Cynthia In Wonderland Pt 01

Have you ever had one of those days where you woke up just feeling off?

I'm a little bit light headed but that's not it. There's a sense of being off balance, but I don't wobble and I'm not literally dizzy. I'm definitely not hung over as there's no headache and I can't remember the last time I drank alcohol, never mind drinking enough to have it hurt in the morning.

Yet my body feels out of adjustment, like a teenager who wakes up to find her legs have grown a bit in the night, her shoes no longer fit, or her boobs puffed up a bit.

But when I rub my eyes and sit up in bed, I look across the room at the vanity mirror and I can't see anything off with my appearance. My hair needs brushing, sure, but my eyes don't look puffy or anything like that. Besides, I haven't been a teenager for a few years now.

Can I safely drive to work this morning? I don't want to be a danger on the road. I don't seem to be sick, at least, so there's really no cause to skip out. I just feel odd. I hope it goes away soon.

Blinking to clear my eyes, I slip off the old shirt I wear as pyjamas and slide out of my plain, night-time underwear. I'm not really looking when I pull out a clean pair to cover myself. Something dark blue is in my hand and I put it on. The bra comes next. I think it's the same colour but the light-headedness hits a little harder now that I'm standing, so I don't pay much attention.

I hope this goes away soon because there's a lot of work to do today.

What's that account I'm on? Mason and Mason? The report's all set to go. I mean, it better be since I stayed up almost until midnight getting everything right, but there's always a bit of tension in the morning of a big day. Aaron Gravitz, a partner at the firm and the manager of our section of the office, will expect something properly delivered.

Is that what's gotten into me? The big report?

I shrug it off and go with my best white blouse, black jacket and black skirt. The skirt's a bit looser than I remember. I suppose it's had a few too many trips through the washing machine. I make a mental note to go shopping for a new one when I get the chance. At least it fits and looks acceptable in the mirror.

My eyebrow goes up as I see myself. Is this the right skirt? I look back into the closet. I don't have another that's even close to it in appearance. What am I thinking? That some evil gnome snuck into my closet and switched my skirt with a very slightly different one?

Let's not be stupid. It just got worn out in the wash and I'm noticing it for the first time today.

I realise, as I walk down the stairs, that I've put a thong on. I don't ever remember buying blue thong underwear, but the way it's getting between my cheeks leaves no doubt. I try to ignore it, reminding myself that I don't have time to waste this morning.

My brain glides through breakfast like it doesn't even happen, as I'm busy rehearsing my presentation. A bunch of notifications come up on my phone but I brush them off, including a weird new one with a lock and key that informs me that I'm "Safe and Secure". Good to know, I suppose, even if it's not telling me what it's securing. I swipe it away with the rest.

The fifteen minute drive to work requires concentrating through traffic, and that same slightly-off feeling persists. The sun is a little too bright, the car horns slightly more piercing, the underground parking echoes a bit more than usual.

"Cynthia," I hear a soft voice call out to me as I get in the elevator. "Cyn! Wait up!"

"Merilee," I nod back as she slips in behind me in a blur of blonde hair just before the door closes.

"All set today?" she asks, looking up at me from just under my own height.

"I hope so," I sigh. Out of nowhere, I add, "My butt on the line with Aaron if I'm not."

Merilee laughs as the lift takes us up to the tenth floor.

"I'm sure

Mr. Gravitz

will love your report," she assures me with a smile, emphasising his name as if I'd done something wrong by using his first name. "I'm the one who's always in trouble."

The office feels different too. I notice it the moment the doors open. Unquestionably, it has the same open office, low walled look I've grown accustomed to, but it's as if all the other women are hyperactive and tense, just like me. It had never occurred to me to think that the Mason and Mason account is so big a deal that

everyone

would be hopping like this today, but here we are at nine a.m., all full of energy.

I barely reach my desk when Aaron's door opens.

"Ladies?" he calls out. "Morning meeting."

Aaron does this some days, gathering us to rhyme off our plans for the day whenever we have something big on the line. None of us are surprised that he calls one today.

I'm last in line as we file into his office and form an arc in front of his desk. Aaron sometimes sits behind his desk for these meetings, but this time he's in front of it, in the centre of the little arc the six of us have formed. He leans against his desk and nods.

"Are we all ready, then?" he asks.

"Yes, Mr. Gravitz," the other five women chant in unison.

What the hell?

I wonder.

When did we start calling him by his last name? And when did we all start answering him like a bunch of sycophants? Are we a coterie of 1950s secretaries? The five of them sounded almost like children singing back at a teacher's question.

The light headed feeling comes back, hearing their cute little recitation.

I ' m sure

Mr. Gravitz

will love your report.

That's how Merilee had corrected me this morning in the elevator. Had she really meant it? I look over at her little blonde head next to me, seeing her eyes glowing at Aaron... er, Mr. Gravitz.

"Let's see, then," Aaron says patiently.

I don't know what that phrase means. At the far end of line I see Dana move first, leaning over a bit to reach for the hem of her skirt. I watch in shock as she lifts the front of it clear up over her waist.

I look away with a twitch as I realise that she isn't even wearing underwear.

She's completely shaved, too!

In the periphery of my vision, the other women are reaching for their skirt hems as well, one after the other, following Dana's lead. I turn back to watch in horror as they reveal themselves.

Down the line they go, lifting their skirts to show their underwear or exposed vulvas, and I feel myself losing my grip on my sanity. Am I going to wake up in a moment? Usually, when I realise I'm in a dream or a nightmare, I can bring myself out of it in seconds. The panicked heart rate might go on for a bit, but I can force myself into consciousness.

I do not awaken.

In slow motion, the wave of lifted skirts approaches me. Claire is wearing white panties. Eloise has nothing under her skirt but a bit of hair, neatly trimmed. Georgia has panties on and so does Merilee next to me. Their eyes all turn to me.

What in the hell.

What world have I woken up in, what waking dreamland have I somehow been transported to, that all these people are expecting me to go along with this? Are they all on drugs?

The lightheadedness strikes again and I start to fear for my balance. This can't be happening. But every other woman is standing there with her skirt up, two of them without any underwear on. What else can I do? It feels more embarrassing

not

to contribute.

Just do it,

something inside me demands that I go along with my coworkers.

You think you're special or something?

Mechanically, my face burning red as my muscles move almost of their own volition, I reach down and lift my skirt, exposing that blue pair of underwear I didn't even know I owned.

"Panties?" Aaron chides lightly. "Today? You should have more confidence."

I don't understand what that means, but the other women give half smiles like it's some kind of joke. I smile weakly, standing there exposed. At least the others are like me. That's some consolation. Their laughter is good natured and they're on my side.

"Now," Aaron says, "Ms. Jackson? Are we ready with the catering for the Mason and Mason presentation?"

"Yes, Mr. Gravitz," Georgia says. "The food will be here by 10:30. I'll have everything set up well before they arrive."

Again with the 'Mr. Gravitz'. Nothing feels right. The use of last names, the office, the sunlight, the skirts still lifted. Georgia is just standing there, not even 'flashing' but just openly displaying her black panties to Aaron like it's nothing to deliver a report with a half naked Eloise standing there next to her.

"Ms. Wolversham?" Aaron turns to me.

"Yes, Aa- um. Yes, sir?"

He looks at me with a little tilt of his head.

"You

are

ready for the presentation?" he says.

"Oh, yes," I nod, feeling the quivering fade away as I'm on firmer ground. "It's definitely ready to go."

"Who's helping you?" he asks.

Before I can answer that I don't need any help, thank you very much, Merilee pipes up.

"Me, Mr. Gravitz," Merilee says. She turns to me, "Right? You said Claire and I would greet the Mason brothers?"

I have no idea what's going on, but I'm standing there with my underwear exposed and Merilee seems to know what she's talking about.

"Right," I say with a gulp. "Merilee and Claire."

Claire, down the line, nods and gives me a little curtsy with her already raised skirt.

"Ms. Polski and Ms. DeNovo," Aaron nods. "You'll figure out which of the brothers is which and I expect that to be handled perfectly, yes?"

"Yes, Mr. Gravitz," Claire and Merilee chime back at him.

The meeting goes on for several more minutes and we continue to stand with our skirts raised in this mid-curtsy pose as Aaron covers all of the work he expects accomplished before we leave that evening.

"Alright," Aaron says. "Let's not waste any more time. We've got work to do."

The other girls drop their skirts and, with a sigh of relief, I do the same. I want to just forget this and move on with my day.

I turn to try to leave, but the others are frozen in place and I can't go anywhere. Instead, Aaron moves behind us and stands by the door. Only then do we start filing out.

When Dana reaches the doorway, she pauses and lifts the back of her skirt, sticking her hips out a little to tense the muscles in her entirely bare cheeks. Aaron smacks her on the left cheek, at which point she drops her skirt, gives him a little nod of what looks like appreciation, and walks out into the main office.

One by one, the others follow suit, lifting their skirts to bare their naked or panty clad cheeks, and let Aaron spank them.

"Good morning, Mr. Gravitz," Merilee simpers as she sticks her butt out, right in front of me, to get her spanking.

"Good morning, Ms. Polski," Aaron replies and gives her a good swat. "I expect good work on Mr. Mason this morning."

"Of course, sir," she says, lowering her skirt. "My very best."

It's my turn. Trying to keep my face straight, knowing that I have to go along (do I have to? Really?) I step up to the doorway and lift the back of my skirt.

I prepare for that polite smack on the rear that everyone else got, but Aaron shakes his head instead, expressing a kind of bewilderment as he reaches behind me and gently squeezes my left cheek.

I squeak, but try to muffle it.

"You really do need more confidence, Ms. Wolversham," he says sadly. "When have you ever not done a good job for me?"

His groping hand leaves my flesh, swings back and strikes my cheek. It's not hard, even if it is loud against my bare skin. It doesn't really even sting. It's more like the way you see sports players smack each other in American football or volleyball.

I drop my skirt back in place.

"Yes, Mr. Gravitz," I say, because I have no idea why I should or shouldn't wear panties, or why Dana isn't wearing them and Merilee is, and how Claire and Merilee are going to 'help' with the presentation.

I block out everything else for the morning. Really, we're all very busy and nothing out of the ordinary happens. The only oddness is the sensation of heightened energy in the office, as if we're all strung out with the intrusion of sexuality into the workplace.

Aaron doesn't spank any of us during that time, nor does anyone feel the need to flash their panties or naked bottoms at anyone else. It nearly achieves the feeling of a regular work day except for this odd flush of heart-pounding energy, this lightness in my head, as I make sure everything is ready.

Some of the numbers, to my surprise, look different from how I'd reviewed them last night, but nothing essential has changed and all the recommendations and warnings I remember putting in are still there. Just like everything else, though, the presentation is far enough off to let me know I'm not at home.

As I try to focus on my work, Dana whisks past my desk several times, trying to quickly set up the food and drink in the meeting room. The caterer came through a bit late, but it looks like she'll still make everything up in time.

"Good to go," she says, standing outside the doorway.

"Me, too," I say to her, gathering my papers and walking over.

Aaron is right behind me with his own briefcase.

"All set up, Mr. Gravitz," Dana reports formally.

He looks past her into the room and sees the arc of tables set up around the edge of the room, the chairs on the outside of the arc so everyone can watch my presentation at the front, and the carefully assembled trays of food and drink.

"Looks very nice, Ms. Nelson," he compliments her.

Jarringly, Dana lifts her skirt and sticks her rear out at Aaron. He gives her a polite swat on her cheek, which makes her smile in appreciation before she drops her skirt.

"Good luck," she says quietly to me, takes me by the shoulders and gives me a little peck on the cheek. "I'm sure you'll do us proud."

I half expect her to give me a pat on my butt, but nothing comes forth. I guess women don't do that to each other.

Regarding the presentation, I'm sure she's right. But I start to worry, as I have tried not to over the past two hours, about what

other

presentations might be expected.

I see Merilee coming over and pull her aside.

"What is it?" she whispers. "Don't worry about me. I'll do my bit perfectly."

"I'm worried about

me

," I say.

"What?" Merilee waves me off. "You? You always do fine."

"But, um..."

"What? What is it?"

"I don't remember, exactly, the... rules," I say.

"What rules?" Merilee looks at me curiously.

"When the customers come here," I say. "Do I, you know, have to

show them

anything?"

"Well, the presentation," Merilee says. "Your

report,

right?"

I roll my eyes and sigh with frustration.

"I mean," I say more deliberately. "Do I, you know, lift my skirt up... or... anything like that?"

"Goodness, Cynthia,

no

," Merilee says as if I've asked her the dumbest question in the world. "Your job is the

presentation

. You worry about that. Dana got the food. Claire and I will handle the other end of everything."

"Thanks," I nod, relieved that no one can spring any other weird rituals on me.

"And anyway," Merilee rolls her eyes. "We don't present ourselves to

customers

, for goodness sakes!"

I'm hoping 'present ourselves' means the thing where we all lift our skirts at once. That must be behaviour reserved for Aaron. Or Mr. Gravitz. Or whatever we have to call him. God, this is weird.

The lift alarm dings, letting us know that someone is arriving and we all know it has to be the clients for their presentation.

The Mason brothers, a pair of average height, dark-haired men in their late thirties, come in with a coterie of followers, mostly male with a pair of women in business attire. I wonder how I'm supposed to interact with any of these people. At least the two company leaders are the same men I've always known. Just like the people at the office, I have to assume we all recognise each other.

Just be polite like you normally are and do your presentation. Everything else will just have to be winged.

Merilee and Claire move forward first, approaching the brothers and, very casually, wait for each of them to offer an elbow. Merilee attaches herself to the elder brother's arm and Claire takes the younger.

Some kind of negotiation there, but it's not my problem today. I hope.

I would normally welcome them by their first names, but it's really clear that, wherever I've woken up this morning, we don't do that here.

"Mr. Mason, Mr. Mason?" I say, keeping my voice polite. "Refreshments are waiting in the Tempest meeting room. If you'd care to join me, I'm ready for this quarter's reports."

"Of course, Ms. Wolversham," the older brother smiles. "Always a pleasure."

I wave them into the room ahead of me, trying not to show any surprise at how familiar Merilee and Claire are acting.

Not my problem.

The other members of the guest crew follow on and, by the time I enter, they've taken seats in the arc of chairs around the outside of the room. Claire and Merilee are standing behind the brothers, who have taken central spots in the curve of chairs. As I move to the front, all eyes turn to me and I activate the computer connected to the projector. My presentation springs to life and the lights in the room dim slightly.

Not dim enough, though.

I watch as the elder Mason brother gives Merilee a nod and she kneels down and slides under the table. The tables have no vertical panels. I can see everything from my place at the front of the room. Merilee is unbuckling his belt, his zipper. She is reaching into his pants. Thankfully, her head blocks everything else, but it's clear what she's doing under there.

Claire and I will handle the other end of everything,

Merilee had said.

Goodness.

I start my presentation, showing the previous quarters' numbers and the plan for this quarter just past. The brothers are paying very close attention, even as Claire casually slides under the table and starts fellating the younger brother.

When I reach the numbers for the present quarter, the younger brother raises a polite index finger.

"Sir?"

"The Graves numbers are factored into your calculation?" he asks.

"Yes," I say. "The acquisition happened mid quarter, but it's small enough I could integrate the effect without too much work."

"Excellent," he nods and sits back, giving Claire a little pat on the head.

Focusing on the work is hard, watching Merilee and Claire bobbing away on those two erections. At least I can't see what's really going on, just the backs of their heads. Crouched over as they are, their skirts are riding up, though, so I can see a bit of their crotches.

Why do they wear panties while Eloise and Dana don ' t?

I hadn't even noticed, but Aaron's also getting a blowjob from one of the guests now, although he's mostly watching the oral sex next to him. I think he's making sure that our women are doing a good job. I'm not sure.

I shake myself and get back with the presentation.

What's fantastic is that both Aaron and the Mason brothers are focused on what I'm saying, asking intelligent questions like they always do, despite the circumstances. It's completely normal in this dreamworld, I suppose.

"Once Praxis starts competing in the East District," the elder brother asks. "Where are we on price point, relatively speaking?"

"You've got a five percent advantage due to transportation and supply lines," I explain. "They're probably going to try to take a cut - operate at a loss - but you've got a bit of room. And their customer service does

not

have the reputation we've made sure you have."

"That is huge," the younger brother agrees.