Leased Women Pt. 06 - Nicole

Lori wants me to tell you how I was feeling--standing there naked at the top of the stairs, waiting to meet her.

I was excited, I was nervous, I was... ready to cry! Some think that because I am the oldest naked Pixie, that I want to be Prime.

Hells no!

I do not want that responsibility! No, ever since I got used to being naked, to accepting nudity as my natural state... then declaring myself Red Pussy just a week ago, and accepting any and every entry into my body... sorry! I keep coming up with the word 'acceptance.' For the first time in my life, I, Nicole, now nothing but a naked pleasure girl, have found total and complete acceptance.

When I first saw her, I really did burst into tears. Lori was... perfect in every way: a sweet, slightly shy, pretty face; gorgeous wonderfully curved body; and the legs of a superstar. We all reacted the same way: we stumbled down the steps and we grabbed her--as best as four naked girls could grab one naked girl. I was unashamedly rubbing my bushy mound into her hip. I was not trying to get off... it was as if I wanted to absorb Lori's own sweet nakedness into my own.

With Lori here, adding her own unique beauty to the mix, we all became just a little bit more beautiful ourselves.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

How did a thirty-one-year-old, successful paralegal with a top international law firm, become a naked redheaded pleasure girl?

My father always wanted me to be a lawyer. He became the "king of the strip malls" just by making an initial smart investment, then reinvesting his profits.

He always told me "Punkin, you're more than smart enough to be a lawyer." He set me up with meetings with lawyers he knew. All I heard was all the long hours they had to put in just to be somebody--not even a successful somebody--and that totally turned me off.

So... I majored in Business Administration.

Which meant that I spent four years training to be an Executive Assistant, or a Personal Assistant... nothing more than a glorified secretary.

I was disappointed--and I know my Dad was disappointed--but he supported me as I did the best I could, and I started getting promotions, and finding better opportunities.

Then, Dad got sick, and everything was put on hold. The weird part was, my Dad stayed strong through it all--my Mom basically collapsed. I had to move in to help her out as she meandered listlessly through her day.

I told my Dad before he died that I was determined to become a paralegal. He told me that he was always so very proud of me, whatever I did.

Afterwards, I had to leave. I couldn't be the only grownup in the house for my Mom anymore. I told her I had to get on with my life. She just stared at me.

I used some of my inheritance to take a year off working and I got my paralegal certification in less than a year. I hit all of the top law firms in the city. I could tell they liked the way I looked, but I had no experience.

I've been told that I look like the long, lean, blue-eyed redheaded personal assistant on the TV show "Suits." Personally, I think she's really pretty but I have an even softer, more "girl next door" look.

Then I heard about an international law firm in which looks really counted. Some of the girls I kept running into on interviews told me I could definitely get away with it, if I sexed myself up: a shorter skirt; a tight, unbuttoned blouse revealing a lacy bra. I basically said "What the hell!"

And... the three senior partners who ended up interviewing me were practically eating me up. The senior senior guy told me I had exactly the look that "certain of our very important international clients like to see. You are an intelligent young woman, but you're also a beautiful young woman. Don't be afraid to display both aspects here, and you will go far."

Wow. And my first paycheck was: wow. I did have to spend more of my inheritance though on short, sexy skirts; tight dresses; lacy bras and even stockings. The firm paid for Ubers to work and I was so glad: no way I wanted to take public transportation in the city that never stops leering in my new 'dressed to thrill' look.

There were five senior partners: four men and one woman. I was the only paralegal serving three attorneys: two women and one guy. I noticed that the two female attorneys were both cute, and dressed as sexily as possible, but they had to scale it back a bit for court appearances.

The guy was equally cute and we almost immediately started a really nice, sort of 'friends with benefits' relationship. Jeremy told me all about the new client they were about to wine and dine and I couldn't believe it.

The tiny South Seas island nation of Sun-Ki-Yao (pronounced "Sun-Key-Yow") had been briefly seized by Japan during the war. It became known as a place for American G.I.s to pose for pictures with pretty, topless native girls in their colorful half-sarongs.

Then the Island plunged into modernity. The people eagerly adopted every modern advancement that came along. They built luxury resorts to attract Western tourists to the tropical, white sand, turquoise water beauty.

There was just one problem:

Unmarried females were required to be nude in public. All single women had to be seen naked at all times to be evaluated and "scarved" by eligible men.

All men twenty and older were able to have thirteen custom-embroidered scarves per year. When they saw a woman they wanted to evaluate in private, they wrapped a scarf around her pretty neck in public. The woman was then required to get to a private place as soon as possible and read the info embroidered on the scarf: the man's name, residence and means of contact. A woman scarved in the morning had to report by afternoon; afternoon by evening.

Evaluation could be simply a closeup nude look--or it could include intimate groping. And it could go all the way to having sex with the man or with another eligible male in his household--as he watched.

Evaluations had to be over in an hour. Eligible males who used up thirteen scarves in any period of time, without selecting a bride, were called before the Council. Unless they had a very good explanation, they were assigned a wife.

Jeremy and I were sitting naked on the balcony of his luxury townhouse, overlooking a busy Boston street. Yes, Jeremy had cleverly arranged various drapes and potted plants so that our naughty bits were not visible from below.

"So you can see," he concluded as he sipped his coffee and stared between my casually open legs, "why the Yao were never admitted to the United Nations!"

"I never heard of them," I said, noting that his penis had risen perceptibly as he told his crazy tale. We had just made love and showered, but... slow, after-sex time in bed on a lazy Sunday was a wonderful way to waste the time away.

"There are countries--South American, Asian, even a few European countries who recognize the Yao. There's even a rather naughty tour group, mostly for sex-crazed bachelorette parties, that flies--then boats--groups of ladies in to wander around naked in public, and giggle over who will get scarved."

"Sounds completely nutty and very sexy to me." I stood up.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to bed. I think I need you to kiss me all over."

"Didn't we just do that?"

"Jeremy!" I put my hands on my hips and thrust my red-furred pussy at him. "You know we have to keep that up until you've kissed every square inch of my body!"

I turned and wiggled my ass inside.

"Jeez," he sighed, putting down his coffee. "And leave it to you to still be keeping track!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One day, we were told the President was coming. I was accountably nervous, licking my lips, checking my makeup, unbuttoning more buttons and deciding how best to pose with my skirt riding up. Well: we were told to impress him as best we could--this was a man used to seeing women totally nude in public.

He walked in alone which surprised me; no retinue or posse. He looked so short at first; just one of those slightly Asian-looking islanders. Then he walked up to me, and he looked at me--I mean really looked. I felt like Scarlett O'Hara in the movie who says Rhett Butler looked at her as if she didn't have her shimmy on. Then he smiled. I melted. I stood up and he took my hand.

"So creamy light, all over. It will take a while for your naked body to adjust to our sun, our warm, caressing winds, and to the feel of our soft sand--everywhere."

I didn't know what to say. I had just been thoroughly evaluated--with my clothes on.

President Kee-en (that's the closest pronunciation) was in and out of meetings all week. In the middle of shaking hands, he would always come over to my desk. My skirts were getting shorter, and/or pulled up to newfound heights. Soon I was dispensing with bras: I would go into the ladies room and ensure that my nipples were hard and visible through my see-through blouse.

What was going on with me? I was enjoying the attention so much. It was as if--okay--now I knew why God or Nature had gifted me with this body... it was meant to be admired and to give pleasure.

Kee-en came in on the Friday afternoon that a catered banquet would be given in his honor. We were all going home early as the caterers were taking over.

He walked over to me with that sly grin--a short but powerful man, jet-black hair, permanently tanned-olive skin.

"If, my dear Nicole, you could bow your head this time instead of extending your pretty hand."

I was puzzled. Were we about to pray? I thought the Yao's only religion was pure naked hedonism.

I did what I was told. He put his hands around my neck and I tried not to flinch. Then I felt and I saw the black, embroidered scarf.

I had been scarved.

"You are wise as well as beautiful! You know what this signifies. Obviously, it is not binding outside my tiny island, but I see you getting more and more naked for me. It is your choice."

I watched him leave as I stood there. He went into the senior-most partner's office. Pretty blonde lawyer Daphne was staring at me, then she turned away.

Kee-en left shortly, giving me a bow. I practically ran into Mr. Simon's office.

"I know," he said. "Close the door."

I took off the scarf and read what was on it. "It's his name, and the time and place is tonight's party."

Old Man Simon was a large, balding man who exuded power. But he always treated me wonderfully.

"If Kee-en actually selected you, and you accepted, you would become Queen."

I stared at him.

"We call him 'President,' his title could also translate as 'King.' It is an incredible honor."

"I... I have to be naked at the party?!"

Old Man Simon nodded. "And he will examine you, sexually."

He leaned forward. "If you do this--and I know you probably find it debasing--I will do everything I can for you... and for your career."

"You're all gonna see me naked!"

He nodded again. "All five partners, the caterers who are actually from Yao, Kee-en and an... associate... and Daphne."

My eyes got wide.

"She has agreed to sort of be your chaperone. Kee-en wanted her nude as well... we settled on her wearing... something."

I think I actually smiled. All of these people were counting on me being naked. I was suddenly in a very powerful position. I realized that nudity didn't have to equate to vulnerability.

"I'll do it. And I won't be wearing a thing."

"Oh Nicole!" and Old Man Simon got up from behind his desk. I stood up and we hugged.

"Nicole: I am forever in your debt and I mean that. You now have a very powerful friend."

"Well," I said after I extricated myself from his bear hug, "you'll see me--all of me--at the party."

And I deliberately shook my ass a little more then necessary as I strolled out in my short, tight skirt.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The party was at seven; I showed up six-thirty to "change." All I was wearing was a flowery, mini sundress and high heels. Nothing underneath, and it would all come off with a zipper on the back.

As soon as I walked into the office, senior partner 'Old Lady Glenn' was puttering about.

"Oh my dear! Oh my dear! Oh you look so lovely!" She whispered: "What a pity they won't see you in your pretty little dress!" She'd gone from puttering to gushing in under ten.

Glenn was a matronly woman in her late fifties. She had very fake blonde hair piled on top of her head, pearls, and a long black dress with white fringes that would been fashionable around 1961.

Old Lady Glenn led me to an unused back office. We walked in without knocking and beautiful blonde Daphne was standing there in her pink bra and panties, hands behind her in un-clasping mode. She grabbed her blue button-down shirt and held it in front of her.

Mrs. Glenn paid her discomfort no notice. "Here we are! My two sweet girls; ready to dress--or undress for our little soirée. I will leave you to it!" She bowed her way out and closed the door.

"Jesus," Daphne shook her head. "I never worried about Glenn before but... she's over the top today." She resumed brassiere removal, and stood there nonchalantly with her big, round, pink-tipped breasts saying 'hi there!'

"Uhhh..." I cleverly replied. I couldn't take my eyes off her lightly bouncing bouncers. "She's been married for longer than we've been alive. You don't think she's..."

Daphne snorted as she dug around in a tote bag. Her breasts were so nicely following along with every move she made.

"No! I think this is all new to her... looking at and digging naked girls. I got over that... mostly over that... in college."

I sighed and unzipped my sundress and pulled it over my head.

"Oh you're naked! Nice... really nice! You are a sweet little sexpot!" And she pulled off her panties and we were both nude.

"Come on," she said, walking toward me, "you need a real girl hug."

With Daphne's arms open wide and those breasts a heartbeat away, I couldn't resist. Oh god: that was the first time I felt a naked woman's body pressed against mine. I closed my eyes. I could feel her breathing and her heart beating through her squished-up breasts.

Yes: I admit it. I was obsessed with attorney Daphne's bare tits.

I opened my eyes and she was looking at me. She was licking her lips so I dove in. What a kiss! I temporarily lost my ability to breathe but I didn't care.

"That was your first time? Wow. It comes natural to us... imagine two guys who have to strip together. They'd be in here talking football. Men are strange."

We kissed again and just laughed. I stood there naked as I watched naked Daphne get her outfit out.

"Did you ever think it would come to this? I mean, you getting naked, and me having to negotiate what kind of lingerie?"

She pulled on a tiny pink thong. It wasn't quite see-through but it was quite tiny. I noted that she was shaved and possessed a girlishly sweet, closed-up innie slit.

"This place was always the legal version of 'Mad Men,' but now they're actually talking the sexy paralegal into getting naked and being groped by a client?!"

I gulped. "Uhhh... how far do you think the groping's gonna go?"

Daphne slipped into her top, which was basically a non see-through bra with open see-through pink panels flowing down. The panels opened wide over her tummy and stopped at waist level, doing nothing to cover her pretty panties.

She looked absolutely fuckable.

"He's gonna make you cum in front of us... he's gonna make you cum."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We walked into the big boardroom holding hands. I think we looked cute. Did 'jaws drop?' I think so. Everyone had a drink in their hands and it was as if our nudity/partial nudity hit the Pause button on drinks being raised to mouths.

It was weird and crazy and exciting. It was every dream of walking into school/work naked: except that this was real, and therefore I was in control.

We split up and went around the big glass table in different directions. The protocol was: men (generally) would take both my hands and drink in my naked self at arm's length.

Common comments included:

1) Lori! You're so beautiful!

2) Look at you--you're naked! I just can't believe it!

3) You are one brave--or totally crazy girl!

When I got to Old Man Simon I was one admirer away from Kee-en.

He also held me at arm's length. "You are... beyond my wildest dreams. I need other words for 'beautiful.'" He pulled me in closer and whispered. "I feel like King Herod asking Salome to dance naked. I won't give you half my kingdom... but I am serious. Anything you want--even if it's beyond reason. I am in your debt and I don't like being in debt!"

As he passed me along to the President/King, I thought I was detecting Daddy/daughter Syndrome. Simon had photos of his two sweet girls on his desk--one was nineteen; one was twenty-five. Simon had had to suppress his appreciation of how beautiful they looked in their teeny bikinis, their short party dresses, and his occasional glimpses of them wrapped in nothing but a bath towel.

Men in that situation developed an unfulfilled longing for younger, pretty girls. I was no Dr. Freud, but I was quite sure if Old Man Simon had me, I would be nude over his knee.

Kee-en held me by the hands in a similar way, then he suddenly grabbed me tight.

"It is my joy, to finally hold you naked.

Your body was made curvy by the goddesses of the swirling seas, the warm winds, and the soft white sands.

You are woman and woman is pleasure and life.

I finally press your breasts to my chest--

Your ass into my hands--"

His hands dropped and gripped my cheeks.

"Your vulva, source of all pleasure and life, against my welcoming penis.

I evaluate you as a simple man.

How can a simple man evaluate a reflection of a goddess?"

He was done with his poetic recital so he turned me around, facing a very appreciative audience. There was light applause. Daphne turned away and wiped her eyes.

Kee-en and his assistant--an older man who was almost his twin except for more lines on his smiling face and graying hair--led me to a specially prepared chair. There were extra pillows on it--scrounged, no doubt, from one of the partners' plush offices.

I was positioned by four well-experienced hands into a position in which my entire vulva--on down to my vagina, then my anus--were totally exposed. Then they spread my legs until they were sufficiently wide and placed my feet--after carefully removing my sexy heels--on the edge of the glass table.

Five senior partners, Daphne, plus three caterers--two Yao-looking men and a woman--gathered as a most cooperative group at the other side of the table. Nine people on the other side had the perfect pussy-viewing position.

Kee-en stood behind me, grinning. As long as I leaned back and looked up to him, I was safe, I was desired, I was appreciated.

He bent down and took a breast in each hand. He kneaded them like soft warm dough; his thumbs kept flicking my nipples. Finally he squeezed each nipple between thumb and forefinger--hard! I reacted without thinking--I closed my eyes and lifted my upper body up to him.

"Excellent! Truly excellent!"

King Kee-en ran his hands down to my belly. He tickled me and I nearly collapsed in girlish giggles. He was an expert handler of the nude female body, and I could not get enough of his touch.

Kee-en now loomed over me. He ran his hands through my dark red fur. He opened me up with one hand. The other hand--one finger traced a path from clit to cunt and back again.

"She is wet!" he proudly proclaimed. He held up his glistening finger. His right-hand man started the applause, the rest joined in in a kind of daze. They were applauding the fact that their pretty redheaded paralegal's pussy was becoming lubricated for sex as they watched.

I noticed his man kept providing the King with wipes and anti-bacterials. It was good to know that the public groping of my most intimate area was being conducted in so healthy a manner.