Bad Day at the Office Part 2

by Greg Ossog

Narrated by: Barbara Strickland

If I hadn't already known Kathy for over two years, and known 
she was a decent, intelligent, good-hearted person, my first 
impression of her that morning would have been "exhibitionist 
freak." Why else would she have gotten into this situation?

I encountered her standing in the hallway, talking with Tom 
Talmadge; Tom facing my direction, and Kathy facing him. She was 
wearing only a white blouse, and was naked below the waist, bare 
legs and bare bottom. Tom seemed not to be aware of this -- yet 
-- because she was holding her briefcase in front of her lap. 
How did she expect to get away with this?

But as I got closer, I could tell, just from the way she stood 
there almost shivering, that she was terrified. Something had 
happened to throw her into this situation; she didn't want to be 
there. If she could just make it to her office and shut the 
door, she could pull herself together. The best way for me to 
help was to coax Tom away.

Fortunately I was wearing a snug sweater, and Tom loved a good 
set of boobs more than his own mother. I took his arm, 
"accidentally" grasping it against the side of one breast, and 
took him away, making up some issue that needed to be briefly 
discussed. I glanced back and said silently "Go" to Kathy. She 
nodded back, so I figured she'd be OK.

After I spoke with Tom (about 5 minutes) I went to Kathy's 
office. She unlocked her door and let me in. Now she was nude, 
having taken off the blouse, and almost in shock. I marveled at 
the story as she recounted what had happened to her. How could 
one woman have such a run of bad luck?

Her upcoming presentation was critical, so we had to fix her up. 
We repaired her blouse with those metal paper fasteners (so 
there is still a use for them!), and I lent her my bra and 
skirt. Hopefully a complete enough outfit. I would wait in her 
office, wearing my panties and sweater, until she came back. She 
went without panties because mine were the only pair left, and I 
didn't want to sit around bare-bottomed; she understood. 
Afterward, I would go to Macy's and get her a new outfit.

I really thought her troubles were over at that point. But when 
she returned, I was shocked to find her topless! She handed back 
a suit jacket she borrowed from an executive, and all she wore 
was my skirt. Her blouse and my bra were gone.

The story behind that was even more sensational. Tom had 
molested her in the corridor and was about to fuck her on a 
conference table when he was caught and fired. Good riddance. 
But I was more worried about Kathy's state of mind at this 
point.

She was not in any shape to do work or go anywhere. For a while 
I just hugged her, helping her calm down and get her composure 
back.

Now I needed to go shopping. We were very low on clothes between 
us -- just my miniskirt, panties, and sweater. I'd really need 
all three to go in public, and wished she hadn't lost my bra. 
While I was out, Kathy would have nothing to wear at all. She 
returned my skirt and was once again naked.

I gave her a quick kiss; she wished me good luck and hid in a 
corner as I left, only coming out to lock her door after I 
closed it. Unfortunately, without my bra my nipples left obvious 
bumps as the sweater clung to my breasts. I would need to get 
myself a bra too. The Macy's store was a bus ride across town.

The bus was crowded, with plenty of men in suit and tie. None 
were gallant enough to offer me a seat, so I had to stand, 
grasping the overhead rail for support. No gentlemen these days, 
I guess. I knew they were sneaking peeks at my legs, and at my 
breasts outlined by the clingy sweater. Even worse, one man 
shuffling past me planted one palm on my bottom, giving a slight 
squeeze before letting go. The nerve! But I reached my stop with 
no further problems.

At Macy's I went first to the lingerie department, to get the 
underthings Kathy and I would need. A pretty Asian woman named 
Emily Tohno came to my assistance. She wore a silk robe styled 
like a kimono, but with a nontraditional cut; short sleeves, a 
narrow belt tied at the front, and hemmed at mid-thigh. It was 
elegant, but at the same time really suggestive without showing 
much of her beside some leg. She was prim, bright-eyed, and 
refined.

It occurred to me that I hadn't asked what size Kathy was, but I 
figured my friend was just a little smaller than me in both 
places. I asked Emily first for a Dior Nightshade, size 36C 
(me), and she said there were plenty in stock. After sending an 
associate to get one, she motioned me into a private dressing 
room . "I already know my size, thanks," I said. "I have a few 
other things to shop for, too."

But Emily was insistent. "We really want to make sure every 
woman has the best fit when she comes to our department. It'll 
just take a minute." It was the first of several times that I 
would surprise myself by agreeing with her and going along. We 
stepped into the dressing room.

"Let's take this off, Barbara," she said, gently taking the 
bottom of my sweater in each hand. This sounded reasonable -- I 
would have to take it off to try on the bra -- and I raised my 
arms, helping her guide it over my head and off. She glanced at 
my bared breasts and smiled. "You normally go without a bra?"

"I do wear a bra," I protested. "Today it was... it was damaged. 
That's why I need a new one."

"You have nice breasts," she said, touching one gently. Her 
fingers were a little cool.

Surprised, I brushed her hand away and stepped back. "Please 
don't do that again." I folded my arms defensively.

Emily grinned. "I'm sorry. I meant that you have such nice form 
you don't really need a bra for day-to-day activities."

"No, no," I said wryly. "I mean, yes, I do. My line of work, 
wearing proper clothes is mandatory." Where was that other 
attendant with the bra? What was taking her so long?

Emily walked around me, looking me up and down, almost like a 
guy would at a strip club. It felt strange; she seemed like the 
paragon of professional service outside, but in here she was 
revealing some eccentric traits. "Forgive me for being forward," 
she said, "but you could work somewhere where you don't have to 
wear a bra." (Odd recommendation from a woman who sold bras.) "I 
have two associates who are braless at work. And then under this 
kimono I'm not wearing anything at all."

"Oh, are you," I asked, bemused.

"I am not," she said. She was in front of me again. "The reason 
why is because we have some very high-end merchandise here, up 
to two and three hundred dollars. Many of our customers are rich 
men, buying lingerie for their wives, or girlfriends or 
secretaries. Naturally, they want to see how the item looks when 
worn by a woman."

I must have smirked or raised an eyebrow, because she gave me a 
sort of earnest, apologetic look, but kept going.

"So even though I am often not the same size as the woman, I 
offer to model the same item in my size in a dressing room. Not 
very many men turn this down."

I bet they don't, I thought. With Emily's smile, her bright 
almond-shaped eyes, glossy black hair and petite figure, what 
guy would turn down the chance to see her wearing next to 
nothing? With more people like her, men would certainly get over 
their phobia of heading to the mall.

Emily said, "I tell you one example while we are waiting for 
your bra. Is that OK?"

"That's fine," I said. Somehow she or a co-worker had taken my 
sweater out of sight. It's not like I was going to march out of 
here topless.

"This man," Emily said, "was about 40 years old and getting a 
little gray hair. But he was in good shape and well-dressed. He 
wanted to buy a sheer camisole and matching panty set. This was 
very high quality, about $175. I went to a private room and 
changed into the outfit, while he waited outside. Then I peeked 
out and asked him to come in.

"I could tell right away he loved how it looked on me, and that 
he would probably buy it. He said I was beautiful, and he was 
staring at my body. He could basically see everything through 
the sheer material. I asked him a question: when his girlfriend 
put it on, which part would he take off first. He said he would 
probably take off the top. Although it seemed like he was 
thinking more about me than her." (She laughed after saying 
this.)

"I told him to feel the fabric on the camisole, to make sure it 
was satisfactory. He hesitated to do this, so I took his hand 
and placed it on my shoulder, saying it was OK. He got over his 
inhibitions and checked the feel and fit in all areas: my back, 
tummy, shoulders and breasts. I don't think he was paying much 
attention to the material when he touched my breasts. He spent a 
lot of time fondling them through the thin material. When he had 
questions I would answer, but otherwise I stood still like a 
mannequin. This was difficult, because I was starting to breathe 
heavy and my nipples were very hard.

"Then I stepped back and took off the camisole. He was staring 
at my bare breasts, but we needed him to examine the bikini 
brief. His face was a little red and there was sweat on his 
forehead. Following my instructions, he felt all the way around 
the outside, checking how the fabric fit my hips and bottom, and 
between my legs. He used both hands, and slowly explored every 
inch of the panties.

"Then, I had him put two fingers inside the waistband and gently 
pull, to check that it was snug. He checked it all the way 
around. I felt his fingertips on my bottom, and along the top of 
my pubic hair. Being nearly naked in front of this man was 
making me very excited and moist. I would need to get him a 
clean set of lingerie and later I would wash this one.

"Even though he was supposed to be examining the panties, I 
think my breasts hanging in front of him were too tempting. He 
suddenly started kissing and licking them. This felt really good 
and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. He had forgotten 
about his girlfriend and even about the lingerie and was now 
thinking only about me. While he was teasing my nipples he had 
both hands on my bottom, and then he pulled my panties halfway 
down my thighs. Then he kneeled down and pulled them down beyond 
my knees.

"I guided him up to a standing position and looked into his 
eyes. He pulled me in an embrace, kissing me while his hands 
were all over my bare back and bottom. I could feel his erection 
through his trousers, brushing against my bare pussy. I ground 
up against him, like a really slow, sexy dance. I was kissing 
him and licking him all over his face.

"On the other side of the dressing room is a small room set up 
like a bedroom, like in the furniture section. I took off the 
panties, then took him into the room and laid down on the bed, 
arms and legs spread, offering myself. He took off his clothes 
and we made love three times.

"He bought two other expensive lingerie sets right off the 
rack," Emily said, ending the story. She had a way of keeping my 
attention. It was a silly story, but the way she told it made it 
sound as if I was right there. I found myself very aroused by 
it, and was surprised and a little sheepish to find out I had 
been absently massaging one breast as I had kept my hands 
crossed over them. Both nipples were hard. Emily probably 
noticed this.

A young European blond man stepped into the room, carrying the 
bra.

"Hey!" I shrieked, turning from him. "What's he doing in here?"

Emily gave me a reassuring touch on the shoulder. "Hans only 
works here, just like me. You know when the doctor has you take 
off your clothes, and he pokes and prods you, does that mean he 
has interest in you romantically? Neither does Hans, he is just 
doing his job."

I was lulled enough by the weirdness of the situation that I was 
satisfied by this explanation. I spread my arms, exposing my 
breasts, as I let Hans and Emily put on the bra and check its 
fit. Both Emily and Hans took turns cupping my breasts, I guess 
to make sure the bra supported them well. They seemed 
professional about it, though. "It's a good fit," Emily said. 
"It looks very nice on you."

"Thank you," I said. "Now I'd like to pay for this and go." But 
Hans had undone the clasp and was taking the bra back off!

"We have to ring it up and put it in a bag," Emily explained. 
"I'm sorry, but customers cannot wear the merchandise right out 
of the store."

"I'll go find her sweater," Hans said, and stepped out. I was 
topless again, and having to wait.

"While we wait," Emily said, "let's take a look at your 
panties." I could think of a dozen better ideas, but still I 
stood there while she unhooked my skirt. Now I stood there in 
only a pair of sheer bikini briefs, much like Emily did toward 
the end of her story.

"This is a very nice look on you," Emily said. "I see you trim 
your pubic hair. I do too."

"That really isn't any business of yours," I said, but Emily was 
not to be deterred. She took off her kimono, folding it on a 
shelf. She really was wearing nothing underneath. "I had a 
waxing done this spring," she said, pointing to the small 
"landing strip" of pubic hair. "It hurts when they do it, but 
now I can wear the really skimpy bikinis." Her breasts were 
small, but well-proportioned for her frame, with the small 
areolae and pert nipples typical of Asian women.

"I know!" she said. "While we are waiting for Hans, we can try 
out some different panties on you. Let's take these off."

And still I stood there compliant while Emily took off the last 
piece of clothing I had. "I'll go out and look for something 
nice," Emily said, and she stepped out of the dressing room. I 
could hardly believe this. Would she really walk the aisles of 
her department naked, looking for lingerie? I certainly didn't 
feel that brave. With nowhere to go, I stood there and waited.

It must have been a few minutes before Emily and Hans walked in 
together. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I think someone moved 
your sweater and skirt. We are looking for them. We're really 
sorry."

I was speechless. Now Hans had seen me naked too. At that moment 
I looked around for my panties, but now I had lost track of them 
too. How could I let them take all my clothes?

"Isn't she beautiful?" Emily said to Hans. "I think she should 
come work here."

"She's gorgeous," he agreed. "And she adds some variety. Many 
men will have women that look more like her than you."

"Of course," she said. "Blonde hair, bigger breasts, and she's 
taller too."

Then Emily really seemed to change the subject. "Hey Barbara, 
while you are waiting, do you want to have sex with Hans? He's 
very good. If you work here you will anyway." She laughed. "I 
think Hans could find a higher-paying job somewhere else, but 
since he can have sex with me all the time here I think he 
doesn't want to leave. If you come work here, you could give me 
a break."

"Maybe I could make love to both of you at once," Hans 
suggested.

"Yeah!" said Emily.

Finally the reality of what was happening woke me. "I really 
have to go," I said, but as I looked around, there were no 
clothes, so I couldn't leave. Shit.

Well, there was something: Emily's little kimono. I grabbed it 
and put it on. Over her protests, I said that this was a farce, 
I was leaving, I would never come back, and their management 
would hear from me. Her spell was broken. I stormed out of the 
room still adjusting the sash to the robe, trying to cover 
myself the best I could.

Outside, the chill air reminded me how poorly the robe fit me, 
however perfect it was for Emily. The top wouldn't close 
properly, revealing a lot of cleavage. And below, it was too 
short for decency. It barely covered my ass and pussy. If a gust 
of wind blew, or I reached up, or I bent over, or any of a 
hundred other things happened, I would be in trouble. My strange 
outfit was earning me a mixture of disapproving, curious and 
prurient looks.

It was dusk already; on a bank display the time read 6:30! How 
could that have happened? How did the day go by so fast? At this 
point I was starting to wish I hadn't helped Kathy out, and I 
felt selfish for thinking so; but here I was on a city street, 
barely dressed, with all my original clothes gone. None of this 
would have happened if not for her.

Unfortunately, the bus was just as crowded as before, and nearly 
all businessmen this time. No one gave up their seat, so I tried 
to keep my footing as the bus lurched back and forth. Each time 
I collided with another passenger, the belt would loosen 
slightly and the robe gradually start to come open. After one 
abrupt stop where the robe gaped open and my breasts spilled 
out, I cursed and tried to tighten things back up.

A man suggested that I hold on to one of the available straps to 
keep my balance. I declined because of how skimpily I was 
covered; I needed to keep the robe together. He must have taken 
this as excessive politeness or deference, because he took each 
arm and gently raised them toward a strap, helping me grip it. I 
faced the side windows. I could feel the robe lift up, knowing 
that I was definitely naked below the waist now. But no fight 
was left in me.

Maybe it was the same man who first starting feeling my bare 
bottom; his "helpful" advice had ulterior motives. I closed my 
eyes; I just wanted to get back to the office and figure out how 
to get myself and Kathy home. Since she had no clothes either, 
this too-small kimono was all we had. I tried not to think about 
how we could possibly get home. Just get back to the office 
first.

More hands were feeling my calves and thighs. I had no will to 
resist. Instead, I let the pleasant sensation of being touched 
in erogenous areas warm me. Some people were tentatively raising 
the hem of the robe higher, feeling my waist and ribcage. 
Against my better instincts, in spite of the oddity of the 
situation, I was getting aroused.

When the first man bold enough to do so stuck his finger inside 
me, I was already wet. I sighed when the belt was untied and the 
robe fell open. And I moaned when another stranger started 
licking my breasts. A man gently peeled the fingers of my right 
hand off the strap, and guided my arm down. I wasn't sure why 
there were doing this until they slid the robe off that 
shoulder, baring it and me. I took hold of the strap again with 
both hands. I stood there nude while the robe hung off my left 
shoulder uselessly. It was only a few minutes before they 
repeated the steps with my left arm and the kimono was gone. I 
never saw it again.

Now their work began in earnest. Even though my eyes were 
closed, somebody fashioned a blindfold out of a silky dark 
material and put it on me. They turned me around to face the 
aisle and most of the people. I felt kisses on my lips, neck and 
breasts; I felt hands everywhere; and when I felt a large, erect 
penis force its way inside me, I came, and came several more 
times as he continued thrusting.

More men took liberties with me as the bus surged, swayed and 
lurched. Finally a man untied the the blindfold and I blinked in 
the harsh light, as if waking up.

"This is your stop," a man said. "Here's your purse." He was 
right: we were there right in front of the darkened office 
building. With no further fondling or touching at all, the group 
of men parted so I could step off.

There were scattered people on the streets -- hopefully no one I 
knew -- but most people in this financial area had already gone 
home.

I had to get past the security guard, which is hard to do when 
you're naked. But finally he stepped into the other room and I 
ran past, to the elevators. I guess that's why they call that 
streaking. I made it back to Kathy's office unseen; and she was 
shocked to see that her bad luck had apparently rubbed off. Now 
we were both there, after hours, without a stitch of clothing 
between us.

How did we get home? Kathy called her friend Elaine, who had a 
key to her apartment and brought a set of clothes for both of 
us. Elaine was non-judgemental and promised not to tell anyone. 
I didn't know her so I had to rely on Kathy being sure of this.

We didn't have any more bad luck that night. That would have 
been really bad and unfair for Elaine, who had two kids and was 
trying her best to get her 42-year-old body back in shape. Being 
exposed without any flattering clothes would have been really 
embarrassing. But she was fine. Every once in a while, I'd ask 
Kathy how she was doing, and Elaine never had a problem.

But we had problems as the days and weeks passed. Many. And it 
would be months before we figured out why we did and Elaine did 
not.

  
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