2 comments/ 57775 views/ 18 favorites The Naked Paralegal Ch. 01 By: jdwhite1315 Your boss has been flirting more today than usual. As he walked by your desk on the way back to his office after lunch, he gently laid his hand on your shoulder and said quietly "Maybe we can find some time later for you to show me those legal briefs." "Yes, sir," was all you had replied, trying to look shy as you found a wetness begin to spread between your legs. You were the paralegal and he a junior partner at the medium-sized law firm... and over the past few weeks you had noticed him begin to look down your blouse more often while he asked you to look for a file, which had led to your going bra-less yesterday. When a pup-tent immediately formed in his suit pants once he realized it was only you underneath your silky button-down, you knew that you would have to have him, and soon. As afternoon turned to evening, and as everyone else poured out of work for their drives home, it was only you and he left in the entire office. It had been several hours since the "legal briefs" comment, and although you were staying "to work on an important case" (as you told some colleagues) what kept you there was not the document open on the computer in front of you. No, what had been on your mind all afternoon was how disappointed your boss had looked when his down-blouse scan today had found a bra, which confirmed for you how badly he wanted to see your tits. And you know now that it wasn't in an all-guys-want-to-see-tits sort of way, it's more a bend-you-over-his-desk-and-fuck-you-royally sort of way. To say that your "legal briefs" were completely soaked (dried, and then soaked again) would be a horrible understatement. Suddenly the intercom on your desk beeped. "Ms. Babson, would you come in here, please?" Normally he would have just opened his office door, which was right behind you, and called out for what he needed. Clearly, his mind was elsewhere, too. His voice had broken your reverie, but it spurred you to action. You stood up and grabbed some file from your desk; it didn't matter which file, just something in your hands to throw away as you stormed across his office and threw yourself on top of him. But then you stopped for a moment--you knew exactly what you should have in your hands. After all, he had asked exactly for that item earlier in the day. You looked down at your business suit. A sensible-but-fitted black skirt and matching jacket, dark stockings, and a dark blue blouse, complimented by a pair of three-inch black heels. You looked hot and you knew it. He had definitely appreciated the outfit earlier (except for the bra--which was also black). You shrugged out of the jacket and let it fall to the floor behind your chair. You quickly unzipped the skirt, letting fall to your feet before stepping out of it. Stepping out of your shoes, you pulled the stockings down and off (you think you ripped them but you didn't really care then). You pulled off your blouse and it quickly joined the pile at your feet. For a second you froze--standing in the middle of the office in just your bra and panties you felt foolish... what if he spurned your advance? But you were pretty sure he wouldn't--he was not married and clearly into you. An instant later you unhooked your bra, dropped it from the end of your arms, and suddenly you were topless in the office you shared with all these people during the day. The feeling was wonderful--you could almost imagine the looks on your coworkers' faces as they saw your tits hanging out--your puffy pink nipples now hard as rocks--and your little black thong the only thing between you and total nudity. You quickly rectified that situation as well: You put your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and shoved them to the floor. As you stepped out of them you stepped back into your heels. 'Gotta look professional,' you lustily thought, 'and when a girl goes to see her boss wearing heels is a sign of a good professional.' Now completely and totally nude (except for the heels), you bent over to retrieve your panties from the floor, keeping your legs locked; in your mind, you loved the fact that if there was someone behind you they'd be able to see not just your bare-ass but now your pussy lips as well as all the drippings running down your legs. At that moment you were so turned-on that you were wishing the whole office was there (rather than only you and your boss), so the men could all develop pup-tents and so the women could be incredibly jealous of your hot nude body. While bent over you pushed the pile of clothes under your desk and next to your bag. Now, with only your thong in your right-hand, you took a step towards his closed door. Your strip-tease had taken less than thirty seconds. Your pussy was throbbing and your heart was in your chest. You knocked on his door, first softly and then aggressively. "Come in," came the response through the door. You threw back your shoulders to accentuate your C-cups. You quickly looked down to your flat stomach and the small landing strip you had trimmed only this morning. With your left-hand you reached down, turned the knob, and began to swing the door open. Although you were preparing for some big reaction, he was sitting with his back to the door (looking out the window), so you quickly stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind you. You leaned back against it (the oak feeling cold against your bare-ass), and purred, in the sexiest voice you had "I brought you those legal briefs we had discussed earlier, sir." You dangled your thong from the end of your arm. He turned from the window and froze in place. His jaw literally dropped. He took you in with a look, and then kept looking, moving from your face to your tits to your pussy and then back. He barely moved. The silence was killing you but you refused to say anything else; you just positioned yourself so he could most appreciate the view you were offering him. Finally, he spoke. "You are the single sexiest thing I have ever seen in my entire life." That was what you'd been waiting for. You dropped the thong by the door and walked over to him, trying to sashay a little. You made your way around his desk as he pushed his chair back; however, you jumped on to his lap before he had a chance to begin to stand-up. In an instant your mouth was on his and his hands were roaming all over your bare back; not happy there they dropped down and began to cup your ass-cheeks. You were now straddling him--at first his suit pants had felt weird against your bare snatch but now you noticed the seam near his zipper was perfectly positioned and rubbing against your clit obscenely. His mouth tasted wonderful as you gently nibbled on his tongue. Your tits were mashed against his white suit shirt; again, the material felt strange against your bare nipples, but you loved the contrast. He leaned back and attempted to undo his tie, but you stopped his hands with one of your own. "No, sir," you said, breathing hard, "you're staying dressed. I'll take him out when I want to play with him, but for now I'm your nude assistant. I want to get dressed so badly but my horrible boss is making me work naked." You looked him in the eyes, your arms wrapped around his neck and your pussy dripping on his suit pants. "Don't you agree?" you asked gently. "Yes, Ms. Babson," he sighed, trying to think clearly, "a good assistant spends her day exposed for her boss's viewing pleasure. Though, I seem to remember a time earlier when you had covered yourself up. That's a no-no." He reached around you and pushed his keyboard back; swinging his left arm he knocked several folders on to the floor. He grabbed your hips and lifted you on until you were sitting on the edge of the desk, the glass surface immediately feeling sticky under your dripping wet snatch. He looked at your face sternly. "That kind of behavior will result in forty lashes," he exclaimed. With that he reached forward and grabbed your hips, pulling you forward so that your pussy hung off the edge of his desk. He reached his face down until he was in between your legs, his nose buried in your crotch. When he had said 'lashes' you had expected a spanking but now you realized what he wanted. His tongue went to work over your clit and labia; every once in a while his teeth would make contact with something sensitive and your body jumped. You arched backwards and had to grab the back edge of his desk for support--you were squirming so much and gushing so badly you nearly slipped off the front of his desk and into his lap again. Your feet were resting against the arms of his executive chair. The forty lashes must have been up because he pulled his face away from your sweet snatch, although as you went to lean forward and open your eyes you realized he had replaced his tongue with his hand; two fingers were now inside you while he gently squeezed your clit between his thumb and another finger. Although you had loved his tongue there, this was pretty great, too, and you felt a long-awaited orgasm begin to build. "I'm sorry to hear you like being dressed when you work," he said, his breath coming in choppy as his right hand vigorously attached your clit while his left hand began to work on your tits, "since we'll be requiring you to work in the nude from now on. Don't worry, this will only be while you're in the office. At court you can dress, but here in the office... " (he leaned forward for this, so that his voice was at your ear) "nothing. Stark naked and exposed, and not just for me. Your cunt and tits will be out for all the partners and associates to appreciate. Maybe we'll use you to show around potential new clients," he added, squeezing your clit a little harder than before. The image of you walking around the office leading a group of strange men--the men in conservative suits while you were nude and mortified and trying to hide behind your hands--flashed through your mind; at that second, your orgasm overtook you and you started bucking wildly. He held your right hip with his left hand as you rode his right hand for all you were worth. You were screaming wildly and had used your hands to pull him in close. As your orgasm faded you let go and fell back. Once he knew you were okay he moved his right hand from inside you and quietly licked his finger; you didn't see this with your eyes closed. "Are you okay, Lisa?" he asked tenderly. You opened your eyes. For a second you had forgotten where you were, though as you sat up you felt your bare tits fall away from your chest. You remembered that you were still sitting totally nude on your boss's desk, all (or nearly all) of your clothes outside at your cubicle. And you realized you didn't care--you still had one more thing to take care of this evening. "No," you said, beginning to work your way off his desk. He looked terrified for a moment, afraid he had hurt you somehow, until you continued, "I'm not okay because I still have this horrible itch inside me." You climbed off the desk and pushed his chair back to the window. This gave you enough room to drop onto your knees between his legs. You reached your hands up the outside of his pants legs; working your fingers up the slick material, you eventually came to his belt and the button at the top. Quickly undoing both, you found the top of his zipper and worked it all the way down. He began to lift himself up but you stopped him again. "No," you said, "you're the boss. You stay dressed. I'm the nude assistant here to provide you any service you desire." You reached inside his pants and found the top of his boxer-briefs; you could see his hardness outlined through the dark cloth. You reached inside and immediately connected with the swollen head of his cock. You let your fingers linger on that as he squirmed under your ministrations. Using both hands you fished his shaft and balls out; the elastic of the boxer-briefs was now caught underneath the bottom of his package, his scrotum holding it in place. You tucked the sides of his zipper away so they would not scratch him. You gently ran your nails along his hardness, admiring your new toy. He breathed out loudly. "What have I done to deserve you?" he asked. "Well," you said, looking only at his cock," I really wanted to kiss you. So that's what I'm gonna do now." And with that you leaned forward and began to kiss his cockhead, first chastely and then using your tongue. Slowly you began to open your mouth and take him in. He was warm and already dripping precum as you raced your tongue around him. Your hands were on his thighs and his hands were in your hair and on the top of your head. You had often imagined what his cock would look and taste and feel like, and you knew now that you would be spending a lot of time finding that out. You knew how much you had wanted to make him cum with your lips and tongue and then swallow his seed. But right now it wasn't enough for you. You pulled away and used your hands to push yourself to your feet. He had been fervently enjoying your blowjob and was caught off-guard. "What... what are you doing?" he asked, clearly aching and nearly ready to burst. You put one knee on the side of him and swung your other leg over, now straddling him several inches above his swollen cock. "I was just hoping to get some more valuable input from my boss," you cooed, lowering yourself down slowly. He was thicker than you had expected and as he entered your love hole you felt him fill you up. "Oh, SIR," you screamed as you let your weight go--you feel onto his lap and his hardness was pushed deep inside you. You arched back and he leaned forward, one hand around your back to keep you from falling and the other working one tit again. He began to lick and kiss your other nipple, and as you rode him you knew another orgasm was coming for you soon. "I guess you'd better get used to this," he breathed, "since you'll be working naked I'll have to fuck you all the time now." You were only coherent enough to get the general gist, so you replied "Do I have to work naked? Please don't make me." The begging was nearly getting you off, the fantasy of your boss forcing you to be nude for him. He worked your tits as he responded: "Keep talking back and I'll make you go home naked tonight. Can you see yourself walking the office and the lobby and then the garage in nothing but your heels?" You didn't know what that image was doing for him but you knew that it did it for you; the next instant you were screaming again and riding him like a fucking bronco. And, at the height of your orgasm, you felt him explode inside of you. He was breathing heavy and moaning and then he shuddered a little. You both came down together. A moment later you found yourself leaning forward, with him holding you tight against him. You were so comfortable you never wanted to move. "Thank you," you finally said. "Thank me? For what?" he wondered, softly stroking your long brown hair. "For a second I thought you'd turn me down," you explained, an abnormal shyness overtaking you. "Um, incredibly sexy and hot naked woman who I have fantasized about on more than one occasion is standing in my office offering me her panties... let me think about that for a second," he joked, looking you in the eyes for the first time. You chuckled lightly and then reached up and kissed him quickly. You put your arms down and gently moved your knees off the chair one at a time, eventually extending your legs until your heels were on the floor and you were standing again for the first time since climbing on top of him. You now stood very nude and supple in front of your boss. You could feel his and your juices running down your thighs as you stretched, arching your back to entice him again with your tits. "Lisa, do you want to do something now?" he asked. He had just fucked you silly and was now shyly asking you out on a date; you found the gesture incredibly cute. You knew you would start falling in love with him soon (if you weren't already) but you wanted to keep him at bay a little for now. "Actually," you said, "I really do have some more work to do this evening, boss." You said the last word leeringly. "Yeah," he said, confused and dazzled and in post-coital bliss, "I should probably get going, too." He looked down at himself: his tie was completely askew and his package was still hanging out through his zipper, although he had begun to deflate a little. He rushed to put himself away, but you got there first. "Allow me," you said, gently putting him back inside his boxer-briefs and beginning to do up his zipper. He pulled himself to his feet and you finished buttoning him and fixing his belt. He straightened his tie and then the two of you just stood there, him back to being fully dressed while you were still fully nude and dripping from your time together. He awkwardly opened his arms; you played hard-to-get for a second but then ran into them. He kissed you deeply, finally letting go to grab his suit coat from his chair and then his briefcase. He grabbed your hand as you walked back to his door. As you get to the spot where your thong was laying, he reached down and picked it up. He looked at you and then put the small scrap of cloth in his pocket. "I think I'll take these legal briefs home with me," he said, looking for a reaction from you. You had been planning to slide them back on then, but instead you shrug and said "You're the boss." You can feel your pussy throb a little at the idea of heading home with no panties. You reached the door, which he opens for you very gentlemanly. You flicked the lights off in his office and the only light in the entire area was the one on at your desk. Suddenly you started laughing, he stepped back to watch as your bare tits shook. "I just realized that anyone could have come back to the office while we were in there," you said. "And here I am walking out in my birthday suit." "You better get used to it," he said quietly, leaning in to nibble your ear. "You'll be spending a lot of time here in this outfit. And by the way, it really is a gorgeous outfit." You turned to him for a quick kiss, reaching down to cup his groin. You could feel him hardening under your hand but you decided to keep him wanting a little more. "I think we'll have to work late again tomorrow night," you suggest, breaking away from him and walking over to your desk. You pulled back your chair and sat down, enjoying the feel of the leather on your bare-ass. "Except," you add, "I think this time I'll be the boss. And I guess we know who the naked assistant will be." You turned to face him and put one leg on the desk, spreading yourself to give him a parting view of your bare pussy. He was caught off-guard but recovered. With a slight bow he said "Yes, ma'am. Have a good night, Ms. Babson." And with that he turned away and walked through the office, turning once more to enjoy your nakedness before entering the hallway that led to the lobby. The instant he is gone you felt a final orgasm begin to build, some leftover tension from all the evening's events: Flirting during the day, deciding to strip and surprise him naked in his office, fantasizing about being kept naked during work hours, and finally sucking and fucking him in his chair. You began to reconsider tomorrow's plan--maybe you should always remain the naked assistant with him the dominant and fully clothed boss--and you started to climax, making a large mess on the leather below your bare body. As you began to recover you remember him threatening you with having to go home completely nude. The idea still gets you hot but you file it away as a fantasy for another evening. You reached down to your bag to get a tissue to wipe the seat with when you notice that your bag is the only thing under your desk. For a second it doesn't register, and then suddenly you are hit with a serious realization: Your bag is the ONLY thing under your desk. The space where you left all your clothes--ALL your clothes (jacket, shirt, skirt, stockings, and bra)--is completely empty. You throw yourself under your desk, desperately searching for any scrap of covering. You go far under your desk, lying flat so that your bare tits and bare pussy are rubbing against the carpet. The Naked Paralegal Ch. 01 You find nothing besides your purse. You curl yourself into a ball, now on the floor bare-naked. For a second you think that this is just him playing a joke... except you realize he was never away from you, even for a second. He didn't take your clothes... so who did? Your orgasmic bliss has been shattered quickly, your confidence at your successful seduction completely destroyed. "Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mutter. "This can't be happening. I can't be stuck like this, I can't be. I don't have a coat, or a towel, or anything." You check your purse and your keys are still there--you can get home but you'd have to drive there totally and completely naked--you have nothing in your car that could help. You'd have to walk into your apartment complex totally nude, trying to use your purse to cover yourself. You can't believe this is happening... and the worst part is that your body has begun to react to this new situation. Your hands are between your legs again as you start to imagine yourself driving home in this outfit, the seatbelt between your bare breasts and your bare pussy dripping on your leather driver's seat. Would people in other cars see you? Would pedestrians crossing the street notice the attractive nude woman in the tan car? What if you get pulled over by a cop? Would he make you get out and stand next to your vehicle? This last image is the one that sends you over--your fourth climax of the evening, the most humiliating and most powerful. You hang your head in shame as a 'beep' from your computer indicates an incoming email message. You stand yourself up but now you are covering yourself as best as you can--you are no longer confident in your nudity and you are pretty sure someone else is here. You open the email and your worst fears are confirmed: "Dear Ms. Babson, I cleaning around your desk and noticed you had left a pile of junk next to the trash can. I took it for you since I like being helpful. If you want any of it back it's sitting here with me in the custodial office. Hope to see you soon!! Marisa" You heart stops. Marisa is the evening cleaning lady, and you have never been nice to her. You typically yell at her if she's vacuuming or trying to clean your desk area whenever you work late. You have treated her very badly in the past. And in the present, she has all your clothes. You look around desperately. Maybe someone left a sweater or a jacket on a chair. You start moving around the office, hugging your nude body as you do, but find nothing. You have only one option, but you don't like it. The custodial office is off the lobby. You only hope everyone else has gone home. You begin the naked walk through the office, and wonder what's next. The Naked Paralegal Ch. 02 Your heels clicked loudly on the lobby floor. Although the space seemed to be empty--and lowly lit--you had no interest in attracting any unwanted attention. Hell, given your current outfit no attention of any kind would be wanted. You looked up--looking down nearly made you ill-- remembering that you had to cross the entire lobby to get to your intended destination. As you approached the security desk you found yourself grateful that it was unmanned. The next thought came with a whimper: If only the custodial staff went home as early. After all, it was a custodian who was the primary cause of your slow and terrified walk across the lobby. Your slow, terrified, and totally nude walk across the lobby, your heels (still clicking loudly) the only covering you had on any inch of your body. This wasn't completely true, as your left hand was directly in front of your bare pussy and your right arm was draped strategically across your bare breasts. However, your ass--although well-toned--was completely exposed. As you finally passed the security desk, you could imagine the guard leering at you as you passed by him stark naked. 'I'm not even carrying my ID,' you thought. Looking down for a moment, you tried to joke with yourself: 'Where would I have put it?' Your brain was racing, and you kept going over how you got yourself into this situation. Though, you weren't entirely to blame, you tried convincing yourself. True, you had decided to seduce your boss when it was only you and he working late that evening. And yes, you had stripped down to your birthday suit at your cubicle, bringing only your thong (which you had held in your hand) as you proceeded into his office, your heels your only covering (showing off to your boss the same non-outfit you had now been in for almost an hour). And finally, you had loved how much he enjoyed looking at your naked tits and pussy, and you really loved sucking and fucking him in his chair while he remained dressed under your very nude body. But you weren't the one who decided to take all your clothes, leaving you scurrying naked underneath your desk when you went to find them after your boss left. You weren't the one who had left you a humiliating choice: Streak across the lobby to beg the woman who had stolen every scrap of clothing you had to return them to you or drive yourself home totally naked. As you had made your way across the office to the lobby door you had frantically checked every desk for a jacket or sweater or something. But nobody had left you anything. And your boss hadn't been any help either. After rereading the email from the custodian Marisa--a woman you had treated poorly and who now had all your clothes in her office--you had picked up your desk phone and called your boss. He had walked out only a few minutes earlier and had probably not driven far from the office yet. Since he really liked you--and since you had just fucked him silly--you figured he'd be happy to help. "Mr. Daniels, it's Lisa," you spoke hurriedly into the phone when he answered his cell, as you cradled the phone between your cheek and shoulder so you could use your arms and hands to cover yourself. "Ah, how is my favorite gorgeous assistant this evening?" he jokingly asked, as though he hadn't left you sprawled and nude at your desk a few minutes earlier, a time when you both thought that it was the greatest evening ever. "Naked," you replied, your bare nipples hard against your arm and your pussy dripping on the hand that covered it. "As you should be," he chuckled. For a second your heart stopped as you thought he had arranged this, but then you realized he thought you were still just playing out the fantasy from earlier. "No, sir, I'm really totally naked at my desk. My clothes are all gone," you added, very quietly. "I went to get them from under my desk but only my purse was there. I'm stuck here, totally naked, at our office." "That's too bad," he replied, "but you'd better get used to it." Then he lowered his voice. "Oh, Lisa, you are so incredible, this is so wonderful. I can't wait for tomorrow." You began to realize he was lost in the fantasy and that he thought you were too. You added a final tone of desperation. "Please, sir, come back to the office and bring me something to wear. Anything. I'll do whatever you want, I just can't go home like this. At least bring me back my underwear. I'm totally and completely nude, I can't walk out like this. Please, I'm begging you." And you were. But he didn't get it. "I'm sorry, Ms. Babson, I did tell you that you'd be working nude from here on in, and that if you complained about it then you'd force me to make you go home naked tonight as well." He had said all that, but at the time you were grinding on top of him with him deep inside you, both of you lost in the heat of the moment. A moment he was clearly still in. "I need to get home, Ms. Babson," he said, trying to play the boss-fantasy for one moment longer. "I expect to see you tomorrow bright and early. And I expect to see you in the same outfit you are in now. Goodnight." And with that, he disconnected the call. At which point your heart nearly broke as you realized that unless you faced Marisa soon he would see you bright and early tomorrow morning in the exact same outfit you were wearing now: your black heels and nothing else. All of which brought you to the present moment, now just steps away from the closed door of the brightly lit custodial office that was discreetly located in an alcove off the lobby. You looked back over your shoulder at the lobby--a giant space you had just traversed entirely in the nude. You tried to take comfort in the fact you had the courage to have made it here, the place where your clothes were supposed to be. You didn't want to think of what would happen if they weren't there. The door in front of you had the words "CUSTODIAL OFFICE" stenciled on the glass. Looking past the letters you could see the office was empty--no Marisa. You moved your hand away from your bare pussy to try the door knob, which for a second you considered could be locked and that you could have been played for a fool yet again. But the door swung open, quietly, and you stepped into the brightly fit front room, recovering your bare snatch with your hand. Your heart was pounding wildly as you tried to listen for sounds from the back rooms. You heard nothing and wondered-- for the first time--had Marisa already left... and if so, had she taken your clothes with her? Giving up any pretense of modesty, you started running around the front room, looking under the desks and in drawers to see if you could find any covering, yours or otherwise. You were squatting in front of an old desk--your legs spread wide and your pussy still dripping on the grayish carpet--when you heard a voice behind your back. "Hey, Ms. Babson, good to see ya," the voice said. It was clearly gloating. You closed your eyes as you prepared to face your tormentor clad only in your birthday suit. You used your hands to get you standing again, but as you turned you threw an arm across your breasts and a hand in front of your pussy. Marisa was leaning carelessly in the doorway that led to the backrooms (storage and supply rooms, you thought) her arms folded across her chest and a huge smile on her face. She was clad in her blue custodial outfit--a button down with a name-tag and pants--and was taking you in in all your glory. For the first time you noticed she was probably about your age. It had been a long time since another woman (besides your doctor) had seen you like this (there had been one evening with a friend in college) and you cringed as you realized that your pussy was beginning to drip again. "I really liked the view when I first walked in," she continued, "watching you spread it in front of that desk. Nice ass. But this side looks pretty good, too. Just drop the hands... after all, it's just us girls." She said this all casually, as if stark naked paralegals walked into her office all the time. "Oh, c'mon," she said when you hadn't moved. "I don't swing like that. I just like the idea of miss high-and-mighty standing here in my office displaying all her goods for the world to see. You know you want to keep me happy right now. I doubt you'll be seeing any of those clothes of yours again if I'm not." You couldn't believe this woman--who you thought of as 'only a custodian'--was doing this to you. You were better than her: better educated, better looking (although you did notice she had a pretty face, and might have a good body when not hidden under the custodial outfit), better at getting guys ('Right,' you thought, 'since the last guy I fucked had decided to leave me stuck here stark naked'), better at a lot of things. But you weren't sure that was true; after all, how could you be better than her when she was standing there properly dressed while you were covering your very naked body in her office? And a moment later you weren't even covering yourself, as you dropped your hands and arms to your side. You were now showing her the exact same view you had showed your boss an hour ago (was it really only an hour?), although at that time you had had your thong in your hand. 'Why had I let him take that, too?' you wondered. "Wow, those are really nice," Marisa commented, describing your breasts as though she was a bidder at some slave auction. "They're definitely real. And those nips, very perky." Of course your nipples were still hard as rocks, and had been ever since your striptease earlier. "A landing strip, huh?" she continued, now taking in your bare pussy. "Figured you for a Brazilian chick." You found your voice. "I thought you didn't swing that way," you said, your natural tendency to argue overcoming more intelligently leaning toward prudent behavior, given the circumstances. "Yet you've been imagining me naked?" Marisa seemed to enjoy your momentary confidence. "Ever since I found that pile under your desk I've been wondering what you'd look like when you finally scampered in here. Although I had actually thought you might be wearing some panties, since I hadn't found any of those. Then, once I'd got you to strip those off too I figured you'd be totally bare from eyes to toes." "Guess I saved you the trouble of 'stripping those off me too'," you commented snidely, annoyed by how much control this woman thought she had over you. And then you looked down and remembered: She did have total control over you. "Don't think of me as a monster, Ms. Babson," Marisa responded, with no malice. Her tone of voice caught you by surprise. "I'm just a lady who found herself a nice opportunity. A successful professional leaves all her clothes outside while she's in her boss's office, fucking the shit out of him. Don't look surprised I knew that, it was the screaming coming from his office that got me to walk back to your desk. Now I know the successful professional has no interest in walking out of this office in her birthday suit. Which, I do have to say, is a very nice looking suit on you." Another grin with that last line. "So I wondered what the successful professional might be willing to do to get some of those clothes back," Marisa concluded. You didn't like her use of 'some of those clothes,' since it indicated that she would not be returning your full complement of garments. Regardless, whatever you got would only come after you 'did something for her.' "Do you want money?" you asked. "I have money in my purse, back at my desk. I didn't bring it with me," you added, somewhat foolishly. "Or anything else," Marisa remarked, once again taking in your naked form. Every time she did that your pussy gushed a little--you could only pray that she didn't notice. "No," Marisa sighed, "I don't want your money. I don't want to take anything else from you. Actually, that's not true." You cringed in response. "Your heels are nice," she commented. "I've always wanted a pair like that." She looked at you expectantly. You cursed under your breath and she chucked a little. You reached down and slipped off the right shoe, using the desk you had been in front of earlier to steady you. You repeated the action with the left shoe, leaving the pair on the floor. Your returned your arms to your side as you knew she wanted you to. Marisa straightened up from the doorway and walked over to you, a distance of a few feet. She leaned down to pick up the shoes, which briefly put her eye-level with your bare pussy. She straightened up and then looked inside the shoes. "Oh, my feet will never fit in these," she noted. "Maybe I'll give them to my sister." You looked down and noticed that Marisa had small feet--probably smaller than yours--enclosed in sneakers. She turned around and carelessly threw the shoes through the doorway and into one of the back rooms. You wondered if that was where she was hiding the rest of your clothes. You felt very strange standing in your bare feet, as though your heels had helped you maintain some semblance of control. You remembered thinking earlier that a professional woman always wears heels. Which meant you were no longer a professional woman. You were a scared little girl now, a scared and very naked little girl, who didn't even have shoes. Your purse was back at your desk, far across the lobby and the offices beyond. You truly felt that you had nothing, and to get some shred of dignity back you needed to make Marisa happy. "So, what do you want me to do? If you want to see me streak the office, now would be the time," you tried to joke. "Actually," she responded, "all I really wanted was for you to be standing in my office in your birthday suit, looking totally defeated. You don't think too much of me, even though I never did anything to you, at least before tonight. You sit there in your power business suit and think of me as nothing because I'm walking around in a custodial suit. Well, now you're in a very different suit and I bet you'd give anything to be wearing my custodial clothes right about now." She looked you over again. "Or any clothes." She smirked. You realized Marisa was a lot smarter than you had given her credit for--something you should have noticed earlier given the current circumstances. Your head was too buzzed from your continued exposure to think about whether she was right, but you knew what to say. "I'm sorry I treated you that way," you said, trying to sound sincere. "I was wrong." "See?" she responded, "That's basically all I wanted." "So I can have my clothes back?" you breathlessly asked, hoping beyond hope that this was over. "Not yet," Marisa replied. "I said 'basically all.' I need to mop the lobby floor before I head out. I figured you could do it for me." You quickly imagined yourself mopping the lowly lit lobby in your birthday suit and you cringed. Marisa clearly knew what you were thinking because she responded to the unanswered question. "No reason you have to mop it buck naked," she said, completely catching you off-guard. "I have a custodial shirt that should fit over those large melons of yours." The shock nearly brought on another orgasm, which she didn't notice since she had walked into a back room, coming back seconds later with a blue shirt in her hands. "Now, all you have to do is ask for it nicely," she explained. "Please, Marisa, may I have that shirt?" you replied immediately. "Not nicely enough," she said, shaking her head. "Make it clear to me how badly you want it." You took a deep breath. "Marisa, I know I've treated you badly in the past, and for no reason. Tonight you have put me in my place. I have now been stuck completely and totally naked for over an hour here at our office, and would be eternally grateful if you could let me have that shirt to cover myself with." "Of course," Marisa said, and handed you the shirt. You threw your right arm in the sleeve and pulled the garment around you to get your left arm in as well. It smelled like a dozen cleaning solutions but you didn't care. After having been totally nude and exposed this evening it felt like a designer gown. Until you went to button it up. That's when you noticed that all the buttons were gone. "Yeah," Marisa sighed, "sorry about that. It was the only one I could find." You held it together, one hand at your breasts and the other in front of your pussy. For a moment you were covered up, and it felt wonderful. Then Marisa spoke. "Only problem, Ms. Babson, is that mopping is a two-handed job. But you'll figure it out. Let me get you your mop and bucket." She again walked to a back room, returning shortly rolling a soapy bucket with a mop in it. At this point you realized Marisa had had this all setup for you: the no-button shirt and the mop and bucket ready to roll. And that probably meant she had no intention of having mopping being the only thing you'd have to do to earn your clothes back. "Anytime now," she observed. You reached out and grabbed the mop with both hands; as you did, the shirt instantly sprung open. It was so big it nearly fell off your shoulders, and you were exposed again. You let go of the mop to pull it closed but Marisa had no interest in that happening. "Hands on the mop, custodian," she said, authority in her voice. You reached again for the mop with both hands and the shirt reopened, your tits and snatch bare and exposed again. But as you rolled the mop-bucket back into the low-lit lobby--looking even more obscene with your breasts and pussy exposed from behind the wide-open custodial shirt--the thought you had just had about Marisa was gnawing at you. 'This isn't over. What else will she want me to do? How else will she bring me down?' Suddenly the lobby lights were made very bright. You swung around--as the shirt billowed around you--you saw Marisa leaning against the wall by the dimmer. She had you in a spotlight now. And you knew you were right: She had no intention of making this easy on you. As you pulled the mop from the bucket (you hadn't mopped anything in years but you figured it couldn't be that hard), you knew the evening could only get worse. And you were right. As you began to mop, you heard Marisa's voice loudly from across the lobby. "That shirt looks ridiculous on you. Way too big. And without buttons it just looks obscene. Let me have it back." You looked up at her to see if she was joking. She was not even smiling and had reached her hand out for you to bring it over to her. You considered making a run for it when you noticed she was standing near the door that led back to your office, where your purse and keys were. "Please..." you whimpered. "Now," Marisa commanded. You repositioned the mop and walked over to her, slowly and painfully noticing the cold lobby tile under your bare feet. You held the shirt closed as you did, enjoying the brief covering for one last moment. Seconds later you stood in front of her, her hand still outstretched. "Turn around," she ordered. You did so, facing away from her. Suddenly the shirt was ripped off your back--the sides you'd been holding together pulled violently from between your fingers--and you were once again standing totally naked in the building lobby. "Guess you are gonna mop this thing in your birthday suit after all," she said behind you. With that she gave your ass a very firm swat which took your breath away for a second. "Now get to work." And you knew your evening with Marisa was far from over.