Dana Plays Paintball in the Office

Start Prologue

Rick stormed into the office and slammed the door.

“I can’t take it anymore, man. That woman is driving me nuts.”

Jim didn’t have to ask what woman. He knew. In fact, he had known the likely problem as soon as he saw the massive figure in a red flannel shirt marching toward his desk.

“Calm down. What is it this time?”

“She thinks she knows everything!”

“Well, in the two months that she’s been here, she’s excelled at every task that I set for her, and her college transcripts bear out the fact that she’s one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met.”

“She overheard me telling some of the guys about how I pulled off a win in a paintball match this weekend and had the gall to step in and start talking about how she would have done it better. Her. Better than me. At paintball.”

The words sputtered at the end, and Rick’s red face made it look like he was about to have an aneurysm.

“You’re one of the best managers that I have. Why does this one girl get to you so badly? You’ve never had this kind of trouble with anyone else, and, though no one seems to actually like Dana, they don’t hate her guts like you do either.”

“You say I’m one of your best managers. You know why? Because I listen to people. If a kid right out of school suggests how to do something, I’ll at least consider it. She, on the other hand, thinks she knows better than anyone and doesn’t listen at all. She needs to be taken down a few pegs.”

Jim knew he needed to calm Rick down.

“Do you think that’s the best way to handle the situation? Wouldn’t it be better to get to know her and, once you truly understand her point of view, offer her friendly suggestions on how to improve her attitude?”

He looked Rick in the eye.

“I remember this young redneck who walked into my office ten years ago who didn’t know squat about how to behave in an office but was full of confidence. I didn’t try take away that confidence; I did my best to help make him worthy of it.”

“You were the best boss, and mentor, that a guy could ask for, but that woman is not me. I at least knew what I didn’t know. She’s so full of herself that she won’t deign to think that there’s even a possibility that someone may have more know better than her. Taking her down a few pegs is the only way.”

“It’s my experience that humbling someone rarely helps the situation. It either sets up a situation where they want revenge or it destroys them.”

“Jim…”

“No, you’re my best manager, and I’m going to let you do what you think best on this one even though I disagree with you. I’m out of the office on Friday. Whatever you’re planning, do it then. I don’t want to know anything about it.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. If this goes badly, if I lose a valued employee over this thing, you’re in serious trouble.”

End Prologue

Start Part 1

Dana’s office wasn’t large. Nor was it elegant. It was hers, though. Her first real office. Her furniture was assembled from boxes, but it was clean and at least appeared to be real wood. The carpet was dreadful, of course; there was no help for that. The paintings that she had provided herself helped make the overall feel of the place acceptable.

She liked this job. Management made her feel important, and, so far, she accomplished every task set before her with aplomb, a veritable rising star. If it weren’t for that insufferable hillbilly, all would be perfect.

She had to admit that he wasn’t bad to look at, though ten years her elder. There was something about him, some rugged manliness, that spoke to her on a primitive level in a way that the boys at Harvard simply hadn’t.

Everything else about the man, though! Not even considering the cultural differences associated with his rural southern upbringing versus her being raised as a northern debutante, he did everything 180 degrees opposite of her. While she went by the book, he was all about experience. Where she instructed her subordinates on proper procedures, he was hands off unless a problem arose.

As she was considering exactly what it was about her rival that irritated her so, the man himself walked into her office.

“It’s time to put your money where your mouth is, little girl.”

“Excuse me?”

“Since you seem to think you’re an expert at paintball, I’ve got a challenge for you. That is, if you really do think you are as good as you say.”

A group at her last company had liked to spend their time playing on weekends. In an effort to be social, she had went a couple of times. Though not the best in the group, she did pretty well despite her limited experience.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’m planning a little office party on Friday afternoon. The loser of the game serves as the winner’s willing servant for the event.”

“What do you mean by ‘willing servant?’”

“I mean that the loser does everything, and I do mean everything, that the winner asks for the duration of the party,” he said.

“And we would conduct this contest one night this week?”

“Nope. During the day on Friday.”

“I’d prefer not to miss work for this,” she said.

“You won’t. The contest will take place here. We have to complete all our normal daily tasks while playing.”

Dana thought about it. It sounded a little messy to her, getting paint on her business clothes and possibly on her walls.

“What if you hit one of my paintings?”

“I don’t miss.”

She frowned at him.

“If I mess up anything besides your clothes, I’ll pay to have it cleaned.”

She still didn’t think it was a good idea, but she hated backing down from a fight.

“What are the rules?”

“I’m going to make it real easy for you. All you have to do is hit me once, anywhere on my body, and you win. You also win if I hit you anywhere but on your clothes, or if I fail to win by the time the party starts.”

“What’s the catch? How do you win?”

“When I hit a piece of your clothing, it becomes mine. I win when you’re naked.”

“No way. Not going to happen. You can forget it.”

“Great. All I need, then, is for you to admit, preferably in writing, that you suck at paintball and were caught bragging.”

“I do not ‘suck’ at paintball and will admit no such thing!”

“You must suck. Otherwise, you’d take a challenge where I have to hit you what, six or seven times, before you hit me once, where you automatically win if I touch any part of your exposed skin, and where you win simply if I fail to. My ten year old nephew would stand a good chance with those odds.”

Dana thought about it a second. She wasn’t a prude or anything - she had actually went topless on a beach in the French Riviera once – but the thought of undressing in front of her colleagues was simply intolerable.

The deal was enticing, though. Even if Rick got extraordinarily lucky, he’d only hit her a maximum of three times before she could nail him. Worst case scenario, she’d lose the top and bottom of her outer clothing.

She asked him a few more questions, clarifying the rules. If he hit partway on clothing and partway on skin, it only counted as a loss for him if more than half the impact were on the skin. He also pointed out that she couldn’t hide in the ladies room all day and win that way. Finally, he added that there would be a short period after he scored a strike where neither player could shoot. That would give him a chance to get away and not allow her to lose multiple pieces at the same time.

She agreed that both her shoes and whatever hosiery she chose would be counted as one item each, but what she made sure of was that he never once mentioned anything else about what, or how many, clothes she could wear.

“It’s on,” she said.

End Part 1

Start Part 2

On Friday morning, Dana chose her outfit with great care. First, she picked her oldest jacket, blouse, and skirt from her closet and put it on the bed. Knowing that it was quite likely that any or all those items would probably be forfeit at some point, she found a white jogging bra and blue boy shorts that could pretty much pass for acceptable outer attire.

Before putting those on, however, she pulled on her skimpiest bra, a black lacy number that covered very little of her breasts and had only the thinnest of straps in the back, and her tiniest thong. If the unthinkable happened and she lost either of her pieces of underwear, her most intimate parts would still be covered, and the tiny amounts of fabric would make it impossible for him to hit the clothes without hitting skin.

Her biggest choice ended up being whether to go with panty hose or stockings. Thinking of anyone in the office seeing her wearing hose, however, made her decide on stay up thigh highs.

She felt confident the entire ride to the office. He would have to hit her nine times to win, a feat which she felt was firmly in the realm of the impossible.

She checked her paintball pistol, purchased for $39.99 the night before at WalMart, before exiting her car. Rick had contemptuously offered to provide her with a gun, but she had declined saying that she would use her own equipment.

She parked away from any other vehicles, figuring that Rick would want to set up an ambush. Even so, she bent down to look underneath the distant cars. Seeing no sign of life, she slowly crossed the parking lot.

There were two rows of hedges that lined the sidewalk up to the entry of the building, and she realized that these would provide an excellent hiding place.

Keeping at least one hundred feet between her and the greenery, she carefully checked the backside of the row nearest her, the sidewalk in between, and the other side of the row that had been farthest. There was no sign of him.

Still wary, she crept up to the glass doors. The well lit lobby was totally empty. She quickly entered, keeping her eyes alert for any movement at the numerous entryways surrounding her. She pressed the up button and turned around to stand with her back against the wall between the two cars. The ding sounded to her right, and the elevator doors parted. She cautiously peeked around the edge to ensure that it was empty before getting in.

Even though her office was on the fourteenth floor, she pressed the button for fifteen. Still moving slowly, she exited there and walked down the corridor, eyes scanning constantly from side to side and pistol elevated, to the stairwell.

She quietly opened the door, checked for any sign of life, and entered, closing the door behind her as silently as possible. Dana slipped off her shoes and held them in one hand while keeping the arm holding the gun raised.

Tiptoeing down the steps, she remained alert for the slightest sound, but, as she reached the landing of the floor below, she had neither seen nor heard anyone. She was almost disappointed in her opponent. Wasn’t he even going to try?

Still, the most likely place for an ambush would be right outside her office. She would have to be extremely careful for the next part.

She peered through the small glass window in the fire door and saw no one in the corridor outside. All she had to do was cross the hall and walk past two open doorways before reaching relative safety.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she opened the access barely enough for her to squeeze through soundlessly. If she could have, she would have eliminated even the faint click, but the door’s closer wouldn’t let it stay propped open even a little.

Dana crept to the first door.

Peeking around, she saw no one. She darted past it.

She repeated the procedure at the second door.

Finally, she stood, back to the wall, beside the entrance to her office.

Steeling herself, she noiselessly placed her shoes on the carpeted floor and counted to three.

With both arms extended in front of her holding the pistol, she exploded into the room. The point of the gun swung from point to point in a 180 degree arc.

Just as she relaxed minutely, a figure popped up from behind the desk, and she felt a small jolt right between her breasts.

A blue stain appeared on her white blouse.

End Part 2
Start Part 3

“Gotcha,” Rick said.

She couldn’t believe it. After being so, so careful, he had hid behind her desk. How had such a large guy hidden behind the small piece of furniture anyway?

She didn’t say anything. Instead she removed her jacket and began unbuttoning the shirt.

‘It’s no big deal,’ she told herself. ‘You’ve worn this same jogging bra working out.’

She didn’t believe herself though. There’s a big difference between wearing navel exposing attire in the gym and wearing it in the office. There’s also a big difference between wearing something while walking out of the locker room and stripping off your shirt in front of a rival.

Dana kept her composure, though.

She took off the blouse and handed it to him before putting her jacket back on.

“Lucky shot. It won’t happen again,” she said.

He just smirked.

“Follow me.”

“Where…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t shoot you again until you get back to your desk.”

With the outer garment covering her bare midsection, she didn’t look that odd, though maybe showing a bit more cleavage than usual for a workday, so she wasn’t too embarrassed as he led her to the copy room.

She was aghast, however, when he took her top and shoved it into the company’s industrial strength paper shredder. In less than a second, her former white shirt was converted to a handful of fabric shards.

“That’s all. You can go.”

She was fuming by the time she got back to her office. Putting her pistol on top of her desk, she sat down.

As she did, a blur of a figure appeared in the doorway, and she felt another jolt right between her breasts.

Another blue spot appeared on her chest, this time on her sports bra.

“What? How?”

“No sense trying to figure it out, honey. Just give it to me.”

Wordlessly, she once again removed the jacket.

‘I can’t go through with this,’ she thought.

It was one thing to strip down to something she wore to work out. It was another thing entirely to be seen in the office wearing a skimpy, only barely opaque, bra, and there was no way to cover herself, either. The jacket simply didn’t conceal that much of her breasts.

“You really are going to make me take this off?”

“You play; you pay.”

She wouldn’t let him see her cry.

Defiantly, she ripped it off, exposing her lacy undergarment, and tossed it to him.

“Very clever,” he said.

Had he not known she was wearing the tiny black bra? Would he have left her there topless if she hadn’t been? He apparently meant to take this all the way.

She put her jacket back on and closed the door behind him. He wouldn’t catch her the same way twice. Besides, that way her coworkers in the hall wouldn’t be gawking at her every time one of them had to pass her door.

She couldn’t stay in her office with the door closed all day, though. For one thing, it violated the rules, and, for another, she had a meeting to attend at 10 am.

She had never felt such trepidation about doing anything in her life.

Rick was her only true rival at the company, but she didn’t exactly have a lot of friends, either. She knew that the women would be snickering at her exposure, and God knows what the men would be thinking about her.

There was no help for it, though.

This meeting was held weekly, and she was sure that Rick knew about it. He was sure to be gunning for her.

Grabbing a mirror from her purse, she cracked open the door and peered out, using the reflective surface stuck out in front of her to determine that there was no sign of anyone in the corridor.

She carefully stepped out. Luckily, the conference room wasn’t far, just on the other side of the stairwell.

There were three offices between her and her destination, one with its door closed. That meant there were five possible places for him to be lying in wait – in one of the two open doorways, in the stairwell, behind the closed door, or in the conference room itself.

She resolved to be exceedingly careful this time; she couldn’t afford anymore mistakes. Imagining walking in wearing just a bra covering her top made her almost panic.

Using the mirror to see inside the first office, she discovered that it appeared to be empty, so she scuttled past it.

The next office, Carol’s, had its door closed. As she stood before it, trying to decide whether to go inside or attempt to keep watch behind her, she felt something on her lower right thigh.

She reached down to touch the spot, covered by her skirt, and discovered that it was wet.

‘What in the world?’

She grimaced as she brought her hand back up to her face. There was blue paint on it.

She whirled around.

There, leaning smugly against the door frame of the office she had just checked, was Rick holding his paintball gun.

“I can’t believe… You…”

Dana couldn’t even figure out what she wanted to say. Instead, she unbuttoned the skirt, and pushed it down her thighs. It landed in a heap at the floor.

She stepped out of it, reached down, and picked it up. Staring at it wistfully, she tossed it to him.

“Can you promise not to shoot me again until I’m back at my desk?”

Dana couldn’t believe she was resorting to begging.

He shook his head.

“Look, I have to go to the restroom. Can you at least promise to wait until I make it to the meeting?”

“I can do that if you accompany me to the copy room.”

That was something at least. She nodded.

Following after him, she cringed every time anyone saw her. She didn’t even want to know what her coworkers were thinking. Mainly to get her mind off her exposure, she tried to talk to him.

“I couldn’t help but notice that your shots don’t sting as much as I’m used to. The last time I played paintball, I had bruises for weeks. I don’t think that yours even left a mark.”

“I bought these special for today. They are a lot softer than normal ones, and the paint cleans up easier too.”

“Why?”

“Figured I’d be hitting you in some sensitive areas. Didn’t want to hurt you.”

Dana was shocked. Up until that moment, she had figured that he had no regard for her whatsoever. Now it appeared that he went out of his way not to harm her.

“I don’t understand. It’s okay to try to strip me naked in the office, but a small sting is bad?”

“Yep. That’s about the size of it.”

“That idiotic.”

He grinned.

“I was taught to never hit a lady, except maybe on the rear end.”

“You don’t think that it will harm me even worse to be humiliated beyond belief in front of my colleagues?”

“Nope. I think it’ll do you some good.”

She stared after him in disbelief as he entered the copy room. Her mind simply could not comprehend his way of thinking.

‘I will not cry. I will not cry,’ she thought as she watched him shred her skirt, and, with it, another small piece of her dignity.

Regardless of the strength of her will, she began to feel her eyes start to water. Without a word, she ran out and dashed into the restroom.

After doing her business, her emotions got the best of her. She began bawling.

She finally regained control of herself after about five minutes.

‘Get a hold of yourself, girl. You’re better than this. Crying in a restroom because some guy is trying to embarrass you?’

She left the stall, and, after cleaning herself up, stared at herself in the mirror. Her shoulder length brown hair was still immaculate, and her newly refreshed makeup looked good. Her wide, hazel eyes were only a touch red. From the neck up, she was the very picture of a young, up and coming professional.

From the neck down, however, not so much. Her smart suit jacket would have been pretty impressive if not for all the exposed skin. The black bra pushed her 36C breasts obscenely up, and a hint of her areolas was visible above the lacy top of the cups. Her boy shorts were covered, mercifully, but barely. The jacket stopped just south of her butt cheeks, revealing an expanse of pale flesh above the frilly, sheer tops of her stockings, and the heels, which had looked so respectable this morning, would have been more appropriate for a prostitute with her conservative skirt removed.

Knowing that the jacket not only provided her the most coverage but also was the biggest target on her body, she removed it to see what she would look like without it.

The answer was a complete and total slut.

The brief boy shorts combined with the sexy bra and stockings served to display her body, not to hide it. The contrast between the fabric and the exposed skin highlighted her athletic thighs, taut stomach, and the tops of her fleshy globes. Her hard nipples strained against the flimsy material providing only the scantest modesty.

She had not thought this situation out well enough. She had figured that the boy shorts and a jogging bra wouldn’t be that bad. They would have been. With the skimpy lingerie top, though, she looked positively obscene. As one of her more juvenile college boyfriends would have put it, she looked doable. Though a small, almost unnoticed, part of her brain changed that to “fuckable.”

‘I can’t go out there like this. Once he hits the jacket, everyone in the office will be staring at me. I simply can’t do it.’

Dana had never backed away from a challenge in her life. That which must be endured, could be endured. She seriously wanted, though, to find Rick and beg to be let out of the deal. His skill at paintball obviously eclipsed hers by a great degree, and, if she continued, she’d surely be left naked and exposed to the entire office.

As she studied herself in the mirror, she became less and less certain of the surety of his victory. She was a strong, athletic woman with a high IQ and a will to succeed greater than anyone she had ever encountered. Surely some of those shots had been lucky. She had been wearing so much that he was sure to have hit some article of clothing or another.

Her attire now was a different story. Once the jacket was gone, the target areas would decrease substantially. Targeting either the bra or panties would leave small opportunity for error indeed. Sure, she’d be subjected to everyone seeing her dressed like this, but, once he hit skin, she’d be the winner. She’d spend the rest of the day holed up in her office. For the party, her clothes were obviously lost forever, but she could demand that he give her the shirt off his back. See how he liked going around the office half naked.

Buoyed by the return of her confidence, she put the jacket back on and walked to the conference room. By that time, everyone else was seated, and it looked like they were ready to get started. Luckily, not all the chairs were occupied, so there was a seat available on the opposite side of the table facing the door.

She saw and felt every eye following her as she walked around the room, mentally recording each jiggle of her bra encased orbs, each tensing and relaxing of her thigh muscles.

It was hard to keep her demeanor stern and secure under those conditions, but she managed.

‘Never let them see you sweat,’ she thought.

She placed the pistol on the table in front of her and kept rapt attention on the door. Being seated offered her a little comfort at least in that her lower half was out of view and she blended with the others instead of being the only one standing.

As the chair called the meeting to order, she devoted only part of her mind to the proceedings. The rest of her focus was on not getting ambushed again. A short time later, she almost shot one the admins who poked her head in to pass along a message.

As the meeting progressed, however, her heart rate increased, and she began perspiring. She realized that it was her week to do the budget update, which required standing in the front of the room to point out trends on figures projected on the white board.

She already noticed her coworkers sneaking furtive glances at her. While she was speaking, they’d not only have an excuse to stare at her directly; they’d practically be expected to.

She almost got up to walk out but remembered her agreement to carry out her normal job duties. It seemed to her that trying to conduct her presentation from her seat would also count as shirking her responsibilities.

‘No help for it,’ she thought as the chair turned the meeting over to her.

The only small mercy was that the lights were dimmed as Bill started the projector. Still, the ambient light from the numerous windows, though covered with blinds, provided more than enough illumination to show her all too uncovered form.

Though full of inner trepidation, she kept up her outward façade of calm, getting up and walking to the front of the room, feeling their eyes fixated on the backs of her naked thighs. She could only hope that she hadn’t flashed her panties as well.

Stammering through the speech, she tried her best to maintain her composure. Each stutter and flub compounded the problem, though, and further eroded her fading poise. She had become so flustered near the end that she had forgotten all about the door and turned her back to it while pointing out a particularly severe dip in the sales data.

Her first awareness of the severity of her mistake came when she felt the small pop in the middle of her back.

She hadn’t heard a thing, and no one in the room had made any kind of motion toward the entrance. They all seemed as shocked as she.

She turned to see the tiniest crack between the door and the frame and a small, black tube sticking though it before Rick burst into the room.

Her jaw dropped at his dramatic arrival.

She was on the verge of thinking admirable thoughts about his paintball ability when he smiled in the smug way of his and held out his hand.

It was only then that she realized the true impact of his latest exploit. Not only would everyone in the room see her without the jacket, he expected her to take it off in front of them.

She stared into his eyes, opening hers as wide as possible, pleading.

His only response was the briefest shake of his head.

“You… You… Bastard!”

She never, ever swore, not even using the most innocuous of vulgar language.

With trembling fingers, Dana undid the two buttons holding the jacket closed. Facing her audience, she pulled it off her shoulders and, after working the reluctant sleeve over the bulky pistol, let it drop into a single hand behind her back. She couldn’t look at anyone, knowing that a single glance at the sheer number of witnesses to her humiliation would drive her to a total breakdown.

Instead, she focused only on him. Her rival. No, her enemy.

She couldn’t understand why he hated her so much, why he wanted to destroy her. Couldn’t he see what this was doing to her? Did he simply not care?

She threw the jacket at him and, for once not caring about rules, ran out of the room and all the way to her office.

After slamming the door, she buried her head in the hands on the desk and let the tears come.

End Part 3

Start Part 4

She stayed in her office with the door closed until the early afternoon, skipping lunch entirely, and contemplated staying there all day, rules be damned. There was, however, one work task that she absolutely had to get done today, and it involved getting some records from the file room.

All she had to do was make it down the corridor to the area behind the elevator, retrieve a box, and get back without getting hit. If she did, she could hole up the rest of the afternoon and actually pull off a victory by default.

Technically, that would be a violation of their agreement, but she no longer cared.

‘Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of insanity,’ she thought.

The stealth method of moving around simply hadn’t been working for her. This time, speed would provide her defense. After all, it’s much harder to hit a moving target, and her opponent had to be precise with his shots if he wanted to win.

Instead of stopping at the door, cracking it, and watching for any sign of life, she rushed out the door at a fast clip, striding down the hallway with purpose. Though she kept alert and her gun ready, she didn’t stop, or even slow, for anything.

The accelerated motion caused her breasts to heave wildly, but, beyond making sure that they stayed contained in the foundation garment, she did her best to ignore both them and the looks they elicited. Beyond the assault her dignity took with each coworker she passed, she suffered no other harm before reaching her destination.

Both the elevator shaft and the mechanical room lay on the north side in the middle of the floor. In an effort to get as much rentable space as possible, the building’s designers had converted a basically unusable space into a storage area by linking it to the main corridor by a small passageway. Once you traversed the narrow walkway, the area widened to allow enough space for a row of shelves on one side and file cabinets on the other.

As Dana entered the space, she stopped for a minute to think about her situation.

She needed to dig through the files to find a reference number that would lead her to the location of a box on the shelves. While doing so, she’d be extremely vulnerable to attack as she wouldn’t be able to pay full attention to her surroundings. Also, it was probable that any one of the people she passed earlier would have reported her whereabouts to Rick.

All in all, her circumstances weren’t very promising. She was in an exposed position and likely to encounter hostile forces.

Looking around the room, she discovered a long sheet of cardboard propped against the wall.

‘I can do something with that,’ she thought.

The strip was approximately five feet long and a little over two feet wide. She grabbed it and situated it so that it leaned against the wall at the corner of the room, blocking the entryway. She then snatched an old office chair and put it against the cardboard. Finally, she wadded up a bunch of sheets of copy paper and scattered them throughout the passageway and made a pile of them on the side of the barrier opposite the file room.
‘That’s better.’

If Rick came after her, her improvised wall wouldn’t completely block his view, but it would obstruct it. The best part, though, was that there was no way he could fire over it without coming right up next to it and still hit any covered parts of her body.

He would only have two choices, approach the cardboard to fire around or over it or try to rush through it. If he choose the first option, the paper would alert her to his presence and at least give her a fighting chance. If he choose the latter, and she rather hoped that he did, he would find himself on the floor tangled up in the chair.

She smiled and began looking for her file, which didn’t prove to difficult to locate. The box that it led her to wasn’t hard to find either but getting to it was going to be a pain. It was sitting on the floor in the back corner. The only problem was that there were another seven boxes on top of it.

She had removed five of them when she felt it, a small, now familiar, bump on her left butt cheek.

She whirled around to confront him, but there was no one there. She reached back and discovered that, yes, there was now a large blue splotch on her backside.

How the heck had he shot her?

He wasn’t in the room. There was no black gun barrel sticking either over or around barrier. Heck, there was no way he could have gotten close enough to the cardboard to shoot around it without making enough noise to get her attention.

Then she spotted it, a small black streak on the white paint of the wall.

‘No way. He couldn’t have.’

It was the only explanation, though. He had to have stood way back in the passageway in order to see her, made the paintball ricochet off the wall, and hit her square in the middle of her butt cheek.

Wordlessly, she shucked the boy shorts and tossed them out of the room.

Her situation was quite dire at this point. All she had left on was a lacy black bra, a tiny thong, stockings, and heels. The only thing among those four that provided any coverage whatsoever was the hosiery, and it served to make her feel more exposed, not less.

She had misjudged her rival’s talent, thinking that there was no way he could hit the small bit of fabric covering her most private areas without contacting the skin. Judging from that last shot, he wouldn’t have a problem with it.

At this point, her best case scenario was that he would only hit her bra as she made her way back to her office, leaving her topless at work, and she was beginning to think that there was a realistic chance that he could strip her entirely.

He had made it clear that he wasn’t going to let her out the deal, and she had serious doubts about her defensive strategy. She only had two chances to win, hide or fight back.

Assuming that she could make it back to her office losing only her top, how bad would it be? A few people were sure to see her nude breasts, but, as long as she could go the rest of day without losing anything else, she could use her hands for cover until she made Rick give her his shirt.

How safe was her office, though? She didn’t know how much protection that closed door actually provided.

She thought back to him three times shooting her without her even knowing he was anywhere near her and twice more getting her by popping up out of nowhere. Couldn’t he just as easily kick the door open and tag her before she could react.

No, waiting for him to come to her was an invitation to disaster.

Her only real option was to try to score a hit on him.

Going with the theory that her fast pace had at least kept him from shooting her en route, she stuffed the box under one arm, hoisted the pistol in front of her with the opposite hand, and hustled out of the room. She stopped at the entrance to the main corridor though.

‘I might as well be bottomless for all this tiny thong covers from behind. If I step out there, I’m going to be showing off my bare butt to half the office.’

Before she could gather up enough courage to do what she knew she must, she felt a sharp sting on her right breast.

She looked down in a panic.

Sure enough, the lacy black fabric had turned blue in a circular pattern just below her nipple.

End Part 4

Start Part 5

Rick had to admit that she had a killer body. He couldn’t believe the size of the chest she usually kept hidden under those stern business jackets she favored. She obviously worked out because there wasn’t an inch to pinch anywhere on her tummy or thighs, and that lingerie showed her off to much advantage.

If not for her miserable attitude, she wouldn’t be unattractive, either. No one would think that she would win Miss Universe or anything, but her face was well above average.

Her normal smug demeanor wasn’t ruining her looks now, though. In fact, he found the vulnerability she was currently displaying quite enticing.

He shook his head. This was no time to get soft.

He held out his hand.

To his amusement, she tried the pleading look again. Her eyes were wide enough to look like Puss in Boots from the Shrek movies, but something about the set of her mouth and position of her chin belied an underlying haughtiness the spoiled the effect.

“Hand it over,” he said.

She gave him an angry glare but didn’t voice any complaints as she bent down to put the box and the gun on the floor. At least he could admire her spirit and, he had to admit, the view of her cleavage that his position gave him.

He couldn’t help but become a little aroused as she reached behind her back and unlatched the bra before shrugging it off her shoulders. She used her other hand to keep it clutched to her chest for a few moments, obviously reluctant to lose this vital piece of covering. Finally, she pulled the bra away from her, but immediately covered herself with her opposite arm as she tossed him the garment.

“No covering,” he said.

“I never agreed to that. If you win, you can tell me to do anything you want, but, until then, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Have it your way, but I’ll remember this later.”

He could see her indecision, rather to humiliate herself further now or risk even worse embarrassment later. She apparently decided that she still had some chance of winning because she kept her boobs tightly concealed as she bent to pick up the box.

He tried to stop himself from looking as she walked away, but that’s not easy to do when a good looking woman with an almost bare ass is walking away from you. He did stop himself before letting out a low whistle, though.

Bob, however, apparently felt no such compunction when she passed his cubicle a few moments later.

He half expected Dana to turn and give what for to the little punk, but she kept her stare straight ahead and kept on trucking. Bob popped out into the corridor to watch her retreat. He waited until she passed completely from sight before turning and walking back to Rick.

“Man, way to strip that bitch. Give me a high five,” Bob said.

Rick responded as requested before he thought about it, and Bob strode away chuckling after they smacked hands.

As Rick turned to carry the bra to the copy room, his friend, Vern, joined him.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I just see you high fiving Bob?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Well, my recollection is that you think he is about the most sleazy person you have ever met. I’ve never seen the two of you agree on anything,” Vern said.

“And?”
“Nothing. Just that, before Dana’s arrival, you disliked him more than anyone else on the planet, but I never heard you once complain to Jim or plan to teach him a lesson.”

“And?”

“Again, nothing. I’ve also seen you do what was necessary to correct the actions of your team members, though not by doing anything this severe, but didn’t you say that time when George was messing up his division so badly that the other leads weren’t your responsibility?”

“Do you have a point in all this, or do are you just exercising your gums?”

“No point. I was thinking, though, that you certainly display a passion towards her, even if it is hatred, that I haven’t seen you direct toward anyone since your ex-wife.”

Rick didn’t reply, and Vern took his leave.

If you asked Rick to find adjectives to describe himself, he’d probably come up with tough, rugged, manly, maybe even patient and meticulous. Introspective, however, would not be one of those words.

The juxtaposition of Vern calling him out and agreeing with Bob rattled him though. Why did he care so much? He didn’t rightly know.

What he was certain of, however, was that, once he started something, he finished it.

Upon reaching his office, the ringing phone broke him out of his reverie.

“This is Rick.”

“Hey, it’s Carol. She just passed my office and entered the stairwell.”

“Great. Thanks for the info.”

“No problem. Bye.”

So the hunted thought to become the hunter, did she? He knew how to handle that.

*****

Dana absolutely hated walking around the office wearing so little, but the thought of the total humiliation to come if she didn’t prevail forced her hand. With one arm clutched over the naked breasts and the other holding the pistol out in front of her, she left her office.

She had to score a hit on him and, to do so, had to get the drop on him.

She had to do what he didn’t expect. Instead of traipsing down the corridor of their offices, she’d go up to the next floor, which was largely unoccupied, cross the building, and come back down on the other side of his office. With any luck, he wouldn’t be expecting her, and she’d be able to tag him.

Though it was a nerve wracking journey spent envisioning random office workers discovering her more than half naked, she made it to the bottom of the stairwell on the opposite side without encountering anyone. Once there, she decided to abandon her speed over stealth approach, figuring that her best bet would be to catch her prey unaware.

She stuck her head into the corridor and looked both ways. Upon seeing no one, she stepped quietly out into the open and used her behind to soften the door’s closing.

She then tip toed toward Rick’s office, passing a lone unoccupied office along the way. At the edge of his doorway, she steeled herself, ready to pop into the room and fire off a shot.

‘On three,’ she thought. ‘One. Two…’

Just then, she felt a poke in the small of her back.

‘No. It couldn’t be.’

Using her hand holding the gun, she felt the spot, right at the tiny triangle of material of her thong.

It was wet.

She whirled around to see Rick standing there.

“No!”

“Yep,” he said. “Hand ‘em over.”

She couldn’t believe it; she owed him her thong. That was the only item of clothing left that covered anything at all of consequence.

Dana bent over and put the gun on the carpet. She straightened back up and stood there for a moment, one arm at her side and one covering her breasts, frozen by the magnitude of what she knew she had to do.

Finally, keeping her boobs as covered as she could, she hooked the thumb of her free hand under the string at the side of the thong. She pushed down until it rested just above the top of the stocking on her thigh. Then, using in the same hand, she did the same on the other side, revealing the soft brown curls of her landing strip.

She hated showing him that much, but there was not much she could do about it. Once she got it down past her hips, she moved her hand to cover her bush, parted her legs, and let the garment fall to the floor.

Kicking it off, she said, “There. Are you happy now?”

“Not quite. Hand them to me.”

She had tried everything that she could think of to win the contest, and, now, she stood in the middle of the office wearing nothing but black thigh high stockings and heels, completely humiliated. There was nothing left in her to resist him.

Trying to get it over with as quickly as possible, she bent at the knees, uncovered her pubic area, grabbed the thong. She couldn’t help but notice that the paintball had landed dead square in the center of the tiny triangle.

‘I have no chance,’ she thought as she threw it to him.

As he caught it, she rose up and covered herself once again.

“I give up,” she said.

“What?”

“I surrender. You win. You’re much better at this than I am.”

Dana kicked off her shoes.

There was no way to take off stockings one handed, not without making the process painfully long anyway.

She dropped her hands, baring all of herself to him for the first time.

Blushing, she bent over and took off first one stocking and then the other before returning her hands to their protective positions.

“I must confess,” he said, “that I am impressed. I didn’t think that you would ever admit to anyone being better than you. Don’t think your giving up is going to get you out of the party, though.”

She stared at the ground.

“No. I don’t think that at all.”

“I will, however, give you a choice. You can keep your hands where they are and go back to your office. If you do, every person in the building is going to be stopping in to ask you questions. In fact, I think that you’re the designated security monitor this month, are you not? I’m pretty sure that there’s some paperwork that simply has to be signed today in the guard’s office. You know where that is, down where all the janitors and maintenance people work?”

She grimaced.

“On the other hand, you can stipulate to no covering for the rest of the day, walk all the way back to your desk with your hands at your side, and you can stay there, with the door closed and undisturbed, until the party.”

With him putting it that way, she really didn’t have much of a choice at all. Covering up now would only delay the inevitable, while giving in would gain her a few hours of peace at least.

Once again, she dropped her arms.

“There. Happy now?”

“Actually, I am.”

Not knowing what else to do, she stood there and let him look.

His eyes roved all over her body. Taking in her breasts, her bush, her legs, everything. She had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in all her life.

After visually devouring her for several minutes, he said, “okay, you can go now.”

She turned around to find half the workers in the office staring at her nude form.

End Part 5

Start Part 6

‘Oh God. They’ve been staring at my butt this whole time,’ Dana thought.

She decided that that was an incredibly stupid thing to think when they were now, in fact, staring at much more than her behind.

Their eyes were on her uncovered breasts, the curly landing strip leading to her bare clit, everything. Except for the area concealed by her clenched legs, they could see all of her.

She wanted to die.

Her hands moved briefly to cover herself before she remembered her deal and dropped them.

She froze.

Though she wanted more than anything to be away from their prying eyes, she couldn’t make her muscles move. She just stood there, like some kind of female version of Michelangelo’s David, naked, waiting to be ogled by the masses.

Her admirers seemed as stunned as she.

They, too, stood silently. Watching. Leering.

All might have stayed rooted in place the rest of the afternoon had not Bob spoken.

“Well alright baby, shake it. Give us a show.”

That was enough to break Dana from her stupor.

Not daring to look high enough to meet anyone’s eye, she kept her gaze on the floor about five feet in front of her as she began her deliberate walk.

Her limbs wanted to race, to flee the scene as quickly as her athletic legs would carry her. Instead, she forced them to a sedate pace, plodding one foot in front of the other doing her best to modulate the swaying of her unfettered breasts as she padded toward the crowd.

They parted for her much like the Red Sea for Moses’ upraised staff, crowding each other to give her passage. She half expected to feel hands reach out to explore her vulnerable skin as she moved by, in some case within bare inches, her coworkers clothed bodies. No one molested her, though, not even Bob, and she soon cleared the throng of onlookers.

From the sounds behind her, she did not find release from their scrutiny, and the path ahead only yielded more opportunities for fresh humiliation.

Her eyes watered.

She fought hard to keep from letting the tears escape; she would hold on to that much of her dignity at least.

Dana ducked into the restroom and locked the door behind her.

The coldness of the tiles on her bare feet brought home the reality of her nakedness in a way that her experience in the hallway had not.

‘They saw me. They saw all of me.’

The men in the office would no longer have to guess what she looked like under her clothes when they fantasized about her. The women would make catty comments about her flaws. She held no secrets from them now.

She could hold sobs back no longer, and the tiny trickle leaking from her eyes soon became a flood.

‘Why do they all hate me so?’

It took her several minutes to get herself back under control. She had never considered herself weak and wasn’t about to let herself go to pieces now, no matter how horrid the situation.

After drying her eyes and washing her face the best she could without ruining her makeup, she wetted a paper towel and began cleaning off the specks of blue dotting her body.

Even though Rick was a excellent marksman, exploding paintballs leave a bigger splash area than could be contained by the scant clothing she had been wearing at the end. The top half of her right boob had a good deal of paint on it, and the substance covered her lower back and butt. Luckily, it appeared that it dissolved in water, so she was able to get it all off with enough rubbing.

Dana had never had any exhibitionist tendencies but did equate nudity and sex, leading to a small feeling of arousal at her stripping naked in a public corridor. The intense rubbing of her breasts and backside only enhanced those feelings, but she mercilessly exorcised these thoughts as they arose.

‘It’s time to get out of here.’

She glanced wistfully around the room before turning to the door.

The crowd had dissipated somewhat in the interim. Only Bob and a couple of other guys remained waiting for her.

She did her best to ignore them as she continued on to her office.

Every office along the corridor had it’s doors open, and every occupant seemed to be at their desk. Those not lucky enough to have their work areas located along her route apparently found reason to visit those who did.

All stared at her as she passed, and none appeared surprised to see the young manager walked bare ass down the hall in the middle of the workday. The only shocked expression was on the face of the UPS delivery man, who stepped out of the elevator right before she passed.

For some reason, him seeing her was almost worse than the others.

It was impossible to disregard all the onlookers, but she did not let her trepidation show. Instead she maintained her constant, plodding pace until she reached her office.

With a sigh of relief, she slammed her door and collapsed into her chair.

The first thing she did after waking her computer from its sleep mode was to start up Word and pen her resignation letter. She didn’t have the energy to gather up her personal effects right then and certainly wasn’t going to leave the safety of the enclosed space to go find a box.

She’d return on Saturday to print the document and clear out her things and that would be the last anyone at the company would ever see of her.

‘If I’m going to leave without giving two weeks notice, the least I can do is finish up my project.’

She spent the next half hour tidying up her files and writing a report.

‘There. That’s about as neat as it gets. Now what?”

She usually didn’t find herself with free time at work, but she simply had no desire to do anything else even remotely productive today.

As she sat considering what she wanted to do to fill her last remaining hours at this job, she began to pay attention to the sensations that she was feeling.

Being naked in her office was a new and strange experience. Her breasts hung unsupported and out in the open. Any movement caused them to sway and jiggle, and her arms kept brushing up against the bare flesh.

The cool air from the vents caused her unprotected nipples to harden, and the coarse fabric of the executive chair rubbed suggestively against her nether regions whenever she shifted in her seat. She discovered her hand trying to make it’s way down into her lap.

Hastily, she pulled it out and put it on the mouse, double clicking the icon to open Internet Explorer.

Dana chose her reading material carefully. She wanted books that stimulated her intellectually and that furthered her education and career. She would never deign to read popular fiction. Instead, she focused on the classics and on poetry.

She allowed herself only one vice, romance.

One weekend while bored and having no either unread books or ones that she had any desire to reread in the house, she did a search for free writing and discovered Literotica. For the most part, she considered most of the stories to be crap at best but did discover quite a few gems. Besides, what it lacked in quality, it more than made up for in quantity, and it was totally free.

Normally, she would never visit such a site while at work, but, being that it was her last day here, she made an exception.

Once there, she checked out the “New” section but didn’t find much posted there to interest her. She had already picked through everything listed in the Romance Toplists several times over and didn’t have any desire to start wading through the thousands of random stories that didn’t make the top two hundred and fifty for the genre. On a lark, she went to the search stories feature and entered “naked at work.”

The first story she read dealt with an attorney who worked at a clothing company and, because of stress, developed a severe allergy to clothing. The protagonists only relief came from, of course, having orgasms. Dana found the premise implausible but couldn’t help but notice her hand trying to sneak down into her lap several times.

She continued down the list and read story after story. One in particular that caught her attention was about an ad exec working for a software company who loses her clothes because of an ill advised bet.

Some of them she read completely while some she just skimmed through. There were many plots. Some women lost bets, some were blackmailed, and some wanted to seduce their bosses. All of them ended up butt naked at their workplaces, usually humiliated in front of their colleagues.

Dana spent almost two hours going through the stories, all the while finding it harder and harder to resist her needs. She would often not realize what she was doing before she felt her own hand caressing her sensitive folds of flesh. Once her conscious mind did discover her treacherous appendage’s action, she quickly returned the offending digit to the top of her desk. Soon, however, she had to grab a tissue to clean herself up and leave another one on the chair to catch the dripping fluid.

One part of her mind screamed at her that she was behaving in a dangerous and irrational way. Reading such arousing material while in such a vulnerable position surely wasn’t a good idea. The part that wanted the stimulation overruled such reasonable thoughts.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, she had given up any pretense at keeping her hands on her desk and was actively stroking her clit while reading the erotic passages.

Then the knock came, preceding her door opening by mere moments.

End Part 6

Start Part 7

Dana didn’t have much time. She hastily clicked the “X” to close the browser window and grabbed the tissue sitting in her lap. Giving herself a brief wipe, she tossed it in the trash just as Rick’s head appeared.

“Ready?”

She knew her face must be flushed, but maybe he’d think it was just the embarrassment of being naked. Him even suspecting what she had been doing would have taken her humiliation to a whole new level.

“No. But I guess that doesn’t much matter to you, does it.”

“It takes two to tango. I wasn’t holding a gun to your head when you agreed to the bet.”

She knew he was right, which galled her even more.

Wordlessly, she stood, displaying her body to him once again.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said.

She still couldn’t believe that it had come to this, her naked breasts, butt, and bush on display in the office, all because of some stupid offhand comments.

Rick took grabbed her hand. It felt so rough, so strong. Did hers feel soft and delicate to him?

She shook her head. Why should she care what her tormenter felt?

He led her into the deserted corridor. She had figured that there would be people standing around gawking, but there was nary a soul.

They didn’t encounter anyone during the short commute to the conference room either, and, once she entered the room, she discovered why.

The entire office staff was crammed into the small space, and every eye in the place was focused on one thing - Dana’s naked body.

She could only hope and pray that they didn’t notice the glistening remnants of her previous activity.

Not wanting to meet anyone’s eye, she looked at the spread on the conference room table. Apparently, she was the only one who thought she had stood any kind of chance at winning the wager because all the decorations were embossed with Playboy bunnies and naked girl images. The cake itself was a caricature of a nude female form with huge breasts and brown hair, both on top of the head and covering the pubic area.

There were even girl shaped balloons.

Most disturbing, however, was the sight of a huge purple dildo laying on the table and, almost as bad, a DSLR camera set up on a tripod beside it.

She grabbed Rick’s shoulder and pulled his ear down to her mouth.

‘Umm, Old Spice,’ she thought.

“You didn’t say anything about pictures,” she whispered.

He didn’t bother to lower his voice.

“I said anything that I wanted. I want photographic proof.”

She shuddered at the thought of images of this event being posted for anyone to see.

As a start to the festivities, he had everyone get in line as he stepped behind the camera. Carol was first up.

“How do you want her?” Rick asked.

Carol had the biggest shit eating grin on her face.

“Sitting on my lap.”

She sat down and motioned for the naked girl to join her. Dana did her best to sit demurely with her legs tightly closed, but Carol was having none of it.

“No, girl, get your rump back against my tummy and straddle my legs with yours. I want all of you in the frame.”

Wincing, Dana did as she was told.

Rick took three shots before declaring it “good enough.”

Dana had thought that things couldn’t possibly get anymore humiliating than spreading her legs for the camera while sitting on a female coworkers lap. She was proven wrong when Carol stood up and announced to everyone that Dana had left a wet spot on her skirt.

Everyone laughed, and, if she weren’t beet red before, Dana turned that shade now.

The next four customers were all ladies, and they seemed much more embarrassed by the whole thing than Carol did. Their shots were with both of them standing. The position showed her nude from head to toe, but, at least, they weren’t obscene.

Then it was time for the guys to start taking a turn.

Bob was first up.

“I want her on all fours on top of the table.”

Dana looked, pleading, at Rick for confirmation that she had to follow these orders. She found no respite in his hard glare.

With the exception of the pictures with Carol, she had been able to mostly avoid having anyone see her most private parts. She was unable to maintain even that slight modesty as she climbed onto the piece of furniture.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the guys behind her bend down to get a better view as she lifted up her leg. Wanting to just get it over with, she moved into position as quickly as possible; there would have been no way to preserve any semblance of decency in any case.

She cringed as she imagined the view she was presenting, not even able to conceptualize a more abasing situation than being on display, on her hands and knees in front of all her coworkers, bare ass naked, legs parted and surely showing off her girl parts from behind and her mammoth breasts hanging down. Worse yet, she seemed to be getting more aroused by the minute.

Even Bob’s touch, as he grabbed each breast in a hand, squeezing them like he was milking a cow as he posed for his shot, felt good. She almost whimpered when he finally let go.

“Can I have another pose?” he asked.

“No. One per person.”

“But I had a great idea for one.”

“No. Let the next person have a go,” Rick said.

Instead, Bob turned to the next guy in line, Roger, and began talking softly to him. Roger grinned and walked up to me.

“Turn around,” he said.

It’s not easy to shift one hundred and eighty degrees while on your hands and knees on top of a small table, but she managed it, though not without having her legs much more splayed at times than she would have liked.

She needn’t have bothered trying to keep them together anyway, as the first thing that Roger did was have her separate her knees as much as she was physically able and still remain upright.

Dana knew that everything she had was once again on display to the camera and grimaced as she heard the artificial clicking of the digital shutter.

Then Roger did something she had not anticipated in the least. He spread her butt cheeks.

‘Now,’ she thought, ‘my humiliation is well and truly complete. What else can they do?’

Very quickly, she heard one last click, and Rick called out “next.”

Stan, from accounting, allowed her to stand back up and pose somewhat chastely with him.

The remaining guys copped feels of both her breasts and butt, but none showed quite the malice or creativity of Bob or his crony.

Soon, everyone had had their go, and Dana was surprised when Rick ended the picture taking without taking an opportunity to get one of his own taken with her.

Everyone was busy eating snacks while enjoying the entertainment, but they offered none to her. She didn’t think that she could have eaten anyway.

Rick sat down and called her over to him.

“Lay over my lap.”

Dana figured out immediately what he had in mind.

“You can’t. Not this, please. I haven’t been spanked since I was a little girl. Not in front of everyone. Please!”

“Now!” he said.

Not even knowing why she bothered considering how much of her the assemblage had already seen of her private parts, she tried her best to be ladylike, keeping her legs clenched together, as she bent over and balanced herself on his lap. She could feel his stiff manhood pressing against her stomach.

At first, she resisted the gentle pressure that he applied with the hand he wedged between her thighs. The force grew more and more insistent, however, and she soon relented, spreading her legs slightly.

Her action did not seem to satisfy Rick, though. He kept the tension tight until she was once again fully exposed.

She couldn’t help but notice most of the guys in the room moving to a vantage point behind her. Bob and Roger led the charge.

“Now,” Rick said, “ask me to spank you.”

Dana wanted to resist, to refuse to give in to his demands, but she was in a untenable predicament, naked in a room with no allies. Besides, she had agreed to do whatever he wanted.

“Will you spank me?”

“What? I couldn’t hear you.”

She spoke a bit louder.

“Will you spank me?”

“That doesn’t sound like you really want me to. It sounds like you’re asking me what I intend.”

She blushed, if possible, even redder.

“Please spank me.”

“Okay. I will. How many times?”

She sensed the danger in this question.

“Ten?”

“Is ten all you want? Really?”

She knew that this would continue until they reached the number that he had in mind and didn’t want to have to ask time and time again. On the other hand, she didn’t want to get more strokes than she absolutely had to. It was a fine line to walk.

“Please spank me twenty five times.”

She had never hated anyone more than she hated Rick at that moment. Not only was he forcing her to endure such abominable humiliations, he was making it sound like she was the one asking for it.

“Wow, twenty five. You must really like this. Okay, then.”

The bastard probably would have accepted twenty.

“Since I’m being so nice and giving you what you ask for,” Rick said, “make sure that you keep track of how many swats and thank me for each one.”

Before she could react, she felt a sharp jolt to her butt and heard a loud slap.

Though she knew it was about to happen, the reality of the situation startled her. Here she was, a grown, professional woman, getting an actual spanking, butt naked, in front of all her peers.

She wanted to die.

“I’m waiting,” he said.

Startled out of her musings, she tried to figure out what he wanted.

“Oh. Thank you for spanking me.”

Somehow, verbalizing her supposed gratitude for him degrading her was even more shameful than the act itself.

“You’re welcome. Unfortunately, I have no idea how many times I’ve hit you. I guess we’ll just have to start over.”

“One. One! It was one.”

“Sorry, too late,” he said, and she felt another swat.

“One. Thank you for spanking me.”

The next three followed in a similar manner with his right hand landing perpendicular to her butt crack. On the fifth stroke, however, he switched to his left hand and slapped her parallel to her body, though more between her legs than on her cheeks. Worse, his fingers lingered, grazing her sensitive areas lightly.

A low moan escaped her lips, adding to her already intense embarrassment. She almost forgot to count.

“Five. Thank you for spanking me,” she called out, interrupting him as he was about to speak.

He hit her with his right hand for the next four licks, though with a slightly higher degree of force than at the beginning. Whereas the first ones were more sound than fury, she felt these.

Those she supposed she should have expected it, he went back to the left hand for the tenth stroke. This time letting his hand stay in contact with her skin for several moments while his fingers actively teased her gaping, wet hole.

Another moan, this one not nearly as low, sounded from her mouth.

“Ten. Thank you for spanking me,” she said when the hand finally left its perch.

She wondered if anyone else thought that her gratitude sounded less forced.

The next five followed the same pattern. He delivered four even harder still across her backside. Those stung a bit, though not quite reaching a level she considered painful.

She found herself alternately dreading and anticipating the next in the series and couldn’t help but tense up as it landed.

The contact itself was more gentle caress than a stinging blow.

She felt her body betray her, splaying her legs even wider as the fingers crept down her butt towards her waiting sex.

She gasped as one of the fingers entered her.

It didn’t penetrate far, only about halfway up the fingernail, but the effect shot warm sparks of electricity from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. It circled inside her, making several complete revolutions before withdrawing.

She whimpered as it did.

“Fifteen. Thank you.”

She barely realized that she hadn’t specified why she was thanking him. It didn’t matter, though; everyone knew.

If the previous four right handed blows had bordered on pain, the next four crossed just over the line. It was the escalation of the next one that she feared, though.

This time, he brought his left hand into contact with the small of her back, abandoning all pretense of a hit. He slowly moved it downward, lightly brushing her tender skin.

With his palm cupping the underside of her buttocks, the fingers again went exploring. At the same time, she felt his right hand sliding between his leg and hers.

The fingers found their marks at the same time, with one again barely penetrating her from behind while the other massaged the folds of flesh on her front side.

Her breathing rate increased and several gasps burst from her sealed lips.

The fingers explored her for much longer this time, and she was on the very precipice of orgasm when their manipulation ceased.

Dana moaned in frustration.

“Twenty. Thank you for spanking me.”

The next four strokes were the hardest yet, and, by the time he reached number twenty four, she flinched before it landed.

She soon forgot the stinging in her backside, as other needs overwhelmed her senses in anticipation of the final spank.

Goosebumps formed on her legs and arms as he laid his left index finger on her neck and gently traced a line down to the small of her back. He flattened his hand and delicately caressed her wounded butt.

She shivered with expectation as the fingers journeyed downward once again, though noting with sadness that his right arm had not moved.

The fingers slowly wound their way over her butt cheeks and took a detour to her inner thighs, where they traced lazy circles before heading once again to their target.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of her audience.

The fingers continued their agonizing pace as she braced herself for the onslaught.

Surely, this time, the final time, they will penetrate her fully and give her relief. With her need so great, she gave no consideration to the people watching her but only to her desires.

Then, millimeters away from her unguarded sex, the fingers stopped.

She waited that way, impatient for him to continue, but he did not. Frustrated, she began squirming in his lap, pushing back until she made contact, impaling her soaking pussy on his outstretched digits.

It felt so good to have someone else’s skin inside her own, dousing the fire that had been building there all day.

She ground her hips around his stationary fingers, getting oh so close to cumming.

She didn’t know why, but she opened her eyes and saw the transfixed faces of her coworkers.

Suddenly, she realized what he did.

Not content with subjecting her to the embarrassment of being seen having an orgasm, he wanted it to obvious that she was getting herself off.

“Bastard!”

She rolled off his lap, wincing as her tender backside hit the floor, and scrambled to her feet. Without another word, she stormed out of the room.

End Part 7

Start Part 8

Dana didn’t turn around as she heard the restroom door open behind her. She clutched the tissues in her hand and tried to quiet her sobs.

“What are you doing? The party’s not over yet,” Rick said.

“Get out of here! This is the Ladies Room.”

“So, that’s it then. Giving up before you finish honoring your bet? I can see much your word is worth.”

“What did I ever do to you, anyway? Why do you hate me so much?”

His eyes narrowed, but he ignored the question.

If he was going to be angry with her, she’d return the favor.

“What did you expect? Really? That I’d stay there and take that. That I’d let you continue to degrade me?”

“I expected you to complete what you started. I expected that, if I told you to get up on that table and frig yourself like there’s no tomorrow with a giant dildo, you’d do what you were told!”

“Fine!”

She marched past him and didn’t bother to look behind her to see if he was following as she stalked to the conference room.

Ignoring the people milling around, she grabbed the huge purple dildo and climbed atop the table. Searching briefly, she found the knob on the end that started the vibrating feature and turned it on. She turned over an lay on her back, spreading her legs wide and pulling her flat feet back to almost touch her thighs.

If they wanted a show, she was going to give them a show.

Dana began by using her non-dildo wielding left hand to caress and tease her breasts and nipples. Moans of pleasure escaped her throat as she let her fingers wonder all over her stomach and thighs, returning frequently to squeeze and torment her sensitive globes. She combed through her downy hair in a circular pattern, getting ever closer to those ever so receptive bundles of nerve endings until finally grazing them and gasping.

She knew she could end it soon; one touch with the vibrating purple head would provide the release she craved. That would not be enough torment, enough punishment, for her. Feeling intensely the need to prolong the experience, she returned her attention to her erect nipples, pinching and taunting them, torturing herself mercilessly. She would not give in.

When the fire in the chest once more overwhelmed the sensations from her crotch, she slowly drug her hand down her taut stomach and through the sparse forest of curls, finally stopping over her engorged clit. Using the first and third fingers, she separated the folds of flesh, making it visible to her enraptured audience.

She flicked gently at first with her middle finger before committing to a more detailed exploration. She slowly traced each bend, each fold, each crevice with ever increasing pressure, resisting with all her will the building explosion within her, going right to the edge.

When she could take no more, she once again sketched random patterns all over her midsection and thighs with her fingernails, keeping up the tension while allowing herself to climb down from the precipice. Then it was time.

She heard a murmur from the crowd as she brought her right hand, with its colossal toy, into play. She wanted badly to run the pulsating tip over her aching slit, but that would end things immediately.

She could be patient now, for a few minutes longer anyway. She grasped the device with both hands and shoved it, panting heavily as it penetrated deep within her.

She wanted more. She strained her legs, using her toned muscles to separate her legs as far a possible, widening the gap just a little further.

She took all the arousal and frustration, all the humiliation, of the day and channeled it into this one moment.

In and out, she thrust the purple monstrosity, feeling the exquisite contact with her skin.

In and out, the vibrations traced a path of incomparable agony and pleasure.

In and out, holding off the detonation as long as possible.

Finally, she could contain it no longer.

Back arching, she screamed.

“Oh God!”

“Oh God!”

“Oh Rick!”

It wasn’t until the quakes wracking her body had subsided and she had removed the offending device from inside her that she had realized what she had yelled that last time. As the import of what had happened - reaching orgasm, masturbating, in front of her colleagues, crying out the name of her nemesis at the apex of cumming – hit her, she curled into a ball.

She felt cloth being thrown over her, and, after that, nothing.

End Part 8

Start Epilogue

She awoke to find herself laying in a bed in a strange room. From the faint light coming from around the shades drawn over the windows, she could tell that it was sparsely decorated. A stuffed deer head provided the only adornment to the walls, and there were no curtains to relieve the drabness of the dull beige.

She threw back the covers and found herself to be naked. There were no clothes lying around with the exception of a man’s white shirt draped over the back of a chair. She pulled it on and discovered that all the buttons were missing.

Drawing it close around her, she quietly padded through the open door into the hall which opened a short distance later into a large living area. All the windows were covered with either mini-blinds or shades, so she walked to the front door and cracked it.

She spotted the sun over what she assumed to be the eastern horizon, so she must have slept from yesterday afternoon until this morning. Trying to squash any thoughts about those dreadful events, she examined the surrounding area.

She was apparently in a small house in the a middle class suburban neighborhood, but that didn’t tell her whose it was. She shut the door and investigated the living room.

The rather austere ornamentation, the huge big screen television dominating the space, and the out of place gun safe told her that she was in the home of a bachelor. She kept looking for more clues until she finally spotted the unmistakable object of her derision, a distinctive black paintball rifle.

“Oh no! Anywhere but here. Please!”

She must have spoken louder than she intended because she immediately heard a noise in the back of the house.

A voice called out.

“Dana?”

Heavy footsteps drew closer and closer.

She clutched the shirt around her and turned toward the entrance to the hall.

“Are you okay?” Rick said as he finally appeared wearing only a pair of plaid boxers.

She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask that after what he did to her.

She glared at him.

“You have every right to feel that way. All I can say is that I’m sorry.”

That was the last thing she had expected him to say.

“You can have some of my old clothes, and I’ll take you home as soon as you want.”

He sat and buried his head in his hands.

“I have no excuse; I can’t believe that I behaved that way.”

He shook his head.

She didn’t want to engage him in conversation, so she focused her attention on the bookshelf beside her. It was full of trophies.

She looked closer. They were all paintball trophies. Apparently, he won awards for “Best Marksman” in several national competitions.

She turned away quickly. Admitting her own egregious stupidity wouldn’t help her hold on to the righteous anger she felt towards him.

“For some reason, your confidence in your own abilities always just rubbed me the wrong way, and, that day when you started giving me advice about paintball, I lost it. You thinking you knew more about that than me was the last straw, and I decided to do something about it.”

“Did you ever once consider that, maybe, I simply wanted to be part of the group, to find some sort of common ground, to fit in?” she asked.

“Jim told me that I should let it go. Then, I found myself agreeing with Bob. Then, Vern called me out on my actions, and still I wouldn’t listen. All I could think of was taking you down a few pegs. I thought I was justified.

“I refused to consider that I might have any other motive.”

Dana couldn’t help but listen raptly.

“Back in high school and college, I played all kinds of games with girls. I found that most of ‘em enjoy a little domination, some spanking. I was thinking ‘what’s the harm in it?’”

He swallowed.

“You know, though, there is a big difference between doing something with a willing participant either in private or in front of a small group of friends and humiliating someone in front of the people they work with.”

He looked at her.

“Like I said. No excuse. I would say, though, that that thing at the last. I never actually asked you to do that, and I wasn’t going to either.

“Still, I can see how you might have thought I did ask it, and I did nothing to stop it…”

He met her eyes.

“Not that any of the other stuff was appropriate either, but I wanted you to know that I wouldn’t have made you do that. I know that ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it…”

She wanted to let him wallow in his misery. He deserved it.

“I knew you weren’t asking me to,” Dana said.

He looked confused.

“There at the end. I knew you hadn’t actually asked me to do it.”

She swallowed.

“It’s just that I had gotten so close. When you offered me the opportunity to finally get release, I took it. And I think that some part of me wanted it to be in public.”

She couldn’t believe what she had admitted to him. He’d think she was a total slut.

Instead he got up and walked to her.

She had no idea what to expect.

Upon reaching her, he threw his arms around her and drew her into a big hug, and she buried her face in his massive bare chest.

When he finally released her, he asked “what now?”

“Do you want your shirt back?”

The End

loading