Work and Pray
Isabella woke up early. And aroused. At first she was a little confused as to her nightwear, but then it call came back to her. Ms Johnson. Her clothes. Isabella blushed. How could she have let this happen? Is things stood she’d have to go to work in a training bra and princess panties. She considered her options. She could of course go straight to Ms Johnson and reclaim her things in an instant. Refreshed, she felt that it was no longer such an obstacle, but did she want to?
She felt the dampness of her panties. That told its own story. Sex and excitement had always been of a secondary nature to her. She somehow felt normal in giving in to her excitement. There was that, and the fact that it was actually a relief to have someone putting her in her place, taking decisions off her. The last good many years every month had meant another number of decisions being added to her list of responsibilities.
She decided to play along, and then see how she felt the next morning.
Yawning, she went for a shower, avoiding any mirrors. She took off her nightwear and was again humiliated by the sight of her private parts being bald as if she was 10. This wasn’t right, it just wasn’t! But many women she knew claimed to shave or wax, so perhaps she shouldn’t make such as fuzz about it.
The water was hot and lovely, and Isabella forgot time and place for a good few minutes. However, when she came to washing her womanly parts she quickly remembered the indignities, as she didn’t dare do anything but wash her pussy as quickly as she could, fearing that Ms Johnson might appear at any moment to humiliate her further. Her bottom was still hurting from the spankings. It’d be a long day at the office.
She got out and dried herself off. She then decided to blow dry her hair, which was the reason for her not hearing Ms Johnson enter the bathroom.
“How did you sleep Isabella?”
Isabella shrieked and jumped.
“Please, Ms Johnson, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I didn’t hear you coming at all. I slept quite well, thank you”.
She managed a smile. Ms Johnson seemed pleased
“And do you have anything else to tell me?” she inquired.
Isabella thought it over again.
“No, Ms Johnson, I don’t, not right now”.
Her neighbour smiled, much like a predator having just cornered its breakfast.
“Right then, young lady, on the bed, legs apart” she said, making Isabella do the impossible and blush all the way down her chest. She had forgotten about the baby powder.
But there was no way around it. Sulking, she walked towards her bed with a towel. It was strange that she was now so used to being naked in front of her neighbour that she didn’t think twice about walking around like that. She put the towel on the bed, and laid down on it. Spreading her legs was a challenge for her dignity still. Isabella closed her eyes and slowly opened up so that Ms Johnson could see her womanhood. It had been bone dry until now, but Isabella felt with increasing desperation how the humiliation made her slightly moist.
Ms Johnson examined her, much to the displeasure of the humiliated business woman. A few teasing ‘accidental’ brushing over her clit and Isabella could feel herself getting wet. And the thought of how little of her privacy was left made the trickle into a small stream. Ms Johnson shook her head
“I’m sorry, dear, but there’s no way around it. I’m afraid if I don’t do this then your panties will be a mess before lunch”
…and with that, she went to get the baby powder. Isabella was close to tears. A few minutes later she felt the cold powder sucking up her sexual fluids and once again leaving her dry as a school girl.
The notion that even the most basic expression of sexual excitement was beyond her humiliated Isabella even further. She felt her pussy reduced to pre-puberty, and the idea of being an important manager and business woman to the world, but having her sexual ability tamed in this way almost took her breath away. She felt the princess panties being pulled up, and she didn’t resist when a training bra was pulled over her head. Her nipples became rock hard as if they protested against the desexualization.
She got up. Without heels she was almost a head smaller than Ms Johnson (who wore shoes, to be fair), and the difference in size made Isabella squirm. Ms Johnson winked
“Now, get yourself ready, and we’ll talk before you leave for work”.
Isabella nodded, and went to get her business suit and the rest of her ‘uniform’ for the day. The tights didn’t look quite as sexy as usually when being pulled up over a pair of princess panties she thought. And she found that she was not able to fill out her blouse in the areas that mattered, leaving too much material around the chest. Right, skirt on, jacket on, better, with a bit of luck no-one would notice.
She re-entered the bathroom and began doing her make-up. She made sure to keep it simple to avoid having it taken away as being ‘inappropriate’. With her make-up done, she went to work on her hair. It was less trouble, even though she needed a bit of chemical help to make it curl in the directions she wanted it to curl in. Without it her hair would just be a curly mess. Satisfied, she went to get her breakfast.
The water was boiling in the kettle, and she was preparing some yoghurt and fruit to go with her coffee. She was very aware of her new underwear, as the feeling was very different to the lace and silk she was used to. The warm feeling of cotton reminded her of her childhood. She tried to fight the feeling of being 10 once more. It was really messing with her brain, this.
She got her very adult cup of coffee and had her very feminine breakfast in relative peace and quiet. She began to look at emails and quietly slipped in to work mode. Then she got up, realized she had to go soon, and rushed to brush her teeth and apply the last finishing touches to her attire. Earrings, necklace… a ring… yes… grab bag… yes… got it.. keys… curse… oh well.. but then I just need my coat and heels. She went back to her corridor by the front door, ready to leave, getting her shoes and coat.
But neither were to be found. All her coats and all her shoes and boots had mysteriously disappeared. She cursed Ms Johnson, not for the first time that morning. Then, grabbing her bag and purse, she walked bare footed outside, feeling very exposed, stupid and small. She paused, and then she closed the door. She heard it lock. No way back now. She took a deep breath and knocked on Ms Johnson’s door.
It took some time before the door was answered. Isabella was quite certain that this was no accident. She was meant to stand outside and feel small. Humiliated, she stepped inside when Ms Johnson opened the door.
“All ready to go I see”
Ms Johnson examined her.
“Have you had your breakfast?”.
“Yes Ms Johnson” Isabella answered. Why did she have to blush all the time? It was a perfectly normal answer to a perfectly normal question. If only she didn’t feel like a child.
Ms Johnson answered.
“Now, you remember everything? You’ll come straight home after work, ring the bell by the front door and I’ll let you in. You’ll come straight up here, and we’ll talk. Any questions?”.
Isabella shook her head.
“Well, I need my heels and my coat” she said in a small voice.
“Of course, we can’t have you catching a cold, here, come with me” and Ms Johnson led Isabella to a big wardrobe at the end of her corridor.
Here, she saw when the doors were opened, all her shoes and coats were stored. Ms Johnson took a good look at Isabella’s clothes, and picked up a pair of matching heels. But she didn’t give them to Isabella, who looked puzzled. “
These.. you know they will not do”
Ms Johnson said. Isabella nodded. She knew, and the notion made her princess panties wet.
“But…” Ms Johnson continued “we can’t have you getting sacked or reprimanded at work, can we?”.
Another shake of the red mane.
“So, for now, you’ll have your heels. But I’m working towards something, mark my words. These are for adults”.
Isabella could feel a large wet patch forming. The powder had given up trying to contain her wetness. Silently she took her heels handed to her, and her coat. She said “Bye, then, Ms Johnson, see you tonight” and headed for the door. But then another thought hit her and she turned around.
“Ms Johnson.. uh… can I have my car keys please? I’m late already”.
Her neighbor looked amused.
“Certainly not, Isabella, and I be happy that I’ve not taken your purse into my possession by now. You are not driving anywhere. I suggest you hurry and get the bus now. Unless you’d rather have me find an old bike for you?”.
Isabella’s world flipped twice. No car? She was used to driving everywhere. And that car had cost her a fortune. It was her place to relax, drive into the countryside and escape the world. It was her freedom. But she was sure Ms Johnson knew that very well. She silently cursed Ms Johnson and then, in turn, herself, as she could feel her pussy tingle in her princess panties. She waved goodbye and left, to find a bus stop.
Once outside, Isabella started to relax. She called Alice, her secretary, to tell her she’d be a little late. Using her phone she found the right bus, and, in turn, a bus stop where she could get on it, and soon after she was in a bus seat on her way to work. She could still feel the effect of the morning and the previous day. Her pussy was sore. It was not used to this much excitement. She normally just got herself worked up about once a week, and took care of her needs straight away. Being constantly aroused was a new feeling, and she had to admit it wasn’t unpleasant.
Half an hour late she walked into the building where she worked. She got the lift to the 6th floor, got out and walked to the right down a long corridor. Top management was on the floor above, but she was getting there, one step at the time. She greeted Alice, who was in her early twenties and a rather plain looking brunette, who actually possessed a great deal of both humour and initiative. Isabella entered her office, and found that the world had not fallen to bits. It didn’t take her long to forget about her new underwear and her situation, and after 30 minutes she was completely occupied with her work.
Sitting in her own office next to Isabella’s, Alice was wondering. Her boss had looked flushed but fresh this morning. She really, really liked Isabella. There was nothing uptight or posh about her, and she’d discuss matters with her, not trying to pretend that she had all the answers. They had a good work relationship. And that meant that Alice was very loyal to Isabella. But still, there was something about her. Alice got up, she needed to get another look. She took a few papers that needed signing and knocked on the door to Isabella’s office.
She entered, and took another look at Isabella. She definitely looked flushed. Then she noticed something. Her nails had been cut short and were not painted. That was a first. Isabella always had her nails well manicured and polished. And there was something else. If she didn’t know better she could swear that her boss were wearing a sports bra or something, because her bust were flatter than usual, and she could see wide straps under the white blouse. It even looked like there were some kind of pattern on it. It was hardly visible under the buttoned up blouse, but there might be something to it.
Puzzled Alice asked “Are you OK Isabella? You look…. eh… tired?”.
Isabella looked up. Was it that obvious? She blushed.
“Well, thanks Alice. I’m fine though. Just some… domestic … issues”.
She was unsure of what else to say. Alice thought to herself “domestic issues? WTF. That doesn’t make any sense at all. She’s single”. She was unsure if she should pursue this or leave it. She decided to shrug it off, and left the office again, giving Isabella a smile. At least she should know that she was on her side. She went back to work, but it kept playing on the back of her mind.
Just before lunch Isabella felt very good about herself. She had been her own effective self. She had been worried that the excitement would affect her, but it hadn’t. She had gotten a good deal done. Now, in two minutes it’d be time for lunch. She usually went out for lunch, and sometimes Alice joined her. That way they would talk a bit, and save time if anything had come up. They even talked about personal matters sometimes.
Just as she heard Alice knocking at her door, Isabella got a text message from Ms Johnson.
“How are you doing, Isabella? Remember to come directly home. I’ve taken certain things into my custody while you’ve been away and we need to talk about that. Ms Johnson”.
Isabella felt her head spin and her knees begin to shake.
She got up, saying “Yes, just a second”, but her mind was concentrating on what she might have lost. The result was that her right heel got stuck in the thick carpet and she fell straight on her face on the floor.
Alice went “ohmygod” and rushed to get her up. Isabella felt that her skirt had ridden up, and she frantically moved her hands to pull it back down whilst trying to get up on her knees. It felt like a slow motion action, her hands moving towards the hem of her skirt, Alice rushing in from the door.
She didn’t make it. Once Alice reached her, she got behind her to help her up, and then she stopped, frozen, at the sight of the princess panties under Isabella’s tights…