Saint to Slut in Just Seven Days Ch. 01

Introduction.

Samantha is a woman in her late twenties who works as a secretary, something she has done since the end of the summer break after her final year of high school. She had been feeling at a bit of a loss as so many teenagers do when they have completed high school. She had no plans to go on to university and the careers that had interested her as a young teenager seemed impossibly distant or completely unrealistic. She had no formal training other than her high school diploma and really no clue what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

The hints from her parents about getting a job got less and less subtle as summer went on, but ironically, the more pressure they applied the deeper her funk became. Finally, after a moment of clarity and frustration at herself she decided to go out and just apply for anything and everything. Several weeks of this with no success, however, had just made her depression worse. On one of the last days of Summer she agreed to meet with one of her school friends for a day in the city. Her friend was heading off to university at the end of the week and Sam knew on some level that they were drifting apart so she wanted to make the effort for one last day with her friend. It had a strange sense of finality, as though it was their last day of childhood and freedom.

Samantha arrived in the city early and was walking from the train station. She had about an hour and a half to fill before her friend would be here and she was trying to decide what to do with herself. She walked past a high-rise building and an A4 piece of paper sticky taped to the window caught her eye. She couldn't have said what it was about it that got her attention over a multitude of other bits of paper stuck to windows and poles that she hadn't looked at. It was a simple notice stating that one of the firms in the building was looking for a receptionist and to ask at the reception desk.

Knowing she had some time to kill and that she had dressed nicely for her day in the city she figured she would go in and ask about the job. If nothing else it's good practise, she told herself as she entered the lobby. The man at the reception desk explained that it was for a business there and directed her where to go and to ask for Mario when she got there.

She followed his directions to the elevators and pressed the correct floor number. All the way up she was fine until the doors opened and it hit home that she was going to apply for a job that she had practically no skills in and certainly no experience. She felt like a ridiculous fraud and almost turned back around. If the elevator hadn't shut and sped off to another floor the moment she stepped out she probably would have.

"What have you got to lose, Sam?"

She whispered to herself as she walked around the curved corridor until she came to the already open door of the office. She stepped inside and looked around but couldn't see anyone there. She waited for a full minute that felt like an hour in the silence before she garnered the nerve to call out.

"Hello?"

There was a rustling from the office to her left then a man came out of it and looked at her.

"Uh... Hi. I was told to ask for Mario?"

The man smiled at her and it did something magical to his face. He went from looking like a stern professional with no time for an annoying young girl to waste and transformed into a paternal and friendly grandfather who had nothing he would rather do than sit down and talk with her. She instantly felt comfortable and at home with him. He held out his hand for her to shake which she took and was surprised when he didn't do what most men do and try to crush her hand in a show of masculine dominance.

"I am Mario. Have you come about the job?"

"Hi, I'm Samantha. Yes, I have, if you have time."

He smiled again.

"Time I have, a secretary, I don't. Unfortunately, the lady who previously held the position has had a rather unfortunate emergency and won't be back. What can you tell me about yourself?"

It was about as informal as an interview could be and Sam found herself quite comfortably telling Mario all he asked about her and she admitted that she was fresh out of school and had no real work experience that would apply to the job of secretary. He smiled and nodded and then explained that he actually preferred to have someone who he didn't have to train bad habits out of.

By the time she had met her friend, she was in shock and a little bit pleased with herself for having landed her first real job. The only thing that concerned her was having to borrow some money from her parents so that she could buy a couple of semi-professional-looking outfits for it.

She was nervous because they didn't have a lot of money and she hated putting more pressure on them financially. She needn't have worried though, they were so happy to hear that she had got a job that her mother seemed to be excited at the prospect of taking her shopping for the outfits. They were a little concerned about her having to travel to the city every day, she was in their eyes still their little girl but as she pointed out to them, it wouldn't be long until she was legally an adult. They couldn't really argue too loudly about it either as they had both pushed her pretty hard to go get a job and that's exactly what she had done. Not to mention the imagined prestige of working for a firm in a high-rise building in the city. To her parents, this was a success beyond their wildest dreams.

In reality, it was far less glamorous and once she learned the ropes, she discovered that it isn't an overly interesting or challenging job; however, she likes the fact that she is working for a small family business and not some giant, faceless corporation. It's enough of a job to keep her busy most of the day but she is rarely pushed to panic. It does happen but very rarely.

The company she had worked for over the last twelve years was, up until very recently, a father/son business. She quite enjoyed working for the father, Mario. He was a real gentleman and worked very hard to build the business up for his family. It was his pride and joy. Over the last five years or so he had often spoken of retiring but everybody knew that the only way he was leaving the business was feet first. It was the thing he loved the most after his wife and his son. Sadly, the inevitable happened. Thankfully for all concerned, he passed away in his sleep. Samantha was quite relieved that the way he had passed meant that she hadn't walked into work and found him deceased at his desk or on the office floor, something she had had nightmares about.

Mario was a very humble man and although he dressed in nicely tailored suits, his son, Stefan, seemed a little flashier and on their first meeting, Samantha, didn't think much of him. It turned out to be a misconception though, as what she thought was a certain arrogance turned out to be a shyness that she hadn't expected him to have. She didn't get much of a chance to get to know him all that well because he had been out on the road as a representative of the business and working with clients who couldn't make it into the city. He was only in the office once or twice a month and most of that time was spent in his father's office.

After that first meeting, the few times she had spoken to him he had been very polite and quite nice, although, for some reason, he didn't come across as all that confident when talking to her. She wondered if it was just her or women in general that he wasn't all that confident around. She also noticed that he was very attractive. He seemed quite fit and healthy but not in a "look at my glorious body" kind of way. He used the same tailor as his father and his suits fit him very well.

When Mario passed away the business was closed for the whole week while the family held a funeral and dealt with family matters. Samantha felt certain that was going to be the end of her job and wasn't at all surprised when she was called into the office on that Friday afternoon to discuss her job. She went in fully expecting to be told to pack her things up but was pleasantly surprised to be told that her position was safe for the foreseeable future.

Stefan would be taking over his father's role in the business and they would be employing someone to take on his former role. He admitted there would be teething problems because, although he knew the business inside and out, he wasn't used to being in one place all the time, or the pressure of being at the top of the food chain with no one to defer to. The hardest part, though, was going to be handing control of what had been his role in the business over to someone he didn't know or trust yet.

They discussed Samantha's role in the business and Stefan emphasised her value and that he hoped they would work well together. He was surprisingly candid and confessed his fears and nervousness. His vulnerability was surprising and very appealing to her. Adding to that, his close proximity to her all afternoon was having quite an effect on her. He was intelligent but shy, attractive but not overconfident, he dressed well and he smelt particularly nice too. He was having quite an effect on her libido, something that not many people had managed to do previously and certainly not recently.

Samantha had not had a lot of experience with relationships. Certainly, none as a teenager and she remained a virgin right up until her twenty-first birthday when she, with the aid of a lot of alcohol, got up the courage to say yes to a friend who had been showing interest for almost two years. What followed was an awkward night of drunken, inexperienced sex that potentially could have been disastrous yet she enjoyed it far more than she expected she would.

That night of drunken passion didn't lead to a relationship but it did lead to a "friends with benefits" type scenario that helped build her self-confidence in her sexuality a great deal. It was a nice couple of years until he met the woman that he would eventually marry. They were still friends but she felt a little awkward whenever they spent time together now. He hadn't made any advances since beginning his relationship with his wife and there was nothing to feel guilty about. That didn't change the fact that every time she spent time with them, she couldn't help but wonder if he and his wife did the same things in bed that she had done with him. She couldn't forget the fact that she had had his cock inside her. That she had tasted his cum and he hers. She struggled to get the feeling of his naked skin against hers out of her mind. She didn't want to make things uncomfortable for them and every time she spent time around him, she ended up horny and it was frustrating for her, so as a result she spent less time with them.

Having that little bit more self-confidence helped her to find partners for a night's passion here and there and eventually a couple of boyfriends over the years. She genuinely felt quite strongly about them but had she been in love? She wasn't sure that she had ever been in love really, certainly not enough to give up her apartment and move in with the last one despite his desire to do that. She liked the freedom of her life and didn't feel ready to change that for anyone just yet. She did enjoy learning new things about her sexual desires though and experiencing new things. Not that she had done anything that might be considered unusual or extraordinary. Her sex life would be considered quite vanilla by today's standards but a world of possibilities had been opened for her.

She was quite shy as a teenager and could never have approached anyone with sexual intentions. Just the thought of doing something like that would have driven her into an anxious, sweaty, mess. She had a small group of friends in high school but they were all rather bookish and weren't exactly confident themselves. Truth be told they were all nerds who had that typical scenario of being a little too much into their favourite thing. This caused them to be the recipients of a lot of teasing and bullying. Samantha was always taller than her peers and in fact taller than most of the boys at her school. Being a teenager and still growing into her body she was gangly and awkward and this was the focus of most of her bullying. She knew she stood out from the rest and she became very self-conscious about it.

Her friend group were almost all into reading fantasy novels and although they were all in the same situation as her as far as being typical horny teenagers, they were all painfully shy about that type of thing. Sure, they all read fantasy novels that covered some pretty erotic and out-there sexual situations but they never really had the nerve to broach the subject with each other beyond recommending books to each other. They knew on some level that they were essentially sharing around the things that turned them on but they would never say that out loud.

Samantha, like any teenager, certainly masturbated quite a bit and she had her share of fantasies but they were ill-informed due to lack of experience and although exciting, were pretty unadventurous. There was one consistency in her fantasies though and that was she was always more confident. Confident in her sexuality and confident with her approach to men in general. She worked out later on that many of the other teens at her school were sexually active but the thought of having the gall to approach someone because she was attracted to them seemed to be beyond her. The thought of being confident enough to be naked in front of one of those men that she was attracted to just seemed impossible and filled her with anxiety.

Samantha came from a very normal household. Her parents were warm, caring and loving people. They weren't overly social people but they didn't shy away from social situations either. They weren't religious and had no strict morals or rules and they were very approachable. She wasn't an unattractive girl, although, she considered herself to be a bit plain. The truth was she had the potential to be a stunning young woman if she didn't always hide away from the world. She dressed plainly, wore nothing that drew attention to herself, kept her long hair in a tight ponytail and very rarely wore makeup.

The following is the story in Samantha's own words about how your life can change drastically in the space of a week.

Day 1, Monday:

This isn't a confession as such and it's not a diary entry as I have never kept a diary in my life; it is just the sordid story of how my life changed in a week.

It started with me doing something that I hadn't done in a long time. Perhaps because it had been so long since the last time that I was out of practice. It was something that I avoided doing as much as possible. I didn't enjoy doing it because it filled me with dreaded anxiety and it was generally a rather depressing exercise. What is this incredibly difficult and tedious task, you may well ask? Did she go bungee jumping? Sky diving? MMA fighting? Well, no, nothing that extreme but it sometimes felt like it to me. I went clothes shopping. Worse still, I went clothes shopping during a time when I was feeling quite confident. Sundays find me relaxed and combined with the good weather tends to have me feeling good about life and therefore a bit more confident.

Monday morning comes around, however, and I am not the same person I was on Sunday afternoon. I looked at the clothes I had purchased yesterday and laid out to wear today and wondered if I was perhaps mildly deranged yesterday. Did I drink alcohol at lunchtime? No, I don't think I did. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, don't get me wrong, it was a very cute skirt and blouse combo and, when matched with a jacket I already had, it was a very nice outfit. But and I do mean a large, all capital letters "BUT" here, that skirt was way shorter than any other skirt I had ever bought before.

This might sound ridiculous, but I usually used the "freckle" rule when buying skirts. Thanks to my Dutch heritage, I am fairly tall for a woman at six feet, two inches, and I have quite long legs. This was something I got teased about a lot as a kid so I had made a habit of trying to disguise my long legs with long skirts and dresses. Just over halfway down my thigh, closer to the knee than my butt, I have a freckle. I have never bought a skirt that didn't fall past the freckle, usually a long way past it. This skirt was above it. It felt way way way above it but in reality, it was about two inches above it. It wasn't obscenely short by anyone's standard but it was a lot shorter than any I had ever worn before and short enough to gain attention from those who liked to look. The thought of this gave me a small thrill but also terrified me.

I eyed the skirt suspiciously as though it had dared to shrink overnight but then, after a lot of self-goading, I told myself to get over it and just put the damn thing on. I pulled it up and slid the zipper up after tucking in my blouse, then turned to look in the mirror. To my surprise I discovered that it looked good, I mean really good, perhaps a little too good if you catch my meaning. I was impressed with the way it hugged my thighs and accentuated my butt. I liked the way I looked in it and although it was quite a professional-looking skirt it was somewhat sexier than I usually wear.

It was at that moment that I thought of Stefan. He was, undoubtedly, a good-looking man. He always wore the nicest tailor-made suits and he had a very nice figure. Such a great squeezable ass. I blushed as I thought about getting a nice firm handful of his ass and perhaps a handful of something else might make a nice change too.

"For fuck's sake, Samantha, has it really been that long? Are you that incapable of getting through the day without thinking about cock?"

I blushed even further, realising that I was talking out loud to myself and thinking far too much about cock. It wasn't something that I would normally obsess over but just lately there had felt like a distinct lack of it in my life. I hadn't even bothered trimming lately and to say it was a bit of a wild jungle down there was gross understatement. God help me if some random situation occurred, like I was hit by a bus and carted off in an ambulance, or even more terrifying, I found myself in bed with a man. I laughed at the ridiculousness of that thought but still vowed to tidy up a bit tonight. Perhaps a little attention and self-appreciation might help take my mind off the dry spell I had run up against.

My phone alarm started beeping and I realised I had dawdled and day-dreamed a little too long and now had to hurry to catch my train on time. I no longer had time to change my skirt now and the decision had been made for me. I threw my jacket on, picked up my bag and ran down the stairs. I grabbed a breakfast bar and my keys as I ran through the kitchen then I was out the front door. It was only two blocks to the train station and then down a huge flight of stairs to the subway. It would generally only take me ten minutes to get there and that would see me getting there just before the train arrived providing nothing goes wrong between here and there.

Thankfully it was a smooth trip, being early in the morning, and I made it onto the platform as I heard the train rumbling around the bend coming into the station. It was kind of nice to pretty much walk straight onto the train without waiting but it did leave me feeling rushed and when you start the day rushing around you feel like you never catch up.

I looked around the mostly empty carriage and chose a seat. One advantage of being near the end of the line when you get on the train is that you almost always get a seat straight away. I wasn't obsessed with getting a seat on my own because usually by the next station, or maybe the one after the carriage was pretty full anyway. Because I didn't catch the first or last train of the day either it was usually an express train, meaning that it stopped at fewer stations. It made it a much quicker, smoother trip into town. If I needed to get into town half an hour earlier than usual it meant I had to start out over an hour earlier. It was always busy on the first and last train of the day too.