Subjugating Sarah Ch. 03

"I could always contact the other offices to make sure there won't be any conflicts," I said, suggesting a much-needed solution to the problem we were discussing.

It was no different than all the years I had worked in the office. Here we were, a team. Coworkers. I was just one of them.

Instead that now, I wasn't wearing anything other than my heels. I still couldn't believe it. At first, I had accepted wearing lingerie. Then going without bras and panties. Now I had reduced it all down to heels and a fucking choker.

I was addicted to their gazes all over my body. I was addicted to the feeling of overwhelming femininity that came with being a vulnerable, naked girly girl all around men in suits. It felt like their eyes kept touching my body, and I loved it.

But I still tried to hide it as much as I could. And I'd play the part of the angry and bossy bitch.

***

"Here's the files," I said, giving them to James.

"You look so hot," he said, his eyes on my breasts.

I groaned, throwing the files at him as he would not take them, seemingly enthralled by my tits right in his face. "You don't talk to a colleague like that."

"What if she's a total hottie?" Mark said, standing behind me, leering at my ass.

"Urgh..." It was really hard not to smile.

Call me vain or easily swayed, but I had never had compliments like that. I had lived all my life as a tomboy, and to suddenly get heaps of praises calling me a hottie, sexy, beautiful, well... it felt new, and cool, and amazing.

"You guys are such fucking pigs," I groaned, putting on my angry armor. "Instead of praising my organizational skills or something like that, all you praise is my tits and ass."

"Not just those," Kevin remarked. "We praise your whole body."

I gave him a death glare.

"Easy, easy," Mark said, laughing. "Hey, we praised your organizational skills and everything for four years. Now we're praising you for how much of a hottie you are."

"Fuck all of you," I said, leaving the room.

I made sure to arch my back so they had a good view of my ass as I left.

A few weeks passed. At this point, my official uniform was now just that, nude in heels. I had promised myself it would only be a passing fad, but it was now my reality to always be fully nude around my colleagues of four years.

One day, I was bringing documents to Steve. Paul was right behind me, and Steve sitting in front of me.

"I can't find the signature," Steve said.

I leaned forward to show him. That's when I noticed how he looked at me. My tits were right in his face.

"You have such a great ass, girl," Paul said behind me.

I took a deep breath. It looked like I was trying to stay calm and not get angry. It was mostly me trying not to get too turned on. I loved the way he towered over me dominantly, all clothed and manly, calling me "girl."

I just arched my back and leaned forward even more sensually. My breasts were now right up in Steve's face, and my ass fully presented to Paul.

"You like it when I do that?" I asked.

They nodded, pleased with the show I was putting on for them. God, I was acting like such a slut...

***

A week after that, I was going through some files when Luke approached me.

"Why the pouting?" he asked.

"You know why," I said, annoyed. "You're all doing that thing again."

"Doing what?"

"Your clever fucking tactic thing. When you wanted me to take my lingerie off, you stopped looking at me. Now you all stopped praising me and giving me compliments for an entire week."

He shrugged, playing it all innocent-like. "We thought maybe you didn't like it."

I slapped his suit-wearing chest with one of the files. "Bullshit! I'm a fucking girl, I love the compliments and everything! I like it when you tell me I'm sexy, you know that..."

"Well, well... Looks like miss strong independent female is confessing. Turns out you do like being a naked hottie around your male colleagues."

"Oh, fuck off..."

I was about to storm off, but he gently put a hand on my arm. It made me blush. They'd do these little things sometimes, like gently putting hands on my hips to put me aside if they needed to get somewhere and I was in the way, or using my arm to turn me around.

It would have been extremely inappropriate behavior in any other situation, but this wasn't any other situation. I liked how they almost... took control, whenever they did this. Especially with me being naked and all. It reminded me of how vulnerable I ultimately was in this situation. How at any moment, they could... I don't know... Do whatever they wanted with me.

Just thinking about the possibility turned me on.

Luke looked at me after stopping me. "If you want praises, you have to show that you want them."

"How do I do that?"

"Be eye-candy. Do it properly."

I pouted and groaned, almost childlike. "I'm not eye-candy..."

"Yes you are."

I couldn't help but get even more turned on. How I could I not, with him towering above me like that, all powerful?

"What should I do?" I asked.

"Stop being the strong independent girl who demands respect. Put yourself up on a desk, don't move, and don't say anything. Just let us guys take in the beautiful view."

"Oh... Is that how it is? I should just be decoration?"

"I said you shouldn't say anything. You're still talking."

I scoffed. I couldn't believe the audacity, the fucking gall. I had fucking trained him and been his mentor when he had joined the office three years ago. Had spent years scolding him for his errors and putting him in his place, and now he was talking to me like this.

Muttering curses under my breath, I moved over to the nearest desk, took off my heels, and climbed it, kneeling there like a silent piece of furniture. Luke called the guys around and told them how I was there for them to look at. Soon, those coworkers who were around were surrounding me, walking around me and looking at me like an object on display in a museum.

"Ass out," Robert said, "arch your back, bring your tits out. You want to please the male eyes, don't you?"

I nodded, remembering that I couldn't talk. I did as he said and kept that pose.

Holy fuck... I felt so vulnerable... There I was, completely offered to their eyes, wearing absolutely nothing. Immobile, not allowed to move or speak, just please the all-powerful male gaze all around me.

"What a great looking hottie."

"That's how you keep an office girl. Naked and on display."

"It should be illegal to let Sarah wear clothes."

They weren't even talking to me. I was just some object, some animal in a zoo they were there to enjoy with their eyes. Eventually though, Kurt asked me how I was doing. I gave him and all the guys my best death stare.

"Fuck all of you," I groaned with my teeth grinding.

Eventually, they went back to whatever they had to do. I went down the desk and was about to put my heels back on, and just go on with the day. But I realized I couldn't. I realized I needed more.

So I went to all the guys in the office, one by one, and told them to all come to the leisure room after our shifts were over.

When it was time, all the guys were there, sitting in the leisure room. I placed myself in the center of the room, totally naked, offering my body to their gazes. Everywhere, from every angle, their eyes dominated my body.

"Why did you call us here?"

I groaned. "Because fuck it. You want the only woman in the office to be the office slut? Fine. Here's some eye candy for you fucks."

And I started posing. I wanted to be their hot slut. I wanted to pose away like a whore, blatantly making myself as sexy as possible. I wanted their eyes to use me and enjoy every inch of my body bared just for them.

The evening came to and end, and we all walked back to our cars in the parking outside the office. By then, I had put my clothes back on.

And you know what the weird thing is? It felt weird. To be clothed around them.

I had been naked around them for weeks by this point. And every time I wore clothes around them, it felt odd. Abnormal. Like something was wrong. It was almost like the natural dynamic between us was one of asymmetry, of slight power dynamics with them towering over me, clothes on, manly. Suddenly, they were now talking to me again like their coworker, like I was "one of the boys."

And I don't know, it just felt like something natural was missing. Like an essential part of the natural dynamic was out of the picture, and we were forcibly acting out something unnatural. It just didn't feel right anymore; to be treated like I was one of them.

I wasn't. I was the office's female. The only one. I was different, special, unique, and now I wasn't receiving this special treatment, this special attention anymore. Now, instead of feeling full connection with my femininity, of feeling graceful and sexy and seductive and vulnerable, I just felt the oppressive feeling of clothes on me. And they disconnected me from my feeling of raw womanhood the way prison bars disconnected a prisoner from freedom.

What the fuck was going on with me? Was I... was I fucking CRAVING all of that?! To be degraded, sexualized, kneeling at the foot of men towering above me in full power?

I noticed Andrew approaching me.

"Hey," I said, trying to hide my inner turmoil. "What's up."

"Nothing," he said. "It's just, we all noticed something, and thought we'd tell you."

"What is it?"

"Well, you have an amazing smile. And it was great to see you looking happy."

I chuckled. "Why is that so special?"

Andrew didn't reciprocate my smile. "Sarah... we've never seen you happy. Ever. We've never seen you smile. And right now, when you were posing for us and showing off... wow. You were gleaming."

I let his words sink in. My brows furrowed as an intense anger took over. "Oh, shut the fuck up," I groaned.

"What?"

"Don't fucking say that!" I almost shouted. I didn't want to hear it, I didn't. "Don't fucking tell me I was happy when in there. I'm happy NOW. Wearing clothes, being treated like an equal human being. Don't you DARE tell me THAT made me happy!"

I turned away from him and unlocked my car door.

"What's so wrong with that?" he asked.

I turned to him with a death glare. "Of course, you'd ask that, you'll never fucking get it Andrew! Not you, not the others! You don't know what it's like, you're men! You'll never have to wonder if you're fucking brainwashed every time you want to look good with makeup, every time you care how guys look at you, every time you fantasize about being handcuffed..." I sighed, exhausted. "Let's consider for one second that I was actually happy there. Happy for the first time in years. What would that say about me? What kind of person does that make me? What kind of WOMAN does that make me?"

I sat down in my car with the door still open. I needed to calm down, but I barely could.

"Sarah, for four years, all we've seen you like is stressed out, angry, frustrated, anxious..."

"That's the fucking point, Andrew! Not just those four years, but the other six I've worked in other offices! All those ten years, I was powerful, I stood up to men, I carved my space in a man's world... and I wasn't happy. And now the moment I strip naked, crawl on the ground like a fucking bitch putting on a show for men's eyes... I'm happy?!"

I shoved my keys into the ignition and turned on my car.

"No," I said. "I will never accept that. I CAN'T have been happy doing that. I was way happier before I accepted this stupid idea of being the office slut."

"We don't have a problem with you lying to us, Sarah. You can keep pretending you hate it, and the only reason you're doing it is to please us. But don't hurt yourself by lying to yourself."

I didn't want to hear it. I drove out the parking and headed straight home. I downed an entire glass of whiskey to send me to sleep and jumped into bed immediately.

That night, I had a dream. It was about a promotion. There I was, in the office like always, and it was announced that I was now the boss. Not just the team manager, but the office's boss. We didn't have one, our hierarchy was based on equal division of tasks and the higher ups would send us clear monthly goals by e-mail, but in the dream, it was decided we needed one boss for the entire office. And I was chosen for the post.

In the dream, I patted myself on the back. I told myself: "this is it." The culmination of my decade long career in offices. I had claimed my space as the only woman in a man's world and was now ruling this man's world. This was, by all accounts, a victory. And I told myself I had to be proud now. I had to be happy. Because that's what I wanted.

And then, for the rest of the dream, stress. More workloads. More exhaustion. More work, more responsibilities, more having to reign in and check on others' works. As the dream went on, it became clear that this was indeed a culmination: a culmination of exhaustion. Ten years of building up exhaustion over increasingly larger workloads and responsibilities, only to top it off with more than I had experienced before.

When I woke up, and realized it was a dream, I was insanely relieved.

Relieved. Yep. I was relieved I hadn't been promoted. Relieved I hadn't become the leader of all the men in the office with the most power. Relieved I hadn't gained more power.

The realization sank in my chest, and it made me feel anger towards myself again.

I checked my phone. Luke had texted me when I was asleep:

"Hey, we had a discussion after you left. If this is really making you feel worse, let's stop it all and go back to how it was before. We're not happy if you're not happy."

I put my work clothes on and drove to the office. When I entered, I saw Mark and James in the hallway.

"Hey," Mark said, smiling warmly, trying to be comforting. "You still look great in office clothes, you know?"

Chuckling, I began unbuttoning my shirt. A moment later, my breasts were bared, and the rest of my clothes were dropping to the floor.

"Clothes are for you guys. I'm the office girl. I have my own uniform."

Fine. I'd accept the uniform thing. No clothes for me because I'm a woman. "But it won't go any further than that," I told myself.

I had no idea how wrong I was.