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JoAnne’s Christmas Curse: Part 1
JoAnne’s Christmas Curse: Part 1
The Merry Misadventures of the Christmas Cursed.
Based on a post by Todd 1 72,
in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The Curse.
JoAnne forced her way brusquely through the dense crowd
toward the Thai place on the corner. Lord, she hated holiday shopping; screaming
brats, the jarring sounds of ringing bells, the constant fucking "gimme,
gimme, gimme" of the damn "charity" workers. As if they weren't
really there to guilt you into forking over the goddamn money. And all these
fucking people just kept on bumping against her, wrinkling her $2000 black
skirt and jacket power suit. Didn't they have somewhere to be, didn't people
work anymore?
Just as she broke free of the crowd, she half-ran-into and
half-plowed-over a diminutive blonde girl in some kind of Christmas outfit,
sending packages skittering across the frozen ground and knocking the
mini-skirted kid on her ass. Great, what the fuck was a kid doing out in the
middle of the day anyway; JoAnne stopped. From the size of her boobs, this was
no kid; a midget?
Crap, they used something else now, like small person or
some shit.
The blonde glared at her through her skewed hair while she
straightened her tilted elf hat for a second, then caught herself and smiled,
although, honestly, it looked a little more like she was gritting her teeth.
"Merry Christmas, huh?"
JoAnne rolled her eyes and started to walk on.
"Hey! Aren't you going to help me get all this shit
picked up?"
JoAnne looked over her shoulder at the flustered little
blonde. "Fuck off, I'm busy" and pushed her way into the Restaurant.
Finding her way to her usual seat, as she brushed her short, platinum blonde
hair back, she sat and pointed at the waitress who immediately ran to the
kitchen to get her order started and get her a damn drink. JoAnne pulled out
her blackberry and started to pull up her emails; about 10 seconds later her
system froze. Shit.
The chair across from her pulled out.
Without looking up, JoAnne growled. "I don't need any
company, and I need space to work. Fuck off." Even with her cold demeanor,
her pale skin, white blonde hair and blue eyes drew more attention than she'd
ever wanted.
Nothing happened. When she looked up, the tiny honey blonde
from outside was leaning back in the chair, staring at her with her arms
crossed under her outsized boobs. She looked a like a distinctly adult-oriented
version of an elf; long blonde hair, pointy ears, a micro-miniskirt and a huge
rack that barely stayed in her costume. Despite the rosy cheeks and turned up
nose, though, the twinkle in her eyes looked extremely icy.
JoAnne sighed. Oh well, if the little bitch wanted to be a
problem, she'd have her thrown out. She started to look around for a waiter,
then realized nobody was moving. Nobody at all. Inside or in the vast crowd
outside. No sound. Everything was frozen. She looked back at the girl, who
slowly arched her left eyebrow in an overly dramatic fashion.
"Look Sister, I'd tell you not to do anything stupid,
but that would be wasted effort. You can't do anything, you're stuck in that
chair until I say otherwise. Elf. Christmas. Magic. Bitch."
JoAnne started to protest, but her mouth simply froze as the
Elf raised her hand.
"Don't bother. This isn't a dream. You didn't fall and
hit your head. You haven't even had a drink today yet. And it sure as fuck-all
wasn't that nasty bran concoction you had for breakfast. On your salary you eat
sawdust for breakfast? Fuck, eat a good breakfast and spend five more minutes
on the damn elliptical."
She waved her hand and JoAnne found she could speak again.
"Look if you want an apology;”
The Elf cut her off again "It wouldn't be sincere and
you wouldn't learn a god damn thing. Don't bullshit me, Baby, I'm a whole lot
older than I look. Besides, I have your file."
She leaned back, reached two fingers into her ample cleavage
and pulled out an ornate, gilt edged scroll, untied it and began to read over
it: "Let's see; JoAnne Steadmann, age 32. No personal relationships. Wow,
that sucks. You seem to have a severe case of Greed, brought on by a
Self-Centered Nature and a Lack of Human Empathy, which seems to have developed
around puberty;” Her voice trailed off as she read more.
Then: "Damn!? You're Frigid? No Orgasms? No wonder
you're a grade-A Bitch! Hell, I wouldn't wish that on anyone! Got your cherry
popped in High School, but didn't enjoy it at all. And you didn't even
experiment at Wellesley? Damn that's like the lickety-slit capitol of the
world. You missed out on a whole lot of the sweet stuff there, Baby."
JoAnne just glared at her. Whatever the hell this was about,
the little blonde bitch had no right digging into her personal life.
"On the bright side you're not entirely freaked out by
this, and that's rarer than you think. Too many people have lost belief in
Christmas magic; they can lose it completely when shit like this happens.
You're pretty enough in platinum-blonde-career bitch sort of way. And,
according to Records Division, you never developed any real sex aversions, so
that's good;”
Shaking her head, the Elf hastily re-rolled the scroll,
tucked it back between her oversized boobs, then leaned forward looking
intently into JoAnne's eyes. "I can fix this; but I have to follow the
rules. I'm not allowed to just go around helping humanity; free will and all
that shit. But I can inflict a Christmas lesson on you because you denied the
True Meaning of Christmas. You were rude. To an Elf. Within the Fortnight of
Christmas."
JoAnne leaned back in shock. "Is this going to be one
of those ghosts things? I;”
The Elf shook her head "Ghosts wouldn't help you at
all." She paused. "God, I love that one, it's a classic but it won't
work here. I am giving you the gift of Lust. I am removing most of your
inhibitions; the sexual ones anyway and 'cursing' you so that at least once a
day until Midnight on Christmas Eve, you're going to find yourself in a
situation that ends up in sex of some kind or other. Nothing dangerous, nothing
that will destroy your life. You may end up feeling a little used and a bit
humiliated, but you'll like it. Besides, a little humility would do you a lot
of good, Sunshine."
JoAnne felt her anger flare "Nobody uses;” And
just as quickly found herself muted as the Elf stood up.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road, I've got
some fucking Joy to spread by the end of the day. Gimme the panties, you won't
be needing them."
JoAnne tried to resist, but found herself standing, reaching
under her skirt and pulling off her black silk underwear and handing them over.
She watched in disgust as the little Elf held them up to her
nose and breathed in deeply. The Elf shook her head sadly and looked at JoAnne.
"Nothing. Just Fabric softener and soap. You really are Frigid. I'm fixing
that right now."
She stepped over to JoAnne and reached up under her skirt. JoAnne
felt the Elf's very warm hand cup her crotch.
The Elf looked her in the eye "Damn. Closed up tighter
than a bank vault." She rubbed her palm back and forth for a second.
"Ah, there it is!" JoAnne's knees nearly gave out and she almost fell
to the ground as she felt something hot surge through her whole body, but the
Elf steadied her and guided her back into her seat.
As Joanne watched, the Elf licked her fingertips delicately.
"Much better."
"That was your First Orgasm. It's been sort of stuck in
the gate for a damn long time. It was a little weak from the time attenuation,
so the next time it will feel better."
JoAnne stiffened. "Buh, better?"
"More powerful, longer."
JoAnne couldn't even imagine that. The Elf continued on
without really noticing JoAnne's reaction.
"Here's the deal, you get a little something every day,
each day gets a little more extreme and a little more intense. I've used this
one a lot; it was practically standard in Vicki's day; Queen Victoria. It will
be a real experience, but you can handle it. Still, if it gets to be too much,
call my name three times; its 'Holly Mistletoe" and I'll pop in to help. If
you really need it."
Suddenly, with a sound like a balloon popping in reverse,
Holly was gone and everything was in motion. The waitress rushed up with her
drink; which she drank in one gulp, and her food arrived almost immediately.
She managed to catch her breath and tried to act normal, although she just
didn't have it in her to bitch at the waitress for being too slow like she
usually did. She even caught herself leaving a much larger tip than usual. She
must be shaken up.
The Tattoo.
JoAnne slipped into her desk; the walk back had been weird.
She'd been so damn conscious of not wearing any underwear, and she normally
never thought about; that. And she felt almost feverishly warm, with everybody
bumping into her. She kept wondering if they somehow knew she was
panty-less. Worse yet, she guiltily realized she kind of liked the idea. She
had practically run by her new red-headed secretary and locked herself in the
office. She started to buzz the secretary. With a start she realized she
couldn't remember her secretary's name. She had just gotten rid of Samantha,
the brunette; JoAnne never kept a secretary very long. She was concerned about
secretaries learning too much about her; shuffling them back into the
secretarial pool after 6 weeks or two big deals.
What was the name of the name of the new one; thin, red
hair, pixie cut, pointy nose; Lori? No. Lisa? No. Lil; Lillian.
That was it.
She punched the intercom on her phone. "Lillian, could
you bring me a glass of water please?" A somewhat puzzled, "Yes, Ma'am,"
came back. Which made sense, after all, JoAnne never asked for anything, she
ordered things, and she never, ever said please. Lillian quietly and
efficiently brought her the water, then stepped out. As she left JoAnne watched
her ass sway under her cream colored skirt. It was awfully perky and cute.
JoAnne squeaked.
She never, ever thought about things like that. She felt
warmth growing between her thighs, more and more intense, like an itch that
needed a scratch, but much, much more; personal. She shifted and tried to
concentrate on work, but the only emails she had were autoreplies informing her
that the recipients would be back after Christmas break. A curious tingling was
growing just above her privates. She frantically pulled her skirt up and looked
down. All her pubic hair was gone, except for a neatly trimmed patch just above
her cunt in the shape of a holly leaf. Even more of a shock, just to the left
of it was a tiny incredibly intricate tattoo of a mistletoe ball on crossed
candy canes. She could just make out the words "Christmas Magic.
Bitch." woven into the mistletoe. Shit. Shit. Shit. How the hell do you
explain that to your gynecologist?
Maybe it was one of those stick on tattoos, she could just
rub it.
The second she started rubbing, she knew she'd made a
mistake. The feeling shot over her like arcs of electricity; she felt her lips
go numb, her legs began to shake and her nipples grew achingly hard; she could
make out the tips through the fabric of her blouse.
She wanted to stop, she really did, but she couldn't; her
fingers were playing with her lips and clit almost instantly. Without stopping,
she managed to pull her skirt up around her waist and pull open her jacket and
shirt. She couldn't get the fucking bra off, but while she massaged her clit
she reached inside the bra and began to pinch and tweak her rock hard nipples.
She was so wet that her fingers slipped inside without her even realizing it.
First one, then a second. She felt her orgasm hit like a train, then a second,
then a third, leaving her gasping, barely able to move in her slowly rotating
chair. After a few minutes she rearranged herself into some semblance of order,
although her shirt and her jacket were each missing a button. No surprise
there. Still, she felt better than could ever remember feeling; relaxed, warm
and comfortable. She managed to make it through the next few hours, before she
decided to leave. Lillian was watching her curiously; not too surprising since
she never left before 5:00.
JoAnne heard herself say, "Go ahead and take a couple
hours, you probably have some Christmas shopping to do or something."
That got a warm smile and a "Thank you". The rest
of the evening was normal, although she did finger herself; just a little; in
the shower.
The Package.
The next morning, as JoAnne dressed for work, a number of
things became obvious. First off, most of her clothing was missing; not one bra
or panty was in the condominium. Even the bra she'd had on yesterday had
disappeared from the hamper. There was a card sitting on the kitchen island; from
Holly; advising her that she would "get those Manhattan Career Bitch
costumes back later" if she still wanted them. All her severe black suits
were gone as well; they were replaced with very expensive looking red silk
suits of a similar type with slightly shorter skirts and sheer white silk
blouses with decidedly more "decisive" necklines. Her shoes had
changed too; color and about an inch more heel, although they proved
surprisingly comfortable. The morning passed fairly productively; with only a
couple of odd glances from Lillian. To be on the safe side, she decided to
order lunch in the office, but it was almost two in the afternoon before
anything happened.
Lillian buzzed: "Miss, there's a bike messenger with a
package; he says I can't sign for it."
"Send him in."
A tall, muscular, dark haired guy with a small, brightly
colored box walked in. "Sorry, instructions were explicit, you'll have to
sign for it."
JoAnne sighed and reached for the box; as soon as she
touched it, one end popped open and something fell out onto the desk. A
vibrator. An enormous, brightly colored vibrator. And of course it hit right on
the on/off button. She and the messenger watched it buzz around in a circle on
her desktop for a long second before she grabbed it and fumbled it off.
"I, uh, this friend;”
"No problem. Short blonde woman; she looked like a
joker, all dressed up like an elf. Had a hell of a smirk. I figured it was some
kind of practical joke."
JoAnne watched his firm ass as he left. Lillian followed her
gaze as he walked out.
"Just want to bite that and hang on."
Instead of admonishing her to be more professional, JoAnne
found herself nodding and smiling like an idiot. She suddenly caught herself,
then hastily shut the door and retreated to her office.
The vibrator stared at her from the center of her desk. It
was red and white striped, of course. About 8 inches long, had little
gumdrop-like rubber nobs all over it and a bullet like tip of gold metal. She
decided to stick it in a desk drawer. Another mistake. As soon as she picked it
up, the tingling between her thighs began again, and she couldn't physically
put the vibrator down.
She reached with her empty hand and clicked the intercom on
the phone.
"Lillian. Hold my calls."
"Yes, Miss." There was something in Lillian's
voice, but JoAnne realized she didn't have time to deal with it; the tingling
was so intense it was almost painful; and she felt like she was suffocating in
her suit; it seemed like her clothes were lined with lead weights. She fumbled
her skirt off and opened her blouse and shirt, exposing her tits to the cool
office air. Her nipples were standing out like fucking spikes and she could
feel wetness between her thighs.
Good Lord. Her pussy was absolutely dripping. JoAnne clicked
on the vibrator and began to run the tip over her excited nipples. She moaned
loudly; it was a damn good thing the office was soundproof. Fuck, that felt
amazing. She licked her fingers and got her nipples really wet so they
stiffened even more with the cold and the vibrator. Damn, how long could they
get? Her breath was coming in short pants as she slumped in the chair, and
hooked each leg over a chair arm, spreading herself wide open.
"Fah-Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Pinching her nipples with her free hand she ran the vibrator
all over her inner thighs, eliciting more hot juice from an already wide open
and steaming pussy. When she couldn't wait any longer, she began to run the tip
of the vibrator over her pussy lips; she planned to do it for a while, but when
the tip hit her swollen clit, she spilled over into orgasm, screaming as
quietly as she could.
"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!"
As the spasms died away she meant to put the vibrator down
and get dressed but her hands seemed to have minds of their own, her free hand
spread her pussy lips wide open while she danced the vibrator in and out, just
an inch or so; then she plunged it into the gaping hole, screaming loudly as
the orgasms exploded through her. Even then, as she pulled the wet shaft out of
herself, her hand seemed to slip and the tip slipped down below her cunt,
resting against her asshole. The vibrations felt good. Surprisingly good; almost;
she felt another orgasm building. This time she did it; she began to
frantically rub her clit with her free hand while she gently pushed the tip of
the vibrator into her ass. By the time this orgasm settled, she realized had
three fingers up her twat and had shoved the vibrator into her ass almost four
inches. Still though, she felt in command enough to stop. She switched off the
vibrator and shakily dressed herself, thanking God for soundproofing.
After she caught her breath, she dropped the vibrator into
her purse and clicked the intercom.
"Lillian, you, uh, can resume forwarding my
calls."
"Yes, Miss." Very definitely a smile in her voice.
Fuck her, all she could do would be to spread rumors, and if she did she would
be back in the secretarial pool without the executive bonus pay.
The rest of the day passed quietly and she decided that on
her way out she would feel out if Lillian was going to say anything. As she
stepped out the door she watched the cute redhead suppress a wicked little
smile.
"Lillian, I thought it would be a good idea;”
Lillian intercepted the thought "...to remind me that
secretaries do not discuss their bosses activities with anyone at all. It's in
the confidentiality agreement we sign when we get sent up from the pool."
At first JoAnne was appalled that Lillian would cut in like
that, but she decided to try to be nice; a very different tack for her.
"Umm, yeah. I just didn't want any rumors to, you know,
start."
Lillian smiled mischievously. "I won't say anything to
anyone, but maybe next time you might want to completely shut your blinds. And
maybe turn off the intercom. Luckily, I was on headset. I don't mind sharing,
yesterday sounded great. Today sounded exquisite and looked even better; but if
you want privacy;”
JoAnne stared at the communication window to the office; it
was open nearly a foot. She was sure it had been closed yesterday; and she was
the only one with a remote for it. Even the intercom could only be turned on
from inside the office. She must have left it on when she; she began to turn
bright red, then raced from the office.
The Glass Elevator.
The next day was Saturday, her only real day off this week; Sunday
was a teleconference with Japan from the office, so she had to go in. She
stayed burrowed into her bed almost until noon; she just couldn't figure out
what to do about the office. If she stayed in her apartment, she might end up
masturbating, but at least she would be doing it without an audience. Just the
thought of Lillian listening to her and watching her made her feel; uncomfortable,
but somehow it didn't feel as bad as it should have, which worried her even
more.
She finally had to get out of bed to pee; and of course, her
pajamas had disappeared overnight. She went to put on a robe at least, but the
only thing in the apartment was a red skirt and white shirt combo that looked
like they might be made of tissue paper, and a dark red overcoat, a bit too
warm for the apartment, but suitable for the snow outside. And of course, red
fuck-me shoes.
After a moment of irritation she pulled on the skirt and
shirt; she might as well have been walking around topless for all the
View all episodes
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JoAnne’s Christmas Curse: Part 1
The Merry Misadventures of the Christmas Cursed.
Based on a post by Todd 1 72,
in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The Curse.
JoAnne forced her way brusquely through the dense crowd
toward the Thai place on the corner. Lord, she hated holiday shopping; screaming
brats, the jarring sounds of ringing bells, the constant fucking "gimme,
gimme, gimme" of the damn "charity" workers. As if they weren't
really there to guilt you into forking over the goddamn money. And all these
fucking people just kept on bumping against her, wrinkling her $2000 black
skirt and jacket power suit. Didn't they have somewhere to be, didn't people
work anymore?
Just as she broke free of the crowd, she half-ran-into and
half-plowed-over a diminutive blonde girl in some kind of Christmas outfit,
sending packages skittering across the frozen ground and knocking the
mini-skirted kid on her ass. Great, what the fuck was a kid doing out in the
middle of the day anyway; JoAnne stopped. From the size of her boobs, this was
no kid; a midget?
Crap, they used something else now, like small person or
some shit.
The blonde glared at her through her skewed hair while she
straightened her tilted elf hat for a second, then caught herself and smiled,
although, honestly, it looked a little more like she was gritting her teeth.
"Merry Christmas, huh?"
JoAnne rolled her eyes and started to walk on.
"Hey! Aren't you going to help me get all this shit
picked up?"
JoAnne looked over her shoulder at the flustered little
blonde. "Fuck off, I'm busy" and pushed her way into the Restaurant.
Finding her way to her usual seat, as she brushed her short, platinum blonde
hair back, she sat and pointed at the waitress who immediately ran to the
kitchen to get her order started and get her a damn drink. JoAnne pulled out
her blackberry and started to pull up her emails; about 10 seconds later her
system froze. Shit.
The chair across from her pulled out.
Without looking up, JoAnne growled. "I don't need any
company, and I need space to work. Fuck off." Even with her cold demeanor,
her pale skin, white blonde hair and blue eyes drew more attention than she'd
ever wanted.
Nothing happened. When she looked up, the tiny honey blonde
from outside was leaning back in the chair, staring at her with her arms
crossed under her outsized boobs. She looked a like a distinctly adult-oriented
version of an elf; long blonde hair, pointy ears, a micro-miniskirt and a huge
rack that barely stayed in her costume. Despite the rosy cheeks and turned up
nose, though, the twinkle in her eyes looked extremely icy.
JoAnne sighed. Oh well, if the little bitch wanted to be a
problem, she'd have her thrown out. She started to look around for a waiter,
then realized nobody was moving. Nobody at all. Inside or in the vast crowd
outside. No sound. Everything was frozen. She looked back at the girl, who
slowly arched her left eyebrow in an overly dramatic fashion.
"Look Sister, I'd tell you not to do anything stupid,
but that would be wasted effort. You can't do anything, you're stuck in that
chair until I say otherwise. Elf. Christmas. Magic. Bitch."
JoAnne started to protest, but her mouth simply froze as the
Elf raised her hand.
"Don't bother. This isn't a dream. You didn't fall and
hit your head. You haven't even had a drink today yet. And it sure as fuck-all
wasn't that nasty bran concoction you had for breakfast. On your salary you eat
sawdust for breakfast? Fuck, eat a good breakfast and spend five more minutes
on the damn elliptical."
She waved her hand and JoAnne found she could speak again.
"Look if you want an apology;”
The Elf cut her off again "It wouldn't be sincere and
you wouldn't learn a god damn thing. Don't bullshit me, Baby, I'm a whole lot
older than I look. Besides, I have your file."
She leaned back, reached two fingers into her ample cleavage
and pulled out an ornate, gilt edged scroll, untied it and began to read over
it: "Let's see; JoAnne Steadmann, age 32. No personal relationships. Wow,
that sucks. You seem to have a severe case of Greed, brought on by a
Self-Centered Nature and a Lack of Human Empathy, which seems to have developed
around puberty;” Her voice trailed off as she read more.
Then: "Damn!? You're Frigid? No Orgasms? No wonder
you're a grade-A Bitch! Hell, I wouldn't wish that on anyone! Got your cherry
popped in High School, but didn't enjoy it at all. And you didn't even
experiment at Wellesley? Damn that's like the lickety-slit capitol of the
world. You missed out on a whole lot of the sweet stuff there, Baby."
JoAnne just glared at her. Whatever the hell this was about,
the little blonde bitch had no right digging into her personal life.
"On the bright side you're not entirely freaked out by
this, and that's rarer than you think. Too many people have lost belief in
Christmas magic; they can lose it completely when shit like this happens.
You're pretty enough in platinum-blonde-career bitch sort of way. And,
according to Records Division, you never developed any real sex aversions, so
that's good;”
Shaking her head, the Elf hastily re-rolled the scroll,
tucked it back between her oversized boobs, then leaned forward looking
intently into JoAnne's eyes. "I can fix this; but I have to follow the
rules. I'm not allowed to just go around helping humanity; free will and all
that shit. But I can inflict a Christmas lesson on you because you denied the
True Meaning of Christmas. You were rude. To an Elf. Within the Fortnight of
Christmas."
JoAnne leaned back in shock. "Is this going to be one
of those ghosts things? I;”
The Elf shook her head "Ghosts wouldn't help you at
all." She paused. "God, I love that one, it's a classic but it won't
work here. I am giving you the gift of Lust. I am removing most of your
inhibitions; the sexual ones anyway and 'cursing' you so that at least once a
day until Midnight on Christmas Eve, you're going to find yourself in a
situation that ends up in sex of some kind or other. Nothing dangerous, nothing
that will destroy your life. You may end up feeling a little used and a bit
humiliated, but you'll like it. Besides, a little humility would do you a lot
of good, Sunshine."
JoAnne felt her anger flare "Nobody uses;” And
just as quickly found herself muted as the Elf stood up.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road, I've got
some fucking Joy to spread by the end of the day. Gimme the panties, you won't
be needing them."
JoAnne tried to resist, but found herself standing, reaching
under her skirt and pulling off her black silk underwear and handing them over.
She watched in disgust as the little Elf held them up to her
nose and breathed in deeply. The Elf shook her head sadly and looked at JoAnne.
"Nothing. Just Fabric softener and soap. You really are Frigid. I'm fixing
that right now."
She stepped over to JoAnne and reached up under her skirt. JoAnne
felt the Elf's very warm hand cup her crotch.
The Elf looked her in the eye "Damn. Closed up tighter
than a bank vault." She rubbed her palm back and forth for a second.
"Ah, there it is!" JoAnne's knees nearly gave out and she almost fell
to the ground as she felt something hot surge through her whole body, but the
Elf steadied her and guided her back into her seat.
As Joanne watched, the Elf licked her fingertips delicately.
"Much better."
"That was your First Orgasm. It's been sort of stuck in
the gate for a damn long time. It was a little weak from the time attenuation,
so the next time it will feel better."
JoAnne stiffened. "Buh, better?"
"More powerful, longer."
JoAnne couldn't even imagine that. The Elf continued on
without really noticing JoAnne's reaction.
"Here's the deal, you get a little something every day,
each day gets a little more extreme and a little more intense. I've used this
one a lot; it was practically standard in Vicki's day; Queen Victoria. It will
be a real experience, but you can handle it. Still, if it gets to be too much,
call my name three times; its 'Holly Mistletoe" and I'll pop in to help. If
you really need it."
Suddenly, with a sound like a balloon popping in reverse,
Holly was gone and everything was in motion. The waitress rushed up with her
drink; which she drank in one gulp, and her food arrived almost immediately.
She managed to catch her breath and tried to act normal, although she just
didn't have it in her to bitch at the waitress for being too slow like she
usually did. She even caught herself leaving a much larger tip than usual. She
must be shaken up.
The Tattoo.
JoAnne slipped into her desk; the walk back had been weird.
She'd been so damn conscious of not wearing any underwear, and she normally
never thought about; that. And she felt almost feverishly warm, with everybody
bumping into her. She kept wondering if they somehow knew she was
panty-less. Worse yet, she guiltily realized she kind of liked the idea. She
had practically run by her new red-headed secretary and locked herself in the
office. She started to buzz the secretary. With a start she realized she
couldn't remember her secretary's name. She had just gotten rid of Samantha,
the brunette; JoAnne never kept a secretary very long. She was concerned about
secretaries learning too much about her; shuffling them back into the
secretarial pool after 6 weeks or two big deals.
What was the name of the name of the new one; thin, red
hair, pixie cut, pointy nose; Lori? No. Lisa? No. Lil; Lillian.
That was it.
She punched the intercom on her phone. "Lillian, could
you bring me a glass of water please?" A somewhat puzzled, "Yes, Ma'am,"
came back. Which made sense, after all, JoAnne never asked for anything, she
ordered things, and she never, ever said please. Lillian quietly and
efficiently brought her the water, then stepped out. As she left JoAnne watched
her ass sway under her cream colored skirt. It was awfully perky and cute.
JoAnne squeaked.
She never, ever thought about things like that. She felt
warmth growing between her thighs, more and more intense, like an itch that
needed a scratch, but much, much more; personal. She shifted and tried to
concentrate on work, but the only emails she had were autoreplies informing her
that the recipients would be back after Christmas break. A curious tingling was
growing just above her privates. She frantically pulled her skirt up and looked
down. All her pubic hair was gone, except for a neatly trimmed patch just above
her cunt in the shape of a holly leaf. Even more of a shock, just to the left
of it was a tiny incredibly intricate tattoo of a mistletoe ball on crossed
candy canes. She could just make out the words "Christmas Magic.
Bitch." woven into the mistletoe. Shit. Shit. Shit. How the hell do you
explain that to your gynecologist?
Maybe it was one of those stick on tattoos, she could just
rub it.
The second she started rubbing, she knew she'd made a
mistake. The feeling shot over her like arcs of electricity; she felt her lips
go numb, her legs began to shake and her nipples grew achingly hard; she could
make out the tips through the fabric of her blouse.
She wanted to stop, she really did, but she couldn't; her
fingers were playing with her lips and clit almost instantly. Without stopping,
she managed to pull her skirt up around her waist and pull open her jacket and
shirt. She couldn't get the fucking bra off, but while she massaged her clit
she reached inside the bra and began to pinch and tweak her rock hard nipples.
She was so wet that her fingers slipped inside without her even realizing it.
First one, then a second. She felt her orgasm hit like a train, then a second,
then a third, leaving her gasping, barely able to move in her slowly rotating
chair. After a few minutes she rearranged herself into some semblance of order,
although her shirt and her jacket were each missing a button. No surprise
there. Still, she felt better than could ever remember feeling; relaxed, warm
and comfortable. She managed to make it through the next few hours, before she
decided to leave. Lillian was watching her curiously; not too surprising since
she never left before 5:00.
JoAnne heard herself say, "Go ahead and take a couple
hours, you probably have some Christmas shopping to do or something."
That got a warm smile and a "Thank you". The rest
of the evening was normal, although she did finger herself; just a little; in
the shower.
The Package.
The next morning, as JoAnne dressed for work, a number of
things became obvious. First off, most of her clothing was missing; not one bra
or panty was in the condominium. Even the bra she'd had on yesterday had
disappeared from the hamper. There was a card sitting on the kitchen island; from
Holly; advising her that she would "get those Manhattan Career Bitch
costumes back later" if she still wanted them. All her severe black suits
were gone as well; they were replaced with very expensive looking red silk
suits of a similar type with slightly shorter skirts and sheer white silk
blouses with decidedly more "decisive" necklines. Her shoes had
changed too; color and about an inch more heel, although they proved
surprisingly comfortable. The morning passed fairly productively; with only a
couple of odd glances from Lillian. To be on the safe side, she decided to
order lunch in the office, but it was almost two in the afternoon before
anything happened.
Lillian buzzed: "Miss, there's a bike messenger with a
package; he says I can't sign for it."
"Send him in."
A tall, muscular, dark haired guy with a small, brightly
colored box walked in. "Sorry, instructions were explicit, you'll have to
sign for it."
JoAnne sighed and reached for the box; as soon as she
touched it, one end popped open and something fell out onto the desk. A
vibrator. An enormous, brightly colored vibrator. And of course it hit right on
the on/off button. She and the messenger watched it buzz around in a circle on
her desktop for a long second before she grabbed it and fumbled it off.
"I, uh, this friend;”
"No problem. Short blonde woman; she looked like a
joker, all dressed up like an elf. Had a hell of a smirk. I figured it was some
kind of practical joke."
JoAnne watched his firm ass as he left. Lillian followed her
gaze as he walked out.
"Just want to bite that and hang on."
Instead of admonishing her to be more professional, JoAnne
found herself nodding and smiling like an idiot. She suddenly caught herself,
then hastily shut the door and retreated to her office.
The vibrator stared at her from the center of her desk. It
was red and white striped, of course. About 8 inches long, had little
gumdrop-like rubber nobs all over it and a bullet like tip of gold metal. She
decided to stick it in a desk drawer. Another mistake. As soon as she picked it
up, the tingling between her thighs began again, and she couldn't physically
put the vibrator down.
She reached with her empty hand and clicked the intercom on
the phone.
"Lillian. Hold my calls."
"Yes, Miss." There was something in Lillian's
voice, but JoAnne realized she didn't have time to deal with it; the tingling
was so intense it was almost painful; and she felt like she was suffocating in
her suit; it seemed like her clothes were lined with lead weights. She fumbled
her skirt off and opened her blouse and shirt, exposing her tits to the cool
office air. Her nipples were standing out like fucking spikes and she could
feel wetness between her thighs.
Good Lord. Her pussy was absolutely dripping. JoAnne clicked
on the vibrator and began to run the tip over her excited nipples. She moaned
loudly; it was a damn good thing the office was soundproof. Fuck, that felt
amazing. She licked her fingers and got her nipples really wet so they
stiffened even more with the cold and the vibrator. Damn, how long could they
get? Her breath was coming in short pants as she slumped in the chair, and
hooked each leg over a chair arm, spreading herself wide open.
"Fah-Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Pinching her nipples with her free hand she ran the vibrator
all over her inner thighs, eliciting more hot juice from an already wide open
and steaming pussy. When she couldn't wait any longer, she began to run the tip
of the vibrator over her pussy lips; she planned to do it for a while, but when
the tip hit her swollen clit, she spilled over into orgasm, screaming as
quietly as she could.
"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!"
As the spasms died away she meant to put the vibrator down
and get dressed but her hands seemed to have minds of their own, her free hand
spread her pussy lips wide open while she danced the vibrator in and out, just
an inch or so; then she plunged it into the gaping hole, screaming loudly as
the orgasms exploded through her. Even then, as she pulled the wet shaft out of
herself, her hand seemed to slip and the tip slipped down below her cunt,
resting against her asshole. The vibrations felt good. Surprisingly good; almost;
she felt another orgasm building. This time she did it; she began to
frantically rub her clit with her free hand while she gently pushed the tip of
the vibrator into her ass. By the time this orgasm settled, she realized had
three fingers up her twat and had shoved the vibrator into her ass almost four
inches. Still though, she felt in command enough to stop. She switched off the
vibrator and shakily dressed herself, thanking God for soundproofing.
After she caught her breath, she dropped the vibrator into
her purse and clicked the intercom.
"Lillian, you, uh, can resume forwarding my
calls."
"Yes, Miss." Very definitely a smile in her voice.
Fuck her, all she could do would be to spread rumors, and if she did she would
be back in the secretarial pool without the executive bonus pay.
The rest of the day passed quietly and she decided that on
her way out she would feel out if Lillian was going to say anything. As she
stepped out the door she watched the cute redhead suppress a wicked little
smile.
"Lillian, I thought it would be a good idea;”
Lillian intercepted the thought "...to remind me that
secretaries do not discuss their bosses activities with anyone at all. It's in
the confidentiality agreement we sign when we get sent up from the pool."
At first JoAnne was appalled that Lillian would cut in like
that, but she decided to try to be nice; a very different tack for her.
"Umm, yeah. I just didn't want any rumors to, you know,
start."
Lillian smiled mischievously. "I won't say anything to
anyone, but maybe next time you might want to completely shut your blinds. And
maybe turn off the intercom. Luckily, I was on headset. I don't mind sharing,
yesterday sounded great. Today sounded exquisite and looked even better; but if
you want privacy;”
JoAnne stared at the communication window to the office; it
was open nearly a foot. She was sure it had been closed yesterday; and she was
the only one with a remote for it. Even the intercom could only be turned on
from inside the office. She must have left it on when she; she began to turn
bright red, then raced from the office.
The Glass Elevator.
The next day was Saturday, her only real day off this week; Sunday
was a teleconference with Japan from the office, so she had to go in. She
stayed burrowed into her bed almost until noon; she just couldn't figure out
what to do about the office. If she stayed in her apartment, she might end up
masturbating, but at least she would be doing it without an audience. Just the
thought of Lillian listening to her and watching her made her feel; uncomfortable,
but somehow it didn't feel as bad as it should have, which worried her even
more.
She finally had to get out of bed to pee; and of course, her
pajamas had disappeared overnight. She went to put on a robe at least, but the
only thing in the apartment was a red skirt and white shirt combo that looked
like they might be made of tissue paper, and a dark red overcoat, a bit too
warm for the apartment, but suitable for the snow outside. And of course, red
fuck-me shoes.
After a moment of irritation she pulled on the skirt and
shirt; she might as well have been walking around topless for all the
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