StripSearch

[Author's Note: I completely revamped this part. Because of that, I will have to rewrite Part 3 completely. It seemed to grow. I still feel there is something missing, like there is more to the story. I hope you like it.]

I sat at my desk trying to focus on the spreadsheet before me. The soft hum of the office filled the air—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, and the occasional murmur of coworkers talking. It was all so mundane, yet I couldn’t shake the tension building in my chest.

I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes scanning the open-plan office. Megan’s desk wasn’t far, and her sly grin made my stomach churn. Ever since the grocery store incident, she’d been relentless, her actions subtle enough to go unnoticed by others but enough to keep me on edge.

“Hey, Julia,” Megan purred behind me, making me jump. I froze as her breath brushed my ear. Slowly, I turned, only to see Megan leaning over to whisper in my ear, a playful smirk on her face.

“Hi, Megan,” I said apprehensively, shifting uncomfortably in my office chair.

Megan’s eyes glinted mischievously as she reached over and placed her hands on my shoulders. She massaged them for a moment before speaking in a low voice, “You’re looking tense. Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” I replied quickly, my voice tight. I turned back to my monitor, hoping Megan would take the hint and leave.

Megan wasn’t so easily deterred. She leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear. Her hands slid down the front of my blouse and caressed my breasts. I covered her hands with my own trying to get her to stop. I could feel my nipples harden from her attention. “Megan! Stop! What are you doing?” my voice trembling.

“You know,” she murmured, “I can help you relax.”

Before I could respond Megan unbuttoned my blouse to my waist opening it and exposing my bare breasts to the office air conditioning.

“Megan! What are you—” A jolt of panic coursed through me and I stiffened, my cheeks flushed as I gripped the armrests of my chair. The cool office air sent goosebumps racing across my exposed chest. Megan’s hands, firm yet teasing, left a trail of fire wherever they moved, making me acutely aware of every touch, every inch of my body on display.

My heart raced as I scanned the open-plan office. Could anyone see this? The soft murmur of voices and the rhythmic click of keyboards surrounded us, oblivious to my growing humiliation.

“Relax, Jules,” Megan said, her voice oozing false sweetness. “You’re making a scene. And we wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re not enjoying yourself, would we?” Megan chuckled softly and straightened up, giving my nipples a pinch and a twist before releasing them. “Lighten up, Jules. It’s just some friendly teasing.”

“Right. At my expense, Megan.” This wasn’t fair. My hands shook as I tried to button my blouse, my every move fumbling under the weight of Megan’s words. No matter how tightly I closed it, her gaze burned through the thin fabric, leaving me more exposed than ever. I closed my blouse again.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Megan said, her tone breezy. “I like you better this way. And I bet everyone else does, too.” Her gaze lingered on my chest, a smirk curling her lips. Megan lingered for a moment longer, her gaze lingering on my chest. “By the way,” she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “It makes it easier to access them and you seem to like the freedom of not wearing a bra. That thin blouse really shows off the color of your nipples.

My cheeks burned as I glanced down. She was right—the thin fabric did nothing to hide the outline of my nipples.

Reaching for my suit jacket, I tried to salvage what was left of my dignity, but Megan snatched it off my chair before I could grab it.

“Nope,” she laughed, tossing the jacket over her shoulder. “No more hiding, Julia. You look much more approachable like this. Embrace it.”

“Megan, please—”

“Say thank you,” she interrupted, her voice suddenly sharp. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Her eyes narrowed, and my stomach dropped.

“Say it, Julia.”

“Th-thank you,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

“Good girl,” Megan cooed, her smirk softening into a triumphant smile. “See you at lunch.” With that, she sauntered away, her heels clicking against the floor.

I watched her go, my face burning with humiliation. The blouse clung to my skin, every brush of fabric against my nipples a cruel reminder of my exposure. I kept my head down for the rest of the morning, hoping no one would notice the flush on my cheeks—or the outline beneath the sheer fabric.

I watched her go, my face burning with embarrassment. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely out of my comfort zone. I kept my head down for the rest of the morning, avoiding Megan and anyone else who might notice my flushed state as I displayed my erect nipples through the thin blouse.

‘Why couldn’t Megan leave me alone?’ My chest felt tight, my breaths shallow, as though the air itself had turned against me. The fabric of my blouse wasn’t enough—nothing felt like enough to shield me from the humiliation that seemed to cling to my skin.

The clock struck noon, and the sound of chairs rolling back and the volume of voices increased as conversations filled the office. One by one, my coworkers left their desks, heading to the cafeteria or out to nearby restaurants for their lunch break. Within minutes, the floor was empty, the only sounds the faint hum of computers and the distant clinking of a vending machine.

I remained at my desk, hoping to catch my breath after the mortifying morning. I brought my lunch bit I wasn’t hungry—my stomach was too knotted with tension—but the brief silence brought me a moment of solace.

That is until Megan’s voice shattered it.

“Jules,” Megan called, her tone light and singsong as she sauntered over. Her heels clicked softly against the carpet, a deliberate reminder of her presence.

I looked up, my pulse quickening. “Yes, Megan?” I asked cautiously.

Megan’s smirk was all the warning I got before Megan reached for my blouse. “Time to strip.”

I recoiled instinctively, clutching at my clothes. “Megan, please!” I whispered urgently, glancing around even though I knew the office was empty. “Someone could come back!”

“They won’t,” Megan said breezily, tugging the blouse from my grasp. “Everyone’s gone for at least an hour. Now, stop fussing. Clothes. Off. Now.”

I hesitated, but the stern look in Megan’s eyes convinced me to comply. My hands trembled as I unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off, handing it over. Next came my skirt, the fabric pooling around my ankles before I stepped out of it. I stood before Megan in nothing but my shoes, my arms instinctively moving to cover myself.

“None of that,” Megan said sharply, swatting my hands away. “Stand properly. You should know this by now.” I obeyed, lowering my hands to my sides, my face burning as I stood completely exposed in the empty office.

“Good girl,” Megan said, her tone dripping with mock approval. She folded my clothes neatly and walked to her desk, opening a drawer and placing them inside. “You can have these back after lunch.”

My heart sank. “Megan, please,” I pleaded softly. “What if someone comes back early?”

“Then you’ll just have to be quick,” Megan replied with a shrug. “Because I’ve got a task for you.”

Julia’s stomach churned. “What… what kind of task?”

Megan’s grin widened. “I want you to go to every cubicle on this floor. Sit in each chair for ten seconds—including the managers’. Then come back to your desk. Simple, right?”
My eyes widened in horror. “Mehan, I can’t—”

“Stop whining,” Megan interrupted, her voice as sharp as the sound of Megan’s hand swatting me on my right butt cheek. “You’re wasting time. And remember, if you don’t do as I say, I’ll make sure your life is more miserable than it is already.”

My breath hitched. “Yes, Megan,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“Good. Now get moving.”

I stepped out of my cubicle, the cool air of the office brushing against my bare skin. I hesitated at the first desk, my cheeks burning as I lowered myself into the chair. The faint creak of the seat beneath me made my heart race, the seconds dragging by as I counted silently in her head.

One… two… three…

By the time I reached the manager’s cubicle, my nerves were frayed. Sitting in Mrs. Daniels’s chair felt like a violation in itself, the leather cool against my bare skin. My hands gripped the armrests tightly as I counted the seconds, my ears straining for any sound of approaching footsteps.

Finally, I returned to my cubicle, my face flushed, my chest heaving, and my juices running down my legs. I couldn’t believe how wet and turned on this task had made me. Megan was waiting, her smirk as triumphant as ever.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Megan said, gesturing to the sandwich on my desk. “Now eat.”

I sat down, grateful for the cover of my desk and chair, and picked at my lunch, my appetite nonexistent. Megan watched me closely, my expression unreadable, until I finished the last bite.

“Good,” Megan said, standing. “Now, up on the desk. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands on your head.”

Julia stared at her, her heart sinking. “Megan, no,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Megan said firmly. “Do it. Now.”

My legs felt like lead as I climbed onto the desk, my cheeks burning as I spread my feet and placed my hands on my head. The position left me completely exposed to the entire floor, my body trembling with humiliation.

“Perfect,” Megan said, circling the desk to admire her work. “Now hold that pose. Let’s see if you can stay still for once.”

I stood frozen, my breath shallow as the minutes ticked by. The empty office felt unbearably silent, every faint noise amplified in my ears.

Then, the sound of distant voices reached them. my heart stopped. “Megan, someone’s coming!” I hissed.

“Good,” Megan said calmly, walking to her desk and retrieving my clothes. “You’ll get these back in a moment. But first, let’s make this interesting.”

The voices grew louder, accompanied by the faint shuffle of footsteps. my entire body tensed as Megan handed her the blouse. “Put it on,” Megan ordered.

Julia fumbled with the buttons, her trembling hands slowing her progress. By the time she reached for her skirt, the voices were just outside the door.

“Move faster,” Megan said with a smirk, holding the skirt out of reach for an agonizing second before finally handing it over.

I pulled on the skirt just as the office door opened, my cheeks burning as I climbed down from the desk. I sat in my chair, my heart pounding as coworkers filed back in, oblivious to what had just happened.

Megan leaned down, her voice a low whisper in my ear. “See? That wasn’t so bad. You’re learning. Told you it would be fun.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My hands clenched in my lap as I stared at my monitor, pretending nothing had happened. But the faint scent of Megan’s perfume lingered, a constant reminder that she wasn’t finished with me yet.

As the end of the workday approached, I glanced at the clock, silently willing the minutes to pass faster. The day had been an exhausting blur, my nerves frayed from constantly watching my surroundings, bracing for Megan’s next move. My chest felt tight, and I desperately needed a moment to myself.

I stood up from my desk, smoothing down my blouse and skirt. They felt like flimsy shields, offering little comfort after the day’s relentless teasing. Megan had spent the entire afternoon sending sly glances my way, her smirk a constant reminder of my vulnerability.

“I just need the restroom,” I muttered under my breath, hoping to escape unnoticed.

But Megan, as always, had a way of appearing at the worst times. “Heading somewhere, Jules?” she called, her tone as playful as ever. I froze, my stomach twisting as she sauntered over to block my path.

“Just… the restroom,” I said quickly, avoiding her gaze.

Megan’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Hmm, I guess I’ll let you go.” She stepped aside, her smirk widening. “Don’t take too long, though. Wouldn’t want anyone to miss you.”

I grabbed my phone and headed toward the bathroom, hoping for a brief reprieve from the day’s tension. But as I stepped out of my cubicle, I felt a sudden tug at the back of my skirt. A soft zip reached my ears before the fabric slid down my legs and pooled around my ankles.

I gasped, instinctively clutching at the hem of my blouse to cover myself. I spun around to find Megan standing there, smirking the zipper tab still in her hand.

“Megan! What are you—” I stammered, my face burning.

“Megan, give that back!” I hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, most of the office seemed preoccupied with their end-of-days tasks.

“Nope.” Megan waved the skirt like a trophy. “Now, off you go. Wouldn’t want to keep the restroom waiting, would you?” With her heart pounding, she turned toward the restroom and started walking.

Halfway there, my worst fear came true. “Julia!” a voice called. I froze in place, forcing a strained smile as my immediate supervisor approached. Mrs. Daniels was a no-nonsense kind of woman, and my stomach churned as I stopped in front of her.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her tone polite but curious.

“Y-yes!” I replied, my voice a little too high-pitched. “Just, um, heading to the restroom.”

Mrs. Daniels frowned slightly but didn’t comment on her lack of a skirt. Her gaze never left my face, though the tension in the air was palpable. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “Don’t take too long. We’ve got that end-of-day report to wrap up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, nodding quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

She gave me a curt nod and walked away, leaving me trembling. I hurried the rest of the way to the restroom, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Inside, I slumped against the wall, taking a deep breath. I’d made it. But as I turned to compose myself, the door swung open, and Megan stepped in, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary.

“Well, well,” Megan teased, leaning against the sink. “How was your chat with Daniels? Bet that was fun.”

“Megan,” I hissed, my voice low but furious. “This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, I think it’s hilarious,” Megan said, sauntering closer. “Talking to your boss while you’re bottomless? Priceless.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “But I think we can make this even better.”

“Megan, please, can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” she said, her smirk as infuriating as ever. She leaned against the sink, crossing her arms. “You know, I’ve been thinking—you’ve been awfully tense today. Maybe you need a little... adjustment.”

Before I could react, Megan’s hands darted forward, ripping open the front of my blouse in a quick motion, buttons flying everywhere. I gasped, trying to pull it closed, but Megan was too quick, slipping the fabric open to fully expose my entire body from head to toe.

“Megan! Stop!” I pleaded, my voice a frantic whisper.

“Relax,” Megan said, her tone almost cheerful. “It’s the end of the day. Everyone’s busy. No one’s going to notice.” She stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Now, off you go. Wouldn’t want to keep your desk waiting.”

I glared at Megan, my cheeks blazing, but I could do nothing. Clutching my open blouse as tightly as I could, I pushed past Megan and left the restroom, my heart racing with every step.

The walk back to my desk felt like an eternity. Every second, I expected someone to look up and notice my state of undress, to comment on my exposed body. My blouse flapped slightly as she walked, barely covering her breasts and leaving her completely vulnerable, my body completely naked except for my shoes and the useless blouse hanging open and off my shoulders.

When I finally reached my desk, I grabbed my skirt from where Megan had draped it over my chair. With trembling hands, I covered my shoulders with what was left of my blouse and jacket before quickly slipping the skirt back on. Only then did I collapse into my chair, my face buried in my hands as I tried to process what had just happened.

With a shaky breath, I straightened my skirt and smoothed down my blouse. Thanks to Megan my blouse no longer had any buttons. The day was almost over. I just had to make it a few more minutes so I sat there closing out my end-of-day tasks. My blouse hanging open I buttoned my jacket and stood to leave.

Before I could leave, Megan stopped me. “Give me the blouse, Julia.”

“What? Megan, please,” I stammered, shocked at her request.

“Take off the blouse. Without buttons, it doesn’t cover much anyway,” Megan reiterated.

I slowly took off my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair. Slowly I removed my blouse and handed it to Megan. As soon as she took it from me she dropped it into my trashcan. She handed me my jacket, “Now, you can put this on.” One thing was certain, Megan wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

I stepped off the elevator onto my floor, glancing nervously up and down the empty hallway. My pulse quickened as I set my purse down and unbuttoned my jacket, the only covering I had on my torso. It had become a daily routine, one I hated but complied with automatically now. With trembling fingers, I removed my jacket, folded it neatly, and placed it atop my purse.

Next came my skirt. The zipper slid down easily, and the fabric pooled at my feet. I stepped out of it, my face burning as I stood in my heels, exposed in the barren hallway. I grabbed my purse and clothes and walked into my apartment, my bare skin prickling at the thought of anyone stepping off the elevator behind her.

The apartment was quiet as I stepped inside, the weight of the day pressing down on my shoulders. I set my belongings on the entryway table and froze, my eyes landing on the collar resting on the table. Its polished surface gleamed under the dim light, an unassuming object that had come to define so much of my life.

My hands trembled as I reached for it. I didn’t need the faint hum of the cameras to remind me there was no choice. With a resigned breath, I clasped the collar around my neck, shivering as the lock clicked into place. The slight pinch of the needles at the base of my neck made me wince—a subtle, ever-present reminder of its control over me.

“Julia,” Master Dominic’s voice filled the room, calm yet commanding. “Take your clothes to your bedroom and return to the living room for your hour of yoga.”

“Yes, Master,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

I gathered my folded clothes, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I carried them to the bedroom. The pile of garments on the dresser seemed smaller every day, a silent reminder of how little I was allowed to wear outside these walls. I dropped my clothes worn that day into the clothes hamper with shaking hands before returning to the living room.

The cameras whirred softly as I entered, their lenses adjusting to follow my every move. My stomach twisted as I unrolled the yoga mat in the center of the room, acutely aware of the way the red lights glowed at me from every corner. I knelt on the mat, my knees sinking into the foam as I waited.

“Begin,” Master Dominic’s voice instructed.

I moved through the poses automatically, my body bending and stretching in ways that still felt foreign despite the weeks of practice. Each pose left me exposed and vulnerable in ways I never would have allowed before. Present, Display—names that made my cheeks burn as much as the positions themselves.

The cameras were a constant presence, amplifying my discomfort. I couldn’t shake the feeling that every movement, every bead of sweat glistening on my skin, was being scrutinized.

As the session ended, I sank into the kneeling position, my body trembling and glistening with sweat. The collar felt heavier than ever, its weight pressing down on me like a physical manifestation of my shame.

“Good work, Julia,” Master Dominic said, his voice softer now. “You may clean yourself and prepare dinner.”

“Yes, Master,” I whispered, rising on shaky legs.

I made my way to the bathroom, the cool tile beneath my feet a small comfort. The hot water of the shower was a welcome relief, washing away the sweat and tension of the session. I leaned my forehead against the tile, letting the steam envelop me.

But even here, I couldn’t escape. The faint hum of the cameras seemed to echo in my mind, their ever-watchful gaze a constant reminder of my reality. My body was mine only in name now, every inch of it laid bare for others to see and judge.

As the water cascaded over me, I closed my eyes, trying to block out the intrusive thoughts. Four years. Just four years. I can survive this. I have to. But deep down, a small, nagging voice whispered that I wasn’t so sure.

Dinner was a simple affair—a hastily prepared meal that I ate in silence, the weight of the day pressing down on me. The quiet of the apartment was almost comforting, a fragile bubble where I could pretend, just for a moment, that my life was still my own.

But that illusion shattered when Master Dominic’s voice returned, smooth and commanding through the speakers. “Julia,” he said, cutting through the silence. “Your progress has been noted, and I’ve decided it’s time for additional support.”

My hands froze mid-scrub, the sponge slipping from my grasp into the soapy water. My pulse quickened. “Support, Master?” I asked cautiously, my voice trembling.

“Yes,” Dominic replied, his tone calm but implacable. “Someone has been called to assist with your training. They’ll arrive first thing in the morning. Be ready to meet them.”

My stomach churned, a cold knot of dread forming. “May I ask who it is, Master?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“That’s not your concern right now,” Dominic said, his firm tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll meet them soon enough. For now, finish your tasks and prepare for bed.”

“Yes, Master,” I murmured, struggling to keep the tremor out of my voice.

The speakers clicked off, leaving a hollow silence in their wake. I stood frozen for a moment, the water dripping from my hands forgotten. My mind raced with possibilities. Who could it be? What would their role in my training entail?

The thought of someone else being involved—someone who would see me like this, vulnerable and exposed—made my chest tighten. I finished washing the dishes mechanically, my thoughts spiraling into a mix of fear and uncertainty.

As I climbed into bed that night, the collar still snug around my neck, I couldn’t stop the questions from circling in my mind. Would they be like Master Dominic—calm and authoritative? Or would they be crueler, harsher? The idea of being judged and controlled by someone new filled me with dread.

I tossed and turned, the weight of the collar pressing against my skin a constant reminder of my situation. When I finally drifted into a fitful sleep, it was with the uneasy knowledge that my life was about to change again.
________________________________________
I stirred as the faint sound of movement reached my ears, pulling me from the shallow depths of sleep. My mind felt sluggish, my thoughts muddled as I blinked in the dimly lit room.

The sound came again—a soft shuffle, unmistakable now. My heart leaped into my throat as my gaze darted to the foot of the bed. A figure stood there, shadowed in the faint glow of the hallway light spilling through the cracked door.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” came a voice, light, and teasing, yet undeniably familiar.

I bolted upright, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My heart raced as the figure came into focus, and I recognized the smirking face before me.

“Megan?” I stammered; my voice thick with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

Before I could fully process what was happening, Megan’s hands yanked the covers off me, leaving me completely exposed. I gasped, instinctively pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around myself, my heart pounding with shock and embarrassment.

“Get up,” Megan ordered, her tone light but with an unmistakable edge of authority. “You’ve got breakfast to make.”

“Megan!” I stammered, my face flushing with heat. “What are you doing in my apartment? How did you even get in here?”

Megan grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the bedpost. Her posture was annoyingly relaxed, as though this were the most natural thing in the world. “Relax, Jules. Your Master invited me. He thought you might need a little extra... guidance. So, here I am.”

Her words made my stomach twist. “Guidance? What does that mean?” I asked cautiously, trying to keep the quaver out of my voice.

Megan waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll get to that. But first—breakfast. I’m starving, and you’ve got work to do.”

“Megan—” I began, my mind racing, but she cut me off with a sharp look.

“Up,” she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. “Now.”

My face burned as I reluctantly slid out of bed, the cool air prickling against my bare skin. Standing naked in front of Megan felt like the ultimate humiliation, her eyes roaming over me unabashedly. I could practically feel her gaze lingering on every inch of me, and my skin prickled under the scrutiny.

Trying to preserve what little dignity I had left, I hurried past her and made my way to the kitchen. The space felt stiflingly small with Megan’s presence looming behind me. As I cracked eggs into a pan, my hands trembled slightly, the task made harder by the heat of her gaze.

“You’ve got a cute little place,” Megan said, her voice casual as she leaned against the counter. “Cozy. Though I imagine it feels a bit different now with all the cameras.” Her words made my stomach churn, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to respond. I focused on the sizzle of eggs in the pan, trying to ignore her smug expression.

“Why are you really here?” I finally mustered the courage to ask, my voice tight with frustration. “What’s going on?”

Megan hopped up onto the counter, swinging her legs playfully. “Like I said, your Master asked me to help with your training. He thought I’d be a good influence.” Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And honestly? I think he’s right.”

My grip tightened around the spatula. “This is insane,” I muttered under my breath.

“Maybe,” Megan said with a shrug. “But it’s happening. You’ve got a contract, Jules. And now I’m part of it.”

Her casual tone made my blood boil. “Megan, it was an accident,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “I wasn’t supposed to sign that contract! I thought it was for yoga.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Megan said, rolling her eyes. “Too late to complain now. You signed it, and you’re stuck with it. Whining about it won’t change anything.”

I stared down at the pan, my appetite evaporating. The weight of her words felt suffocating. “Why did he call you?” I asked softly, the question barely audible.

Megan’s smirk deepened. “Dominic said you needed someone on-site to enforce the rules and keep your training on track. Naturally, I agreed. How could I say no to a setup like this?”

I snapped my head up, glaring at her. “You agreed to this? Megan, why would you do that?”

She leaned forward, her expression gleeful. “Because it’s fun, Jules. Watching you squirm, pushing your boundaries—it’s a blast. And you need me. Dominic even gave me a key to your apartment, so I’ll be here whenever I feel like it. Get used to it.”

Her words landed like a punch to the gut. I had already lost so much control over my life, and now Megan seemed determined to strip away the little I had left. I turned back to the stove, the heat from the pan doing nothing to combat the chill spreading through my chest.

Breakfast was a tense, silent affair. Megan sat at one end of the small table, eating leisurely as though she owned the place. Her relaxed posture only made my stomach churn more.

“Kneel, from now on you eat on the floor,” she finally ordered, gesturing to the floor next to her chair. “And don’t forget—when we’re not at work, you’ll address me as Mistress. Got it?”

The word sent a fresh wave of humiliation through me. “Mistress?” I repeated, my voice incredulous.

“Yes,” she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. “Your Master Dominic gave me authority over you while I’m here. If you don’t like it... tough. Now, say it.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation. “Yes… Mistress,” I muttered, the words barely audible.

“Good girl,” she said with a sly smile, picking up her fork again. “Now, let me explain how this is going to work.”

As she laid out the details of her new role in my life, I felt the walls closing in around me. By the time she finished, my appetite was gone, my stomach a pit of dread. Deep down, I knew Megan was right—there was no point in fighting this. All I could do now was survive.

After breakfast, Megan stood, stretching languidly. “Clean up the kitchen. When you’re done come to the bedroom it’s time to get ready for work, Jules,” she said breezily. “Let’s pick out something more exciting than that boring business suit you wore yesterday.”

After I finished in the kitchen, I followed her to my bedroom, my stomach sinking as she rifled through my closet. She hummed thoughtfully before pulling out a light summer dress. The fabric was so thin and airy I could practically see through it, and the hem barely grazed the tops of my thighs.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, my cheeks flushing.

“Mistress,” Megan corrected sharply, her gaze narrowing. “Try that again.”

I swallowed hard. “You can’t be serious, Mistress.”

Her smirk returned. “Good girl. And yes, I’m very serious. Put it on.”

“It’s too short,” I protested, my voice trembling. “What if someone sees—”

Slap!

Megan’s hand struck my bare ass, making me yelp. “That’s for forgetting to call me Mistress,” Megan said, her tone cool. She delivered another sharp smack, making me wince. “And that’s for complaining.”

My ass cheeks burned with pain and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Mistress,” I mumbled, my voice barely audible, the words scraping against my pride.

“Better,” Megan said, her smirk widening as she gripped my arm and spun me around. Her eyes roamed over the dress critically, like she was inspecting a piece of artwork. “Now stop fussing with it. You’re not supposed to cover yourself anyway, remember?”

My hands twitched at my sides, the urge to pull the hem down almost unbearable. “Yes, Mistress,” I muttered through clenched teeth, the humiliation clawing at my chest.

“Good. Now let’s go. We’re going to be late.” Megan’s tone was breezy, but the weight of her authority pressed down on me all the same.

As we walked toward the door, I couldn’t help but tug at the hem of the dress, trying vainly to cover more of my thighs. The fabric felt too light and too revealing, and every step made me more conscious of how much skin was on display. Megan noticed immediately.

“That’s it,” Megan muttered under her breath, coming to an abrupt stop. She reached into her purse, and my stomach dropped as I saw the glint of metal in her hand. When she pulled out a pair of handcuffs, my pulse quickened with dread.

“Megan—” I started, but her sharp gaze silenced me.

“Hands behind your back,” she ordered, snapping the cuffs open with a flick of her wrist. Her expression was sharp, unyielding.

My mouth opened to protest, but before I could say a word, Megan’s hand came down hard on my rear with a sharp slap. I yelped, my cheeks flushing with both pain and humiliation.

“Mistress,” she barked, her tone like a whip.

“Mistress,” I corrected quickly, tears stinging my eyes. “Please, don’t—”

“Backhands,” Megan interrupted firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated for only a second before my body moved on its own, years of ingrained compliance overpowering my resistance. With trembling hands, I placed them behind my back. The cold metal of the cuffs bit into my wrists as Megan clicked them into place, leaving me completely helpless.

“This is your punishment for fussing with the dress,” Megan said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “A slave accepts her situation without complaint. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, my voice trembling as my face burned with humiliation.

Satisfied, Megan grabbed her purse and opened the door. “Come on, Jules,” she said, her tone almost cheerful. “Let’s not keep the world waiting.”

The hallway felt like a gauntlet as I stepped out, hyperaware of the way my cuffs forced my shoulders back, making my chest push forward. My thin dress rode up slightly with every step, and I bit my lip, praying that no one would step out of their apartment and see me like this.

The elevator ride was suffocatingly silent, Megan’s presence beside me a constant reminder of my vulnerability. As the doors opened to the parking garage, I felt a faint glimmer of relief that we hadn’t encountered anyone. But the relief was short-lived; the ride to work would be its own ordeal.

The ride to work felt like an eternity. I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, my hands cuffed behind me, the thin fabric of my dress riding up with every bump in the road. The cuffs pressed uncomfortably against my back, forcing my shoulders to arch and my chest to push forward, an added layer of discomfort I couldn’t escape.

“Megan, please,” I whispered, glancing nervously at her. “Could you take these off before we go inside?”

Megan let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Be quiet, Jules,” she said dismissively. “This is part of your punishment. And don’t forget—‘Mistress.’”

My cheeks flushed with frustration. “Yes, Mistress,” I muttered, biting back the urge to argue.

We pulled into the parking lot, and Megan finally turned to me with a smirk. “Ready for your big day?” she teased. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped out of the car, walking around to open my door. I shuffled awkwardly, the cuffs making it nearly impossible to move with any grace.

Once inside the office building, Megan finally removed the cuffs just as we approached my desk. I sighed in relief, rubbing my wrists, but my relief was short-lived. Megan’s hands immediately went to the hem of my dress.

“Megan, no—” I started to protest, but her sharp glare silenced me.

“Don’t forget yourself, Jules,” she said coolly. “Hands at your sides.”

Reluctantly, I obeyed, dropping my arms as she lifted the dress, exposing my bare skin to the cool office air. I shivered, both from the chill and the mortifying vulnerability of the moment.

Her fingers grazed my inner thigh, traveling upward. I stiffened, my cheeks burning as she let out a low chuckle. “Oh, it seems someone’s already flustered,” she teased, slipping a single finger between my vaginal lips. I gasped, my body betraying me with an involuntary shiver.

“Mistress, please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Open,” she said, holding up her finger, glistening with evidence of my shame. When I didn’t immediately comply, she grabbed the front of my dress and pulled it up to my armpits, exposing my breasts to the mostly empty office. Her hand found my nipple, pinching it sharply until I yelped.

“Open, slave,” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for defiance.

Tears stung my eyes as I parted my lips, allowing her to slide her finger into my mouth. “Clean it,” she commanded. I obeyed quickly, licking and sucking until she pulled her finger free and wiped it dry on my dress.

She let the fabric fall back into place, her smirk widening. “Try to keep it together today, Jules,” she said with a wink. “We wouldn’t want you getting distracted.”

I sank into my chair, mortified and desperate to escape her gaze. Megan walked away, leaving me to stew in shame as I logged into my computer and tried to lose myself in my work.
________________________________________
The office was quieter than usual during lunch, but not completely deserted. A handful of coworkers remained at their desks, typing away or scrolling through their phones. The muted sound of keyboards clicking and occasional murmurs created an almost oppressive stillness.

I sat stiffly at my desk, hoping for a brief reprieve from Megan’s antics, but her voice broke through the silence.

“Jules,” she called, her tone sweet but dripping with mischief. I looked up to see her leaning casually against the divider of my cubicle, her ever-present smirk firmly in place. My stomach sank. “It’s time for your next task,” she said, motioning for me to stand.

I swallowed hard. “What task, Megan?” I asked cautiously.

“Mistress,” she corrected sharply, her expression darkening. “Try again.”

“What task, Mistress?” I repeated, my cheeks burning as I forced the words out.

“Better,” she said, her smirk returning. “Now, stand up and take that dress off.”

My heart dropped, and I froze in my chair. “Mistress, no—” I began, my voice trembling.

“Now, Julia,” she snapped, cutting me off. Her tone left no room for argument.

Reluctantly, I rose to my feet, my hands shaking as I reached for the hem of my dress. The fabric slid over my head, leaving me completely naked except for my shoes. I instinctively moved to cover myself, but Megan slapped my hands away.

“Hands at your sides,” she commanded.

With a trembling breath, I obeyed, my face burning with shame as the cool office air brushed against my bare skin. Megan took the dress and folded it neatly, tucking it into her desk drawer.

“Here’s the task,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “You’re going to walk around the office—slowly—and touch every cubicle. When you’re done, you can come back here and eat.”

“Mistress, please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “There are people still here.”
“I know,” Megan said, her grin widening. “All the more reason for you to do a good job. Now get moving. And remember—graceful steps. No rushing.”

My legs felt like lead as I stepped out of my cubicle, my entire body trembling with humiliation. I started my trek around the office, each step making me acutely aware of how exposed I was. The sounds of my shoes clicking on the tile floor felt deafening in the otherwise quiet space.

As I reached the first few cubicles, I realized that some coworkers were still seated, their heads snapping up as they noticed me. My stomach churned as their eyes widened in shock, followed quickly by amused smirks or whispered comments.

“This is just a prank,” I stammered, my voice shaking. “I lost a bet.”

The explanation sounded weak even to my own ears, but a few of them chuckled and nodded, accepting it—or pretending to. I prayed they would let me move on without incident.

As I reached Veronica’s cubicle she stood up and stepped in front of me. I heard the other two guys stood up behind me. I couldn’t see them since my attention was on Veronica.

“A prank? Really, Julia? I think it’s more than that. Let’s see.” Veronica stepped closer and shoved her right hand between my legs and I felt a couple of fingers slide between the folds of my pussy. I gasped at the sudden intrusion.

I quickly grabbed the wall of Veronica’s cubicle to steady myself. I closed my eyes and felt two hands grab my breasts. Just as I was getting into the sexual assault on my naked body I heard the click of a camera phone but I was too into a sexual fog.

Between the breast and nipple play and the fingers playing with my wet pussy and clit I was quickly approaching a massive orgasm. I can’t believe that I, a shy introvert, was getting masturbated at work by some of my coworkers and was approaching a massive orgasm.

Suddenly, the world around me was erased as my body spasmed in a full-body orgasm. I don’t know how long I was lost in ecstasy but as I came out of it I noticed John and Eric were holding their phones recording and photographing my humiliation.

Finally, I managed to escape and complete the rest of the circuit around the office. By the time I returned to my cubicle, my entire body was trembling, and my cheeks burned with shame. Megan was waiting, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin.

“Well, look at you,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “You’ve certainly made an impression.”

I didn’t respond, too humiliated to speak as I reached for my dress. Megan’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. “Not so fast,” she said. “You still have lunch to eat.”

With shaking hands, I sat down at my desk, desperately avoiding the curious stares of my coworkers as I picked at my food. The memory of their amused expressions and whispered comments played on a loop in my mind, a constant reminder of my mortifying ordeal.

Megan’s smirk never left her face as she watched me, her presence a suffocating shadow. I knew this was far from over.

An hour later, Megan appeared at my desk, this time with a file folder in hand. She dropped it onto my desk with a loud thud, making me jump. “New assignment,” she said, her voice too chipper for my liking.

I glanced at the folder, then back at her. “What’s this, Mistress?” I asked hesitantly.

“Just a little project to keep you busy,” she replied, her smirk widening. “Open it.”

I opened the folder with trembling hands to find a series of reports riddled with deliberate errors. My stomach sank as I realized how much work it would take to correct them all.

“You’ll have this done by the end of the day,” Megan said, her tone sharp and uncompromising. “And no complaints, Jules. A good worker accepts her tasks without hesitation.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I murmured, my voice barely audible as my cheeks flushed with humiliation.

“Good girl,” Megan said, her smirk widening as she reached out to pat me on the head like a pet. The condescension stung, but I bit my tongue, desperate not to provoke her further. Megan’s voice took on a lighter, almost teasing tone. “Since you’ve already been seen once, you shouldn’t mind being seen again. Take off the dress and hand it to me.”

My heart sank, the air seeming to grow heavier around me. “Please, Mistress. I…” I stammered, my hands gripping the hem of the dress as panic welled up in my chest.

“Now!” Megan snapped, her hand darting out to grab the fabric. “Give me the dress now, or I’ll rip it off you myself, and you can go home naked.”

Her words sent a shiver of dread through me. I couldn’t bear the thought of walking out of the building with nothing, so I quickly stood, my hands trembling as I pulled the dress over my head. The fabric slid away, leaving me exposed to the cool office air. I handed the dress to her, my entire body burning with shame.

“Good girl,” Megan said, her smirk returning. She held the dress up as if inspecting it, then draped it over her arm. “I may give this back to you at the end of the day. But hesitate again, and you’ll leave here naked. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

Her smile widened. “Excellent. Now, get back to work. And remember—stay focused. I’ll be watching.”

I sat there naked and burning with humiliation for a moment before I grabbed the folder and began to work through it. Soon, I was so focused on the file that I forgot I was naked.

By the time the workday ended, I was physically and emotionally drained. My hands ached from typing, and my mind buzzed with exhaustion. As I grabbed my things and headed for the door, Megan fell into step beside me. Megan finally returned my dress and allowed me to get dressed.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook just because the workday’s over,” she said with a grin. “We’ve got plenty to do at home.” I nodded silently, my heart sinking as we made our way to her car.

“Hands,” Megan commanded as we reached the parking lot.

I froze, glancing around nervously. The lot was mostly empty, but the thought of being cuffed again in public made my stomach churn. Still, I obeyed, placing my hands behind my back. The cuffs clicked into place, and Megan gave me a smug look. “See? You’re learning.”

The drive home felt even more humiliating than the morning ride. With my hands bound and the thin dress doing little to cover me, every passing car felt like a potential witness to my shame. Megan, of course, seemed to enjoy every moment, humming along to the radio as though nothing was amiss.
________________________________________
Once we were at the apartment, Megan wasted no time asserting her authority. “Strip,” she commanded, her tone sharp.

I hesitated for only a moment before obeying, my cheeks burning as I peeled off the dress and handed it to her. The air felt cold against my skin, and I shivered as she tossed the dress onto the couch.

“Good girl,” she said, her smirk returning. “Now, we’ve got some new rules to discuss.”

My stomach twisted as I followed her to the living room, the weight of the collar around my neck feeling heavier than ever.

I took up my starting position, kneeling with my knees wide apart, back straight, chest out, hands on my thighs, and head bowed. The collar sat snugly against my neck, a constant reminder of its power. I focused on my breathing, letting the commands from the screen guide me.

I knew the poses by heart now and didn’t need to watch the screen. Instead, I focused on the rhythm of the routine and the subtle praise Master Dominic occasionally offered. “Excellent, Julia,” his voice had said earlier. “Your transitions are becoming more fluid.”

The rare compliment sent me a strange mix of pride and shame. Rarely did the collar shock me anymore, a testament to my progress—or my conditioning.

Several minutes into my routine, just as I was transitioning into the Submission Stretch, I heard a sharp knock at the door. The sound startled me, making my movements falter. My heart immediately started to race.

“Keep going, Julia,” Megan’s voice cut through the tension. “I’ll get the door.”
I froze mid-pose, my head snapping up. “Megan, wait! Please don’t—”

The collar buzzed lightly, a warning from Master Dominic’s system. “Focus on your routine, Julia,” his voice commanded, calm but firm.

I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning as I resumed the pose, my body trembling. The knock came again, louder this time. My mind raced. Who could it be? And why now, of all times?

I heard the door open, followed by Megan’s cheerful voice. “Well, this is a surprise! Come on in.”

I kept my head bowed, but my ears strained to catch every word of the exchange. Footsteps echoed through the entryway, growing closer. The floor beneath my knees felt suddenly colder, more unforgiving.

“Julia’s just in the middle of her yoga practice,” Megan said, her voice dripping with amusement. “But I’m sure she won’t mind a little company.”

My stomach twisted into knots. I felt exposed even before I knew who the visitor was. The air seemed to thicken around me, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.

And then I heard a voice that made my blood run cold. “Julia?” It was unmistakable—Emily. My sister.

I wanted to sink into the floor. With no way out, I reluctantly opened the door wider, the blanket clutched tightly around me. Emily’s eyes widened as she stepped inside, taking in my disheveled appearance and the strange tension in the room.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, her gaze darting from me to Megan, who was now lounging on the couch like she owned the place.

“Oh, nothing,” Megan said, her smile saccharine sweet. “Julia’s just been working through some... lifestyle changes.”

Emily’s brow furrowed as she turned back to me. “Lifestyle changes? What does that mean?”

I scrambled for an explanation, my cheeks burning. “It’s—it’s just a new yoga program,” I blurted out, the words tumbling out faster than I could think. “Very intense. Lots of discipline.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “E-Emily! What are you doing here?” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady.

Emily’s eyes narrowed as she leaned closer to peer through the gap in the door. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”

I shot Megan a pleading look, but she simply grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Emily, you really should sit down. Julia’s been so stressed lately. I’m sure she’d love to catch up.”

Emily hesitated before finally settling onto the couch, her suspicion evident. “Alright, Julia,” she said, crossing her arms. “Start talking. What’s really going on here?”

I opened my mouth, searching for an excuse, but Megan beat me to it. “Why don’t you show her, Jules?” she said, her tone light but firm. “You’ve been making such progress.”

“Julia!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet. “What the hell is this?”

Tears stung my eyes as I tried to explain, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s... part of the program. I signed a contract. The nudity is part of it. It is to help me overcome my shyness. It was difficult at first just being alone in my apartment. When I got used to that I asked Megan to come over so I could experience nudity in front of someone else.”

Emily’s face twisted with disbelief. “A contract? For what? To humiliate yourself?”

Megan stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Julia’s committed to self-improvement,” she said smoothly. “It’s a rigorous process, but she’s doing great. Aren’t you, Jules?” I nodded weakly, unable to meet Emily’s eyes.

“This is insane,” Emily said, her voice rising. “Julia, you don’t have to do this. Whatever this... program is, it’s not normal.”

“She’s free to leave anytime,” Megan said with a shrug, her smirk never faltering. “But contracts have consequences. Isn’t that right, Jules?”

Emily turned to me, her expression a mix of anger and concern. “Julia, is that true?”

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “It’s... complicated. There might be a way Emily. When I first signed up for this program I selected the yoga-only option. Later I went back to read my contract I learned that the same slave contract was used for both options. I was tricked… deceived,” I finally said, my voice trembling. “Maybe a lawyer can get me out of the contract for the deception on the Yoga Monitoring Company.”

Megan’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “Julia knows what’s best for her. Don’t you, Jules?”

I nodded again, the weight of Emily’s gaze crushing me. “Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Emily’s eyes widened further, her shock turning into fury. “Mistress? Julia, this isn’t okay. You need to get out of this—whatever it is.”

Megan chuckled, stepping back. “Emily, I think you’re overreacting. Julia’s just fine. But if you’d like, we can schedule a follow-up visit to show you more of her progress.”

Emily looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Julia, please. Don’t let them do this to you.” Emily shook her head, her frustration evident. “I’m not leaving this alone. We’re going to talk about this later.”

With that, she stormed out, leaving me trembling in the aftermath. Megan’s smirk widened as the door closed. “Well, that was fun,” she said, her tone light. “You handled that well, Jules. We’ll make a proper slave of you yet.”

I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks as Megan walked away, leaving me to process the wreckage of what had just happened. “I don’t want to be a slave. I will beat this program.”

Thank you for the posting all your revisions. So far I have enjoyed both revisions and look forward to chapter 3. Happy New Year.

I really enjoy this revised version. Hope to see part 3 and maybe more after since you are revising? Keep up the amazing work.

The additional context and characters definitely improves the story. I'm looking forward to a revised third installment ... and perhaps more.

Thank you all for your comments and for reading my story. I have plans for more adventures for Julia. I got into another project and completely forgot about revising chapter 3. oops. I will get back to her, but I don't know when.

Interesting to read what you have in mind. Maybe I'll give you some ideas.