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Busted, I really ought to be more careful

Busted, I really ought to be more careful

There is a judicious blend of fact and fancy in this story but I hope the line between the two is su
I am sure wehave all to a greater or lesser extent, experienced the “Mid-Cycle-Madness”; you know, when you have the sort of itch that no matter how many times or with what intensity you scratch it, it simply does not go away. Of course the downside of that is, you know that within a week or so, God reminds us why we are special by visiting upon us the monthly curse.

I was at work, idly remembering a chat I had had that morning whilst on Lush – let’s call her Liz. She is perfectly delightful and so interested in exploring her sexuality. We had really had a wonderful time – but that’s not the focus of this story except inasmuch as she had set the scene for me for what was clearly going to be a long day of desperately needing to find relief. At a point in the morning I could take it no more and quietly walked from my office, past the intern who is allocated to assist me in drawing statistics which I then analyse, interpret and write reports on; reports which nobody reads or understands but God forbid I should ever drop any of the recipients from the distribution list. I digress. I made my way across the general office, out to the stairwell and down half a flight of steps to the “Ladies”. I was near running by the time I reached the door, so desperate was I to deal with my pleasure. There are three stalls along the one side and opposite them but somewhat off centre, three hand basins set in a granite top backed by ceiling-high mirrors. Relief, all of the stalls were empty. I silently thanked the God of Self-pleasure and scuttled into the middle stall, pushing the door closed behind me.

I wiggled out of my panties and stood legs astride the toilet bowl, leaning my head on my left forearm against the wall behind the toilet. I proceeded to take care of myself in a most unladylike but deliciously decadent way. I had been on the edge for some time, in fact since the earlier chat with Liz and then at my desk remembering every erotic detail of what she had said to me and how her words had affected me so it was not long before I felt the beginnings of my inexorable climb to ecstasy. My breathing was ragged, my knees weak and try as I might I could not suppress the moans; and then it hit me, a volcano-eruption of carnal pleasure from the depths of my being. I collapsed onto the toilet, still facing the wrong way, and sat there very aware of the near silent drip of my juices into the bowl below me. I was almost recovered when I heard a little voice from the stall next to mine asking, plaintively almost, “Are you alright?” FUCK! Who was that and when did she come in? In my commitment to self-indulgent pleasure I had not heard the door open nor any other sound but my own, and they were not pretty. I sat silently, hoping she would simply disappear, whoever “she” was. Eventually I could wait no longer because I had been away from my desk for so long somebody was bound to notice. I cleaned myself as best I could and slipped back into my panties. Thinking that “she” must have left, I opened the door and stepped out only to have her step out at the same time as me. Shit! Well the mystery was solved, it was my Intern and she had deliberately timed it so that she could see who the wanton hussy was. We now we stood facing each other, blushing madly and not able to say anything. I gave her a wan smile and stepped up to the basins to wash my hands and generally try to remove all evidence. As she turned to walk out of the bathroom, she very quietly said, almost unheard “It sounds as if you needed that, did you enjoy it?”

The rest of the day passed without incident apart from the fact that each time I looked up, Ella (the Intern) seemed to be watching me with a shy little smile and I remained mortified; embarrassed each time I walked past her desk, as I had to, in response to natures calling.

Some weeks passed and God’s reminder of my womanhood came and went. I had not forgotten the encounter with Ella, who could forget that, but had managed to chalk it up in the little black book of experience and leave it there. The only change in our day to day working relationship was that I noticed she became more friendly, her smile brightened and she seemed more, well sexy. She also strangely, appeared somewhat assertive which I found at once disconcerting and strangely exciting. Now I am not much into the whole dominant / submission thing except that I suppose I would be described as dominant given that I am a strong personality and do tend to take control in most aspects of my life and in particular in the bedroom. I have found that sex-partners seem to naturally defer to me and if the truth be known, this “power” is something of an aphrodisiac. It was particularly strange therefore to sense this assertiveness from Ella. Firstly she is my Intern and secondly, much as I find her very attractive I had never let my sexuality enter my work place. The last thing I needed in my life was some sort of sexual harassment claim.

It was a Friday, which is traditionally “casual day” at work. What this means essentially is that on Friday’s we need not wear traditional business attire but may wear more casual, comfortable clothes as long as they remain respectable. I was wearing a sundress with sandals, and rather cute little matching white lacy bra and panties. Ella was wearing jeans and white cotton button-down blouse with little floral embroidery detail on the collar, and boots. She looked very sexy in a country-girl sort of way. Ella is probably best described as petit. She has rich brown hair to mid back which she wears loose, or tied at her neck, and small breasts. Dark brown eyes which appear almost black in some moods and the most gorgeous, velvety skin which appears permanently tanned. Anyway….she came up to me about mid-morning and said to me “how is NPF going for you?”

I was a little taken aback “NPF….. What is NPF?”

“Don’t you know, NPF – No Panties Friday?”

WOW! That was the last thing I expected to hear from her. Anyway she then went on to say “Well…. are you?” This was rapidly getting out of hand but it was also unexpectedly exciting to be challenged in this way by her. I was wearing panties and told her so.

“Well I am not and so you shouldn’t be either” she said mischievously, her eyes twinkling. “I think if you really want to be a NPF girl, best you go and take them off. When you have, I want proof so you can bring them back and give them to me”.

The girl had lost her marbles for sure but holy shit! This was now more than a little exciting. Anyway, she teased me a bit more (it was a strangely quiet day anyway) and eventually persuaded me to leave my office and go to the loo to remove my panties. I took my panties off in a rather self-conscious sort of way as I realised there was the tiniest of wet patches in the crotch. Walking back to my desk I felt naked. I had never been without panties in the office, and was wearing what was really quite a flimsy sun dress. I went directly to my office where Ella soon joined me. I hesitated a moment but when I was sure nobody else was taking any notice, I presented them to her. She immediately looked at the crotch, looked at me, smiled and walked back to her desk. Nonplussed I stood looking at her thinking “Fuck it, two can play this game” so I called her back and told her I didn’t believe that she was not wearing any and told her I wanted proof. Ella didn’t say a word; she simply turned around, stuck out her bum and patted it cheekily. It was very clear there was no panty line under those jeans. The rest of the day passed without incident and at the end of the day, Ella breezily put her head in the door, said goodbye, and was gone before I realised she still had my panties. Fuck, I was going to have to go home like this and along the way I had to stop at the store for some groceries. This was embarrassing.

The next morning, I checked in online as usual and there was Liz. I always smiled when I saw her name pop up and felt an amazing peace knowing she was sharing my life with me, albeit across cyberspace. Liz and I were both feeling particularly frisky and it wasn’t long before we were enjoying an intensely powerful orgasm together during which she had she told me, squirted. One of the joys of playing with Liz is the unconditional love that allows her to really push her limits and explore unchartered territory but usually, it is I that is pushing her to new limits. We had recently got into discussing the subject of pee which held a strange fascination for her, and for me. It always thrilled me that she could talk so openly about what excited her. We giggled a bit about her having to change her linen before her husband came to bed and I told her I had already showered but would have to go and clean up again. At this point she unexpectedly said “No, I don’t want you to clean up. I want you to go to work as you are so that your stickiness will remind you of me”. I was a little surprised and replied “Ok but then I must at least wear clean panties”. Again she said “No, I don’t want you to wear panties. You may take them in your bag in case you have an important meeting but otherwise….” She left the rest of the sentence unsaid. We chatted about this a little more and it was clear that she was quite serious and further, that I was to write to her later in the day to tell her what had happened, how I had felt. It was also clear there was little room for negotiation. Gosh I was actually feeling a new tingle at the prospect.

What is it with the girls in my life that they are suddenly becoming assertive and telling me what to do, including not wearing panties? Whilst I am sexually quite adventurous and have been known to do things in public that I shouldn’t do, I am fundamentally quite modest and in particular, at work. Anyway, she had secured a promise from me so I was going to go ahead with the little game. I did however secure at least one compromise and that was that I could clean my thighs but had to leave the stickiness around my pussy.

I was self-conscious when I got to work, convinced of course that everybody could smell the evidence of my early morning pleasure and worse, had X-ray vision so they knew I was not wearing panties.

The day started normally enough but I could not ignore the state I was in. Ella was giving me strange looks and that only made things worse. Around mid-morning I was in the filing room looking for a document that had some information that was vital to an analysis I was busy with. Ella was busy with some research so I had not, as would normally be the case, asked her to pull the document out for me. Most filing follows a logic known only to the one who controls the filing so I was struggling to find what I was looking for and becoming increasingly irritable. At a point I slammed the metal drawer of filing cabinet closed and in the process caught the tip of my finger. “FUCKING SHIT BITCH” I swore as I hopped around sucking my finger, eyes watering from the sharp pain. I stopped my tirade and leaned against the filing cabinet to recover my composure when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ella. She was standing just inside the door looking at me with a strange expression, not angry but disapproving. I blushed and was about to make it all her fault that I could not find what I was looking for and that I had near-amputated my finger in the drawer of the filing cabinet when she said in a very quiet but firm voice “Sarah, that is not the way a lady should talk and not the way a Team Leader should behave in front of her young Intern.”

Holy Fuck! I did not need this. I could feel the irritation rapidly heading towards anger. Ella stepped further into the filing room and closed the door behind her. She was stood directly in front of me, looking at me with this strange expression that I could not interpret. “You have been very naughty, firstly in messing up my files and secondly in using that foul language. What am I to do with you? Have you been a naughty girl?” I was completely off guard; this was not my comfort zone. Here was my junior Intern, a person so low down on the food chain of office hierarchy that she barely registers, acting like a school teacher and it was making me squirm – an unfamiliar sensation but not entirely unpleasant.

“Sarah! I asked if you have been a naughty girl”

Shit, I could feel my confidence crumbling and I was blushing, nervous. “”Well no, I should have asked you for the file and I’m…….” I never got to finish.

“I know but I am not talking about that – you are looking as guilty as hell, the way you were when I saw you after you did it in the loo that day. Hmmm I wonder if you are wearing panties”. FUCK! Is there no limit to this girl’s powers of observation? She had brought me coffee when I arrived at work so maybe she had smelled the lingering scent of my arousal, or she was simply taking a chance. As for the no panties – of course, she’s a NPF Girl; she will notice the absence of a panty line. BITCH! My mind was racing, remembering how Liz had firmly told me how she wanted me not to clean myself, how I was not to wear panties… and how that behaviour had excited me…. But that was Liz; of course it would excite me. And then I remembered how Ella had “caught” me masturbating in the ladies loo and when I had stepped out of the stall she had been close enough to me that she would have got my scent. This day was rapidly spiralling out of control and she was still looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer her question. By now I had my back to the filing cabinet and she was standing facing me, my finger was still aching and I was blushing. I took a chance “Ella, I am sorry you heard me swearing like that. It was unprofessional”.

“No you shouldn’t. Here, let me look at that finger”. With that she took my hand gently, looked at my finger and kissed the nail. The skin was not broken but already the bruise was starting to appear under my nail. Shit, by the morning my nail would be black. It felt nice having her hold my hand and now she was lightly sucking the tip of my finger. I was just starting to relax and gather my composure when she dropped my hand, stepped back, looked me in the eye and asked again, this time more sternly “Have you been a naughty girl?” My eyes were downcast, I didn’t know what I was going to say or do. The balance of power was shifting and I was aware of renewed tingles in my privates. “Sarah…. Lift you skirt and show me”. Holy fuck was she insane. I simply stared at her but became ever more aroused which scared the shit out of me.

She tapped her foot impatiently.

“I am waiting…..”

“Fuck it” I thought, “So what harm can come of this little game”. I lifted my skirt, exposing my nakedness but not daring to look at her, or down at my bare pussy. I knew my labia would be red, puffy from my early morning playing while chatting to Liz; I only hoped I was not too obviously wet.

“I see you have been a naughty girl” said the now stern looking Ella. “Now tell me what you were doing to yourself”. I was powerless. My self-confidence had gone out the window. I was a little girl standing in the Principles office explaining why I had not done my homework. I was shaking but well aware now that I was under her spell, and it was exciting me. I suspect she sensed the change because her expression softened.

“Sarah” she whispered. “Show me what you were doing. I want to watch you”. Ella’s eyes were fixed on mine. In a trance I started to lightly rub between my engorged labia, my left hand holding up my skirt, legs apart, leaning against the filing cabinet. Ella stood, transfixed, her eyes alternately fixed on my eyes, or watching my fingers. I could not help it, I heard myself moaning. My breathing was ragged and I could feel my orgasm mounting. There was something about the humiliation of what I was doing and who I was doing it for, that was exciting me in ways I never knew were possible; yet at once I was embarrassed, even scared of what was happening.

Ella licked her lips, eyes now focussed on my fingers but otherwise showing no expression or reaction to what was happening; she was near impassive. I could not say the same for myself. My legs were in danger of giving way; a steam train was rolling in and it was about to collide with me. I couldn’t breathe; the sounds in the room were all mine when, as if from nowhere, that train hit me. Hips convulsed, knees giving way….

My next awareness was of Ella whispering something. She was holding me up and I was in a cold sweat. When she was sure I was not going to fall to the floor she told me to straighten skirt and go to the loo to clean up. With that she looked at me, said “Good girl” and walked out…..

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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