Wednesday, 13 April 2011

Dressed for punishment!

Inspired by seeing a girls unusual choice of office wear on my way to work last summer.

Amy woke up again, and looked at her bedside clock, 5.59, she moaned, and leant over to flick the alarm switch onto disarm. The night had been a fitful sleep, the heat in her flat making sleep hard, even naked she couldn't settle. It was one of those nights too cold to sleep on top of the bedclothes, and too hot beneath them. Then of course there was the other thing, the other thing that had been playing on her mind since yesterday lunchtime, she swallowed hard, her eyes closed, as she thought of was about to happen today. It was no good worrying about what was to come, she just had to get up, and get on with it. Whatever the day was to bring was all of her own making. After a very quick shower, she found herself with time on her hands. It was way too early to make her way into Newcastle. The idea of missing the rush hour appealed, but what would be the point, the office wouldn't be open, so anything she saved herself by travelling on an empty Metro would be wasted by having to stand in the square waiting for the office block opening.

Getting a taxi crossed her mind, but that would be more expense, and depending on today's outcome, an expense she could ill afford. Breakfast she thought, but her stomach was turning, and she dare not risk it. She could always look on that website again, but that would be like self torture now, now that a mild fantasy was about to become a stark reality.

A coffee, and a ciggy, she could stomach that. Just.

After putting it off for an hour, she opened her parcel that her boss had given her, and read the note.

Dear Amy.

Please find enclosed your clothing for today. This is to find out if you can actually follow any instructions given to you. If you choose not to wear these garments, I will take it that you are handing in your notice, and any monies owed will be forwarded to you. Remember this is all your idea, so don't complain about today's outcome.

You will notice there is no underwear in this package,t hat is because you are not to wear any today. (I will be able to tell) I have enclosed a brolly should there be rain, no coat to be worn, only wear the clothes enclosed, and whatever shoes you think best suite for today, I would recommend trainers.

Amy looked inside the package, and sighed. Black leggings, and a thin white cotton t-shirt, bearing the legend "Little Miss Naughty". What could she do but put them on. The t-shirt was too tight, it fitted, but left too little to the imagination, and only just covered her navel, but what could she do? The leggings seemed very thin, almost like dancers footless tights, but what could she do? Looking at the bathroom mirror she felt silly, dressed for aerobics, not for work, but again what could she do? Leaving the brolly, as the day was set for another sunny one, she picked up her handbag, and left her flat. Entering the lift, she looked at herself in the full mirror that took up all of the back wall on the small lift. She looked at herself, and bit back the tears. The extra harsh lighting inside the elevator made her see now how she really looked. The leggings under this light were transparent, her charms open to see to whoever chose to look. Staring at herself in the mirror, she reflected on the events that brought her here. There was really no doubt they were all of her own making.

On Monday morning, at work at Mowbray Advertising, she was running off some work on the printer when it stopped working. The printer was in the IT office, the door clearly marked, No Food Or Drink Allowed In This Office, she ignored the sign, after all she would only be in for a couple of minutes max. Placing her can of coke on the new server, she tried to see what the problem was with the printer. Everything seemed OK, perhaps there was a lead loose. Going down on her hands and knees she checked that all the leads were plugged in correctly. Then it happened. A large spider ran across her hand, she jumped up in horror and stepped back quickly, her elbow catching her can, sending the black sugar laden liquid into the server. She stood dumbfounded, the server had only been put in last week, and she watched as the flashing lights seemed to die in front of her eyes. "Shit!" She cried out. Not knowing what to do, she made her way to Tom Mowbray's office, the main partner in the brother and sister business. Knocking on the door and entering Amy stumbled out the explanation of what had happened to her forty six year old boss. Tom sat behind his desk and shook his head, then raised both hands to his head to massage his balding temples.

Finally he spoke. "I'm sorry, Amy, I'm going to have to ring Joan and tell her what has happened. She is going to want your head for this, she is always telling you all about the IT office. She will want you sacked, even if it's just to make an example of you. Not to mention the cost of having the server repaired, and then the data being put back into it. Again."

Amy knew that Tom was right, Tom's sister Joan may be the junior partner, but she was a right tartar, and a stickler for rules, unlike her easygoing elder brother. Then it came to Amy, a flash of desperation, a straw to clutch at. "Mr Mowbray," she said meekly. "could you not punish me yourself, in some other way?"

The two of them looked at each other, eye to eye, each waiting for the other to blink. The idea though, was not as mad as it would seem, two months earlier Sue, one of the other girls at the office announced- "Tom's kinky!" to everyone in the outside ciggy shelter. Apparently Sue had been using Tom's PC, and he had either forgot, or couldn't be bothered, to clear his browsing history. "He keeps going on a site called Spankingtube, in work time as well!" Sue said beaming. "I don't know what it is, but it has to be a bit kinky with a name like that."

Everyone started laughing, everyone that is except Amy. Amy could feel her face start to redden, Sue had unwittingly hit a nerve with Amy. Since her early teens, Amy had been fascinated, and turned on by the idea of spankings, and now it looks like her boss has similar tastes. Or of course Sue could just be making it up? That night when Amy got back to her flat, she rushed straight on to her laptop, to see if this site even existed. Indeed it did, her eyes were opened that night. So many of her dark fantasies being lived out in front of her eyes. Most were short clips, a minute or less, some though were real cohesive mini stories running into ten minutes to quarter of an hour. She was hooked, no more soaps for her now, her early evenings were now spent watching naughty girls getting there bottoms warmed.

It is one thing though to have a fantasy, quite another to live it out for real. Finally she blinked and looked away from Tom, her eyes falling to the floor. She sniffed back a tear, it had been worth a try, then Tom spoke again.

"Amy, have you told anyone about your little mishap with the pop?"

Amy shook her head, a lone tear tracking down her left cheek.

"Well don't then, I'll try to work something out. I have to warn you though, you are looking at a severe chastisement."

The elevator door opened, snapping her back to the present, as she walked along the corridor she dreaded the coming journey. "Severe chastisement?" She thought to herself, she had seen plenty of them, if only on the screen of her laptop. "Laptop?" Is that how he was going to spank her? Bent across his lap like a naughty girl, like the naughty girl that her t-shirt proclaimed her to be? She could feel her face burning up again at the thought of it. Then she felt her stomach start to churn, as she walked out onto the street. What if he decided not to spank her over his knee? What if he just cleared his desk, and made her lie back on it, and spanked her in what the Americans called the diaper position? In these tights her sex would be clearly visible, in the right light even her pubic thatch could be made out. She stifled back a sob at the thought of it. Perhaps he wouldn't spank over her tights!

Maybe he would reach under her bottom, and ask her to lift up her hips, so he could slowly peel down her tights. Then she would be really on display, nothing hidden in that position, he would be staring straight down at her open sex. Looking at her traitorous pussy, damp and glistening, giving away her true feelings. She felt a wave of nausea cross her, but also she could feel the rough cotton rubbing against her erect nipples. She tried to walk quicker, to shorten her time in the bright sunlight, hoping for the sanctuary of the dark underground station. The faster she walked though, the more her nipples rubbed. The more her nipples rubbed, the more she was aware of their erect firmness, and the more aware she was, the firmer they became. It was a self-perpetuating vicious circle. Finally, she made it into the station, and down the steps. She took up at the end of the platform, and waited, praying that the train would not be full. Her prayers weren't answered, the train pulled in, and was standing room only. She got on, making sure she was last on, so that she could stand by the door for the short one stop journey. Now she had the dilemma of how to stand, or rather what to show to her fellow commuters. It was a simple choice, face the door and flash her arse, back to the door and flash a camel toe, and also her now hat peg nipples. She chose to let her fellow passengers see the delightful roundness of her bottom.

Then the train burst out of the darkness to cross the river Tyne, the bright morning sunlight flooded the carriage from the eastern side, making it clear to anyone who chose to look that she was indeed pantyless under those sheer tights. No sooner had the train been in the sun, than it returned to another underground burrow. To Amy though, that half minute had been age. An age of utter embarrassment. The train pulled into the station underneath Central Station, and she leapt from the carriage as quick as she could. Then hung back, letting the bulk of the commuters go on ahead, knowing only too well what awaited her around the corner. She swallowed hard, the escalator had never before looked that long, that steep, or that well lit.

As Amy contemplated the escalator, Tom Mowbray looked out of his office window sipping his coffee as he watched the activity in the small square below. He knew of course that Amy wouldn't come in to work today. If it had been one of the other girls, Sue perhaps, they may have brassed it out and come in. Not Amy though, the shy little brunette would be in tears at just having to walk through the city centre in the clothes that he had given her. Still it had been a bit of a lark, with Joan on holiday he could get away with his little joke, never having any real intention of sacking the silly girl. The server hadn't been badly damaged anyway, only the on/off switch burnt out, all the data was still there. Still though it didn't stop Tom putting a load of stuff onto an external hard drive, and then deleting it off the server. Just on the off chance of Amy actually coming in to the office, it would be like lines at school, a purely pointless exercise, he reasoned with himself. Also having the offices to themselves was no problem, as he and Joan had decided weeks earlier to have the office closed today so the the staff could watch England play in the world cup. Of course England getting knocked out by Germany put a bit of a damper on that idea, but Tom decided to declare it a holiday anyway to thank all of the staff for being so hard working through the computer change over. Also, just in case, he had put one of his Newcastle United slippers in his briefcase, because you never really know for sure. He had toyed with the idea of sending her over the road to one of the two sex shops to buy a paddle, or even sending her along Railway Street. The idea of her bobbing in and out of the timber merchants along there in search of a cane, dressed in those clothes amused him greatly. Of course though it was all just fantasy, "Ah she'll never turn up!" he said to himself, just before he saw the small figure in the black sheen tights, walk through the tunnel into the square.

For Amy the short walk from the Central Station had been a nightmare, once she had got out of the station, she found an area darkened by the shadows of the Victorian arches. She managed another quick ciggy there, the idea of trying to go to Starbucks, as was her norm in the morning, made her feel physically sick. The idea of having to walk past all the usual suspects who would no doubt be sitting outside, she just couldn't stomach, even though she didn't know any of them, they were all used to seeing her, but never dressed like this.

Of course though at some point she would have to leave the shadowy comfort of the station, and face the effects of the bright sunlight upon her leggings. She had decided that to walk as quickly as possible, would be the way to get the embarrassing trip over with the soonest. So off she strode, up towards the suntrap of Times Square. Just before she reached the square, she caught a glance of two girls and a guy that she half recognised as working in the same office block as herself, crossing the road to her right. If the effect that her mode of dress, and the glances it was acquiring was not bad enough, what she heard next brought dampness to her eyes. "Hey look!" Amy heard one female voice from behind her say. "Oh my god! It's enough to put me off my sausage bun!" Another female voice said. "What must she think she looks like, and it looks like she's commando!". Amy forced herself to walk faster, to get out of earshot dreading overhearing any comments from the male of the trio. Finally she reached the refuge of the tunnel leading to her workplace, now it was just a quick fifty yards or so to the office entrance. Fifty yards till she would have to face the nameless old security guards leering stare, he was bad enough on a normal morning, but dressed like this! Amy's supposition was not unfounded, as she walked through the glass doors to the shared foyer the guards eyes seemed to be out on on stalks as he watched her walk in, and then followed her as she made her way up the stairs to the first floor. Half of Amy hated his lecherous looks, but to her surprise another part of her loved the extra attention that her new office wear was garnering her. Upon reaching the seemingly empty offices of Mowbray Advertising, Amy knew that at least one office would not be empty, that of Tom Mowbray's. Heart in her mouth Amy knocked upon his door. Equally as nervous though trying to hide it, Tom said overly loudly. "Come in!"

Meekly, Amy entered the lions den.

"Thank you for coming in on such a glorious day, Amy." Tom said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "It would seem that I guessed your size perfectly, but we really should have a little uniform inspection. Don't you think?"

Amy stood in silence, though in her heart she knew only too well what instruction was coming next.

"Hands on top of your head please, Amy."

Dreamily, with shaking hands, she complied with his instruction, knitting her fingers together on top of her head, and standing up straight and proud waiting for his uniform inspection.

Tom Came out from behind his desk and approached Amy. "I will have to have a word with old George downstairs, and ask him to turn down the air conditioning, you seem to be a little cold," Tom said as his finger trailed over Amy's hard erect left nipple.

Amy felt her face burning up at both his observation, and his delicate touch.

"I'm very pleased to see that you followed my no underwear instruction, these leggings leave so little to the imagination, don't you find?"

Again Tom's question was met by silence, Amy merely swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

Walking behind Amy, Tom could feel his heart drumming in his chest as he looked at her sheen covered, rounded buttocks, he couldn't not give them a little pat to test out the feminine softness of those beautiful orbs. They were so soft, but with a toned firmness giving a clear delineation between the buttocks and the tops of her thighs. "Beautiful," he whispered to himself, but loud enough to catch Amy's ears. "Amy at some point today, it maybe this afternoon," Tom said regaining his composure, "or it may be this morning, I will call you in here for your well earned punishment."

Amy nodded, again gulping in fear or perhaps anticipation.

"Until then, I would like you to input the files that your little accident caused us to lose, I'll call you later." Tom then gave Amy's bottom the lightest of slaps to send her upon her way.

Amy sat, keying in on her computer, waiting for Tom's call. Waiting for Tom's punishing hand. Waiting there in her office dressed for punishment.

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