The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Journal — Week 5

Today unfolded even better than expected. Mr. Wilson gave me an important promotion with great authority and responsibility.

At first I did not truly understand the honor of my new position, but once Mr. Wilson explained it in more detail now I know my promotion offers a wonderful opportunity.

He placed his hands on my shoulders while we talked, sometimes idly running them up and down my arms. He is just a tactile person and it is fine if he touches me like that. It even feels comforting.

My work on the brochure impressed both him and the management team of our customer, who recently acquired an internet mail-order company after it went bust owing them quite a large amount of money. They want Wilson Industries to help them revamp the new acquisition.

Mr. Wilson decided me ideally suited, following the work I did with their brochure, to help revamp the presentation of the newly acquired company’s product catalog on their website. He tasked me with identifying which products should be highlighted, which should be discontinued, how the products should be presented, and what prices to charge.

Such a promotion represented a tremendous responsibility. I felt extremely pleased and excited about the job, mostly because it demonstrated that Mr. Wilson really did think me executive material.

He said that due to the importance of this new position and with the authority required of me, I must also accept responsibility. Looking me straight in the eyes, he explained it part of his advanced executive training program. Before this point he shouldered the liability for my work, but from now on I must take ownership. I must account for any mistakes I make, and assume responsibility.

I felt pretty fired up, he put a lot of trust in me, and I wanted to prove him correct. So, of course I met his gaze and told him I will accept responsibility. His eyes seemed to glimmer as he smiled.

Over the years, he explained, he devised an incentive program for trainee executives. Rather than fire a trainee for a mistake, he came up with a way to encourage improvement. He believed that corporal punishment provided the right incentive.

It shocked me a bit at first when he told me, but now I understand the rationale and it makes a lot of sense. He explained how corporal punishment got used for centuries as a teaching tool and only our recent and overblown ‘political correctness’ discouraged its use. He reasoned how just because some teachers went a little too far when using corporal punishment on their students that one should not necessarily rule out the technique. Also, part of the past problems with the method was that we agreed it should not be used on children. Of course that was not a concern with an adult so he found it an ideal training technique for his advanced executive-training program.

Obviously I have been conditioned to believe that corporal punishment is wrong, but when he patiently explained it while looking me deep in the eyes I realized this was just another example of rules that apply to normal people. Those of us destined for stellar careers in high management positions must be prepared to break with mundane conventions.

Naturally, he told me I must be comfortable with the idea, that if I was not happy to sign up to the training program then he would not be disappointed at all, but then of course he could not with good conscience let me take up this new position.

Well of course, I desperately wanted the promotion and in no way would I let a little thing like that to stop me grabbing it firmly with both hands.

Once I agreed to the conditions for assuming full responsibility during Mr. Wilson’s executive-training program, he smiled and praised my good sense, running his hands along my arms and sides for emphasis. He clearly seemed extremely pleased that I will work on this important project for Wilson Industries. I smiled too, sharing in his happiness.

After lunch he took me through the current web site and product catalogue for the company we were tasked with revamping.

Called ‘Penelope’s Pleasures’ the company turned out to be a fetish and sex toy company. Their products ranged from ordinary vibrators through leather and PVC clothing to whips, chains, and bondage gear.

I felt most uncomfortable with the idea of dealing with these kinky products. I always deplored the deviants who buy and use such items, and at first I felt wary about whether or not I actually wanted to help the company back on its feet.

When I discussed my concerns with Mr. Wilson, he of course understood my worries, he is a wise man after all. He pointed out how it does not matter whether a company sells potatoes or computers, bottled water or vibrators, the important thing that the executives make the company as efficient and profitable as possible. And besides, we remained consultants. We did not work in the sex toy industry ourselves, we were in the consultancy business, so I need not worry about it.

Of course I knew all that in theory, but in practice I clearly was not ready to accept it yet. However, after I discussed it with Mr. Wilson I did come to understand that I must not be concerned about the products—the important thing was to do the best job I could to put the company back on its feet so that Wilson Industries makes a profit and confirms our position with an important client.

By the end of the day I was fully on board having realized just what a wonderful opportunity this represents for me. If I can pull this off it will build a great case study for my CV to demonstrate my executive skills.

While I still hold some reservations about the products that Penelope’s Pleasures sells, I cannot let that distract me.

Today began my first proper day working on the project. I spent the morning working through the online product catalog trying to familiarize myself with the products.

Actually it all seemed fairly bizarre. I just could not really wrap my head around the kinky products or why anyone might want to buy them. But Mr. Wilson helped a lot. He stopped by a couple times to talk and give advice.

He sat close beside me so that we could both look at the computer screen. I noticed his aftershave, a pleasant aroma. I recalled smelling it last Friday when we rode in his car to the client presentation. That made me remember the presentation itself and then the exciting fantasies about it which I explored all weekend and every night since then. The memory made me flush. My heart began racing.

Mr. Wilson leaned in closer to see the screen better, placing an arm onto the back of my chair, moving closer, ending up right next to me, almost leaning onto me so that his other hand could reach the keyboard and mouse if needed.

His arm around the back of my chair happened to brush behind my neck. At that contact I involuntarily leaned forward a little, arching my back slightly. That caused my ample breasts to push forward, straining my tight blouse.

A little daydream suddenly drifted into my thoughts right then—I imagined the strain caused a button to pop off my blouse and thus reveal my breasts to him. Oh that would feel embarrassing, but exciting too! My heart beat even faster.

I tried to focus on what he said. As he clicked around their website, Mr. Wilson explained how the main business for Penelope’s Pleasures was actually their fetish and bondage gear—which set them apart from some adult online shops. The women shown on the site modeling various products looked sexy and attractive, though often indecently dressed or not dressed at all.

Maybe the sexual nature of the images and material on the website made my mind turn naughty, but I could not help having more little sexy daydreams. My breathing deepened, growing rapid and perhaps a bit husky with arousal. I hope he did not notice.

I listened to what he said about their business, but at the same time my mind played around with fantasies. For instance, I imagined what it might be like if, rather than an accident causing my blouse to pop open, instead he told me to deliberately unbutton my shirt. Perhaps because, for some strange reason, we needed to compare my breasts to the models on the website.

So I imagined obediently opening my blouse and showing him my breasts, even letting him cup and lift them to judge their weight. In my fantasy he complimented my obedience, which sent a frisson of pleasure through me, knowing I pleased him. Oh, what a sexy daydream!

These fantasies started making me feel flushed and warm and I considered unbuttoning for real to cool down. When I feel warm I know it perfectly acceptable to undo buttons for comfort, so I did. That felt much better, and Mr. Wilson did not seem to mind—he concentrated on the website anyway, not looking at me. So I casually unfastened my blouse and felt deliciously naughty, even knowing it okay.

We moved onto the part of the product catalogue showing various leather and metal restraints. He kept explaining stuff about the site and I tried to follow along. They offered some very kinky products. I do not really understand why anyone finds it sexy to be tied up. Oh well, to each their own, I suppose.

He gave me the mouse and made me click through the various different product types, to acquire an overview and understanding of them. While I did, he rested his hand on my knee. That being the most natural place to rest his hand while he sat beside me and I held the mouse.

Soon he started idly, slowly, stroking his hand up and down my leg, just above my knee, a comforting gesture of encouragement while he helped me navigate the site. He is just a tactile person and so of course it is okay for him to touch me like that.

I continued navigating through the site, clicking where he told me, following his guidance. I found myself getting lost exploring the huge website so it was nice for Mr. Wilson to guide me.

While concentrating on learning the website I barely noticed his soft, stroking hand accidentally crept a little higher up my bare thigh, probably without him even thinking about it. This caused my legs to naturally shift position a little and my thighs unconsciously spread apart.

Only then did I realize that the way I sat in my chair, my skirt bunched up around my waist like usual, left my tiny thong clearly visible if he happened to look down. But he did not look down, his attention seemed focused on the computer screen.

His hand however, gradually shifted higher as he comfortingly stroked my upper thigh while talking about the website. I do not think he consciously even realized how high up my thigh his hand moved. But any higher and he would accidentally discover, through touch, how skimpy my thong.

That triggered a moment of fantasy daydream. I imagined him doing exactly that, his hand stroking upwards to accidentally brush between my legs. Then I wondered what it might be like if less of an accident.

Panting slightly, my heart racing, I imagined his hand moving purposefully to cup my mound, his fingertips deliberately rubbing up and down my barely-covered slit, exploring, stimulating me. My pussy lips swelling moist just from the thought of it. Imagining him rubbing my sensitive labia through my thin underwear, enticing my juices to flow, soaking my panties. Such an arousing fantasy, imagining my boss and mentor touching me sensually, making me so wet.

It still surprises me how I allowed myself this delightful little fantasy with my boss right there beside me while we worked through Penelope’s Pleasures’ current site. Fortunately, I guess he never looked down to see the growing wet spot in my panties, nor heard my slightly faster and huskier breathing, nor noticed the musky scent of my soaking wet pussy.

Rather difficult to concentrate on the job at hand while letting such naughty thoughts run through my mind, but I guess I managed to look focused. Mr. Wilson did not seem to think me distracted from our work. Hopefully he did not notice my state of arousal.

He did notice my happy, excited mood—I must have smiled or something—because Mr. Wilson complimented how I seemed to be getting into the job and finding it enjoyable. He seemed impressed at my turn-around in attitude since yesterday and called me a good girl for getting excited about the products and such, since I expressed reservations earlier.

And I guess he is right. No matter what products Penelope’s Pleasures sells, my job is to do whatever I can to help them be the most successful company that they can. It surprised me a little how he called me a ‘girl’ but honestly I suppose I am as far as he is concerned, so I did not feel put out by it. Overall I mostly just felt happy he was pleased.

We continued touring through the site. By then we looked at the wide selection of vibrators and dildos.

I am naïve when it comes to sex toys. While naturally I heard of them, I have never ever used one. While we looked through the product catalog I grew amazed at the variety. The site showed all sorts, in all sizes and shapes. Many of them forked in shape with lumps sticking off at interesting angles. Mr. Wilson explained how these lumps stimulate the clitoris.

I could not help but wonder what that might feel like. I imagined one of those vibrators purring away inside me with part of it pressed against my clit. Oh, how nice! My swollen nub certainly could have used some stimulation right then! Just thinking about it made my clit throb and my slick pussy grow even wetter.

After Mr. Wilson left I hurried to the ladies room to take off my soaked thong panties since they felt too uncomfortably wet. Relishing a bit in the thrill of sliding down my underwear, the waistband stretching around my curvy hips and past my smooth thighs as I bent over to push the tiny scrap of fabric down my legs and off.

Back at my desk the sensuous, musky aroma of my juices floated from my now exposed lap, reminding me how wet and now completely bare I was down there. Sitting at my desk without panties the rest of the day filled me with plenty more naughty fantasies.

I think these fantasies are partly due to my subconscious making me come to terms with the job I must perform to prove myself the professional executive I desperately want to be. I knew then that I must make myself do an excellent job for Penelope’s Pleasures no matter what I might think of their more extreme products.

So I let myself daydream. All day at work, my mind drifted in thought, imagining all kinds of naughty fantasies.

Later, at home, I explored today’s workday fantasies further. My favorite was imagining his fingers sliding up my leg and then along my slit. The mere thought of it extremely exciting and deeply arousing. I quivered and moaned while playing with myself, imagining his fingers dancing over my lacy thong.

In my fantasy, he firmly told me to slip my panties off. Of course my fantasy self behaves like a good trainee, obeying anything he tells me to do. Following his instructions gives me such a thrill. I imagined him praising my obedience and that made me shiver with pleasure.

Then I imagined his hand sliding back along my silky thigh to my now bare and eager pussy. I gasped when he touched me in my fantasy and I became putty in his hands while he played me like an instrument to a wonderful, powerful series of orgasms.

Oh god, what a day, what a day!

I made a costly mistake this morning. At first I made great progress deciding about changes to the site. But I guess I became a little over-confident.

While working through the bestselling dildos—honestly, I still find it weird to work with sex toys—and trying to decide the ideal items for a promotion to try and drum up more sales, I accidentally put a best-seller on sale for a tenth of the correct price: I mistyped the decimal place.

Luckily, Mr. Wilson spotted the mistake before it caused too much loss. I do not know how I managed to mess up like that since I was sure that I typed it right. But, when Mr. Wilson pointed it out to me, there it was. I guess I just lapsed careless.

Mr. Wilson did not seem angry—Such a great man to remain so self-controlled—but of course he did make sure to point out the seriousness of the mistake. The worst part though came when he expressed his disappointment with me. I suddenly felt terrible, knowing I let him down after he granted me such responsibility.

Part of me guessed what was coming, but it still shocked me when he said that he must punish me so I learn from my mistake. Since it was my first offense he said that he would let me off with a simple spanking.

I started to object: how could he expect me to submit to a spanking, the whole idea seemed just too humiliating.

However, he held up his hand to stop me and spent a few minutes reminding me of the training program that I agreed to and the importance of following all of its precepts if I wanted to progress and be trained further, which I do want very much. I want to be trained.

By the time he finished his lecture I felt contrite and could have kicked myself for making such a fool of myself. I acted like a child trying to get out of my punishment, when I should have quietly accepted it like a grown up, like a proper successful executive would have done.

I swore to myself that in the future I would not fuss—after all I made the mistake, therefore I should take the consequences. Better to avoid making mistakes in the first place than cry over Mr. Wilson’s justified punishment.

So reluctantly I lay myself over Mr. Wilson’s knees and he adjusted my position until he seemed happy. Not that I felt particularly happy about it. My head hung down near the floor and my breasts dangled underneath me; my blouse not really containing them. I could tell that my skirt rode very high and I felt humiliated knowing Mr. Wilson could see the tiny thong between my legs.

To my embarrassment, I found myself a little excited at that thought. I knew Mr. Wilson was not interested in looking, that this was purely part of his executive training program. But part of me wished he did want to look, and as I bent over his lap I could not help from imagining Mr. Wilson hungrily taking in the view of my sheer thong clinging to the shape of my vulva.

It only got worse. He took hold of the hem of my brief skirt, lifted it away from my bottom, folded the skirt up past my waist and then tucked it into my belt at the small of my back. He said that a proper spanking must always be done on the bare buttocks.

I felt so humiliated, even though he had not laid one finger on me yet. Pledging to myself not to make any more mistakes. Realizing why this sort of punishment, as part of his training program, worked so effective.

With only a skimpy thong protecting my modesty I felt exposed and shamed. To my further shame he complimented my choice of underwear calling it foresighted of me to choose underwear that left my buttocks exposed for my punishment.

So I already felt very humbled and humiliated even before he started the punishment.

And then he started to spank me. A slap across my butt and I could not help but give out a small scream, sort of a squeal of surprise. His first slap quickly followed by another on my other buttock. It felt indescribable. I never felt such humiliation before. Of course there was some pain, but the embarrassment felt far stronger.

Mr. Wilson told me, over and over, that I must be a good girl and learn my lessons—that it was important to follow his directions if I wanted to succeed. He would say something and then bring his hand down with a smack on my butt as if to make his point.

I could not help squirming in his lap, so he placed his other hand behind my back to hold me in position. With each slap I squealed and gasped for breath. My breasts wobbled beneath me. I must have looked a real sight.

He rained down spank after spank, and each stung sharply before fading to a dull warm throb. That warmth started to spread through my bottom.

Oh yes, I felt some pain. Indeed I felt pain, but I also felt something else.

As the spanking continued I became more and more aroused. I think because I knew my pussy was almost on display together with all those naughty fantasies I explored about Mr. Wilson, but I could not help it—my pussy started to tingle and moisten.

I knew I should not let myself feel that way, it was certainly very inappropriate. Unfortunately I found it harder and harder to concentrate on what Mr. Wilson said since I could not stop thinking dirty thoughts, feeling myself grow more and more aroused, acutely aware of my rapidly moistening pussy. Gasping, my breathing deepening.

I do not really understand it, I never had any fantasies about being spanked before—though from some of the products on sale at Penelope’s Pleasures I now know that some people clearly do—and yet while Mr. Wilson spanked me I became more and more turned on by it all.

Part of what made it so sexy I think was how his slaps made my butt cheeks jiggle, sending vibrations radiating through that whole area including to my naughty spots. Quivering flesh sending pleasant tingles pulsing straight to my pussy. My arousal climbed quickly.

I began to moan out loud. Oh the shame. I just hope Mr. Wilson thought it moans of pain. Each slap on my butt sent pleasurable tingling sensations all through my bottom, making my pussy wetter. Soaking my skimpy panties. Naughty thoughts spinning around my mind. Growing more and more aroused with each spank.

As my spanking continued, my imagination ran wild with naughty thoughts, and to my amazement, I found myself cresting towards an orgasm. I knew that would be far too humiliating, so I fought to hold it back. But I could not help myself, I kept slipping closer towards the edge. Closer and closer with each spank. Luckily, just when I thought I could not hold it back any more, Mr. Wilson called a halt to my punishment. I felt so relieved. Yet frustrated too.

I looked not particularly composed as Mr. Wilson helped me to stand. Fortunately he did not seem to notice my state of arousal, I suppose he expected me to look subdued after being punished, and hopefully he put my flushed face down to embarrassment rather than the arousal that burned within me.

My punishment was not completely finished though. Mr. Wilson told me it was important for me to think on my mistake and my punishment before I returned to work. He told me to stand in the corner of his office facing into the corner. How embarrassing.

While I stood there he just continued to work at his desk like nothing happened. Meanwhile, I did not spend the time thinking on my mistake but instead I thought about my punishment—though probably not in the way he intended. No, instead I thought about how it affected me—how turned on it made me.

My panties felt absolutely soaking wet. I noticed the sultry, sexy aroma of my musk and I wondered whether he could too. That made me blush, which only ratcheted up my arousal another notch.

I stood there in such a flustered state. I really do not know how Mr. Wilson did not notice, but thankfully it seemed he did not. He just sat at his desk working and muttering to himself like I was not even there. I cannot remember what he muttered about, but in some ways I felt reassured by it. It made the whole thing seem normal.

My mind whirled. I realized that I actually enjoyed the spanking and would happily submit to another if Mr. Wilson deemed it necessary. However, I definitely do not intend to make a mistake on purpose—I am far too much of a professional to do that.

I found myself fantasizing about the possibility of further spankings, fueling an inferno of arousal. My naughty mind just kept picturing, over and over again, naughty scenes where Mr. Wilson might take me over his knee to spank me. I got myself rather worked up thinking these fantasies while standing in the corner.

He made me stand there for about ten or fifteen minutes and then finally dismissed me back to my office to continue my work.

Only after he dismissed me did I realize that my skirt still remained tucked in my belt in back, leaving my buttocks on display all while I stood there. I wonder what Mr. Wilson thought. I flushed with terribly powerful embarrassment, and yet powerful arousal too.

I needed to make a quick detour to the ladies room. Feeling so worked up, I just had to “finish” myself off.

I never played with myself in a public place before, and though the stall of the toilet granted some privacy, I still worried that someone might enter the bathroom and hear me. Thankfully nobody interrupted me. Actually, it felt so good to get release that I almost would not have cared. Besides, the thought of getting caught actually added to the excitement of it all, for some reason.

There in the ladies room, I discovered just how completely wet my panties had become. I needed to take them off, there was no way I could sit in them for the rest of the day.

Back at my desk, since I did not want my skirt damp either, I made sure to flip it up behind me, scrunching it way up as usual. The musky scent of arousal floated from my bare lap.

It actually felt quite thrilling to sit there bare beneath my short skirt. I do not understand why. If someone happened to walk into my office for a chat, I knew they would be unable to see beneath my desk, and I could act normal sitting there, but part of me felt so excited to know that with my skirt bunched way up, I basically sat at my desk bottomless—except for shoes, nude from nearly my belly button down. For some reason that made me feel naughty and excited.

The only downside that my poor bum felt sore from spanking so I needed to take care how I sat.

When I got home this evening, I just had to masturbate again fantasizing about Mr. Wilson spanking me. I never knew getting spanked could be so sexy. I do not think I ever felt as aroused as I did today—as I still do. Tonight I plan to masturbate some more to this fantasy, right after I finish writing this log entry.

Actually, I worry a bit about how I reacted to the spanking, and how I feel at the moment. It seems a bit abnormal. I worry that I might be becoming some sort of sex maniac, some sort of nympho freak.

Hopefully I can pull myself together properly tomorrow to concentrate on work. While I would not mind another spanking if I did happen to make a mistake, I want to do well and get that next promotion, and I do not want to disappoint Mr. Wilson.

I feel so relieved. I am not a freak or a sex maniac. Mr. Wilson explained it all to me today and now I understand how everything happening to me is completely normal and nothing to worry about at all.

My revelation all started with a very embarrassing and humiliating moment—He caught me touching myself—but in retrospect, now I feel glad it happened. Thankfully Mr. Wilson is such a wise and understanding man. I am so lucky with him to guide me.

He caught me in such a humiliating situation because, to start, I felt tired and distracted from not sleeping particularly well last night. My sore bottom from spanking, and more importantly the strange new fantasies it brought to my mind, meant that I just could not fall asleep.

Memories and fantasies of Mr. Wilson spanking me kept circling around and around in my mind all night. I did get a few hours of fitful sleep—probably because I managed to exhaust myself masturbating to many many orgasms. I could not seem to keep my fingers away from my clitoris last night, and my needy clit still felt sensitive and sort of overly-played-with this morning.

So when I arrived at work this morning I felt pretty tired and my thoughts preoccupied since my poor pussy still felt slightly swollen from all of my nighttime playing and thus sensitive already. Besides, I always wake up extremely horny these days anyway. Therefore I really could not help my sensitive pussy from growing wet again, which quickly soaked my thin underwear.

The past several times my undies became that wet, I needed to take them off to feel comfortable. That made me remember yesterday’s thrill of being without underwear at work—so as soon as I arrived, before I even sat down to start working this morning, I quickly decided to slip off my underwear and sit on my office chair with my bottom completely bare. It felt so naughty and yet so thrilling. I just love sitting bottomless at my office desk.

I came undone though because that morning I worked through Penelope’s products, making notes about each product and looking up sales figures and checking on profitability based on manufacturing costs and sales price. I happened to work in their bondage gear section.

Then I came across a stunning sight. The screen in front of me displayed a product called a spanking bench and the picture showed a young, beautiful, naked woman fastened to the bench with a man standing behind her, his hand raised. From his pose and her reddened bottom it appeared clear he was in the middle of spanking her.

It immediately brought my thoughts back to my punishment yesterday. I remembered every detail of my own spanking, and while I thought about that, I could not help from reaching down to my lap and gently caressing my slick pussy. It felt so incredibly good that I could not stop myself from continuing, even slouching a bit in my chair.

I have never, ever before, done something so lewd at work. Well, apart from my session in the ladies washroom yesterday—but that was in the privacy of the toilet, not in my office where anyone could walk in at any time.

As it happens, at exactly that moment, Mr. Wilson walked into my office. His timing both terrible and perfect, to catch me just as I really got into it, my actions surely obvious.

I felt mortified. My boss caught me touching myself! Yet Mr. Wilson did not seem angry. In fact he acted great about it.

He sat beside me, telling me that it was okay and nothing to worry about. I felt totally humiliated and I broke down sobbing my apology for letting him down.

Mr. Wilson just hugged me and told me that there was nothing for which to apologize. After hugging me, he let his hand rest on my leg, gently stroking to comfort me while he spoke calm soothing words. What a wonderful man to comfort me this way.

Then we had a long heart-to-heart talk. He asked me some questions about whether I did it at work before and how often I masturbated at home.

I felt so miserable for having betrayed the trust that Mr. Wilson placed in me, that I answered all his questions. I felt awfully embarrassed to talk about my masturbation habits, but it felt good too, for some reason.

To start I just admitted that I felt much more horny recently. But then I elaborated a little. And then a little more. Once it began spilling out, I could not stop.

I felt extremely embarrassed to tell him everything but for some reason I just could not hold anything back. I even admitted how nowadays I masturbate much more often than ever before, playing with myself many times each night and weekend at home.

Blushing to admit these things to him. But as each embarrassing truth came out I felt myself growing more and more aroused too. It did not help my arousal that his hand still gently stroked my thigh to comfort me.

Unable to help it, a fantasy popped into my dirty mind right then. I imagined his hand sliding up my thigh to stroke my bare naked pussy. A perverted part of me wished for him to do just that. But I did not tell him about that kinky little daydream, afraid it might make him horrified and disgusted.

Then I realized how my skirt bunched way up around my waist leaving my bare, dripping wet pussy clearly visible if he looked down. That knowledge filled me with such a thrill! But he did not seem to look down, he appeared focused on cheering me up and making me feel better.

Mr. Wilson acted so understanding. He did not once become angry or uncomfortable while I laid everything out for him and felt low down about myself.

He told me that I should not worry. That in fact one of the main problems stemmed from how I bottled everything inside, all that sexual tension. Because when I get sexually frustrated I am more likely to make mistakes. Once he explained it to me, it all made perfect sense and now I understand.

Mr. Wilson called it perfectly typical for a healthy young woman, like me, to have a powerful sex drive. In fact the more intelligent a woman the more vivid her imagination usually and thus the stronger her libido. I should not worry that my libido seemingly increased in the last few weeks. That just signals my intelligence.

An executive trainee must grasp everything that comes along and turn it into an advantage. In this case he felt sure my intelligence and powerful imagination must help me with my work.

My increased sexual imagination probably also related to my work duties. Clearly the products had a certain sexual nature to them thus it seemed natural that I find myself with a heightened libido while working on the project.

He told me it was fine to allow my imagination to wander provided I kept working hard. More importantly I must not bottle up my fantasies so that I become frustrated and make mistakes. What I do at home is my own business, and sexual pastimes at home are perfectly healthy since they provide release for frustration, he said. And if during work I found myself a little indisposed, well that was fine too, provided my results stayed strong like they had up to now.

I felt a thrill to hear he was pleased with my results so far. Maybe if I keep it up, I might earn another promotion soon.

I still cannot believe Mr. Wilson acted so understanding. He is such a great man. Incredibly kind of him to tell me I do not need to worry about all those things. Our heart to heart talk made me feel much better about everything.

Our discussion continued and he asked some more personal questions, such as whether I enjoyed being naked.

I admitted that I did and that I even recently started sleeping in the nude, but that of course I did not walk around naked at home—that would feel too embarrassing.

He said it surprised him how I felt embarrassed about that, it was not something he expected from someone intelligent and sensible like me.

And now that I think about it I know he is right. Nothing wrong with living naked at home, on my own. It actually feels great, quite liberating, to be nude. So this weekend I tried going naked around my house more often.

Of course, I always make sure to dress again before answering the door and I stay careful to keep my curtains closed all the way so nobody can see through my windows, since getting caught sounds way too embarrassing.

Still, living naked at home feels sexy. And it drives my arousal even higher to fantasize, to imagine what might happen if my curtains opened for some reason right at the moment someone happened to look in the window.

Anyway, before that thought triggers a nice new fantasy, I will sign off for the night.

I plan to spend most of this weekend nude at my place. Clothes just seem too constricting. Living naked at home feels wonderfully liberating.

Carelessly today, I accidentally forgot to close the curtains all the way at first. By the time I discovered it, several hours passed with them slightly open the entire time. When I finally realized my error, I already walked past or stood near my floor-to-ceiling windows, bare naked, many times.

I felt a surge of embarrassment and arousal. I cautiously peeked out my window, to check for anybody out there watching. Of course I saw nobody. Still, I felt so hot and naughty!

The rational part of me knows the chances unlikely anybody out there. But my heart still beat rapidly with excitement and my clit throbbed just at the possibility that maybe someone glimpsed me nude. Immediately I laid on my bed to enjoy some playtime fantasizing about it.

Splayed on my bed, fingers slipping in my wet pussy when I realized my bedroom curtains still remained slightly open. My excitement surged even greater. I could not see anyone, but that did not mean anything. Someone might be looking, perhaps without me even being aware of it, say as they lurk hidden in the darkness across the way.

I imagined someone watching me finger myself, and enjoyed a nice, big orgasm. Oh damn, that felt good! It made a nice fantasy, even though unlikely. And alas, it does seem rather unlikely after all.

Now that I think about it more rationally, I realize my earlier over-cautiousness seems a bit silly. The odds seem reasonably low that anyone will glance in my windows at just the right time when I walk past. It should be safe to leave the curtains open more often at home, and it feels nice to let in more sunlight. So I opened my curtains for the rest of the afternoon.

Still, the risk of getting seen nude, no matter how low, did provide such wonderful fuel for my fantasies. More than once today I masturbated furiously to these fantasies. The orgasms felt amazing! Another perk about leaving my curtains drawn—it sets off my exhibitionist streak.

Yes, I think I might try leaving my curtains open more often while I go nude at home.

I feel so pleased with myself, and surely Mr. Wilson will be pleased and proud of me too. And that can only mean that I will get that all-important next promotion.

Yesterday I got to thinking about the project and how I could improve my performance. I certainly do not want to make a mistake and earn another spanking. Well, that is not strictly true—I would enjoy another spanking, but I do not want to disappoint Mr. Wilson so much that he decides he needs to punish me again. I feel terrible when I disappoint him.

Well, it dawned on me the reason I made Thursday’s mistake—because of my unfamiliarity with the products or the people who buy them. So I decided to do some research on the internet.

I just know Mr. Wilson will be pleased.

I spent the whole weekend on the net. Beginning by looking at competitors’ web sites. They did not offer much insight, other than checking our pricing competitiveness.

While looking at some spanking benches I started feeling really turned on again, when another brainwave struck me. Realizing I approached it all wrong. Instead of looking at what we and our competitors already sold, I should think about what our customers want. I should research bondage and fetish. I need to understand what turns on the people who might buy from us so that I can decide which products to highlight and which we should think about dropping.

So I started looking at bondage and submission websites—called BDSM, as I later learned. A really big eye-opener for me.

I found pictures and videos, and some surprisingly erotic stories, of beautiful young women all in submissive situations. The first few I studied all about spanking. That caught my eye first because of the reaction I experienced to my own spanking.

The interesting and erotic stories made me excited and horny. I found the images fascinating and arousing. And when I watched a video I just had to masturbate.

I did not really intend to play with myself while watching the video. But I already sat naked at my computer, since I was spending the weekend nude at home, and my hand naturally rested in my lap. I felt so turned on and my attention focused on the video, that I almost did not notice when I started touching my pussy. Then, once I did realize, I could not stop. It seemed wicked to play with myself while looking at pornographic websites, but actually it felt great.

I knew that I could not just indulge my fantasies about Mr. Wilson spanking me. I need a broader understanding of the market. So I made myself look at other bondage and submission images, stories, and videos—not necessarily ones about spanking.

To my amazement I found them as arousing as the spanking stuff and I ended up masturbating to that material also. Without really intending to, I discovered myself imagining that it was me in all of those erotic situations: naked and serving powerful men, bound and gagged, performing oral sex and getting fucked over and over.

My reaction surprises me a little, since previously I always thought that people into bondage seemed weird and I certainly never imagined I might be turned on by submissive thoughts. After all, I aim to rank a powerful executive and I believe men and women are equal. But the thought of being made to strip and service a strong man just turns my mind to jelly. Well, I guess, there is nothing wrong with fantasies.

Feeling pleased with myself. I completed some great research this weekend and now I possess a better understanding of what makes our customers tick. Tomorrow I can summarize my new understanding to Mr. Wilson. I feel so excited, knowing this extra work is sure to please him.

Also I had such a good time doing this research—I had so many orgasms and I feel pretty tired, but I feel incredibly good, quite proud of myself.