tagIllustratedThe Panty Perils of Me 05

The Panty Perils of Me 05


I am home for the weekend giving me the chance to forget about all of my forced exposure over the past few weeks along with fulfilling my resolve to never do it again.

The hormonal gang of teens seems to be off doing other things particularly since the local pools have opened for the summer and now they have plenty of bikini wearing girls to ogle.

In a way I am a little disappointed at being replaced, however I now have the playground to myself again.

And as for the professor, I think he might be enjoying the photos that he took of me within the privacy of his home along with a bottle of hand lotion and a big box of Kleenex.

I do have plans to contact Arnold, but am putting it off until I am sure that I am back in control of myself.

And the better news is that Benjamin resigned from his father in law's company the day following his encounter with my bottom. It seems that he was smart enough to know that despite the secret that he held over me, his career still wasn't going anywhere. And his "I Quit' note written on my backside came off in the shower.

So it seems that everything is back to my idea of normal and that my clothes get to stay on.

I have been spending the day with my family at a local art fair wearing a casual red blouse emblazoned with quail along with a pair of nice fitting jeans and red heels.

Yes, I am one of those women that essentially wear heels with everything. My father kept a collection of pin up calendars from the 50's in his basement workshop and I used to sneak peeks at them whenever no one was around. These scantily clad ladies always had on heels and it seems that they have influenced me in possibly more ways than one.

I can feel my cell phone vibrating in my jeans pocket, so I reach in and look to see who might be calling. It is a number that I don't recognize, so I answer it.

Undoubtedly not the smartest thing that I do on a regular basis, but I am too curious to stop myself.

The caller identifies himself as Mr. Jack Whitmore, whose name sounds vaguely familiar. He tells me that he is Benjamin's father in law and the lights go on.

This is the man who Benjamin couldn't stand, which more or less resulted in my very red bottom and soaked panties.

I try to push the later memory out of my mind as I ask, "How can I help you?"

Mr. Whitmore tells me that he and his daughter have not heard from Benjamin since he left his resignation notice on my back.

I almost drop the phone at his statement making it quite clear that he either knew about Benjamin and my little meeting or saw me with the words "I quit" printed on my bareback while in his office.

Mr. Whitmore asks me for the sake of his daughter if I would come into his office as soon as possible. I try to explain that I am out with my family but his plea to help his daughter touches my heart and I agree.

From where we are it is only a short walk to Mr. Whitmore's office, so I tell my husband as little about the reason that I need to go and promise to meet with him as soon as I can.

How could I possibly explain that a resignation was printed in magic marker across my bare back shortly after I had received a sound spanking wearing only my underwear?

The memory sends a sudden tingling right between my legs and I try to ignore it.

"I am not that kind of woman." I try to convince myself as I head down the street.

Shortly I arrive at Mr. Whitmore's company and enter the front doors. I am surprised to see a receptionist there although she explains that she is Mr. Whitmore's personal secretary. She is dressed in a tight fitting navy blue business suit with a beautiful pin striped blouse that is unbuttoned just to the top of her bra.

The fuchsia colored lace of her bra cups poke provocatively from her exposed neckline.

The skirt of her suit just borders on the line of business appropriate as it ends at the middle of her thigh.

Her makeup is perfect; her hair is perfectly styled; and there is no doubt that she keeps herself in shape.

"Quite a personal secretary." I think to myself as I follow her to Mr. Whitmore's office.

Her particular style and appearance should have given me some premonition of what was to come.

She tentatively knocks on Mr. Whitmore's open door and we hear a voice telling us to enter. Much to my surprise he is with another man, who soon is identified as their head of security.

My entire body goes rigid as every muscle freezes in place.

"Why would the head of security be present unless everything was caught on tape."

My head feels like it is about to explode imagining these two men and who knows who else watched me strip, get spanked, and orgasm.

I have always tried to be the perfect model of decorum priding myself on my level headedness and ability to behave in a proper manner. But ever since the chain of events that begun so many weeks ago, I have lost myself to a much baser and very primal desire to act out sexually despite my belief that I have had no other choice.

Mr. Dempsey is a well-dressed businessman in his early 60's who could lose about 40 lbs. His suit fits perfectly hiding the extra weight that he bears. Although he is only about 5'8" tall he still commands your attention with his steely set eyes and direct manner of staring right through you.

His had of security is dressed in black trousers and a tight fitting black t-shirt. Obviously he had been called in on his day off as well.

He is an imposing figure in his late 40's, standing well over 6 ' tall and extremely muscular.

I am immediately intimidated by both of them.

The office itself is a study in modern design with chrome and leather furnishings making it a bit cold and rather clinical.

As my head fills with an overwhelming dread I hear Mr. Dempsey (the head of security) explain that my little unclothed foray into Mr. Whitmore's office was caught on tape as the security cams automatically turn on after office hours.

I audibly exhale in relief over this fact. It seems that my performance in the conference room was still confined to two witnesses i.e. Benjamin and myself, although how do I explain my state of undress while entering Mr. Whitmore's office.

No sooner as the thought enters my brain, Mr. Dempsey asks why I was traipsing the halls of their company in just my lingerie and how did my dress find its way into Mr. Whitmore's office?

The flush of embarrassment that covers me form head to toe only adds to my inability to come up with a viable reason for my state of undress.

Mr. Dempsey goes on to explain the fact that the company deals with patents and copyrights, so it is very important to examine any violation of their security measures.

"So this has nothing to do with Benjamin." I quickly realize.

The only reason that I agreed to this meeting was a lie.

I still can't come up with an explanation for my previous nudity and continue to stand in front of the two men speechless and dumbfounded.

"You are here today so that we can determine why you were in my office and what other than your dress did you possibly see or take. It wouldn't be the first time that we have been subject to corporate espionage." Mr. Whitmore states matter of factly to me.

I try to explain that Benjamin and I had a severe misunderstanding resulting in him depositing my dress in his office and that I was only trying to retrieve it so I could go home.

It certainly doesn't explain my state of undress and we all know it.

Mr. Dempsey tells me to lean over the arms of one of the chrome and leather designer chairs in the office, as he needs to frisk me.

In a voice shaking with emotion I start to tell them that I would never steal anything from the company and even if I had, why would I have any evidence on me now?

Just as my first words of explanation start to leave my mouth, Mr. Dempsey roughly pushes me onto the chair so both arms support my body as I lean across the chair.

The entire time Mr. Whitmore just stares with a look of complete satisfaction.

Mr. Dempsey proceeds to frisk me by placing his hands around my torso sliding them down the front of my shirt realizing immediately that I am not wearing a bra as his ogre hands detect my hardening nipples through the cotton fabric of my shirt.

I immediately start to voice my objection and am told to "Be quiet!"

I bite my lower lip as his hands slip down to my waist and I feel his fingers take a hold of the fabric of my jeans ripping my front snap open. My entire body tenses in disbelief as the force of his tug pulls the zipper of my jeans completely apart.

As I futilely try to hold on to my opening pants, Mr. Dempsey orders me to keep my hands on the arm of the chair.

I am shaking and on the verge of tears, but comply with his orders to remain still.

He takes a hold of the waistband and pulls my jeans down off of my hips and buttocks revealing my bright red bikini panties to both him and Mr. Whitmore.

My entire body reacts to Mr. Dempsey's forced removal of my pants.

I feel so helpless and vulnerable and at the same time, so very alive.

My jeans are unceremoniously yanked down my thighs, and I am instructed to lift one leg and then the other as Mr. Dempsey slides them off of my legs and throws them into the corner of the office.

Any sense of modesty or sanctity leaves me as the last bit of fabric is pulled from my extended leg.

I hear Mr. Whitmore utter "Very nice" as I am fully revealed from the waist down for his voyeuristic pleasure.

My humiliation knows no bounds as Mr. Dempsey again frisks me, but this time his large hands reach under my shirt and his fingers pinch each one of my now very erect nubs.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to stifle the moan that wants to escape my lips.

With two fingers he traps each of my nipples and squeezes them sending shockwaves of tingling, uninviting pleasure into my groin.

His hands then move down my stomach, over my belly button, and across my lower abdomen, getting closer and closer to my nylon covered kitty.

I suck in my stomach and hold my breath as if this will stop his progress downward.

He cups my mound with one large paw grinning to the CEO saying, "There seems to be a small knot hidden here", as his fingers push against my lower lips.

My entire body flushes in mortification. How can such a degrading experience be so exciting to me?

I continue to remain motionless except for the subtle tremors of excitement going on in my crotch.

He now grips both cheeks of my bottom giving them a hard squeeze commenting on how firm they are. All I can do is remain bent over the chair and let him explore my barely covered body hoping that it will be all over soon while at the same time hating myself for wanting it to continue.

Finally he finishes feeling me up for the second time and I think that my ordeal is over.

"Well, Ms. Harley, it seems that you have a special knack for spending time undressed", Mr. Whitmore, says as he gets up from behind his desk and moves towards me.

I feel his hand on my lower back as he traces the curve of my spine down to the top of my panties. His other hand now finds its way up along my thigh causing my flesh to quiver and goose pimple.

"How exquisite." I hear him say as he squeezes my nylon-covered buttocks placing both hands on my hips.

I am shaking so bad and can't tell whether it is from fear, humiliation or excitement as he presses his groin against my almost bare bottom. I can feel his tube of firm flesh finding its way between my cheeks as he humps me a couple of times holding firmly onto my bare hips.

I find myself again biting my lips so he can't hear my moan of pleasure knowing that he requires very little encouragement to continue.

I can feel myself getting wet just as to my horror, Mr. Whitmore, reaches up between my legs and lightly pushes against my red nylon covered crotch.

"How delightful." he exclaims as he rubs my telltale knot causing me to moan aloud.

Then out of nowhere he states, "I think that this is enough for today, Ms. Harley, however I fully expect to see some more of you in the future."

It is almost like a coitus interruptus as my body begs for more.

I can't believe that it is over and I quickly retrieve my jeans from the corner and head out of his office, not even bothering to put them back on. I am ashamed of the sexual energy emanating from me as I leave the building and head to the front door.

It isn't until I reach the reception area that I realize that I am about to step outside pantless.

At the same time Ms. Personal Secretary coos from behind the reception desk, "Did you enjoy your meeting, Ms. Harley?"

I want to shoot her a look that will kill her on the spot but I am too embarrassed to conjure up much more than a weak smile.

Then she adds a line that freezes me in my tracks, "We all loved your spanking video.

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