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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Stripping and Humiliation

Power shifts in the office

Old Frobisher was a fool. Everyone knew that. He let those girls get away with murder. But things would get better once he retired. I'd be boss then. Then the girls would get what for. I told them.


"You'll get what for when Old Frobisher retires just you wait and see."


But they just laughed. Well they would see.


It was a small provincial office. Just the six girls, Old Frobisher and me. I was second in command. I had to pretend to agree with Old Frobisher of course. Go along with his damn fool lackadaisical ways, but things would change when I became boss.


I told Monica that. She was the laziest and cheekiest girl there. A blowsy blonde with big tits. Pretty in her own way even if she did have a behind that was two sizes too big. She had a bossy insolent personality did Monica, but she got away with it with it with Old Frobisher by sucking up to him and sticking out her chest.


"There'll be none of that when I'm in charge," I told her, "I'll give you what for then. Just you wait and see."


Eventually Old Frobisher went. And about time too. It was a Miss Beal who came down from head office to give the good news that I was to take over. We all gathered together in the little meeting room. Beal was one of those power dressing women executive types with short hair and a shorter temper. She would need some sucking up to. I stood up.


"Miss Beal..." I started. I got no further.


"Ms...," she said, "Would you wish to be categorised by your marital status?"


"We'll... We... I suppose..."


"Speak up man. Stop wittering"


"No Ms Beal," I said rather lamely.


"I have come here today..." She began again. I hadn't even given her my welcoming speech.


"And most welcome..." I began.


"Did I ask you to speak?"


She fixed me with a gimlet eye.


"Er... No Miss... I mean Ms Beal."


"We'll kindly keep quiet then. I have a busy schedule even if you have time to waste."


I sat down.


"The performance of this office under Mr Frobisher was, to speak frankly, deplorable."


She stopped for effect and looked at each of us individually, as if daring us to contradict her. We didn't.


"Things are going to change."


They certainly were. Those girls were going to get what for and no mistake.


"The new office head will write to me on a weekly basis with a report on the performance of each member of staff. Anyone who has not performed will be out. Do you understand?"


"Yes Ms Beal," I was beginning to like this woman, even if she had been rather rude. I was already composing Monica's report in my head.


"You agree?"


She was looking at me.


"Certainly Miss Beal," a bit of sucking up never hurts, "anyone who isn't up to the mark should be through the door with a boot up their arse"


"An apt metaphor. Arses..." And she emphasised the word, "are on the line." She looked round at everyone again.


"And that brings me to the point of my visit today. The next office head. I may say the board were quite unanimous in their decision. Someone who has given the highest level of service over many years. Your next office head is..."


I felt in my pocket for my acceptance speech. I'm always prepared.


" Monica Blunt."


"But, but..." I couldn't help blurting out, "I thought..."


Beal looked at me with a nasty glint in her eye.


"What? You didn't think you'd get the position did you? After the deplorable way you and Frobisher ran this office?"




"You did, didn't you. Just because you're a man. You thought you'd get the job. Let me tell you, Frobisher might have promoted you because you're a man, but things are going to be different from now on. Come out here."




"Don't you but me. Come out here."


"Yes Miss... I mean Ms Beal."


I crept out to the front like a naughty schoolboy chastised by his form mistress. I felt about six inches high.


"What was your position here? And I use the word 'was' advisably."


"Assistant Head Ms Beal."


"Well, let me tell you, I've looked at your work and well... Perhaps I should demonstrate. Bend over this desk."




"You heard me. Bend over this desk."


I was so cowed by her manner that I did what I was told. I bent over the desk. My bottom facing the giggling girls.


"Your work is sloppy, inadequate, incompetent..," and with each adjective she tapped my behind smartly with a ruler, "and in general, rubbish. And your arse...," with this she gave my bottom an even smarter tap, " the first on the line. Do you understand?"


"Yes Ms Beal."


"What do you understand. Say it out loud for everyone to hear."


"My arse is first on the line Ms Beal."


My face was red, my legs were trembling, I had been completely cowed. Monica was to be my boss. I went home that night determined to hand in my notice. But what good would that do. I'd bought my flat at the height of the boom. It was in hopeless negative equity. Without a job I'd lose everything. And I'd never get another job. Not in the recession.


Anyway dumb blonde Monica would be boss. She was only a little girlie. I could deal with her. Once Beal was out the way I'd put Monica in her place.


If not happy at least I had a plan. Monica was just a girl. She'd never cope. I'd have to take over. I could always make sure she'd fail. But I was in for a shock. When I arrived the next morning Monica was already there. I'd never known Monica be in on time before. And this was a new Monica. The old blowsy blonde had vanished. In her place was a clone of the awful Beal. She was wearing a charcoal grey suit, tight knee length skirt and big shouldered jacket. Her face was lightly made up with a red gash for lips. Her blonde hair was up. She looked at her watch.


"What time do you call this to arrive?" She demanded.


"It's... It's er... ," I was so taken aback I was stammering.


"It's er... what? Speak up man,"


"It"s five past nine Miss, I mean Ms, I mean..."


I was so abashed I was calling her Miss!


"Miss Monica will do fine. Are you not supposed to be here prompt nine?"


"Yes Miss Monica. Sorry Miss Monica, but Mr Frobisher he..."


"Let me make one thing clear. The days of Frobisher are past. I am in charge now. You will be here on time in future. All the other employees managed to get here on time."


I looked round. They were all there. I'd never known such good timekeeping in my life. They must all have been tipped off to catch me out.


"Do you remember what Ms Beal said?"


"Yes Miss Monica."


"Well go on then. What did she say?"


"She said my arse was on the line Miss Monica."


"She said your arse was on the line. You knew your arse was on the line and yet you turn up on my first day in charge late. Do you know what that shows?"


"No Miss Monica," my face was burning and my legs were shaking. I was getting a complete bollocking off the boss in front of all the girls. All my spirit and resistance had collapsed.


"It shows disrespect, that's what it shows. I don't think you learned a thing yesterday. I think you need to learn how to show respect."


"Yes Miss Monica."


"Bend over the desk."




It was one thing being humiliated by the Beal. Surely I couldn't let Monica bully me in the same way. But I couldn't find any way to resist.


"You heard."


I bent over the desk."


"Drop your trousers."


"Please Miss Monica. No!"


I was reduced to begging. Somehow I couldn't summon up any resistance.


"You heard me. Do it"


One of the girls giggled, but I couldn't see any option. I unfastened my trousers and allowed them to drop to the floor. More giggles getting louder and louder.


"Remember girls," said Monica, "this arse," and she tapped my the seat of my tightly stretched underpants with a foot rule, "is on the line. I want any slacking, skulking, skiving reported to me."


"Yes Monica," the giggling girls chorused.


"And just to make myself abundantly clear," I suddenly felt her take hold of my underpants and tug them sharply down to mid-thigh. She'd bared my bottom in front of all the girls and I was so cowed I didn't resist, "this is the arse that is on the line. Take a good look at it. You know what to do."


There was a sudden swish and I felt a sharp stinging across my buttocks. She'd whacked me with the foot rule.


"Now back to work girls."


I could here the girls starting to work but I remained bent over the desk too frightened to move, too aware of my bare bottom on view, feeling the red stripe that must be forming across it.


"We'll, what are you waiting for. Get back to work, or do you want another one?"


"No Miss Monica."


I hastily pulled up my trousers and returned to my desk. It was going to be a long day


"Two skinny lattes and a capuccino. And be quick about it."


My position in the office had changed completely. Monica had made me drop my trousers in front of the girls, Monica had shown them my bare arse, Monica had administered a whack to my bare arse in front of them. And with that I had become the butt of every joke, I had become the office drudge, from bossing the girls at every opportunity I was being made to fetch the coffee. In my bare feet.


And there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't resign. I needed the job. I couldn't complain to management, Beal hated me. And in any case I couldn't admit to having let Monica spank my bare bottom. It would have been too embarrassing.


I had no choice.


"Yes Miss. Straight away Miss," the girls made me call them 'Miss' now. As I said. I had no choice.


I got stares on the bus into work the next day. Travelling in bare feet as I was. Monica had confiscated my shoes and made it clear that I would only get them back if I showed due respect for the rest of the week.


I knew I was being cowardly but I couldn't think what else to do. I had spent all the previous evening plotting, planning my revenge, deciding how to get the better of Monica. But come the morning I had meekly given in. I was going in to work in my bare feet. The trouble was my feet were so sore walking with no shoes on. I only hobbled in to work just in time.


Monica looked pointedly at the time.


"Take the coffee orders," she said, "it's all you're good for, and I'm not sure you're even good for that."


"Yes Miss Monica," I was reduced to office junior.




"Yes Miss."




"Yes Miss."


"Skinny latte no sugar."


"Yes Miss."


The orders came in thick and fast and I tried hard to remember them. Then I had to hobble down to the coffee shop and hobble back carrying a tray of coffees.


"What's this?" Monica was staring at the skinny latte I offered her, "Are you implying I'm fat or something."


"No Miss Monica."


"We'll why else would you bring me this abomination of a drink"


"Liar! You're nothing but a horrible little liar and you're trying to imply I'm fat. I ought to kick your arse all the way round the room for that. Teach you to show some respect to your betters"


"I'm not a liar. I'm not. You did ask for it. And you have got a fat bottom."


The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I was in for it now.


"Drop your trousers"


"Please Miss Monica"


"You heard me. You'll do as I say or you won't like the consequences."


I could hear suppressed giggles from the girls. This was the time if any to stand up to Monica. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. It wasn't even fear of losing my job. Monica had changed. she was dressed today in knee length skirt with calf length high heel boots. She was the personification of the woman in power. She had bared my arse in front of the girls and humiliated me. I couldn't stand up to her after that. My trousers came down.


"Right off. Give them to me."


She was going to confiscate my trousers just as she had my shoes.


"Please Miss Monica."


"Give them to me now."


I gave them to her. Of course I did.


"Bend over."


I did as I was told. She lifted up my shirt and I felt her take hold of my underpants. It was my last chance. I knew it. If I let her pull them down she would have total domination over me. My legs trembled. I tried to pluck up courage to object. I tried to. But it was no good. I felt my underpants come down, over my thighs, past my knees, round my ankles, and completely off. She pulled my shirt up to display me completely nude from the waist down bent over.


"What did I say you deserved?"


"To have my arse kicked round the room Miss Monica."


I knew what was coming, even so her booted foot made such firm and accurate contact with my bare arse that I went sprawling forwards. I tried to get up, but as soon as I did so my arise felt her boot again, and again and again. I was being bare arse kicked round the room and there was nothing I could do about it.


She confiscated my trousers and underpants, of courses she did. I had nothing left to wear but my shirt. I pulled it down as best I could to preserve my modesty, but how can you work properly with no trousers on.


I tried to plan what to do on the bus home, but the driver threw me off because I wasn't wearing trousers. He said he didn't want weirdos on his bus.


I had to walk the three miles home past the jeering kids and staring passers-by. Had they never seen a man walking down the street with no trousers on? No, they probably hadn't.


Monica had made it clear that I would not get my trousers back until I had shown that I could show some respect. I just knew it wouldn't end there. I would have to give up the job or stand up to Monica. I couldn't give up work, I needed the money. There was nothing for it. I would just have to stand up for myself. Then would get the better of Monica. I'd be restored to my proper position. I'd give those girls what-for and no mistake. But next day when I walked into work barefoot, bare legged and bare arsed (except of course I pulled by shirt down so as my arse would be covered) I'd already admitted defeat. I just got into work in time. I made everybody write the coffee orders down this time. I wasn't going to be caught like that again.


Except of course I was, as I should have known I would be. I'd been set up again - Monica or the other girls. As I walked through the door into the office I went arse over tip, my foot catching on a shoe somebody had left lying in the middle of the room. My shoe. The coffee went all over Monica.


Se glowered at me.


"I give you a last chance," she snapped, "a chance to show a bit of respect and this is what you do."


"Please Miss Monica. It was an accident Miss Monica," so much for standing up to her, asserting my position, this was abject grovelling.


"Give me your shirt."


"Please Miss Monica. Not nude Miss Monica. Please."


But this was what she'd been planning for. This was Monica's revenge. Exhibiting me nude to the girls in the office. Little by little she'd asserted her dominance until she had me completely in her power.


"You heard me," she said, "your shirt."


It was my last vestige of clothing. This last little cover of dignity. And it was coming off. I was trembling so much I couldn't move. But I didn't stop Monica as she slowly and theatrically unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. I was completely nude. I couldn't object. What could I say - I came into work with no trousers on and one of the girls took off my shirt. It would sound ridiculous. No. Monica had won. I was nude.


She turned me round to face the girls. Showing my penis to them. It was the ultimate humiliation, being made to show my penis to the girls in the office.


"You'll get your clothes back," said Monica, "when you've learned to show some respect.


The horror of my situation suddenly struck me. Not only was I going to have to work all day in the nude. I was going to have to go home in the nude.



"I will not stand for disrespect from my underlings. Especially from little cry-babies like you. Horrid, you say, you don't know the meaning of the word. I'm going to show you exactly what horrid is."


I was standing at the front of the office getting the biggest dressing down of my life from my new boss Monica. The girls were all agog to see their erstwhile deputy head of department being made to look two inches tall. All the more agog because to drive home his humiliation he had been made to receive his dressing down in the nude.


Yes, Monica had stripped me naked the day before and had now decreed that I was to work in the nude until I learned to show some respect. I had had an eventful journey home. Walking home through the streets of London in the nude is fraught with danger, not the least of which is its dubious legality. Fortunately one of the girls had taken pity on me and lent me her spare pair of knickers. Walking home wearing nothing but a pair of girl's knickers was the height of embarrassment, but at least it wasn't illegal.


So I had vowed that this was the last time that I would get my arse kicked by Monica. I couldn't resign, but I would complain. I'd get Monica sacked, then I'd rule the roost again. I had it all planned. I was in the office early and on the phone to the awful Beal. Even she couldn't condone her protégée stripping one of the company's employees stark naked in front of the whole office could she? I never found the answer to that. I got on to Beal on the phone all right. I told her I had a serious complaint against Monica, but when it came to describing what it was I found I couldn't do it. It was too embarrassing. I just couldn't admit to allowing myself to be stripped naked.


"It's Monica. She's... She's..."


"She's what. Speak up man. Stop blubbering. I can't stand men who blubber on."


"She's been horrid to me..."


It was the best I could do.


"That's her job," said Beal, and put the phone down. At least she put the phone down on me. She then picked it up and told Monica exactly what I'd said. That was why Monica had told me to work in the nude again. That was why I was standing there in the nude. That was why Monica was giving my arse its biggest metaphorical kicking of the week. I was a little cry-baby she said, and little babies didn't wear clothes. I had had no option but to strip naked again. I had tried complaining and I couldn't do it. I was resigned to my fate.


"...I'm going to show you what horrid is. Kneel on the desk."




"Address your superiors respectfully if you want to keep a job here."


"Sorry Miss Monica."




"We'll Miss Monica," it was so embarrassing I could hardly say it, "if I kneel like that I'll be showing my..."


"Just do it."


"Yes Miss Monica."


I knelt on the desk facing away from the girls in the office. I knew what was on display.


"We'll girls. What can you see? Rebecca?"


"Er... An arsehole Miss."


"Exactly. This so-called colleague has been a total arsehole. Now get back to work all of you. That," said Monica turning to me "is being horrid."


I had to go home in girl's knickers again. But salvation seemed to be at hand. When I opened up my home email there was a message there.


"Have heard rumours you worked in the nude today. Is this true? G.Beal."


It was the sort of message Beal would send. She was short and to the point and had obviously sent to my home address to keep it private."


"Yes," I replied, "Monica made me."


"Not acceptable," replied Beal, "Proof?"


"I don't have any. Ask the girls"


"Have done. Deny all knowledge."


They would. My hopes were dashed.


"What should I do?"


"Need to get Monica sacked. Need proof."


Now I understood. The wretched Beal wasn't interested in me being made to strip; she needed a reason to sack Monica. The chance was there. I had to take it.


"How do I get proof?"


"Visit of bigwigs to your office tomorrow. Will tell Monica you are to give presentation. Give presentation in nude. That will be proof."


This was my chance. Monica would be gone. I would rule the roost.


"Will do!"


Only then did it dawn on me that I was going to have to give a presentation to thirty people stark naked. What had I done! I'd committed myself to Beal. She'd kick my arse from here to John O'Groats if I didn't do it. Oh heck!


I was at the office early.


"I see my attempts to get you to show respect are working," said Monica, "here on time for once."


"Yes Miss."


"We'll you'll be glad that today you can keep your clothes on. The big bosses are visiting and we can't have you parading around in front of them in your birthday suit. That would never do. That would get me the sack double quick."


"Absolutely Miss. Thank you Miss."


"Don't thank me. Thank Miss Beal. She has asked for you to give the presentation. Who’s teacher’s pet then?"


"I'll give it," I said, "it'll be a show they'll not forget."


"I hope so," said Monica. Little did she know!


The big bosses arrived about ten. There was Beal of course, looking as sour faced as ever, the sort of woman who looked as if her principal enjoyment in life was kicking men in the balls and then laughing; then there was her boss, a French woman by the name of Simone, the sort that has short black hair, hairy armpits and wears black silk lingerie; and finally there was the biggest boss of all Fanny Wideopen, founder of the company and legendary man eater. All women of course, the company was dominated by women, well you'd expect that with a company that sold knickers wouldn't you.


Simone was head of marketing; her slogan 'You'll always get your man with your Fanny Wideopen' had tripled sales overnight.


There they were the women I was going to have to appear nude in front of. But it would get Monica the sack. Beal would see to that. I would just have to grit my teeth and go through with it. Then I would be boss again and those girls would have to jump?


I'd been so taken up with the prospect of being on Beal's good books and of getting Monica the sack that I hadn't considered the practicalities of how I was going to get nude for the presentation, but Monica provided me with the perfect opportunity. Digging her own grave was how I saw it.


"Wait in my office while they get settled. I'll announce you. I'll give you a knock on the door. Then you can come in and do the presentation. And don't make a mess of it. your arse is on the line with this one, though why she should want you to give the presentation is beyond me."


So the problem was solved. I strip off in Monica's office, march out into the meeting room, Monica is denounced and I'm boss again. There was only one problem. How on earth was I going to pluck up the courage to walk out into a room full of women stark naked.


I stood in Monica's office and listened as the Big Bosses settled in. My mouth was dry, my face was red, my legs were trembling. I was completely nude and I couldn't pluck up the courage to march out. I could hear Monica's voice droning on making the announcement, followed by laughter. I'd never thought of Monica as much of a joke teller, but she'd had other hidden talents.


Then the knock on the door. I was going to have to do it. I realised that now. Beal would roast my arse and I'd be out the door in a flash if I didn't. I gritted my teeth and forced my legs to move. I opened the door and nervously tottered over to the presentation screen and stood there completely nude. I didn’t dare look at the audience. They were howling with laughter. I tried to say something but no words would come out. I just told myself - just a minute or two, Beal will denounce Monica and it will be over.


I looked up at the presentation screen. Instead of my presentation there I was projected on the screen nude, looking like a frightened rabbit, and instead of an indignant Beal denouncing Monica, Monica herself was stepping forward.


"Thank you, thank you ladies. As I explained in my introduction, we in the marketing division are always looking at new ways of persuading people to do things that they don't want to do and I suggested that I could get one of our staff to give presentation in the nude. If I remember you mocked that suggestion. But here he is, naked as nature intended and raring to go."


There was a round of applause, but whether for me or Monica I wasn't sure. What I did know was that I had been tricked, duped and played for the twerp I was. It had been easy enough for Monica to set up an email in the name of Beal and send me those messages. And there I was. Monica had me naked over a barrel as the saying goes, and she had put my arse on the line again. I was going to have to give the presentation or look a fool and lose my job. And I was going to have to give it in the nude.


I gulped and started.


"Good morning ladies," I looked down at my notes, "I hope you're going to enjoy what I'm showing you today...," howls of laughter. Oh no! That didn't sound right at all. "I mean I'm going to show you my big..."


More laughter.


"The bare facts are..."


"The naked truth is..."


I looked at my notes again. Somebody had doctored them so that these wretched double entendre a kept coming out. The audience was loving it. In the end I was just left standing there red faced, knock kneed and dry mouthed. An object of naked derision.


"Thank you," said Simone for that interesting display of well...," she seemed to search for the right words, "...all your talents."


I crept off back to my clothes. Monica had won. Surely I was finished in the company.




"A skinny latte and two doughnuts," Simone looked up at me and smiled.


I smiled back. Monica had done me a favour. Simone had like what she had seen. I had shown her my big one and she approved. My big idea I mean, what did you think I meant? She had taken me on as her secretary.


The job was perfect. I was even getting used to the special dress code. It could be a bit embarrassing when visitors came though.


"Why is your secretary in the nude?" they would ask. Then they would stare.


It was Simone's one stipulation. That and the special service when she ordered doughnuts.


I smiled back. Doughnuts! She wanted servicing.

Submitted: May 29, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Joex. All rights reserved.

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