More Fool Me

Forgetting the obvious, perhaps because she had been without all day, Missy parked the motor at home and jogged the short way to the Sainsbury's at the end of the road. As she rounded the corner, a gust of wind caught her off guard and hoisted her skirt well above the danger zone. Suddenly remembering what was missing, she struggled to hold down the errant garment while continuing into the shop.

Thankful for the early onset of darkness in November, Missy tried to carry on as if nothing had happened. She retrieved the tin of Fran's favorite and made for the front of the shop. There was a woman in front of her with a large basket of goods, who hadn't begun to ring out.

"If that's all you've got love, you go on ahead." At the woman's insistence, Missy set the coffee down on the counter.

"You sure you haven't forgotten anything?" The young cashier asked, sniggering and locking her eyes on Missy's bare legs. Suddenly, Missy knew that the girl had seen the incident at the foot of the drive, and she felt her face grow hot with humiliation. Silently, she pushed the tin of coffee forward and shook her head. Never quite losing the smirk on her face, the girl took her money and made change. As she was leaving the girl called out. "Have a good night, Marilyn!"

Fran had travelled back to her flat in Manchester that morning and warned Missy that she would be late arriving back. The place was empty and dark when she entered. Sighing, Missy tossed her coat over the back of a chair and made for the bath. Although Fran refused to give up her place in the city, she had been staying with Missy for months. Missy didn't know how she afforded it on her salary, as she had been chipping in on nearly half of the expenses.

Missy turned on the water for the bath and returned to the bedroom. Stripping out of her clothes, she chuckled over how little there was to take off. What concerned her even more, was the state of her pussy. She had obviously been leaking all day, maybe from the stimulation of the rough fiber of the chair seat, or the humiliation of it all. Christ, the seat must be a mess, she fretted. Shrugging her shoulders, she flipped off the tap and sunk into the hot water.

After the stress of the day had evaporated and the water began to cool, Missy looked down at her long curls. "Fran's going to kill me." She arched up, so her mound was above the water, and pulled out of the ample minge. She had never cut it, or even trimmed it except for around the edges in the summer. As Missy pulled out on the hair, even she was surprised at the length of it. As Missy often thought when she dove into a new hairstyle, it'll grow. It's only hair.

Missy sat on the edge of the loo, scissors in hand and knowing she had no choice, dove right in. The act of cutting away the rampant curls was erotic in itself. Slowly, her pussy grew more visible, until it was only covered in a pelt of closely cropped stubble. "Well that looks hideous." Missy said out loud. Standing and placing one foot on the seat, she reached for the razor that she had set out earlier. Splashing some water on it, found her sliding her fingers through her dampened folds. I can't believe this is getting me off.

The brand-new razor made short work of the remaining hair, leaving her with a totally bald pussy. She tried to remember looking that way as a child but couldn't. She did remember how excited she had been when they first started to grow. Now she was back to square one.

Funny thing was, she simply couldn't keep her hands away from it. Everything felt weird against it, and her silk pajamas were driving her mad as the smooth fabric played against her equally smooth pudendum. Missy barely made it through her tea and had to immediately reach for the freshly shaved mound as she nestled into the sofa, a glass of claret in her hand.

"I have no idea what Fran will think about this, but I wish I'd done it sooner." Missy sighed under her breath, as she slowly ran her fingers up and down her silken lips. Centering her attention on her clitoris, she began methodically circling with her fingers until she tightened with a wave of ecstasy.

She must have dozed off, because she woke to the sound of keys in the door. "Hello?"

"Hey, sweet." Fran leaning down to kiss her. Noticing that Missy's hand was inside her pajama bottoms, she smiled. "What have you been up to in my absence then?" Missy, realizing that her hand still rested against her pussy, quickly pulled it out. Fran grabbed her hand at once and hoisted the still moist fingers to her nose. "You've been playing, you naughty little strumpet."

Missy blushed with the name and pulled her hand back. "I had an itch."

"Yeah, okay. I've had that kind of itch before. It's a whole lot nicer if someone else scratches it for you." Fran sidled into her and went to pull down the flimsy bottoms. Missy didn't resist, thinking that it was foolish to put off the inevitable. "What have you done down here?" Fran asked, sliding the silken pajamas completely off her lover. "You seem to have lost something, my dear."

Missy waited for the anticipated reaction, but it never came. Instead, Fran dipped down between her legs, and began to lap at her pussy. "Oh god, Fran, that feels fantastic."

"I think I could learn to love this on you." Fran said, haltingly, refusing to pause to speak. As her ministrations became more focused, Missy crashed through one orgasm after the next. In her mind was her lover of course, but what did surprise her were the images of her humiliating day that flashed through her mind. In all her life she had never been aroused by embarrassment or humiliation. I guess there's a first for everything.

*

Samantha Roberts relaxed in her sitting room, the image of Missy Phillips's pussy printed, and laying in front of her. Beneath it were the images from the bathroom. She took a sip from her cider and giggled. "I wonder if she'll really do it?"

She tried to imagine Missy, faced with removing something that had obviously been a part of her for so long. Sam doubted it had ever been shaved before. Of course, it was nothing new for Sam. She'd been shaving her fanny for years; the idea of hair down there seemed unsightly now, not to mention unsanitary.

"Jesus, I'm doing her a favor, yeah?" Samantha blurted out, to no one. Maybe whoever is with her will appreciate what I've done to her; if she's with anyone, that is. She stared at the image so hastily taken under Missy's desk in the office. She wondered how bare and exposed she would feel when she asks for the same photo the next day.

"So—, I guess I'll have to assume that Missy will go through with it." Samantha sighed. "I shall have to come up with something even more devious." She slipped her fingers inside her panties and rubbed her smooth pussy, trying to decide what on earth she could do to Missy now. Her mind wandered as she slowly brought herself off. "Something terribly naughty."

Chapter Three

The following morning, Missy had a hard time keeping Fran away from her freshly shaven mound as she readied herself for work. Somehow, she had to find a way to conceal the fact that she wouldn't be wearing any underwear. That was proving more difficult than the day before, as Fran was asleep when she left.

"You really must desist, Fran." Missy balked, as she emerged from the bath, naked and having only ten minutes to dress.

"Oh, fine. Give me a toy to play with, and then snatch it away, no pun intended." Fran mused, finally backing away and giving Missy a little space.

"Can you be a dear and switch the kettle on. I really need a brew to take with me." While Fran set about her task in the kitchen, Missy, for the second day in a row dressed quickly, leaving her knickers in the top draw. Before Fran could return to test her patience any more, Missy quickly flew through the kitchen, forgetting the tea, and laid a quick kiss on Fran's lips. She was out the door before Fran could object.

"You forgot your tea!" But she was speaking to the back of the door. "Somebody's lost the plot." She snapped off the kettle, and retuned to bed, having to be content with self-gratification that morning.

Thank god it's a tad warmer, Missy thought, as her naked and quite hairless sex pressed into the leather upholstery. At least the skirt she was wearing was a bit longer than yesterday's, no apparent requirements for that at least. Even though the red plaid skirt was longer, it wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, conservative.

As Missy pulled into her spot in the car park, she watched as the tree branches danced around in the breeze. As was so often the case, warmer days were generally windy, at least in that part of Derbyshire. She waited, but she couldn't for the life of her, remember why. The wind was relentless, and she feared that all would be revealed long before she reached the relative safety of the entrance.

As luck would have it, the wind did die a bit as she exited her motor, giving her a false sense of security. Her luck ran out just as she approached the tall glass building, which seemed to funnel the wind directed upward. So went her skirt as she reached for the door handle. She felt it long before she knew what had happened.

Just as it had the night before at the Sainsbury's, Missy was revealed in her entirety below the waist. An older gentleman was on his way out at that very moment, obviously not an employee by the way he was dressed. She saw his eyes widen and drift down as she struggled to gain control of her clothing. "Little bit of a breeze this morning, what?" The old toff commented, trying not to smile, but failing miserably.

Missy said nothing, but continued past the man, whole continued to hold door after she had passed, obviously following her down the passage to the lift. She sensed rather than saw his interested gaze.

Once in the lift, Missy tried to put herself together. Whoever thought of placing mirrors on the inside of lifts ought to be knighted or something. She only just had time to run a brush through her disheveled hair and straighten her dress before the doors opened onto her floor.

Horror swept over her face as she pulled out her chair to sit down at her station. The black microfiber had sustained a barrage of hits from the day before and what could only be referred to as pussy tracks marred the center of the seat. There was far too much traffic past her desk to do anything about it just then. At some point she could feign a spill of her brew or something to make right what her arousal had soiled.

In the meantime, the assault on her freshly exposed sex was far more obtuse than the day before. Without the protection of her fringe, the harsh material tickled her clitoris relentlessly. "Bloody hell." Missy sighed under her breath. "I'll be a nutter by the end of it." She did her best to ignore the constant stimulation every time she shifted in the seat.

To top everything off, the damned email icon on her computer popped up, and with it half her wits. Jesus Christ. Give me bloody moment. She began to realize that someone knew she was there, and immediately felt uncomfortable with the notion that she was so closely monitored. I swear to god, they're right in the GD room. Again, the icon pinged. "Sod off, you bloody tosser!" Missy hadn't meant to say it out loud, but she had, garnering the attention of a few eyes including Mrs. Alexander.

"Everything alright, Ms. Phillips?" She asked, haughtily.

"I'm fine. Sorry." Missy hoped that the assurance and apology would be enough.

"Language, Ms. Phillips, please." The well-groomed woman insisted. Missy nodded, as her supervisor moved away to check something more pressing than her outburst.

Opening the email, she was not surprised to see the familiar address. Taking a deep breath, she opened it.

MAPhillips

Subject: Bald?

Are we a little more naked today, than yesterday? I hope you didn't nick yourself.

Photographic proof by ten, and remember, I have even more than before. Each day

your reveal will be more painful, should you fail to obey.

I await your timely reply.

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor

Missy shook her head, knowing that she was in too deep to back out now. She'd be redundant by the end of the day should any of the photos get out.

Ten minutes later found Missy in the ladies', her skirt hoisted up and held by her chin while her phone captured images of her latest humiliation. Silly as it seemed, she took several pictures, allowing her to choose from a variety of angles. After she'd done it, she realized how wet she was and almost allowed herself a little pleasure. That's what got you into this shamble in the first place, you daft cow! Wiping herself thoroughly, she returned to her desk.

Having had a few minutes to grow a brain, she copied the email address onto her phone, so she didn't have to transfer the explicit images onto her computer. Without really knowing why, she attached the lot and sent them off to her 'tormentor'. Hell, he already has me. What's a few more. Assuming her nemesis was a man, she regretted her action almost as soon as she had hit send.

*

Samantha rolled with laughter inside as she opened each image, one more lewd and revealing than the one before it. What the hell is she thinking? Samantha mused, as she perused the images displaying Missy newly shaven sex. I think the little tart is getting off on this. She quickly closed her phone as another employee wandered by.

Well, she seems game for going deeper into this little quagmire she's sinking into, Sam grinned. Let's just if she goes for what I have for her for tomorrow. She opened her email and started to write. Sam really began to wonder just how far she could push Missy. Was there no end to what she would do to avoid the humiliation of exposure?

Of course, Sam would never dream of following through with any of her threats, but she also knew that Missy had no idea who she was or what she might do if she disappointed her. Typing it out on her phone, she grinned ear to ear.

MAPhillips

Subject: Task #3

I have to say it; you don't disappoint, Ms. Phillips. I simply cannot abide you wearing

underwear at work. It's so titillating to know that you're so exposed under those

revealing clothes. Now, you could very well have worn a pant suit today, but you didn't.

I think you are enjoying this little game, judging by the number of pictures you

Sent off to me today. I've taken the liberty of arranging an appointment for you

for six pm. 465 Abbington Mill. I won't tell you what it is, because that would

spoil the surprise. Stay smooth below, and need I say it, no underwear.

Sincerely,

Your Tormentor

Samantha tingled with the power of dominance, as she hit send. She was owning this poor girl, and Missy was now powerless to stop the downward spiral she was caught in. Again, Sam laughed. "Oh, my poor Missy. If you only knew what's in store for you." Sitting back in her chair, Sam breathed in deeply and shook her head.

*

Missy stared blankly at the email on her computer. What could this person possibly want of her now? Wasn't it enough that she'd been humiliated, exposed, and now depilated? The shaving, on the surface seemed a huge invasion of her body, but after the fact, and seeing Fran's reaction, Missy decided that it was not so terribly bad. Fran had even insisted that she keep it that way, at least for a while.

Of course, Mrs. Alexander happened by just as she was cleaning her chair seat and questioned how the stains got there. Saying that she spilled her tea, seemed to quell her boss's curiosity, but Missy was left wondering whether she suspected more was going on.

The newly exposed skin was ridiculously sensitive, and it was a battle to fight off the arousal that seemed to spring up every time she moved. The skirt she was wearing was just long enough to create a barrier between her pussy and the chair, so she was able to rest a little easier.

Everything seemed to be going well, until around three pm. Missy had been among three techs that were needed across the way at the warehouse building. Apparently, a client had purchased a large system, and it was up to her and two others to go over the availability of remote service.

Of course, the trip would require the three to walk across the courtyard that separated the two buildings. Missy knew from experience that the small paved square was notoriously windy. There were picnic tables set up there for the summer but no ever took advantage as their plates or napkins would inevitably go flying.

Feeling completely panicked, Missy was even more horror-struck to discover that Rod Taylor was among the three along with a fellow named Morey whom she barely knew. Insisting that the customer was waiting, they were hustled out of the building by Mrs. Alexander. Missy felt like she was being led to the gallows and could only imagine what lay in store as the wind caught her skirt.

Feigning politeness, the two men ushered Missy in front as they left the building. She knew that their only motive in doing so was to gain a better view of her bum. The first few steps were relatively uneventful, the wind seeming to have died down momentarily. About half-way across the courtyard, Missy made a mistake, letting down her guard and releasing the hem of her skirt, which she had been diligently holding down.

Not a second later, as if the gods had it in for her, a massive gust of wind came roaring through the small square, and she felt the most humiliating rush of cold air against her completely exposed bottom. It was now obvious to the two men behind her that she was naked under her skirt.

"Forget something this morning, love?" Rod chortled, excitedly. Both were laughing uncontrollably by the time they reached the other side of the courtyard.

"Had a little accident earlier?" Was all Missy could say, her face hot with embarrassment.

"Maybe we should buy you some nappies, then?" Morey commented, continuing to laugh under his breath.

"Tea. I spilled my tea." Missy insisted, but the whole thing didn't sound very plausible.

Everything was forgotten while they made their presentation to the new clients, but Missy couldn't help but feel that both Rod and Morey were especially attentive, each time she would speak. Humiliated beyond words, Missy knew that she would never live down the exposure in the courtyard. Soon it would be all over the office as she had no doubt, neither of the two would be able to keep their mouths closed on the subject. Of course, the trip back was entirely uneventful, as if the god of the winds knew that it had performed admirably the first time.

As Missy sat at her desk, she kept reliving the event in her mind; that cold, open sensation as the fabric lifted away from her cheeks, and then the humiliating banter from the two wankers who had insisted she walk in front.

Now, she had to show up at whatever appointment this lecherous bugger had made, totally unsure of what lay ahead. It was almost too much. She quickly rose from her desk and walked briskly to the ladies'. As she had suspected, her pussy was completely soaked and had left a huge wet spot on the hem of her skirt.

How can this be arousing? She asked herself. But indeed, it was. She was shocked at how inflamed her senses were at that moment. Missy reached between her legs and with only a few light strokes, brought herself off. Her breath caught as she came, carefully avoiding the vocal display that inevitably triggered this entire fiasco.

The only way she was going to rid herself of this Tormentor, was to finish off these humiliating tasks, and move on. She only hoped that this person, and she used the word in its loosest sense, would honor their own credo afterwards. At that moment, she resigned herself to completing the tasks, however humiliating they may be.