*****

Part 2: A Naked First Day…

My first day with Fletcher and Felicity Medical Supplies was rather memorable, but for all the wrong reasons. I was still a frantic, flustered mess after the whole ordeal that followed my interview. Throughout the entire weekend, I kept replaying the entire scenario over and over in my mind, as if it were on an endless loop. I was exposed. Naked. Vulnerable. On display with nowhere to hide. A sea of amused and perplexed women outwardly mocking my lack of endowment. I was publicly eviscerated, humiliated and symbolically emasculated.

I always had a great deal of pride in my appearance and even lied to myself that I was an Adonis, an alpha male, someone who could make women swoon with nothing but a crooked, cocky smile. Nothing could be further from the truth. The exposure, ridicule, mockery and shame I felt left me battered, shattered and a broken shell of a man. Emotionally, it was devastating. Even those who displayed sympathy towards my situation somehow left me feeling even more embarrassed than those who outwardly mocked my lack of masculinity.

Especially when Jane spoke down to me as if I were a small child. Jane Kirkland, my new boss. Jane Kirkland, who had seen me grow up. Jane Kirkland, who was a close friend of my mother. Jane Kirkland, whom I harboured feelings for, whom I’d had a crush on since I was eight years old. Jane Kirkland, whom I wanted to impress, had seen me in my birthday suit, and she didn’t care. Instead of an able-bodied man, she saw a small child with a little, unimpressive, flaccid penis. She saw me in my most vulnerable state; it looked like I had nothing but a shrunken earlobe between my legs. She saw it all, and she was sympathetic, which, of course, stung even more.

Furthermore, I learned that I’d be working directly under Eliza. Eliza Smith, who’d made my life one miserable hell way back in high school. In the 9th grade, I asked her out, only to be publicly ridiculed. Laughter followed along with an overwhelming need to publicly belittle me. Yes, she was amused that I ‘had the hots for her’. She made it clear that I was not in her league, that I was a different species altogether. This was done in public, with an audience. An audience of her peers, who all found it hysterical. Socially, she destroyed me. Following that humiliating incident, I didn’t even so much as pursue a woman until I was well into my twenties. After my ordeal the previous week, it certainly felt as though history was repeating itself.

Only this time, I was naked.

I fought hard with my parents, pleading with them and letting them know that I didn’t want to go. I desperately did not want to face those people again. With tears, I begged and begged; alas, my pleas fell on deaf ears. In fact, my father made it clear, ‘if you don’t go through with this new job, you’re out in the street!’ and he was serious.

To make a long story short, I conceded.

On Monday morning, I found myself in the passenger seat of my mother’s car as she drove me to my new job. I was utterly terrified. So riddled with anxiety and fear that the whole car ride, I said nothing. I just stared blankly out the window as my mother continued, “A job is a job… you’ll make it work, honey…” I wasn’t about to tell her the real reason for my apprehension, but I came close. In my mind, I kept replaying the moment where I ejaculated out of my flaccid little penis in front of an audience. I remembered looking back at the crowd with desperate, pleading eyes as they gave me a round of applause. Every woman looked me over with wide-eyed grins, satisfied, mystified, and amused. It all felt so cruel. I was taken out of my daze as my mother pulled up to the main gate of Fletcher and Felicity Medical Supplies.

It was 8 am. As I gazed over the site, a shiver ran up my spine.

“Have a marvellous day, honey. I’ll pick you up at 5:30,” she said, practically forcing me out of the car.

I hesitated, peering back at her with desperate, pleading eyes. “Please… don’t make me do this,” I said softly. “They’ll tease me,” I added, on the verge of tears.

“Now, dear…” she began, “block out all the negativity and get on with it,” she replied.

I looked on as she tore out of the driveway, watching her Station wagon disappear over the horizon. Slowly, I gazed back at the site and, with a deep inhale, I proceeded to make my way through the mammoth site towards the main office building. The last time I did this walk, I was naked in full view of the entire staff. Everyone, from warehouse store employees to supervisors, technicians, and scientists… everyone saw me in my birthday suit.

Despite being now dressed, it was still a particularly difficult walk, and I struggled to maintain my composure. I felt eyes on me. In fact, most of store storemen seemed to be staring at me, all with wide-eyed, bemused smirks. It was clear they all remembered me from the previous week; it was etched into their minds. I could’ve sworn I even heard a faint ‘cat call’ from behind me. I shuddered as I did my best to ignore it, powering on towards the main office.

When I eventually made it to the main reception area, I locked eyes with Karen.

Karen, who only three days prior had her finger up my ass. Karen, who assumed I hadn’t reached puberty based on the meagre size of my genitals. Karen, who I’m sure assumed I was not only prepubescent, but also permanently flaccid. A sad, pathetic excuse of a man. Karen, whom I’d initially tried to intimidate with a false sense of bravado and machismo, saw me broken down and exposed for who I truly was. My exposure was catastrophically devastating to me, and as I recall, on that fateful day, her demeanour changed from irritated to amused to sympathetic. Sympathy with a mild hint of pity and sorrow. In fact, she shot me a warm grin. It was a sympathetic grin, an attempt to provide comfort and warmth. It was indeed a grimace of pity. All it did was make me weak at the knees. To her, I was the furthest thing from a man. It was clear as day, and it was sad, very much so.

“Good morning, little Timmy,” she said softly, calmly. “How was your weekend?” she asked.

All I could do was nod, too perplexed and terrified to say anything in response.

“We’re running a little behind, so I’ll just get you to sit next to Sara till everything is ready,” she said.

I, in turn, looked over my shoulder, only to notice a porcelain-skinned brown brown-haired goddess seated by the main door, dressed in a very conservative bare bare-shoulder grey and black dress. I was so caught up in my own anxieties, I didn’t even notice her. This woman was hard to miss. She was incredibly gorgeous, and under normal circumstances, I would’ve tried to engage in idle chit-chat. The events of the previous week had stripped me of all of my confidence. Despite this woman being more than a decade younger than me, I felt like a small child in her presence. Somehow, she made me feel weak, and when she smiled at me, I almost doubled over.

Anxiously, I approached and sat near her. “Hey,” she said, “I’m Sara,” she added, introducing herself.

“Urm… I’m Timmy,” I paused, grimacing before correcting myself, “Tim. I’m Tim,” she extended her hand to shake.

“I’m so excited. This is my first job since finishing college,” she exclaimed, “I can hardly wait. This is so exciting.” She paused, looking me over, “How about you?” she asked.

“Urr… I’m doing this job as a favour for a family member. Jane, the uhh… the manager here is an old friend.” I said, trying to save face.

“Oh, really? What did you do before this?” she asked, curiously.

“I worked in finance.” A glimmer of hope washed over me, momentarily remembering who I was before all this nonsense took place. I was a captain of industry. A piece of ass like this would be easy pickings for me back in my old life. “Yeah, I’m just doing this as a favour; they need me,” I added, lying in an attempt to impress her.

It seemed to work as she edged over, closer to me. “That’s amazing!” she paused before adding, “Can I be honest with you?” she asked, leaning in closer, “I’m also a little nervous. Do you mind if I shadow you?”

God, she smelt amazing.

“Oh yeah, of course. Stick with me. I’ll put you at ease.”

Karen snickered from her desk, rattling me once more. I glanced over in her direction. She quickly looked away, trying hard to contain herself. Trying hard to keep from laughing. “I’ll put you at ease”, she softly repeated out loud to herself, beyond entertained. Then it hit me, my attempt at machismo amused her. It was clear as day. Yes, it rattled me, and once again, I turned into a stuttering, blubbering moron.

“ur, I mean, I can urm… It was… I was ju-” thankfully, the main door swung wide open, saving me from further embarrassment. Both Sara and I looked over at the main entrance to the bullpen. My heart sank as Eliza waltzed in with a pep in her step. She was emphatically enthused to be in this particular position of power, and as she looked me over, she arched her eyebrows and smirked at me. “Sweet little Timmy!” she announced out loud. “I’m surprised you’re back for more,” she teased, a cruel, wide-eyed grin washing over her. “How’s your widdle friend?”

Sara looked me over, confused.

“And Sara! So good to see you again,” Eliza added, focusing her attention on her.

“So, today you’ll both be with me. I’ll run through some basic details, providing a rundown of a typical day. After that, Jane will give you both a grand tour of the warehouse. I know you’ve both been taken through already, but this time she’s going to pay special attention to the packaging room. Now, this room requires that you both wear a hazmat suit in order to avoid exposure to toxic chemicals.”

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably as Eliza continued, “You must understand the ins and outs of everything we do here.”

“Sounds good!” Sara enthusiastically responded.

“Ur…yeah,” I responded, uneasy.

From that awkward encounter in reception, Eliza then ushered us both into the main bullpen.

Once again, I felt a queasy uneasiness as I ventured into the crowded office. I was so overwhelmed and anxious that I trailed behind, desperately trying not to draw any sort of attention to myself. As Eliza and Sara powered on, I followed, my eyes transfixed on Sara’s silky, shapely legs, which seemed to have a sheen, literally glistening. This was a woman who clearly spent a great deal of time at the gym, obviously sculpting that body to perfection. Those toned, silky legs looked like absolute heaven, and it was all I could really focus on in that moment. In other words, I was not really paying attention at all to Eliza’s rambling. Slowly, Sara turned to glance in my direction, only to catch me staring at her behind. I recoiled in embarrassment, which seemed to amuse her.

However, it did bring me back to reality, reminding me where I was once more.

Of course, I heard muffled whispers, chatter and murmurs as I walked on through. My face suddenly turned beet red as I desperately tried to block them out. In the corner of my eye, I caught Wendy and Zoe gazing over in my direction, but on the verge of laughter. Wendy locked eyes with me and waved her pinky in the air. Zoe shielded her face, covering an obvious grin. She then broke out in laughter.

“Keep up, little Timmy!” Eliza called out.

Sara looked back at me and smiled as I struggled to catch up to them.

It felt as though Eliza was parading me through the bullpen, just enough for every woman there to get eyes on me once more. However, this was largely in my head. Eliza brought both Sara and me to the very far corner, leading us into a small conference room.

From there, both Sara and I took our seats side by side as Eliza went about booting up her laptop before connecting it to the projector. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as a dark thought washed over me, ‘What if a nude photo of me popped up? What if she’d make it her background?’… I knew multiple women had recorded my tryst the previous week. I began to shake, anxious beyond comprehension, involuntarily.

“Are you okay?” Sara asked me in almost a whisper.

“Oh yeah, I uhh… I’ve been through this before. Piece of cake,” I responded, displaying a false show of confidence, “Are urm… are you okay?” I asked her.

“I’m nervous. But I’m so excited. First job out of college and I’m a senior account manager!” she exclaimed, overjoyed.

It was then that I realised this young 24-year-old bombshell would be working well above me in a senior management position. This babe, whom I thought I could impress with my show of bravado, would essentially be one of my bosses. I was just part of the quotes team, essentially just a glorified receptionist, responding to enquiries. Sara would be the one with all the glory, the fancy title and surely, the hefty quarterly bonuses. This goddess, this woman, would no doubt become a juggernaut, and I was just a little boy, small, underdeveloped, pathetic and silly. I felt my heart sink as I saw the projector flicker….Thankfully, once Eliza’s laptop had booted up, I was relieved to see her background was just a small white and grey kitten playing with a ball of yarn.

Sara and I sat there awkwardly as Eliza went about, searching for a video file to play for us. It felt like the whole experience was taking a lifetime. Eventually, she found the file titled, ‘Welcome to Fletcher and Felicity Medical Supplies’

“Okay, so….” Eliza began, “First, I’m just going to have the two of you watch this introductory video. It is mandatory for all recruits. Essentially just standard workplace health and safety stuff. All directly from H.R. It’s roughly an hour and a half.” She locked eyes with me and added, “Timmy, since you’ll only be working in quotes and processing, probably only half of it really should apply to your role.”

Eliza turned her attention back to her laptop before opening the file, “I’ll be back when the video is over.” With that, she hit play before turning and exiting the room, leaving me and Sara all alone.

“I thought you were in a more senior role, aren’t you?” Sara asked.

“Urr… like I said, I’m just here to help, but uhh…. It’s mandatory to go through all this stuff, you know?” I added, trying to save face. “I worked in finance for a big multinational, I uhh… I’m familiar with this information, so… I know it all. I’ve been everywhere. I know everything and urm… You know?”

She looked at me, unsure, realising that on the surface, it was all a false façade. Realising I was ashamed to be commencing at an entry-level position below her, I’m sure it was all plastered on my face. I could also see her image of me shift instantly. Before I could respond, the video had begun, and what followed was nearly two hours of tedious, dry, and bland content, covering the company’s history, standard work practices, and general workplace health and safety information. I actually zoned out a few times, losing myself in the process.

Only when the video had ended did I notice that Sara had been taking notes the whole time. I hadn’t, in fact, I hadn’t retained any information whatsoever.

Realising this, I was set into a panic, especially when Eliza barged back into the room with two exams. “Right, I’ll give you 45 minutes…. It’s mostly common sense, but everything should’ve been covered in the video.” With that, she left the room once more, leaving Sara and me to complete our exams.

Of course, I couldn’t really make sense of anything…. So I just made it up on the fly. Thankfully, it was mostly multiple choice, and mostly, I guessed the answers. I was finished in fifteen minutes. I sat there, bored out of my mind as Sara proceeded to take her time, referring back to her notes regularly. I gazed over her beauty as she worked and found myself wondering what type of guy gets to fuck her. She was fit, overwhelmingly so. Flawless is a word that comes to mind. Peering over at her, taking a closer look, I could see the outline of a lacy brassiere underneath her dress. I actually found myself fantasising about her, imagining what it would be like to put my face between those amazing breasts.

Of course, she caught me looking, shooting me a look of disgust before shifting away from me.

It was awkward to say the very least.

Before too long, Eliza waltzed back into the conference room with a genuine pep in her step, aptly retrieving our exams before stuffing them into a brown manila folder. “Sorry to spring that on you guys,” she said casually as she indicated for us to follow her, “it’ best to keep you on your toes,” she added.

“No, it’s okay. The recruiter said to be prepared for anything!” Sara declared, of course, she and Eliza got along like a house on fire. They continued to chat as I remained silent, my angst growing deeper and deeper.

Eliza went about showing us various amenities and made it very clear that this was specifically for my benefit only. In particular, the printing room, the copywriting room and lastly, the storage room. It would essentially be my job to print, file and organise things while account managers and senior staff went about expanding the business. I would be there solely as support. Sara paid close attention to every little detail as I simply trailed along, far too embarrassed and perplexed to respond. Throughout this whole process, however, it was obvious to me that Eliza was speaking down to me, almost as if I had some type of learning disability. I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, but it was gut-wrenching to say the very least.

“Now, Sara, I’ll show you the executive lounge,” Eliza paused before looking back at me. “Sorry, little Timmy, this is for Sara only,” she said with a hint of condescension, before adding, “I’m sure you understand, don’t you?”

I looked down at my feet, embarrassed as she continued, “Actually, I do have something you can complete for me….” She led me over to the mammoth copier in the far corner of the room, indicating a tall stack of documents. “I need you to collate this, laminate and put it into a pink and blue binder. Do you think you can handle that?” she asked, almost as though she were talking to an inept child.

Eliza was my age! In my old world, she’d be getting me coffee! Now here I was, office bitch, feeling every little bit emasculated, doing the most tedious, boring task I could think of. It was utterly humiliating, especially when I caught Sara trying to hide an obvious smirk. It was clear that my shame, animosity, and embarrassment were known. Realising this, I tried to shrug it off in an attempt to display that none of this rattled me, but I was; it was clear. “Uh-huh…” was all I could respond.

Before I could add anything else, Eliza and Sara exited the room, leaving me there all alone to complete my tedious task.

Almost an hour later, I was done, and as I ventured out into the bullpen, I clung tightly to the pink and blue binder, proud of my efforts and desperate to show it off to Eliza. I was fairly keen to display that, no, I am not a moron, nor am I inept. ‘I am far more educated, travelled, successful and knowledgeable than anyone here!’ I literally waltzed through the bullpen, eagerly looking for Eliza. Along the way, I passed a few familiar faces. Becky gave me a semi-sarcastic greeting. Jasmine chuckled loudly, and Helen stared down her nose at me, confidently resting her arms on her hips with an almost cruel, yet satisfied, smile. As I powered on through, I did my best to block them out. I decided then and there that I wouldn’t be rattled. I had to remind myself of who I was and what I was capable of. This, all of this here at Fletcher and Felicity, was a pit stop; it was temporary. Soon, I’d be back on top, and none of this would matter.

As this was going through my mind, I managed to find Eliza and Sara, seated before a central communal desk. Sitting alongside them were Zoe and Helen. All four of them were huddled together, and it didn’t really seem like they were doing anything that resembled work. As I approached them, I realised that Eliza was showing them something on her phone…. A video. All were focusing intently with amused grins. Sara was looking on in shock and awe, absolutely perplexed by what she was seeing. A dark, ominous thought washed over me, and my instinct was to run and hide. Unfortunately, in that moment, I was frozen; I became stone.

Zoe was the first to notice me there, standing, looking over at them.

A guilty, yet amused grimace washed over her as she nudged Eliza. Eliza looked over at me before quickly hiding her phone. Helen covered her mouth with both hands, hiding an obvious grin. She was quick to disappear back to her cubicle.

Zoe shot me a look of sympathy with a condescending smirk. “Sorry, little Timmy,” she said softly as she waddled off.

Eliza looked rattled, but still very much enjoying her position of power over me. She had a permanent smirk plastered on her face. She didn’t need to tell me what she’d been showing everyone, I knew. I absolutely knew.

Sara looked not only mortified but also absolutely disgusted. She actually scrunched up her face at me before turning away, obviously grossed out by what she’d just seen.

Eliza rose, coming up closer to me with a confident strut, “Are you all done?” she asked as she took the binder out of my hands. “god! It took you so long! Maybe we need to start you off with much simpler tasks,” she declared as a barrage of muffled snickers and chatter took over nearby.

At that point, I didn’t really think the day could get any worse.

“So, how are you both settling in?” I heard a familiar voice behind me. I slowly looked over my shoulder, only to notice Jane standing before me, confidently. She was dressed in a tight black dress, showcasing her toned, mature figure. She was in even better shape than Sara despite being more than double her age. “My sweetest little Timmy!” she exclaimed as she leaned in for a hug. “Good first day so far?” she asked.

Before I could answer, Eliza chimed in, “He’s struggling a little, but I think we’ll get him there.”

Jane sympathetically rubbed my shoulder, almost as if she were an aunt or mother consoling an upset child, “Awww… Don’t worry, honeybunch, you’ll pick it up.”

She gazed back at Sara with an entirely different demeanour: that of a colleague. “Sara?”

“Informative and eye-opening. I’m eager to review that portfolio. I’m told it’s a hot desk,” Sara said with a tone of arrogance.

“Oh yes, you’ve inherited a very healthy desk. I’ve heard good things about you. I’m sure you can expand and grow with the resources available,” Jane added before gazing back at me, “Oh, I’m sorry, little Timmy, I’m sure it all sounds like gibberish to you.”

I shuddered in angst and embarrassment as I was publicly belittled with kindness, too afraid, anxious and overwhelmed to defend myself, my intellect and my nature. Before I could fathom any type of response, Jane declared out loud, “I’m just taking the newbies out to lunch. Eliza, you’re welcome to join us.”

“At Flanagan’s? Across the road?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” Jane said.

“Wendy, Zoe, Helen? Mind if they come along?” Eliza asked.

“The more the merrier,” Jane responded.

In my mind, I imagined a particularly awkward and uncomfortable lunch. I was desperate to avoid this and so, in utter desperation, I announced, “It’s okay, Jane, I ur…. I brought my own lunch.” All eyes fell on me as an uncomfortable silence took over. “I’m sure your mommy will understand if you don’t eat what she packed for you! It’s the first day,” she added, to which Sara scoffed before letting out an obnoxious chuckle. Eliza joined in, trying rather unsuccessfully to repress her giggle. They all assumed my lunch had been packed by my mother, as if I were a schoolchild. It wasn’t very comfortable to say the very least. The truth was, I just didn’t want to sit in a crowded restaurant with women who’d seen me naked, who I knew would take turns subtly tormenting me on purpose. “No, I urm… I pack my own lunch,” I was foolish enough to announce.

“Almost like a big boy!” Eliza teased, which caused a ruckus of laughter from everyone, including Jane. Jane, who found that comment particularly amusing. “Come on, little Timmy. Just today,” she added, sensing my apprehension, “I’ll buy you lunch. It’s on me.” It was mortifyingly embarrassing being called out like that, and in that moment, I felt like a small child being publicly belittled by his hot older aunt. It wasn’t intentional, but it left me feeling particularly dishevelled, embarrassed, and frazzled. To make matters worse, she actually reached out and held me by the hand, practically dragging me out the door. Yes, I was holding her hand, but it really felt as though I’d regressed 25 years. I very much felt like a child, and it wasn’t very comfortable.

So, from there, I was led through the main bullpen, out through the main site and across the busy road toward the Irish-themed restaurant. I clung to her right hand tightly, while her left hand held her purse. Something about this made me feel particularly useless and pathetic. It felt overwhelmingly odd, and I somehow felt powerless. Looking over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the small group of women, all conversing with one another, all huddled together, all waddling over, all chit-chatting about something else that wasn’t really at all related to me or my situation. I wasn’t involved in it. I was left out. No, I was holding Jane’s hand like a little kid, while the ‘grown-ups’ took their time. Of course, there was Eliza, Sara, Wendy, Zoe, Helen and Jasmine…. All of them chose to join us. Suddenly, I had a very queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Just as I suspected, Flannigan’s was indeed an Irish-themed restaurant, closely resembling an old Irish pub. The premises featured floor-to-ceiling mahogany walls, green furniture, and yellow-stained murals throughout. To top it off, it was a particularly busy day, overwhelming in its intensity. I’m ashamed to admit, but as Jane led me through the crowd, I found myself gently squeezing her hand. She looked down at me, warmly and said, “It’s okay, little Timmy. Don’t worry.” Needless to say, it left me feeling silly and a little pathetic. I was a grown ass man, not a little kid.

My heart sank further as we reached our table; Karen was already seated there, waiting for us to arrive. She’d booked a mammoth twelve-seater table which was positioned directly in front of the main window. From our vantage point, the entire site was visible across the road.

Jane, of course, took her place at the head of the table, encouraging me to sit beside her. Karen shifted down, sitting to the left of me. “First day okay, sweetness?” Karen asked with genuine concern, perhaps sensing my angst and anxiety. All I could do was nod as the rest of the crew eventually made it inside, taking their place at the table with us. Eliza, of course, sat directly opposite me, beside her was Sara. As they all took a seat, they continued to ramble on and chatter about things that didn’t really have any relevance to me. I felt like an odd man out, out of place and out of touch. No one was paying any sort of attention to me, despite the fact that I felt as though a spotlight were shining on me. All too suddenly, I felt sandwiched in. I felt claustrophobic and actually began to fidget with my napkin. Jane noticed this and placed her hand on mine, before saying very softly yet sternly, “Stop that!” It was enough to shake me.

It was also enough to cause another fit of giggles amongst the ladies present.

I recoiled, embarrassed and ashamed, sitting there red-faced as all the ladies around the table proceeded to discuss dry, mundane topics surrounding ‘work’. I sat there, lost in my own world, in a daze as I daydreamed, fantasising about being somewhere else, anywhere else that wasn’t here. I was so absent-minded, I didn’t even notice we’d ordered. In fact, the menus came and went. It turned out Jane had ordered for me, without my knowledge. She’d ordered me chicken nuggets with a side of fries. My beverage would be a small Coke.

I also noticed I’d been given a child’s plate.

Everyone else had gotten a proper meal. Jane had gotten a steak and mashed potatoes. Karen had ordered spinach and ricotta ravioli. Eliza had gotten a bowl of pumpkin soup with croutons. Sara had ordered a Greek salad. It just went on and on like this. Perhaps Jane had ordered me a child’s meal to torment me, or perhaps it was because she was being fiscally responsible…. That’s when it dawned on me, she didn’t see me as a man, in any way whatsoever. Surely the menus came and were passed around, but I was too deep in my daydream that I didn’t even notice. So, of course, she ordered me the same thing she’d seen me eat the last time I had a meal with her. Back when I was nine.

As this was going through my mind, she asked, “Aren’t you hungry, sweetie?”

“Urm, I uh-” before I could finish that thought, she leaned over and proceeded to cut up my chicken nuggets in half with her knife and fork. I looked up at her, perplexed as she shot me a warm grin, followed by a ‘wink’. It made me shudder, especially when I caught Sara staring at me with a mix of confusion and disgust. That’s when she asked out loud, “So, what is our policy on hiring individuals with learning disabilities?”

Jane was taken aback, “What do you mean?”

“I mean uhh, little Timmy there….” She said, pointing at me.

“Oh, Timmy just needs some extra help, a push if you will,” Jane smiled at me, “Isn’t that right?” she looked back over at Sara, “I have known little Timmy for well over twenty years, I’ve seen him grow up so in a way… I guess I kind of see him like a little nephew of sorts,” she declared, “I think the last time we hung out was just before you went off to college?” she mused out loud before glancing back at me, “Do you remember that?”

My mind wandered back to that fateful day, the weekend before I moved out of my home. Despite being 18 years old, I hadn’t yet gotten my license, so I pretty much relied on friends and family to take me around. On that fateful day, I was to meet some friends at the shopping mall, catch a movie, and spend some time in the arcade – kind of a last hurrah. Unfortunately, my mother was unable to give me a ride, so she asked Jane to help out instead. I recall feeling nervous and anxious, experiencing a particularly intense flush and feeling overwhelmed. Yes, I had a huge crush on her in my boyhood. Back then, it was even more amplified. Sitting next to her on the long drive to the mall left me a frazzled, nervous mess, and it was hard not to stare at her bare legs… on the day she wore a tight, ultra-mini dress, which left very little to the imagination. Those legs were so silky, so toned, so bronzed. She smelt like lavender and coconuts. Her bare arms were slightly more muscular back then, and her upper body was strong and wide. Her breasts, although very obviously fake, complemented her profile. She screamed and oozed sex, and I was completely and utterly smitten. It isn’t good to this day, but back then, even being in her presence left me lightheaded.

So there I was, sitting next to her, unable to speak, and unsure of where to look. I was dead silent, sitting there awkwardly, trying to think unsexy thoughts, but try as I might, I couldn’t hold back that particular feeling, and unfortunately, I felt something stir below the belt. I fought with every fibre of my being to keep it from happening, but fantasies of Jane in spandex, squatting on my hard member, dripping and glistening in sweat, took hold, and I found myself losing my grip on reality. I found myself becoming hot under the collar, excited beyond comprehension in the most embarrassing way. In other words, I’d sprouted a modest little erection. Trying not to draw attention to my rigidity, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, in an unsuccessful attempt to hide it from her.

Of course, she noticed. It was hard not to.

“Whatcha got there, sweetie?” she asked, peering over at my groin. In that moment, I felt like burying myself under a rug and hiding from the world. I was so utterly embarrassed, my cheeks turned beet red as I sat there, in a silly, desperate attempt to shield my erection from her. It didn’t take her long to put two and two together. Once she realised what was happening between my legs, she shot me a cheeky smirk, almost as if she were flattered, “Oh Timmy!” she said tenderly, “aren’t you just the sweetest little thing!” she added before snickering aloud, “aww…. You ‘like’ me, don’t you?” she teased.

I don’t know what the hell came over me, and it came from nowhere, taking me completely by surprise. Perhaps it was the attention, perhaps it was her scent, perhaps it was the fact that I was so close to my dream woman, a woman I’d fantasised about for years…. but then and there, I climaxed in my pants without touching myself. I heaved and panted, gasping for air like a dying fish, “Ngh! Mft! Owha! Mng!” She, of course, was taken aback, looking me over in awe and wonder as a wet patch formed in the crotch of my pants. She recoiled, upturning her face as a look of bewilderment washed over her. Then, with genuine sorrow, she gave me a tender, sympathetic smile before adding, “Oh, Timmy…. You poor little thing…” She said softly with concern, “Are you okay?”

I winced in response, embarrassed and ashamed, “ngh, I’m uhh, I’m so sorry….” I was so overwhelmed, I felt my face flush as I tried hard to keep from breaking down and bawling my eyes out in front of her, “I didn’t mean to, I’m…ungh, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry-”

“shhh, shhh…..” she actually ‘shushed’ me, saying, “it’s okay sweetie. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s perfectly natural. You’re such a little sweetheart, so delicate and precious,” she reached over, placing a hand on my tender bits, rubbing the wet stain, applying pressure, “aww honey! You made such an icky mess too!” she declared, almost impressed, “it’s everywhere!” she said aloud causing me to gaze down at the prominent wet stain between my legs.

“You can’t walk around in public like that, everyone will think you wet yourself!” she declared. Then she said something that took me completely by surprise, “I have the afternoon free, I’d be happy to take you shopping? Maybe buy you some new threads? Kind of my way of saying goodbye and congratulations before you leave for college.” It felt as though I had no choice, she was forceful, insistent and made it clear that it was non-negotiable.

When we eventually arrived at the shopping mall, she dragged me into an upscale men’s clothing store. I remember following her down the aisles as she grabbed garment after garment off the rack. I was forced to waddle around cradling a pile of shorts, trousers, jeans and of course underwear. I later found myself in a private booth, standing before a long mirror as I tried on item after item. Thankfully, she didn’t intrude, nor did she ask for a ‘fashion show’. In the end, she purchased me a pair of briefs and a pair of brown trousers, which I wore out of the store. “Thank you, Aunt Jane,” I said nervously, “You didn’t have to urr… do that.”

“Timmy, you’re such a cute little sweetie! It was the least I could do,” she said with a bemused smirk.

I inhaled sharply before asking in desperation, “Please, uhhh, don’t tell anyone about my umm…. my accident? Please?” I pleaded.

She smiled at me, warmly yet mockingly, a wide eyed triumphant grin, “why, I don’t know what you mean,” she teased before adding, “splat, splat, splat…” she smirked at me before erupting into laughter, “I’m just teasing! Of course. It’ll be our little secret,” she said, finally putting me at ease before playfully tussling my hair.

From there, I thanked her once more and wandered off to find my friends. It would be decades before I’d see her again. That one incident had a profound impact on my sexual confidence, stalling it to an extent, and I’d largely blocked out that memory…. now it was flooding back.

I was brought back to reality as she asked me once more, “Timmy! Remember that?”

I looked at her, nervously, anxiously, “hard to forget,” I whispered.

Karen chimed in, “Hard to forget?” She looked over at Jane for further clarification, “Why was it hard to forget?”

Jane grimaced as a wide grin washed over her, reminiscing about my ‘incident’. “My god, it was almost twenty years ago! Besides, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” she declared, which of course fuelled the fire.

“Oh, do tell!” Eliza leaned forward in anticipation.

“Yes, please”, Wendy added.

“No, no, I can’t. I simply can’t,” Jane said before shooting an almost sympathetic, sad smirk my way, “It was a ‘blast’… I’ll leave it at that. You ladies can use your own imaginations on that one,” she said to my utter disbelief.

Of course, saying nothing, with a hint of saying something, made it seem so much worse than it actually was. What followed was a ruckus round of laughter as I sat there, humiliated and red-faced, trying to block it all out. Again, I began to fidget. Again, Jane slapped my hands and sternly said, “Stop it!” More laughter ensued.

After lunch, we found ourselves back on site, this time with Jane taking charge as she led Sara and me through to the main distribution centre. Eliza and her crew will not be joining us further. “Have fun, you two!” Eliza called out, “And Timmy, make sure you pay attention!” she said as if she were talking to an impaired child. I shuddered as Eliza and her crew waddled off towards the main office. Needless to say, that comment left me fuming, although the damage to my image had already been eviscerated beyond repair at that point. I simply had no fight left in me. Sara turned away from me, giving me the cold shoulder. It was clear what she thought of me: ‘loser’, ‘ wimp’, ‘ freak’. I was way, way, way beneath her and not even worthy of her presence. It was a privilege to even breathe the same air as her, at least that’s how it felt to me at the time.

“They’re not joining us?” Sara asked Jane.

“Oh no, they’re part of the quotes and processing team. Yes, Eliza is in management, but they’re not really involved with this side of the business. I think it’s important for you, however, quite often, clients demand to see what’s happening or are curious about our base of operations. It’s vital to understand how everything is manufactured, put together and distributed. Additionally, it will greatly help you master the language, especially when it’s time to delve into technical details. You’ll find most clients often want to talk shop, so it is vital you’re up to date with everything coming, going out and everything we’ve got brewing in the works…”

“And…. Why is little Timmy here? Isn’t he also with quotes and processing?” Sara asked me, almost as though I wasn’t even standing there.

“Well, from time to time, he’ll be required to assist in the hub. For you, it’s also rather important to know what’s going on back here,” she said as she powered on down the site out of earshot. I struggled to keep up.

“Everything is automated, so it’s really quite a simple process,” Jane said as she began discussing the general day-to-day operations.

There was a system of suspended tracks, automated trays, robotic arms and a variety of storemen milling about, back and forth. It was an overwhelmingly busy, cluttered space with delicate medical supplies being handled with care; this also included a wide variety of drugs. Before too long, Jane paused in front of a wide pane of glass. I peered inside only to notice what appeared to be quite a mammoth room. There were at least twenty men in hazmat suits who were busy at work, ripping open boxes and placing the contents into automated robotic trays.

“Now, pay attention, Timmy, this applies to you,” Jane began, “We call this room the ‘blue room’. So basically, twice a week, I’ll have you set up in here. It’s pretty simple,” Jane went about indicating what was happening on the other side of the glass. It was almost as though she were narrating a story of sorts. I looked over, focusing on one of the packers as he proceeded to go about his work, “As you can see, you unpack the large yellow box there, removing its contents completely. This is done with delicacy and care. Then you place it into one of ‘our’ boxes, then you label and place it into the tray. Then you repeat, again and again. Pretty simple, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” I said, feigning interest. All I could think was ‘how mundane and tedious!’

“Why are they all wearing hazmat suits?” Sara asked.

“Oh, that’s a precaution. For safety, you often deal with toxic chemicals in there. We’ve never had an incident, but… It’s better to be safe than sorry,” she said before adding, “So, I’ll get you two to put on some suits and then I’ll show you around.”

Before I knew what was happening, Sara was handed a yellow hazmat suit, and I was handed a white one.

Sara quickly disappeared into the women’s bathroom to put on her suit. I simply stood there, slightly confused and feeling a bit lost. “Go on!” Jane said to me, rather impatiently. ” I haven’t got all day!” she added.

“Sorry, yes, uhh… of course. Sorry, Aunty Jane,” like a child, I lowered my head and aptly took my suit into the men’s room to quickly change. The whole thing felt unnecessary and over the top, but I did as requested. Examining the suit, I realised that it was quite thick. ‘Surely they don’t expect me to strip down to put this on…. But it’s so heavy! I’ll boil in this!’…. I debated with myself for a few minutes before eventually concluding that it would be best to follow what I assumed was the protocol. After all, the last thing I wanted to do was to irritate Jane any further. So, like an idiot, I stripped down to my underwear and aptly put on the hazmat suit.

I folded my clothes neatly and put them on the bench by the sink.

With that, I emerged from the bathroom only to find Jane and Sara, both dressed in identical yellow hazmat suits, impatiently waiting for me. “What on earth took you so long?” Jane asked sternly. I didn’t know how to answer; in fact, I stalled. “Well?….” she said, placing both her hands on her hips, grilling me. In that moment, I felt like a grade school student being scalded by his teacher. “Uhh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know if I had to umm… take my clothes off or not?” I responded meekly.

Sara snickered, letting her amusement be known.

“Oh god!” Jane began, “You’re not naked under there, are you?” Jane asked, annoyed.

“Uhh, no. I’m wearing my underwear….” I said softly.

Sara and Jane shared a knowing look.

“I’m sorry,” I added, not knowing just what else to say.

“Never mind,” Jane began, “Let’s just get on with it…. But for future reference, hazmat suit ‘over’ your clothes. Do you understand?” she asked me.

“Uh-huh,” I responded.

“TIMMY!” she shouted, resting her arms on her hips, scolding me, “I need to hear you say that you understand! This is important!” Jane said, sternly, forcefully, wildly irritated and annoyed with me.

I took a pause, trying to find my voice. The whole thing made me borderline dizzy, “I’m sorry, Aunty Jane. Yes. I understand. I won’t urr… I’ll wear my clothes from now on.” God, I felt so silly.

Beyond the plane of glass, a thick, orange steel door stood, mechanically operated by an automated robotic arm. Once we were inside the ‘blue room’, the one thing that struck me was just how chilly it was. In fact, it was almost like stepping into a giant freezer. I immediately began shivering, feeling my body temperature drop suddenly. In other words, I was cold, so damn cold. I was also unaware of just how mammoth the entire operation was. Directly in front of me, there were rows upon rows of tables as a small army of packers went about their work, unboxing and then reboxing what I assumed were toxic materials. In the distance, a platform and another plane of glass came into view, where a group of people in yellow hazmat suits were busy at work. I assumed they had to be scientists or engineers because they were all huddled around cluttered countertops, with various beakers and glass containers sprawled all over the place. Either way, it seemed as though it were some kind of restricted area, at least restricted to me.

I was taken out of my daze when Jane said aloud, “Timmy, I’ll just leave you with Derek, here!”

Derek was just another drone, dressed in a white hazmat suit, identical to my own. He pulled himself away from his work, politely acknowledging Jane. “Derek,” she began, “this here is little Timmy. Would you mind showing him the ropes for a little while?”

Derek seemed annoyed, perhaps even a little irritated, by my presence. It was clear that he was busy, engrossed in his work and was really just wanting to focus on the task at hand. He didn’t want to waste time ‘showing me the ropes’. I lowered my head, suddenly riddled with anxiety, not at all knowing what to say. Jane continued, “Timmy, I want you to pay special attention to everything he has to say, okay?” All I could do was nod.

“Come on, Sara,” Jane said, turning away.

“Wait!” I called out, “You’re uh, leaving me here?” I asked in utter desperation.

“Just for a little while,” Jane responded, “Oh, relax, Timmy! You’ll be fine,” she paused before adding, “I promise I’ll be back to get you… okay?” she said, almost as though she were comforting a distraught child. With that, she and Sara wandered off, heading up toward the main platform. I heard Sara ask, “How do you dispose of hazardous materials here?”

“Oh, well, we use Coleman and sons, they provide us with an adequate waste management plan, which they monitor our sustain…-,” Jane continued as they both walked off out of my earshot. I looked on with a deep pang in my chest as a sinking feeling took hold. I was being abandoned, left out, left behind. I longed to be near Jane; I oddly felt safe in her presence. Now, I was standing next to a gruff ruffian, who literally grunted at me. “Just do as I do,” he said, focusing his attention on the large grey plastic box before him.

Without care, he tore open the box, removing polystyrene and random bits of loose plastic and cardboard. The product, which was essentially just another box, coated in a thin film of foam and polyvinyl, was then placed into a paper-thin polypropylene container, which was plastered with the company logo along with the name ‘Fletcher and Felicity’ in bold block letters. With that, a freshly printed barcode label was placed on the spine of the box, before it was then placed into a nearby tray. “Easy?” he said without looking at me.

“Yeah, I can manage that,” I responded in almost a whisper.

As I went about completing the mundane task, my mind wandered, thinking about the man I used to be. Back in the day, I was a high roller. I commanded respect. I was managing multiple multi-million-dollar deals, often while juggling a very active social calendar. I was respected, adored, and, above all, the envy of many. Now, I was dressed in a hazmat suit, completing the most tedious, boring task I’d ever done. This was boring, mind-numbingly boring, and I knew I was better than this, than all of these uneducated blue-collar morons. As I went about unpacking and repacking, my mind further wandered, thinking about how Jane must view me in light of recent events. I longed to show her who I truly was, who I’d become, who I’d grown into…. But as the gravity of my current situation brought me back down to earth, I realised just how far I’d fallen. I was a failure. I’d lost everything. I had been battered, beaten, and now I was nothing, I had nothing, and I was a nobody. I belonged with these retards. All too suddenly, I felt panic rising from within. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I knew I just had to get the hell out of there.

“Hey, uhh….” He didn’t hear me, so I called out again, “Eric!?”

“It’s Derek”, he responded without looking at me.

“Umm… I gotta take a leak,” I said, expecting some type of reaction from him, “do you mind if I uhh….”

“Go take a piss. I don’t care,” he responded, still very much focused on the task before him.

I shuddered as I pulled myself away from the workbench, slowly making my way towards the rear platform near the main exit. I passed through a plastic hanging opening and gently pressed the ‘exit’ lever, anxiously waiting for the robotic orange steel door to swing open. All too suddenly, jets from above sprayed me with a mist of liquid for close to five seconds. With that, a green light indicated that the orange door was opening.

I inhaled sharply as I powered on through, more than desperate to get the hell out of there.

I quickly barged into the men’s room, practically ripping off my helmet before taking a breather. “oh god….” I panted to myself, “What the hell has happened to me?” I groaned aloud, feeling every little bit lost, defeated and very much tortured. Then… something sent me into a full-blown tailspin.

My clothes, which I had neatly folded and placed on the bench…. were gone.

“oh god no!” I panted, “No, no, no,” I was on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack, “No, not again!” I winced, realising that once again, I found myself in a state of near nudity, in public. Frantically, I searched the bathroom, falling to my hands and knees, looking under every crevasse, every stall, every cabinet, everything… I crawled about on the floor in utter desperation, but alas, I was unable to find my clothes. No, they had not fallen to the ground; no, they hadn’t been placed in the nearby trashcan… someone had taken them.

I rose from the floor, trying desperately to remain calm. It was clear to me that a janitor had seen them and, clearly following protocol, had decided to discard them. I knew that if I could just locate said janitor, everything would be okay. ‘Surely, he couldn’t have gotten that far!’ I thought to myself.

I also knew I couldn’t be wandering around a busy, crowded warehouse wearing nothing but my underwear, so I put my helmet back on, neglecting to zip up my hazmat suit properly. After all, I wasn’t heading back into the ‘blue room’, I was going to scour the main area with desperate hopes of finding the motherfucking janitor before it was too late.

Frantic, dressed in my white hazmat suit, I practically bolted out of the men’s room, eager to scour the main warehouse.

I searched everywhere.

I waddled up a flight of stairs towards a workshop. Nothing.

I waddled back down towards the main walkway, pausing to scan the area. Nothing.

I waddled up towards the far platform, near the storage bay. Nothing.

I waddled down towards the rear of the site, near the distribution bay. Nothing.

I couldn’t find anyone who even closely resembled a janitor. Everyone was wearing thick blue pants, long-sleeve blue button-down shirts, along with steel-capped boots, safety goggles, and reflective vests. I, on the other hand, stuck out like a sore thumb, garnering a great deal of attention. In fact, as I made my way through, almost everyone would stop and stare at me.

Then, like a miracle, in the far corner of my eye, I spotted him. A man pushing what appeared to be a cart. Assuming he was the janitor, I proceeded to approach him, but before I could even come close, a booming, gruff voice completely startled me, shaking me to my very core, “HEY!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” the man shouted.

I paused in terror, looking over my shoulder.

This was Amar Singh, the senior workplace health and safety officer. Although he was a particularly short man, he was in command, in control and overwhelmingly confident. His demeanour meant business. This was not a man you’d want to challenge. In that instant, I was utterly terrified. He practically barged on toward me as I stood there, frozen in fear, anticipating some kind of ‘beat down’.

“You cannot be down here dressed like that! Do you hear me!? Just what the hell are you doing down here? You’re going to get yourself seriously hurt! You’re not even wearing the right shoes! Are you a complete moron?! What are you doing down here?!” he barked at me.

“Urhh, well I uh-”

“Hold it!” he said, rattling me. “Did you just come from the blue room?” he asked.

All I could do in that moment was nod, far too terrified to speak.

“Your suit isn’t on properly,” he said, almost aghast.

Before I could respond, he shouted out in sheer frustration, “FUCK!!!” and then aptly reached for his radio, saying, “Code orange,” in a rather desperate tone.

“What’s a code orange?” I asked, meekly.

In an instant, a booming alarm took over. I stood there, gobsmacked and perplexed, as hundreds of workers filled out forms, all in unison, all calm, albeit with a great deal of urgency. Every single one of them executed an obvious well well-prepared evacuation of the warehouse. I had no idea just what the hell to do, so I simply stood there as the world moved around me.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Amar practically ushered me out of the warehouse along with everyone else. He was fuming, and it was very clearly all my fault. I wanted to tell him it was all a misunderstanding, that I in no way had done anything remotely dangerous, but I was far too caught up in the moment.

Yes, I was led outside and paraded around in front of the entire staff. All the commotion had even garnered attention from the main office. In fact, more than half of the women, including Eliza, Wendy, Zoe and Karen, had come out to see just what the hell was going on.

To my utter and absolute horror, I was forcefully led towards the safety shower. This was a mammoth outdoor emergency shower, consisting of a drain and a large triangular handle, front and centre. It was not private; there were no curtains, no dividers, no panels, nothing. It was literally an open public outdoor shower. What made matters worse was that it was in full view of every single employee. Everyone was quite literally standing before me, waiting in anticipation. The vast majority of them were beyond annoyed with me.

Amar then said something that shook me down to my very core, “Strip!” he said aloud, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Huh?” I responded in a state of overwhelming shock.

Just then, I noticed Jane and Sara emerge from the crowd, both curious and concerned. Jane forced herself on through and approached Amar with an air of superiority, “Oh, Amar! Is this really necessary?” she asked, trying to reason with him, trying hard to appeal to his sense of decency, “Look at the poor thing! He’s on the verge of crying!”

His dominant personality certainly let her know that this was his domain and he was in charge, “This is a compliance issue, Jane! I have to start filling out an incident report. I have to let Nick and Chester know that we’re shutting down for the rest of the day, because,” Amar pointed at me, raising his voice even more, “this fucking idiot didn’t put his hazmat suit on properly before stepping into the blue room!”

Jane continued in her efforts to protect me, “But Amar, he wa-”

“-he didn’t put on his suit properly. He’s been exposed!” he barked, interrupting her, “isn’t he your responsibility? Was he not given the mandatory rundown? I am certainly going to point this out in my report, naming you!” he blasted her.

I’d never seen Jane intimidated before, but she quickly retreated. I looked over at her in utter desperation, expecting her to save me. A deep sinking feeling took over as I soon realised that it would all be moot; I was well and truly done for.

“STRIP!!” he commanded once more, practically shouting in extreme frustration and anger.

Nervously, in front of a large audience, I proceeded to peel off my suit, exposing myself to the entire crowd. Before too long, I stood before the entire staff body, wearing nothing but a pair of tight white underpants. To top it off, I was cold, practically shivering.

Then I heard sniggers. Followed by muffled laughter.

Slowly, I gazed over at the crowd. Most seemed amused by what was about to unfold.

I locked eyes with Karen, who simply arched her eyebrows at me, “What are the odds, huh?” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. With that, laughter erupted from the crowd. “Oh god….” Zoe exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement as she literally fell into Eliza’s arms, the two of them laughing their asses off like a couple of school girls.

I gazed over at Jane, expecting her to intervene. Instead, she shot me a look of disapproval, shaking her head at me, disappointed and irritated. I’d gotten her in trouble, and now, she was surely going to be disciplined in one way or another. I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, and I could sense her disdain. In that moment, I was so utterly ashamed.

Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Amar shouted, “Take everything off! Get in the shower! NOW!!” he literally screamed.

I couldn’t believe my ears, “everything!? Please! No! I uh-” I began, literally on the verge of bawling my eyes out.

Amar was in no mood, “NOW!!” he repeated, screaming at me once more.

Perhaps out of sheer intimidation, I quickly proceeded to peel off my underwear. All the while I was trembling, not out of shame and embarrassment, but mostly out of fear. The man terrified me. To top it off, I was freezing, quite literally shivering the whole time. So there I was pulling my underwear down to my ankles, exposing myself to all the staff at Fletcher and Felicity.

The laughter continued. It felt like I was standing exposed before an auditorium; I’d certainly never felt so vulnerable before. Peering down at my shame, I’d realised that my peter had retreated inside of me, resembling a pale button, or a light switch. I crouched over and slightly turned away in a desperate attempt to hide. Everyone had very clearly seen my lack of masculinity. I locked eyes with Sara, who gazed over my body with obvious disgust. My eyes darted over to Jane, in utter desperation. She simply furrowed her brow at me, irritated and perhaps even a little ashamed of me. Behind them, the laughter went on and on.

“GO ON!” Amar barked at me, draining out the laughter, “GET IN!” he shouted.

Reluctantly, I stepped on the grate, not quite knowing just what the hell to expect. Anxiously, I cupped my crotch and squeezed my legs together, beyond humiliated.

“I uhh, what do I…” I began, meekly, softly.

From the crowd, someone called out, “Pull it!”

My face painted the picture of someone well out of his depth, confused, lost and afraid. Someone else also shouted out, “Pull it!”

“The lever!” another person called out from the crowd.

“Huh?” was all I could muster.

“Pull the lever, you stupid moron!” Amar barked at me.

I wanted to reason with the man, letting him know that I was not exposed to hazardous chemicals and that this had happened after I’d left the blue room. But in that moment, I just wanted to get this over and done with; I just wanted this nightmare to end. I kept modesty shielded, and with my right hand, I reached out and pulled hard on the hanging triangular lever.

In an instant, a gallon of ice-cold water gushed out all over me. It took me completely by surprise. I actually let out a blood-curdling scream as the pressure of the stream completely winded me. In my haste, I raised both arms above my head in an attempt to protect my face, inadvertently exposing my meagre genitals to the entire crew.

The whole thing was over after fifteen seconds, but it left me a whimpering, shivering, blubbering mess.

Everyone looked on in shock as I stood before them, dripping wet. My little bits and pieces on display, hardly enough there to dangle.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and scanned the faces of the crowd before me. In shame, I hunched over before quickly cupping my crotch with both hands once more.

Amar turned his wrath to Jane, “I don’t want him down here again! Do I make myself clear?! The next time I see him, he’s gone. This is his FIRST warning! AND I will personally see to it that YOU are reprimanded with him. Chester is certainly going to hear about this!” With that, Amar looked over at the smiling faces of the crew before him, “Okay, everyone! We’re shut down for the day. If you work in the hub, go home. I’ll see you all tomorrow. First thing in the morning, I’ll be hosting a detailed Occupational Health and Safety session. It’s compulsory! For everyone!! Even office staff,” he shot me a look of disdain, “if you want to keep your job, I expect you to be there front and centre!”

With that, everyone slowly began to scatter and disperse. Even the office staff retreated inside. The show was well and truly over. Karen and Eliza chuckled amongst themselves as they headed back into the main reception area. “Such a poor thing, so little and dainty,” I heard Karen say aloud, with genuine sympathy, “he looks just like a normal man too! Such a shame,” she added. Eliza scoffed before chiming in, “Did I ever tell you what he was like in high school?” She looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with me from afar as she continued. Karen looked on in shock and awe as Eliza proceeded to tell her something about me, particularly embarrassing from my past. I couldn’t make out what they were saying to one another, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Before too long, they’d retreated into the building, leaving me standing there, gazing over the horizon with a new level of sorrow and emptiness within.

After a few minutes, everyone was gone.

I stood there, frozen in shame and fear, shivering on the cold steel grate, still naked as the day I was born.

Jane approached me with a disapproving leer. She stood before me and folded her arms. Behind her, Sara stood, now struggling hard to keep a straight face. Something inside her had clearly shifted; whereas she had been grossed out and disgusted by me before, now she was wildly entertained. My predicament was somehow funny to her, or at least she was enjoying my torment for some odd reason. Jane then took me out of my daze, bringing me back down to earth, “What am I going to do with you, Timmy? What do you have to say for yourself?” she asked, sternly.

“I’m sorry…” I said softly.

“We’ll talk about this later. Because of your nonsense, I’m late for my meeting! Not only that, you’ve cost us money!” she was frustrated, agitated, angry, very angry with me, “Let’s get inside!” she said, turning, expecting me to follow.

“Urhhh…” I called out to her, “Jane, urmmm…” I was on the verge of yet another meltdown, “Aunty Jane!….” I called out again, this time in desperation, “I lost my clothes. I’m urhhh, I don’t…. I’m naked! I can’t go back in there!!! Again! I can’t let everyone see me like this!! It isn’t very comfortable! Please! Please no! Please don’t make me!” I pleaded with her, all the while shuddering in extreme shame and embarrassment.

“It doesn’t matter. Everyone has already seen it! GET INSIDE!!” she barked at me, letting her fury be known.

This was enough to rattle me, and I actually found myself bolting, slightly terrified of her for the very first time. Sara, of course, found my predicament wildly amusing, to the point where she could no longer contain herself; she burst out laughing. Jane didn’t seem to care.

As I walked through the main doors at reception, Karen locked eyes with me, followed by a wide-eyed grin. “Poor little Timmy,” she said softly, albeit with a strong tone of mockery. I, of course, quickly averted my gaze, aptly lowering my head. I also managed to keep my delicate little bits shielded from her. I very quickly waddled past her, desperate to disappear.

Of course, disappearing was not at all in the cards.

As soon as I entered the main bullpen, I was astonished to see all thirty women, all rising from their seats, followed by a long, drawn-out, sarcastic round of applause. I stood there frozen as I gazed over the faces of the amused women before me. I locked eyes with Eliza, who was very clearly marvelling at my predicament. It then dawned on me that it was perhaps she who had arranged this spectacle, this odd, uncomfortable ‘welcome’. I frowned at her, letting my resentment be known. In turn, she mock-pouted at me, letting me know that she was in control. She, in fact, intensified her clapping.

Thankfully, Jane was in no mood for this type of candour. “THAT’S ENOUGH!” she shouted, irritated. It was enough to silence everyone. “For god sake! Grow up!! Everyone! I thought you were all adults! Not school children!” What followed was an uncomfortable silence.

“Get back to work!” she added before walking off to her office, “and someone get me some coffee!” she said, slamming her door shut behind her.

“Oops!” Eliza grimaced before breaking out into a slight chuckle.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur.

Sara was eventually shown her new corner office, complete with private access to the corporate lounge and a private bathroom. I largely didn’t speak to her for the remainder of the day; in fact, she pretty much went out of her way to avoid me altogether.

Whereas Sara would get her own private workspace, I, on the other hand, was told that I would not even be receiving a cubicle of my own; instead, I was set up with a laptop on the main communal desk in the very centre of the bullpen. It felt as though I had a spotlight shining on me. As naked and as exposed as I was, my nudity was largely ignored. As soon as the novelty wore off, everyone returned to work, and I was given a set of tasks to complete. I was more than grateful that I could remain seated for the majority of the day, with my bits hidden by the desk. I was essentially given a spreadsheet and told that the numbers 7 and 9 were missing from the last 300 order numbers. So I essentially had to sift through a long spreadsheet, double-checking order numbers and making relevant changes. I was then instructed to print out all corrected orders, collate them, and place them into a series of colour-coded binders. Another lengthy, tedious task, beneath me, not at all worthy of my talents. However, I was very happy to be busy, hidden, and focused on something that took me out of the public view.

Perhaps the only time I felt truly uneasy was when I had to venture to the copier in order to collect my newly printed orders. I stood awkwardly, trying to hide my shame, but it was clear, after thirty minutes, that no one was really paying any attention to me anymore. Everyone was focused on their own work. So, I eventually stopped covering myself, letting everything hang free as I went about completing the task at hand.

On my way back to my desk, Eliza cornered me and asked me how I was progressing. Before I could answer, she’d snatched the wad of papers out of my hands and began to peruse them as I stood before her, naked, exposed, with my little nubbin on display. I debated with myself whether or not I should cover up… I then decided, covering up would probably draw more attention to myself. Instead, I stood there awkwardly as she sifted through my work. I could feel eyes on me as this went on. Eventually, her eyes met mine with a smile, and she said, “Not bad! Pretty good actually,” she added, genuinely impressed.

Just as I was about to head back to my allotted workspace, she stopped me with a request, “Timmy! I don’t suppose you could get me a coffee? It’s been such a long day,” she said, almost tenderly.

Zoe rose from her seat and called out, “I could do with a coffee.”

“Me too!” Jasmine declared.

“Oh yeah, I’d love a coffee!” Wendy added.

From there, I waddled off to the break room, where I proceeded to make at least fifteen cups of coffee. Somehow, I became the ‘office bitch’ and it was my duty to fetch coffee for anyone at all who was keen. So there I was, naked, standing before the coffee machine, inserting pod after pod. The whole thing left me feeling flustered, and it soon dawned on me, I was nothing more than a naked servant, there to complete the most menial tasks while everyone around me went about their work.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I found myself waddling back and forth, delivering coffee after coffee to almost every cubicle. It seemed as though every time I thought I was done, someone else would make a request, and the whole process would start all over again. It felt odd doing this all in the buff, but as time went on, I realised that most women simply didn’t care. In fact, they largely ignored me as I handed them their beverage, not even so much as acknowledging me as I stood before them, completely naked, gently placing their brew on the desk beside them.

Wendy, however, felt it necessary to flick my penis with her pen. It was a very unusual interaction, and it occurred while she was on the phone. I simply placed her coffee beside her, and her way of acknowledging me was to give my little dick a little flick. She shot me a smile as she continued her conversation on the phone. I turned three shades of red as I shuddered in embarrassment, aptly backing away and exiting her cubicle.

I had a similar experience with Zoe, who felt it necessary to ask, “Does your little penis ever get hard?” This completely winded me to the point where I almost spilled her cup of coffee. I locked eyes with her and realised that, no, she was not teasing me; it was a genuine question. “Yes. Of course. It gets big-” before I could finish my sentence, her phone rang, “Fletcher and Felicity, Zoe speaking….” She shot me a kind smile, indicating that it was time for me to leave. I lowered my head and slowly backed away and out of there as she continued about her work.

Helen, who was also mid-conversation on the phone, actually reached forth and massaged my inner thigh, gently brushing against my little testicles. This caused me to shudder, resulting in a slight chuckle from her, “Oh, nothing!” she said on the phone, “I just thought of something small and it made me laugh,” she shot me a look and a wink, letting me know she was well and truly in charge. I blushed as I quickly waddled away, my little pee-pee bobbing up and down as I walked.

Upon returning to my desk, I noticed another bunch of ‘Post-it notes’ stuck to my laptop screen. Eliza was requesting changes to the work I’d completed, which essentially meant the whole process would have to be restarted. Internally, I groaned, but I was happy to be at least busy and hidden once more.

Soon thereafter, Eliza approached me, “How are you holding up?” she asked. I slowly swivelled my chair to face her, momentarily forgetting that I was naked. “I should have this done by…” As I spoke, I noticed her eyes slowly peering down. I too looked in unison. There we were, both of us staring at my flaccid inverted manhood, barely poking out of my pubic mound. It occurred to me that in that moment, I well and truly looked sexless. Embarrassed, I shifted away from her, crossing my legs. She let out a soft chuckle before adding, “As long as it’s done by tomorrow afternoon, little Timmy.” With that, she walked off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. That last interaction with her completely rattled me, and I found it next to impossible to regain my focus.

At 4:30 pm, I was summoned into Jane’s office.

Standing before her, my instinct was to cover myself, which quickly resulted in a look of drawn-out sympathy, “I’m so sorry about today….” I said, meekly, softly in almost a whimper. Jane cocked her head, desperate to change the subject, as clearly something else was on her mind. “Your mother called me. Apparently, she’s unable to pick you up this afternoon… Which means, I’ll be giving you a lift home,” she declared, all business.

“Oh,” I responded, nervously, as a chill ran up my spine.

“But, I still have a great deal of work to finish up, so… We probably won’t leave till well after 7 pm,” she said, making it very clear I had no choice in the matter. Sensing my angst, she continued, “You can keep busy in the meantime. I’m told you’re correcting the Solomon accounts. That should take you a while,” I stood there awkwardly for a few moments and just when I thought things couldn’t get more uncomfortable, she turned away from me and said, “That’ll be all…” With the wave of a hand, I was dismissed.

At 5:30 pm, one by one, each of the ladies began to leave.

Sara was picked up by a muscular, blocky man, a truly impressive oak of a man. I looked on in envy as he clung to her as if she were some type of trophy. She took great delight in showing off her new office and introducing him to some of her new colleagues. “Eliza! This is my fiancé, Mark!” she said, to which Eliza actually looked him up and down with a long, drawn-out lustful gaze. From there, she proceeded to give him a tour of her new workspace, introducing him to almost everyone in the office. He certainly garnered plenty of attention. I looked on, expecting her to come my way, but she never ventured into my area. She didn’t even come near me; in fact, I don’t think he even noticed me, despite the fact that I was standing front and centre, completely nude.

Eventually, they’d leave, and the remaining ladies in the office began prattling on about how ‘hot’ Sara’s boo was. Inside, I felt that deep pang in my chest again. It was a pang of jealousy. I wanted to be lusted after. I wanted to have a girl like Sara. I wanted to be an impressive oak that women just want to climb. Yes, I felt that pang in my chest and it hurt. As this was going through my mind, Eliza walked on past me, her handbag draped over her shoulder. She was done for the day, “See you tomorrow, little Timmy….” Before I had the chance to respond, she was gone, along with everyone else.

Before too long, I was alone, well and truly alone in the bullpen, yes, Jane was still there, but she was in her office, behind a locked door.

I sighed sharply before continuing with my mundane task, more than desperate to just get on with it, trying ever so hard to impress her with my work ethic at least. I felt as though I’d actually gotten some real work done; perhaps she wouldn’t be as angry with me anymore.

At 8:15 pm, I heard her keys jingling as she locked her office door.

I tore myself from my work, aptly rising. Perhaps out of respect, I stood there submissively, gently lowering my eyes to the ground. My hands slowly covered my lack of masculinity from view. I heard the click-clack of her heels as she strode over towards me.

“What a long day!” she exclaimed as she approached me. Her demeanour seemed somehow different from our previous interaction, softer and warmer.

I felt her coming in close to me. I kept my eyes down, perhaps as a show of respect.

Then, I felt her index finger on my chin as she gently forced me to raise my head, causing me to lock eyes with her. She stared at me for a while as a smile washed over her. “Are you okay?” she asked, to which I nodded, still cautious about my response and reactions around her.

“I just got off the phone with Chester,” sensing my confusion, she explained, “Chester Felicity? He’s one of the owners. I explained that you were new and kind of confused about what we do here. I also told him that you’re a little sweetie and were in no way a liability. In other words, I’ve taken care of it. Your job is safe,” she said with a wide, triumphant grin. “However, I think moving forward, you should probably stick closer to me. I’ll have you set up in my office, and you can work directly under me as my personal assistant moving forward. How does that sound?” she asked.

Joy shook me as well as a deep-founded appreciation for her efforts. She’d gone to bat for me. It was clear she cared about me, and in that moment, once again, I was transformed into that love-sick 18-year-old. I essentially turned into a stuttering, blubbering mess, unable to speak and unable to truly display my gratitude. My reaction amused her. She tussled my hair and pinched my cheek.

Then she handed me her bag, “Carry this!” she said sternly yet playfully.

Eagerly, I took hold of her bag before she turned and charged out of the office. I followed her, waddling close behind, almost like a puppy.

The drive home was surreal. As I sat there anxiously, gazing over her toned, silky legs, I couldn’t help but think, ‘I’ve done this before!’ I was experiencing a serious case of déjà vu. Nervously, my eyes wandered over her perfectly sculpted body; her outfit clung to her, highlighting her hard work. Yes, she was well into her fifties, but could’ve easily passed for a woman closer to my age. She radiated beauty and confidence, and made me feel weak at the knees.

She clung to her wheel, gazing out over the road, occasionally glancing over at me with a warm smile.

Yes, I’d been through this with her before, only this time, I was naked.

My mind wandered, imagining her dressed in nothing but a shoestring bikini, glistening in lotion as she sunbathed by the beach. I imagined how incredible that toned, bronzed body would look wet. I then imagined her in the throes of passion, no, not with me, but with someone able-bodied. In other words, someone with a big cock. A goddess like Jane deserves to be satisfied and pleasured by someone with a mammoth cock. I then began to wonder how incredible she’d look, dripping in sweat, watching those toned legs wrapped around the torso of a muscular, dark, dark-skinned stud as he pumped her for all she was worth, her heels digging into his buttocks. I could hear her screams of pleasure, egging him on to plough her harder, faster, bringing her to the very brink of ecstasy.

I was losing myself in my silly boyhood fantasy, staring at her body hard, lost in my daydream, myself getting hot under the metaphorical collar as I found myself breaking a sweat.

I also managed to sprout an erection, and as soon as I realised what was happening to my body, panic set in.

Like twenty years prior, I shifted in my seat in an attempt to shield myself from her.

Of course, she noticed.

“Ummm…. Timmy?” she began, borderline muddled, “what is happening down there?” she asked, clearly knowing full well what was going on, teasing me a little.

Unfortunately, there was no hiding her effect on me, so I uncovered myself, allowing her to see me in all my glory. My little erection reached its pinnacle at 4.5 inches, bobbing lightly with my heartbeat.

She glanced over at my groin before her eyes slowly met mine, “aww Timmy….” She said, her voice trailing off. A supportive yet sorrowful smile spread across her face.

All too suddenly, I felt foolish. Here I was exposing myself to my boss! Instinct took over as I crossed my legs and covered myself, becoming overly apologetic, “oh god! Umm, I’m so sorry, Jane! Urr… Aunty Jane, I urr… oh god, urm…” Sensing my extreme angst and discomfort, she placed a tender hand on my shoulder, letting me know it was okay.

This was a gentle touch, enough to calm my nerves. She looked at me with sympathy, adoringly, a sad expression plastered on her face. It then dawned on me, she in no way saw a man seated beside her. She saw a frightened child.

“Nothing to worry about sweetness,” she said softly in an attempt to put me at ease, “it’s perfectly natural…..” she paused, a bemused smirk suddenly washing over her along with a sudden realization, “I feel like it’s exactly what I told you the last time I gave you a ride,” she chuckled this time, finding amusement in the whole scenario. In that moment, I too chuckled along with her, although I was mostly feigning laughter.

“You ‘like’ me, don’t you?” she teased, throwing the same words back at me that she uttered almost two decades prior. Sheepishly, I nodded, which of course fuelled the fire, causing her to erupt in laughter, beyond amused that I would even entertain the idea that she and I could ever be an item.

Red-faced, I sat there as she continued to laugh, finding joy in the whole scenario. “I’m flattered!” she teased, “but I prefer a big boy!” She looked over at my groin once more, “Is that as big as it gets?” I looked down at my throbbing member and back at her with an embarrassed grimace, “awww, sweetie! You’re such a delicate little thing! So precious and sweet!” she teased, “Look at how stiff you are! Almost like a ‘big’ boy”, she joked before reaching over, prodding my dicky with her index finger.

I felt so submissive, almost like a child being scalded by his mother. By now, pre cum was leaking from the tip of my dicky as she kept brushing her fingers along my little head. I shuddered, which caused her to giggle once more, openly at my face, “aww, cutie-pie”, she mock pouted at me, sticking out her lower lip, “teeny peeny is all pent up, isn’t he?” she said in almost a baby voice.

Before I could respond, with her thumb, she gently brushed over my tip, “Such a precious little penis, so delicate and adorable… aww, you’re such a little sweetie… a sweet little boy with a sweet little pee pee,” she chuckled, with a wide-eyed grin. Struggling to keep her focus on the road, she continued to tease me, “awww…. look at that!” she said almost aghast, noticing my precum dripping down my little shaft, “Wittle winky is leaking!” she looked up at me with a grin, flashing her perfect smile at me, “awww….you’re such a naughty little boy!”

That’s all it took.

It happened so fast and I was powerless to control it, “nugh! Mfph!!” I grunted and whimpered as I once again ejaculated in front of her, just like I did almost twenty years prior. This time, I was naked, and as I shot rope after rope of hot cum all over my stomach and thighs, she, of course, recoiled, amused, yet also disgusted. I heaved and panted as I came in buckets, making an almighty mess.

Once it was all over, I sat there, completely deflated, mortified and ashamed.

“Oh dear….” She said tenderly. Her tone painted the picture of someone not only disappointed, but also quite heartbroken for me. It was clear she felt sorry for me. No, it was more than that; she pitied me. “Oh my little sweetie, it’s alright. You poor little thing….” She added, softly looking over at my stomach, coated with cum. Her eyes cast downward, getting another eyeful of my shrinking little nubbin. “Let’s clean you up, shall we?”

Sheepishly, I shrugged, not knowing what to say, where to look or how to react.

Before I knew what was happening, she’d pulled her vehicle over to the side of the road. I sat there, perplexed, overwhelmed and mortifyingly ashamed as she rifled through her purse. Eventually, she’d found what she was looking for, a small packet of tissues.

Expecting her to hand me a tissue to clean up my own mess, I was completely taken by surprise when she leaned over her armrest and proceeded to wipe me down. First, she wiped away all the semen dripping down my stomach, then she proceeded to wipe away the cum that had pooled by my thighs. I looked on mortified as she grabbed a hold of my little penis with her thumb and index finger while she proceeded to gently dab it with a tissue, wiping away any excess fluid. The whole thing seemed odd to me, and yet, she cleaned me up with tenderness and care, almost as though she were cleaning an infant.

When she was done, she gazed back up at me and shot me a warm, yet sympathetic smile.

“I’m so embarrassed….” I said softly, in almost a whisper on the very verge of breaking down once more.

She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, “hey, hey…” she began, tenderly, “it’s okay,” she said, ‘shushing’ me as I began to sob, “oh come-on! Stop that!” she said, trying to calm me down. “It’s really okay! I’m so happy for you…. You should enjoy making cummies, I’m sure it doesn’t really happen all too often for you….” She said, before looking back up at me, her eyes meeting mine.

“Urr… no. I do,” I responded in desperation, “despite what everyone thinks about me, I am a man and I have a normal sex life like a normal man.” I said, fighting back tears of embarrassment and shame.

“Oh, honey!” she began, not quite believing me, “you don’t need to lie to me.” She clasped my penis at its base and gently wagged it back and forth, “Some people just aren’t made for conventional sex. It’s really nothing to be embarrassed about! All men are different,” she paused before giving my little member a gentle tug, “my boyfriend is quite well endowed by comparison. He’s definitely built for sex!”

It felt like a sledgehammer just connected with my chest.

“Don’t be ashamed of your dainty little bits. You’ll find someone who truly appreciates you for who you are. There are some girls out there that don’t really care about sex.” Sensing my angst, she placed a gentle hand on my chest, “Just stop lying to yourself. Accept who you are. My advice for you….. don’t dwell on it. Some men simply aren’t suited for such adult activities. So why even bother? You have so many other wonderful qualities….” She said tenderly.

I let out a deep, winded sigh of defeat, hanging my head in shame. “I know…” I said softly, “I’ve never really been able to please a woman, sexually,” I admitted, “maybe you’re right.”

“Doesn’t it feel better to admit that?” she exclaimed, “You can stop pretending now. This is who you are.” She looked me over once more with a warm smile, “You should try and be comfortable in your own skin, embrace your body in all of its flaws. Yes, you have a delicate little penis, but it’s simply adorable. It’s so cute!”

“But it’s not for sex?” I asked, hopeful.

“It’s sweet, but I think it’s just an appendage for the removal of bodily waste,” she said in a consoling manner, “so delicate and precious,” she added.

Before I could muster a response, she said, “Let’s get you home, shall we? I’m sure your mother is worried sick!”

When I eventually made it home, Jane dropped me off in the driveway, her engine still running. I gazed over at the house only to realise that all the lights were off. Clearly, no one was home.

“I still have a job?” I asked Jane, sheepishly.

“At a diminished capacity,” she responded.

“Oh….” I said, softly, “Okay then. Urm… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I responded.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked me.

“Uh-huh…. My parents keep a key under the mat. Urm…. You could come in if you like?” I asked, nervously.

She shot me a long-winded look of sorrow, followed by a tender, warm smile. “Oh, Timmy,” she began, “afraid of the dark?” she asked with a tone of mockery.

“Urhh… no, I just…. I urm….” My voice trailed off, uneasy. The truth was, I didn’t want to be alone, and I certainly felt like I needed to be near her in that moment.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie…. Any other day absolutely, but,” she paused, glancing over at her watch, “Anton is waiting for me.”

“Anton?” I asked, my voice quivering.

She shot me another sympathetic smile, “Good night, little Timmy. See you tomorrow.” Her eyes peered down to my shrunken little dick, quivering and trembling as it further shrank into my pubic mound, almost disappearing completely.

Before I could respond, she tore out of the driveway, leaving me standing there, stark naked, shivering and alone. I winced, knowing that tomorrow would be a particularly difficult day. But that’s another story altogether.

To Be Continued…

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