Birthday Surprise for Me

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My post-work Birthday drinks have an unforgettable twist.
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OK so this is the first time I have ever written something for public consumption beyond Facebook updates. I stumbled across this site when I was looking for some kind of stimulation and it struck a chord. I am so glad there are others out there that have experienced what I have experienced or are at least interested in reading about it.

My name is Lisa and I live in England. I am now in my early 20s but the incident that changed me so much occurred when I was nineteen -- to be precise it was my nineteenth birthday. I was working in the office of a local engineering company. It was quite a large company with maybe one hundred staff working in the factory and fifteen of us in the office. I was an accounts clerk and had been there since I left school a year before. I worked with another clerk called David who was a good laugh. He had been there for three years and never stopped moaning about how boring it was and how he had to leave soon. Our boss was a fussy woman called Alison. She had been there about ten years and was never going to leave. She was seeing the very handsome foreman who ran the factory floor though he seemed to be less into her than she was into him.

Alison enjoyed exercising her power over David and me, but especially over me. If I made a tiny mistake or even tried to re-format an accounts sheet in a different way she would loudly make a big deal about correcting me. Loud enough for the rest of the office to hear -- it was embarrassing and that probably added to her pleasure. I don't know what her problem was as I was a quiet unassuming person who worked hard and caused no trouble.

The rest of the office staff were OK. There were a couple of sales guys who were fun although they were often out of the office seeing clients. Karen who worked on reception was nice as was the graphic designer Jack. But my best friend there was Becky who was PA for Mr Ashcombe, the 60 year old who owned the company. Oh and there was George Tucker the office pervert. OK maybe a bit harsh but he was a 40 year old who still lived with his mother and was renowned for letting his eyes wander downwards from the face when talking to his female colleagues. He was weird but harmless.

I wasn't bothered about my birthday that day and nineteen isn't a special one. However, it was usual to head down to the local pub after work with everyone from the office and occasionally some of the guys from the factory. Pretty much everyone from the office said they were coming that night which was a relief as it would be an embarrassing commentary on my popularity if it had been a low turnout. Alison's boyfriend Jeff said that loads of his workmates from the factory floor were coming and that they were all up for a big session. In fact, there was a big buzz around the place which was great as, although I am uncomfortable with being the centre of attention, it made me feel more secure. My friend Becky was a bit quiet and unenthusiastic, but she was having boyfriend troubles again and I vowed to look after her that night.

I had made a bit of an effort for my birthday. I normally wore a trouser suit with heels at work but had worn a skirt for a change. It wasn't short but was tight-fitting and showed my bum off really well. I had even worn stockings though I wasn't sure why I bothered as I wasn't seeing anyone and none of the men at work were flirting with me or anything. I am fairly shy and not comfortable with men. I have only had one boyfriend -- just after I left school - and we only went out together for a few weeks. Enough time to lose my virginity but getting dumped by him didn't help my confidence. I am fairly plain looking, but I do have a great body -- I have looked at porn on the Web so I knew what men liked and what body types they thought were hot. I knew that I ticked all the boxes: long legs, firm and fairly toned body despite never exercising and full but very firm breasts. Judging by the women I saw on porn sites men seem to prefer women shaved between the legs -- so I shaved the night before my Birthday, even though there was nobody at the office who seemed interested in the shy plain accounts clerk.

Just before lunch, my friend Alison came over and said that the boss, Mr Ashcombe, needed to see someone from Accounts immediately to explain some figures. Alison and David were going over unpaid invoices with the head of sales in a meeting room in the other building on the site so I had to go. I was really nervous as Alison always dealt with Mr Ashcombe and if she was on holiday then the more experienced David would deputise. I offered to go and find Alison, but Becky said that I shouldn't keep her boss waiting. So, I went into his office.

Mr Ashcombe has a reputation for being rather remote and traditional as bosses go. He had inherited the company from his father and had never had to work his way up. However, he was a fair man apparently although I had never dealt with him directly other than saying "hello" or "good morning" to him if our paths crossed occasionally in the office. I walked over to his office trying to keep calm. Wearing stockings in the office for the first time didn't help -- it felt strange not wearing trousers and I felt quite self-conscious. I hadn't got physical with a boy for almost a year, but I thought that it would be good to dress sexily for once even if only I got to appreciate it!

I knocked on Mr Ashcombe's office and went in.

"Ah Lisa isn't it?" he said looking surprised to see me.

"Yes sir, Alison is in a meeting, but I hope that I can help."

"I am sure that you can," he replied and showed me an Excel file and some numbers that he didn't understand. To be honest it was quite simple for anyone in Accounts to understand and I must have explained it fairly well as he was pleased with me.

He sat back and asked me how long I had been in the company. I replied that I had been there for about a year as I had joined just after I turned 18 and I was 19 today.

"Ah it is your birthday today. Congratulations. And how will you be celebrating this momentous day?"

"Well pretty much everyone in the office is going to The Red Lion after work for the traditional drinks," I replied.

He sat there for a few seconds before replying. "Might I join you all tonight, I haven't met everyone for a long while and I think that I owe you a drink for your help today."

"Er, yes, of course," I mumbled, rather shocked as apart from the Christmas party Mr Ashcombe never came out socially with his staff.

"Excellent, I shall look forwards to it, and thank you for your help with the accounts."

"OK, we will see you later," and with that I left his office closing it gently behind me.

I stopped by Becky's desk and told her. She was surprised and looked a bit concerned but I assured her that she shouldn't worry about having her boss there and that he would probably leave early, and he wouldn't see us in an inebriated state! She said that she hoped so and I returned to my desk.

Alison and David came back from their meeting half an hour later and I told her about me having to help Mr Ashcombe with the accounts report. She was not happy and demanded to know why I hadn't gone and fetched her. I explained that there had been no time, but she was clearly annoyed that I had covered for her so easily. She sat there with a scowl on her face and ignored me for the rest of the afternoon. God, I needed a drink or two!

At last five o'clock came and my usual drink of Southern Comfort and Lemonade beckoned.

"Right," said David, "let's go and get drunk!"

I closed down my PC, looked out of the window at the blazing late afternoon sun, decided to leave my jacket and headed off with David and Becky.

"We should get something to eat on the way and line our stomachs," Becky suggested unusually sensibly.

"We should but we won't, I need a drink and I can't wait."

"Good girl Lisa, I am with you on that," said David.

With that the three of us set off telling the others that we would meet them there. Five minutes later we were in The Red Lion. It was fairly busy, but someone had reserved the best tables right in the middle of the bar for us so as David got the first round of drinks Becky and I settled down and waited. David was served by the good-looking barman -- the one I fancied but other than ordering drinks off him dozens of time I had been too shy to ever talk to him. As it was my birthday David got me a double Southern Comfort and lemonade which I polished off in a couple of minutes. Becky got the next round -- another double - and that was almost gone by the time the rest of the office turned up. The alcohol began to relax me, and it was really good fun with everyone (except Alison) buying me drinks. In fact, after an hour I was feeling nicely merry when two of the sales guys I was chatting with looked at something over my shoulder and grinned.

I turned to see what they were grinning at. Standing behind me was a policeman. "You are Lisa Portis," he asked.

"Err, yes why," I answered feeling nervous although I hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well there has been an incident and I believe that you can help us."

Then it clicked. The 'policeman' had an orange permatan and a big grin, and now I looked properly it wasn't a real uniform. He was a stripper-gram!

My mind raced. Someone had organised a stripper-gram for Mark, one of the factory apprentices, for his leaving do at Christmas. Everyone had given a fiver to his workmates who were organising his leaving party here in the Red Lion. It has been quite funny, and Mark had taken it well laughing and playing along with the occasion. But he had ended up standing in his boxer shorts with his trousers around his ankles while a woman dressed as Santa Claus stripped in front of him. OK so she ended up naked while he had just stood there and watched. And yes, everyone thought he had been a 'good laugh' about it but he still ended up in just his boxers! But he was a bloke and it was normal for them to end up scantily dressed while the female stripper-gram did her thing. Surely, they wouldn't go so far for a woman. My heart began to race.

I saw Alison standing with a Mr Ashcombe and a group of my office colleagues. She smiled at me -- a malicious smile that showed that she had been very involved in organising my birthday entertainment. I tried to smile despite my predicament. My work colleagues formed a wide circle around us but leaving space for everyone else in the pub to watch the entertainment if they wanted.

The 'policeman' in front of me winked at me and tried to put me at ease: the panic must have shown on my face.

He spoke loudly so the whole pub could hear. "Well Miss Portis, the person involved seems to fit your description. I need to check so can I just have a look at your blouse."

"Err sure," I replied.

"So please pass it over."

Well I had a tube top underneath so that was OK I thought. I unbuttoned my blouse and passed it over, with a forced smile. In return, I received a loud cheer from all my colleagues and seemingly every male in the pub. I suddenly needed another Southern Comfort. The policeman passed my blouse behind him -- Alison took it from him and waved it at me with a grin.

"Right miss, I am sorry, but I am going to have to hold you here for questioning," and out of a pocket he produced a pair of handcuffs! This produced a loud cheer from the audience and a weak smile from me. He moved me against the bar and told me to place my hands behind my back. He placed a cuff on one hand, it was tight but not painful. Then putting the chain over the brass rail that ran along the edge of the top of the bar he expertly slipped the other cuff over my free hand securing me against the bar. My hands were quite high behind my back, it wasn't painful, but it would be if I stayed like that for too long. Most worrying of all though was that I was defenceless.

"OK Miss Portis, I have had reports from your boss that you are suspected of stealing office supplies from your place of employment."

"No," "shame," "shocking," came the mock cries from my colleagues around me.

"I'll give you one more chance to come clean," he offered.

"I am innocent," I claimed.

"Is that the outline of a stolen postik pad I can see there?"

"What?" I replied.

"I think it is," shouted one of the sales guys, "you'd better check!" I gave him my best withering look.

"I am afraid I will," said the policeman. With a smile he started patting me down pretending to search me. He gave my breasts a big squeeze which brought more cheers from around the pub.

"Yes, we have a suspicious object here," he announced, still with both hands on my breasts. "I am sorry madam, but your boss insists that I retrieve any stolen materials."

"Oh, I definitely do!" called Alison, obviously relishing my embarrassment.

I was still watching her with barely concealed contempt when the policeman held both sides of my tube top and pulled it down over my bra. He kept pulling it down over my waist, over my skirt and down to my ankles. Looking up he suggested that I step out of my top as the floor wasn't very clean for a white top. In a state of shock, I lifted each foot up and watched as my top flew over his shoulder to be neatly caught by Alison. Wolf whistles broke out around the pub. I could feel my face burning red with embarrassment. I looked down and saw my cleavage, looking impressive as it was pushed up by my strapless bra.

"No, it wasn't there," the policeman announced with a mock puzzled look on his face. "I can tell by your blushing that you have something to hide and it would be unprofessional of me to stop now".

I looked up and saw Becky by the bar. She gave me a commiserating smile. She knew I wasn't enjoying it, but she had seen stripper-grams before and knew the drill. There was nothing anyone could do -- I just had to smile and endure. I was going to end up standing in the pub for all to see, wearing a sexy bra and knickers set with pull up stockings and heels on! I was going to look a right tart and all my colleagues and even complete strangers in the pub would see! I felt light-headed and thought that I might faint. I couldn't move, my hands were held high behind my back and I was defenceless. Suddenly I was aware that the policeman was down on his knees in front of me with his hands on my arse, then his hands were on my skirt zipper and then it was being unzipped. I looked down at him trying to catch his eye so that I could plead with him to stop. But he just looked directly at my crotch area as my skirt was slowly tugged downwards. It was a tight-fitting skirt and he gave a hard tug to get it going. I felt my knickers catch and start to be pulled down -- I swear my heart stopped - but thankfully the skirt slipped over them and headed slowly down my legs. I had to step out of my skirt and watch as it was passed to the grateful hands of my boss.

The policeman stood up, stepped back and turned to the crowd. "Well that is the best-looking suspect I have seen in a long time!". Judging by the whistles and shouts from around the pub they were clearly impressed. If I didn't feel so sick with nerves I would have been pleased I guess. All around me my colleagues were clicking their mobile phone cameras to record my embarrassment. Most of the factory staff hadn't come as they didn't ever come into contact with Accounts people in the office, but undoubtedly, they would be seeing me in my lingerie soon enough once images started flying around the internet. Bloody Alison, I hated her, and anyone else who helped arrange this.

All around the pub everyone was watching me. Even couples on tables on the far side had stopped talking to enjoy the spectacle of my embarrassment. The pub door opened, and two men walked in. I recognised them instantly although I hadn't seen them since I had left school last year. The younger one was Mr Bennett my old English teacher and the older one -- he must have been 60 and approaching retirement -- was the Head of English Mr Pards. They stopped in their tracks, smiling in pleasure at a scantily clad woman standing in the pub. Mr Bennett nudged his department head as he recognised me, and I could see him explaining who I was to before they both had a good laugh. Eventually Mr Pards went to the bar to get their drinks while Mr Bennett edged over to where my colleagues were enjoying the entertainment.

"Well I am clearly going to have to change my approach with this suspect" announced the policeman. He clicked his fingers in the direction of the bar and a barman, clearly prepared, pressed play and the pub was filled with the song from The Fully Monty. The policeman began to dance in front of me and slowly removed his jacket. I forced a smile onto my face -- well at least he was stripping now, and all the attention would move to him. I wondered how far he would go. The female stripper-gram at Christmas has gone completely naked before rubbing herself all over Mark. I guessed that as long as I kept smiling and playing along it would all be over in five minutes then I could get dressed and drink and drink and drink!

His shirt came off next revealing a fantastic torso. All the women in the pub were giving him their full attention though I noticed that most of the men were still eyeing me up. I felt faint with embarrassment; this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

The policeman's trousers came off with a single pull just like in The Full Monty leaving him just wearing a ridiculous looking posing pouch. It wasn't sexy, but I guess it was there to get a laugh -- everyone in the pub was laughing except me. I was finding it hard to force a smile onto my face. He danced around in front of me working the crowd. The women were loving it and the men were laughing too but were watching me as much as the stripper-gram. I noticed Mr Ashcombe sipping a glass of red wine and watching me intently. How was I ever going to face the office again? I would have to go off sick tomorrow and get another job fast. I snapped back to what was happening in front of me. The stripper-gram had come right up to me and was rubbing his posing pouch against my knickers. The crowd were roaring with laughter and he was lapping it up. He danced alongside me and rubbed himself against my hand behind my back. He whispered loudly in my ear, so I could hear above the music, "Hold the string at the top." I couldn't move my cuffed hand but could just feel some cord and a bow at the top of his posing pouch. I certainly didn't want to feel any lower!

He moved away from me and the bow unravelled leaving the posing pouch in my hands. He stood there naked with a mock look of astonishment on his face and pointed at the posing pouch in my hand. He danced around in front of me, his penis bouncing all over the place. He rubbed himself against my knickers and the crowd roared in approval. Then he turned and faced them and rubbed his backside against me. I just grimaced and looked at the ceiling. It was almost over and then I could get a drink or three and leave as soon as was socially acceptable.

It seemed that all my colleagues were taking photos of myself and my birthday 'surprise'. He stood alongside me and put his arm around me and posed. It was awful and I had nowhere to look. One of the telesales women came up right up to us to get a close-up of the stripper's penis to great cheers from all. Drunk though I was all I could think of was where would those pictures end up? Everyone has seen those embarrassing drunk photos on social media sites everywhere. Undoubtedly my non-work friends would end up seeing me standing in sexy lingerie in the middle of a pub being cuddled by a naked man!

I guess it was the alcohol dulling my senses, but I never felt it happening. The stripper had his hand behind my back and one-handedly he unclipped the clasp of my bra. Being strapless it just popped off and fell on the floor in front of me. One second I was standing there embarrassed and the next I was humiliated.

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