This is really only a fragmentary episode, but an email asked if there was any more from this series — so here it is. Rather OTT.
The skirts they buy are very short indeed, but absolutely gorgeous; flippy pleated ones, a tight, severe grey one with a flirty kick pleat and a slit in the side that would show a thong strap — or not. Outrageously high mules with a light platform. Many pairs of slinky thigh-high stockings with pretty lace details. A whole collection of sexy designer thong panties. The partners had suggested that Chloe be provided with a series of tight bustier/corsets, over which only pale crop blouses are to be worn — with one or two buttons only, or a tie front. The look is simultaneously very smart, with the tightly controlled waistline, and very sexy, even with the most businesslike of the blouses. Some are not businesslike at all — in fact rather filmy — and some of the bustiers are only half-cup, or less.
At one point Chloe realises they have spent nearly £5,000. She is a little weak, but exhilarated as well.
“Can — can I really wear all these lovely things?” she marvels
N laughs; “Of course, dear — whatever else will we do with them — as long as you can keep your job, of course — they remain ADD’s property for the probationary period. You’re doing well in those heels, but I’ll book you in to some deportment classes — they’ll be in the evening, I’m afraid, along with some other courses we require you to take — will that be a problem?”
“Um .. No! No Madam”
“Do you feel sexy?”
Bluhsing, voice low, but smiling, Chloe says;
“Yes, Madam. Thank you”
“Wait ‘til we get back to the office, then you can show yourself off to the partners. Which of those thongs is going to make it impossible for them to resist you?”
And they choose one which is basically a small black satin patch, held in place by a fan of spaghetti straps secured by a silly red ribbon tied in a bow. Chloe feels her chest heave — she has a mild panic for a moment — this can’t be her. But she calms herself: she’s been over this in her head, in different ways, many times over the past few days, and each time the outcome is the same: something in her wants to experience this — wants to stay with it, finds it seductively fascinating.
In the taxi, on the way back, she says what she has been thinking;
“Please, Madam — may .. may I speak?”
She is blushing — it is surprisingly humiliating to have to ask whenever she needs to say something. She finds herself much less talkative than normal, already.
“Yes, dear, if you’ll remember to sit with your thighs parted while on work time”
Chloe is on the jump seat, facing N, and in the tiny skirt, just a small movement of her thighs affords N a clear view of the sexy thong and her whole crotch. She is surprised to find herself wanting N to enjoy the view, and her thighs part a little further; N smiles a small, tight smile of approval, and Chloe blushes, but she is happy as well as ashamed.
“Um .. well — I .. I’d like to do . um everything I can to .. to see if I can be kept on — after the two weeks. To please them. And .. and you, too.”
She is blushing deeply now — not knowing quite what the implications of what she is saying are, but aware that she is making it clear that she is happy to be taken further advantage of.
“I’m glad to hear it, pretty.”
“And .. and so I’d like .. like to ask you, please, to .. to be very .. clear with me — I mean — tell me if I should be doing better — not let me .. get away with anything. Do .. does that make sense?”
Her voice is soft, and she is blushing, but she looks directly at N, sincerity in her eyes.
N smiles a little;
“You are asking me to be very strict with you, very controlling — to demand from you that you be exactly the girl the partners want — is that right?”
Chloe nods; her throat is tight.
“Even if that means pushing you .. beyond your comfort zone?”
Chloe’s heart thumps, she can hardly look at N; her cheeks are burning, but she is conscious of deep gratitude, and it is clear in her voice;
“P ..please, I .. I will be so .. so grateful, M .. Madam.”
“I understand you perfectly, my dear. You are asking me to keep you right up to the mark — to demand that you be as near perfect as possible. Well, my dear, I can of course help, but in fact, it has to come from inside you. You have to want to please. And you have to do what seems best to you. But if I am to help you, then something has to be clear.”
Chloe’s heart thumps louder — she wants to know, but she dreads something that will push her too far, that she won’t be able easily to accept.
“P .. Please, Madam .. ?”
“It’s simple. You need to tell the partners what you’ve told me — that you want to be the best for them, and ask them if they will put you onto a strict disciplinary regime — the harshest they are prepared to impose. That will mean corporal punishment for all misdemeanours.”
A pause, then;
“You .. you mean s .. spanking, Madam?”
“Exactly so. Yes, you’ll be spanked, hard, for even minor slip-ups — that will help you keep you up to the mark, you’ll find. There’s a riding crop, too, for more serious transgressions.”
Chloe blenches. She looks down, trembling, unable to speak. The image of herself, bent over a desk, skirt up, panties down, waiting for a spanking, is strong in her mind. She bites her lip.
N’s finger under her chin lifts her head;
“Well, pretty?”
“I .. I .. can .. can I think about it, Madam. Please?”
Then, noticing a lifted eyebrow, Chloe finds it necessary to say more;
“I .. I mean I’m very .. very grateful for the advice, and .. and I’ll almost certainly want .. want to take it, but .. but it .. it’s ..”
and her voice gets very small — almost a whisper;
” .. a little .. more .. more than ..”
She tails off, blushing furiously.
N waits a little, keeping Chloe guessing, before smiling a hard smile, without a trace of sympathy;
“Very good. Only — don’t leave it too long, now. I mean, now that you know what the partners want, and given what you say about wanting to do whatever you can to be kept on, it wouldn’t seem to make any sense at all for you to need to think about it much, would it? But of course, dear, you’ll do what is best for you. Won’t you? To get what you really want?”
And then they are back at the office, and, after a little while kneeling at her empty desk, N signals her to follow her into A’s room, where Chloe shyly but prettily lifts her new skirt, to show the tiny thong, and waits while he grins at her, looking her over in the most obvious manner, while discussing with N the shape of her thighs, the rise of her breasts imposed by the bustier’s cantilever, the way her bum juts now she is wearing higher heels.
Somehow, Chloe finds herself intensely grateful for this attention, however demeaning.
They ask her to make tea. Returning, she faces the dilemma of curtsying while carrying a tray. Terrified of doing something wrong, she balances the tray one one hand, and lifts her skirt hem with the other. The move is clumsy but meets with approval, as it advertises clearly how eager the girl is to please. Later, N explains to her that she should in future settle the tray and then curtsey, to avoid accidents.
Once the tea is poured, A says to her;
“Pussy!” and Chloe, standing right next to him, blushing, lifts her skirt hem again, wiggling seductively, at which point he casually reaches out and begins to finger her in a directly sexual way. Chloe has to suppress a little shriek of shock, has to fight her instinctive reactions, has to swallow her shame at allowing this. But at the same time, there is a pride, a pleasure in feeling sexy, attractive, to such a man.
He and N discuss the issue with the escort — it seems to be quite a problem. The client is important, and has enjoyed dinner with the escort before, was planning to take her to a show this time, will be irritated at being let down.
She loses focus after a minute or so, as N clearly knows his way around a pussy, and Chloe is aware that she is getting rather damp, that her hips are rolling a little, that her breath is coming rather deeply. She has to make an effort to reply calmly to N, who is finished with A, and asks Chloe to report to her when A releases her.
And then she is alone, skirt up around her waist, being fingered by her new boss, biting her lip to keep from sighing, as pleasure mounts, surprising her with its intensity. She is shocked and deeply embarrassed when he abruptly stops, laughing at her, smacks her playfully on her buttock, and says;
“Off you go now, pretty, I’ve work to do!”
And she almost runs from the room, wiggling on the high heels, and almost forgets to curtsey to N, only reminded when that lady’s eyebrow raises slightly as she looks up.
This time, Chloe finds she really, really doesn’t want to curtsey. It is all too demeaning! It might be a plum place to work, but this continual emphasis on her poor pussy — on showing it, dressing so that she is vulnerable, inviting attention there, of having it seem perfectly normal that her boss will put his fingers well-nigh into her — they are turning her into some sort of office whore! She tells herself she is going to leave — immediately! — then looks up and is captured by N’s gaze, and her willpower crumbles; she blushes again, and, over-compensating, does a very sultry curtsy indeed, feeling a rush of pleasure as she feels that she has done it well.
Such a mix of fear, sneaking pleasure and shame, coupled with her intense feeling of need for the feeling of wealth and power she gets from being a part of this place makes her smile for N raw, desperate, revealing her intense psychological vulnerability, her eagerness to please, her shame. N is quietly pleased with herself for choosing this girl from the hundreds they had looked at.
She feels some praise is in order — generally, all praise will be tempered with criticism, so that the girl is never entirely confident she has given satisfaction;
“You did well in there, girly — well enough, anyway.”
The next couple of hours went calmly, Chloe sitting — kneeling — at her desk, doing some simple filing. Thinking. She began to feel very pleased with herself — every time she looked down she saw herself wearing the pretty, expensive clothes. And she begins to realise that she if she stays, she is going to become some sort of a slut, is going to be used as a sex object — explicitly — no slinking off to the stationery cupboard — they will just push her over a table and fuck her — D1 was utterly relaxed about fingering her pussy in front of Norah.
And the strange thing is, she welcomes it. All of it. She doesn’t understand, but she accepts. And when she thinks that it is all likely to end in two weeks, she is panicky. She remembers the conversation in the cab, and wonders whether she can really offer herself up for being spanked. She is trembling, but she is also strangely calm.
And then, suddenly, the day is over — an incredible roller-coaster of a day for Chloe, a totally ordinary one for ADD; a quietly satisfying advance on one minor staffing issue almost un-noticed.
Being alone in her flat that evening is very trying for Chloe. Somehow everything normal seems flat after the intensity of her day. She is aware that she has been very foolish; allowed huge liberties to be taken; things that should never happen. She briefly wonders what they would pay her to keep quiet if she threatened to complain — but instantly shies away from that thought in fear.
On the other hand, all sorts of things that happened during the day make her glow with pride, with happiness — and yes, honestly, with sexual excitement. Her thoughts go round and round; often coming back to the act of curtsying, to the feeling of having her pussy fingered by her boss in front of, and with the full knowledge of, her co-worker.
And she finds herself practicing her curtsying; trying on various different combinations of the slinky outfits that they had given her to take home. She feels at once embarrassed and proud as she wriggles and bobs in front of her mirror.
THE NEXT DAY
N returns from a short conference with one of the partners, and doesn’t look at Chloe; blushing and feeling ridiculous, she nevertheless lifts her skirt clear of her haunches, and waits a good 20 seconds before lowering it. She takes a deep breath, stands, and approaches N’s desk. Somehow, it seems impossible not to curtsey again, and so she does, holding her skirt hem high, realising how much she likes the sexy black thong she chose this morning.
“Um, Madam? .. May .. may I speak?”
A long silence. Then N looks up, distracted;
“What is it girl?”
“Um . I .. I’ve been thinking about .. what you said in the cab.”
A little more attention in N’s eyes now;
“And?”
“Well .. if — if it’s going to help the partners consider keeping me on, then — ” deep breath; “then I’d like to .. to request the .. the discipline. Madam.”
“Are you sure? There’s no going back once you talk to the partners.”
Chloe feel tingly all over; “I .. I don’t know .. if .. if I can be sure Madam; but .. but I .. I definitely want to. Yes.”
And indeed, Chloe feels better for having said it — whatever comes.
“Very well — we’re due to take tea in to the afternoon meeting in a little while — you can tell them yourself, then. Is that all?”
“Um .. no — no, Madam. There is .. something else. Could .. could I lower my .. my skirt now please? I mean before I explain?”
N smiles; “No, my dear, you may not. You may not even ask such a question. A discipline point, I fear. Remember it, will you? Now, do go on.”
Chloe blushes hotly at this, has to bite her lip for a second to keep herself from being indiscreet, but forces herself to speak as calmly as she can;
“I .. I was thinking about the .. the escort, madam.”
“Yes? and?”
“Well, I .. I know I’ve only just started, but ..”
Chloe is unable to say it, blushes, falters, trembles.
“But what?”
“Would .. could .. I do it?”
Silence.
Chloe cannot bear it; “I .. I mean, I obviously wouldn’t be what .. what …. but I could be .. polite, and .. and smile.” she falters off.
N looks at her, coolly (of course, the whole situation is a set-up) — watching the girl carefully. After a while, she slightly raises an eyebrow a little, an obvious, searching question in her eyes; Chloe blushes, hard. The unspoken question is clear: escorts fuck clients. Is Chloe offering to fuck this stranger?
She isn’t sure herself, but she finds herself lifting her gaze up again, to meet N’s. Yes. Yes, she understands that she will be fucked.
N says, calmly;
“He’s an important client. He must get anything he wants, just the way he wants it.”
Chloe is suddenly really, really hot. She is offering to fuck a stranger for her new bosses — and she is hot for it. How can this be?
“Yes, Madam .. I .. I understand.”
“Can you do it?”
“A blush rises, but Chloe keeps her voice steady; “Yes .. yes, Madam, I .. I will do .. whatever ..”
Twenty minutes later, Chloe follows N into the boardroom, where the partners are already around one end of the table. N continues into the room, while Chloe stops, and once again raises her little skirt high, showing the sexy knickers and wriggling her hips slowly, waiting for a lazy smiling nod from D2 before she lowers the hem again. She is weirdly grateful to them for making her do this — somehow it makes her feel special — how many girls curtsy so explicitly for their bosses? Then she remembers she is about to ask them to subject her to physical punishments, and she shivers.
Before they came in, N had told her; “Chloe, your position at these meetings is kneeling on the low table”, and now she advances toward the small, low table, set in the middle of the horseshoe board table. At least this time she doesn’t have to stand.
However, she finds this position powerfully degrading — she feels very weak and vulnerable like this, below everyone else, thighs splayed — she is sure that A, in front of her, can see right up her skirt — but then, what matters that — he has only to mention the word ‘pussy’, and she will show him anyway; show him as prettily as she knows how.
There is a fair amount of ‘business’, during which she tries to sit as prettily as she can; not to appear to eavesdrop (although she understands almost nothing — she knows she is not here to be useful, but to be an adornment, a toy, and she is slipping into the role with alarming speed).
Then she hears her name — N has told them she has a request. She has to speak. She finds she is terrified; her voice is very small;
“Please .. please, Sirs I .. I’d like to try as hard as I can to .. to please you over the next 2 weeks, so that .. so that you might consider keeping me on longer. And .. and N thought I should ask you if .. if..” — she is almost unable to continue; “if you will be .. very .. demanding.”
Her voice is almost a whisper.
N continues;
“What the pretty is asking, sirs, is for a full punishment regime — to keep her up-to-the-mark — isn’t that right, dear?”
Flushed pink, speechless, Chloe nods. Her chest is heaving. Her breasts move deliciously above the bustier.
“You want us to spank you if you’re not perfect — is that it, pretty?”
Chloe blushes, then some instinct tells her to lift her skirt, to show off her new panties, as she says; “Yes, sir” in a small voice.
N speaks again; “She understands that the riding crop will also be used on her if it seems appropriate.”
A small smile from D2 indicates that he understands that N pushes Chloe on their behalf, and that he is grateful. The riding crop usually comes later; but he trusts N.
“Okay, pretty — we’re pleased that you like it here — pleased that you want to please us — that’s all good. We’re also pleased you want us to spank you and discipline you with the crop — that in itself is a step forward — a good one for you.”
“On the other hand, it means you will have to accept our full rule set. This is exacting and specific, and will extend the terms of your service to us. Unfortunately, the full rule set is not something that we can hand out — you will just have to learn through trial and error. Are you happy to accept this?”
Chloe knows that this is completely unfair — a set of rules that she will only know when she breaks them, and incurs punishment — unspecified ‘terms of service’ — it is a trap. But they make no attempt to disguise it — just expect her to accept it.
And she wants to. She is breathing heavily and slowly, realises she is turned on, that at the end of this meeting she is going to be both spanked and fucked, and that she will go home this evening as some sort of a whore. There is a tear in her eye, but she is also smiling as she says;
“Yes, sir — I am happy to .. to accept this.” Her voice quiet but firm enough, with a cute little tremor that advertises how vulnerable she feels..
“Very well; listen carefully now. Although the rules are not written; they are inflexible, and absolute. No failure is acceptable. On the other hand, no-one can be perfect. So we have a system of encouragement.”
“Simply put, it’s corporal punishment. Whenever you think you’ve broken a rule, you tell one of us, and suggest a number of discipline points; something silly, like spilling a cup of coffee, might be one point. Failing to curtsey might be three. Refusing to curtsey might be twenty.”
Chloe remembers N telling her about a discipline point earlier — she has already earned a spanking.
“At the end of the day, you give Norah your tally, and someone — either one of us, or Norah — punishes you accordingly — usually the next morning. If you transgress, and fail to confess — either through ignorance, or slyness, then we decide the punishment, plus ten for your failure. If you confess, but suggest too low a number of punishment units, then you get double the punishment you should have suggested. Of course, if you suggest a number that is higher, that’s what you’ll get. It all sounds complicated now, but you’ll get the hang of it very quickly, don’t worry.”
“Of course, some infringements will be punished on the spot, by any one of us — you won’t have to remember those ones. I’m going to punish you now — for staring at me. You are generally to keep your eyes lowered in front of your betters. Come, lean over the corner of the desk now.”
She is shocked to discover how much she being spanked excites her — spanked in front of all of them, skirt pulled right up, feeling his hand slap down on her buttocks. It does hurt — of course — but it is also very sexy indeed, and her pussy is wet by the end of the four slaps he gives her.
Walking back to her place, pink cheeked, humiliated, she is confusingly proud at the same time, kneeling as prettily as she can — not daring, now, to look at them, but feeling their eyes on her, knowing that her body is in their imaginations — that she will feel their hands on her, trembling at the implications of being so obviously, so utterly subservient, but somehow, no matter how dangerous she knows it is, feeling like a success.
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