Dirty Pics Lead to Dirty Tricks Ch. 01

I wasn't pleased to get the email from the Human Resources Department. They wanted a head and shoulders photo to use in the announcement of my recent appointment as head of accounting. I always made a point of keeping my business life separate from my personal life and it irked me that they were insisting on a photo for publication. I emailed my husband and vented a little. Then, mischievously, I attached a file of naughty photos he had taken of me last weekend and I asked him facetiously, "perhaps I could send them one of these. Or maybe you might want to crop one to just a head-and-shoulders shot! LOL

I hit send and laughed to myself knowing he would enjoy a laugh from it. We always kidded about outrageous things and we liked to try to one-up the other with irreverent humor. It was our little rebellion against the image of an accountant married to a school teacher.

I waited a few minutes and when I didn't get an immediate answer. I sent him another note. "What's the matter Bad Boy? Cat got your tongue?"

Another moment passed and my inbox pinged and Peter responded. "Huh? What are you up to Babe?"

"Cute!" I typed back. "Didn't you open the attachment?"

"What attachment?"

Sure that he was giving me the gears I nonetheless flipped to my sent file to make sure I had included the attachment. Panic struck swiftly as I franticly scanned the messages. At the top of the list was the most recent one to Peter. Right beneath it was the one with the attachment. Inadvertently, I had hit 'reply' and sent the whole file of sexually explicit photos to HR instead of my husband. "Damn!" I groaned aloud. " How could I have been so careless!"

It took me thirty minutes to scramble into my clothes and race through the traffic to the office. The elevator to the sixth stopped at every floor and by the time the doors slid open my heart was pounding in my chest. My heels clicked rapidly along the terrazzo corridor until I reached Jane Reynolds office. Her Administrative Assistant, Margaret, greeted me pleasantly and only raised a quizzical look when I said I'd wait for Jane in her office. She probably knew that Jane and I were not friends but didn't feel she could object.

I had no idea how much time I'd have till Jane returned so I immediately went to her computer and tried to open her email. I tried desperately to guess her password and after several tries the lock out message came up and ended my attempts. I sat on her couch wringing my hands and rehearsing what I would say when she came back. The pictures were in a file so I'd just make an excuse and ask her to delete the message without opening it. I'd explain that it contained some sensitive corporate material that was highly confidential. In the interest of corporate security I'd watch her delete it and she'd never know what was in the file.

Jane and I were on the same level, middle management department heads and I felt she'd have to extend me the courtesy on that basis. I sat for twenty minutes waiting for her return and each minute seemed endless. Every negative possibility occurred to me and heightened my anxiety until I could no longer sit. I paced the floor and looked out the window, returned to the couch, sat in her chair briefly and generally felt my confidence level sink.

Jane is a bitch and we have had a combatively competitive relationship since we were both juniors in the company. It might be vanity but I always felt that it was because I was more attractive and certainly more outgoing than her, that she was frankly a bit jealous. She'd probably say I'm a flirt and got my promotion by playing up to the men. Whatever! It was important that I get the file off her machine and deleted before she was even aware of what was attached.

At that moment the door opened and Margaret apologised and relayed that Jane was tied up and would not be returning until after lunch. She promised to call me as soon as her boss was back and then stood holding the door open expectantly waiting for me to exit. Much as I did not want to leave knowing the file was on her computer, I gathered my things and left.

Thoughts of calling Peter and telling him what I had done gnawed at me but I just didn't want to upset him unnecessarily. There was still a very good chance that I could recoup the situation without him ever needing to find out. In truth, I was worried enough for both of us.

There was no sense in staying there in Jane's office further arousing Margaret's curiosity so I went up to my own office to wait. I couldn't settle to do any meaningful work and my mind kept conjuring up horrible scenarios that could embarrass my husband and I. Our sex life had never been 'vanilla' but it had always been private. We delighted in being outrageous in the bedroom while maintaining a very conservative image in public. His job demanded it and so did mine.

By noon I was pacing again. I'd called Margaret three times to see if Jane was back. The last time I was sure I heard her voice in the background but Margaret lied and said she hadn't returned. Unable to sit and wait I took the stairs down one flight and turned the corner just in time to see Jane coming out of her office. She looked up as I called out and the expression on her face said it all. She knew. She'd read the email and opened the attachment. The faint smirk of superiority painted her lips with the unmistakeably triumphant message of one who relishes control. There would be no compassionate quarter given, no 'shit happens' understanding between females, coworkers, or contemporaries. Any negotiation would be on her terms. Her eyes bore right through me and I felt the enmity of a malevolent competitor who resented my success because it challenged her own.

"Oh Madison," she snickered, "I'm really too busy right now. Why don't you call me later ... if you're not tied up. Or, you can take a seat and I'll call you in when I have a moment."

I could see Margaret's jaw drop a little with surprise at her boss's patronizing rudeness to a fellow manager. She shuffled her papers in an unnecessary show of preoccupation and kept her eyes down as she pretended not to be aware of what was going on.

"This will only take a minute," I protested weakly and wished immediately that I hadn't.

"I shouldn't be too long," she insisted. "Why don't you sit here and keep Margaret company?" With that she turned away and disappeared into her office.

Thirty minutes later her door opened and she summoned me inside. I was stressed to the point of shaking by then and she was obviously enjoying my discomfort.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" she began abruptly.

"I ... I made a mistake and sent an email that was supposed to go to my husband."

"Ohh," she cooed, in the tone of voice you'd use with a small child. "Why not just send it again?"

"That's not the point," I snapped. "I sent it to your email accidentally and I'd like you to just erase it."

"Well, I'd have to look at it first," she smiled. "I'd have to know what I was erasing."

"No ... it's personal, private. Just erase it without opening."

"Why don't you tell me what it is that is making you so nervous, so demanding."

"I'm sorry Jane, I ... I just need you to delete it. It's personal ...it's embarrassing."

"Why don't you tell me about it then? It seems like you're all tied up over this."

My jaw snapped shut and I glared across the desk at her. The gloating smile beaming back at me left no doubt that the double entendre was intended. The reference to being tied up was no accident. Several of the photos in the file showed me with my hands lashed to the headboard in our bedroom. They were part of Peter's fantasy and intended for only the two of us to ever see. So certain was I that no one else would ever look at them that I had posed with increasing lewdness until Peter and I became so aroused that we fell upon each other in a sexual frenzy. Those photos turned out to be far more explicit than either of us intended. But between consenting adults in the privacy of our own bedroom, we believed we were safe. Now, because of a momentary lapse where I hit reply instead of typing in my husband's private email, we were facing embarrassment at the hands of a vindictive woman.

She rocked back in her chair, smiling insolently, knowing I was in an emotional turmoil. There was no question she was enjoying the moment, more so because I was not.

"Now what did you want to say?"

"I want to ask you to delete the email I accidently sent to you."

"Which one was that?" she smiled sweetly making it as difficult for me as possible.

"The one with the attachment."

"Ohh. And what was in the attachment?"

"Please Jane. You know what was in the attachment. And you know I would never have sent it to you except by mistake!"

Jane's eyes narrowed into a calculating sneer. She was enjoying this immensely.

"You don't actually expect me to delete that file do you?"

"I'm hoping that you will respect my privacy enough to grant my request. Yes I do."

"And why would I do that?" she snickered. "It's not as if we have ever been friends."

"I'm sure you realise how damaging those photos could be in the wrong hands, not just to my career, but to Peter's as well. The school board has a zero tolerance policy for teachers involved in a scandal of any sort."

"Yes, they do don't they," she chortled. "So it would be a really big favor if I helped you

wouldn't it?"

"Yes. It would. And I would very much appreciate it."

"How much would you appreciate it?" she asked, her voice getting cold and unsympathetic. "What would you possibly be able to offer me in return for such a big favor?"

Anger stirred in my gut and I snapped. "You have some nerve!" I spat. "I'm asking you for some common courtesy and you want to be compensated?"

"Apparently the only thing common here is you," she gloated. "It turns out you're a common slut. And, if you're not willing to pay for your sins, there are lots of people who will. Does Peter know about this or are you going to wait until one of his students tells him?"

The thought of a student in possession of any of those pictures confronting my husband at school was frightening. My mind raced through the ramifications of that happening and I knew that the malicious bitch had me.

"All right! How much do you expect me to pay for your 'kindness'?" I hissed.

"Pay? How middle class of you!" she sneered. "Do you think you can settle all of your problems with a chequebook?"

"What do you want?" I half whispered.

"That's better," she grinned. Reaching into her bottom drawer she brought out a CD and pushed it across the desk. "In case you forget at any time what was in that file, I made a copy for you."

Before I could pick it up she brought out several more CDs and spread them dramatically on the desk. "And I made several other copies for friends and coworkers. There's one for your boss and one for Peter's principal, one for the boys in shipping and one for the internet. I think you could be very popular very fast."

Dumbfounded by her spitefulness and shocked that she would even think of stooping to that level, I sat silent as she rolled her chair back and flicked her computer screen into life. "Slut Wives" splashed a pulsing headline across the screen and a dozen thumbnails of naked women filled the background. Jane clicked on a keyhole icon that promised "Down and Dirty Amateurs" and instantly I was there in living colour performing oral sex on my husband. Fortunately his hand was brushing back my bangs and only part of my face was visible.

My stomach knotted and I slumped down into the chair. I could not believe how callous and malicious she was being.

"Jane," I ventured not much above a whisper. "Please tell me that you have not posted the other pictures."

"Of course I haven't ... yet," she replied.

"Have you shown them to anyone?"

Her laughter was confident and her enjoyment genuine. She was basking in the upper hand and the more anxious I became the better she liked it.

"Would it really bother you if I had?"

"Yes," I admitted ruefully. "I would be devastated."

"Then I guess you are prepared to do what I ask?"

"Within reason," I retorted.

"Whatever I ask," she repeated sternly.

With my heart full of trepidation I couldn't bring myself to answer so I just nodded.

"Well Madison dear, to be perfectly frank, you really piss me off the way you parade around here as if you're the incarnation of virtue. No one can even tell an off-color joke without you acting like your delicate sensibilities have been offended. You always act like you're too good for the rest of us. When I saw your photos I realised you're nothing but a fucking hypocrite! Whenever there's management in the room you always have to be the centre of attention. But, pity the ordinary guy who takes a second look at your little peak-a-boo. Oh no. You're too good for that! Does your husband know what a flirt you are with the big bosses? Does Peter realise how you have used your sex appeal to get ahead? You've probably slept with everyone who could get you promoted."

Again I didn't answer. I was afraid to argue and make things worse though I was not about to agree with what she was implying. I worked hard for my promotion and I'm good at what I do. To suggest that I got ahead by exploiting my body was false and insulting. Besides, my clothes are stylish, not slutty. Short skirts compliment my legs and I can hardly be faulted for choosing tops that flatter my ample bust line. I dress to look my best as any attractive woman does.

"That's not fair," I protested weakly. "I earned my promotion."

"You're not going to deny that you enjoy the attention," she sneered. "Or claim you're above posturing so the men take notice of you. Hell, even the way you cross your legs. You never miss an opportunity to put on a show. It would serve you right if I gave the guys a look at your dirty pictures just to make up for your teasing."

"Oh lord! Don't even joke that way Jane!"

She sat for a long moment catching her breath, her mind obviously racing with a jealous rage that she'd long kept under wraps until this unexpected power fell into her hands. Her eyes blazed with a venomous wrath as she searched her thoughts for some retribution that would make up for the imagined slights I had caused her.

"Please Jane; don't let this go any further. It would be awful enough for me but it would destroy Peter's career. He doesn't deserve that."

Her eyes narrowed as if contemplating my situation before she said abruptly and unexpectedly "Take your bra off Madison."

When I hesitated she said "Take it off now or be prepared for me to share your photos."

There was no doubt that she meant it and no room in her tone for compromise. My hands were trembling with anger as I reached under my knit top and unhooked the garment.

"This is no time to be coy Madison. Take your sweater off now and give me your bra."

I looked anxiously toward her office door hoping that there'd be a knock and she'd have to relent. My face had turned scarlet and my normal confidence ebbed as I tugged the ribbed top over my head. I felt, for the moment, I could only comply and hope that her little power play would soon be over. I slid the bra off my arms and the cups fell away revealing my naked breasts. The stress of the moment and the cool air striking my bare flesh had my nipples standing up full and firm in seconds. She held out her hand and I laid my bra across her palm, and then watched as she stuffed it in her oversized purse.

"That's it," she announced waving her hand dismissively. "You can go back to work now."

"I can't go out there without a bra," I pleaded. "Everyone will know."

"Yes they will," she grinned. "And those that don't notice will probably be told by the ones that do."

"Jane, please!"

"What? You can't possibly be pleading modesty after the photos in that file. You're lucky I'm not sending you out there butt naked. Put your sweater on and get out there Madison dear. Your public is waiting."

Struggling to put my sweater over the dampness of my skin my anger boiled over and I snapped at her. "I won't forget this Jane. What goes around comes around." I snatched up my purse and turned for the door. I could feel my ample breasts gently swaying like water balloons as the sweater clung like a second skin.

"Wait," she called out as I reached the threshold. "Come back in."

Relieved that she had had her fun and come to her senses I turned and walked back to the centre of the room.

"Give me your panties," she demanded holding out her manicured hand and snapping her fingers. "I don't like your attitude."

"What? You have to kidding." I spat incredulously.

"Get them off and hand them over or prepare to make the boys very happy with your pictures. Maybe the next time you're told to do something you won't be so inclined to threaten retaliation."

Humiliated, I reached under my skirt and tugged them off almost losing my balance in the process as I wobbled about in my high heels. She took them from me and spread them out on the desk, her long red nails sharply contrasting with the pale cream lace of my boy-cut underwear.

"You surprise me," she smirked. "I would have assumed a thong for a slut like you. Now get the fuck out of here while you still have something left to wear."

I fled back to my office shaking with rage, fear and uncertainty. I took the stairs to avoid meeting anyone in the elevator but climbing the steps had my breasts wobbling like jello. My nipples poked out like thimbles in the soft knitted material and I knew that it would be obvious to anyone that I wasn't wearing a bra. I cursed Jane under my breath and felt an overwhelming sense of futility at my predicament. As angry as I was, I knew that she held all the cards. I would have to be a pawn in her malevolent little game until she decided that it was enough.

I told Audrey to hold my calls as I breezed by her station, closed my office door and tried to gather my thoughts. For several minutes I sat raging over what had just happened, searching for a way out. I was acutely aware of being without underwear. My unprotected nipples kept rubbing against the knit fabric of my sweater. The stimulation and my awareness of them kept them hard and very noticeable to anyone that would glance there. I knew no one would be able to tell I wasn't wearing panties but the feeling of sitting pantyless in my office was still upsetting.

There was a tap on the door and Audrey peaked in. "Sorry to bother you Madison, but Mr. Burke would like you to join them in the boardroom."

The queasy feeling just wouldn't let up. There was no way to avoid the summons and I mentally plotted the least conspicuous way to get to the main boardroom from my office. I could slip out and go up the stairs again but having reached the twelfth floor I would have to walk the length of the executive floor to get to the conference room. If I took the elevator I'd be at the mercy of anyone who got on or off between seven and twelve but then have a shorter gauntlet to run to the room.

I took elevator and folded my arms in front of my chest. It stopped at every floor and at ten three of the VPs got on. Mr. Ewing congratulated me on my promotion and offered his hand to shake.

I knew as he vigorously shook my hand my unrestrained breasts were bobbing around like mad. The men smiled appreciatively and Emily the mail girl was obviously amused. As soon as the doors slid open at my floor I slipped out and hurried to the conference room.

All eyes turned in my direction as I stepped through the door. It was clearly a working session with everyone poring over spreadsheets and Mr. Burke sitting imperiously at the head of the table. He seemed surprised to see me and I stammered my "Excuse me sir ...did you wish to see me?" Burke looked puzzled for a moment and his eyes dropped to my breasts. Leaning back in the chair his eyes narrowed and he said, "It was Jane Reynolds we sent for Madison, but you're always a pleasant sight.