Office work

Silke worked in an office once a week. It was a small place. She handled the filing in the back. On Fridays, there was rarely anyone there, and no one ever made it all the way to the intern room. She was actually always alone on Fridays. That’s exactly why Peter thought this would be a small, safe job.

Thursday night’s session was electrifying.

Peter: You deserve a little punishment. For the costume party. Tomorrow I’m going to make you suffer at work. Camera under the table. I want to peek between your legs all morning. I want you naked down there.

Silke got wet, still on the couch, while Jonas sat two meters away watching some clip of naked women.

Silke: How do you see this working?

Peter: You can stream it with your phone, can’t you?

She wasn’t sure if she could pull it off. Technology was Jonas’s thing, not hers. She wanted to try anyway. The time window was limited: nine to twelve. Usually no one was there then. She asked Jonas how to set up a video conference like that. She needed it for work. He said, “It’s best to use a webcam and then connect it.”

Silke thought to herself: Thanks for nothing.

The next morning, she got dressed. A nice, wide denim skirt, light and airy. A blouse. Boots. Underneath, suspenders—no panties. Naked from the waist down under the skirt as soon as she sat down. Nervous. Nothing was supposed to go wrong this time. She was already there at eight.

The intern office smelled of toner and stale coffee. Door closed. The little camera she’d brought from home wasn’t working. She didn’t know how to connect it. Damn, she started to panic a little.

Half past eight. Silke stared at the clock and called IT. The guys were probably working from home. Luckily, someone picked up. A man’s voice, matter-of-fact. She told him about an important video conference in thirty minutes and that her colleague wasn’t there. She needed help. She thought that was a good excuse.

“Where are you?”

“The intern office.”

“Okay. I’ll swing by.”

That wasn’t what she’d wanted, but fine. Five minutes later, he was standing in the doorway, a box under his arm. He had brought a camera—a professional webcam with an LED ring light, a zoom lens, and cables that looked serious.

“Uh. Isn’t that a bit much?”

“No.” He was already setting up the tripod on the desk. “If it’s important, we might as well do it right. Those little webcams just cause problems. Here?”

“Down there would be… well, the angle—” Silke trailed off. “Up here is fine. I’ll take care of the rest.”

He clicked, plugged things in, and spoke into the room while she grew more and more nervous. She wanted to stream for Peter. Not for a conference that didn’t exist. He said she was lucky: A lot of people from IT would be there today—training, cybersecurity, and stuff like that. Silke glanced at the clock. Eight forty.

“Don’t worry. We’ll manage.”

Two minutes later, she saw herself on the video feed.

Up close. Face. Blouse. The LED ring made her eyes too bright.

“Do you have a link for some software?”

“No. I always do it on my phone.”

“That wouldn’t have worked anyway. The network is too unstable. There’s no signal here.” He opened a conferencing tool on the company computer. “You can create a link there.” Click. Copy. “As an example, I’ll send this to an email address. The other person clicks on it—and off you go.”

Silke watched as an invitation landed in some inbox. IT. Example. Her stomach clenched. Five to nine.

“If you need anything, we’re here,” he said, grabbing the box. “You can control the lighting, camera view, and zoom right here. The software is designed for large rooms—the other person can even control the camera. But you won’t need that today.”

She just wanted him to leave. She couldn’t be late.

He left.

The door slammed shut.

Silke took a deep breath and repositioned the camera.

Off the monitor. Under the tabletop. Lens pointing up, toward where her pussy would be. The software could be controlled remotely. Pan. Zoom. It was super easy. Peter would even be able to zoom in closer. She felt a brief thrill at the sharpness with which her pussy would soon appear on his screen. He’d be proud.

No more time for testing.

The session in the conferencing tool was already underway. Silke copied the invitation into the session with trembling fingers.

Silke: “Here’s the link. I have a surprise.”

Send.

The clock jumped to nine.

Her denim skirt was still on. The garter belt underneath. The lens was warm from the LED, even though she’d only just turned the light on. Then a ping. Damn, he was already in the chat. Now she had to hurry. She pulled her skirt off completely. She felt queasy. But it was supposed to be a punishment. He’d written “bare-bottomed.”

Silke sat down, her bare pussy against the cool air beneath the wood, and waited for Peter to respond.

Nothing was supposed to go wrong this time.

That’s why she was trembling.