Exposed at the Office - Sex Stories

Exposed at the Office

... think about going forwards, into the middle of the tables...then maybe I could climb back over? Or crawl under? But Sophie's hand is pinning me, not letting me move forward...in fact, it's inching upwards, beyond my stocking top, up my thigh...oh fuck! Is she going to touch me...there? She inches her hand further, right to the top of my thigh, her fingers giving a little squeeze.

In a panic, I fling myself backwards, dislodging Sophie's hand. My skirt flips up and, for a moment, my whole ass and pussy is on display. I actually squeal, clapping one hand over my mouth as the other, still clutching the papers from the floor, pushes my skirt down. Sophie snatches the papers from my hand and sorts them expertly, filing them away neatly in the folders and straightening everything up as though nothing has happened. I am burning with shame, my knees actually trembling, my upper thigh burning where I can still feel the print of Sophie's hand.

Mr Daniels is staring at me, looking appalled. I am mortified. What did he see? Did he see...everything? I don't get a chance to work it out, as he glances out of the door.

"They're here," he says, almost to himself. Smoothing down his impeccably tailored suit, he steps out of the conference room to welcome the clients, his confident tone greeted warmly by the unseen men and women outside as handshakes are exchanged. Sophie turns to me.

"You should be more careful," she says, her eyebrow arched, "flashing yourself around like ...

... that. Mr Daniels will think you're trying to seduce him." She chuckles, reaching for my blouse. The missing button - the top one - has left it gaping open, revealing my bra. "Maybe you are?"

I feel the blush rising up my face again, clutching my blouse together and stuttering a denial which, even to me, sounded more like an admission. "P-please, Sophie, please let me have my panties back," I whisper.

"I don't have them," she says. "I've put them somewhere special, with a little note for whoever finds them. If you want them back, you'll have to earn them."

For about the fiftieth time that day, I am lost for words. "H-how..."

"Check your email...slut," Sophie hisses, before turning to greet the clients, who are at the door.

The next few minutes pass in a blur as I help Sophie get the clients settled with Mr Daniels, the head of corporate finance and the marketing lead for our company. My mind is doing flips as it races between my gaping blouse, the fact that my pussy and ass are naked under my skirt, and trying to work out what Sophie had done with my underwear. I have no idea what I'm saying or doing, only that my short-lived career could be over unless I find a way of appeasing my tormentor.

*****

I sit at my desk and type my password, dreading what awaits me in my inbox. There it is, right at the top. An email from Sophie. Subject line: "Slut." I look around, anxiously, checking that nobody can see my screen, before opening the email.

There is a short ...