Preeti's Corporate Restructure

After an initial two weeks of turning up for work in modest, conservative attire that Harmony would hopefully deem acceptable, Preeti gave up trying. Harmony got so sick of Preeti trying to act like a 'big girl' that she started confiscating and keeping the outfits she stripped from her.

So Preeti eventually visited a coffee shop near work every morning and changed from her own clothes into her 'Office Girl' attire. Usually the thin t-shirt, short skirt, slip-on platform heels and socks. Harmony insisted that she wear socks in the office instead of tights, citing 'hygiene' as her reason. Initially these 'work socks' were plain blank ankle socks that Preeti specifically chose in a bid to minimize how stupidly juvenile she looked, but Harmony was happy to intervene with her own choices when the Office Girl failed to look sluttily idiotic enough.

During the early days Preeti pouted and sulked in a perpetual bad mood. Barely holding her tongue, Preeti's sullen submission only ever lifted in the presence of an executive. So desperate was she to get out of the company G-string and back into her power suit, Preeti eagerly forced shit eating grins and kissed ass in the hope of gaining favor. It didn't work.

And she was more than capable of testing Harmony's patience. Game playing came naturally to Preeti. Despite the ever-present threat of stepping too far out of line and being reported to Owen or Jessica (the executives who could see her arrested and prosecuted for theft), Preeti knew that Harmony was reluctant to give her own manager's the idea that she couldn't handle the Office Girl's bad behavior herself. As a consequence, Harmony was more than intent on providing a little corrective discipline when Preeti stepped too far out of line.

On one such occasion Preeti bluntly refused to mop up a flooded bathroom when the building janitor (who was paid significantly more than Preeti!) was delayed. Hungover and grouchy after a night of heavy drinking, the petulant woman was in no mood to be mopping up piss in rubber gloves. Unfortunately, Preeti's tantrum of revolt occurred in front of almost everyone in the open plan office on Harmony's floor. The new boss was left with little choice than to make a very public example of the old boss. Preeti clearly needed a reminder of Harmony's determination to dominate and brute strength. The Office Girl had barely begun stamping her little stripper platformed foot when Harmony grabbed her by the back of the neck. In one swift movement Harmony had the squirming woman draped over her knee as she sat on a nearby office chair. Jaws collectively dropped around the office when they saw Preeti Patel gritting her teeth in fury and impotently wiggling across the lap of the department head. The platform mules were immediately kicked from Preeti's socked feet.

As was frequently the case, Harmony had Preeti wearing a pair of white nylon knee socks that stretched up to just beneath her knees. The thin, shiny, slutty schoolgirl socks never failed to get a laugh out of the women in the office and coax erections from many of the men. Not content to spank the bratty Office Girl through her short black pleated skirt, Harmony swiped it away entirely.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Was Preeti's repeated mantra of humiliation.

"You've brought this on yourself you naughty girl!" Harmony said loud enough for all to hear.

"Please don't! I'll do what you say! Please! I'm sorr...-"

SMACK!

Preeti let out an involuntary yelp as the fierce spanking began. Bare from the waist down, with the exception of the hot pink company G-string and the white knee highs, Preeti was powerless as an unstoppable flurry of slaps rendered her big brown ass crimson. All fight was swiftly spanked out of the broken woman, as she eventually lay limp, emitting only a little whine with each whack.

Then before she knew what was happening, Preeti was being painfully dragged towards the flooded bathroom in only her crumpled white t-shirt, G-string and socks. Harmony sadistically led Preeti there by her painfully hoisted up left ear, which meant that the platform bereft Office Girl was forced to walk on tip-toes. As the bathroom in question was at the other end of the floor, Preeti was led on a long walk of shame past the team she'd once managed. Hiccupping sobs, the fill-in cleaning lady instinctively reached with her left hand to alleviate the pressure on her stretched ear lug, while her right hand impotently sought to cover her sore looking red butt cheeks. The G-string was so small that it barely had room for the small company logo on the front panel. With the exception of her landing strip of pubes and pussy, everything was on show. At that moment she'd have done anything to get the skanky pleated skirt back! Multiple phones sought to catch Preeti's humiliation as she was marched to the bathroom and unceremoniously shoved inside. The sobbing woman promptly slipped on the slick tiles and found herself skidding on her bare ass in a sloshing layer of pissy water. Harmony's glaring bulk stood staunchly in the doorway until Preeti picked up the mop and got to work. That was the last time that Preeti ever tested her former underling.

Two months after the demotion and Preeti was pretty much financially destitute. The loft was gone. Her personal credit cards cancelled and her designer clothes and expensive household goods sold on eBay just to pay basic living expenses. She rented a small room in a flat share in a less trendy part of London and even that was almost too expensive on minimum wage.

Ashamed to tell her friends what was going on at work or at home, Preeti became more isolated from her old acquaintances. Drinking, smoking weed and eating cheap unhealthy food took its toll on her body and mind.

Every day after work Preeti wanted only to drink and get high. This only contributed to her ongoing submission at work. All ambition she had once harbored diminished as Preeti slowly turned into a demotivated, bratty stoner. A business executive?! Preeti's only real hope for the future was being able to work a job and actually get paid a living wage while not showing off her chubby ass!

Of course, Preeti's family could've easily alleviated her financial woes, but shame prevented her from contacting them. Mummy and Daddy didn't even know that she was no longer a successful career woman, let alone in serious financial trouble!

Isolated and frequently intoxicated, Preeti became truly immersed into the role in which she'd been forcefully cast. Slowly, the part of moody office slut became a comfortable fit. The stupider and sluttier she behaved the harder it was for her ex-colleagues to mock her. They thrived on her discomfort. They loved to see the beaten and utterly humiliated former high-flyer grin in the face of their cruel antics. Therefore the more distant that Preeti grew from her former self, the less fun it was to demean her.

And then there were the men...

Preeti was fairly experienced, but had always been more of a tease than a passionate lover. She primarily liked the attention. There had been boyfriends and a few one night stands, but nothing serious. She had never truly needed another. Had never been in love. Had never wanted to be reliant on a man. Preeti's career came first. But that all changed as more of her pride was stripped away.

Of an evening and at weekends, Preeti would venture out looking for company. Dressed in some of the last decent (non-designer) clothes she had left, Preeti would head to pubs and bars.

A little chubbier given the cheap comfort food she'd begun to habitually pig-out on and the long ago lapsed gym membership, Preeti had to make the best of her crooked teeth, but at least got to wear her black bob wig. Harmony was intent on not relenting and kept making Preeti keep her hair 'dykey'.

She'd get drunk, stoned and ultimately fucked. She loved the attention more than ever. Loved to be above contempt for once. She loved to be chased. But all resolve to resist had diminished. Preeti never held out...After all, somebody had to buy her drinks.

Sucking cock in dark alleys. Waking up hungover and thoroughly fucked in a stranger's room. Waking up hungover and thoroughly fucked in her own room. Hating the men she woke up with almost as much as she hated herself. Most would make themselves scarce in the cold light of day. One sober look at the snoring Asian pig in slutty knickers bereft of wig and farting in her sleep sent them scarpering.

The worst time was when she accompanied a young coked-up Italian couple back to a sleazy hotel in Kings Cross. They'd all gotten stoned (on her weed!) and then the guy had fucked her, while the girl captured it on her mobile phone. She woke up sick and bewildered to find herself alone in the dirty hotel room missing her bag, her phone, all of her clothes and even her wig! They'd taken everything. All she had on were her the thin white ankle socks that she'd worn with her tight blue jeans and pink suede platform heels. Even her knickers were gone!

This resulted in the police being called by hotel management and it proved unavoidable to keep what had happened from her flat-mates. They could only take so much boozing, smoking and whoring. Not to mention that the clearly 'off the rails' Preeti was behind on her rent...

So Preeti was forced to venture even further down market in search of a dwelling. On a lesser budget and unable to afford a deposit, the shadier parts of London beckoned. She finally found a tiny room in a rundown house-share even further from work. Only one echelon above a crack house, every nook and cranny of the large abode had been converted into a bedroom. Most of the residents were unemployed or worked in the food service industry. And the room was so small that Preeti was forced to sell even more of her stuff. At least nobody cared if she got stoned in her room or brought people home.

It was five months after the demotion when Preeti was invited out on the town by a group of young secretaries. By then she'd stopped changing at the coffee shop near work and would just travel from home in her work uniform. Yes, she got a few strange looks and some unwanted attention, but Preeti found it increasingly hard to give a shit.

So a night out was planned in a series of tacky West End cocktail bars. Preeti really shouldn't have accepted the invite, but some small flicker of hope motivated her to join them. Ostracized for so long, she thought that a night out with 'the girls' could in some way rehabilitate her in the eyes of her co-workers. It was a bad idea.

She wore the last of her decent clothes. A pin-stripe flared trouser suit, a red satin blouse and a pair of black suede platform shoe-boots. An ensemble that she'd hoped to start wearing to attend interviews when her 'Office Girl' contract expired in one month. On her head she wore a red trilby at a jaunty angle. It looked tacky, but cute and would suffice until she could buy a new wig or start growing her hair again.

Unbeknownst to Preeti the bitchy secretaries had only invited her along to further humiliate her. Yet the obvious clues were missed, as Preeti was merry before even arriving at the bar. And when happy hour began and the cocktails began to flow, Preeti regrettably threw all caution to the wind.

"Shall we play truth or dare?" Ventured a particularly vengeful secretary who had once been bullied by Preeti.

The file of photos being shared throughout the company on Monday morning at least served to fill in some of the gaps for Preeti. She'd long ago had her email privileges rescinded, but some caring soul had produced multiple print-outs of the sordid snaps to further humiliate the broken Office Girl.

Bereft of blazer and with untucked blouse, a leering, sweaty Preeti cavorted with a couple of grinning lads on a small dance floor. Hands groped her big booty, while she gratefully accepted a tongue or two into her mouth.

Then she was propped up on a bar. A row of shots before her. Blouse pulled up her sweaty back and rear trouser zip undone. A tiger print black and orange thong visible. Preeti did remember foolishly entering into a drinking game, but only snatches of what followed. The photographs filled in the blanks.

A full body shot showed a stripped Preeti grinning foolishly at the camera. Crooked teeth and perspiring forehead caught in the glare of the flash. An arm and her trilby cheekily covered her tits, but other than that she wore only the tiger thong and her tottering platform ankle boots. Gone was her best suit. Tossed away in a drunken moment of self-destructive madness.

The final shot showed Preeti drunk and slumped over the bar, her big ass resting on a stool. She wore only the tiger print thong and the pair of sweaty little neon pink DKNY socks that had been hidden within her suffocating boots all night. Said socks were thin bright pink nylon with a thick black elastic ankle cuff emblazoned with the letters DKNY. The last of her designer accessories... Preeti's 'friends' were happy to take her clothes and shoes with them when they left her drunk and stripped in the bar.

And that was the state in which Preeti had awoken at seven the following morning. It was just unfortunate that said awakening had occurred within the miserable confines of a Police cell. At some point during her obvious arrest Preeti had been supplied with a white disposable 'onesie', but this had been ripped to shreds and dumped in the toilet by an angry and inebriated Preeti.

Hungover and ashamed, Preeti was unable to decide whether being robbed and left in a sleazy hotel in only her socks was worse than waking up in a cell wearing a tiger print thong and dirty soled neon pink ankle socks.

They released the shamed and emotional woman with a caution for drunk and disorderly behaviour. Thankfully they turned a blind eye to the little baggie of weed that was found hidden in the top of her right sock.

A marked contrast was observed between the stripped, abusive harpy they'd arrested and the meek, apologetic woman who emerged from the cell. Not only had Preeti lost all of her ID, her money, her clothes and her house keys, but she'd also lost her last power suit...The Police felt so sorry for Preeti that they gave her a lift all the way home.

Preeti's last day with the company came only four days before her contract was set to expire. Cowed and defeated after six months of indentured servitude, Preeti looked forward to leaving, signing on for unemployment and never seeing her old colleagues again. The time spent as Office Girl had brought about fundamental changes in Preeti. No longer did she wish to be a high flying executive. Confidence and self-believe in shreds, Preeti had come to the conclusion that she had never been cut out for such lofty heights in the first place. Although it has to be said that her loss of material wealth in conjunction with a steady diet of rubbish men, cheap booze and ambition destroying ganja had also served to tear away all artifice from the fallen woman.

As far as Preeti was concerned the future was all about growing her hair out again, taking some time off on unemployment benefit and working out what she wanted to do with her life...Which at that point was to get stoned and drunk daily...

That last morning she'd tottered around the office doing menial tasks and bitching as former male underlings openly slapped her big ass. Harmony had insisted that Preeti wore something appropriate of her own on her last day. After all, she'd been ordered to return her laundered uniform including the company G-string.

Still somewhat afraid of being double-crossed and arrested, Preeti continued to dress the part. She wore a white nylon body suit coupled with a pair of red juvenile hot-pant dungaree shorts. On her feet were a pair of black platform shoe boots, out of which emerged a pair of slutty red fishnet knee highs. The tacky red net socks were pulled to just below each of her knees. This was the ensemble that Preeti was unexpectedly escorted from the building in just before lunchtime.

Jessica and Owen (at the obvious urging of Robin...) had decided to renege on the deal of which they had set the terms. Instead of being allowed to resign (dis)gracefully, the senior executives had reconsidered and opted to fire her instead. But not before they'd thoroughly humiliated her for the past six months!

The Preeti of old would've no doubt been outraged at such underhand treatment, but former Office Girl Preeti was only thankful that she'd seen the last of the corporate environment that had destroyed her.

She celebrated by drinking herself stupid in the sordid environs of a cheap chain pub. The morning after the night before had been a sign of things to come. She'd come around in the aftermath of a house party on the other side of London to where she lived. People were passed out all around the dark living room. A cripplingly hungover Preeti was slumped on the sofa alongside two sleeping men whose hands were all over her bare body. Her little quiff of black hair was stiff with dried cum and she wore only a frilly little white thong, while the fishnet socks idled around her ankles.

Preeti found her bag, but crept around for five minutes in search of her clothes. Eventually she found the white bodysuit, but was forced to steal a pair of shiny black leggings and a pair of scuffed black flats. The journey home was punishing despite the fact that Preeti was all out of shame.

X

The sound of shitty rap music reverberating through the wall of her closet sized room forcibly dragged a dazed Preeti from her memories of her descent. Only a year ago Preeti had been a prospective executive on the verge of moving to the States and seeing herself financially set up for life. But that was another person. Another life.

Sadly, Preeti more frequently found herself looking back at her time as Office Girl skank with longing. This wretched fantasy said much and more about how far she'd fallen since being fired.

Her days of easy access to credit were over. Preeti had no credit cards and no savings left. All of her unemployment allowance went towards buying fags, booze and weed. Since losing her minimum wage Office Girl job Preeti had been forced to sell off the last of her valuables. All of the designer clothes were sold and pretty much all of the cheaper stylish stuff had also gone.

And then after Preeti's room had been robbed by a visitor to the house, she'd been left with little more than underwear, socks and the clothes on her back. She was forced to buy a whole new budget wardrobe from the cheapest of department stores.

Her iPhone had been replaced by a cheap pay-as-you-go phone and her Apple laptop had gone up on a puff of pungent smoke.

This necessitated Preeti visiting the local library every day to use the internet for free. Staff watched the young woman slowly degenerate. Proud and still with something of a swagger in her step upon joining, Preeti then gradually let herself go.

Stylish slacks, pretty blouses and platform ankle boots gave way to hot pants, garish strappy vest tops and scuffed stilettos coupled purple glittery ankle socks. Her hair grew out wild and untamed while her figure grew increasingly out of shape. She was a significantly larger shadow of the woman who had once worked out at an exclusive gym before work every morning.

She'd worked temporarily at a cosmetics concession in the local mall, but this ate into her drinking and smoking time and it was clear that her new lifestyle wasn't compatible with full time work.

At her lowest ebb Preeti had been to see a Doctor. Depression was diagnosed and the patient was immediately prescribed something to numb her pain. This only really served to further sever Preeti from the person she had once been. But at least a diagnosis of depression got the Job Centre off of her back for a while.