Female waxer turned out to be my rival's best friend CFNM SPH blackmail femdom - updated chapter 3

[jllash]

Chapter 2 viewtopic.php?p=40490#p40490
Chapter 3 viewtopic.php?p=40786#p40786

"So, what brings you in today?" The perky voice of the receptionist cut through the muffled chatter of the salon. I shifted nervously in my seat, glancing around at the immaculate white walls adorned with pictures of well-groomed models.

"Just a... uh... a regular wax appointment," I managed to squeak out. I had never had a wax done before on my genitals, just the thought made me nervous but I heard some girls liked it well taken care of, and I wanted to push myself out of my comfort zone so I had made an appointment.

The receptionist nodded, her eyes scanning the appointment book. "Ah, you're here to see Melissa. She's running a bit late, but she'll be with you shortly."

A few minutes later, the door to the waiting area swung open, and Melissa stepped in, her dark hair tied back in a neat ponytail, her smile as bright as the salon's lights. "Hey there," she said, her eyes meeting mine. "You're up next."

I followed her into the waxing room, feeling the weight of the situation grow heavier with every step. The room was small, with a single chair in the center and a tray of waxing supplies on a nearby counter. "Strip down everything below your waist and hop on the chair," Melissa instructed, her tone professional but friendly.

My heart racing, I did as I was told, feeling a cold breeze hit my bare skin as my pants and underwear dropped to the floor and sat back on the chair. Melissa's eyes flickered downward for a split second before she looked away. "Ready?" she asked, her voice a little too cheery.

I nodded, gripping the chair's armrests tightly. She began explaining the process, her voice calm and soothing.

Melissa was meticulous in her work, spreading the wax in smooth, even strokes before ripping off each strip with a quick, firm motion. The pain was surprisingly tolerable, and despite my nerves, I found myself relaxing under her skilled hands.

"So," she began, her voice casual as she prepped for the next round, "do you have any hobbies or anything interesting going on?"

"Just work mostly," I replied, my voice tight.

Melissa nodded, her eyes focused on her task. "Where do you work?"

"At the office building on the corner of Main and Elm," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm in marketing."

Melissa's eyes snapped up to meet mine, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "No way! That's where my friend Rachel works," she exclaimed, placing a strip of wax and pressing it firmly against my skin. "You guys must know each other."

I felt my stomach drop. Rachel was my long time rival at work. We had started the same year and have been in fierce competition ever since. Yet here I was, completely exposed to her friend. My mind raced, should I pretend I didn't know her? What if she mentioned it? What if she said something about my... size? The thought made my cheeks burn with embarrassment, but I decided to be honest.

"Yeah, we started around the same time," I said, trying to keep my voice casual despite the sudden spike in tension. The feeling from the wax was almost comforting now.

Melissa raised an eyebrow. "Rachel, huh? She's a sweetie. What's it like working with her?"

I gritted my teeth as she ripped off the strip of wax, the hair coming with it. "It's... fine," I said, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. "She can be a handful."

Melissa chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's Rachel for you," she said, clearly enjoying the gossip.

The rest of the session passed in a blur of painful tugs and forced small talk. I found myself eager to escape the situation, but also weirdly curious about what Melissa and Rachel's friendship entailed. Would they laugh about me over drinks after work? The thought was both mortifying and oddly thrilling.

Finally, it was over. Melissa stepped back and surveyed her handiwork with a critical eye. "Looks good," she said, her voice professional once more. "Time for some after photos so we know what to aim for next time."

I gulped, was this normal? This is the first time I had a wax but it seemed unnecessary. I shuddered at the possibility she might show Rachel the pictures. Before I had a chance to protest Melissa had already picked up her phone and with a knowing smile and snapped a few quick photos. "Great," she said, her thumbs dancing across the screen. "If you want, I can send them to you for your records."

I nodded, my face flushing. "Sure," I managed to croak out. She promised she'd send them over and helped me off the chair. The cool air of the room hit my freshly waxed skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I quickly dressed, eager to leave the salon and the potential embarrassment behind.

As I paid, Melissa's eyes glinted with something that could have been amusement or mischief. "Thanks," I mumbled, trying to keep my dignity intact.

The following days at work were a rollercoaster of anxiety. Every time Rachel walked by, I felt my heart skip a beat. Did she know? Did Melissa mention it? I couldn't bring myself to ask, the thought of confirming my fears was too much to bear. Rachel, on the other hand, seemed more confident than usual, her usual competitive glares replaced by a smug smirk that I couldn't quite read.

On the third day, Rachel cornered me by the water cooler. "So," she began, her voice a little too sweet, "how was your weekend?"

My heart raced as I tried to play it cool. "Oh, you know. Just the usual," I said, filling my cup and avoiding her gaze.

Rachel leaned closer, her smirk growing wider. "Really?" she asked, her eyes dancing with something that looked suspiciously like glee. "I heard you had quite the... 'waxing' experience."

I nearly choked on the water I was sipping. "Wh-what?" I stammered, trying to keep my cool.

Rachel's eyes gleamed with a knowing look. "Oh, you know," she said, her voice a playful purr. "A 'little' birdie told me you got a bikini wax," she wiggled her pinky finger.

I felt my face go up in flames, "It's just... personal grooming," I managed to spit out, trying to play it off.

Rachel's smirk grew even wider. "Well, I'm just saying, it's not every day you hear about a guy getting his 'little guy' waxed down there," she teased.

I coughed, trying to recover. "It's... it's nothing," I protested weakly.

Rachel leaned in closer, "Yeah it really did look like there wasn't much of anything," she quipped, and I felt the blood drain from my face as the implication hit me like a ton of bricks.

"What?" I sputtered, trying to keep the horror out of my voice.

Rachel leaned back, sipping her own water with an air of satisfaction. "Well, Melissa mentioned you had a bit of a... 'snack-sized' situation down there," she said, "and it turns out she took some photos..."

My mind raced as I tried to formulate a response. But Rachel was already scrolling through her phone, her eyes lighting up as she found what she was looking for. She turned the screen towards me, and there it was: a photo from the waxing session. Me, laid bare and vulnerable, my penis on full display. I felt like the floor was about to give way beneath me.

"It's not... it's not what it looks like," I stuttered, desperately searching for a way out of this mortifying situation.

Rachel's smirk grew into a full-blown grin as she held the phone closer to my face. "Oh, it's exactly what it looks like," she said, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Rachel had always had a knack for finding the perfect way to get under my skin, but this was a new level of humiliation. "It's just..." Rachel's voice trailed off, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, it's just so... tiny."

Rachel's thoughts raced through her mind like a hurricane of gleeful possibilities. She had seen the way I'd tried to one-up her in meetings, the subtle glances I'd throw her way when I thought I'd scored a point. Now, she had something she could use to knock me down a peg, and she was going to revel in it. The image of my exposed penis was the ultimate trump card.

Her mind buzzed with the power she now held in our workplace rivalry. The knowledge of my secret made her feel invincible, like she had a secret hand grenade ready to lob at any moment.

As Rachel took a sip of her water, her eyes never leaving mine, I could almost hear her thoughts. "From now on, one little knowing look and he'll be forced to back down." The power had permanently shifted.

"I-I'd prefer if you kept that to yourself," I managed to murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. Rachel's smile grew even wider.

"Oh, I'm sure you would," she said, tucking her phone away. The glint in her eye told me she would use this to her advantage, and the thought made my stomach churn.

A week passed, and the office was abuzz with talk of the new project. It was the kind of opportunity that could make or break our careers, and Rachel and I both had our sights set on it. We found ourselves sitting across from each other in the conference room, our boss explaining the details.

The moment came when she asked for volunteers. Rachel's hand shot up, her eyes gleaming. "I'd love to take it on," she said confidently.

I raised my hand too, trying to match her bravado. "I've got some great ideas," I added.

Our boss looked between us, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. "Great to see the enthusiasm," she said, "I'll let you two sort out who will take it on."

Rachel's eyes never left me as she spoke up, "Don't you think it would be better if I handled this one?" she asks me, her gaze dropped to my crotch for the briefest of moments, and she gave me a wink so subtle it could have been missed by anyone not looking for it.

The room seemed to shrink around me as the reality of the situation dawned. She had me over a barrel, and she knew it. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, and I knew I had no choice but to back down. "Sure," I murmured, trying to keep the defeat out of my voice. "You're probably more... experienced in this area."

Rachel's smile grew into a full-blown smirk as she took charge of the conversation. "Great," she said, turning back to our boss. "I'll take point on this one."

Our boss nodded, oblivious to the silent battle that had just unfolded. "Wonderful, Rachel," she said, handing over the project brief. "Keep me updated."

As the meeting broke up, Rachel's eyes remained on me, the smirk never leaving her face. She sailed past me, her hips swaying more than usual, and I knew she was enjoying every moment of this. "Hey," she called over her shoulder, "Why don't you come to my office? We can chat about the project."

My heart sank. This couldn't be good. I followed her into the office, feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter. Rachel closed the door behind us with a click that echoed through the room. She leaned back against the desk, her arms crossed over her chest, the power dynamics in the room palpable.

"So, I just made you my bitch," Rachel said, gloating.

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to respond. But my mind was a whirlwind of embarrassment and anger. "What do you want?" I snapped.

Rachel's smile grew even more smug. "I want you to understand your position," she said, leaning forward and placing her hands on the desk. "You're in a very... compromising situation. And if you don't play nice, those photos might just end up in the office group chat."

The room felt like it was closing in around me. "You wouldn't," I whispered, but even I didn't believe the words coming out of my mouth. Rachel had always been ruthless in our professional rivalry, and now she had the ultimate leverage.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Rachel's eyes narrowed. "You know, I was going to let you off with a warning but you've just tested me," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "For that you have to pay. Strip."

I stared at her in shock, "What? No, I can't..."

Rachel's eyes flashed with a mix of excitement and malice. "Oh, I think you can," she said, her voice taking on a more dominant tone. "You don't want everyone to know your little secret, do you?"

Panic surged through me, and I knew I had no choice. Slowly, I began to unbutton my shirt, my hands trembling. Rachel's smile grew as she watched me, savoring every moment of my humiliation.

With trembling hands, I peeled off my shirt, revealing my bare chest.

"Good," Rachel purred, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Now the rest."

My mind raced as I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. Rachel leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed, watching me with a smug satisfaction that made my stomach churn.

With shaking hands, I slid my pants down my legs, revealing my boxers. Rachel's eyes remained on my face, watching every twitch of embarrassment and fear that played out across my features.

"Socks too," she said, her tone a mix of command and amusement.

My face burned as I peeled off my shoes and socks, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life. Rachel's eyes never left me, drinking in my discomfort. I stepped out of my pants, my heart racing as I stood before her in just my boxers.

"And the underwear," Rachel said, "Everything off."

My hands trembled as I reached for the waistband of my boxers. Rachel's smug expression made it clear that she was enjoying this, and the idea that she had power over me was both infuriating and... thrilling?

With a deep breath, I slid my underwear down, stepping out of them and standing before her completely naked, clasping my hands over my privates. Rachel's eyes traveled down my body, lingering on my covered penis before returning to meet my gaze.

"Now hand me your clothes," Rachel said, her voice firm and unyielding.

With one hand still shielding my most vulnerable parts, the other hand with trembling fingers piled up my clothes and handed them to her. She took them with a sense of triumph, holding them on her lap.

"Put your hands at your sides," Rachel ordered, her eyes glittering with excitement.

With a sinking feeling, I did as I was told, my arms dropping to my sides, my body fully exposed. Rachel took her time, her gaze lingering on my bare chest, then down to my penis. She leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips as she took in the sight of me, vulnerable and powerless before her.

The air was thick with tension as Rachel took a moment to savor my discomfort. Then, she spoke, her voice a mix of amusement and authority. "You see, you're going to do as I say from now on. You're going to let me take any project I want, you're not going to argue back, and you're going to do it without question."

"But..." I began, my voice trailing off as Rachel held up a hand.

"No buts," she said firmly. "This is your new reality."

The way Rachel spoke, so confidently, so in control, was both terrifying and humiliating. My mind raced with scenarios of her flaunting my naked photos around the office, my colleagues' laughter ringing in my ears.

"Now tell me," Rachel said, her eyes glinting with victory, "Tell me you're my bitch."

The words stuck in my throat, but the fear of her exposing my secret was stronger than my pride. "I-I'm your bitch," I forced out, feeling the humiliation wash over me like a cold shower.

Rachel's smile grew even more smug as she took a leisurely look at my naked body before leaning back in her chair. "Good," she said, breathing out and holding out my clothes. "I'm glad we understand each other."

I snatched the clothes from her, my cheeks burning, and hastily dressed. Rachel watched me, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I hope you'll remember this lesson," she said, her voice a low purr.

I exited her office, the door clicked shut behind me, leaving Rachel alone with my humiliation hanging in the air. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes glazed over with the thrill of victory. The feeling was exhilarating, like the sweet taste of success after a particularly nasty battle. Rachel had always enjoyed a good power play, but this... this was next level.

The power was intoxicating, the way I'd crumpled under the weight of her knowing smirk. Rachel couldn't resist the urge to check the photo again, her eyes lingering on my penis, completely bare of any hair. She giggled to herself, remembering the look on my face when she first revealed that she had the photo.

Her thoughts grew more heated as she thought about me standing in her office, stripping for her. Rachel felt a thrill run through her, the thought of having that kind of control over someone she'd always seen as a rival was incredibly arousing. She slipped a hand inside her underwear, feeling herself getting wet at the thought.

With a sly smile, Rachel quickly got up and locked the office door, returning to her chair. Her thoughts grew increasingly sexual as she pictured the scene again, my naked body before her, trembling with humiliation. Rachel couldn't resist the urge to relive the moment, her hand slipping back into her panties as she sat back down at her desk.

In the safety of her office, Rachel allowed herself to indulge in her newfound dominance over me. She thought of the countless ways she could use this secret to manipulate and control me at work. The thrill of it made her wetter and wetter, her breath hitching in her throat as she touched herself.

Her eyes drifted to the project brief, the paperwork for the project she had so easily claimed. Rachel knew that having me at her mercy was only going to make victory taste sweeter. She bit her lip, her hand moving in slow, deliberate circles.

Her mind wandered to the countless times we'd competed, the subtle jabs and jockeying for power. Now, she had something so primal and personal to hold over me. Rachel felt her climax building, her breath quickening.

Her hand worked faster, her eyes fluttered closed as she reached the peak, her body spasming with pleasure. She bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

The moment of release was intense, Rachel's head dropping back, her hand still between her legs. The thrill of her victory over me, the thought of me naked and humiliated, it all culminated in a powerful orgasm that left her panting.

[Lola]

Great idea for a story! When she says "Don't you think it would be better if I handled this one?" and stares at his crotch is pretty hot

[Hooked6]

Great story. Will there be a second chapter?

Hooked6

[Skylar21]

I do enjoy a good blackmail story. Lots of possibilities here for further humiliation.

[BABYRYAN2121]

yes please continue this one! more forced photographs please!

[NudeBaG]

Oof!
Not a fan of SPH,
But maybe he’s a grower, not a shower?

[littl1p]

I liked it. Great SPH and her sadistic mind is fun. I’d love to read part 2

[jllash]

Chapter 2

The days at work after Rachel's power play were a blur of forced smiles and stolen glances. Every time she walked by my desk, I felt like my heart was in a vice, squeezing tighter with every step she took. She had me in a chokehold, and she knew it. I avoided her as much as possible, hoping it would somehow go away on its own, but Rachel was not one to let something like this go.

One afternoon, she sailed up to my desk, her heels clacking against the floor. "Hey," she said, her voice a little too bright. "I need your help with the presentation."

My stomach sank. Rachel had never asked for my help before. I knew she was up to something, but I couldn't risk saying no. "Sure," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Rachel leaned in, her perfume wafting towards me. "Great," she said, her voice a purr. "Let's do it in my office."

I followed her into her office, the door clicking shut behind us. Rachel sat down at her desk, her legs crossed, watching me as I hovered awkwardly by the door. "Take a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

I sat down, my mind racing. What did she want? Another round of humiliation? More demands? Rachel leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips. She slid the project brief across the desk towards me, her eyes never leaving my face. "Take a look at this," she said, "and tell me what you think."

My eyes scanned the pages, trying to focus on the words. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent reminder of her control. Rachel's eyes twinkled with amusement as she watched me squirm.

"I... uh... I think it looks good," I said, trying to keep my voice even.

"But do you?" Rachel's voice was a purr, her eyes never leaving mine. "Because if there's any problem, I'll make sure you pay for it," she said.

My heart thudded in my chest as her words sank in. Rachel had the upper hand, and she was going to make sure I knew it. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I-it all looks good to me," I croaked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

Rachel leaned back in her chair, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. "Are you sure you don't want to take a second, more thorough look?," she asked.

I nodded frantically, not trusting myself to speak. Rachel's smug smile grew wider. "Good boy," she murmured, the term of endearment sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

As I painstakingly reviewed each page of the presentation, Rachel leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed, watching me intently. Her foot began to swing back and forth, the toe of her shoe tapping out a rhythm that matched the erratic beating of my heart. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made it difficult to focus on the words in front of me. The layout was pristine, the bullet points precise. There wasn't a typo to be found, no glaring errors in the data. Rachel had done her homework, and she knew it.

My eyes darted back and forth over the slides, searching for something, anything, she might have missed. But the more I searched, the more I was convinced it was perfect. The presentation was flawless.

"Well?" Rachel's voice snapped me out of my daze, her eyes boring into me. I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her stare on me. "Find any issues?"

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady. "No, it looks... perfect."

Rachel's smile grew even more smug. "Good," she said, "Now, you're dismissed."

I practically bolted out of the office, the door closing with a finality that echoed through the hallways. I couldn't believe it was over. For now, at least. I felt a strange mix of relief and dread, unsure of what Rachel would do if the presentation didn't go well.

The next day, Rachel strutted into work, the epitome of confidence. This was the day of her presentation, winning over this client would be incredible for her career. The tension in the office was palpable, everyone knowing the stakes were high.

As the client entered and we all made our way into the conference room, she began her presentation, Rachel's voice was confident, professional, smooth and captivating. The client, a stern, middle-aged man, sat with his arms crossed, his eyes glued to her.

The slides flew by, Rachel's words painting a picture of success and growth, but as she reached the final section, she stumbled. A question, something she hadn't anticipated, threw her off balance. The room grew quiet, the air thick with anticipation. Rachel paused, her eyes flicking to me, searching for a lifeline.

The question had caught me off guard as well, and all I could manage was to weakly shrug my shoulders at her.

"Can you tell us about the long-term scalability of your proposed strategy?" the client repeated, his tone skeptical. Rachel's confidence wavered, the first crack in her armor. I felt a mix of emotions, a strange thrill, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as invincible as I'd thought, but also dread, that she was going to take it out on me.

Rachel cleared her throat, "Of course," she began, her voice slightly shaky. "We've done extensive research and..." she trailed off, her mind racing for an answer that wasn't in her notes.

The client's eyebrows furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. Rachel's cheeks flushed as she stumbled through a response, her usual poise slipping away.

"Thank you, Rachel," our boss interrupted smoothly, sensing Rachel's distress. "I think we've covered a lot of ground today. Why don't we reconvene tomorrow for a more in-depth discussion on the scalability aspect?"

The client's expression softened, and Rachel's shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in the room dissipating like a popped balloon. She nodded in agreement, her eyes darting to me briefly before returning to the client. "Absolutely," she said, her voice stronger now. "We'll be more than prepared for your questions."

The meeting concluded with a forced round of handshakes and smiles, the client leaving the room with a sense of uncertainty that hung in the air like a thick fog.

As soon as the door clicked shut, our boss spun around to face Rachel, her eyes narrowed in a way that could cut glass. "What the hell was that?" she barked, her voice echoing off the walls. Rachel's smug demeanor slipped away, replaced by a look of genuine concern.

"I-I'm sorry," Rachel stuttered, her voice uncharacteristically meek. "I didn't think they'd ask about scalability so soon."

Our boss's glare didn't waver. "You're the one who insisted on presenting today," she said, her voice sharp as a tack. "You should have been ready for anything. This is a major client, Rachel. You can't just wing it."

Rachel's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "I know," she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "It won't happen again. I'll stay late tonight and prepare for anything."

Our boss's expression softened a bit, but the warning was clear. "See that it doesn't," she said before storming out of the conference room, leaving Rachel and I standing there awkwardly.

Rachel turned to me. She glared, and I sense of dread washed over me. "You," she said, her voice cold, "You're working late with me."

I nodded, unable to find the words to protest. The thought of being alone with her, especially after the events of the day, filled me with a mix of fear and anticipation. She had the power, and she wasn't afraid to use it.

Later that night, the office was eerily quiet, the only sounds the hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of the city outside. I had been feverishly preparing the second presentation, trying to cover everything I could think of when I heard Rachel's heels click against the floor as she strode over to me, her hips swaying with purpose. She was dressed in her outfit from the presentation, a form-fitting skirt and blouse that highlighted her curves, and the authority in her stride was impossible to ignore.

When she approached my desk I began to apologize for how the presentation went, "Sorry Rachel, I had no idea th-".

"Stop," she snapped, cutting off my apology before it could even begin. "Your clothes," she held out the palm of her hand, her voice a mix of anger and irritation, and her eyes narrowed as she stared down at me.

I swallowed hard, my eyes darting around the office. It was late, but the thought of being caught by another coworker was terrifying. Yet, Rachel's grip on the situation was absolute, and I had no choice but to comply. I began to strip, my hands shaking as I unbuttoned my shirt and handed it to her. She took it with a smug look.

Her eyes traveled down my body as I removed my shoes and socks, then my pants, handing all of them to her. The look on her face remained irritated, and I felt a strange thrill in the pit of my stomach. I was completely naked now, except for my boxers.

"Everything," Rachel said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I took a deep breath, clasped my hand over my privates, and pulled down my boxers, letting them drop to the floor. Rachel's eyes flickered over my body, taking in my nakedness with a mix of amusement and disdain.

She held out her hand for my boxers, and I handed them over.

"Now," Rachel said, "I want you to sit down and think of every possible question the client could ask about the project. And don't forget, your job is to make sure I don't look like an idiot in the morning."

With that, she turned on her heel and returned to her office, my clothes in hand, shutting the door with a firm click. I sat there, utterly exposed and humiliated, but there was no time to dwell on it. Rachel had given me a task, and I knew I had to perform it flawlessly. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the job at hand, pushing aside the embarrassment that clung to me.

My mind raced as I scribbled down question after question on a pad of paper, my heart pounding with each stroke. What if the client asked about budget constraints? What if they wanted to know the timeline for deliverables? Each scenario was met with a potential response.

Then, I heard it: the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking against the linoleum floor down the hall. My stomach dropped as I realized someone else was here. Panic set in, and I frantically scanned my surroundings, it was an open office plan that left little to cover myself with.

With no time to spare, I scrambled under my desk and pulled the office chair against it, creating a flimsy barricade. I was hidden but my heart hammered in my chest as the footsteps grew closer, and then stopped outside Rachel's office as they knocked on her door.

I heard her office door open. "Hey Rach," the unmistakable voice of our boss, Mrs. Emerson echoed down the hall.

Rachel's tone was immediately professional. "Oh, Mrs. Emerson. I didn't know you were still here," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

"Just wanted to check back in before I headed out," our boss said. "How's the preparation for the big presentation coming along?"

"Almost there," Rachel said, her confidence not missing a beat. "I've got everything under control, and I've enlisted the help of Jim to take on some preparation."

My mind races, trying to piece together what was happening. Why had Rachel mentioned my name? She knew I was naked! Did she want our boss to catch me naked?! The footsteps grew louder as they approached my desk. My heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of my chest.

"Great," Mrs. Emerson said, "I know you know how much this means to our business."

As Rachel nodded, my heart pounded louder than the heels on the floor. The footsteps grew closer, and I held my breath, willing myself to become invisible.

Mrs. Emerson's eyes scanning the desk. "Did Jim finish up early?"

My heart skipped a beat as Rachel's gaze flicked to the chair, then to the floor. She paused, realizing I was probably hiding under the desk. She smirked, knowing the power she held over me in that moment. "Oh, he must have stepped out," Rachel said smoothly, picking up the notes I had been taking. "But he left these preparation questions I had asked him for," she added, holding up the pages.

Mrs. Emerson nodded, glancing down at the notes. "Good initiative," she said, her eyes never leaving Rachel's face. "I'll be expecting a well-prepared presentation tomorrow."

As the footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, and Rachel let out a small chuckle.

"You can come out now," she said, her voice filled with a smugness that I'd grown all too familiar with. I tentatively peeked out from under the desk, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Rachel was standing over me, her phone pointing at me.

My heart stopped as I saw the flash, and the unmistakable sound of a camera click filled the room. I stared up at her in horror as she lowered the phone, her grin widening. "Let's add this to the collection," Rachel said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Please, Rachel," I pleaded, my voice shaking as I stood up, holding my hands over my privates. "Don't do that."

"You should be thanking me for not exposing your ass back there," she smirked, "Consider this your payment."

"Now, let's get down to business," she said, her voice cool and professional. "Are these all the questions?"

I nodded, still trying to cover myself as best as I could, my heart racing. Rachel took the paper from me, her eyes scanning the list. "Good," she murmured.

"Now, let's go through them," Rachel said, her tone switching from playful to all business. She sat on the edge of the desk, her legs crossed, and began to quiz me.

I felt more exposed than ever as Rachel fired off question after question. I was painfully aware of my nakedness, my mind racing to form coherent answers while trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. Her eyes glanced between the paper and my body, she was fully aware of my exposed state and was enjoying the power she had over me, watching me squirm with every inquiry about the project.

"Now, tell me," Rachel began, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and power, "What was the question the client asked that tripped me up in my presentation?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing to recall the details of the project while my hands remained firmly over my privates, the only cover I had. Rachel had a way of making even the simplest of questions feel like a trap. "Um, he asked about growing the social media presence," I replied, my voice shaking slightly.

Rachel's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. "No, that's not right," she said, her tone irritated, "Were you even paying attention?"

I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. Rachel was pushing me to the edge, and I knew I had to get this right. My hands remained stubbornly glued to my body, but Rachel wasn't having it. She snapped her fingers, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Put your hands at your sides," she ordered, her voice as cold as steel.

I hesitated for a moment, my eyes darting to the door, then back to Rachel's annoyed expression. With trembling arms, I slowly lowered my hands to my sides, my penis fully exposed to her gaze. Rachel's eyes flicked down, taking in the sight of my vulnerability before returning to my face, a glint of triumph in her eyes. "Still so small," she teased. "Again," her voice a little softer now, a hint of a purr. "What was the question?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my thoughts from racing too fast. "The client wanted to know the long term scalability of our strategy," I said, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. Rachel leaned back in her chair, her eyes still on my naked form.

"Good," she said with a smirk. "Now, tell me how you would answer that question if you were in my position."

I took a deep breath, trying to compose my thoughts while feeling utterly exposed. Rachel's eyes never left my cock and balls, watching my every reaction with a mix of amusement and calculation. "Well, I'd explain how we plan to incrementally increase engagement metrics while simultaneously developing a robust content strategy that allows for future expansion," I began, hoping my voice sounded more confident than I felt.

Her smile grew wider, clearly enjoying the situation she had me in. "Good," Rachel said, nodding. "But let's say the client is skeptical. How do we prove that we're not just throwing darts at a board?"

"We could provide case studies," I offered, my voice wavering slightly. "Show them the success we've had with similar campaigns in the past."

Rachel tapped her pen against the desk, considering my answer. "That's a start," she said, her eyes still on my crotch. "But we need something more... concrete. Something that shows we've really thought this through."

I gulped, my cheeks burning. "We could offer a detailed timeline," I suggested, trying to ignore the way Rachel's eyes were raking over me. "Outline the steps we'll take to ensure sustainable growth, with clear milestones and deliverables."

Rachel's smile grew. "I like that," she said, her eyes never leaving my exposed genitals as she kicked off her shoe and raised her foot, extending it until it pressed lightly against my penis and balls. "But what if they want to see some numbers? You know, to make sure we're not just talking out of our asses?"

I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation despite her foot on my cock. "We could create a detailed financial model," I suggested, my voice wavering as Rachel's foot caressed my crotch. "It'll show projected revenues, costs, and profit margins over a five-year period."

Rachel's toes curled slightly, applying gentle pressure. "But that's just numbers," she said, her voice a low purr. "They want to know we've got the expertise to back it up. Convince me."

My mind raced as Rachel's foot began to rub in a slow, teasing motion. I felt my cock respond against my will, growing hard under her touch. "We can present case studies of similar projects," I stammered, my voice thick with arousal and embarrassment. "We'll show them the strategies we've used before, and how they led to successful outcomes."

Rachel's eyes lit up at the sight of my erection, her smirk deepening. "Well, well, well, not so small now," she said, her voice filled with mock amazement as she lowered her foot and put her shoe back on.

"I-I just..." I stuttered, my face burning with embarrassment. Rachel just chuckled, clearly enjoying the power she had over me. "Good," she said, her voice returning to its usual cool confidence. "Looks like we've had enough preparation for now. Let's call it a night."

Without waiting for a response, Rachel turned and walked back to her office, her hips swaying with every step. I followed her tentatively, clasping my hands over my crotch again, hoping to get my clothes back as soon as I could, the cold air of the office making me acutely aware of my nakedness. Rachel walked into her office and glanced back at me, confused towards why I was following her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice filled with amusement.

"I, uh, I need my clothes," I replied, feeling the heat spread from my face to my chest. Rachel's eyebrows shot up in surprise before understanding dawned on her. A grin spread on her face and she chuckled, "Oh, right, forgot I had these."

The sound of key jingled as she unlocked a drawer in her desk, pulling my clothes out of it and tossing them on her desk, the pile landing with a soft thud. "You can get dressed now," she said, her tone still laced with amusement.

I hurried over to the desk, snatching my clothes up, and began to dress as quickly as I could. Rachel took a seat in her chair, watching me with a smug expression, her legs crossed and her arms folded over her chest. She didn't bother to hide her satisfaction as she took in the sight of me fumbling with my clothes, trying to cover up my embarrassment.

"Well, that was quite the performance," Rachel said once I was dressed. "Now you best hope the presentation tomorrow goes well, or else things won't look good for you."

I nodded in understanding and quickly left the room, eager to end this humiliation.

The day of the presentation dawned with a knot in my stomach, but Rachel walked into the conference room like a lioness claiming her throne. She handled every question with confidence.

The room was filled with the buzz of excitement and anticipation. Rachel's poise was unshakeable, and her words flowed like a well-rehearsed symphony. The client leaned in, captivated by her every word, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration despite the circumstances.

As Rachel wrapped up her presentation with a flourish, the client nodded in agreement. "We'd be thrilled to move forward with this project," he said, extending a hand to Rachel. "Your insights and strategies are exactly what we're looking for."

Rachel's eyes gleamed with triumph as she shook his hand firmly. "Thank you so much," she said, "We're all looking forward to making this happen."

As our boss Mrs. Emerson led the client out of the conference room, she turned to Rachel, her own smile beaming with pride. "Excellent work, Rachel," she said, patting Rachel on the shoulder. Rachel beamed back, basking in the praise.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Rachel's expression shifted back to the amused dominance that had become so familiar to me. "Looks like you brought the team luck," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "What's that supposed to mean?" I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Rachel's smirk grew wider. "Oh, just that maybe your little 'waxing' brought us good luck," she said, her eyes dancing with amusement. "And I mean, maybe having you strip was the kind of dominance mindset I needed to land the presentation. If you think about it, maybe your nudity was like a... sacrifice to the business gods."

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the humiliation rising in me. "Can this be the last time we do this?" I asked, my voice tight.

Rachel smirked, "Well, unless you want those photos to get out, you're going to do exactly what I say," she replied, her tone still light but with an edge of steel. "And I have to admit, it did make me perform better, so why stop now?"

Her words hit me like a slap in the face, but I couldn't deny the twisted logic. Rachel had me in the palm of her hand, and she knew it.

[Skylar21]

Looks like our guy has a new position in the company - naked lucky charm!

[Hooked6]

Great chapter; full of tension and erotic content. Your writing was just marvelous.

I loved that Mrs. Emerson made a late night appearance while Jim was working at his desk completely naked. When Rachel mentioned that he was there helping, Jim's reaction was priceless!

I can't wait for the next chapter!

Hooked6

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