Part 5: The Beginning of the End
Ritu woke up with a broad grin on her face. She felt satisfied – mentally, physically, and sexually. But she was in a dilemma. As she got into the shower, Ritu could not fathom whether the grin on her face was due to the fact that she realized that she hadn’t been actually forced by guys in her office, that she had dreamt the whole thing OR that she had actually remembered the entire dream, that she was masturbating in the shower, replaying the whole dream in her mind.
The answer to her dilemma was clear as she masturbated herself to one of her biggest orgasms since a long long time. Then, for the first time in her career spanning over twenty years, she wore a sleeveless blouse to work.
The guys in her office were in for a show that day.
Before going to work, she hurriedly logged in to her FB account, and changed her DP. She put up a photo of her at her nieces’ wedding; in which she was wearing a yellow designer saree with a single layer of transparent paloo, clearing showing all the details of her yellow sleeveless matching blouse underneath.
This was necessary for her plan to identify “rituslut”.
**************************************
Part 6: Looking Forward to a Happy New Year
The previous ten days had been a blur for Ritu. Mentally overwhelmed by ‘her’ thread on Xossip, she was bordering on physical exhaustion too. Sleeping only a couple of hours each night, she browsed through the vulgar comments showered on to her photos by her ‘fans’. The whole event was akin to an enthralling adventure in the mundane life of this office boss.
As expected, her new DP on FB (the yellow saree one) had quickly found itself to the pages of the thread. There, it was decorated with the juiciest of comments, fit only for a cheap prostitute. But she, the sophisticated high-class office manager, had found a perverted sense of sexual pleasure in those comments.
“Randi form me aa gayi hai…” (Whore is in form now).
“Iske blouse ke hooks phaad do!” (Tear off the hooks on her blouse!)
“Is kutiya ke yummy mumme main poori raat choos sakta hoon” (I can suck on this bitch’s tasty breasts all night long).
Also, real-life photos that were being snapped in the office continued to make their presence felt on a regular basis. She had been trying her best in the office, on the alert for the snap of a camera, or a mobile phone purposely being pointed at her, in an attempt to recognize ”rituslut”. But all her efforts went in vain. There were too many people talking on their phones in that busy office, it was almost impossible to target each and every one of them.
Buoyed by the sexual interest she was attracting, Ritu went on to post more photos of her on her FB profile. She collected a variety of photos, one from a wedding of a distant relative, some house warming ceremony she had attended, her birthday, and so on; making sure there was some cleavage on display, or the clothes were tight enough to proudly display her wholesome curves. She had gradually uploaded them, one or two a day. Then, instead of checking for likes and comments on her FB page (which she used to do earlier), she went straight to Xossip to take in the vulgar comments as dirty whore!
“Randi ke chikne paer dikhao…” (Show us the whore’s smooth legs) was the requested by someone, and she, as if she was proud of her whore-ness, promptly uploaded a photo that had been taken on her birthday. In that photo, she had worn a knee length pleated skirt, her smooth legs shining in the flash of the camera.
Ritu started doing something which she had never expected she would do in her lifetime. She began masturbating in her office room itself; at the same place, on the same desk, where she had dreamt her humiliating force.
Such was her obsession with this newly found activity that she began to lose track of the reality.
Although her sexual energy had found a much need reprise, her mental and physical state was in a mess. Official work began to fall behind schedule. Deadlines were being missed; important activities were being side-lined. Sensing a lack of interest by their Branch Manager, her employees had started to take their work a bit too easy.
Then, Ritu was brought back to reality a little too harshly. The Zone Officer called her up after going through the previous fortnight’s report, and gave her a full blast of his mind. If you don’t get the work back on track by the end of this month, you will be out of that office, he threatened. It was the fifteenth of December.
Never before had Ritu been admonished by her superiors, for her work had never lacked behind. She could not believe that she was the same woman who had worked so hard for the past so many years. Embarrassed, and disappointed in herself, she made sure to get Xossip out of her head and decided never to visit it again. The website was responsible for her pathetic condition.
On the 16th, first day of the new week (fifteen days before New Years’), Ritu called in a whole office meeting. She gave them the scolding of their lifetime, shouting and losing temper at their casualness. She cancelled all leaves for Christmas and New Years’; making it clear that it was on her employees to bring back the level of excellence her office was known for. All remaining days in that year would be working days.
Her employees could not believe the harsh punishment that had been melted out to them, that too at no fault of theirs. Sulking, they went back to their cubicles, and digested the fact that they had been robbed of their holidays for no apparent reason.
They continued with their work as if nothing had happened. But underneath their passive faces, a cloud of frustration was taking form.
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It was the 28th of December. Ritu was in her office room, checking the work of the previous fortnight. The end of month closing was just three days away; she wanted to make up for the previous fiasco with an on-time report, and get back into the good books of her superiors.
She heard a knock on her door. It was Pratik, one of her Assistant Branch Managers.
“Good morning ma’am,” he cheerfully said. She just nodded without looking up, irritated at the interruption.
He continued in the same happy tone, “Ma’am, we are planning to have the New Years’ Eve party…” Dazed, she looked up at him as he explained the location (some resort on the highway) and the arrangements that were being made for the party.
Oh shit! She had completely forgotten about the New Years’ party the company organized for its employees every year. Thankfully, Pratik had taken care of the arrangements. She was a bit relieved.
“Okay, good planning,” she said, as if all she had been thinking about was this stupid party, “make sure that a driver picks me up that evening, as my husband will be out of station and I can’t drive all by myself to such a far place on the highway.”
It was as if words got struck in Pratik’s throat. He fished for words to speak. “So…uummnnn…Sir would…not be joining us?” he managed to blabber.
“No!” she replied in an increasingly irritated tone, “Is there a problem?”
She saw him shift nervously before he said, “No…problem…no…the driver will pick you from your house at 7 PM.” But what she didn’t see was his Assistant Branch Manager gulp down a huge amount of saliva, as if a hungry wolf had spotted its prey.
Absent-mindedly, Ritu’s mind went to deciding what dress would be appropriate for the occasion.
Ritu woke up with a broad grin on her face. She felt satisfied – mentally, physically, and sexually. But she was in a dilemma. As she got into the shower, Ritu could not fathom whether the grin on her face was due to the fact that she realized that she hadn’t been actually forced by guys in her office, that she had dreamt the whole thing OR that she had actually remembered the entire dream, that she was masturbating in the shower, replaying the whole dream in her mind.
The answer to her dilemma was clear as she masturbated herself to one of her biggest orgasms since a long long time. Then, for the first time in her career spanning over twenty years, she wore a sleeveless blouse to work.
The guys in her office were in for a show that day.
Before going to work, she hurriedly logged in to her FB account, and changed her DP. She put up a photo of her at her nieces’ wedding; in which she was wearing a yellow designer saree with a single layer of transparent paloo, clearing showing all the details of her yellow sleeveless matching blouse underneath.
This was necessary for her plan to identify “rituslut”.
**************************************
Part 6: Looking Forward to a Happy New Year
The previous ten days had been a blur for Ritu. Mentally overwhelmed by ‘her’ thread on Xossip, she was bordering on physical exhaustion too. Sleeping only a couple of hours each night, she browsed through the vulgar comments showered on to her photos by her ‘fans’. The whole event was akin to an enthralling adventure in the mundane life of this office boss.
As expected, her new DP on FB (the yellow saree one) had quickly found itself to the pages of the thread. There, it was decorated with the juiciest of comments, fit only for a cheap prostitute. But she, the sophisticated high-class office manager, had found a perverted sense of sexual pleasure in those comments.
“Randi form me aa gayi hai…” (Whore is in form now).
“Iske blouse ke hooks phaad do!” (Tear off the hooks on her blouse!)
“Is kutiya ke yummy mumme main poori raat choos sakta hoon” (I can suck on this bitch’s tasty breasts all night long).
Also, real-life photos that were being snapped in the office continued to make their presence felt on a regular basis. She had been trying her best in the office, on the alert for the snap of a camera, or a mobile phone purposely being pointed at her, in an attempt to recognize ”rituslut”. But all her efforts went in vain. There were too many people talking on their phones in that busy office, it was almost impossible to target each and every one of them.
Buoyed by the sexual interest she was attracting, Ritu went on to post more photos of her on her FB profile. She collected a variety of photos, one from a wedding of a distant relative, some house warming ceremony she had attended, her birthday, and so on; making sure there was some cleavage on display, or the clothes were tight enough to proudly display her wholesome curves. She had gradually uploaded them, one or two a day. Then, instead of checking for likes and comments on her FB page (which she used to do earlier), she went straight to Xossip to take in the vulgar comments as dirty whore!
“Randi ke chikne paer dikhao…” (Show us the whore’s smooth legs) was the requested by someone, and she, as if she was proud of her whore-ness, promptly uploaded a photo that had been taken on her birthday. In that photo, she had worn a knee length pleated skirt, her smooth legs shining in the flash of the camera.
Ritu started doing something which she had never expected she would do in her lifetime. She began masturbating in her office room itself; at the same place, on the same desk, where she had dreamt her humiliating force.
Such was her obsession with this newly found activity that she began to lose track of the reality.
Although her sexual energy had found a much need reprise, her mental and physical state was in a mess. Official work began to fall behind schedule. Deadlines were being missed; important activities were being side-lined. Sensing a lack of interest by their Branch Manager, her employees had started to take their work a bit too easy.
Then, Ritu was brought back to reality a little too harshly. The Zone Officer called her up after going through the previous fortnight’s report, and gave her a full blast of his mind. If you don’t get the work back on track by the end of this month, you will be out of that office, he threatened. It was the fifteenth of December.
Never before had Ritu been admonished by her superiors, for her work had never lacked behind. She could not believe that she was the same woman who had worked so hard for the past so many years. Embarrassed, and disappointed in herself, she made sure to get Xossip out of her head and decided never to visit it again. The website was responsible for her pathetic condition.
On the 16th, first day of the new week (fifteen days before New Years’), Ritu called in a whole office meeting. She gave them the scolding of their lifetime, shouting and losing temper at their casualness. She cancelled all leaves for Christmas and New Years’; making it clear that it was on her employees to bring back the level of excellence her office was known for. All remaining days in that year would be working days.
Her employees could not believe the harsh punishment that had been melted out to them, that too at no fault of theirs. Sulking, they went back to their cubicles, and digested the fact that they had been robbed of their holidays for no apparent reason.
They continued with their work as if nothing had happened. But underneath their passive faces, a cloud of frustration was taking form.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the 28th of December. Ritu was in her office room, checking the work of the previous fortnight. The end of month closing was just three days away; she wanted to make up for the previous fiasco with an on-time report, and get back into the good books of her superiors.
She heard a knock on her door. It was Pratik, one of her Assistant Branch Managers.
“Good morning ma’am,” he cheerfully said. She just nodded without looking up, irritated at the interruption.
He continued in the same happy tone, “Ma’am, we are planning to have the New Years’ Eve party…” Dazed, she looked up at him as he explained the location (some resort on the highway) and the arrangements that were being made for the party.
Oh shit! She had completely forgotten about the New Years’ party the company organized for its employees every year. Thankfully, Pratik had taken care of the arrangements. She was a bit relieved.
“Okay, good planning,” she said, as if all she had been thinking about was this stupid party, “make sure that a driver picks me up that evening, as my husband will be out of station and I can’t drive all by myself to such a far place on the highway.”
It was as if words got struck in Pratik’s throat. He fished for words to speak. “So…uummnnn…Sir would…not be joining us?” he managed to blabber.
“No!” she replied in an increasingly irritated tone, “Is there a problem?”
She saw him shift nervously before he said, “No…problem…no…the driver will pick you from your house at 7 PM.” But what she didn’t see was his Assistant Branch Manager gulp down a huge amount of saliva, as if a hungry wolf had spotted its prey.
Absent-mindedly, Ritu’s mind went to deciding what dress would be appropriate for the occasion.