It seemed to start innocently enough... a misdialed call to my desk was our first contact. The person's name he requested was familiar - turned out to be someone one floor down. He had such a nice voice as was so apologetic I kept talking to him long after we determined what number it was he was trying to reach. He was funny and friendly and before hanging up he teased he would call me back - wrong number and all. It wasn't until after I hung up I realized I didn't even know his name.
So that's how it started.
A few days later he called back 'just to say hello' and commented on the beautiful weather. His voice was deep and had a quality about it that made me wiggle my toes. I chided myself for feeling like a teenager when I heard it. We chitchatted and then he asked, "Thalia, what are you wearing today?"
At first shocked by the question, I started to chuckle. Looking down at my short brown suit skirt and crisp white blouse I answered, "A red silk blouse and black suit pants."
There was a pause before he answered, "I'm surprised at you, I didn't expect you to lie to me. You looked wonderful this morning in brown.... are you still wearing your suit jacket or did you take it off?"
"What!? How did you..."
"Don't lie to me again. You always seem so in control, Thalia, but there is something about you that begs me to take over, take you over. Do not be afraid, I have admired you for a while and I know I can make you happy," his voice had deepened.
I spun around in my chair and looked at the closed door behind me. I knew I didn't recognize the voice, that I would know if I had heard before. The phone trembled slightly and I was totally unnerved but I did not hang up.
"What do you want? Are you some kind of pervert? sicko?" I demanded. "I can defend myself, so consider yourself warned." Throwing in that last bit of bravado, I listened.
He laughed softly, "I think I'm your kind, Thalia, the kind you want. You haven't hung up, and that proves my point to me, to some degree. You have a choice, hang up now and I will never call again, or listen. You have 10 seconds."
"Freak", I thought, "asshole", staring at the phone. I was angry for myself for allowing myself to chat so much to such a person...... but yet strangely excited by his words.
I put my lips to the receiver, ready to blast this jerk before slamming down the phone. I nerved myself to berate him. "I'm here," was all that escaped my lips.
I could almost hear him smile. "You will do as I say, from now on. You will never be harmed my sweet, never pained beyond what you can endure, so put all fears from your mind. I will punish if you disobey. Tomorrow you shall wear that beautiful black suit you have, no stockings, no blouse. No panties, though I suspect you often go without. Just a push-up bra beneath the suit jacket. I'll let you choose your own shoes. Do not disappoint me." With that, he hung up.
My suit? It had been weeks since I'd worn it. Then I finally realized the misdialed call was not misdialed. The next morning I critically stare at myself naked in the mirror. Fresh from the shower, I'm rubbing scented baby oil into my skin, morning ritual. Behind me on my bed lie two outfits, one a simple blouse and skirt, the other, a black suit I made long ago but classic. I look at my face, knowing I am not a beauty but have certain appeal to some men. I am short, smallish build but no matter how low I get my weight I still have hips, curves. I sigh, genetics! Cupping my breasts, I wonder what drew him to me, what made him think he could get away with controlling me.... what made him know. Startled, I realize I'm playing with my nipples. Damn! I have to get dressed.
Turning around I went straight to the black suit. Who was I kidding even thinking I'd wear anything else? The work was torture. I jumped at every ring of the phone and could not concentrate at all. My small cleavage, now prominently presented and my bare legs drew looks which I tried to ignore.
No call came, the bastard! Now convinced this was some stupid joke I was trying to get at least one thing completed before the day ended when one of the mail clerks brought by a plain box.
"Just your name on it, sorry, don't know who delivered it."
He left and I opened the box. Pulling back the tissue paper, I stop, get up and close my door. I walk back, hesitantly, as if it might bite. Beneath the tissue is a note: 'Good girl, tomorrow you choose but this is all I ask.' Underneath the note is a beautiful demi-bra and tiny matching panties. I raise my eyebrow, the bra is even the correct size. Hmmmm, the price of obedience is not bad.
I have to smile, I had been hoping for a phone call from him, or more precisely, wanted a phone call, to hear his voice. Perhaps tomorrow.
My choice, my choice. It was casual day and I was pushing the dress guidelines a bit but I did not care. Over the bra I had pulled on a simple, fitted smooth cotton top and had tied my simple wrap skirt over my hips. Thigh-high stay-up stockings, no garter belt to ruin the line of the skirt over my body. I had scented my skin, simply styled my hair and face. I was ready for his call. My reward came promptly, the phone rang as soon as I was at my desk. "I approve. You look lovely, next time you can go without the panties. Your ass looked beautiful in that skirt." He purred into my ear. "There will be a car waiting for you outside at 4:30 when you finish work."
All common sense out the window, I could feel my nipples crinkle at the thought of a meeting. "No, I can't work on this tonight... I have plans!" I protested.
"Sorry, Thalia, the original report was lost and some data is missing. They need the information tomorrow, the administrator has a flight to Ottawa at 9 am, when it is ready, leave it in the conference room, he has an early morning meeting there and can get it then."