Caught and Exposed

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Deirdre exposes herself.
4.2k words
4.2
147.4k
33

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 08/25/2017
Created 06/05/2009
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My usual style is to rush through a story at as quick a pace as possible. For some it is too hurried. So this time atmosphere has been built, slowly. If like me you like to 'get at it' then skip the first twenty or so paragraphs.

*

Deirdre sat in the car wondering what was to happen next. Mister Smith had stopped to go shopping. How could he casually walk off at a time like this? She wondered again if the purchase was something to do with her punishment. He hadn't told her what it was to be yet. She didn't even know where he was taking her.

The great consolation was the police weren't involved and she would be able to return to her job. She had worked so hard, all her working life, at Timpson Brothers. It was a big part of her life. If she was honest it was her life.

***

The director of Human Resources, Mister Smith, had called her to head office where he confronted her with the awful fact of her theft from the company.

A month ago her boss had died and his company had been bought out by International Salvage, a world wide company. Her company, as she thought of it, was being absorbed. She didn't have the qualifications these new boys had and it looked as though they would bleed her dry of inside information and cast her aside.

In anger and fear for the future she had written cheques to fictitious clients. It had been easy and no one would have found out except a 'wiz kid' stumbled upon the evidence.

***

She sat there resigned to whatever the punishment was to be. She thought over what he had told her for a clue as to what she had let herself in for.

***

"You have an exemplary record Miss Wordsworth. You have dedicated your life to the company. I can read between the lines in your records, it's my job. You're a valuable member of our team but this can't be ignored. Something has to be done, a punishment to fit the crime perhaps."

"You're a highly moral person. A very attractive woman too, if I may say so." He looked at the folder on the large modern desk; it was designed to impress but she was in no mood for executive games. "You are thirty-two, no children, no husband, no current relationship. You have a modest life style. While your boss was ill you ran that company and ran it well. We don't want to lose those valuable skills. The report here says you ran things perhaps a little too well. You were rather hard on everyone, including yourself. That one lapse is very uncharacteristic of you."

"That gives me a clue as to the 'punishment'. Your expression not mine. I prefer to call it re-training. Think on it Miss Wordsworth. You can leave and pay back the money. If you can't pay back the money the courts will deal with you. Or, you can submit to re-training and go back to running the company you love."

***

Submit to re-training. What did he mean? He had told her the clues were in there somewhere but wouldn't explain. She had been given ten minutes with the chairmen who had told her to put herself in Mister Smith's hands. Not one employee had been dismissed since this head of Human Resources had joined them. He had the corporate chairman's full support.

***

At last he returned to the car. Shopping bags from a department store were slung onto the back seat. Without a word he drove off.

"What is it I have agreed to? I must know, tell me now." She demanded.

"That is a part of your problem Miss Wordsworth."

'Ugh! Why doesn't the bastard explain anything." She thought, wanting to shout at him.

"A truck driver, who shall remain nameless, was brought to my attention for having more accidents than average. He was going to be fired; the insurance premiums were too high to keep him on. Anyway, I sent him for an eye test and that solved the problem." He looked at her sitting with her arms folded fuming with hostility.

"You on the other hand are a more complicated case. Your problem is more expensive to fix but you are more valuable to the corporation. I shall be re-training you personally. You are perhaps too moral, expect too much of others and in your words need to be punished. I don't think you could work efficiently if you weren't punished for the theft. It would nag at you. I shall release you from that guilt. Alright, I'll give you a clue. You are an attractive woman and that will be the key to the next few weeks." He told her.

He was right she had said she needed punishing for what she did. She didn't like the sound of it now he was using her word against her. Being punished over a few weeks sounded daunting. How the hell would her appearance be used? If he thought she was going to do something dirty to save her job, well, no way.

Deirdre didn't think of herself as attractive and neither did men. She covered herself up in frumpy clothes and hid herself behind a grumpy attitude.

Was she really an attractive woman? The initial contrition had turned to worry and now mixed with all that was a little fear. What did her punishment have to do with being an attractive woman?

At last they arrived. From the highway they had driven onto a winding road into the hills. Through ornamental gates, that opened automatically, they drove up a long driveway to a large designer house. This was no training centre, it was his home.

He led her into a large room lined with books and to one side an impressive desk. This wasn't modern as in the office it was antique and even more impressive.

"Stand there with your arms at your side." He pointed to a spot before the large oak desk.

Once seated and comfortable he opened the folder again. "You can refuse at this point. You know the conditions if you leave our employ. Very well. You must sign these papers. You are covered by the corporate insurance but more importantly I want you fully committed to this program. No explanations, just listen."

His voice had taken on a deep masterful quality she felt unnerved by. He was leaving no doubt he was in charge and under the circumstances she couldn't complain.

"You are used to being in charge. The men in our business are tough characters and you have learnt to handle them with authority. You have also dedicated your whole life to the company with no outside interest or relationships. Now you will learn to free yourself from the prison you have built. I assure you I know exactly what I am doing and you will do exactly as I say. No questions asked."

If anyone else had spoken to her like that she would have chewed them up and spat them out. 'This would have to be endured.' She thought. The corporate chairman had promised to promote her to managing director at Timpson Brothers if she went ahead with this mans silly game. That was incentive enough to keep her there.

"First you will change out of that prim looking business suit. Take those bags upstairs and change. Return here in twenty minutes. Only wear what you are given, not even those glasses. Understood?" He ordered.

She was about to tell him to go to hell but bit the words back. The expression on her face must have told him everything she needed to say. She swivelled in the flat shoes on the spot and marched out of the room.

Upstairs she wandered along a corridor, marvelling at the simple elegant decor, to the end room. This, in contrast, was like a modern hotel room with basic fixtures and fittings. Even a small shower room was attached.

"What the hell!" She said quietly. The dress was a flowery summer thing. Not her style at all. The panties were plain white cotton with a bra to match. This was unexpected, although she found there had been no thought of what to expect. The whole deal was a mystery.

Looking at herself in a large ornate mirror along the corridor she became worried. The dress wasn't too short but it made her look like a young woman coming of age. She was a mature woman of thirty-two not eighteen. She felt ridiculous in it. The light shone though it too. It revealed the swell of her breasts and outline of her panties.

He had commented she wasn't married or even in a relationship. What did that mean? She feared he might be dressing her up for himself. The whole business of being re-trained might really be just a rouse.

She tottered in on high heels and stood before him. He took no notice. He was immersed in paperwork ignoring her. She wanted to gain his attention or spit in his eye. The later would do.

"Ah! Yes. Very nice. You look cute." He said, examining her.

Trying very hard to control her temper she spoke up. "May I speak?"

"By all means. But I warn you, be careful what you say. And call me sir."

"Yes sir." She said, in a mocking tone. "What possible connection to re-training has this, this dress, got?" She spluttered. "It's for you isn't it! Well I'm not sleeping with you to keep my job. I'll tell the chairman and see what he thinks of a law suite."

"You forgot to say 'sir'. Sleeping with you is not a part of the deal Miss Wordsworth. The purpose of the dress? One, it is a punishment. You obviously hate it so that at least is effective. Two, you are going to start at the age of eighteen and work your way up to thirty-two. If you disobey my instructions or ever forget your place a backward step will be enforced. You could end up wearing nappies the way you are going. Calm down and think." He told her.

"It would be counter productive to reveal the purpose of every little detail. You need to learn how to take instructions before you can give them. You also need to grow into a mature woman. Your role models have been hard men in the metal industry. You've lived your whole life in one small town. You need to grow up and I shall overcome those years of miss-growing into a few weeks."

She stood upright. Only just. The forcefulness of belief in his voice was overpowering. His words stung and opened up little windows of self-doubt.

"Thank your sir." She conceded.

He looked at her and smiled. "We need to go shopping. As a young woman you should enjoy that. In practical terms we need to get you outfitted with something better than my guess at your size." He looked at her cleavage for emphasis.

She blushed. Everything she had ever worn hid her bust rather than emphasised it as this dress did.

"I don't intend to bed you but remember a young woman has to learn about her sexual powers too. Don't worry. Trust me. When we are out you are my niece and will call me, 'sir'. Just remember that, follow my directions and let it all happen." He smiled.

The smile was reassuring but 'letting it happen'. This was not a phrase she could get to grips with. Would that be a punishment, a learning curve, or was it a hurdle. 'What the hell was going on here?' She thought.

In the dress shop she felt embarrassed for the place was staffed by young girls, or so they seemed. They were only a little younger than her but they didn't seem to even see her. They saw a rich man wanting to spend his money and this alone grabbed their full attention.

'OK. I'll play along with this.' She thought. Deidre was only five-three and with a stretch of the imagination could be mistaken for a much younger woman. When he introduced her as his young niece the assistant had frowned but recovered with a wane smile.

From then on they treated her like a girl not a woman at all. They didn't listen to what she wanted, ignoring her and smiling tolerantly. When she began to slide into the role it dawned on her that maybe he did know what he was doing.

"That is such a pretty dress. She looks wonderful." The two assistants cooed almost clapping their hands, while calculating their commission.

Deidre too was impressed with the price, even though it hadn't been mentioned. It looked more expensive than her total monthly clothing budget. In the mirror she twirled enjoying the feeling of silk over her body. The image was not hers it was daddies little rich girl. Without her glasses it looked magical enough for her to forget the absurdity of wearing something so young looking.

The sky blue dress was flared out with taffeta petticoats. The bodice pinched her slim waist pushing her breasts up and out. Despite her breasts looking large they didn't dominate the look of innocence.

A school uniform for rich kids was next. It was complete with polished shoes and white ankle socks. The blazer had the local school emblem sewn onto the breast pocket. The little pleated skirt swung around just above her knees. If it hadn't been so expensive it would have been kinky.

She felt embarrassed being paraded in the store, performing like a monkey on a leash. At least they were the only customers. It seemed the assistants were determined to humble her suggesting ridiculous outfits. By then she had given in to being humiliated by these women.

"The skirt is a little too short don't you think?" Mister Smith asked an assistant.

She saw in the mirror the two women smirk behind his back.

"It's the regulation uniform Mister Smith. All the girls have to wear it right up to leaving age." They reassured him.

'They certainly didn't intend to lose a sale.' She thought. At last the ordeal was over. She was happy with the clothes though the school uniform was a bit of a worry. Surely that revealed something of his particular wish list.

With the clothes safely boxed up she slipped into a less extravagant skirt and top. She didn't complain it was too short or too anything. She was just relieved to be leaving the store.

Males of all ages were studying her as they walked through the mall. At first she hadn't noticed being too busy admiring the leather sofas and luxuriant splendour of this up-market mall. There was nothing like this back home.

Besides she just wasn't used to that kind of attention. This was nothing like walking through the metal stores in a boiler suit and hard hat. She checked her breasts weren't out on show or had snot on her face. She felt uncomfortable but a little smile crossed her face.

"A coffee next." He said.

"Yes sir." She responded, surprised at how her attitude had mellowed.

"You've done well so far. I intend to push you a lot harder than this over the next few weeks as there is a lot to do. Or should I say a lot to undo. I told you if you misbehaved you would be put back a class, as it were." He watched her nod thoughtfully. 'Good.' He thought. 'She is starting to think about what she is doing.'

"Well, I have a challenge for you. If you fail you will be wearing that school uniform for real." He continued to look at her closely. He knew she found it difficult to resist a challenge but either way she would gain in experience.

"Yes sir. Bring it on." She smiled, nervously. "May I ask what you mean by wearing the uniform for real? Sir!" She added quickly.

"You just have. This time I will tell you. You will be enrolled in the young ladies finishing school to start immediately. That uniform was not purchased for nothing. In fact it was rather expensive." He said, smiling at his own joke.

"How could I get away with it! I'm thirty-two. The teachers might not even notice me if I keep my head down. The students will." She said. It had sunk in that everything he said was for real and the prospect frightened her. She thought of school bullies from a distant past.

"Without your glasses you have a youthful bloom to your face. You do look much younger. You look like an old eighteen year old. You could do with finishing off those rough edges." He chuckled.

'Shit! He was enjoying this too much.' She reflected.

"Are you ready?" He asked. She nodded briefly deep in thought.

They drove across town to another mall. With some stores boarded up it looked very different to the one they had just left.

They walked into a discount clothing store where the assistant turned her back on them to continue a conversation on the phone. She followed him to the back of the store.

"In that changing room you will strip off and hand me those clothes. Everything and I mean everything will be replaced. You will make the choice this time of what to wear." He told her.

She quickly stripped off and pushed the clothes through a gap in the curtains.

"Here is a five. You have twenty minutes. Dressed or not you will join me on the bench outside." He told her.

"Wait! I've got nothing on. I need something to start off with." She bleated.

"That is a part of the test. Good luck."

She watched him stride out of the store. "Shit!" She whispered. It was going too well, too easily. "He lulled me into a false sense of security. Why the hell didn't I think it through?" She said quietly.

There was only one other customer and the assistant was ignoring them too. She peered out from the curtain. The nearest aisle contained children's clothes and even this meant walking past a row of prams and assorted junk; there was no cover, she would have to brave it out. Her eyes scanned the racks for something that would most definitely fit.

She didn't have time to fluff about or want to stand around naked being choosy. She ran, snatched and returned in one quick operation. Panting she pulled on the top. It was a boob tube. "Great! That's just perfect. A nice glowing pink too." She muttered angrily. It would have to do there was no time to lose and she still needed a bottom half and underwear.

She groaned loudly. The underwear was at the check out to prevent it being stolen. The price tag had a series of reductions with a final figure one written across it in pencil. She chuckled. The little white socks they purchased earlier were thirty times more than that.

This time she walked out taking a circuitous route to a rail of cheap skirts. She was right. Standing there only her top half could be seen. Absolutely anything that would fit was the priority.

"Hi!"

She almost died of fright. A young man was smiling at her across the rack. He couldn't see her naked bottom half but he was making the most of her top. If he stared any harder the material would melt off her breasts.

"I need some help choosing something for my girlfriend." He said, with a pathetic look upon his face.

She simply froze unable to speak. If he walked round the rack or moved the skirts aside in his search he would see her naked torso. Above her belly button down to her flat shoes she was naked. Everything was either too big or too small. Everything was an odd size.

"Just a moment!" She said. Her confidence had dropped through the floor. There it was. With glee she whisked it off the hanger and pulled it up her legs. Struggling with it over her hips she realised it would have to remain low slung unless she wanted to show off her panties with every step. When she had some that is.

She looked at her watch. There was ten minutes to go and she still had to get some underwear. "I'm in a hurry. Ask the assistant."

She turned her back on him and ran to the check out. "Excuse me." She leant across the counter and with a finger disconnected the call. "I'm in a hurry. Check these out and what I'm wearing." She slid a pair of panties across the counter and leaned in close on tiptoe showing her the labels.

It didn't matter she might be showing off her arse she just had to get back to the changing room to pull on the panties.

With a look that would kill a dead man for a second time the assistant scanned the labels. "That's not enough." She said still chewing furiously on a piece of gum.

Deirdre looked at the display and saw how close it was. It was one for the top and three-twenty for the skirt. So close and this girl was not going to do her any favours.

"You'll have to put these back. I can't take the clothes you've worn them." She said, with arms folded.

She must think I'm so cheap Deirdre wailed inside. "Don't you have something; anything will do! I need a pair of panties." She pleaded.

On the microphone she heard the girl's voice echo around the store. "Mr. Thompson. Have a girl here needs a pair of panties to wear. She wants really cheap ones."

12