Exposed at the Office - Sex Stories

Exposed at the Office

... my panties on display. My breasts, pushed up in my new bra, looking like they're about to burst out; my arms spread wide like I'm doing some kind of monkey impression. And my face. Oh God, my eyes wide in shock, my mouth gaping open...I look so ridiculous. If anyone sees this, my life would be over.

I glance around. Still nobody. I click to the next picture. There I am on my knees, head down, begging on the toilet floor. And the next is worse: she has caught me with my face up, pleading, eyes wide, beseeching. The camera can see right down my top, to my breasts and my bra, as the low-cut blouse gapes open. My knees are spread. I look like a submissive slut about to open her mouth to a dominant man in some kind of porno fantasy. What to do?

I hear a footstep, and someone clearing their throat. I rush to minimise the window in a panic. Looking up, I see my supervisor, Jane, standing at my desk. She's in her forties, well-dressed (of course) and supremely in command of everything she does. I search her eyes, wondering if she's in Sophie's WhatsApp group, or if she saw my screen as she approached. What must she think of me? The moment stretches out. A couple of seconds feel like hours. She looks me up and down. Am I going to be fired?

"You look great. Is that new?" she says. I sigh and nod in relief. I seem to have lost the power of speech. "Good. The clients will be here soon. These were missed from the folders. Get them copied and in the back of each folder, and check ...

... the room is set up right. Mr Daniels will be in to check. Be quick." She hands me a set of papers before turning on her heel and walking away.

*****

I rush to the copier, one hand unnecessarily on the front of my skirt to keep it from flaring up. There's no chance that it would, but my panty-less state has made me paranoid. I keep my head down, desperate to avoid attention. What a contrast with how I expected today to go! I was looking forward to soaking up admiring glances, taking compliments, and making an impression. Now, thinking about those pictures in the email at my work station, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

At the copier, I have to wait for one of the paralegals to finish their print run. The documents spool through the machine as I stand, clutching my papers to my chest, willing it to speed up. But of course it doesn't. The door to Conference Room 1 is still open, the room still empty, but these documents have to be in the files before the clients arrive. Come on! It's like a whole ream of paper is coming out of this machine!

Finally, the paralegal has finished. She doesn't even acknowledge my presence as she collects her copying and heads back to her department. Biting back the insult that's bubbling in my head, I load Jane's documents carefully into the feeder at the top of the copier, select the paper tray and key in twelve copies, just to be safe, before jamming my finger down on the green "copy" button. The machine whirs into ...