More Fool Me

Missy sat staring at her computer screen, careful that no one was looking over her shoulder. It was the second email that she had received that day, and she was getting worried. Of course, everyone had been warned about opening strange emails in the office, but no one really listened to those rules, did they?

MAPhillips

Subject: Compliance

Ms. Phillips:

You've been a naughty girl in the office, haven't you? What were you thinking,

bringing yourself off in the ladies'? Anyway, you've been caught, as evidenced in

the attached photograph. Now, I could simply ignore the fact that you've been a

little slut, but where would the fun be in that?

As penance for your little show, and to prevent me from e-mailing this photo to every-one in the office, including your supervisor, you need to perform five tasks. Of course,

I'll need photographic proof of your having completed said tasks. You can simply

send them back to me at this address.

You'll receive your first task before the end of the day.

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor.

Missy carefully opened the attachment and a full frame image of her masturbating in a stall filled her computer screen. She quickly closed the attachment, but not before she was treated to the depraved vision that was now burned into her retinas. It wasn't like she did it every day or anything, but she had had such a fantastic time the night before. Surely, it wasn't a crime to relive a few of those moments, even if it was in the restroom at work.

The infernal image showed her with her hose and panties around her ankles, legs spread, and her right hand buried in her abundant bush. Her skirt was pushed up around her tummy and her left hand had snaked under it and was obviously fondling her breast. The look on her face said it all; mouth open, tongue lolling out and eyes shut tight. The photo had caught her right on the brink of orgasm. "Great!" She whispered to herself in a mock scream.

It was too late for regrets, although she cursed herself for having been so foolish. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was possible for someone to walk in during her frolicking, but she hadn't heard anyone. And how could anyone have snapped a picture of her without her noticing. Your eyes were closed, bozo, she recalled, the image replaying in her mind for the balance of the day.

Fran had been fantastic the night before. Missy thought back on the exchange in her kitchen when Fran had lifted her onto the island and snipped the crotch of her panties with her kitchen shears, that were conveniently located behind her. She had objected of course, but her lust for her lover overruled any physical action to prevent the act. Even sitting at her desk her pussy throbbed with the memory of the fabric slowly flying free of her sex.

Fran had then flipped her legs back, and giving her a stern look, demanding that she hold them that way. What ensued was some of the best oral she'd ever received. Perhaps it was the lead up, the location, splayed out on her island where she normally prepared her meals. No one had ever cut off her clothing before and even if it was a pair of rather expensive Neiman Marcus panties, the image drove her wild. If Missy hadn't just been caught in the act, she might have been headed for the ladies' to quell the ache between her thighs.

Thinking that she had escaped whatever 'torment' her self-professed tormentor had in store for her, Missy began packing her things for the day. She was just rising from her chair when her computer rang out with an incoming email. Flustered, Missy sat back down in the chair and opened it.

MAPhillips

Subject: Task #1

Ms. Phillips,

Here is your first task. Attack it with the same enthusiasm you obviously had for

achieving orgasm that day, and you will find it so much easier to complete.

You will arrive at the office tomorrow, sans underwear. This means: no panties

and no bra. You will wear the same skirt you wore on the day you were caught.

However embarrassing that might prove will depend on how careful you are bending

over.

Photos will be expected, of course.

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor

As Missy watched the few employees that remained file out of the office, she closed the email and disappointedly shut off her computer.

"Hey, Phillips, you planning on spending the night?" Rod Taylor kidded. "We're heading down to the pub. Join us." Rod knew damned well that Missy played for the other team, but he never ceased in his efforts, trying to convert her. "First pint's on me."

"Thanks for the offer, Rod. I've got some things to attend to at home." Deflecting, as she shrugged on her coat. When she looked back, Rod had disappeared, being sufficiently sloughed off for the umpteenth time.

"What's got under your skin?" Fran asked, as she tossed another peeled potato into the pot. They worked at the island, and Missy couldn't help but think back on their evening of two nights past.

"Nothing, really. Work's bearing down a bit." Missy lied, not willing to share what was actually going on.

"Is it that Taylor chap? He's a right slime ball. Did you ever think about hitting him for harassment?" Fran growled. Missy was confident that Fran would disassemble the man should they ever meet. The frightening part was that she was perfectly capable of taking down nearly any man. A second-degree black belt, Fran made no secret of her physical attributes. It had proven embarrassing on more than a few occasions. "Of course, I could always—"

"Fran. Please. He's a colleague, and you know he's just mucking about." Missy insisted. She knew that the man was harmless, but she had made the mistake of telling Fran about an incident where Rod was more than persistent on her joining him after work. "Besides. You know I'm perfectly mad for you."

Fran reached over and squeezed Missy into a tight embrace, tracing her tongue up her neck until their lips met. "Why don't we forget about tea?" Fran suggested, allowing her hand to roam south until it nestled between Missy thighs.

"Not on your life, babe. I'm hungry." Missy objected.

"So am I."

"No!" Missy pushed away with a little too much force, causing Fran to back into the opposite counter.

"Bloody hell, Miss!" Fran barked, rubbing her backside where it had impacted in the sharp corner of the counter. She walked away, grabbing a magazine from the table before stomping into the parlor.

"Fran! Oh shit." Following her lover into the adjacent room, Missy sat cross-legged in front of Fran at her feet. "Sorry." She mewled.

"Forget it." Not looking up from her magazine. "Go finish your tea, if you're so hungry."

"Come on, Fran. Don't be pissy." Missy begged.

"Pissy? You're not the one who got thrown across the room." Fran mockingly rubbed her back side.

"Oh, like you can't take it." Before she knew what was happening, Fran was on top of her, pinning her to the floor.

"Let's not forget who's the Karate master then." Fran chided

Deciding that submission was her only option, Missy relaxed, and Fran felt the concession, relaxing her grip on Missy's arms. The forceful show had awakened her, and Fran sensed that her advances were now welcome. "Don't be gentle." Missy keened.

"I thought you were hungry?"

"I am."

*

All but three of them had left for home, but Samantha Roberts, Rod Taylor and Morey Brooks still had their drinks to finish. Sam toyed with the idea of letting the two men in on the game she was playing. She thought better of it, knowing that they would surely use the knowledge to gain an in with Missy Phillips. No, this would be her little secret.

Missy would have had no idea that Sam was in the ladies' that day. She had stepped into the supply closet to look for more loo paper and was completely out of sight. When Sam had heard the unmistakable sounds of arousal coming from the stall, she couldn't resist the temptation to observe, silently, from across the room.

It was only after a few moments of amused voyeurism that the idea struck her. Quietly slipping her phone from her purse, Sam silenced it and awaited the ultimate moment to strike. She thought about making a big deal of it, bursting over the top with a classic 'gotcha!'. But then a much more devious plan emerged from the recesses of her mind.

She had no idea who the person was in the stall, but she would soon find out. The muted whimpers of an impending orgasm were her signal to act. Holding her phone up over the side of the partition, she snapped three consecutive photos and quickly retreated. Fully expecting an angry reaction from the person, she held her breath. All she heard in response was the breathy aftermath of the woman's pleasure.

Sitting at her desk, Sam stealthily opened her phone and scrolled down to the last three pictures and was nearly dumbfounded when she saw Missy Phillips in the throes of orgasmic bliss on the screen. Three offices away, she knew that her 'victim' was returning to her desk a bit shagged and fagged from the date with her hand.

She didn't hate Missy. On the contrary, she had always admired her for her nonchalant coming out, shortly after being hired. She laughed inwardly with the memory of all the boys in the office and what must have been a simultaneous let down over the revelation.

Her plan was simple. It was straight up, sexual blackmail and she set about making it happen. Sam doubted that Missy would ever comply with her 'tasks' and planned on simply dropping the whole thing when they hadn't been met. In fact, Sam hadn't even dreamed up a second task as she was so convinced that Missy would call her bluff. So, it was with some amount of trepidation that she walked into the office the following day, half doubting and half hoping that her task had been carried through.

Chapter Two

Fran was still sleeping when Missy slipped out of the door and made for the car park. The spring air was cold against her privates as she became vividly aware of what she was doing. Even with her coat, she could feel her nipples pebbling and rubbing against the liner of the thing.

"Jesus. What the hell am I doing?" For a moment, Missy gave serious thought to heading straight back to her flat and donning some panties. She could most likely pull of the braless look but going bare assed in the skirt she was wearing was practically insane. The short A-line rested midway up her thighs and although she had gone without hose a few times, Missy knew that she would be exposed, even with the most careful bend. God forbid I drop something.

The image on her computer screen came crashing into her mind and was enough to prevent her from reneging on her task. As hard as she tried, Missy couldn't keep her skirt under her ample bottom as she drove, and the smooth leather upholstery felt cool against her exposed privates. She tried to keep herself from imagining the same thing happening in the office; speaking with colleagues in her chair while her bare pussy pressed lewdly into the microfiber seat. "Fuck me."

Missy prayed that there wasn't a sudden gust of wind as she walked in from the car park to the office. She really didn't need a Marilyn Monroe moment on top of being nervous as a tick over what the day would bring. Fortunately, the day was calm aside from the cool temperatures, which still had her nipples standing to attention under her coat. She would have to wait until she warmed up a bit before losing it. It was a normal sight to see people with their overcoats on in the morning as they waited for the central heating to kick in, although she had never been one of them.

As Missy exited the lift, she nodded to a girl who seemed to be waiting for her to come out, but then instead of getting on, simply walked the other way. Must have forgotten something, she thought. Settling her things, she tried to remember the girl's name and chided herself for her poor memory. Missy did remember that she worked in accounts receivable, however.

As Missy sat down, she was starkly reminded of what was missing, as the somewhat rough surface of the chair nudged up against her labia, the fabric of the skirt only managing to cover her bum. Squirming from side to side, Missy resigned herself to the fact that this was a feeling she would need to get used to.

Flipping on her computer, the little reminder box popped up from her email account, and she dreaded opening it. Instead she went about her normal routine of addressing incoming inquiries and requests for assistance. She had been in technical support for nearly three years and loved her job. She hated to imagine losing it.

Finally, her wits could not fathom delaying the inevitable for another minute and she opened her email account. Amongst the normal business was the thing she dreaded seeing.

MAPhillips

Subject: Good girl or bad girl?

Well, Missy? Which is it to be? Have you complied with the parameters of

the task, or am I going to have to share that nasty little photo of you enjoying

yourself in the ladies'? How about a nice up-skirt photo? If I fail to receive

your reply before ten am I will assume you have decided to call my bluff.

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor

Missy looked up at the wall clock positioned at the end of the room and panicked. It was nine fifty and precious little time to comply with the request. Digging in her purse she grabbed her phone and waited for traffic by her desk to stop. As she was quite near the door, it was a bit of a wait. Finally, she saw no one coming and dipped the phone beneath the desk. To her horror, the relative darkness between her legs triggered the flash, and she freaked for a moment until she realized that no one noticed.

Unplugging her charger from the wall, she inserted the USB end into her computer and uploaded the picture; another no-no in the rule book. By the time she had attached the photo and sent the email it was nine fifty-eight. "Jesus H—"

"How's your day, Missy?" Rod Taylor hovered over her, and for a moment she thought she might have left something open that she shouldn't have. He looked down at her phone and shook his head. "You might want to charge that at the power point, babe. You know how they are about web security around here."

"Yeah? Yes, thank you, Rod. Momentary lapse in judgement." She smiled nervously. As she watched him walk away, she realized how close she had come to being caught, again. Momentary lapse in judgement? Fucking enormous lapse in judgement, for Christ's sake."

Without so much as a moment's rest, her email box pinged again. This time Missy wasted no time in opening it.

MAPhillips

Subject: Cutting things a bit close?

Nevertheless, well done. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised you went along with this

little game of mine. Anyway, you have avoided humiliation, at least for now.

I shall have to email you back with your second task, 'good girl'. Good luck

getting through the day without exposing yourself.

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor.

Missy closed the email and huffed. She had honestly thought that the one task would be where things would end. Now, not only did this person have the image from the restroom, but a blazingly naughty image of her quim. She imagined them dreaming up some ridiculously humiliating task, and now with even more damning evidence against her, she would most certainly be forced to comply.

*

Samantha Roberts sat in awe of what she had accomplished. Having managed to humiliate Missy Phillips once, she now had to think of some way to top the task she had assigned for that day. She imagined Missy struggling to maintain her composure as she went about her day, her pussy bare beneath her too short skirt. How delightfully naughty, she mused.

She had only just managed to catch a glimpse of the proof. She certainly didn't want anyone to catch her staring at dirty pictures on her phone, especially of a woman. One thing she did notice was the abundance of hair on that lesbian pussy. All the images of girl on girl sex she had ever seen showed them without hair. Of course, those were designed for men to ogle over. Perhaps the opposite was true in the real world.

That afternoon found her lacking anything meaningful to do, so she wandered down to the technical support office, to see what she could see. The wall that faced the hallway was mostly windows, as it was in her department, so she was afforded a nice view of Missy at her desk. Hers was closest to the door, which allowed for a wonderful view of her nipples jutting out through her blouse.

Not wanting to be seen, Sam set up just behind Missy, striking up a conversation with Rod who happened by as she arrived. She could see the hem of Missy's skirt riding up just slightly on the side. She was most certainly unaware, as a good portion of her left cheek was exposed where it contacted the seat of the chair. It would have gone unnoticed to anyone without a certain inside knowledge of the situation.

Finishing her conversation with Rod and arranging for another go 'round at the pub that Friday, she hurried back to cubical. She knew exactly what Missy's next task was going to be, although she wondered if she was perhaps crossing a line.

*

Missy had had a few close calls that day, and all had the potential to be disastrous. At the copy machine, she had mishandled some papers and they had floated to the floor in disarray. Hesitating to pick them up right away, one of the young office assistants bent to help. Only after he began did she realize he would have had a wonderful view if he had looked up. Manners would dictate that she could step away as someone was doing a kindness, so she stood her ground, praying that he never looked up.

The most recent, and the incident that carried with it the most potential for severe consequences was the meeting. Mrs. Alexander had called a meeting of all the tech staff to overview some changes to the software that would enhance interaction between the customers and techs. As the meeting was concluding, an engineer managed to catch the edge of Missy's skirt with a screwdriver that was hanging from his service belt.

Missy had felt the pulling at once and reached to hold the hem to her skirt down, but it was already too late. Her entire buttock was out and as the man continued to walk, unawares, her entangled skirt was in danger of exposing even more. Fortunately, there had been no one behind her at the time, but she was fairly confident that the engineer had caught an eyeful when he turned to apologize. She had no way of knowing just how much of her anatomy he had been privy to and nothing more had been said.

Aside from the close brushes with exposure, Missy was beside herself over her continuous state of arousal. Even though in her mind, this experience was intolerable, her pussy had other ideas entirely.

It was very nearly five o'clock before the next dreaded email arrived. She hoped that it never would, and yet a part of her was almost anxious to find out what it held as the icon popped at the bottom of her screen.

MAPhillips

Subject: Task #2

'Fuzzy wuzzy was all bare, fuzzy wuzzy had no hair—' hmm... that doesn't

really work for you, now does it? The rhyme will fit like a charm tomorrow though.

Such a furry little beast down there, aren't we? Shave it. Oh, and the same rules

apply tomorrow as today. Underwear ist verboten!

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor

Missy failed to find any humor at all in the email, despite its obvious jovial tone. She closed down her computer, donned her coat and was the last one out of the office. She was nearly home when she remembered Fran asking her to pick up a tin of coffee for the morning. There were only a few things that frightened her, and one of them was Fran without her morning cup of java.