Maria's Justice

I was sat in the break-room the first time I saw him. It amazes me that I can still remember the moment he entered the room so clearly; it's probably anger that keeps it so fresh in my mind, a feeling of hate towards him combined with the knowledge that I can never go back. I dream of returning to that moment and telling myself not to trust him, of the difficulty he created in his stead.

It was an unexceptional first meeting, even despite what I know now. I look for that moment when I should have realised the depths of trouble he'd cause, but have to concede that he hid it well, at first. Celia and I were on lunch: I can picture us both, my mouth full of food, my eyes blinking in disbelief behind my cat-eye glasses as Celia played with her mousey hair and told me about the men she was pursuing.

Our manager, Edith, pushed the door open and led a man into the room.

"Maria, Celia," she motioned at us, "this is William. He'll be taking over the role in shipping." He already had a laminated name-badge around his neck bearing a photograph of his smiling face. It obscured the patterned tie beneath.

Celia had finished her lunch, and she stood up to greet him. I, on the other hand, was still halfway through my sandwich and so I smiled through a mouthful of chicken salad, remaining firmly in my seat. He smiled warmly back with false kindness. As I say, he was hiding his true nature well, and even looked friendly that day with bright blue eyes and even grin. Edith led him out for the rest of his orientation, and Celia turned to me.

"He looks nice," she commented, and I had to agree, "oh, you've got some mayonnaise on your lip." I hurried to wipe it off, and I still remember the pang of embarrassment that the new guy's first memory of me would be tarnished.

In my 22 years I'd never spend much time around boys. While at school, my mother would insist that a boy meet them before I could even kiss him, and that was just as well. On the occasions that they came around she'd immediately known if he was only interested in selfish lust, which unfortunately for me was all of them. I'd gotten this far in life without ever receiving a kiss, but was still certain that soon I'd find a man who'd be willing to treat me and my body with respect.

I returned to work, where the bulk of my day was spent on organising orders and payments of office-supply packages. I'd been with Farborough City Supplier for 4 years, joining straight out of school. What began mainly as unglamorous data-entry work had evolved into equally unglamorous invoicing and order processing.

It was a fine living, and I was thankful for it. I had enough to pay rent on time every month for my little apartment, I could afford a decent wardrobe of clothes off the sales racks, and it meant that I could see my best friend Celia every day. My life, and everything in it, was near perfect before William stepped into it.

A few days had gone by since he turned up, and interaction had been scarce, limited only to brief moments in the break room or if I swooped by to drop something on his desk. My heart would flutter when he'd throw me a smile. Celia would say he was cute and I'd agree, and mean it. The difficulty was my track record with 'cute' boys. I knew what was in a man's heart, and hoped earnestly that I'd meet an exception soon.

William was mostly keeping to himself, but it didn't last. A memo came into my email inbox from Edith in the mid-morning that seemed innocuous: I was to let William know when I had a moment to walk him through a few things. It felt nice to be trusted with training him, but I still burned with embarrassment when I remembered our first meeting. I would need to make sure I looked alright this time.

The office building was anything but modern, with thin wooden walls separating the different departments. The upshot of this was that I had my own little area, so I could get on with my work in peace without anybody distracting me, and nobody was able to see when I did things like maintaining my makeup or checking my phone. I pulled out a pocket mirror and surveyed my appearance, and found that I didn't have any obvious flaws; my face was clean, my long, dark hair was in a high ponytail and my blouse and skirt were ironed, clean and presentable. It was only when I'd confirmed all this that I sent a memo to William, asking if he wanted to come to my desk for training.

He turned up not a minute later, and poked his head past the door.

"Hi Maria, can we get started now?" He asked. I'm loathe to think that I was so ready to invite him in.

I told him to come inside and grab a seat, and loaded up the files we needed to look at. I showed him where I logged incoming orders, how I tracked payment, and a few other important details that were relevant to shipping. Throughout, he was silent, attentively watching as I showed him the ropes.

Or so I thought.

I had loaded up a final spreadsheet to show him when I glanced to my side. William was resting his chin on his hand with his wrist propped up on my desk. From his posture I almost worried I was boring him, but then just for a heartbeat I was sure that I saw his eyes peer at me, or more specifically, at my thighs.

I felt an mixture of feelings: predominantly the shock of being leered at, and the hope that I had misread the situation. There was nothing grippingly interesting about my thighs that day- I was wearing unpatterned dark tights, only slightly translucent. I could have delivered the lesson in my sleep, so I managed to keep talking without a break, but whenever I glanced towards him, there were those eyes, his piercing blue eyes. I never caught him in the act, but just as I thought he might be looking I stopped the lesson, eager to catch him out.

"So that's us done." I turned my head towards him and noticed his eyes took a split-second to look back. Not long, but enough to signal he'd been looking elsewhere. "Any questions?"

"I don't think so. I'll try it all out and come to you if I have anything I need help with." You'd have thought he'd not had a wicked thought in his life, the way he looked at me, smiling like the poster-boy for innocence.

I walked William to the door and shut him out as quickly as I could, keen to organise my thoughts. So much of me was angry that this creep was making me feel uncomfortable in my own office, but the forgiving voice in my mind that said I was wrong, that there was some other explanation.

I sat down, exactly as I had before, and looked down, keen to understand what he would have seen from his vantage. My breasts are rather substantial, and so I flattened them as well as I could in my hands before I had a full view of my thighs and skirt. As I predicted, there wasn't a lot to look at; no rips up my tights, no stains on my skirt, and nothing even remotely eye-catching about the chair below, though my skirt did ride up higher on my thighs when I sat down than I'd have otherwise realised.

I took out my pocket mirror once again and held it at arm's length, positioning it to where William's cold eyes had been just moments before. I reangled it, hoping earnestly that I wouldn't eventually see-

I saw exactly what I'd feared. Beneath the hem of my skirt and under the sheer tights my underwear could be seen from where he'd been sat. In the mirror I could make out their pink colour, light enough to contrast the dark tights and show up visibly beneath. It took a lot of self-control to stop me from throwing the mirror across the room in disgust. I regretted ever considering William attractive. I thought of my mother warning me that men were perverted, lustful beings, and was glad I had seen it for myself in William before he had a chance to try to corrupt me.

I knew that I couldn't allow some stranger to steal a look at the most hidden area of my body, but then again I still wasn't one hundred percent certain that he had done so. I left work for the weekend, hoping to put it out of my mind.

I slept poorly for the next couple of days. I ran errands, saw Celia for a movie, went to a bookstore, and yet all the while my main thought was of William and his beautiful, violating blue eyes. When Monday morning came I spent a long time in front of the wardrobe. Since my first day on the job I'd endeavoured to dress for the part and always made sure to button my blouses to the top, wear skirts that weren't too short, and keep my hair tidy and out the way. I'd also wear tights or pantyhose every day, both for warmth and modesty. It was as I drove to work it occurred to me that I'd not put any on that day. The weather wasn't hot, but it was fair and bright enough that maybe I had subconsciously wanted to keep cool.

The only other explanation I could think of worried and excited me. I couldn't remember if it had been a half-formed dream from my recent restless nights, or a passing thought while I kept myself busy with errands, but I had an image in my mind. I could picture William, brazenly and pervertedly looking up my skirt once more, and I'd catch him, scold him, and make him sorry. If I could lure him into doing it again, I could enact justice as I saw fit: maybe I'd inform Edith how the newest member of the team gets his kicks, or maybe I'd hold onto his transgression using it against him later when it suited me best. In either case, there was a fire inside me that burned to see him punished.

I was usually the first into the office after Edith. As I started my day, something felt off. It was only a small change, but I'd never had my bare legs on show while at work. My thighs are on the thicker side, so I was constantly aware of how they rubbed together as I walked about the office, and I was sure people would stare or mutter. To my surprise over the next few hours nobody noticed, or those that did had no reaction. Then again, a cunning thought arose, I hadn't seen William yet that day.

I sent a memo to William asking if he'd nip into my office when I got a second, and then, using my mirror, I ensured that from the right angle my lacy black underwear could be seen. I was wearing my sexiest pair by chance, though needless to say I was the only person who had ever seen them on.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hi Maria, you wanted me to stop by?" William said, hesitantly stepping into the room. His handsome face was blank. My trap was ready.

"Yes, I remembered something that I didn't show you. It's probably not important but I thought I'd bring it up just in case."

"Well please, go ahead." William positioned himself behind me as I once again showed him some procedures. None were immediately relevant to him but wouldn't hurt to know, and it gave me the perfect chance to catch him probing me with his eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, he was still stood behind me and I was running out of material to show him. From where he was, there was simply no way that he was able to see up my skirt, and he left without an incident. I had my legs and panties on display, there was no way he wouldn't have noticed that, and yet he didn't try to peek at them. My anger started to simmer as I realised that perhaps I had been wrong, that maybe he wasn't the pervert I'd labelled him as. Or maybe he was just being careful not to get caught.

Edith called a general meeting every Monday, a free-for-all session to talk about developments in our departments. I caught up with Celia and sat beside her as I always did. It was my turn to take the minutes and record the matters that were discussed.

Edith announced that it was William's first time attending, and he formally introduced himself. He looked around the room at the smiling faces of my co-workers and I was sure his gaze lingered on me before sitting on the opposite side of the room.

I hastily scribbled notes as the meeting went on. The HR team were proposing we designate more first-aid trained staff, the accounting team were on people's cases about expenses, and it was when Celia began to speak on behalf of the marketing team that I happened to look at William. His face was turned to look at Celia, as were most in the room, but then I noticed a flicker of his eyes. I was mortified as he took a split-second glance between my uncrossed legs.

I knew it! He was the pervert I'd assumed he was. My trap had worked and all I had to do was to call him out.

I didn't, however. Surrounded by this number of people I'd have embarrassed myself more than him if I suddenly accused him of being a peeping tom. His subtle glances made my skin crawl where they landed, and I felt myself get agitated between my legs as I imagined him thinking about my lacy black underwear. I couldn't help but feel that it was intentional that he waited for this moment to strike, ignoring me earlier when I could have told him off. I was so outraged. He needed to be stopped. He needed to-

"Maria? Can you make a note of that?" Celia was looking at me.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat it?" I asked. It was Edith that answered.

"Marketing are doing outreach to older clients, hoping to bring them back in. Pay attention." I was furious that William had now affected my work, but needed to concentrate on the remainder of the meeting, leaving him unchecked to do all the gawking he wanted. I've always heard it said that your ears burn when people talk about you behind your back, and in that meeting I felt a very real burning where I knew he was looking.

I wore tights the next day, and the next, and found that whenever William entered my area to drop something on my desk he did so with a knowing smile, but was in and out quickly. The smug bastard had got what he wanted, clearly, and now he was playing it safe, content that he had come closer than any other man to seeing my most precious area. I bet he loved that he had only to close his eyes and he could replay the memory of his fetishistic staring. I bet he pictured me in just my underwear, or less. I bet he thought about using my body. All I could do was to fixate on the injustice of it all; the worst part being that my body was reacting to all of my anger and shame. I still don't know why but thinking about the matter made me burn between my legs, and the area would react sharply if anything so much as brushed against it, even the soft lace of my panties. It was as if the area was raw, a physiological wound delivered by William's hungry gaze.

He tilted his head and smiled at me as he left, and I smiled back, but deep inside I hated him. I knew what he wanted, knew what he had done, and I knew, finally free of my forgiving naivety, that I needed to make him pay.

I'd need to trap him again, but knew he'd been playing it safe. I had to lure him into making a mistake by any means necessary. It was a Wednesday evening and I found myself scanning William's social media for clues. In each picture his despicable smile and evil blue eyes looked at me, taunting me to beat him.

In one picture he stood beside an ex-girlfriend on the beach, both in swimwear. William had toned arms and a nice torso, and I nearly rolled my eyes thinking of the poor women he'd have drawn in over the years with his terrible charms. I bet he would have been able to scoop them up in his arms, make them feel weightless, throw them onto the bed. I thought about those women and how I wished I could go back and warn them, do my best to help them avoid this monstrous pervert, even taking their place if I had to. Unlike them, I knew what I was dealing with. I looked to his ex.

Tits. Big, round, lightly tanned tits. When I looked at the woman beside William, they were the first thing I noticed, my eyes unintentionally drawn to her deep cleavage; I'd challenge anyone to have looked anywhere else first. I looked her over fully, noting that she wore sunglasses, a baseball cap, and a red and white striped bikini. She was pouting towards the camera as if blowing a kiss, and had one arm around William's waist, whilst one of his was over her shoulder. She had hair similar to mine in length and colour, though hers was left free-flowing over her shoulders while I always wore mine up. Her hourglass figure wasn't too different from mine either, though I was never one to flaunt myself like her. I didn't even own a bikini.

I closed the laptop, and felt a buzz of excitement as I imagined the victorious thrill of when I would finally catch William. It would be all too easy now; it didn't take a genius to detect what might have attracted him to his ex.

I sat in my car outside the office on Thursday morning fiddling with the buttons of my pastel green blouse. With two undone I looked professional, three was enough to tease my sizable bust, four was more than a tease; it was an eyeful. With four buttons undone I could see a healthy amount of cleavage, but the lacy white trim of my bra was also exposed. Ideally, I'd have somewhere between three and four buttons open since I was looking to catch William but hardly wanted to feel naked in front of the rest of my colleagues. I settled on three, spurred by the hunch that a depraved man like William would react to even the slightest provocation.

I sat down lonely at my desk but made sure to poke my head out my area over the next hour so that I could watch the building fill with my co-workers. William left me waiting, arriving late, but the anticipation was such that my skin flushed on sight of him, leaving me to retreat into my corner for a while. I couldn't let my new adversary affect my work, so I hurried my way through my morning duties, answering emails and logging data. An hour later, I had a surprising knock on the door.

"Morning Maria," William said as he entered. I felt a shiver up my spine as he said my name, treating each syllable as a puzzle to gradually be pieced together. I couldn't help but feel his lust, as if even knowledge of my name was a shameful secret he had pried from me.

"Hi," I squeaked, hoping to sound casual.

"We're all signing a birthday card for Edith, I just wanted to bring it through to you." He came towards the desk, and my body tensed up. I imagine it was probably adrenaline, a result of the shock from seeing a man I hate burst his way into my office. He placed the envelope directly in front of me, and lingered.

"Are you alright, Maria?" He studied my face. I realised I was holding my breath.

"Yes, just a little under the weather," I lied.

"Oh," he retreated, and stepped towards the door. "If it's any consolation, you look... healthy." He shut the door behind him as he left, and I finally exhaled a long sigh of frustration.

Healthy. His meaning couldn't have been clearer. I undo a few buttons, and suddenly I'm 'healthy'? A man like him wasn't concerned with my health. He wanted me to know he'd noticed my change in wardrobe, but knew he was under too much scrutiny to say it transparently. He was testing me, letting me know that he wouldn't be caught out so easily.

I would have to do more to keep up with him. I signed my name on Edith's card, undid my ponytail and popped open another button on my blouse. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I walked across the main office floor, the card in my hand, and delivered it directly onto William's desk. He looked at me for only a second before his eyes widened in surprise. He clearly hadn't anticipated me being one step ahead of him.

"I thought I'd bring this back, I'm not sure who still needs to sign," I purred. One of my hands was placed on his desk, and I was bent towards him, letting my blouse fall open even more to reveal the white bra beneath.

"Thanks," was all he could say. The task of maintaining eye contact was very obviously a burden. This was it; any second he was going to gawp at my boobs and I was ready to snatch my shirt closed, call him a pervert and finally deliver payback.

"I- I'm fairly certain most of the others have had it," he said, "except for..." he turned away from me to survey the office, "marketing!"