Workplace Fun by Karen Ch. 03

In the previous story involving the birthday swatting of the nude sales lady I had noted some scars on her back from previous thrashings, something all my new workmates had endured, but still awaited my thirty years if I stayed on at the job until my birthday in January. My husband on telling of the naked birthday and accompanying ritual swatting had suggested that I would not be a coward and would take my punishment. Although afraid I was not going to let him down and had resolved to endure whatever happened.

But there was the matter of the brand marks I had noted on the naked sales lady as she worked all day nude and was beaten at lunchtime.

Once again the kinky spare parts department person, Angela was to blame.

She had seen the Story of O and had been turned on by the scene where O is branded .Consequently she had asked the mechanics in the work shop to make a branding iron. She chose the shape of a star and in front of the whole workforce was branded. From that another tradition started. Every year on the anniversary of your start date you would be branded by the same iron. Both the office staff and the mechanics in the workshop. It had also been decided that the star brands would form the pattern of the constellation the seven sisters so seven would be the maximum you could have.

The workers were very loyal and presumably content with the kinky goings on and most had reached the seven.

I must have looked confused and perhaps disbelieving so Maureen the boss took off her top to show me her seven.

Now I was not only facing a flogging on my January birthday but also a branding when I completed my first year on the job in May.

When sober I was afraid but after a few drinks was on BDSM sites on the internet and getting turned on thinking that what I saw there might become real for me.

But before that there was the neighbourhood Halloween party.

The invitation was handed in by Maureen, my neighbour and boss and the wife of my husband Richards's boss.

It contained instructions as to dress code. Only pyjamas, bare feet. The male partner to wear the trousers and the lady the jacket. If the jacket was too large to be shortened so that it hung down only a quarter inch below her pubs.Only one button to be fastened. It advised that the postmistress ,a lady in her mid fifties but still could attract male eyes, was a skilled seamstress and would discretely do the alteration.

Since Richard is taller than me I nervously went to the post office, bought some stamps from the postmistress and then whispered "I am told you do alterations for parties."

She passed me a piece of paper with her address and said come at 7 pm. This I did. I was not alone and some other ladies were having alterations, most notably the vicar's wife.

The party was to be held at a country mansion and our neighbours and work colleagues appropriately dressed drove us there. The car park was gravel and we had to walk over it some thirty yards to reach the house. I once did a firewalk for charity and it was easier than hobbling on the painful gravel to the door.

The hostess , known to Maureen, was a stunning forty something not hiding much in her short pyjama jacket. I recognised her as a lawyer I had seen on tv discussing the outcome of a trial and married to a successful business man.

We were ushered to a large room where there must have been around twenty couples and all the ladies almost nude as I was in my shortened pyjama jacket. It was no surprise to see present the postmistress and her husband nor the vicar's wife but she was with a young man. I later learned he was her son and her husband and she were separated.

After an hour or so drinking and eating from a wonderful buffet we were taken to what was an indoor riding arena. The walk was about 100 yards and remembering this was Halloween. the end of October, and the night cold and our feet bare and virtually naked I was starting to shiver by the time we reached our destination.

In the middle of the arena was a table with boxes underneath and packs of cards and a timer on top. Bales of hay to be used as seats were around the perimeter.

The hostess produced a stack of cards and we each took one. Some had a blue dot, the others red.

The blues were then formed in a semi-circle and a number, 1,2, 3 and so on marked on there heads. I was blue, my husband Richard red.

The reds then picked from another stack of cards which gave them a number and they had to stand facing a blue with the same number. Because of the random nature of this you could have a boy girl pair or boy boy or girl girl.

I was paired with a man I had noted about town. He was good looking and now seeing him stripped to the waist very muscular. I noted my husband with one of the male mechanics and the vicar's wife with her son.

The hostess then declared that the "games"begin and that we would start with three minutes snogging. She set a timer on the table and returned to her partner who happened to be the postmistress.

Much as I enjoyed my gorgeous strangers tongue in my mouth I was captivated by the site of my husband kissing another man. When the game was announced I was sure he would run a mile but here he was being a good sport or perhaps enjoying a latent bisexual desire. Seeing the vicar's wife with her son's tongue in her mouth I felt should have shocked but it was as great a turn on as watching my husbands first gay experience. At least I think it was his first.

After the snogging the reds were told to move a pace to their right. This meant I was now paired with my boss Maureen. Next game was nipple sucking, Two minutes for each partner. Maureen did a good job and soaking wet and after two minutes I did my best to please her.

Our lawyer hostess then asked everyone as to what the next game should be. Anal and cock sucking proved popular choices. She decided cock sucking won the day but the game would change.

She had the names of all the men and women present in two bowls and drew a male name from one at the same time as a female one from the other.

Thus we were now aligned boy girl.

Now ladies, she said, I want you to suck as if your life depended on it. Your backs certainly will. The woman who takes the longest to make her man come will be whipped the number of strokes four times the minutes she spends sucking.

The librarian had the young vicar's son and easily made him come I was not so lucky. I had my husband who could hold out for a long time. It took me ten minutes to get him off and was the loser so became due to ten times four strokes.I suspect, although he denies it, he made an extra effort to have me the loser.

A chain was lowered from the ceiling and I was to be tied to it and then stretched so I was only on tip toe but first our lawyer hostess announced we should cool off with a swim.

A swim! Where? It was to be the outdoor pool! It was Halloween, the end of October at night and frost was already forming on the ground and the pool was outdoors.

Maureen explained that our hostess and husband had at one time spent time in Russia and had joined the locals in ice swimming( clips of this can be found on internet) and now enjoyed swimming in their own unheated pool. Convinced of health benefits were now trying to get everyone else involved.

My husband, perhaps influenced by drink, joined first lot of brave souls to get in. When I hesitated Maureen whispered to some others and I was grabbed and thrown in. The shock was horrible but the others in the pool gathered round and calmed me down and got my breathing under control. Then, to my surprise, I managed a 5 minute swim and felt invigorated. My pyjama top was of course soaked and had to be removed to dry off. Being nude in front of so many would normally been embarrassing but so many others ,men and women, were naked I think I would have felt more out of place dressed.

Some other less adventurous souls had stayed out the water but were still unconcerned by the cold night air and joints were being passed about.

When our hostess had finished her amazingly long ten minute cold swim we retuned indoors where I was to be hung.

It was decided I should be flogged by a women A name to be drawn. It was the postmistress. The boxes under the table contained a variety of whips and floggers. She chose a single tailed one and laid into me leaving me crying and my back very red and a bit black and blue the next day. On Sunday morning I met the postmistress walking her dog. Not knowing quite what to say I congratulated her on a good job done. She said that she hoped one day I would get my chance to whip her.

The next Monday at work I said to Maureen , the boss, that I must have witnessed and taken part in every imaginable perversion possible.

" No you have not." Just wait until I introduce you to the seven up club"

My husband denied ever having heard of this at the golf club but before being invited to join this secret association there were other goings on at work.