Boss Pressures Employee to Wear Miniskirt and Makeup, Her Response Shuts Him Down – Story of the Day

Debbie is shocked when her new boss, Baxter, orders her to start wearing a mini skirt to work. Determined to ensure her future at the company, Debbie sets out to gather evidence against Baxter and bring him down.

The hum of the office fluorescent lights buzzed like angry hornets as Debbie wrestled with the temperamental copy machine. She jammed another stack of invoices into the tray, wincing at the paper jam warning.

"Well, what have we here, a new girl?"

Debbie spun around and came face to face with the head of her department, Mr. Baxter. She smiled as she introduced herself, but a chill passed down her spine when he ignored her outstretched hand and leered at her.

"You need a makeover if you want to keep working here. You're dressed like an old lady."

"Excuse me?" Debbie asked.

"This isn't some charity bazaar. In this office, we like our women to look polished."

He flicked a wad of cash onto the copier, the bills fluttering like nervous butterflies. "Go get yourself some proper office attire, new girl. Think mini skirt, a low-cut top, some make-up. Something that's a bit more... appealing. I don't want to see you roaming around here looking like my Grandma."

"I'm here to do a job, Mr. Baxter." She held out the crumpled bills in her fist.

Baxter frowned and leaned in close. "Are you telling me you don't care about this company's image? Is that how you plan to succeed here, by being sassy to your boss?"

"No, sir, but…"

Baxter's eyes narrowed. "If you aren't willing to adhere to my rules, then you don't belong here. You'll never get anywhere if you don't take advantage of your…feminine assets."

"I'll tell you what, new girl. Sort out your look, show me that you want to be here, and I'll personally mentor you. And if you aren't willing to adapt, I'll expect to see your resignation letter on my desk."

Baxter patted her shoulder and left Debbie wondering what she'd gotten herself into. She was here to work and to be respected for her abilities, not her appearance.

In the past, she'd always refused to play dress-up to satisfy some jerk boss's urges to eyeball her, but resigning wasn't an option this time. Debbie returned to her task, her mind already planning the next steps.

The boardroom was stark and unadorned, save for the large, polished table at its center and the high-backed chairs surrounding it. Baxter and the other department heads were gathered, their expressions a mix of focus and fatigue.

Mr. Booth, the senior manager, stood at the head of the table, clearing his throat to capture their attention. "Everyone, I have some important news. The new CEO of our company is coming to our office in a week and a half for a personal review."

Baxter's jaw clenched. His carefully constructed facade, the veneer of his department's success, seemed to crack under the weight of the coming visit.

"Additionally," Mr. Booth reached into his briefcase, "We have been asked to participate in a little test. Each department will submit a creative solution to a hypothetical problem. Baxter, as head of the largest department, you'll have the honor of selecting the best presentations to showcase to the CEO."

Feeling the weight of his new responsibility, Baxter straightened his tie and spoke up. "I expect nothing but the best from all of you."

As the meeting concluded, Baxter lingered, his mind racing with possibilities. For him, this was an opportunity to prove his dominance and gain the new CEO's favor, and he wasn't going to let anything get in his way.

Baxter's office felt more like a predator's lair than a workspace. Debbie swallowed, her heart drumming a frantic tattoo against her ribs as she stepped inside.

"Mr. Baxter," she started, her voice tinny in the oppressive silence. "I…"

Engrossed in his computer, Baxter swiveled around in his chair to face her.

Debbie fought the temptation to tug at the hem of her short skirt. She'd quickly rushed out after making copies and bought a mini skirt from the first clothing store she found. Working in such a short, tight-fitting skirt was uncomfortable enough.

"I see you're making progress, Debbie, but there's still some way to go." He smiled. "What do you want?"

"I came here to ask about the test, the one for the CEO visit. I never got the email everyone else did."

"Maybe it got lost in the digital wilderness. Or perhaps," he leaned forward, his eyes glinting like broken glass, "it simply took a detour to a more… picturesque inbox."

"What are you talking about, sir?" Debbie frowned.

Baxter watched her intensely as he walked around his desk, closing the gap between them. Debbie instinctively took a step back. He leaned in, his presence overbearing. "Listen, you need to start acting professionally and doing as you're told. I won't send you the test task until then."

"I am professional, Mr. Baxter," she replied, her voice shaking. "And I really want to do well here. I'll do anything…"

"If this is really what you want, new girl, then prove it." He dropped into his chair and smirked at her. "Show me what you're willing to do to get ahead, and I'll be happy to help you get there."

During lunchtime, Debbie sat alone at a corner table in the office cafeteria, her mind still replaying the earlier encounter in Baxter's office. A female colleague approached her table, a tray in hand.

"Hi, I'm Gloria. Mind if I join you?" Gloria asked, her voice friendly.

Debbie looked up, a hint of relief in her eyes at the prospect of company. "Of course, please do."

"Did you get the email about the test task for the CEO's visit?" Debbie inquired, trying to steer the conversation toward work.

Gloria nodded, her expression turning slightly serious. "Yes, I did. Quite a challenge, isn't it?"

Debbie hesitated before asking, "Would you mind forwarding it to me? I didn't receive it."

Gloria's brows furrowed slightly, a hint of reluctance in her posture. "I'm not sure if that's okay, which is part of the reason I wanted to sit with you, but it also means it would be professional suicide if I helped you."

"But I need to participate in this task. It's important," said Debbie in a convincing tone.

She noticed Gloria's unease at the mention of Baxter's name. "He's been bugging you, too?"

Gloria sighed. "I hate working for him. And to be honest, I'm not sure how to tackle the task," she confessed. "I work in translations. I'm only in this department because Baxter arranged my transfer."

"But why?"

Gloria sighed. "I tried to fight the transfer, but the paperwork conveniently got lost."

Debbie's eyes widened in shock and anger. "Gloria, you shouldn't have to tolerate this sort of behavior. We need to do something about it."

Gloria shook her head, a trace of fear in her eyes. "I can't risk being fired, Debbie. Standing up to someone like Baxter... it's not that simple. Anyway, I'll share the assignment with you."

"Thank you, Gloria," Debbie replied with a smile.

The next day, Debbie entered Baxter's office with a determined stride, clutching a folder tightly against her chest. "I've completed the test assignment, Mr. Baxter," she announced.

Sitting behind his desk, Baxter looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to annoyance. "Where did you get that? I didn't send it to you."

"I asked Gloria," Debbie replied, maintaining her composure. "I deserve to have an opportunity to showcase my work, just like everybody else."

"Showcase your work? To whom? I'm in charge of going over the test tasks, and I can guarantee that no one will read your scribblings. Go, shred it."

"In that case, I think Mr. Booth would be interested in seeing my work," Debbie responded with icy politeness.

The mention of Mr. Booth, the CEO's right-hand man, had Baxter visibly bristling.

He stood up and began to approach her, his movements slow and deliberate. "Oh, really? Do you think he'll be interested in your project?"

"We'll see," said Debbie, her voice surprisingly steady.

"There's something about, new girl. Like maybe, if you let down your hair a little bit..." Baxter's voice broke off as he motioned his hand to remove Debbie's hair clip.

"If you touch me, I'll scream," she said, her voice shaking but fierce.

Baxter laughed, the sound cold and unsettling. "Oh, I have every intention of making you scream, Debbie, the good kind of screaming. Let's see how loud..."

Before he could finish, Debbie's scream caught him off guard. With both his hands covering his ears and a visible nervousness in his eyes, he gestured for Debbie to put the file on his table and leave his office immediately.

When Debbie entered Baxter's office the next day, she noticed Gloria standing opposite Baxter's desk.

"I've looked at your task, Debbie," Baxter began, his voice smooth, almost rehearsed. "You've done an excellent job. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Mr. Baxter," she replied.

Baxter leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between Debbie and Gloria. "However, Gloria will be the one presenting your work under her own name."

The room seemed to spin as Debbie processed his words. "I don't understand. Why can't I present my own work?"

Baxter's lips curled into a condescending smile. "Let's be honest, Debbie. You're not exactly... presentable enough. We need to make a good impression."

Debbie's heart pounded in her chest, anger and disbelief coursing through her. "That's not fair. I did that work."

Unfazed, Baxter continued, "As compensation, I'll take you out for lunch. I'm sure you've never been out to a nice restaurant with a man before, so it will be a good experience."

Debbie's face flushed with indignation, her hands balling into fists.

Baxter shrugged dismissively. "If you don't like it, you're free to leave."

Fueled by a surge of defiance, Debbie spun around and stormed out of the office.

Gloria hurried after her, catching up in the hallway. "Debbie, wait! Please, hear me out. I know it's unfair, but I'll tell the CEO that I'm presenting your project."

"You'll do that?" asked Debbie, clearly surprised by Gloria's words. "What if Baxter fires you?"

"I don't care. I'm tired of Baxter's behavior." Gloria reached out, her touch gentle on Debbie's arm. "If I get this opportunity, I can expose Baxter for who he is."

**

Finally, the fateful day arrived. Baxter entered Mr. Booth's office first, followed by Gloria.

"The CEO will be joining us shortly. Let's get everything ready for the presentation," said Mr. Booth, his voice calm and authoritative.

As they prepared, the door opened again, and to everyone's surprise, Debbie walked in. Her demeanor was different–confident, commanding, a far cry from the employee they knew.

Baxter's face drained of color, his shock evident. "You? You're the CEO?"

Debbie had been waiting for this moment ever since he told her to take advantage of her feminine assets. "Yes, Baxter. I am."

Baxter, now visibly shaken, tried to regain his composure. "I had no idea."

Debbie held up a hand, silencing him. "That was the whole point. The test task was just a smokescreen to allow me to see exactly what sort of personal dynamics are in effect here, Baxter. Your behavior towards your colleagues, particularly towards women, is unacceptable."

Baxter opened his mouth to protest, but Debbie continued. "This company values dignity and respect in the workplace. Your actions have been a violation of these principles."

Baxter's confidence had crumbled. He looked from Debbie to Mr. Booth, a desperate plea in his eyes.

Debbie, however, remained unswayed. "Baxter, you are fired for your misconduct. I have also called the police, and they're waiting outside to arrest you."

"Arrest me?" Baxter leaped from his seat. "For what?"

"Sexual harassment is a crime, Baxter," Debbie replied.

The words were a final blow to Baxter, who stood frozen, the realization of his downfall dawning on him. He glanced around the room, his exit inevitable, and left without a word.

Debbie turned to Gloria, her expression softening. "I'm sorry for the pretense, Gloria. If it hadn't been necessary to gather evidence against Baxter…"

"You don't need to apologize," Gloria responded. "You are officially my hero, Debbie!"

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