The Office Slut

The Start of things.

The whole thing started with a discussion among a group of us in the rest room at Hinkerman's, the company where I worked in the typing pool.

It was all about how far you would be willing to go for money. It had started with a reality TV program that had been shown the previous evening, where girls had been offered money to flash their boobs in public.

The shows presenter could have offered the girls up to £100, but it was surprising just how little he got away with. There was one especially attractive young lady who willingly showed her generous assets to the thousands of viewers for the paltry sum of £20.

The discussion went on for some time and it seemed that most of us around the table would be willing to do almost anything legal if the money was right.

Just then Mandy from admin chipped in. "What about actually having sex with someone, like in that Michael Douglas film, where he offered this guy a lot of money to sleep with his wife?."

We all glanced at each other. No one wanted to take the lead at this point, so I shook my head and smiled. "If the amount of money offered me was going to make a big difference to my life, I would certainly consider it."

What escaped my notice at the time was that sitting at the next table to us there was someone who was sipping slowly on his cup of coffee, taking a great interest in our conversation.

I was back at my desk later that afternoon when I received a call to go over to head office, which was situated a few blocks away from where I worked in the distribution office. I called and informed my head of section that I had to leave, but she told me that she had already been notified. It was a little worrying to be called to head office, as they did not say what it was about, just that I was to report to the main reception desk.

The very attractive receptionist who greeted me was wearing what I thought was a rather low-cut dress. She smiled, asked me my name, and then consulted her list on her desk. She informed me that my meeting was with the Chief Executive Officer's Personal Assistant, a Keith Mellor. She gave me directions to his office, and then handed me a pass.

"You will need this to get into the head office section," she said, flashing me a beaming smile.

As I rode up on the elevator, I was still a little worried, and wondering why I had been called over to head office. Emerging from the lift, I swiped the card in the unit at the side of the door. It opened to admit me into a rather plush section. An attractive man who looked to be in his mid 40's was waiting for me.

"Samantha?" he said, holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

He took my arm and led me up the wide corridor with doors down both sides and ushered me into a spacious office. It was fitted out to a very high standard of luxury. It also had large picture windows that overlooked the river and the riverside walk.

"Take a seat, Samantha. Can I offer you a cool drink?" he said, indicating a tray on which was a large pitcher of iced orange juice.

I smiled and nodded. "That would be very nice. Thank you, sir."

He got up from behind his large desk and poured out two glasses of orange juice, handing one to me as he sat down. Then he began to look through some papers on his desk.

"Just want to go through a few things with you, if that's alright." He said. I nodded.

"I see you are not married." Again I nodded.

"Do you have a boy friend at the moment?"

"Not at the moment," I said with a slight smile. "I'm just between them." He smiled.

"Do you live on your own?" he asked.

I nodded and told him that I did, and that I had only a few weeks ago moved into a new apartment.

"Do you like working for Hinkermans?" he asked.

"Yes, I like it very much."

"Do we pay you enough?"

I looked at him, smiling. "Well, yes, the pay's not bad," I said, "but if you are offering me a pay raise, I can certainly put it to good use." He nodded his head knowingly, and smiled.

"What is your take home pay, about £1200 a month?" he asked.

"Around that, sometimes a little either way, depends on bonuses."

"How would you like to maybe double that?" he asked. "Say, £3000 a month?"

I looked at him in amazement. "For doing what?" I asked.

"Well, that depends on you, young lady. I have been informed that you would be willing to do almost anything if the money were right?" He looked straight at me.

I quickly remembered the discussion we had at lunchtime. How the hell had he found out about that so quickly?

I smiled. "That was just a bit of a laugh, sir," I said.

"So you did not mean what you said?" He looked at me.

I thought for a moment, wondering what this was all leading up to. I shrugged. "Well, I suppose I might, depending on what I was asked to do and how much I was offered to do it."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a large bundle of new £20 notes, and began to count them out. Then he picked up the ones he had counted and placed them in front of me.

"There's £500," he said. "It's yours if you would remove your blouse." I looked at him in amazement.

"You are joking?"

He shook his head. "No," he said, "I'm serious. The money's yours if you take off your blouse."

I was stunned and amazed by his suggestion. Here I was sitting in the office of one of the senior managers of the firm, and he was offering me £500 pounds to take off my blouse in front of him. £500 was nearly two weeks wages. I have to say, I was equally torn between slapping his face and ripping my blouse off.

I still did not understand. "You are asking me to take off my blouse here in your office and you will give me £500? He nodded.

"What's the catch?" I asked.

He shook his head. "There is no catch, Samantha; just remove your blouse and you can pick up the money."

I looked at the money, then at him. "Just my blouse?" I asked. He nodded.

What the hell, I thought, what's the problem of taking off my blouse? I could certainly use £500. I slowly started to unbutton my blouse. He leaned back in the chair watching me. When all the buttons were undone, I eased it down my arms and slipped out of it. I laid it on my lap and sat there facing him. At least, I was glad I had decided to wear one of my nicer bras today.

"That was not too difficult, was it?" he asked. I shrugged. I was beginning to feel a little self-conscious the way he was looking at me with me sitting there in my bra. It was a white lace one and I knew he could probably make out the dark areas of my areolas beneath the thin lace panels. I was also suddenly conscious of my nipples beginning to stir. Oh my god, I thought to myself, they are becoming erect. Now he can't help but notice them.

"The £500 is yours, Samantha," he said as he pushed it towards me. I looked at the thick bundle of crisp new £20 notes. All that, I thought, just for taking my blouse off.

"How would you like another £500?" he asked.

With all honesty, I have to say that I had half expected him to ask. "For what?" I asked.

"Your skirt," he said, a slight smile on his face.

I must say I was becoming a little unsure about the situation now. I wondered just where things were going. How far was he expecting me to go? More to the point, how far was I willing to go? The offer of another £500 for my skirt was very tempting, but could I do it? I thought about what I was wearing under the skirt: just a brief white thong and my hold up stockings, but then £500 was an awful lot of money.

He slowly counted out the money and pushed it to the centre of his desk. He looked at me; I licked my lips nervously. I realised that I could get up and walk out of here with a thousand pounds just for taking my blouse and skirt off in front of this old lecher and letting him get a look at me in my underwear.

Hesitantly, I stood up. I placed my blouse on his desk and then I began to unclip my skirt before sliding down the zip. Then I slowly eased the skirt over my hips; it dropped to the floor. I stepped out of it, and then I stooped to pick it up before laying it on top of my blouse. I nervously adjusted my stockings, then stood there looking at him feeling even more self conscious.

I realised at once as I stood there that my thong was maybe a little brief and left very little to the imagination. I was also beginning to feel a little heated displaying myself to him like this. He nodded his approval. "You are a very attractive young lady," he said, his eyes running over my lightly clad body.

I was by this time beginning to feel even more self-conscious for I knew that my brief attire did not conceal very much, and Keith Mellor was certainly taking a great interest in what I had on display. I stood there for a moment letting him look at me. Suddenly, my legs began to feel a little shaky. I sank back in the chair and crossed my legs.

I, of course, knew that now that I had gone this far, he was probably going to want more. Was I going to be able to refuse him? What was he going to offer me? I thought back to the lunch time discussion where I had stated quite categorically that I would be willing to do anything legal if the money were right.

"Well," he said slowly, "what are you going to make me pay for the pleasure of seeing you remove those last two items?"

I looked at him and shook my head. "I couldn't, sir, no, this is as far as I am willing to go," I said quickly.

"Are you quite sure?" he asked.

I nodded and began to reach for my clothes. He put his hand out and stopped me.

"But you said earlier today that you would be willing to do anything legal if the price were right," he said. "Taking your clothes off is not illegal, so you name the price."

I looked at him. I was now feeling quite warm, and even a little excited, being in just my brief revealing underwear. I knew I was also beginning to get a little aroused as I felt that damp, warm, creeping sensation between my thighs.

"A thousand pounds?" I suddenly heard myself saying.

He looked at me. "For both?" he asked.

"No," I suddenly blurted out. "For each."

"You are an expensive young lady," he said. Then slowly he began counting the money out on the desk. Oh shit, I thought he would laugh at me if I asked for a thousand. Now suddenly there was no turning back. I had gotten myself into this. I watched as he counted out the two stacks of notes, a thousand pounds in each. He slid them in my direction.

"There you are, it's all yours," he said with a slight grin. Then he settled back in his large chair. "Now, take it nice and slow, Samantha," he said. "I want to enjoy this."

I was in a bit of a daze as shakily I got to my feet. I reached behind my back, and with unsteady fingers, I unclasped my bra. It fell loose. I eased it slowly away allowing him to get his first look at my firm breasts. I was embarrassed to feel that my nipples were already standing to attention. He nodded his head approvingly as I dropped my bra onto his desk with my other clothes.

At this stage, I was feeling that I wanted to run from the room, but I was rooted to the spot in front of his desk, and I was now about to remove my last small item of clothing and allow him to see me naked. With shaking fingers, I gripped the waistband of my brief thong and began to ease it down, exposing as I did so my neatly trimmed bush. How glad I was that I had that bikini wax yesterday. The damp thong then dropped to the floor and I stepped out of it. I stood before him all but naked in nothing but my hold ups and heels.

"You certainly have a beautiful body, Samantha," he said, looking me up and down, "and if I may say so, well worth the money you asked."

I just stood there, my hands hanging loosely at my side, not sure what to do with them now that I had removed all my clothes.

I was beginning to feel very conscious of my nakedness standing there in front of him. I was also aware that I was gradually becoming more sexually aroused. My nipples had as usual become hard and prominent, and now I could feel myself becoming damp between my thighs. I am sure that Mr. Mellor had noticed my discomfort, but he did nothing but sit back in his chair and look at me.

At last he sat up and smiled at me. "It wasn't too bad, was it?" he asked.

I shook my head and smiled. "I have to admit, it was a lot easier than I would have expected."

"How would you feel about doing it again, say maybe on a regular basis? Could you do it?" he asked. I looked at him a little shocked and surprised. I couldn't believe what he was asking of me. Was he suggesting that I should become a stripper?

I shook my head. "I don't know; it depends on the circumstances."

"You mean how much money is on the table?"

I nodded slowly. "Well, yes, I suppose that's what I'm saying."

He looked me up and down and smiled. "How do you feel about sex?"

There was a silence in the room. Here I was, standing naked in front of this guy's desk. How could I not help feeling randy? My nipples were aching and my pussy was juicing up and now this guy asked me how I felt about sex.

He smiled at my discomfort. "I can see you are becoming aroused," he said. I felt myself blushing slightly. "But let me assure you this is as far as things go." I have to admit I felt slightly relieved in one way, but sorry in another.

I knew in my own mind that having gone this far and feeling as I did, it would not have taken much persuasion from him to let things go further.

"Well," he said, opening up a folder lying on his desk. He took out what to me looked like a cheque. He held it in is hand looking at it. "I have been authorised by the management on the completion of out little trial to offer you this on an agreement from you that for a period of one month you make yourself available to all the members of the management team."

I looked at him horrified. "You can't be serious," I said.

"For the money they're offering you, the offer is deadly serious."

He passed me the cheque. I was about to throw it at him when I saw the amount written on it. He had earlier mentioned offering me £3,000 a month; the cheque I was holding was for four times that amount: £12,000.

"Is this a serious offer?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "very serious."

My god, I thought, £12,000 for just one month's work? How bad could it be? Even if they wanted more from me than just seeing me naked, they couldn't ask me to do anything I hadn't done before. I was no innocent young girl, far from it, and it was only for 30 days.

"OK," I said, "I'll do it."

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked. I nodded. "I'm sure."

He passed a sheet of paper across to me. "This is to cover us from any litigation. It's to say that you have agreed to do this of your own free will and no pressure as been put on you." I looked at him, took the pen he was holding, and signed the paper. He folded it and then placed it in the folder on his desk.

Just then the phone on his desk rang. He reached over and picked it up. "No problem," he said. "I'm just about clear; bring the papers in and I will sign them straight away." On hearing his comments, I made a move to pick up my clothes when he stopped me.

"No, Samantha, don't bother with those just yet. I have a little task for you, just to see how you shape up." I looked at him and then nervously at the door, expecting someone to come in at any moment.

"I want you to step over there." He pointed to a corner of the office opposite the door. I walked over to where he had indicated. "Now turn round," he said. I turned and faced the wall. "Now Samantha, I want you to bend over and grasp hold of your ankles."

Hesitantly, I did as I was instructed. I at once realised that I was in a very revealing position. I knew in this position both my backside and my pussy would be clearly visible to any one entering the room. "Now Samantha, I want you to spread your legs slightly." Again, I did as I was told.

"Now, I want you to stop like that and don't move until I tell you to." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. My legs were shaking. I was warm and I had begun to feel weak again. I heard Mellor call to whoever was at the door to enter; I heard the door open and someone walked into the office. I did not know if it were a man or a woman. Nothing was said, by Mellor or the person who had entered. I began to wonder if maybe it were not unusual to walk into an office here and come across a totally naked female lewdly displaying herself like this.

Then I heard Mellor thank whoever it was, and the door close as they went out. I stayed in my instructed position. "That was very good, Samantha," I was surprised to hear Mellor's voice close behind me. Then I almost died as I felt something touch my exposed pussy and slide slowly up the damp cleft.

"You are extremely aroused, aren't you Samantha?" he said. I mumbled something to the affirmative as the inquisitive fingers continued their exploration of my womanly charms.

"Would you like me to take care of the situation, or maybe you would like to sort out the problem yourself?"

By now, in my sexually aroused mind, I needed some relief. Should I agree to let him do whatever he desired, or should I say no? The other option, I realized, was to relieve myself while he watched. I managed to decide that the latter was probably the preferred option as far as I was concerned.

He had already seen all there was to see; he had humiliated me in front of I knew not who, so to have to masturbate while he watched was, I considered, better than letting him have his way with me.

He made me sit in an armchair with my legs spread, resting one leg over each arm. Then he sat and watched as I finger fucked myself. I was of course extremely wet, and my juices were flowing profusely as furiously I worked myself up to an explosive orgasm. When it was over, I just lay there exhausted. I did not know how long I had been in his office, but in that time, I had stripped for money, displayed my private parts to a total stranger, and finally masturbated in front of him. I wondered just what more the next thirty days held for me.