Chapter 6: The Office

Angela sat in the passenger seat on the way to Mark’s office, feeling almost normal. Her feet were bare, which was a little weird, and obviously she wasn’t wearing any underwear—that seemed especially hard to come by today—but she was covered now, and that was the main thing. Mark had to make a stop to enter the code written across her body into a computer, and then he said he’d drive her home.

“Do you wanna, maybe, uh, hang out some time?” Mark asked her, trying to sound cool and aloof. “I’ll make sure my mother’s not home.”

Angela scowled internally, but kept her face neutral. So he wanted her to come back to his place. To “hang out”. And he didn’t say it, but she got the insinuation that the dress code, for her, would be the same as this first visit. Even now, Mark was probably thinking about how she felt under his pen hand and hoping to jab her with a different long instrument.

No wining and dining for the little naked whore. Straight to business.

She glanced at his crotch. Difficult to tell from this angle, but she didn’t doubt her intuition. “I’ll let you know,” she said, cognizant of her need for him to drive her home later.

“Cool,” Mark said. He probably thought she meant it.

Mark pulled into the lot of his empty office building, swiping a key card at the entrance boom gate. He parked right in front of the building, and once again got out to open the door for Angela.

“This’ll be quick, in and out.”

Marked swiped his key card to enter the main building, and led Angela up some stairs and then down a long, winding hallway. To both sides, she saw big open-plan office rooms with rows and rows of cheap desks, swivel chairs and computer screens. Her bare feet tread noiselessly on the gray carpet.

They came to an office at the end of the hall, which Mark had to use a fingerprint scanner to get into. The room contained a single computer with a large screen against one of the walls. Beneath a screen was a small, cheap keyboard on a rickety desk.

Mark walked up to the computer and tapped the space bar a few times to wake the screen up. Then he entered a password, and some commands. A minute or two later, the screen filled with a giant prompt, which read, “ENTER CODE”.

“Okay, we need the code,” Mark said, looking back at Angela.

Angela checked around the room. She didn’t see any cameras, and Mark had assured her that his office didn’t have CCTV when she’d asked. They were on the fourth floor, so it was unlikely that anyone would be peeking through the windows either. And in any case, the blinds were all drawn.

None of that made what she was about to do all that much easier. Slowly, with shaking hands, Angela undid the top button of the dress shirt. This was the longest she’d been fully covered since the start of this ordeal, and now she was taking her clothes off again. It was even worse than if she’d just been naked the whole time.

“This thing has a timer, Angela,” Mark said, when she was halfway down the shirt. “We don’t have all day.”

Angela sniffed, suppressing a tear, and quickly undid the rest of the buttons. Then she shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, and let it fall with her wrists still in the sleeves, like a glamour model posing for a pin-up shot. She turned around so that Mark could see the writing on her back.

Mark thanked her, and started typing. She’d seen him type quite fast earlier, but now he was slowly pecking the keys between long looks at her.

“I thought there was a timer,” she said.

“Gotta make sure I get this right. Take a step back.”

She did so, and felt a finger on her back. Mark was tracing the lines. The pace of his keyboard tapping increased.

Mark’s finger traveled lower and lower down her back, till he was poking her butt. Then the typing seemed to slow down again.

“Hey!” Angela cried. “Don’t enjoy this so much! And hover that finger!”

Mark, chastened, did as he was told. He typed a few more characters, and then paused.

“Why did you stop?” Angela asked.

“The last few letters are covered up.”

She knew what that meant. With a sigh, Angela pulled up her arms and let the shirt fall from her wrists. The typing resumed.

“Turn around,” Mark said.

Angela did as she was told. Now she was facing Mark, from mere inches away, with her arms at her sides. His eyes were glued to her, and it took a minute for him to start typing again. He reached out a guiding hand.

“None of that!” Angela snapped, slapping away a finger that was coming perilously close to her chest. “That real estate is off-limits.” Of course, Mark had already written across her boobs, but she couldn’t just let him touch them again.

Mark’s typing was slower, but he obeyed her wishes. Having something go her own way for once today made Angela feel a little better about presenting herself so openly to a casual acquaintance she was coming to dislike.

At last, the code was completed. Mark pressed Enter on the keyboard, and the computer churned for a few minutes, before flashing a bright green check mark. A mechanical female voice said, “Authorization code accepted. Please destroy this code at once.”

Mark smiled at Angela. “Thanks for your help. I forgot to mention, you’re going to have to clean that off.”

“Well duh.” Angela made a face. “Of course I’m going to clean this mess off!”

Mark’s face was hard and serious. “I mean now. There’s a shower in downstairs, three doors to your right.”

That was a bit weird, but Angela supposed it would be okay. A shower sounded kind of nice, honestly. She bent down to pick up her shirt, but Mark was standing on it.