2 comments/ 107761 views/ 1 favorites A Woman's Journal (Month 13) By: HarleyFatboy1 If you are reading this series for the first time, it is an ongoing story that started with A BusinessWoman's Journal April/May'10. It continues month by month to this recent posting. I hope you enjoy it. April 2011 Friday, April 1, 2011 (April Fool's Day) This is without a doubt the most memorable and sexually expanding April Fool's Day of my life, or for that matter, any day of my life. It all started with an invitation from Mr. Von Elder to join him for lunch at his exclusive men's club. I remembered what happened the first time (See Journal entry for January 26, 2011) This time I arrived at the Spanker Club with Mr. Von Elder, but before we were escorted into the dining area, Mr. Von Elder handed me a note and told me to go into the Ladies Room and follow the directions as written down by him. My trepidation and anxiety took over as I walked down the sunken maple lined walls of the hallway. I turned the beautifully sculpted shiny brass door handle and entered the subdued elegance of the Ladies Room. The over stuffed divan inside the first room with small cosmetic tables and white marble tops arranged along one wall with intricately designed mirrors contrasted with the sexual depravity of the note that I was about to read. On the other wall were four large three way mirrors providing a front and side view for all of us women wanting to check out how we look. I sat down on the divan and apprehensively opened the note. With a lump the size of Texas in my throat I read these words: Before joining us for lunch you are to remove all of your clothing other than your jacket, panties and heels. Once you have done this you are to hand your discarded clothes to Michael, the maitre'd, And he will prepare you for your lunch. Immediately I wondered whom else I was joining for lunch and how else am I being prepared, as I will be almost naked? Ever since I dared Mr. Von Elder and Linda that I could take anything that they could dish out, I was constantly being put into revealing and/or humiliating situations, but to this point I had been steadfast in my determination to not cave. I hesitantly took off my new rose-colored suede jacket and hung it on a hook by one of the cosmetic tables. I then removed my white and pink striped tailored blouse along with my black pencil skirt. I guess as a way to delay my uncovered walk down the halls and into the dining room of The Spanker Club, I took the time to fold my blouse and skirt. With my heart beating out of my chest the entire time, I then undid my suspender clips and rolled my stockings down my legs and off of my feet. With a big inhale of air I removed my bra and suspender belt tucking these along with my stockings between my folded blouse and skirt. I put my jacket back on and stepped in front of the 3-way mirror. When buttoned, my jacket barely covered my awakening nipples although I was pleasantly surprised to see that length wise it was very similar to a mini skirt. "Maybe this won't be so bad." I thought to myself I buttoned the jacket and with an even bigger inhale of air; I tentatively placed my hand on the brass handle of the door and gave it a twist. Fully expecting a crowd to have formed awaiting my appearance, I was relieved to only see Michael standing in the hallway waiting for me. I handed him my clothes, which he placed into a large linen bag, and started towards the dining room. My entire body was vibrating just at the realization that I was walking through the most exclusive men's club in the Midwest in just a jacket that barely covered my naked breasts and teeny rose colored panties. At least my panties coordinated with my jacket, I sardonically thought to myself. Michael stopped me from proceeding with a simple clearing of his throat and his words, "Pardon me, Ms. Harley, but I am to prepare you before you join your dining partners." He asked me to place my hands together behind my back and using a beautifully designed silk scarf he expertly tied my wrists together. "How fabulous!" I thought sarcastically, as the positioning of my hands behind my back only served to create gaps in the opening of my jacket allowing my very perky and excited nipples to peek out from their previous concealment. Michael then led me to a different dining room that had the same masculine wood and leather décor as the large one, but was a bit more exclusive offering only 8 leather lined booths for members to dine in. As I was led past the first three booths containing diners made up mostly of men, I noticed their looks that saw me more of a novelty than a totally unexpected display of female flesh. As we approached the fourth booth I immediately recognized Ms. Court sitting next to Mr. Von Elder wearing another form fitted gray with chalk pin striped men's tailored suit. Instead of a blouse, she was wearing a matching vest revealing a jeweled miniature pair of handcuffs as her necklace along with a seductive view of her beautifully formed breasts and very alert nipples. My vibrating intensified as I noted the complete look of satisfaction on both of their faces. Ms. Court slid out of the booth and approached me with something in her hand. She gave me a big hug pressing her entire body against my nakedness whispering to me how absolutely amazing I looked. She then turned me around and attached a beautifully bejeweled pink leather collar around my neck with a sterling silver loop for a leash on it. Leading me to the booth, she took a hold of both shoulders of my jacket and pulled them down my back, in essence, turning it into a makeshift straightjacket as now I was completely topless except for where my jacket was still buttoned, now low on my waist. My already erect nipples popped fully to attention from the unexpected stimulation of being stripped in full view of numerous strangers and Mr. Von Elder. I was so distracted by my booth-sitting voyeurs that Ms. Court easily sat me down and slid me towards the center of the booth situating me between her and Mr. Von Horn. Ms. Court quickly attached a pink ball gag over my mouth while I still watched the other diners as they watched me. "It looks like I won't be eating too much." I thought to myself, as I tasted the rubber of the ball gag. The vibrations in my body continued to intensify. Ms. Court wrapped her arm around my shoulders allowing her to seductively tweak both of my already aroused nipples at the same time. They immediately responded to her touch by swelling until they throbbed with desire and anticipation for more. When I thought that I couldn't take anymore and moaned wantonly into my ball gag, she expertly attached nipple clamps to my protruding sexual sensors. I screamed into my gag as the mixture of pain and pleasure pushed me to the edge of consciousness. The clamps were attached to an exquisitely wrought silver chain adding a contradictory touch of class to the raw sexuality of the nipple clamps. Ms. Court knew that as long as I remained sexually excited that the pain would serve to confuse my senses enough to have my body feel nothing but pleasure. Ms. Court along with Mr. Von Elder placed their hands on the inside of my goose bumped thighs sliding them almost to my nylon covered kitty and then back down again. Ms. Court circled the nipple clamps with her fingers while Mr. Von Horn slid his hand right up against my moistening lips. All I could do was to sit there looking at the same faces of the strangers directly across from us as they in turn were looking at me. I had no sense of impropriety or lewdness as all of my faculties were focused on the exquisite and contradictory sensations coursing through me. As Ms. Court continued to play with my breasts and nipples, I unconsciously clamped my thighs around Mr. Von Elder's hand forcing it to make full contact with my now wet nylon crotch. I thrust my hips forward and attempted to hump his hand without much success. Mr. Von Elder easily recognized my extreme desire for release whispering to me, "Just open wide, my dear." I heard his directions from a long distance off, but instantly spread my legs wide apart as he found my now protruding nub through the thin nylon of my panties. Within a matter of seconds as he massaged my tiny pearl I tensed every muscle in my body and with a loud but muffled groan of satisfaction a violent spasm rocked my entire frame shaking the table and causing the water glasses to spill most of their contents. I could not hold still as I performed the booth bugaloo between my two hosts. One of my voyeurs even applauded with delight at my display of total abandon. Then it was Ms. Court's turn as she also located my extended kernel with her long thin fingers and began to play a delectable rhapsody of erotic notes between my legs. I felt her hand move up the inside of my very upper thigh tracing the elastic of my panties along the inside of my legs and then upon finding the top of my bikinis she slipped her fingers down the front dipping them into my pool of liquid lust. She spread my joy juice around and over my female nub making me scream with pleasure into my mouth gag as she rolled the hardened flesh between her fingers. I again tensed myself for the inevitable as another violent wave of convulsions took over. My legs went in every direction all at once as the most incredible orgasm that I have ever felt took hold of me. My gasps were spraying saliva from each side of the ball gag and the chain strung between my nipples was swinging so violently that I was repeatedly hit in the face by it. I guess only another woman can possibly know the exact method to bring my pot to boil. Finally as total exhaustion came over me, Ms. Court removed the ball gag and silk tie, while the maitre'd brought us all a round of drinks, a large tray of fruit and cheese along with assorted breads and crackers. I eat like a recovering anorexic completely oblivious to my continued nakedness as my jacket was now completely off and bunched behind my back. As we were finishing, Mr. Von Elder gave me a hug with one arm around my body, while applying a very pleasant kiss on the side of my cheek. As he got up to leave, his hand slid down my back giving my bottom a very nice little squeeze and he said, "April Fool's, my dear Ms. Harley." Soon after he left, Michael reappeared with my clothes and Ms. Court accompanied me into the Ladies Room holding the strap to my leash while leading me down the hall providing an unexpected eye candy to many of the club's members. As she tenderly removed the nipple clamps she gave each one a kiss that sent shivers deep inside my erogenous zone. As I attempted to compose myself she again slid her hand down the front of my panties telling me how much she loves the feel of my slickness. "Not everyone self lubricates as completely as you do." She informed me and pushed her forefinger well into me. I gasped in response to the delectable invasion as I took a hold of her shoulders moving my legs apart to give her better access. As she slid a second finger into my well-oiled aperture I began to move my pelvis back and forth performing a very lewd form of grind without the bump on her exploring hand. It took very little time as I again succumbed to the call of erotic nature grabbing hold of Ms. Court as my body spasmed for the third time within the last 45 minutes. As Ms. Court removed her fingers and hand from my panties, I found myself again sitting on the divan in a similar posture to when this all started. Ms. Court sat down beside me with her arms placed on my lower back as she played with the elastic waistband of my panties. "Do you remember the day that we met in the mall parking structure stairwell?" she asked me. I nodded. "It undoubtedly was one of the best moments of my life." She continued wrapping both arms around me pressing her long and lithe body up against my still very erect nipples. I had to agree wholeheartedly as I pressed back into her. She took a hold of my leash and the linen bag that Michael had handed her on the way into the ladies lounge and with a tug walked me out of the club and down the sidewalk to her waiting limo. I certainly turned a few heads on the street today and yet it all felt so natural with Ms. Court. Once we were inside her car, she allowed me to get dressed retrieving her gag and leash and dropped me back at my office. As I sit alone on my bed writing this latest entry to my journal I can't help but touch myself in the same places as Ms. Court as I enthusiastically recall every incredible sensation of this day. Both Mr. Von Elder and Ms. Court thoroughly bring out my wild side. Monday, April 11, 2011 Today I met with Mr. Mayhew to review his 2010 report. On the way I thought about how complex his inner struggles were with having a fetishlike interest in my panties and outdoor exposure, while at the same time trying to maintain a modicum of composure and control. With the beautiful weather it seemed a perfect time to embarrass him instead of me. It was one of those rare days in early Spring where the temperatures hit 70 plus and everyone wants to be outside. We quickly went over Mr. Mayhew's report particularly since he rarely wants to spend the time with me reviewing a report. I knew that he had other plans, but this time I would control his response instead of him controlling mine. As he is in the cosmetic industry I asked if they made any kind of cream or lotion that would help remove or lessen the effects of scar tissue. I had had my appendix removed in my teens and my children were delivered via C-section, so I pretended to be concerned about my scars along with a method to lessen their visibility. Although keeping my clothes on would be a big step in that direction, but what fun is that. Mr. Mayhew said that they did manufacture an expensive cream that could lessen the effects of surgical scars, and he happened to be carrying a sample with him, as he had a habit of carrying samples of all of his company's products. I took Mr. Mayhew to a local park with a long walking path that was quite busy as many business people were trying to enjoy the weather during their lunch hour. As we walked down a path about 500 yards from the parking lot I directed him to a fallen tree. As it was damp from an overnight shower that preceded the warm front we were now enjoying, he pulled a red rain jacket from his cosmetic bag and hung it over the tree for me to sit on. He then took a sample tube of the scar remover crème and handed it to me. In the past this is where he always directed me to remove my dress or skirt, but it was my show. I had worn a khaki colored shirtdress and with Mr. Mayhew standing right alongside of me I reached down to my bottom button and unbuttoned it. Mr. Mayhew's reaction was priceless, as he didn't know whether to stop me or watch me. I didn't give his mind a change to decide as I unbuttoned the second and third button exposing my bare legs to the seductive V formed by my crossed legs. My appendix scar runs vertically along my right lower abdomen, and my C-section scar is a small indentation that usually is covered by the top elastic of my panties unless they are extremely low cut. I casually explained to Mr. Mayhew that I needed to unbutton my dress to my waist in order to apply the crème. It seems that he is entirely different when a woman is in control as he stammered something about someone seeing us with my dress undone. I ignored his admonitions and continued the unbuttoning process until my dress was open to the gold belt that hung around my waist. The full realization of what I was doing sent a shutter through my body that was a mixture of anxiety and unexpected excitement. What is it about forced or in this case unforced exposure that causes my body to react so deliciously? Ok, Ok, I am a latent exhibitionist. Mr. Mayhew grew more uncomfortable with my exposure although by the evident bulge in his pants part of him was enjoying the show. A businessman enjoying the fabulous weather walked our way and with Mr. Mayhew frozen in place I said "Hi" and explained how I was trying to get a little sun. I still can't decide which reaction I enjoyed more: Mr. Mayhew's look of total mortification or the businessman's look of voyeuristic pleasure. I have to admit however that my winter pale skin and red goose bumps didn't exactly create the perfect Spring time exhibition. As the park was now pretty much left to ourselves, I opened the tube of scar cream. I put a little dab of cream on my fingers and began to rub it on my appendix scar. The ointment was nice and cool causing a wonderful sensation on my skin. Mr. Mayhew remained speechless and fully attentive to the positioning of my fingers along my lower abdomen. I remarked at how cool and creamy the ointment felt against my skin and noticed a little shudder pass through him. When it was time to do my C-section scar I put another dab of ointment on my finger and pulled the top of my panties away from my abdomen. Mr. Mayhew's eyes widened in response as his view now included my previously nylon covered trim. It was amusing for me to remember the first time that I was with Mr. Mayhew when he demanded that I remove my skirt as he took photos of me wearing panties outdoors just a short distance from our company picnic, and how mortified I felt when I inadvertently had an orgasm while I was with him. Now here I was again outdoors with my panties on display, but this time I was intentionally going to touch myself in front of him and hope for a similar reaction. What a difference a matter of a year can make in a person's comfort level. I rubbed the cream on my scar just inside the top of my panties, and as I felt the ointment soak into my skin I moved my fingers further down over my mound visibly causing a bulge to form on the outside of the light blue fabric. Mr. Mayhew let out a low sigh as I spread my legs further apart allowing my fingers to explore the lower reaches of my panties. Mr. Mayhew was becoming quite uncomfortable as he attempted to not touch himself on his third leg, although his efforts were becoming almost futile. He constantly was shifting his position as well as rubbing his thighs together. My desire to have Mr. Mayhew literally explode in his pants easily replaced any hesitancy that I had about masturbating outside, and it seems that I have grown quite accustomed to open displays of eroticism lately. My bulge descended to the bottom of my panties as my fingers found my very eager and moist love knuckle. I moved my legs further apart and started to rub myself in earnest in my attempt to further torture Mr. Mayhew's conflicting sense of prim and proper and his now uncontrolled fetishistic desire to watch my demonstration of self gratification. I pushed my pelvis forward off the fallen tree maintaining my balance with just my lower back causing my dress to rise further up my torso. My finger filled crotch was pointed directly at Mr. Mayhew as I gyrated to a rhythm that I first learned at 18. Mr. Mayhew's reaction was so perfect as he moaned loudly, "Oh my God" when the first orgasmic spasm took over my body. I found myself leaning forward as I buried two fingers deep inside my unresisting cavity of earthly delights. A Woman's Journal (Month 13) The heavenly spasms rocked me back and forth as my bottom pounded against the tree. Although my eyes continuously wanted to roll up inside of my head I struggled to maintain my focus on Mr. Mayhew watching his unsuccessful attempt to keep from spewing his cream as he grabbed his cloth covered member and squeezed himself. With a very satisfied smile on my face I heard Mr. Mayhew groan and watched him stand up as he grabbed at his groin and a large area of moisture formed on his crotch. The look of embarrassment and mortification on his face was well worth my indecent exposure and I relished the memory of it as I drove back to S&M. Score one for the no longer innocent customer service rep and the orgasm wasn't bad either. Tuesday, April 19, 2011 Today I lost Mr. Mayhew to Ms. Spencer which as I write my recollection of the events seems to be exactly as it should be. I was working late tonight when I heard some unusual sounds coming from our large utility closet at work. The closet is more the size of a small room as it contains all of our supplies along with our phone equipment. I gingerly snuck to the closet door and listened. It sounded just like muffled cries along with what was clearly Ms. Spencer's voice telling someone to keep quiet. As Ms. Spencer had recently accepted the position of a customer liaison like myself, it was surprising to hear her late at the office. Although what and whom she was doing in the supply closet had my curiosity more than piqued. I slowly opened the door and saw a man tied to the overhead pipes with his toes just barely touching the ground. His mouth was taped with packing tape and he was wearing nothing but a teeny pair of panties, that when he would swing slightly around, clearly did not cover his very excited male part. Ms. Spencer was applying a large spanking paddle to the man's panty clad bottom while belittling him for being a bad little boy along with ridiculing him for wearing women's underwear. It was quite obvious that both of them were enjoying themselves, as they were completely oblivious to my presence of a mere 12 feet away. As the man swung around again to face Ms. Spencer, I looked at his face and couldn't stop my reaction as I cried out, "Mr. Mayhew!" Ms. Spencer immediately turned to me. But instead of reacting with embarrassment or any aggression, she simply stated, "I was going to request to have Mr. Mayhew transferred to me tomorrow. I hope you don't mind?" I was completely dumbfounded but had enough presence of mind to see that by the expression on Mr. Mayhew's face, he was in agreement. My initial reaction was to wonder what I had done wrong. Maybe my recent park exhibition was too much, however, as I was soon to observe, Ms. Spencer was the logical replacement; and exactly what Mr. Mayhew's tortured soul required. I found myself quite intoxicated by the activity going on in our supply room and consented to Ms. Spencer's wish as long as I could give him one little whack on his tight little bottom. Ms. Spencer was more than happy to allow me my indulgence. As I took the paddle from her and swung my arm back to administer the blow, I was able to notice the details in Mr. Mayhew's panties and realized immediately that they were my own. It was curious to realize my response to seeing a man wearing a pair of panties, particularly my own. I would have thought that I would be repulsed by the idea, but instead I found it sexy to see a slender and toned male body with nothing on but a teeny pair of thin nylon panties. Mr. Mayhew was meticulously shaven from head to foot, which only added to the allure of the scene before me. I enjoyed seeing how my panties barely covered his taut bottom, which displayed a dark red color through the nylon fabric as a result of the paddles assault to his posterior. And the sight of his erection protruding well above the delicate stitching of the waistband was quite intoxicating. I found myself wanting to just stand there and luxuriate in the utter kinkiness of the entire situation. I slowly composed myself, although the initial indications of becoming sexually aroused were taking over my body, and gave him an extra hard smack across his bottom watching him swing around facing the two of us with his very erect reaction pointing northward well out of the confines of its nylon enclosure. Ms. Spencer, who never seems to miss anything, asked if I wanted to stay and help with the lesson. Although my logical and proper mind started to say, "No, thank you", my more than curious side responded, "Why not" instead. Ms. Spencer told me that Mr. Mayhew has a sexual side of himself that he finds abhorrent, however by adding the element of punishment, it allows him to achieve orgasm without belittling himself. Leave it to Ms. Spencer to figure this out in a matter of weeks, as I was still stuffing my worn panties into his pockets months after having him as my client. Ms. Spencer asked me if I would like to help Mr. Mayhew release his demons. I wasn't sure what that meant, but replied that I would be happy to help out my ex-client. She told me to pull his or my panties down, which I enjoyed doing much to my surprise. Then she instructed me to take a hold of his erection squeezing it tightly in the palm of my hand. I had never touched a man's penis before other than my husband's, and yet I felt no hesitation as I took a firm grip with my right hand on Mr. Mayhew's shaft. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing through his stiff appendage. Ms. Spencer told me to watch his body as she continued to swat his bare bottom with her paddle. As Mr. Mayhew's entire body tensed I could feel a strong throbbing through the warm cylinder of flesh gripped between my fingers. Ms. Spencer instructed me to take my other hand and push my fingers firmly against his smooth scrotum. As I did this, Mr. Mayhew flung his head back, and pushed his pelvis forward. Instinctively, I pushed harder against his scrotum while at the same time released my grip slightly on his quivering organ as a glorious stream of white liquid erupted from the head landing almost 8 feet from where I was standing. As I quickly repeated my firm gripping and releasing and simultaneously pushing on the firm ridge between his legs, another and another and another stream of liquid squirted from his loaded gun, each landing closer and closer to his dangling toes as well as my nylon panties wrapped around his ankles. I never realized how utterly primal and sensual it is to watch a man ejaculate. I found myself quite stimulated as a warm flush of sexual energy invaded my skin evoking unexpected moisture between my own legs. I almost hate to admit this, but I was salivating as I watched Mr. Mayhew release his pent up craving. It was quite tempting to me to slip my mouth around one of his eruptions to taste the creamy goo spurting across the floor. I purposely caught a small splash of his juice in my hand and licked it, enjoying the salty musky taste of his male libido. The entire experience was so very erotic and not surprisingly had occurred within the confines of our own offices. As I tingled with continued excitement, watching Mr. Mayhew's spent body hang exhausted from his bonds. Ms. Spencer talked to him like a caring guardian telling him what a good job he had done and how proud she was of him. I decided that it was probably a good time to leave giving Ms. Spencer a hug and wishing Mr. Mayhew well taking another long look at his hanging nude body. Who would have known? I felt a bit dejected that Mr. Mayhew was no longer my client, particularly with this latest revelation, but I knew that Ms. Spencer was ideally suited to fulfill his needs. At least I now know what he did with my used panties. Monday, April 25, 2011 A new employee started today by the name of Jamie Understreet. He was hired to be an investment analyst for the firm. He is tall and lean with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He is very soft spoken and private, but something about him attracts me. I have the strongest sense that he is a bit similar to myself i.e. a bit submissive. Tuesday -- Thursday, April 26-28th, 2011 Every day I have made it a point to drop into Jamie's cubicle and say "Hi". I find myself drawn to him, but can't understand why. He is very good looking, however he shows no energy or dynamism. He almost sneaks into the office every morning, goes to his cubicle, and does his work. He never interacts with the rest of us or shares anything. It is almost as if he doesn't exist. According to Linda, he is phenomenal at his job and in just one week has improved S&M's entire investment portfolio and returns, which will undoubtedly attract more clients and make all of our jobs easier. A Woman's Journal (Month 01-02) I am a middle-aged married woman and mother of two. My husband has very strict ideas as to how a wife and mother should dress and act leaving me feeling repressed and insecure. Although I find myself adhering to his ideals, I long for the freedom to be myself. I am your typical Irish lass with extremely thick dark brown hair that I wear short as I have a distinctive streak of gray like a skunk tail in the front. I think that it makes me look a little like a rock star, although my husband keeps telling me to dye it. One of my many little rebellious responses to his edicts. I have deep brown eyes partially framed by thick eyebrows; another identifying feature of an Irish woman. I am of medium height and have kept myself in good shape as I wear a size 4 and weigh around 110 lbs. For my height my legs are long and shapely and reach all of the way to the ground. :-) I love to wear high heels as they make me look taller as well as display my round booty, although a wife and mother are not supposed to look sexy. Another Irish trait is my white and sun freckled skin, which never tans, but likes to turn red when exposed to the sun. I have always had a strong desire to be sexy and to be seen by others as sexy. It seems that the same style of dress that attracted my husband to me is now considered inappropriate for a wife and mother. I used to love to show off and attract the attention of others, but for too many years I might as well have been a follower of Islam. I have always had very active fantasies of what might be considered kinky situations that for all practical purposes have gone completely and utterly unfulfilled. My husband travels a lot for a living, which leaves me alone with our children for long stretches of time. I am a bit sad to admit that I enjoy the time away from him. The economy has hit us hard like many people and we have found that we can no longer make it on one income. Thankfully our children are old enough to spend time on their own, so it was an easy decision for us that I should go back to work. What I never expected was to find myself in a work environment that allowed my fantasies to come true. The changes in my life have been so dramatic that I decided to keep a journal of the events. A Business Woman's Journal April 2010 Wednesday, April 7, 2010 S&M BANK has a reputation for being very prestigious, somewhat old-fashioned, and it is very difficult to get a job with them due to their stringent interview process. They only accept banking clients that can demonstrate $25 million or more in liquid assets. As a result they are very particular about who they hire to interact with their clients as customer liaisons. The rumor was that this firm hired mostly women who fit a certain profile along with height and weight requirements, which today is essentially illegal. It seems that they got away with it due to a pay scale that was 30% better than any one else in the industry, a very lucrative severance package should you be let go, along with an iron clad confidentiality agreement. These women were meticulously profiled and trained after which they were assigned specific clients that fit their personality. They were essentially on call 24/7 for these assigned clients. I always noticed the women who worked there when I would have lunch in the area as they all wore similar outfits, i.e. crisp white or light blue cotton tailored blouses along with black, navy blue, or dark gray pencil skirts with matching 4 1/2 inch heels. They always looked so professional and I dreamed for months of becoming one of them. I also sensed an understated sexuality in their demeanor and attitude, and found myself craving the attention that they garnered for themselves. I overheard a discussion between two of the woman from S&M that they were looking for more trainees and today I submitted my resume. I am sure that if times were not so difficult for us financially right now, my husband would have never allowed me to apply, since he feels that the type of women that work at S&M are too provocative. It is very likely that I could have found work at some other firm, but this was my chance to change my dull existence. Thursday, April 29, 2010 I was called in to interview today. I met with a Ms. Spencer, who is the office manager. She was dressed similar to the other woman in the company, but in a full gray pin striped suit as opposed to a blouse and skirt. She is about 5'7", very well groomed, in very good shape for a woman in her 50's, which she displays by wearing well-fitted clothes. She has dark brown hair much like my own with brown eyes that seem to be able to see into your thoughts. Although she is quite good looking, she carries a permanent scowl on her face, which detracts from her looks. It is almost as if she is constantly displeased. The interview was a bit unusual as she spent more time asking me about my personal habits and style as opposed to my work experience. It seemed that she was more interested in how I looked and what kind of personality I had than my employment history and experience. I am still curious about her question to me, "Do you always obey your superiors or do you question authority?" I assured her that I always obey, as it has always been very difficult for me to directly stand up for myself. I was raised to never question authority regardless of my own feelings about what I was told to do. That sense of sexuality that I noted when around the employees of S&M was quite prominent during my time in the Bank as well as during my interview. It was like foreplay as Ms. Spencer delved into my suppressed feelings with her very personal questions pushing the limits of my comfort zone while I tried to answer her. I find the feeling to be a bit uncomfortable, as I have never been allowed to be a very sexual person, although I do have very active fantasies, and this sexual sensation caused a vibration throughout my entire body. It is almost seductive to the point that I must have this job. I had a particularly intense orgasm tonight while masturbating. I know that it is the energy from my interview today at S&M. May 2010 Friday, April 30, 2010 I received a call from Ms. Spencer letting me know that I got the job and that I start first thing Monday morning. My husband is not very happy, however I am absolutely ecstatic. That same energy that resulted in my intense orgasm the other night ran through my body when I was told the news. Sunday, May 2, 2010 I start my new job tomorrow and have two new blouses and skirts that fit the style of the women that I have seen who work at S&M. I am in between sizes right now, so my skirts are a little tight and clearly show my panty line and suspender welts. Another little rebellion for me has been my desire to wear stockings instead of pantyhose. Hopefully this won't be an issue i.e. at least until I lose a little weight. I am glad that my husband was out of town, so I could feel free to purchase the type of outfits that I have always wanted to wear. Monday, May 3, 2010 I have begun my new job at S&M and could not be happier. My entire first day was spent in employee orientation with Ms. Spencer, who focused on a very strict dress code i.e. the aforementioned blouses, skirts and heels, but also a requirement to wear stockings as opposed to pantyhose. "How perfect," I thought to myself. She also recommended that we wear white, beige, or black lingerie, although it was not a requirement for employment. Isn't it a bit unusual for a company to recommend a female's undergarments? Hopefully my recent purchase of colored and patterned panties doesn't cause any problems, although why would anyone know what color panties I have on? We are required to be at our desks (No cubicles) precisely at 7:45, at which time Ms. Spencer walks among us and checks us for proper attire. It is almost what I would imagine a military "muster" to be like. She seems to be able to tell at a quick glance whether we are dressed appropriately or not. Our desks are arranged in two rows along the far wall of the first floor of the bank, which has a three-story ceiling. The ceiling is beautifully painted to look like the sky with clouds and I find it very difficult to not sit in my chair and just stare at it. Ms. Spencer has an office along the other wall, and Mr. Von Elder's (The big boss) office is on the top floor of the building. The entire building is located on the highest point of the downtown area and subsequently looks out over most of the city. Our orientation taught us the S&M way to answer the phone, respond to emails, as well as how to talk to our assigned clients. Our skirts must be just above the knee to allow us movement, but not to cause any distractions in the office. We are to conduct ourselves as professional women always. We do occasionally "earn" casual days when we are allowed to wear less businesslike attire. It is a decision of Mr. Von Elder's when these days occur. I guess that they are always on a Friday and rarely when clients are expected in the office. S&M is not a typical bank with tellers and walk in customers. Our clients are all received by appointment and treated as well respected dignitaries. We were taught that our primary responsibility is to satisfy their needs and desires. Don't ask questions and just do as you are told. I should fit in quite well considering. I was required to sign a ten-page document regarding proper conduct and performance standards, which included our dress code. It also referred to disciplinary techniques that I had to sign a waiver for. And lastly it included a confidentiality statement that essentially told me to never discuss the firm outside of the office to anybody. I wonder if keeping a Journal falls into this category? My husband found all of this odd, but I reminded him that we needed the extra paycheck. (And I really want this job.) I probably should have read the entire agreement, but everyone here seems to adhere to the rules without any objections. The office itself is almost in a time warp from the Fifties with our dress code and lack of cubicle walls, but I actually find it refreshing, as it seems to eliminate any cliquish type of behavior amongst us women. I trained with a wonderful woman, Linda, whom I know will become a close friend of mine. She is like an Amazon warrior to me. In heels she stands over 6' tall, has a very muscular shape for a woman but is well proportioned with an angular and beautiful face, long flowing auburn hair, and deep blue eyes. Her body was made for our tight fitting skirts and blouses. She seems so self-assured and confident. If only some of that would rub off on me. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday May 4-7, 2010 We are being trained on all aspects of the banking industry along with its various forms and applications. We were given written tests after every training segment, which really adds to the stress of this job. This Friday, 2 trainees were let go due to their poor test scores. We were told that by the end of our probationary period, we should be quite competent as customer liaisons and be ready to work with clients. They expect only 10% of us to make it through our probationary period. Wednesday, May 12, 2010 Today Linda was called into Ms. Spencer's office for a dress code violation and when she returned 30 minutes later her eyes were red and she was out of breath. She passed me on the way to the ladies room brushing her hand across her bottom as if she had been spanked. How ridiculous, right? Linda and I are becoming very close friends, although she is always pushing me to loosen up. She didn't reappear for another 20 minutes, but seemed to be composed and back to her normal self. Friday, May 14, 2010. We were given various personality tests today and two more trainees were let go. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, May 17-21, 2010 This week was like the one prior with more training and tests. Our personality profiles came back and three more trainees were let go on Friday. We are down to 3 trainees from the 10 that were originally hired. Tuesday, May 25, 2010 I can't believe that I was late to work today. I arrived just as Ms. Spencer was completing her morning inspection. She just glared at me and about 10 minutes later I received an invitation on my ecalendar to meet with her promptly at 9:30. I was horrified. I am still on probation and was sure that I might be dismissed. At 9:30 I went to her office and knocked on her closed door. I heard her say, "Enter" in a most unpleasant voice. She informed me that I had been late and that it was not acceptable behavior for any employee of the firm, particularly one who is still on probation. I pleaded with her saying that I loved my job and that I would do anything to keep it. She told me that she liked me and thus would offer an alternative disciplinary action to simply letting me go. Shockingly she told me to take off my skirt. I asked her what she had said and she replied sternly, "You heard me the first time". I very hesitantly reached to the side of my dark gray summer weight wool skirt and undid the clasp and zipper. While she glared at me the entire time, I slipped my skirt down my legs and let it drop to the floor whereupon I stepped out of it. I was now standing in front of her in just my light blue cotton blouse, which barely covered my black polka dot string bikini panties leaving my legs completely uncovered. I was told to bend over, while Ms. Spencer put her hand on my lower back as if to steady herself. I then sensed this pause as if everything had stopped, but in fact she was swinging her other hand and with a loud smack it landed on my sheer nylon covered bottom. I winced in pain and shock just as the second smack hit my bottom. I bit my lips to keep from screeching out in pain, as I didn't want my co-workers to know what was going on. After each whack she gave me an almost imperceptible squeeze on my bottom. I then was given one more smack and told that a proper lady does not wear polka dot panties particularly when they have a sheer back. She must know my husband. It stung terribly and felt so degrading as I rearranged my stockings. Then Ms. Spencer made a comment on how well trimmed my pubic area was and that she approved. What the f**k! I pulled my skirt back up my legs and asked her if she was finished. She actually smiled telling me to return to work and make sure that I wasn't late again. God, I masturbated again in the bathtub tonight recalling in detail the feel of her firm hand on my almost bare bottom. What is going on with me? Friday, May 28, 2010 Linda and I are the only two left from the original group of trainees. We have one week to go, but are quite assured that we made it. I can't tell you the sense of relief this gives me along with a strong feeling of anxiety. As if I am about to be pushed in directions that I never thought possible. (to be continued)