Skirt Day

21: A Long Day

Lisa stumbles quickly into Joan's office.  Joan is waiting behind
her desk, reviewing paperwork.

"Sorry I'm late," says Lisa, panting, looking at the clock on the
wall.  Nearly 35 minutes late to her hour-long session, she sits
exhausted onto the couch.  Her white pleated skirt flares out
beneath her.

"It happens," says Joan, as she closes the folder of papers.  "You
look exhausted.  Long day?"

Lisa thinks back.  Yes, a very, very long day, and she nods.  It is
only late afternoon and she feels completely spent.  There is no way
I'm going back to work today, she thinks.  But she is not sure what
to say to Joan.

"Want to tell me about it?" Joan asks.

Where do I begin? thinks Lisa.  "Well," she says, "today I met some
of the board of directors of my company, at a golf outing, in a move
to get a promotion."

"Ah, sounds like a big day.  Were you nervous?"

Lisa thinks to herself: well, I was a little nervous about the fact
that my nipples were obvious through my shirt, constantly engorged
by the little rubber bands pinching them all day, adding to the
attention to my breasts bouncing unfettered by undergarments.  I was
a little more nervous about the feeling of having a plug in my ass
all day, reminding me of its presence every step I took.  And the
vibrating egg inside my pussy didn't help one bit.  This is what she
thinks, but she says: "yeah, a little bit.  A little nervous."

"But this is a big day for you.  You must have realized how far
you've come in so short a time when you shook hands with the big
executives of your company."

Actually, she thinks, I felt like I was being fucked in public.  The
combination of the egg vibrating all of a sudden with the butt plug
were sensations I had never experienced, and to be receiving them
while shaking hands with the most important people in my career
almost made me faint. But . . . "I just smiled, and said 'pleased to
meet you,' and they seemed very nice.  Yes, I felt that I had come a
very long way."

"Do you golf regularly?"

"No, in fact, I never had.  But Bill and Tony and Jim -- those are
the directors -- they gave me lessons."  What she does not say is
how personal those lessons got, with Bill's arms stretched around
her, showing her how to swing the golf club, while her plugged ass
behind her pleated skirt was shoved into his crotch.  She wonders if
he could feel the vibrations that always seemed to start from that
damned egg when a ``lesson" occurred.  She wonders if, in fact, Bill
was causing them to happen.  And most of all, she wonders if he
knew that when she felt his crotch push the plug up her ass just a
little fuller, on the third such lesson, making internal contact
with the buzzing egg, that the sensation made her come -- that right
there in the middle of the fairway, with Tony and Jim watching from
the bench, she had the orgasm she had been waiting for for days. She
knows she made a small moan, unable to fully contain herself, but
Bill continued to show her how to swing the club as if nothing
happened, and she pretended all was normal as well.

"So, what do you think?" asks Joan,  "Did you impress them?"

"Well," she said, "I think I made an impression on them."  She
thinks: Bill must have known, there is no way he didn't feel her
body shudder or hear her stifled moan of ecstacy.  What must he
think?  Lisa sat silent for a moment, not sure what to say.  "Joan,
what do you think of my outfit?"

Joan looked her over.  "It looks like a fine outfit to play golf in.
I like that skirt, it's very retro.  But Lisa, are you wearing a
bra?"

Lisa looked down at her breasts.  "No.  Can you tell?"

"Yeah, I can tell.  This is how you were dressed during the outing?"

Well no, not exactly, thinks Lisa.  If you could tell I'm not
wearing a bra now, then how must it have looked when there were
rubber bands keeping my nipples erect?  I must have looked like such
a slut, and I sure felt like one.

"It was, yes.  I guess I got dressed too quickly this morning.  Is
it that bad?"

"No, I don't think so," said Joan.  "My opinion is that a woman
should not have to dress to hide herself in order to be taken
seriously.  Do you agree?"

"I suppose."

"I note in particular that you're wearing a skirt.  Are you still
playing that game with skirts we've been discussing?"

"Yeah, well, about that, I wanted to discuss with you. I think it's
gone too far, I wanted to know what you think."

"Too far?  In what way?"

"You said I should try getting permission to, well, give myself
pleasure, when wearing a skirt, and I said I'd try it, and I've been
good.  But, well, it may be too much, I mean, it's very awkward to
ask someone for permission, and what if that person takes advantage
of me?"

"Lisa, last week you were in a panic because someone saw you
touching yourself in the woman's bathroom.  This told me you had
some severe guilt issues.  I just want to work through those.  I
want you to have someone who you can trust tell you it's okay.  You
can call me any time.  Do you have another friend you can trust to
discuss this with?"

Lisa considered it.  "Well, my friend Christie is coming into town.
I've always trusted her."

"Good, I want you to tell her about this arrangement.  I think
you'll find that if you just discuss your issues, and if she makes
you feel like you're allowed to do these things, you'll be a lot
happier.  You'll probably find that she has very similar feelings."

"Okay, I suppose.  But it's not just that.  I mean, this whole skirt
thing has gone too far in other ways.  I've been meaning to tell you
about it, but it's kind of embarrassing."

"Well how about we start there next week?  I'm afraid I have another
appointment."

Lisa looks at the clock. "Uh, okay, next week then, I'll try not to
be late."

As Lisa walks out of Joan's building, she feels a little empty.  Not
emotionally empty, but physically so.  The butt plug and egg she had
been wearing all day were gone now, removed by Cheryl when she
returned from golf, and the simple experience of walking felt very
different without them.  Although she had orgasmed earlier in the
day, it did not take long for the feeling of the periodically
vibrating egg, the plug, and her pinched nipples scratching against
her shirt to turn her on again, and she secretly hoped that another
lesson would push her over the edge to give her another orgasm.  She
got very close, but all too soon they were at hole 18, and the group
disbanded, needing to get back to work.

On the ride back Jim had said he thought she did well.  "You seemed
nervous," he had said, "that's not like you."

Lisa squirmed a little, as sitting down in the passenger seat made
the plug delve deeper into her now sensitive insides.  "Well," she
said, shifting in her seat,"I guess I was nervous.  How do you think
it went?"

"If I know Bill and Tony," he said, "I think they'll agree to the
promotion.  But this might not be the last golf outing you're
invited to, so you might want to get more lessons."

Lisa remembers squirming all the way home, wondering if there would
be more days like this and whether she would enjoy it or not.  She
remembers not knowing whether she wanted the plug to remain in her
ass or not, and feeling a combination of pleasure and pain as Cheryl
pulled it from her ass later in the day, in the ladies room, as she
told Cheryl all that had happened. Part of her wanted Cheryl to put
it right back in.

Lisa had been worried that Cheryl would disapprove of her orgasm,
and considered keeping it secret from her, but decided against it.
She was delighted that Cheryl seemed, if anything, pleased.  "My
my," Cheryl had teased, "having an orgasm in the middle of a
prestigious golf club.  How naughty you are!"  Lisa remembers trying
to take advantage of her delight to get permission for another, much
needed orgasm, but Cheryl indicated that one a day should be enough
for now, and that there would be ample opportunity at the party
tomorrow.

The party!  Lisa is worried and excited at the same time.  Cheryl
had mentioned a party "in her honor."  Not knowing what to expect,
she wonders if she can try to guess.

So as Lisa walks back to the subway, her white pleated skirt
swishing around her thighs, she feels empty, wishing for another
opportunity to try out the butt plug, the egg, and for another golf
lesson, and the thoughts keep her panties damp, which she feels as
the air circulates under her skirt.  But she decides to be good, and
returns home.

That night, while eating a small microwave meal, she turns on her
computer.  She had heard vaguely of butt plugs and vibrating eggs
and such, but had never considered that these things were real, and
never imagined one inside of her.  Although embarrassed, she thinks
of the orgasm fondly, and finds herself hoping for a similar
experience at this party.  Anxious, she decides to investigate the
possibilities of what might happen with a little online research.

Not certain where to begin, she runs a Google search on "sex toys."
She had not even seen the objects Cheryl had inserted into her that
morning, and when finally a picture of a butt plug appears on the
screen, she knows by tactile familiarity that this is the correct
object.

She continues to read:
   * Anal beads consist of a string of beads which is inserted into
the anus and then slowly pulled out to provide a very satisfying
stimulation, often at the moment of orgasm, in order to enhance the
strength of the orgasm in both men and women.
   * Butt plugs are devices that are inserted in the anus, typically
to stimulate the prostate gland for pleasure. They should have a
flared end to
prevent the device from being lost inside the body.
   * An electrode is used in erotic electrostimulation to apply
electricity to various parts of the body for sexual gratification. A
stainless steel urethral sound may be used as such an electrode when
connected to electrostimulation equipment.
   * G Spot sex toys are dildos or vibrators that are designed,
usually with a curved or hooked end, to hit the G Spot
   * Fucking machines are mechanical devices used to simulate
penetrative intercourse, usually, but not always, requiring electric
or gas power to function.
   * Sexual lubricants are lubricants used to facilitate anal or
vaginal sex, or as an aid to masturbation.
   * A strap-on dildo and harness, generally strapped to the groin
and hips, allows a person to penetrate a partner as if the dildo were
the penetrator's own penis. In particular, they allow a woman to
penetrate a man anally, referred to as pegging, or another woman
vaginally or anally. They may also be used by impotent men to allow
them to penetrate their partner; strap-on dildos used this way are
generally hollow, rather than solid.
   * Sybian is the brand name of a combination of a saddle-shaped
mount with a vibrator built onto it.
   * Sex dolls more commonly known as "blow up dolls," are imitations
of the human form intended for simulation of some sexual acts. They
may consist of a representation of a face, the buttocks, genital
areas, or the entire body. Most sex dolls are inflatable. Love
pillows, especially popular in Japan, are inflatable pillows with a
life-size picture of a porn star or anime character and optionally a
hole for penetration. More expensive realistic sex dolls exist, such
as the Realdoll, the cost of which runs into several thousand dollars.
   * Nipple clamps are a family of tools which apply pressure to the
nipples. They are often used as BDSM toys or torture devices. Some of
them can also provide constant, intense nipple stimulation and
heightened sensitivity.
   * Sex Games are usually like traditional board or card games but
their terminology, content and objectives are sexually oriented.

Each object generates a small fantasy in Lisa's mind.  She continues
to peruse the web, even filling an online shopping cart full of
toys.  When the total comes up to over $2000, she thinks to
herself, What am I doing?  She clicks cancel and looks at the time:
she has been online for hours.

Exhausted, she shuts down her computer, brushes her teeth, and
changes into her pajamas.  Thinking of what Cheryl might do to her
at the party, she must use all her will power not to masturbate as
she drifts to sleep.

Preparing for the Party

Lisa allowed herself to sleep in on Saturday morning, knowing that
Cheryl had a long, possibly humiliating day in store for her.  After
waking and showering, she poured herself a bowl of cereal and
silently ate while thinking about her day.

Cheryl is going to humiliate me, she thought.  Lisa knew that they
would go shopping, that she'd be forced to wear some incredibly
skimpy party dress, and that the people at this party would probably
fondle her and grope her.  The thought is not unwelcome, Lisa
realized.  She absent-mindedly stroked her pussy beneath her
bathrobe and could feel that she had become quite moist in
anticipation.

Why not, she thought, why not just enjoy it?  She made a resolution:
accept the inevitable.

Her resolution made, she goes to her bedroom to choose her clothing.
Feeling naughty, she flips through her skirts, choosing the short
black pleated skirt that Steve got her.  She knows that every time
she takes a step this skirt swishes around exposing her panties, but
it is what Cheryl would expect.  Removing her bathrobe, she pulls
the skirt on and remembers how high it sits on her thighs.  She digs
in her dresser for some panties and, knowing that they will likely
be seen under her skirt, does not find any that she likes.

This is not acceptable, she thinks, as she throws piles of underwear
around her apartment.  What will I wear under this skirt?  The
large, white cotton panties that had been her staple comfort wear
under her work clothing just seemed wrong for this occasion.  She
thinks of wearing the red thong Cheryl had picked out for her, but
she had not laundered it, and she remembered just how wet it had
gotten.

The thought of going commando occurs to her, but a quick glance in
the mirror makes her worry about getting arrested.  Still, she
remembers how it felt to be in her office in Yuki's skirt, which was
just as short as this one, without any panties.  It felt free, and
arousing.

"I'll just go buy some new panties, I have time," she says aloud to
no one in particular.  Feeling spontaneous, she grabs a white
tee-shirt and pulls it over her naked breasts, slips into a pair of
her brown work shoes, grabs her purse, and walks to her car.  She
starts the ignition and begins driving to the closest strip mall.

When she pulls in the parking lot, she realizes that she still isn't
wearing any panties.  With her skirt as short and as pleated as it
was, her danger of showing everything to the world is very high.
"What am I doing?" she asks herself, noticing now that as she sits
in her car planning her next move she is still absent-mindedly
rubbing her bare pussy, which is now quite wet.

She forces herself to stop and opens her car door.  She carefully
slides out of the car, taking care to hold her skirt down, and then
slams the door.

Fortunately, the weather is warm and sunny, with only a light breeze
tickling the hem of her short skirt.  As she walks to the store, she
notices her breasts, unfettered by a bra, bounce beneath her
tee-shirt.  Cheryl would be proud, she thinks.

She walks into the store and heads straight for the lingerie.  Not
many people are shopping at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, but enough
people are milling around the store to make her self-conscious in
her revealing outfit.

She picks out a few pairs of panties, mostly thongs in the style
Cheryl had chosen for her a few days before.  In particular, a black
thong she chooses should go well under the skirt she is wearing.
She is tempted to put it on to hide her wet, naked sex, but she
knows she must pay for it first.  She is about to take her pile of
panties to the express check-out lane, when she spies a rack of
camisoles much like the one she had bought with Cheryl.  She decides
to buy more of those as well.  All in silk and in many colors, she
picks up a large variety.

Now she has so many pairs of panties and so many camis that she can
barely hold them all.  She walks back to the front of the store, her
skirt swishing around her upper thighs, and finds a basket to put
them in.

On her way, she passes the shoe department, and sees a very fetching
pair of black heels that would go much better with her skirt than
the brown work shoes she was currently wearing.  Basket in hand, she
walks back to the shoes and picks one up from the rack.  They have a
4 inch heel, seeming a bit high for her, but the curve of the shoe
and the silvery straps look beautiful to her.  As she is admiring
it, a salesman steps out of the back room and sees her, and asks
"Can I help you?  Would you like to see those in your size?"

Lisa, having been momentarily hypnotized by the shoes, looks up at
the salesman.  A young boy, really, probably only 19 years old, and
he appears to be looking her up and down.  She takes stock: she's
holding a shoe in one hand, and in the other a basket full of thong
panties and silky camisoles, and she realizes again that her panties
are still in the basket and not on her crotch!  "Miss?  Hello?"

"Oh, um, sure," she says, "sure, size 8 1/2 please."

"You got it" says the boy as he disappears into the back room.  Lisa
sets down the shoe and puts her shopping basket on the linoleum
floor.  What have I done, she thinks?  She remembers the last time
she did this, buying shoes with such a short skirt and no panties.
What must the salesperson think?  And now, here she is, doing it by
herself with no one forcing her.  What have I become?

The boy comes back and hands her the box.  "Here ya go, size 8 1/2,"
he says, and Lisa takes the box.  A moment of silence ensues.

"Um," says Lisa, looking down at the blue shoe box, "aren't you
going to help me try them on?"

"Sure," he says, and gestures Lisa to sit.  She does so, noting that
her pleated black skirt rides high on her thighs, and that even with
her legs together he can probably see her pussy.  "Let's start with
the right" he says, as he kneels and holds her bare calf.  He opens
the box and slips the right shoe onto her foot, looking at her
thighs as he does so.  "And now the left."

Did he see it, she wonders? Did he see how wet it is? With both
shoes in place, Lisa stands and walks around, and finds that the
shoes fit quite well, and are reasonably comfortable despite the
rather challenging heel.  She sees the boy looking at her, and can
feel the hot arousal between her legs.  She realizes that she loves
this.

"Okay, they're great, I'll take them," she says, thinking that he
can probably see up her skirt from his kneeling position even as she
stands.

"Can I ring up all your items?" he asks, and she says yes, takes her
basket and walks to the register in her new shoes.

As he scans the shoebox and the pricetags on the undergarments, she
gathers her courage and asks him, "Do you mind my asking, could you
see up my skirt back there?"

The boy blushes and shakes his head.  "No Miss.  I mean, I wasn't
looking.  Um, that will be 86 dollars and 14 cents.  Would you like
to open a credit account?"

Lisa found his embarrassment a little annoying, and decided to push
him.  "Really, you weren't looking?  What color were my panties?"

"Your panties?"

"Yes, what color were they?  The ones I'm wearing?"

"Um, I didn't think you were, I mean . . ."

"Ha.  I knew you were looking," she said.  "Do you have a pair of
scissors?"

He digs around behind the counter, and finds some scissors.  Lisa
takes them and cuts the tag off the black thong.  "Excuse me a
moment" she says as she steps into the thong and pulls it up her
naked legs.  "There, much better.  Now, how much did I owe you?"

After paying and returning to her car, Lisa sits for a moment and
thinks about what just happened.  Cheryl would be proud, she
thinks, and the thought pleases her.  Still, she wasn't sure what
had gotten into her.  What would people think of her, flashing
herself to teenage salesclerks in shoe stores?  I shouldn't do that
again, she thinks, as she starts the car, suspecting that someday
she just might.

Back at home, she looks at herself in the mirror again, this time
sitting on the bed.  The shiny material of her new black thong is
evident between her legs, giving her little doubt as to what the
sales boy must have seen.  Further, her hard nipples were clear
under her tee-shirt.

"That's just indecent" she says aloud, as she strips off the
tee-shirt and finds a white cotton bra.

Later that afternoon, she hears a knock on the door.  Wearing her
black pleated skirt, shiny black thong panties, a white cotton bra
and a white tee-shirt, she goes to the door.  Cheryl is there.

"Well," says Cheryl, "are you ready to go shopping?"

"I started without you, Cheryl!  Come in, and look at my new shoes."

Lisa puts on her new black heels and models them for Cheryl.  Cheryl
smirks and looks Lisa up and down.

"Tell me, Lisa, did you buy those shoes wearing that outfit?"

Lisa blushes.  "Well, not exactly.  I wasn't wearing any underwear,
then."

Cheryl's smirk grows to a grin.  "So after all the fuss you put up
about our visit to the shoe store, you went and did the same thing
by yourself, didn't you?"

Lisa nods.

"I knew you were a slut," says Cheryl.  "Come on, we need to find
you a proper dress for tonight."

Cheryl and Lisa go to Cheryl's call and begin driving to an upscale
mall some distance away.  In the car, Lisa asks about the party.
"Where is this party again?  Who is going to be there?  What kind of
dress are we looking for?"

"I told you before," said Cheryl.  "This party is at Martin's house.
Martin is a friend of mine and he has a huge house north of here.
When I told him about you he was kind enough to offer his beautiful
home for a party.  I expect you to thank him for that."

All kinds of fantasies began to swirl in Lisa's mind.  Martin, huh?
She imagines that he is tall, and handsome, and suspects that he
will tie her to a large, four-poster bed . . . she can feel her
panties get positively wet.  Yes, accept the inevitable, she thinks.
"I will thank him," says Lisa.  "I suppose I should get a hot dress
for him."

"Oh?" asks Cheryl, somewhat mockingly, "I didn't think you the type
for too hot a dress.  You've always been pretty conservative at
company parties!"

"Well, this isn't a company party, is it?  And if I know you,
Cheryl, you won't let me get anything that doesn't make me look like
a . . . "

" . . .a what?" prods Cheryl.

". . . a tart."

Cheryl laughs as she pulls into the parking structure.  "Okay," she
says, "I'll make a deal with you.  If you choose a dress that I
think is 'tarty' enough, I'll let you wear panties.  You seemed to
enjoy a similar game with Steve."

Accepting the inevitable, Lisa puts out her hand for a handshake,
resolved to find the hottest dress she could.

And she didn't have to search long.  She went straight to a store
known for racy evening wear, and scanned the shelves for the
smallest pieces of material she could find.  Cheryl kept her
distance, keeping her hands behind her back and only slightly
raising her eyebrows when Lisa showed her each dress she pulled off
the rack.

Three dresses made it to the dressing room with her while Cheryl
waited outside.  The first she tried was black, tight, and extended
only to mid thigh.  However, it had thick black straps and covered
her breasts more than she thought Cheryl would like.  The second was
white, low cut, and almost transparent, but the skirt fell nearly to
her knees.

The third dress she tried was the ticket.  Silky, shiny black and
extremely short, it exposed all of her long legs, just barely hiding
her panties by only a few inches.  This was what first made her
think Cheryl would like it.  But when she put it on, she discovered
that the halter style top left her back completely exposed, all the
way down to the top of the curves of her ass.  The back of the dress
was a small band of material that just covered her behind.  There
was no way she could wear a bra, and the silky material clinging
tightly to her breasts did little to hide the shape of her now erect
nipples.

As she looked in the mirror, Lisa thought that only a few inches was
an awfully small amount of material to hide her assets from the
world, but then she remembered to accept the inevitable.  This was
the sexiest, most revealing dress she had ever worn -- or even the
most revealing she had ever seen.  Could she really wear this at a
party?  A party with people she has never met?  Looking over her
shoulder at the back of the dress, she realized she was nearly
naked.  Worse than naked -- wearing a dress that oozed sex, that
clearly labelled the person wearing it as . . .

"How's it going in there?" shouted Cheryl from outside the dressing
room.  Lisa thought she seemed impatient.

"Uh, I think I've found it.  I don't think there's any doubt I'll
have won my panties with this one."

"Well come on out and let me see!"

Lisa could hear the drone of shoppers in the store, including
couples with their teenaged children.  She looked at herself in the
mirror again, and realized that while she might have agreed to
herself to let Cheryl have her way, she couldn't put on the show she
knew she would put on in so public a place.  So she shouted back
"Can we wait until the party?  I want to surprise you!"

A silence followed.  Lisa could hear her own heart beat.  Her
confidence was failing as she stood half naked in the mall.  Don't
make me go out there, Cheryl.

"Okay," she said.  "Put your little black skirt back on.  We'll get
you some new makeup and get out of here."

And so Lisa changed back into her skirt and tee shirt, which exposed
her legs, as well as her bare ass and panties with every step.
Seeing herself in the mirror reminded her just how much was exposed,
and that reminder increased her self-consciousness from what it had
been before they arrived.  She found herself tugging at her skirt
and doing what little she could to hide her panties as Cheryl took
Lisa to the make-up section of a nearby department store for a full,
"tarty" makeover.  The make-up, once complete, emphasized Lisa's
lips like she had never seen them before, and darkened her eyes to a
degree that did not look like herself.  Her first reaction was one
of self-consciousness, but her second was one of security.  The
person in the mirror didn't really look like Lisa -- it was a new
person, a different person, a sexy, fun person.  Cheryl said it
looked great, and Lisa surprised herself by saying, "Yes, it looks
fabulous.  Thank you!"

On the car ride to Martin's, which was well over an hour's drive
away, Lisa was surprised to have a fairly normal conversation with
Cheryl, mostly about work, but also about recent movies and favorite
books.  As a result Lisa was feeling quite at ease, and barely
noticed her exposed legs.  Then Cheryl asked, "So, how are you
feeling about this party?"

"You know," said Lisa, "I'm actually really looking forward to it.
I mean, I think it might be a lot of fun."

"Really?" said Cheryl, "even though you're either going to wear a
slutty dress or no panties?  Even though you're wearing more make-up
then you've ever worn before?  What do you think is going to
happen?"

"Well, you've been pretty secretive, but I actually have a guess.  I
think that Martin is an experienced 'dom,' well accustomed to 'the
lifestyle,' and he's going to invite a whole bunch of his other
friends over, who are also into 'the lifestyle.'"

"The 'lifestyle?'  What lifestyle is that?"

"You know, BDSM."

Cheryl laughed.  "Lisa, do you even know what that stands for?"

"Of course I do!  How naive do you think I am?  And I imagine that
these people are going to tie me down, and they are going to use all
matter of toys and gadgets on me, and I don't think I can avoid the
fact that they might even have sex with me."

Cheryl glanced away from the road to look at Lisa's face, which had
a large, nervous smile on it.

"Is that what you think?"

Lisa nodded.  "I do.  I was doing some reading last night.  It was
the toys at the golf game that really got me thinking as to what you
were going to do with your newfound control over me.  You don't want
the promotion or money or anything . . . you just want to humiliate
me sexually.  And I decided that I have no choice but to play along.
So that's what I'm doing.  Just wait until you see the dress.
You'll love it."

Cheryl shook her head as she watched the now twisty, hilly road.
"It sounds like you've got it all figured out, Lisa."

Lisa watched the road as well.  Am I really ready to have sex with
strangers tonight?  The warmth inside her panties suggested to
her . . . yes, yes I am.

23: The Party

Martin's house stood on a large hill, on a large tract of forested
land.  The gate to the brick driveway featured brass-trimmed black
bars, and the driveway curved around a beautiful flower garden.  As
Cheryl drove her car to the front door, Lisa thought that this
mansion looked like a hotel or an embassy, and could barely believe
it was someone's home.  "Wow," she said, "what does Martin do?"

"He does many things, but mostly just spends his money these days."

She pulled up to the door and parked the car.  Lisa gathered her new
dress, wrapped in a plastic garment bag, and followed Cheryl to the
door.  Cheryl knocked on the ornate, gargoyle brass knocker, and
smiled at Lisa.  "Now, Lisa, whatever assumptions you may have about
Martin, please be open minded.  Okay?"

Lisa nodded just as the door opened.  On the other side, a young
woman in a maid's outfit greeted them.  Remembering her reading from
the night before, Lisa looked for the revealing bodice, the short
skirt revealing the tops of nylon stockings, and impossibly high
heels.  But to her surprise the maid's dress was quite conservative,
with a high neckline,  a skirt falling mid-calf, and sensible shoes.

"You must be Cheryl and Lisa."  Lisa could see the maid looking at
her up and down, and suddenly her short black skirt felt much more
revealing.  "Martin is expecting you.  Please come in."

As they walked in, a tall, thin man in a brown suit with grey hair
approached with arms outstretched.  "Ah, Cheryl, welcome back!"  He
walked to Cheryl, put his hands on each of her shoulders and kissed
each cheek.

"Always a pleasure, Martin!  And this is my coworker Lisa, the guest
of honor tonight."

Martin extended his hand and Lisa shook it.  "Pleased to meet you. I
imagine I have some stories to hear from you!  Well, please step in
to the salon, have a seat, we'll have Martha bring us some drinks.
The house is just about ready for the party tonight."

The salon was huge; the velvet-cushioned oak furniture seemed too
fancy to sit on, and suddenly Lisa felt underdressed in her short
pleated skirt and tee-shirt.  The maid took Lisa's plastic-wrapped
dress, followed them in and asked for drinks.  Lisa ordered a
martini; not her favorite drink but somehow it seemed the
appropriate one to ask for.  Martha disappeared.

Cheryl and Martin chatted for some time about the weather and the
drive in, while Lisa sat quietly, occasionally adjusting her skirt
which sat very high on her naked thighs as she sat.  When Martha
brought drinks, Lisa sipped her martini and began feeling a little
tipsy, but no less self-conscious. After some time, Cheryl seemed to
notice Lisa's discomfort. "Martin, Lisa has just bought a new dress
for the party tonight and I haven't gotten a chance to see it yet. I
think she should change into it now, don't you?"

"Sounds splendid.  Lisa, Martha will show you where you can change."

Lisa suddenly felt worried about her dress.  Martin seemed like an
ordinary, jolly, wealthy gentleman; not the dominating master Lisa
imagined.  She feared her dress would seem scandalously skimpy in
these austere surroundings.  Did she really pick it out?

Martha returned with drinks and Martin told her to take Lisa to the
second guest bedroom.  "Right this way, Miss," said Martha to Lisa,
and Lisa followed Martha up the stairs and down a richly carpeted
hallway.

"How long have you worked here?" asked Lisa, feeling more
comfortable now that she was away from Martin and Cheryl.

"Just over a year now.  The previous help -- a butler last time, he
retired, and I am quite happy to have the job."

"Oh yeah?  Is it unusual in any way?"

Martha looked questioningly at Lisa as she opened the door to the
bedroom.  "What do you mean?" she asked.

Lisa looked at the stately bedroom and her tiny dress, still wrapped
in plastic, lying on the double bed.  "I mean, do you ever wear a
different uniform, or do, um, non-standard duties?"

Martha's mouth hung open at first, but then she smiled.  "I think I
see what you're getting at, and I understand why you might think
that.  No, I am just the maid, and the only thing unusual for me is
Martin's love of tradition.  I just do things the way they have
always been done and we are both quite happy."

Lisa smiled, realizing her question had been too forward.  "Ah,
thanks.  I guess I'll find my way back to the Salon when I'm
changed."

"Very good.  Is there anything else you'll be needing?"

"No, thank you."

Martha left, and closed the door.  Lisa looked at herself in the
standing mirror and wondered again how she had gotten into this
situation.  She noted again how she looked like someone else with
the heavy make-up she had put on at the mall.

She slipped out of her skirt, shirt, and bra and unwrapped the shiny
black dress.  Slipping it over her head and tying the halter behind
her neck, she looked at herself again in the mirror.  The dress, if
anything, seemed shorter now than it did in the store.  Seeing
herself in the mirror, it was really something she would expect to
see in a sleazy nightclub, rather than in this lavish home of
antique furniture and traditional manners.

As she turned around, she noticed something else.  The back of the
dress hung so low that if she moved the right way she could see the
string of her thong panties.  "Damn," she said, "why didn't I notice
that in the store?"

She stood in the mirror and deliberated for some time.  Without the
panties, the low back of the dress could be construed as elegantly
daring, albeit in an extremely risque fashion.  With the panties
occasionally showing, it seemed trashy.

Lisa slipped the panties down her legs and over her high heeled
shoes and put them on the pile with her tee shirt and her black
skirt.  Turning around again, the bare skin of her lower back and
the start the curves of her ass, with a little hint of rear cleavage
may have looked less trashy, but left her feeling more naked than
naked.

"And to think," said Lisa to herself as she continually twirled in
front of the mirror, "I chose this dress so that I *wouldn't*
have to lose my panties."

Finally she steeled her nerves and left the bedroom.  As she walked
back to the salon in her heels, her dress swished around her upper
things and her ass and reminded her of how much of her body was
exposed.  As she walked into the Salon, Martin and Cheryl were
laughing over their drinks, but their laughter stopped as Lisa
entered the room.  Lisa could see Martin's jaw drop when he saw the
dress, and Cheryl had a huge grin on her face.

"Wow!" said Martin.  "That's, er, quite a dress!"

"Turn around," said Cheryl, "let's see it all!"

Lisa turned in place, and heard Cheryl clap her hands when she saw
the back of it.  "Wow," said Martin again, "Wow.  Are you sure you
want to wear that tonight?"

Lisa looked at Cheryl, wondering if perhaps she was being offered a
way out.  Cheryl only looked back at her, offering no assistance.
Lisa's throat felt dry, and so she picked up her martini, took a
drink, and said "You're only young once, right?"

Martin chuckled slightly.  "Indeed.  Yes."

Just then Martha poked her head into the room and asked "I have some
final preparations to make with the kitchen staff.  Will you be
needing anything?"  Lisa could see Martha checking out her dress,
and trying to refrain from making a facial expression.

"No, in fact, do leave us alone for a few minutes."

"Very good," she said, and walked out, closing the door behind her.

"So, Lisa," said Martin, gesturing to the chair.  Lisa sat, feeling
her bare ass on the velvet of the couch.  Cheryl, who sat across
from her, probably saw her lack of panties.

"I heard you have taken an interest in my special hobby?"

"Special hobby?" asked Lisa.

Cheryl interrupted, "Oh, Martin, she doesn't know what you mean yet,
at least not exactly.  Why don't you bring her your latest design to
show her?"

Martin nodded and briefly left.  Lisa looked at Cheryl and asked
"what does he mean?" but Cheryl did not reply, and soon Martin
returned.  He was holding some sort of white plastic device,
spherical in shape, with a black wire hanging from it.

Martin sat on the couch with Lisa, and showed her the device.  "Look
familiar?" he asked, but Lisa shook her head.  A moment later it
occurred to her what she was looking at.  This was the device that
was vibrating in her during the golf game!

Cheryl said "Lisa enjoyed it very much the one time she used it. She
used the 'finish' mode."

Lisa looked at Cheryl, "The finish mode?"

Martin unscrewed the device into two hemispheres and showed them to
Lisa. "This is my hobby -- it has been for some 10 years now. I
design and arrange for the manufacture of these expensive little gadgets.
Not many people know about them, but that's probably for the better.
I've even sold a few, but I keep it discreet."

Lisa picked up the device from his hands and studied it.  She could
see several small switches inside along with a battery and some
circuitry.  "My dream is to make the ultimate female toy, and it has
taken substantial research.  I am glad you volunteered to help."

"Well," said Lisa, "I wasn't sure I was helping."

"Well you can help now by telling me how finish mode worked for you.
Did it, indeed, finish you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the part of the device that has taken me years to perfect is
the ability to detect a woman's state of arousal electronically
through internal measurements of temperature and, well, fluid
viscosity.  Although I got a few other modes to work years ago, finish
mode has been my recent project."

"What exactly is 'finish mode'?" asked Lisa.

Martin looked at Cheryl.  "You didn't tell her, did you?  Oh, she
must have been quite surprised."  He turned to Lisa.  "Finish mode
is made to detect your arousal level, and when it sees that it is
beyond a certain threshold, the device turns on, increasing its
intensity until you orgasm.  So, did you?"

Lisa looked down at her naked thighs.  "Yes," she said, "but I'm not
sure the device is entirely to blame."

Martin laughed.  "Ah, well, perhaps more careful tests are needed
then.  It has been quite a hobby of mine adjusting its operation to
work well. I am always eager to hear how different women experience
it. Apparently, this mode never works for Cheryl."

Lisa glanced at Cheryl, and thought she saw her blush.  "Cheryl is
helping you test this thing?" asked Lisa.

"I see Cheryl hasn't told you much of anything.  Yes, indeed, Cheryl
has helped me improve several of its modes."

"What other modes does it have?"

Martin took the device back from Lisa and flipped two of the small
dipswitches with his fingernail.  He then snapped the device closed.
"I would love to show you.  This is the first adaptive mode I
perfected.  You'll find a watercloset through that door --- if you
could please insert this inside you, we can find out together if it
works on you as well as Cheryl."  He handed the closed, spherical
device back to Lisa.

Lisa looked at it nervously, and then looked at Cheryl, who nodded.
Lisa looked at the short skirt of her new dress and realized that
she again had no choice.

As she stood, allowing the hem of her dress to fall the few inches
below her ass, Martin said, "I'm afraid you'll have to insert it
without any artificial lubrication, as that disturbs its detection
function.  Take whatever time you need."

Lisa nodded and walked to the bathroom.  As she walked, she could
feel how squishy her naked pussy felt, and knew she would have no
trouble with the device.   Once in the bathroom, she did not have
much to do.  Her unclothed pussy was only inches from the hem of her
dress, so she needed only slightly lift it slightly out of the way.
Resting on the countertop, she inserted the sphere into herself.  It
easily slid in, leaving behind a small black wire.

She readjusted her dress, looking at herself in the mirror.
Everytime she saw herself, she was reminded of how naked she was in
this dress.  She thought of the little black wire that protruded
from her pussy, and although it was not long, she worried that when
she sat it would become visible, so she bent it upwards to blend
with her pubic hair.  As she did so, she rubbed her clit, which was
now very sensitive, and felt a rush of excitement course through
her.  Was she really going to have to attend a party of strangers in
this condition?  Her resolve to let things happen and enjoy them
started to diminish, and her familiar feelings of self-consciousness
and humiliation began to overwhelm her, making her hornier still.

She walked back to Martin and Cheryl, feeling the sphere move around
inside her as she walked.  It was large enough that it seemed
unlikely to slip out, but still she worried about it until she was
safely seated on the couch.

"Well?" asked Martin, "is it doing anything?"

"No," said Lisa, "maybe its batteries are dead?"

Cheryl and Martin looked at each other, and Cheryl was clearly
grinning.  "Maybe," said Martin, "let's give it some time.  Would
you like another drink?"

For the next half hour, Lisa sipped on her second martini and Martin
started to ask them both about work.  Cheryl began to explain that
reorganization of management was occurring, and about how budgeting
strategies were being carefully scrutinized.  This was familiar
territory for Lisa, and when Martin began asking about the details,
Lisa chimed in and began explaining the mistakes she believed her
colleagues were making.  As she was discussing the need to adapt
pricing strategies not to existing market conditions but to expected
market conditions, she suddenly stopped and gasped!

"Lisa?" asked Martin.  "Are you okay?"

"It's the device, it just switched on.  Oh my god . . ."

Martin and Cheryl glanced at each other again, smiling.   "Tell me
what you're feeling, Lisa," requested Martin, politely.

"Uh," said Lisa, as she felt the vibrations coming from deep inside
her.  They were so overwhelming she had to lean back on the couch
and close her eyes.  "It's vibrating much stronger than I would
expect for such a small device, and, oh, god . . ."

"And . . ."

" . . . but it's not too fast, it seems like just the right speed,
or . . ." She paused again and bit her lower lip.  "It's not just
one speed . . . it seems like it's always steadily going at one
speed, but also getting faster and slower . . . oh, it just got
faster, but not . . . oh god, it feels so good."

"Excellent," said Martin, "it sounds like it is working well.  See,
your physiology responds quicker to simulation than you might think,
and this thing has a simple algorithm to learn what is working and
amplify that, while removing any vibration modes that seem to have a
detrimental effect.  Go on, how does it feel now?"

"I don't know how to describe it.  It feels . . . swirly, and, in
some ways, warm, and, oh . . . it's going to make me . . . I'm so
close . . . oh god oh god it ---"

Just then, Lisa opened her eyes.  The vibration stopped.  "It
stopped!" she said.  "Oh my god, why did it stop?  Please make it
start again!"  She had been so close, and now her pussy craved more
stimulation.  She began to reach down to adjust the sphere, or
perhaps to touch herself, not caring what Martin or Cheryl saw, but
Cheryl grabbed her arm.  "Ah ah, just leave it Lisa.  It's fine."

"But, it stopped.  We need to fix it."

Martin, now with a big smile on his face, said "It will start again
when you're ready for it, Lisa.  I call this 'simmer mode,' although
Cheryl has said that the name sounds way too gentle.  In many ways,
it is the opposite of finish mode.  It is made to sense your
arousal, and if it drops *beneath* a certain threshold, it turns on,
until you are above a rather high threshold, and then it shuts down
again.  Putting both those thresholds as high as possible for a
variety of women has taken substantial tweaking, but I think I have
it nearly perfect.  Only one woman tester had an orgasm at this
level, but she--- "

Martin was interrupted by the sound of a loud knock on the door.
"Ah!" he said, "the door!  That must be the first guest!  I think Martha
is busy in the kitchen, so we should go answer the door!"

Cheryl, still holding Lisa's arm, stood and offered her hand.  "Are
you ready to `play along,' as you said earlier?"

Lisa, still recovering from her near orgasm, took Cheryl's hand and
stood up, again wishing her dress fell a little further down her
thighs when she stood, and noting that her inner thighs felt wet
with her juices of arousal. "I'm not sure anymore," Lisa said.

"Well," said Cheryl, "let's at least see who's at the door."

Cheryl, Lisa, and Martin walked back to the front door, and just as
they arrived the chime went off again.  "They're getting impatient,"
said Martin.  "Lisa, would you like to invite the first guest in?"

Lisa walked to the large, imposing door, and wondered who was on the
other side of it.  She adjusted her dress, first pulling up the back
of it which seemed to hang so low on her ass, and then pulling down
the hem, which pulled the back right back down again.  She took a
hold of the door handle, turned it, and opened the door.

On the other side was a man she recognized.  It was Art, the short,
balding engineer from her workplace.  We was wearing casual pants,
a blue sport jacket, and no tie.  "Hello, Art, I'm glad you
could make it.  Um, come on in."

Art came in and looked around, and as he was shaking Martin's hand,
more guests arrived.  They were more people from Lisa's department;
George, and Alex, and Beth, and a few minutes later Jim arrived.
Lisa noted that only few of the men wore ties, and most of the women
wore jeans or casual dresses, making her risque evening wear seem
extremely out-of-place!

By now, trays of hors d'ouevres had been laid out, and Martha and a
pair of caterers were providing drinks to the guests.  After getting
a glass of gin on ice, Jim returned to Lisa and said, "Wow.  Nice
dress, Lisa.  I feel underdressed.  Or maybe even overdressed."

Lisa flushed with embarrassment, feeling an accompanying tingle in
her naked pussy.  "Well," she said, "I guess I wanted the party to
be fun."

The door chimed again, and again Lisa opened the door.  The newly
arriving guest was Steve, who clearly looked Lisa up and down
several times.  "Well, hello, Boss," he said.

Lisa blushed again.  "Come on in, get a drink."

During the next half hour, Lisa mingled with her workmates and drank
three more drinks, and now felt decidedly drunk.  While talking to
George about lunch options near their office, she nearly dropped her
drink when the device sprang to life inside her.

"Oh, god, excuse me," she said to George, and walked to a nearby
chair, leaning with her hands on the back.  She looked around her.
Her head was a little fuzzy from the alcohol, but she could swear everyone was
looking at her.  And she knew that her entire back, and probably the
top of her ass cheeks, were exposed.  She could feel that her
nipples were almost painfully erect and pressing against the front
of her thin dress.  And she knew her dress was so short that they
could probably see the juices now dripping from her naked sex.  And
the vibrations from the device felt like they were filling her body,
as if they were coating her insides with raw, hot pleasure.  She
could feel her breathing getting heavy, and could not suppress a
slight moan.

Steve approached her, a drink in hand.  "Hey Lisa, how's it going?"

Lisa wanted to say, "I need to orgasm, now!" but knew that everyone
could hear.  She looked at Steve, but could think of nothing to say as
the vibrations ripped through her.

"So, um," said Steve, "I don't mean to embarrass you, but are you
wearing panties under that dress?"

Lisa's eyes widened with worry.  Just what can people see?  The device
was driving her crazy.  Then she took his drink and put it and her own
on a nearby
table.  "Steve, can you come with me for a moment?"  She grabbed his
hand, and led him into the salon, which was empty.

She knew people watched her walk out so quickly, and that her dress
was flipping up on her naked ass as she walked, but she could not
stand it any more.  The swirling and buzzing inside her pussy was
taking her so close to orgasm she felt like she needed to scream.
After entering the salon, she shut the door and pulled Steve against
her, grabbing his muscular arms.

"Steve, please kiss me," she said.  Steve hesitated for a moment,
but then pressed his lips against her half-open mouth, feeling her
tongue impatiently enter his mouth.  Lisa nearly melted at the
feeling of his warm lips, and nearly orgasmed when she felt his warm
right hand touch her bare lower back.  As Steve broke the kiss to
catch his breath, Lisa said "Oh god don't stop," and Steve began
kissing her again, while rubbing her lower back and the top of her
ass.  The combined feeling of his tongue pushing into her mouth, his
hand caressing to top of her bare buttcheeks, and the vibrating in
her ass was too much for her drunken state, and Lisa felt herself
finally slipping into orgasm, when suddenly the vibrating stopped.

"Mmmmph" she screamed through the kiss.  Steve backed off, alarmed.
"No, don't stop.  Just please touch me, please, down there, under my
skirt.  Please."

Steve kissed her again, and moved his hand to her upper
thigh.  The feeling of his hand on her thigh was like electricity,
and with the vibrations stopped she was dying for it to touch her
clit.  So she grabbed it and started moving it upwards.

First Steve cupped her pussy in his hands, and while lightly
massaging it he stopped the kiss and said, "Oh my stars you are wet!
I've never felt such a wet pussy!"

"Don't stop," said Lisa, and pulled his head back to continue the
kiss.

Steve's massaging of her pussy increased, and Lisa's protruding
clitoris started to get the stimulation it needed.  Again she felt
the warm embrace of a powerful orgasm coming on, when the salon door
suddenly opened.

"Ah, there you are," said Cheryl.  Steve immediately stopped kissing
Lisa and removed his hand, and Lisa's short dress fell down again to
barely cover her throbbing, wet, unsatisfied pussy.  "Come on," said
Cheryl, "it's time for the speeches."

She grabbed Lisa's hands and led her back to the foyer, where Jim is
now standing on the steps above the crowd clinking his glass.  Lisa
again feels everyone's eyes on her, and she feels her juices running
down her fully naked legs as her tiny dress flits around her thighs.

"Ah, there she is,"  says Jim.  "Well, let's get this over with.
First, let me thank our new friend Martin for sharing his large and
beautiful home with us this evening."

Everyone applauds, and Martin raises his glass.  Lisa looks over at
him, not applauding in her frustrated, humiliated state, and he
winks at her.

"And," says Jim, "let us thank Cheryl for organizing this event.
When Cheryl suggested having a party to celebrate the department's
recent success, I of course turned her down thinking of how
expensive such an event would be, especially on such short notice."

A small amount of muffled laughing ensues.

"But then she said she would put it together for free at this
beautiful venue, and then I could hardly refuse.  And so here we
are.  Now, some of you might not be aware of what exactly we are
celebrating.  The official announcement will be tomorrow, but most
of the details are settled now, so without further ado, let me be
the first to bring you the good news.

"This quarter, our department was remarkably successful, fiscally, I
mean.  Our revenues were higher than any other department, and they
were higher than our department has had in its history.  These
successes can be attributed in part to changes in the market that
have been beneficial to us, but it took the expertise of our
youngest new manager to take advantage of it to this degree.  So, on
Monday it will be announced that every employee in the department
will receive a substantial bonus, and for this, we can thank Lisa!"

At this moment all eyes turn to Lisa.  As the crowd applauds her,
she realizes she has barely heard what Jim said.  All she can think
about is how much of her wet, naked thighs are plainly visible, and
about how good Steve's hand on her pussy had felt, and she looks at
him, applauding with the rest of the crowd. Her sex aches to be
touched again, and she wishes the device inside her would kick in
again.

"Lisa," says Jim, "would you like to say something?  What's the
secret of your success?"

Lisa slowly realizes she is going to have to give a speech in her
drunk, aroused state. She stands in silence for a minute, as the
crowd quiets down and looks at her. She can see that many of the men
and some of the women were not looking at her face, but rather at
her upper thighs, or at her nipples which are clearly outlined by
the silky black dress.

She has to snap out of her aroused, drunken reverie and come up with
something to say!  She quickly deduces that she was being invited to
congratulate the product engineers, accountants, and other employees
she managed that made this success possible, but all she could think
about were people staring at her body.  She starts to speak.

"Well, I, uh . . ." she begins, "I think it's not my success alone,
but the success of everyone in the department.  I am particularly
happy with the way the accounting section quickly adapted to the new
strategies I brought from recent ideas in the university, and . . ."

Just then the sphere started vibrating again.  She was just getting
into her public speaking mode, why would it start now?  It's too
soon! Not now!

" . . . and . . . I want to, um, I want to thank each and every . .
."

The vibrations again overwhelm her wet, sensitive pussy, and she can
barely keep still.  She self-consciously crosses her arms around her
breasts, but she can feel that this raises her skirt a little bit,
and she fears people can see the bottom of her ass and her dripping
pussy.

" . . . I want to thank each and every one of you for making this
success possible.  Oh god."

The vibrations seem to be getting deeper.  Not harder, not faster,
but *deeper*.

". . . this is a proud, um, moment for me, and I'm feeling a little
overwhelmed.  Thank you all."

As she speaks, she cannot help but squeeze her legs together, trying
to get the clitoral stimulation to take her over the edge.  Just as
her speech comes to an end and the crowd applauds she starts to let
the feeling take over, and the vibrations stop again!  She looks
again at Martin, who seems to have a huge grin on his face as he
applauds, and she looks at Cheryl, who is giving her a thumbs up.

"So, now I have some more sensitive topics to discuss," continues
Jim as the applause dies away.  "As you know, we have been meaning
to restructure our department, and we have nearly decided how to do
it. I think everyone agrees that anyone as successful as Lisa should
be given more leeway to enact her ideas throughout the department,
and so Lisa is of course an excellent candidate for promotion to
assistant director."

Some applause ensues.

"However, I think it's a secret to no one that Lisa's success came
at some cost.  We've all been working a little overboard to catch up
to the changes Lisa is suggesting.  While this sudden success is of
course a good thing, the directors fear that if we give Lisa *too
much* leeway, the sudden changes may overwhelm our ability to adapt.
I tell everyone this, so that there are no rumors about this
decision.  The decision of the directors is that Lisa's promotion
should be accompanied by the promotion of a colleague more familiar
with our traditional way of doing things, to keep things in check."

There is some quiet talk as people look around the room.

"For this reason, the assistant director's office will be shared by
the new and spunky Lisa, and by another, more conservative manager
for whom a promotion is long overdue.  This will be Cheryl.  Her
organization of this party tonight is an example of the things she
does that keeps her team cohesive and hard working, and we believe
she is the perfect complement to Lisa's management style."

There is some applause, and Cheryl holds her hand up to gesture
acknowledgement, but does not give a speech.

"I hope you two don't mind sharing an office.  Cheryl tells me that
she and Lisa have been working together well recently, so hopefully
this will work out well for everyone!"

Tempered applause is heard as Lisa does her best to smile at Cheryl.
On the one hand she is relieved to hear that she is getting the
promotion she believes she deserves, but on the other she was
looking forward to having her own office, and wonders what it will
be like working in such close proximity to Cheryl and her devious
ways every single day.

"Now," says Jim, "at the risk of embarrassing some people here, I
think we've all noticed that Lisa has seemed a little . . . happier
recently."

The crowd laughs, and Lisa feels herself blush.  She wishes she
could touch herself, but everyone is looking at her.

"I think we all have our guesses as to what brought this on, and
most of us are not expecting that it's the promotion.  Steve, do you
have any ideas?"

Suddenly everyone looks at Steve, who is taking a large sip of his
drink.  He nearly spits out his drink at the question.  "I can't
imagine what you mean, Jim" he says with a smile, and everyone
laughs.

"Oh?" says Jim, "maybe you should go back into the next room with
Lisa and ask her what she thinks!"

Again there is laughing, and Lisa feels completely humiliated.

"Seriously, though," says Jim, "with Lisa and Cheryl being promoted,
there are some manager positions open that may go to some of you
admins, so it is time to start kissing ass!  And Steve, I don't mean
that literally!"

Raucous laughter ensues, and Jim steps down from the staircase.
Almost immediately the chatter of the crowd fills the room as people
discuss what they have just seen and heard.

Lisa notices that several of Steve's friends are enthusiastically
asking him questions.  Meanwhile Martin, Cheryl, and Jim are shaking
hands and thanking each other.  Everyone has something to say to
each other, it seems, but no one is talking to Lisa.  She decides
she cannot take it anymore and walks through the salon, into the
bathroom, shuts the door, sits on the counter again with her legs
spread, and begins furiously rubbing her wet, sensitive clit.

The feeling of her fingers is a welcome relief, although she feels
guilty for not asking permission to touch herself, and momentarily
stops.  She hears all the people still chatting at the party,
probably about her promotion, and Jim's insinuations about her and
Jim, and she starts rubbing herself again.  She wishes the device
buried deep inside her would begin its heavenly vibrations again,
but it remains quiet.  She keeps rubbing herself anyway, bringing
herself closer and closer to orgasm, but as she gets close, her
guilt for not getting Cheryl's permission begins to overwhelm her,
causing her to stop and listen for a few minutes to all the chatter
in the party.

This cycle of near orgasm and guilt-induced hesitation continues for
15 minutes, until finally Lisa hears a quiet knock on the door.  She
stands up, straightens her tiny dress, and opens the door.  It is
Cheryl.

Lisa immediately says "Cheryl, I touched myself but I promise I
didn't orgasm."

Cheryl closes the door of the small bathroom behind her and rests on
the counter next to Lisa.

"People are wondering where you are," says Cheryl.

"Listen, Cheryl, I am so aroused from this damned device.  May I
please, PLEASE have an orgasm now?"

Cheryl smiles and gives a short laugh.  "You really have a one-track
mind these days, Lisa.  I thought you'd have something to say about
us sharing an office.  Is it okay with you?"

"Anything is okay as long as I get to cum.  Please, Cheryl, I am so
frustrated."

Cheryl makes a sniffing gesture and says "Yeah, I can smell it.  I
love keeping you this way, you know.  This is how it is going to be
from now on.  Because of those videos I have, you are now my toy.
You realize this, don't you?  And there's no escape from me.  We're
literally going to be working in the same office, and I will make
sure you behave."

Lisa felt on some level that she should feel upset or threatened by
these words, but instead they only turn her on.  She feels certain
that the slightest touch would bring her to orgasm.

"You may touch yourself again, Lisa, if you want, but you may not
orgasm."

Lisa needs no further instruction.  She reaches under her short
dress and starts touching her clit again, but very gently, as she
knows she is very close to cumming.

Cheryl starts idly flicking her fingernail across Lisa's erect
nipple, and continues speaking softly. "There will be lots of skirt
days from now on. And on those days you are mine to play with. Some
days I will keep you on the edge of orgasm like this all day long at
your desk, possibly with one of Martin's little magic devices,
possibly by making you touch your pantiless cunt under your short
little work skirt.  Maybe I'll even hire us a handsome male
secretary and have him help tease you.  Does that turn you on?"

Lisa nods, as she rubs her inner thigh, knowing that if she touches
her clit right now she will have the orgasm that is forbidden her.

"And that's not all," says Cheryl.  "There will be other things you
will have to do.  Things you have never felt before, that you will
find humiliating.  You said you wanted to experience 'the lifestyle'
and play along with whatever I dish out.  Well, that's exactly what
will happen . . ."

Lisa gently rubs her clit again, feeling the start of her orgasm,
but then slips her fingers inside of her, pushing the little egg
device further inside, and moans.

"In fact," Cheryl continues, "on Monday, you will wear one of your
short little skirts, and when we move in together to our new,
shared, private office, you will start this journey by giving me a
long foot massage.  If you do well, then I will let you massage your
wet, horny little cunt on my nylon covered toes.  I'll even let
you cum."

Lisa touches her clit again.  The idea of getting to cum in any way,
even on Cheryl's toes, nearly causes her an orgasm right now.  She
feels she can barely hold on.  "Cheryl," she says, "Please, Cheryl,
I can't wait that long.  I can't wait until Monday. Please let me
cum now. Please. Anyway you want."

Cheryl flicks Lisa's nipples again and starts rubbing her breasts.
"Stop touching yourself," she says, and Lisa obeys, frustratingly
removing her fingers from her wet pussy.  "Stand a little closer."

Lisa approaches Cheryl, and feels Cheryl hands slide down the waist
of her thin, silky dress.  When Cheryl's hands go over her hips to
the tops of her naked thighs, Lisa's breathing quickens.  "Open your
legs a bit," says Cheryl, and again Lisa obeys.  She feels Cheryl's
hands move under her short dress and slide up the insides of her now
very slippery thighs.  Then she feels Cheryl's hands rubbing through
her pubic hair, and then gently pulling on the wire of the device
inside her.  The feeling of it pushing out of her wet slit nearly
sends her over the edge, but not quite.

Cheryl takes the device and lets Lisa's skirt fall to her thighs
again.  She rubs the device with a towel, and unscrews the two
hemispheres of the device.  She then uses her fingernail to adjust the
small dipswitches.

"Since you asked so nicely," says Cheryl, "I will give you
permission to orgasm, but only under the following conditions."

She screws the sphere closed and then slips it again under Lisa's
short dress, and begins rubbing it up and down her slit.

"You may not touch yourself.  You said that this thing 'finished
you' on the golf course, so if it happened once, it will happen
again.  I put it back in 'finish mode.'  After I put it in, it will
take a few minutes for it to adjust, but then I think that if it
sees that you are as horny as you are now, it will switch on and
take you the rest of the way."

Lisa can feel the smooth device being rubbed up and down her slit,
and yearns to feel it pushed inside her.

"But you can't be so antisocial.  When this happens, you'll be out
there, with your workmates, at the party.  Shh, listen."

They are both silent for a moment, and they can hear the party just
on the other side of the door of the bathroom.  Clearly it has moved
into the salon, where there is more seating.

"I want you to go find a seat on the couch.  I think you'll agree
that when you're sitting. the vibrations from the device are much
more intense.  If you just keep yourself aroused, I'm sure you'll
get the orgasm you crave."

"But Cheryl, I can't cum in front of all those people!  What will
they think of me?"

"Oh, everyone is completely drunk at this point, anyway.  We'll
chalk up any strange behavior to alcohol anyway.  Now, how does this
feel?"

As she asks, Cheryl pushes the egg into Lisa's pussy, and again
buries the wire in her pubic hair.  The feeling of the device
entering her and the 'schloop' sound it made keep Lisa's arousal
high.  She says, "It feels really good, but I don't think I can do
this."

"Don't forget," says Cheryl, "you wanted to play along, right?  And
you don't have a choice, because this is an order, one of many that
you will have to obey from now on, assistant assistant director.
Now, you leave the bathroom first, and then I'll slip out later, so
that we aren't seen leaving together."

At this Cheryl opens the door and pushes Lisa by her nearly naked
ass out into the Salon.

The entire party had indeed moved into the Salon, and although most
people were left standing, all of the furniture in the room is
occupied.  Lisa sees Steve, Art, and Beth on the couch, and
approaches them, feeling the device move inside her again, and
wonders when it will switch on.  "Is there room for me on this
couch?" she asks.

The three people look up at her, their eyes level with the short hem
of her minidress.  Steve quickly says, "Of course," and he squeezes
against the side of the couch while Art squeezes against Beth's
blue-jeaned thighs to make room.  Only about a foot of free couch
space is created this way.

Lisa tries to sit down in this spot.  She suspects that as she sits,
Steve and Art can see her naked ass under her tiny dress.  When she
puts her weight down, she is mostly sitting on Steve and Art's legs,
but then she wiggles into the spot.  As she does so, her skirt gets
hiked up, and her naked, wet pussy is briefly exposed.  She quickly
covers it with what little material she can pull out of the tight
space between her legs and her partners, but the tightly compressed
hips prevents her from covering her crotch by more than about an
inch of tightly stretched material.  She can no longer see her
pussy, and hopes that Steve and Art cannot either, but suspects that
anyone sitting across from the couch must be able to see her
nakedness.

It doesn't matter, she thinks to herself.  it will all be chalked up
to alcohol later.  She is starting to sober up herself, but everyone
else is holding a drink.  Although she wants to get one, she does
not want to repeat the humiliating experience of sitting in this
tight space.

As Steve and Art begin to continue their conversation, which was
apparently about a recent spy thriller movie and how unrealistic its
special effects were, Lisa begins to get bored.  Her pussy, though
exposed, is not getting any stimulation, and though the thought of
her coworkers seeing her so naked under so short a dress is a
perpetual turn on, she has worried that the device has not switched
on.  Knowing that she needs her arousal to pass some threshold
before it will activate, she begins to fantasize.  She thinks of
what it will be like to share an office with Cheryl.  She imagines a
day where she will show up early in the morning.  She imagines she
will be wearing her tight black skirt with no panties.  She imagines
that Cheryl has had her permanently remove all of her pussy hair, so
that she is completely naked.  She imagines that she will be wearing
her commuter butt plug, a small butt plug that Cheryl makes her wear
on skirt days, designed to tease her during her commute.  She
imagines that when she gets to the office, well before Cheryl does,
she immediately crawls under Cheryl's desk and begins stroking her
moist, naked pussy, bringing herself close to orgasm but not quite
reaching it repeatedly.  She does this because Cheryl has told her
that she must be hot and horny when Cheryl arrives.

Finally, Cheryl will walk into the office, wearing a conservative
grey skirt and professional looking suit jacket.  She will be
holding a cup of coffee, and will immediately sit at her desk.  If
this is a good day, Lisa imagines, Cheryl will stroke Lisa's hair
behind her head, slip her foot out of her shoe, and tease her pussy
with her nylon-covered toes, just like she said.  Maybe, if it is a
very good day, Cheryl will open up her legs, and pull Lisa's head
between her thighs.  Lisa will find that Cheryl is wearing
stockings, and when she spreads her legs, Lisa will pull her
conservative panties aside and begin licking her pussy, bringing
Cheryl to a lovely orgasm.  Then, Lisa thinks, Cheryl will hold
Lisa's head against her wet crotch, while still teasing her with her
toe.  "Orgasms feel so good," Cheryl will say.  "It's too bad you
can't have one now," she will say, and Lisa will moan into Cheryl's
pussy with frustration.

No wait! thinks Lisa.  That's not what I want.  I'm not a lesbian! I
don't want to be teased all day.   I want an orgasm!  I want it now!

She finds that her fantasy about Cheryl has turned her on, but the
device has not yet turned on.  So she tries to think of something
else arousing, having completely lost track of the conversation
between Steve, Art, and Beth happening on the couch.  She thinks of
the time she was in the restaurant with Joe and Joe, and imagines
that Steve and Art both start feeling her legs, their hands moving
higher and higher up, but this time, with permission to orgasm, they
do not step, and instead they slip under her tiny dress and begin to
caress her achingly hard slit.

At this point Lisa thinks that if she doesn't cum, she will
literally go insane.  So, when Art starts flirting with Beth, she
whispers in Steve's ear: "Steve, please, touch my leg.  I don't care
who sees.  I need to feel your hand again."

Steve does not say anything, but he obliges, resting his hand just
above Lisa's knee.  Lisa loves the feeling of his warm hand on her
naked leg, but wishes it were higher.  Then Beth asks Steve what he
thinks about Art's comments about the cafeteria food at work.  Steve
says he disagrees, and continues idly chatting, and idly rubs his
hand over Lisa's naked thigh as he does so.  Lisa knows that
everyone can see his hand on her exposed thigh, but she doesn't
care.  She wishes she could spread her legs wide open, putting one
on Steve's lap and the other an Art's.  Then Steve would have
complete access, and he could touch her completely exposed clit
while everyone in the room halts their conversation and watches her
have her much deserved orgasm.

The notion of everyone seeing her orgasm is what pushes her over the
threshold.  Suddenly she feels incredibly horny, and the device
inside her wakes up.  The vibrations begin slow, but with the device
pressed between her compressed legs they seem especially intense.
Lisa wonders if anyone else can feel them, but then decides she does
not care.  She feels the device start to increase in speed and closes
her eyes.

Steve's hand continues to tease her thigh as she feels the vibrations
take over.  Her eyes still closed, she grabs Steve's teasing hand and
moves it up her thigh until it is resting against her naked pussy.
Focusing on the vibrations which have moved from a steady drone to
more of a sweeping oscillation, Lisa can feel her long-awaited orgasm
coming close.  She pushes Steve's hand against her naked sex, and the
feeling of his warm fingers rubbing her sopping wet clit pushes her to
that threshold, that level she has been flirting with all night, but
this time he does not stop touching her, and the vibrations do not
stop filling her, and she has permission!  Suddenly the vibrations
increase their intensity, and Steve's finger rubs a perfect circle
over just the right spot, and she feels the orgasm explode from inside
her.

"Oh goooooooddddddddd . . . " she whispers into Steve's ear as the
pleasure washes over her.

As the orgasm begins to subside, she finally opens her eyes again.
She realizes that, although there is still some muttering in the room,
all nearby conversation has stopped, and all eyes are on her.  Art and
Beth are no longer flirting, and everyone seems to be looking at her.
She looks down and realizes she had absentmindedly lifted her right
leg, the one in contact with Steve, to give him more access.  His hand
continues to rest on her inner thigh.  Although she cannot see her own
pussy, she wonders what show she must have given, and to whom, and
with the pleasure of the orgasm fading away she feels deeply
humiliated.

She quickly pushes away Steve's hand and struggles to stand up from
the crowded couch.  She pulls the dress down over herself as best she
can.  She sees everyone looking at her, and knows she must say
something.

"Oh, wow, I'm drunk," she says, and abruptly rushes back to the bathroom.