This is a follow up to my story 'A Naked Introduction'. I recommend reading that first before you continue....
My first day with Fletcher and Felicity Medical Supplies was rather memorable, but for all the wrong reasons. I was still a frantic, flustered mess after the whole ordeal that followed with my interview. The entire weekend, I kept replaying the whole scenario over and over again in my mind, as if it were on some kind of loop. I was exposed. Naked. Vulnerable. On display with nowhere to hide. A sea of amused and perplexed women outwardly mocking my lack of endowment. I was publicly eviscerated, humiliated and symbolically emasculated.
I always had a great deal of pride in my appearance and even lied to myself that I was an Adonis, an alpha male, someone that could make women swoon with nothing but a crooked cocky smile. Nothing could be further from the truth. The exposure, ridicule, mockery and shame I felt left me battered, shattered and a broken shell of a man. Emotionally, it was devastating. Even those that displayed sympathy towards my situation, somehow left me feeling even more embarrassed than those that outwardly mocked at my lack of masculinity.
Especially when Jane spoke down to me as if I were a small child. Jane Kirkland, my new boss. Jane Kirkland who had seen me grow up. Jane Kirkland who was close friends with my mother. Jane Kirkland who I harbored feelings for, who I'd had a crush on since I was eight years old. Jane Kirkland, who I wanted nothing more than to impress, had seen me in my birthday suit and she didn't care. Instead of an able bodied man, she saw a small child with a little unimpressive flaccid penis. She saw me in my smallest state, it looked like I had nothing but a shrunken earlobe between my legs. She saw it all and she was sympathetic, which of course stung even more.
Furthermore, I learned that I'd be working directly under Eliza. Eliza Smith who'd made my life one miserable hell way back in high school. How, in the 9th grade I asked her out, only to be publicly ridiculed. Laughter followed along with an overwhelming need to publicly belittle me. Yes, she was amused that I 'had the hots for her'. She made it clear that I was not in her league, that I was a different species altogether. This was done in public, with an audience. An audience of her peers who all found it hysterical. Socially, she destroyed me. Following that humiliating incident, I didn't even so much as pursue a woman until I was well into my twenties. After my ordeal the previous week, it certainly felt as though history was repeating itself.
Only this time, I was naked.
I fought hard, with my parents, pleading with them, letting it known that I didn't want to go. I desperately did not want to face those people again. With tears, I begged and begged, alas, my pleas fell on deaf ears. In fact, my father made it clear, 'if you don't go through with this new job, you're out in the street!' and he was serious.
To make a long story short, I conceded.
So, on the Monday morning, I found myself in the passenger seat of my mother's car as she drove me to my new job. I was utterly terrified. So riddled with anxiety and fear that the whole car ride, I said nothing. I just stared blankly out the window as my mother continued to say, "a job is a job... you'll make it work honey..." I wasn't about to tell her the real reason for my apprehension, but I came close. In my mind, I kept replaying the moment where I ejaculated out of my flaccid little penis in front of an audience. I remembered looking back at the crowd with desperate pleading eyes as they proceeded to give me a round of applause, each and every woman looking me over with wide eyed grins, satisfied, mystified and amused. It all felt so cruel. I was taken out of my daze as my mother pulled up to the main gate of Fletcher and Felicity Medical Supplies.
It was 8am. As I gazed over the site, a shiver ran up my spine.
"Have a marvelous day honey. I'll pick you up at 5:30," she said, practically forcing me out of the car.
I hesitated, peering back at her with desperate pleading eyes, "please... don't make me do this," I said softly, "they'll tease me," I said on the verge of tears.
"Now dear..." she began, "block out all the negativity and get on with it," she replied.
I looked on as she tore out of the driveway, watching her Station wagon disappear over the horizon. Slowly I gazed back at the site and with a deep inhale, I proceeded to make my way through the mammoth site towards the main office building. The last time I did this walk, I was naked in full view of the entire staff. Everyone from warehouse store men, to supervisors, to technicians and scientists... everyone saw me in my birthday suit.
Despite the fact I was now dressed, it was still a particularly difficult walk and I struggled to keep my game face on. I felt eyes on me. In fact, most of store men seemed to be staring at me, all with wide eyed bemused smirks. It was clear they all remembered me from the previous week, it was etched into their minds. I could've sworn I even heard a faint 'cat call' from behind me. I shuddered as I did my best to ignore it, powering on towards the main office.
When I eventually made it to the main reception area, I locked eyed with Karen.
Karen, who only three days prior, had her finger up my ass. Karen, who assumed I hadn't reached puberty based on the meager size of my genitals. Karen, who I'm sure assumed I was not only prepubescent, but also permanently flaccid. A sad pathetic excuse of a man. Karen who I'd initially try to intimidate with a false sense of bravado and machismo, saw me broken down and exposed for who I truly was. My exposure was catastrophically devastating to me and as I recall, on that fateful day, her demeanor changed from irritated, to amused, to sympathetic. Sympathy with a mild hint of pity and sorrow. In fact, she shot me a warm grin. It was a sympathetic grin, an attempt to provide comfort and warmth. It was indeed a grin of pity. All it did was make me weak at the knees. To her, I was the furthest thing from a man. It was clear as day and it was sad, very much so.
"Good morning little Timmy," she said softly, calmly. "How was your weekend?" she asked.
All I could do was nod, too perplexed and terrified to say anything in response.
"We're running a little behind so, I'll just get you to sit next to Sara till everything is ready," she said.
I in turn looked over my shoulder, only to notice a porcelain skinned brown haired goddess seated by the main door, dressed in a very conservative bare shoulder grey and black dress. I was so caught up in my own anxieties, I didn't even notice her. This was a woman that was hard to miss. She was incredibly gorgeous and under normal circumstances, I would've tried to engage in idle chit chat. The events of the previous week had stripped me of all of my confidence. Despite this woman being more than a decade younger than me, I felt like a small child in her presence. Somehow, she made me feel weak and when she smiled at me, I almost doubled over.
Anxiously, I approached and sat near her, "hey," she said, "I'm Sara," she added, introducing herself.
"Urm... I'm Timmy," I paused, grimacing before correcting myself, "Tim. I'm Tim," she extended her hand to shake.
