Hi Everyone
I hope you are all well.
Time for a few mid-week treats. In cluding Amber, Skinnie and Dani.
My very best wishes to you all.
XXX
A little treat for you all and especially our friend Samantha for all her kindness to me this week XX
I have heard from a good source that gossip about passengers on planes is commonplace, well, for those travelling alone Gossip is easily attracted.
Our Friend Amber has certainly come up trumps here, managing to slip our sweet Andy into the tender touch of two blog Legends, my word Andy could die happy from such tender kisses.
Sissy Dani has also dipped her toes into the world of Andy and Aunt Jane creating these cute little images.
Thanks Dani
And now, holding everything up is the final part of Skinnie Stallions amazing tale Office Politics.
Office Politics
By
Skinnie Stallion
6. Office Politics – Nice Weekend
Owen soon found it wasn’t only Mrs Ericsson who wanted his out of hours support. Others were so keen to seek out his services that Pam had to maintain a booking sheet for him. Val on reception was asked to do similar to handle weekend bookings. Weekend bookings proved very popular. The husbands or partners of Lumina’s executives seemed to be away a lot.
This Friday, when Val summoned Owen to the lobby, he found Ms Halliday waiting. So Ms Halliday wanted a turn too. She was laughing with Val over the paperwork. Val took the clipboard from Ms Halliday saying, “So he’s all signed out and into your care. Have a nice weekend Ms Halliday.”
“Oh, I shall,” said the HR executive whom Owen had admired since his first interview. “He was my recruitment selection so I think I deserve a weekend with our lovely Office Sissy.” She paused for a moment detecting a wistful look in the receptionist. “As you know Val, out of hours bookings are normally reserved for senior management but, if you’d like, I could make an exception for you. I know you and Owen started at Lumina together. Perhaps if you’d like a Friday night….?”
“Oh Ms Halliday, that would be amazing. My boyfriend’s away next weekend. I’d love to have someone to go clubbing with. Owen would be perfect.”
“Would you like that Owen?” Ms Halliday asked Owen who’d suddenly gone shy, his buttocks tightening on his XL. He couldn’t believe that Val would want to go out with him. He wondered whether Val had toys like the execs or whether he’d need to ask Mrs Ericsson if he could borrow hers for an evening. Or would that be inappropriate?
“Yes,” Ms Halliday. Owen didn’t dare look Val in the eye. It would be interesting to see whether she was like the girls in the Secretarial Pool and members of Lumina management. He really did need to file a report to Ms Bramley but things did keep getting on top of him.
“That’s good,” said Ms Halliday. “Now come along Owen, I’ve got a staff car outside waiting to take me to my little place in the Cotswolds. I’ve got a lot of dictation for you when we’re settled in the back seats. I know you won’t be able to wear a seat belt but the driver has adapted a baby harness to keep you firmly in place.”
“Thank you, Ms Halliday,” he said, following meekly.
“Bye, Owen,” Val called after him as they headed for the doors. “Have a nice weekend. Keep those lips moist for me.”
Back home, Owen’s mother was concerned that he was working too hard. It was nice that his earnings at Lumina kept increasing (there were a lot of ‘special bonus’ items on his payslips that he struggled to explain) and all very well him doing overtime most evenings and going in on Saturday mornings, but now he wasn’t coming home at weekends. According to Owen, he was needed on Executive Retreats where members of the senior team could work on strategic positioning and entry into new areas. But her boy was looking tired.
That Saturday she got a call on the landline. No-one called on the landline these days. “Yes, who’s calling?” she asked.
“It’s Claudia Bramley from Bergman and Knightley. Is that Mrs Peters?”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible to speak to Owen, please? I was expecting him to call and he’s not been answering.”
“I’m afraid Owen’s away this weekend. Can I ask the purpose of your call, please? I may be able to pass him a message when he gets back on Sunday evening.”
“Sunday evening! Doesn’t he call in?”
“Oh, he’s very busy. He’s on some company thing or other. The management at Lumina is so demanding. They keep pushing him for more hours. Pushing and pushing.”
“I quite understand. It sounds like he’s become a very popular boy. Anyway, please can you ask him to call me when he gets a chance. I’d like him to come into our offices. Please tell him to take a day’s leave on Monday.”
“But he hasn't missed a day since he’s been back at Lumina. And he gets overtime…”
“Monday. Please tell him. He can call in to Lumina. I’m sure he’ll be due some leave.”
7. Office Politics - Checking In
For Owen, it was the situation that did it. It had been awkward enough telephoning Pam to say he wasn’t coming in that morning. Coming to the top floor of Bergman and Knightley was worse. It brought it all back. He shivered at the recollection of being summoned to see the Headmistress at school. He’d hated waiting outside her office while his classmates could see him quivering. He was less worried by the boys who tended to be sympathetic and recognise his plight. It was the girls who got to him. They’d point at him and giggle. He didn’t feel he’d ever get over that stigma. He cringed at the thought of standing on the carpet before the martinet awaiting his punishment for what were normally trivial uniform offences except for that time behind the bike sheds with Alex: the girls were never going to let him forget that one.
That feeling came back with a vengeance as he waited outside Ms Bramley’s office. He’d been here once before when history had repeated itself at B&K with Joshua. It wasn’t that he hadn’t learned from his mistake with Alex. He had. He wanted to try it again.
His heart sank as he was summoned to enter Ms Bramley’s office. He knew that he’d been poor at keeping in touch with her and failing to report. He had to atone. He didn’t wait for instruction. He crossed the floor and knelt before her. It wasn’t a time for prayer, it was the time for action. Better to take the initiative he thought as he pushed her skirt aside, hoping she wouldn't consider it an impertinence. It helped that she parted her knees welcomingly. Some things hadn’t changed. Owen obviously hadn’t disgraced himself too much. She was ready for the debrief. He set about his task, eager to show how his skills had developed after three months of intensive effort at Lumina.
He was glad that he’d decided to tuck when he was dressing for the meeting. It seemed appropriate given his report. His confidence was helped by knowing that there’d be nothing embarrassing to disrupt the smooth lines of his skirt: he wanted to look the perfect PA. He felt sure he’d never want a PA although Ms Bramley might want to check.
A tight tuck and his panties would also help to hide his XL. Would Ms Bramley notice that an M was no longer sufficient. He was now wearing his XL all the time. Last weekend Ms Halliday had wanted to show him that she felt neglected. If this continued, he was going to have to get an XXL or maybe even an XXXL. He wondered whether he’d still be tight enough for any future boyfriend? Boyfriend? As if that was ever going to happen when he was working these hours.
Owen had lost count by the time Ms Bramley commanded him to stop. He tried to ignore the moistness gathering in his latex panties, staying resolutely focused on Ms Bramley’s delicious secretions. He was tired and his neck was beginning to ache. At least Ms Bramley’s desires seemed sated for now and that he’d proved he was still a well-trained B&K Boy. All her special lessons had been worthwhile.
“So Owen, I note that your technique has come on a lot but it’s changed: you’re using much more tongue and less lips and mouth. Very good. But you’ve been falling down on your other duties: you owe me a report. Have you found out why we’ve lost Lumina as a customer?”
Owen stood up. His face was dripping but he resisted trying to wipe it. He felt a cool trickle escape his panties and run down his right leg prompting him to draw his legs together and stand as if to attention. Once more he felt like the little boy trying to explain himself to the Headmistress. “It’s why my technique has changed, Ms Bramley,” he blurted, his nervousness causing him to forget his prepared speech.
“Sorry? Explain yourself.”
“I needed to keep my lips closed to preserve my teeth.”
“What?” demanded a perplexed Claudia Bramley.
“My teeth. I don’t want to chip my teeth. The executives don't mind, in fact they like it.”
“I’m sure they do but what’s that got to do with anything? I want to know why they’re not buying Bergman and Knightley. At B&K we’ve made sure our recent collections focus on the female executive. We’ve got power suits. Jackets with padded shoulders: very 1980s, except with leather pants or PVC pants. Tight latex panties that show NVP under tight pants or leggings. The executives at Lumina ought to love it.”
“But that’s the problem, Ms Bramley. The executives don’t want tight pants. In fact, many of the staff don’t either. It’s why they wear skirts or loose cloth trousers rather than tight pants.”
“Why ever?”
“Because of their labia, Ms Bramley.”
“Their labia?!”
“Yes, their labia. And clits too, in some cases.”
“Clits?! We’ve all got clits!”
“Yes, but not pierced ones,” said an embarrassed Owen. Despite his recent intimacy with Ms Bramley, Owen still felt uncomfortable talking about private matters. Was that why he’d avoided making this report for so long?
“Pierced?”
“Yes, pierced.”
“Well, quite a few of the ladies at B&K have piercings. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it’s quite the thing especially with some of our younger staff. Tits and clits mostly, I admit, but I don’t see that’s a problem. A little clit ring can be quite attractive. I considered getting one myself a while back. My mistress at the time was quite taken with the idea of having me on a lead.” Owen blushed. He’d never thought of Ms Bramley as someone who might have a mistress. Still, he guessed, even Ms Bramley must have started somewhere.
“But these aren't little. These are large. With tags attached.”
“Tags?”
“Yes, tags, like identity tags or ownership tags. Some even have padlocks.”
“I can guess what they’re used for. Labia, I assume?”
“Yes, Ms Bramley. Although there’s sometimes even a padlock on a clit just to make life difficult,” Owen sighed, “but that’s just on the juniors.”
“And these tags, do they say anything? I hope you looked.”
“I did, although it was difficult in the dark. The Execs’ tags all seemed to be engraved ‘TS’. But that made no sense since none of them are trans.”
“I see.” Ms Bramley sucked on her pen. Owen wished she hadn't done that. It only made things worse with his tautening tuck. “And the junior staff?”
“That’s the strange thing. Most are ‘TS’ too, but a few have ‘DI’, and no way are they Detective Inspectors. They were the ones with the padlocks.”
“Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“Is something wrong, Ms Bramley?” asked Owen.
“Yes. Too bloody right something’s wrong. It means we’re in the middle of another battle between The Sisterhood and The Dark Institute. I thought those days were gone. Tattoos are obviously no longer enough for them. Now it’s tagging and enforced or voluntary chastity. Or at least one type of chastity. The Dark Institute has always wanted control of their members.”
“I did wonder.”
“The Dark Institute expect a willingness and readiness in their juniors if they have no male trainees. I guess this way they can guarantee control, unless The Sisterhood has got there first.”
“But who are The Dark Institute or The Sisterhood?”
“There’s no need for you to worry your pretty, little head about that. Looks like we’re going to have to switch our focus to skirts and dresses rather than pants suits for customers like Lumina. We may even have to offer B&K Boys with the appropriate additions. I assume you’ve not been given any metalwork?”
“No, Ms Bramley. Definitely not.”
“Ah well, a Prince Albert can look quite sweet on a boy, especially when they’re no longer using their thing. A PA for a PA. I’ll do a check later when I reward you with some deskwork for a job well done. But first I want to brief you about your next assignment. You might as well get back down on your knees for this. I find it strange looking at you with my pussy juices all over your face.” As Owen knelt, Ms Bramley started, “I think some free samples might be a way to get Lumina back as customers. You can take those in with you. We’ll call it a perk of you being a B&K Boy. Then, I’m afraid we’re going to need you to resign by the end of the week……”
Owen was thunderstruck. He wasn’t going to get his night out with Val. “Bu….”, he opened his mouth to protest but Ms Bramley was prepared and pulled his head forward and ground his face against her.
“Based on your performance, I’ve decided to take you on as a full-time B&K Boy. You’ll start next week.”
“Bu….,” again his nose penetrated her lower cleavage.
“Don’t worry about your contract. I’ll get the lawyers to sort things out with Lumina. I’m setting up a Special Operations Unit. You’ll report directly to me. I have some assignments that will suit a boy with your talents. In a few minutes, I’ll check how you’ve progressed in another area or whether I need you to have more sessions with Geoffrey before we send you out again.”
8. Office Politics: Checking Out
“Well thank you, Owen, that is most kind,” said Mrs Sandborg placing the package beneath her desk. “You really will make the most perfect ambassador for Bergman and Knightley.”
Owen relaxed and leaned into the moment: “Well, Lumina did send me to B&K for training.” He felt more self-assured after his meeting with Ms Bramley. He’d only been in the CEO’s office a few times, roughly the same number that she’d been into him. This was likely to be the last visit. Pam and Ms Halliday had said that Mrs Sandborg wanted to do an exit interview. It was pointless getting nervous. Even so, he’d put in his new XXL in readiness just in case she carried out her earlier threat. “I hope I’ve been a credit to both Bergman and Knightley and Lumina Cosmetics.”
“You have young man. Ms Halliday tells me you’re leaving us. It’s such a shame. Is there nothing we can do to convince you to stay? A raise, perhaps?”
“No, Mrs Sandborg.”
“What about a promotion? We could promote you to the Executive Pool and make more exclusive use of your unique talents: a useless PA but a perfectly wonderful Sissy. Status does matter. Would you like that?”
“It would be nice, but no. And I like the girls in the Secretarial Pool. I feel it would be unfair on them. I’d prefer to be one of the girls.”
“But you’re a Sissy, Owen.”
“I know,” he said ruefully.
“A very pretty sissy, but still a Sissy. We shall miss you. I’ve instructed HR that we must go back to having an Office Sissy from Bergman and Knightley. We thought the quality had gone down in recent years but dispensing with the role now seems like a foolish cost-cutting measure. You’ve proved the value to us of having a proper B&K Boy. You can’t beat a good sissy. Well you can, that’s part of their charm. B&K seem to have got their training back on track. I’ve even recommended Bergman and Knightley to The Sisterhood: it would be far simpler for them to renew their sissy stock by working with Bergmans.”
“That would be good. I’m sure Ms Bramley and B&K management will be pleased. And I do hope you enjoy wearing your new B&K latex skirt. It’s a sample from Bergman’s latest JaneStyle range. It’s designed by Lady Jane Fullerton-Jones in collaboration with B&K’s creative director Andy Latex.”
“Jane Fullerton-Jones? I recognise that name. I think she’s worked with The Sisterhood before. Andy Latex too. I’ll definitely look forward to wearing her design. She’ll understand the needs of a modern woman.”
“Definitely, Mrs Sandborg. She designs with the woman …. and the sissy in mind. She really thinks about access requirements. I’m sure Mr Sandborg will like it too.”
“Mr Sandborg does what he’s told. If it’s as good as you say, I may be buying more items from the collection. I think latex does look better when trying to impress a client. I think we need to get out reps back into latex. And if the reps are going to wear it, so should management. We need to establish a consistent house-style. You’ve been good for us, Owen. You’ve reminded me of what makes Lumina special.”
“Thank you, Mrs Sandborg.”
“But before you get too complacent may I remind you that you’re still working for Lumina until the end of the week. It’s time for you to attend to my needs. I have a short gap before my next meeting. I’m only in Ponte di Roma today rather than latex so I need you to take special care. When you’re done, and it’ll be me who tells you when you’re done, Lick and blow dry, Sissy boy, and don’t stain my skirt.”
“Yes, Mrs Sandborg.”
