Unfair?
She felt really grumpy that afternoon but knew that she had no options. She had messed up badly and this was the outcome. She could've complained about it as much as she liked, but the moans would've fallen on deaf ears.
So, it was time to man up and complete the expected wager and it was with more disdain than trepidation that she click-clacked her way out of work that evening, wearing her highest and glossiest red stiletto heeled shoes. The look on her face was sure to dissuade anyone from approaching her and her upright demeanor spoke volumes about the emphasis she was placing on her business right now. She was not in a chatty mood and woe betide anyone who tried to.
Some of the younger women looked up from the side offices as she passed out through the foyer doors, but she only met the eyes of one, immediately the other side of the main desk as she paused there briefly. The lanyard fob around her neck required her to lean forward to meet it to it's counterpart, so a quick survey around made sure that no one was behind to catch sight of her rising coat, and her hand on the lanyard had the dual purpose of stopping the coat lapels possibly gaping at her neck.
Most of the men she had seen around the building had already done a double take as she looked very different to her usual style. Glossy red lipstick complimented the shoes, though her usual heavyish coat and loosely tied scarf mostly concealed what was beneath.
Keeping her head down and eyes always averted, she passed out from the reception and quickly made her way out of the building, the sound of her slutty heels now echoing discordantly in the open space, seemingly amplifying her feelings of vulnerability and dress.
Far from the doors now and way into the dubious quality of city air, discordant beeps and traffic noises mingling haphazardly with multiple passers-by chatter and telephone conversation.
Standing still for a moment, she took stock of her situation, as people around her swerved slightly to avoid collision, the sounds of cheap brakes and bicycle tyres swishing on the slabbed pedestrian area before the road.
The mid-thigh length coat was belted tightly around her waist, hiding complete nudity beneath; thus were the terms of the forfeit. As cold as she should have felt in the weak sun of late spring, she felt a surprising warmth envelope her body, created without doubt by the circumstances.
The bus park-and-ride stop was only a short walk and one she had done multiple times. Her preferred and usual attire were trousers teamed with many layers of blouses, cardigans and tops. This was to be the first time she would have to make the journey whilst feeling anything less than complete respectability. But that was, she mulled, the entire point.
Half the sanction was to feel somewhat exhibited, though all of it was to feel feminine, exotic and desired. She felt slightly out of her comfort zone by wearing the shiny red shoes, but that was only because she wasn't used to wearing them out rather than anything more.
A quick scan around showed her that the afternoon commuter rush had already started and that no one was paying her explicit attention. For that, she was grateful.
Come on girl, she told herself, time to get moving.
The stroll was a short distance and one she would have done at full pelt normally, clutching a handbag under her arm and trying to remain anonymous in the crowd.
This time, the stiletto heels slowed her passage to the point that each step she took felt more like a sashay, and the further she went, the more she began to appreciate the sexiness of a slow gait.
Ahead she could see the bus she needed temporarily halted at red lights and a ready queue of people waiting at the shelter. Any other time, she would have felt hastened to join them, worried at being left behind.
Today though, speed was not an option.
The lights changed to green and the bus started making rapid progress towards the stop directly between them. Indicator on, she heard from where she was, the hiss of air brakes as it slowed to pick up its passengers.
If she tripped, the short coat would be up and her bare bottom would be on display, not to mention everything else that would have usually remained private.
Consciously and deliberately, she maintained the sashay, getting closer and closer to her goal.
All of a sudden, she was aware of the bus driver's eyes on her, a faint look of appreciation on his face and the sudden subconscious knowledge that he was not rushing to leave the stop without her on board. She still had a couple of yards to go and on any other day, she would have been worried as to whether she would make it on time.
She smiled in his direction, though mostly at her own feelings of raw sex appeal. It made her feel extremely powerful. Was he looking at her make up, her red lipstick, her flowing blonde hair, or her long, bare legs and exquisitely presented feet. Or was her confident attitude the allure?
For the first time since she had discarded most of her clothes at her office and swapped her sensible black shoes for the ultra sexy ones she now wore, she felt she was back in some semblance of control of her own destiny.
Her slower than usual progress to the bus had actually slowed her breathing rate and reasonably calmed her. She could see her entire forfeit now being completed with ease and potentially with some enjoyment.
She reached the bus door without a problem, the last of the previously waiting queue, already aboard and seated with no thronging melee in the aisle.
Aware she was flashing more thigh, she stepped up onto the bus, fixated on presenting the ready ticket in her hand and ignoring what else she might have been presenting as her one shapely leg split from the other.
No seating gaps obvious, her hand instinctively through an overhead straphanger for stability, the doors swished closed behind her and she felt the engine rumble as it was gunned out into the traffic.
Though most people were looking out of the windows, she felt a couple of eyes on her, though as she scanned around, she felt, rather than saw them look away instead of meeting her gaze.
It was a strange experience being the centre attraction for the people either side of the bus in the extra wide priority seating area. They couldn't fail to notice her bare legs and sky high stilettos, but what were they thinking? Were they even aware of her? Holding the hanger above as she was, her shoulders had the effect of lifting her coat slightly from its usual length on her thigh. She looked around to see who would notice the excess of thigh.
A dowdy woman with sleep deprived eyes, the weight of the world on her shoulders and a habitual watch glance was either so self involved that she hadn't noticed or remembering a time she too was able to dress up for an evening. Did she care? The young woman with the push chair beside her was far too involved with the tightly wrapped child within it's cocoon to even notice her.
The young city suited gent with patchy stubble seemed to have one eye on her whilst the rest of his attention seemed taken with the phone clamped to his ear.
As the only honest occupant of the priority seating area, an older gentleman with a surprisingly expensive overcoat and walking stick, balefully regarded her from behind designer glasses, whilst sucking on something that smelt lemony. His bushy grey eyebrows gave nothing away, and the pair of youngish lesbian girls in the following forward facing seats were too involved in each other to appraise her. There was no line of sight for anybody behind them.
Safe.
This wasn't a big deal after all.
When she had lost the bet and found out that she was expected to make good on the stake, the thought of what she had to do worried her initially: She had to leave work in just her coat, stilettos and too much make up, then make her way back to the carpark where she had left her vehicle that morning using the park-and-ride bus service.
The thought alone was enough to make her heart beat hard. Comfort zone? What comfort zone? This was putting her a long way outside and far beyond it.
Her thoughts had been: what if she was jumped on by someone? The people though around this part of Bristol at this time of the evening were more concerned about getting home. A worry about exposing parts of herself that should remain private. Yet no one could see anything more than if she had skirt and knickers beneath. What if someone judged her for her attire? She didn't know anyone there though, and she could well be on her way to a night out with a designer dress on beneath.
Still.
It felt naughtier than she felt it looked. The air felt musty inside the bus, but the breezy walk from the building and now the crossing and uncrossing of her feet for comfort as the vehicle moved on the road was causing stimulation on her labia and she could tell that she was moist from the exertions. Her hand above her head was lifting her ribcage and causing the rubbing of her nipples against the material of her coat, overly stimulating them to an unfortunate hardness.
