Exposed at the Office - Sex Stories

Exposed at the Office

... to him. He drops his hand to his side, then, with the other, points to the door.

"Get out of my office, and out of my company," he says. "And never come back."

I gulp, gasp for air. There is no protest I can make, no defence I can offer. This is my penalty. I have no choice. I step, stark naked, towards the office door. Mr Daniels doesn't move. I have to walk right by him in the doorway, so close we are almost touching. I can feel the fury radiating from him, his muscles tensed like coiled springs, like a bomb about to explode. I pad past, on my bare feet, silently, delicately, afraid that one wrong move will set him off.

I step out of the open office door. Sophie has gathered everyone together. There are people standing on their chairs, on their desks, to get a look at my humiliating walk of shame. There seem to be hundreds of people, lining the route, like at a parade. And they all have their phones out. There are flashes, clicks, the sound of my lowest moment being captured for amusement and laughter for years to come.

I'm aware of every part of my body as I walk through the throng. I can feel my breasts ...

... undulating as my body rises and falls, my nipples pointing like bullets. I can feel the muscles in my thighs moving my ass cheeks up and down as I walk. I feel the carpet under my bare feet. My skin is covered in goosebumps, icy cold one moment and burning hot the next as the first catcalls start. Whoops, wolf whistles, lewd comments. Once one of them starts, it empowers the next. It catches on like wildfire, until the whole office is full of hooting, howling, hollering abuse. I feel the tears track down my cheeks as I walk. Each step is a searing torture. It seems to take hours. I want to run, but I know I can't. This walk of shame is my penance.

Finally, I reach the outer doors. I feel their eyes boring into my naked back, more cameras shooting the rear view, videos following me out of the door. I feel the carpet change to cold marble, and walk, trance-like, to the revolving street door. I catch my reflection in the glass, stark naked, exposed for everyone to see. People on the street are stopping, turning to stare, their mouths falling open. I push through the revolving door, and out into the street. And I begin to walk.