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Into the Maelstrom: Part VI

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Feeling dazed and full of misgivings, Carolyn drove to her firm?s offices. She knew that she was hardly dressed for work, let alone anything else for that matter. But, she realized that Tamiko was (once again) correct. She was so late, and the day so important, that there was nothing for it but to carry on as she was and hope she wouldn?t embarrass herself or the firm before Tamiko arrived with her clothes.

Terribly distracted, she almost had three accidents before she learned to sit on the very edge of the car seat. It was the only way she could relieve the maddening pressure that extra cloth (or whatever it was that Tamiko had accidentally placed in the crotch of her slacks) was causing. She was also acutely conscious of her firm breasts? movement within her jacket, the rubbing nipples sending constant pinwheels of sensations through her already overheated brain whenever she moved.

She had never felt so exhausted, so completely used before now. And yet, and yet? Strange as it seemed, deep down she had never felt so at peace with herself.

It was ridiculous. After one wild party that she couldn't even really remember, and a surprising (if rather pleasant, now that she thought about it) morning spent with her new special friend, Carolyn felt like an entirely different woman. More complete, somehow.

Ok, Ok, she thought. She knew what she did with Tamiko

this morning was terribly, terribly wrong, and that she would now probably burn in Hell forever for it (thanks a lot, God!). But, why, oh why, did it have to feel so good to be with her like that?

She desperately wanted time to work out all of these strange new thoughts and impressions, but realized that it wasn't going to be possible for a while. Perhaps after work, before she got together with Tamiko this evening. At her apartment she could finally get out of this damned suit that was driving her crazy, and into some less-stimulating clothes. Then, following a very long nap, she would be able to think clearly again.

So busy was she with her thoughts that she didn't even realized she had already parked in the building's basement garage.

Sighing, she looked about the mostly deserted garage.

She saw that only that section of the place belonging to her law firm was occupied.

"Better get a move on," she said, as she gathered her brief case from the trunk.

"Looks like I'm the last to arrive, damn it!" she said with feeling after surveying the parking lot one last time.

She proceeded to walk carefully yet swiftly to the building's main lobby, trying to keep her annoying breast movements to a minimum.

Carolyn confidently stepped into the elevator from the (thankfully) deserted building's lobby, only 60 minutes late. In the elevator, she pushed the button for the top floor and the elevator silently began its long journey to the 30th floor. As usual, she carefully reviewed her reflection in the polished metal doors and her confidence quickly began to evaporate.

"Oh, my God!" she muttered. "What could I have been thinking?"

Tamiko had made everything sound so natural and realistic this morning. All she had to do was go to work and Tamiko would bring in her missing clothes. The apartment laundry service was very fast, she had said.

Her things would be done in just a few hours. Long before her important conference. Long before anyone would even notice the difference.

Like hell they wouldn't!

Carolyn watched her reflection with a sick fascination. For a moment all she could think was: They would know, they would know, they would know.

She never wore the same outfit two days in a row.

Worse, it was in fact considerably less than the same outfit, and it showed.

The deeply cut jacket, which usually showed her starched, high-neck blouses to advantage, was now showing just her! Coming here without blouse and bra was insane.

It was painfully obvious to anyone who cared to look that she was quite naked under her suit jacket. And the dress codes at the firm were very strict. She should know, since the codes were her idea.

Carolyn grimly acknowledged the fact that until her best and possibly only friend showed up, she would have to be especially careful, less she inadvertently expose herself in the office.

The fact that she was also without panties and even hose today didn't worry her, as there was no way anyone was going to know about that.

If only she hadn't been so late getting here, she thought. She would have had time to return to her apartment first and all would have been well. She never slept over at anyone's place, in spite of the many invitations she had received in the past to do so. What happened to her last night that she couldn't even go home?

She simply did not have an answer.

However, tired as she was, she did remember vividly what had happened with Tamiko on the living room couch

this morning! Wow! She blushed at the thought of Tamiko and her, both naked on the couch.

It was a good thing no one saw us, she thought. Even something innocent like Tamiko comforting her might start people talking.

I know, I know, she thought. I'll probably burn for it. I know.

If only thinking wasn't so damn difficult this morning. Her head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and there was this weird headache behind her left eye. If she didn't know better, she would swear she had a hangover. But Tamiko had assured her repeatedly about there being no alcohol in what she was drinking last night. Must be an allergic reaction to something, she reasoned.

Maybe that would also explain why her body felt so different this morning. It was alive! It was positively tingling with sensations. Her skin felt like it was glowing. Her unencumbered breasts, ceaselessly moving when she walked, caused the constantly erect nipples to graze the lining of the jacket and send some very non-

working professional-type signals to her nervous system.

Her pubic area, in almost constant contact with something in the crotch seam, was feeling very wet. She would have to find a restroom soon to dry herself off, or she seriously risked staining her slacks.

Looking at her reflection, Carolyn realized that she could do something about the slacks right then. If she wore them much, much lower on her hips, her poor crotch would be free of this inadvertent yet constant stimulation.

Placing her briefcase on the floor beside her, Carolyn reached under the front of her jacket and opened the front of her slacks. She slid down the waistband until she was sure the naughty material couldn't bother her

anymore.

She lifted up her jacket to see how much skin she would be showing. Oh, my! she thought, laughing. I look like a belly dancer!

She stood there, wondering if her still opened slacks were not a bit too low when the elevator doors unexpectedly began to open.

"Shit!" she cried. The elevator had stopped at a lower floor and she hadn't even noticed!

Carolyn just had time to re-fasten her waistband and try to assume a casual look when the doors completely opened to reveal a young, pimply-faced man wearing a messenger uniform.

"Is this elevator going down?" he inquired.

"No, it is going up!" snapped Carolyn, ashamed of herself for almost being caught undressed by this young idiot.

"Oh. Guess I'll wait then," he replied good naturally, and then stood in front of the opened doors, watching her.

As the doors finally closed, Carolyn saw his eyes drop and then enlarge into perfect circles. The last thing Carolyn remembered about him was his jaw dropping open.

"Now what," she grumbled as she looked into the mirrored surface of the doors.

"Oh, God!"

Carolyn saw that she had caught part of her jacket front in the waistband of her slacks, which revealed perfectly the fact that her zipper was down. It also revealed the fact that her pubic area was totally exposed!

"I'm going home," she said as she straightened her jacket and zipped up her slacks. "I just can't do this."

The elevator finally stopped at her floor.

Perhaps the doors will not open this time, Carolyn thought hopefully. And if they do, I'll just stand here in a back corner where no one can see me. Then, to home and bed.

In her agitation at being caught, she forgot about the door-close button.

The doors quietly slid open and Carolyn knew that she had immediately been spotted by the firm's receptionist, Mrs. Johnson, who was seated at her desk located directly in front of the elevators across the room.

"Hi, Carolyn. Everyone's been looking for you."

"Thanks," Carolyn said. It's not fair, she wailed to herself as she weakly waved a hand in greeting. She picked up her briefcase and wearily trudged toward the reception desk.

I'm trapped now, she thought, resigned to her fate.

All I can do now is prepare for the meeting, and pretend to everyone that nothing is wrong with me today.

Her confidence of the morning had completely disappeared. The episode in the elevator had left her feeling strangely defeated, as if she was to meet an important challenge today and had already lost.

As usual, it's my own fault, she thought, as she walked past the desk. Maybe all I should do is just accept my fate. She felt too tired now to do much of anything else.

"Could you help me a moment. I need that phone directory in the red binder on the top shelf and I can't leave the desk."

"Sure, no problem," Carolyn mumbled. The lazy bitch, why can't she get it herself, she wondered. But, she put her case down and went over the tall set of shelves set into the wall. By stretching, she was barely able to reach the directory.

Mrs. Johnson's eye's flashed when Carolyn's jacket pulled up, revealing her bare midriff and the top of her very low-riding slacks. Just as she suspected. The haughty Miss Lord was surprising forgetful about clothes this morning, underwear in particular.

"No blouse today?" the receptionist sweetly inquired, antenna quivering.

"I, ah? I spilled some tea on it during the drive over," Carolyn replied as she handed the directory to the receptionist. "I dropped the blouse off at the cleaners before I came, so it wouldn't become stained. That's why I'm so late."

She turned and quickly moved to where she left her brief case. Grabbing the handle, she walked toward the hallway leading to one of the large administration offices. Sensing Mrs. Johnson's eyes following her, she increased her pace across the reception area, hoping to avoid any more embarrassing questions concerning her appearance, especially about her obviously missing bra.

"Got your bra too, huh?"

Damn, thought Carolyn. Can't I ever get a break?

"Yes, wouldn't you know."

"Ooh, that could hurt. Hope you didn't burn yourself."

"No, no. It was iced tea. Have a good day, Mrs.

Johnson." And please stay away from me, Carolyn silently added as she practically ran from the room, her unencumbered breasts gaily dancing on her chest as she moved.

As Carolyn left the reception area, Mrs. Johnson's fingers began to dance on her inter-office communications console. The fact that something unusual was definitely going on with Carolyn Lord today spread through the office like wildfire. Soon every paralegal and secretary in to work that day was aware of Carolyn's appearance and its implications.

Everyone at the firm had always been at least reasonably sure of the Friday night activities of Maria and her friends. When word got out that the untouchable Carolyn Lord was actually going to escort the new trainee Tiffany Goodbody to one, the office betting began as to weither or not Carolyn would participate or not, and if so, how far could they get her to go.

And now, here she was, wearing the same suit as the day before (which meant she hadn't been back to her apartment since leaving work yesterday), and otherwise looking positively used. Even her usual light coating of make-up was missing.

Even better, the usually modestly-dressed Miss Lord was positively flaunting her body today by not wearing

blouse or bra. Probably not wearing any panties either, according to Mrs. Johnson. It was shocking. This kind of behavior coming from someone who wouldn't hesitate to run complaining to the associates and even the partners whenever a skirt was too high or a neckline too low, not too mention whenever she saw some innocent (and some not-

so-innocent) flirting with the higher-ups going on. And sexual harassment complaints, oh brother! She established the office procedures, and used them, too.

Well! If the high and mighty Carolyn Lord decided she could now act the slut, just because it suited her to do so, and get away with it, she had another think coming.

Carolyn?s erstwhile co-workers knew that she must have had a very interesting night and couldn?t wait to get all the dirt from Maria. But, even without knowing the details, it was obvious to their experienced eyes that the virginal Carolyn had finally gotten herself laid (but good!), and was in fact still reeling from the effects.

The other paralegals of the firm had always been quite jealous of Carolyn's competence and obvious high standing with the firm's partners and associates. Her natural coolness toward their gestures of friendship only aggravated their dislike if not hatred of her.

Over freely flowing daiquiris late one Friday afternoon, a group of the more senior paralegals and secretaries decided that what that "stuck-up bitch" actually needed was for someone to show her just what her place really was at the firm. All agreed that, with the right opportunity, they would be more than willing to expose her to the higher-ups for what she really was.

Just what terrible thing it was that Carolyn Lord was suppose to be (other then that she was young, good-

looking and effective at her job) was never really made clear, as their table was quite littered with empty daiquiris glasses by then.

But the need for collective action on their part, to be taken against her at some future time, that was clearly understood by all.

And now, it looked like their golden opportunity had come at last.

Even without knowing the details, the office collectively realized the normally impeccable, highly capable, and very reserved Miss Carolyn Lord was highly vulnerable today. Perhaps now was the perfect time for the stuck-up bitch to get a little of the comeuppance she had coming to her!

The Daiquiris Group, picking up allies along the way, decided that, since she seemed to be offering her body, it was up to them to figure a way of taking it. Lesbian or not, everyone wanted in on it. They had all been fooled by her inflexible act of high morality long enough.

As she walked to her corner (no mere cubical for her), Carolyn could sense the intense activity going on all around her. Even on normal Saturdays it could become very busy here, but today everyone seemed absolutely frenzied. Phones were ringing and conversations positively buzzed all over the cubicles that divided the large administration office. Must be that today's big conference has gotten everyone excited, she thought.

She knew that it was a very important initial meeting with the representatives of a potential client, Littov Industries. If it proved successful, within six months the firm could have its biggest client ever.

It was Carolyn's function to ensure that all was prepared for the conference.

When she reached her normally spotless desk, she found it covered with action memoranda and phone message slips.

Her voice mail indicator was blinking furiously. She decided she had better start dealing with that before the machine had a nervous breakdown.

But, first things first. She sat at her desk and opened the draw which contained her office make-up kit.

As she put on her face for the day, the troubling events of this morning faded into insignificance. Carolyn was back in her element, and she knew there was far too much for her to be responsible about to have time to worry about anything else.

She clicked on her voice mail, listening carefully as she applied her make-up, stopping to make an occasional note as required.

She wasn't sure what all the fuss was about. She had organized things so that 90% of the work required for the conference was completed as of Friday afternoon. This morning, barring any new significant developments or taskings, would be strictly devoted to easy follow-up work. Even the conference room was already prepared, with handouts, pads, and a catering service scheduled to arrive 60 minutes prior to the guests with drinks and a buffet. Only the presentation system still needed to be prepared, and a last minute check for dust and such.

Her face finished, she allowed herself only one brief disapproving glance at the ridiculous cleavage being displayed in her vanity mirror before closing it and putting her make-up kit back in the drawer.

She sighed. Of all the days for this to happen, she thought. Of all the days?

"I must put a spare blouse in my make-up drawer," she said. "A spare set of underwear probably wouldn't be a bad idea, either."

She diligently through all of her phone messages, being sure to log any taskers that came from the partners and associates. She then started in on her memos and phone call slips. 30 minutes later she looked at the results. There were exactly three new action items to be taken care of prior to the conference. The remainder of all that mess concerned items which she had already completed, and of which she had already informed the parties concerned.

While she was looking for her office bottle of aspirin, Carolyn suddenly found herself surrounded by people. Great, she thought. On the one day I wanted to be left alone, here everyone comes. It seemed that everyone in the office wanted to see her about something or other.

Carolyn was so intent on handling this crowd that she didn't notice the arrival behind her of the firm's senior paralegal and Carolyn's immediate supervisor, Ms. Susan George.

Ms. George had secretly lusted after Carolyn ever since the first day she was hired by the firm five years ago. Trouble was, Carolyn had proved so standoffish that she never really had a chance at her. Until now.

When she learned that Carolyn had finally been talked into going to one of those Friday night orgies attended by some of the younger members, Susan had bet a considerable sum of money that Carolyn would remain aloft and not be a participant. Susan wanted her all for herself, after all.

Now, Susan was furious. Her gaze down the front of Carolyn's jacket told her all she needed to know. The bitch! She felt betrayed and was burning with thoughts of revenge. After giving Carolyn's exposed breasts one last heatfilled glance, she turned and left without a sound. Susan needed to talk with her friends about this.

She even knew an associate and partner or two who had been keeping a not-so-motherly eye on the delectable Miss Lord.

Thus it was that, on this most important of days, two independent groups within the firm were implementing plans to "get" the unsuspecting Carolyn Lord.

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