Chapter 2

She nods. “That’s the spirit. Studies have shown that taking short breaks for mindfulness or relaxation can improve productivity and focus. That’s been my experience. Of course, we want everyone to feel comfortable here, so we’ll need to schedule additional appointments.”

I wonder if Dr. Khanna knows that I’m bullshitting. I’m not a prude, but whatever these women are doing lacks basic decorum. Plain and simple. She’ll never change my mind but if that’s the game, then that’s the game. If someone wants to vibe in their free time, that’s something I’ll have to learn to ignore.

What lingered most from that session was being labeled ‘conservative.’ Not politically conservative, but my identity in general. It’s a stinging feeling given my age. Conservative. Is that how she sees me? A relic clinging to outdated ideas of professionalism? I feel like I’ve been maligned for having common decency.

That was yesterday. Today I have a meeting in a conference room with the rest of the team. We’re finalizing social media strategy to create additional buzz for the new activewear products. This includes paid partnerships with online influencers.

It’s the third floor, open space, then down the hallway. Each conference room has glass walls with frost in the center. I can see the shape of two women behind the glass and I enter the room.

My jaw nearly hits the floor.

Lexi is using her laptop wearing a tiny undershirt — no bra underneath — while Olivia is standing behind her looking at the screen, wearing a black bra and jean pants. They’re both young and vibrant ladies, I love working with them, and they flash hesitant smiles in my direction.

“Oh hey,” Lexi says. “We weren’t sure how comfortable you are with this style yet.”

Olivia chimes in. “Do you mind?”

A false smile creeps over my face. What exactly were they told about me? They stare at me like being fully dressed in normal office wear is an obstacle to the hard work they’re doing. Like I’m the deviant one here. With that in mind, I’m still the newest member of the team, these are their rules, and the last thing I want to do is create drama.

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” I say. “Comfort matters, right?”

“Bras and panties were never meant for me.”

Their comments are playful but they undress like it’s nothing. Locker room style undressing. One button at a time, zero nerves, and their eyes are still focused on the laptop screen as they reveal nipples and body parts. One girl is barefoot, while the other is still wearing heels.

As you can imagine, I’m floored being a few feet away from nude colleagues. I’d never heard of such things happening, much less this brazen. Vivian’s masturbation was tame compared to the brutal awkwardness I’m facing. It’s like looking at the sun. I can only take glances at a time.

I open my laptop and pretend to be unphased by their state of undress. Is this how the rest of the meeting is going to happen? There are other women on the team coming as well. I wonder if Olivia and Lexi plan to get dressed, or worse, if the other members will do something similar to get comfortable.

“Can you take a look at this real quick?” Lexi says. “These are the new graphics I made.”

I gulp deeply, because now I’m forced to interact with them in the name of professionalism. The surreal sight of their nudity in a conference room is spellbinding. Their nipples are erect from exposure, Olivia is pink while Lexi is light brown. I clear my throat and walk over to them.

They show me what they’ve been working on, graphic designs which will be used for online marketing. It’s phenomenal work. They’re both so talented and deserve to be working for a place like this. From where I’m standing, I can see the color of their nipples on either side of my vision. My heart races. I wonder if they can feel my breathing against their bare skin.

“Looks great. You two are really talented.”

“Thanks,” Lexi says. “We’ve been collaborating for a long time.”

You can imagine the tension I feel each time another woman steps through that door. Is someone going to freak out? Nope. No one bats an eye from Olivia and Lexi’s bare tits. Just an exchange of ‘hello’ and putting their stuff down. At this point, it must be a generational thing. I’m the oldest of the bunch. The ‘conservative.’ The prude.

Everyone takes their seats. No one else gets nude, but everyone gets comfortable. Upon closer inspection, I notice a few of the women are braless beneath their tops. Vivian, our boss, arrives last and she takes off her heels and walks around in black stockings as she leads the meeting.

It’s like being in the Twilight Zone and my gaze sometimes drifts toward those nipples, while no one else is phased by them. That’s how casual they are with each other. And then there’s the masturbation issue. Are they all doing the same thing in private?

Later that afternoon, I text with Vivian to discuss the state of things. If I’m going to be working here for the foreseeable future, then I need to know the landscape. No more secrets or surprises. It’s not a confrontation, it’s about being smart.

Vivian: Sure come to my office at 2 pm. Might be busy, just come in

At that exact time I head to her office. Now I’m ready for anything thrown my way. I’ve already seen it all. Plus this is my chance to perhaps set a few boundaries.

I can see her heels on the bottom of the glass wall. She’s standing and moving in place, which I can see through the frosted center. It looks like she’s dancing or stretching.

Opening the glass door, Vivian is standing beside her desk, while another woman is bent over, laying front side down. Vivian is dressed in her usual silk blouse and skirt and stockings. The other woman is wearing traditional office wear, but her bottom is down, feet flailing in the air.

It takes me a split second to realize that Vivian is using a strap-on against this woman’s bottom. And in another second I realize that I know this woman, someone from the HR department, someone a bit older than myself. This is pure domination. A young boss penetrating an older woman across a desk. It’s a show of force. Vivian knew I’d see this.

The older woman starts to cum when the thrusts go faster. Her cry is muffled. They know I’m here, they heard the door open and my footsteps at the entrance. Perhaps this is something Vivian does to people, have them come to her office, make them watch. It’s a powerplay on both ends — the woman being fucked, the other woman made to watch.

Vivian pulls the black strap-on out, slow, merciful, and the woman’s feet go back to the floor. By my estimation, it’s a solid six-incher, slick with vaginal fluids. I’m unable to peel my eyes away. I can’t walk away if I tried. My legs are weak. My feet are frozen to the ground, just as she had intended, I’m guessing.

The woman on the table climbs off and right away she pulls her panties up and fixes her bottom. She’s blushing, her face beet red, and she can’t bring herself to look at me. It’s the expression of utter defeat, but she wouldn’t change a thing. She’s under the spell of a powerful young woman. She thanks Vivian for the ‘weekly appointment’ and then scurries away when I step aside.

Vivian undoes the strap around her crotch, giving me a glimpse of her patch of pubic hairs, and then she pulls her skirt down. She places the sex toy on a paper towel on the table, letting the toy stand upright. It shines under the sunlight from the window. A woman’s cum. She uses a wet wipe to clean her fingers. She’s looking at me, business as usual, like time is important.

“Was there something you wanted?” she asks.

She sits on her desk and twirls the heel on her foot in slight movements. Her legs are closed, but she’s pantyless. This isn’t exactly a sexual invitation, she’s using the same tone she always uses when talking to me. But how could I ignore what I’d just seen?

The first thing Monday morning I’m in Dr. Khanna’s office for an emergency meeting. I’d been emailing with her over the weekend about my employment status and if I’m capable of proceeding. The work is great, I love my job and colleagues, but it’s the other factors that make me uneasy.

I explain this to her in person with greater detail. She sits there and nods, listening to every word, analyzing my body language, and I get the impression that she’s heard these feelings before. Dr. Khanna is wearing a smaller skirt today with pantyhose and I wonder if that’s intentional at all.

“Your feelings are valid,” she says. “Not everyone is suited for this lifestyle. But between us, did Vivian give you any tasks to perform? That’s always been her management style for as long as I’ve known her, to give tasks.”

“I was given tasks. Yes.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“It made me feel small, smaller than I’ve ever felt in my life. Belittled. I can’t get over the fact that I’m almost twice her age, and here we are, she’s giving me orders about how to dress.”

“Did that arouse you? Does it arouse you now?”

“But you were aroused at some point, correct?”

“Yes, sure. It’s a human response, I’d like to think.”

Dr. Khanna gives a slow nod. “We’ve known each other long enough. Show me.”

Her eyes gesture to my outfit, as if she knows what secret I’m hiding beneath. I can’t believe this. My mind scrambles. Is this some secret plot between them to test my loyalty? Or is this purely about sexual control? I glance down at my clothes, so unassuming, but we both know what’s underneath.

With a deep breath I play along. I undo my pants and slide them down, there’s nothing under, which is what Vivian had instructed. It seems they’re working together to get me naked in the office, one step at a time, and it’s working. They’re breaking me down. I could have refused Vivian’s request but it’s hard to refuse my boss.

My pants are around my ankles and Dr. Khanna is pleased. Her eyes are fixated on my crotch, which is clean shaven, and she licks her lips. My bare butt is pressed on the seat and I feel guilty for the next person who has to sit here.

“Vivian wanted me to come to work like this,” I say. “No undergarments down below.”

“She wanted me to masturbate at work. But I don’t think that’s appropriate in your office space.”

“I invented this method, remember?”

Her gaze is piercing. She expects me to do it. This can’t be right. Everything about the situation screams ‘wrong’ — the secrecy, the vague instructions, the way her eyes gleam with blatant arousal. I’ve always known Dr. Khanna to be a brilliant woman and her resume speaks volumes, but this is a different side to her, one that’s craving the forbidden.