Here's a little piece of flash fiction for this Friday....
It was just another Friday afternoon with an early exit from the office. Nathan was looking forward to getting home, relaxing and watching his alma mater who'd made it to the "Sweet 16." He'd skipped the trip to Washington DC to see them play because of an important work meeting. Rising stars in the company didn't miss these types of meetings. He was on the fast track and didn't want to do anything that would slow down that speed.
As he pulled into the driveway he noticed a couple of Amazon packages at the front door. After getting into the house, he got them and saw one of them addressed to Sarah and one to him. He didn't remember ordering anything and Sarah's was probably just another pair of shoes.
When Nathan opened the small package, a padded enveloped weighing next to nothing, and pulled out something pink and soft wrapped in translucent vellum, his heart stopped.
Nathan’s
hands trembled as he stared at the pink soft full cut panties in his palms—a delicate, pastel masterpiece of a panty with a big bold flower embroidered on the front panel. He'd heard of the "Carole" brand before, popular with some of the cd's and sissies he chatted with, but now he was seeing it in the flesh. The panty felt like a second skin.
It was terrifying enough to get a panty delivered to your home that you didn't order, but the note was
worse:
"I know you are going to look so cute in these. I want you wear them to work on Monday. See you then Nancy...xox"
The mention of
Monday and Nancy turned his rising career in finance into a ticking time bomb. Someone knew, or at best, assumed his work schedule. His sissy chat friends were the only ones who knew about his desired "femme." name. He didn't think it was a coincidence. Could someone have figured this out?
He
mentally sprinted through his office. Had he left a browser tab
open? No, he was meticulous. Had someone traced his IP from the forums?
He’d used a VPN, or at least he thought he had. Besides, he had rarely used any office computers or laptops to do any of his personal browsing, must less chats. All of that had been done on his phone or personal Macbook. Or so he thought...had he messed up somehow?
He thought of the
"admirers" he’d messaged; they were faceless icons, yet one of them now
had his home address and his professional schedule.
The
sound of his wife’s car in the driveway snapped him back to reality.
Heart hammering against his ribs, he shoved the lace and the note into
the back of his desk drawer, buried under a stack of tax returns.
When Samantha walked in, she found him standing in the kitchen, pale and
unmoving. "You okay?" she asked, dropping her keys. "You look like
you've seen a ghost."
"Just a long week," he managed to say, his mind already spiraling. Monday was forty-eight hours away. Was the sender a malicious harasser, or a colleague
playing a high-stakes game of cat and mouse? He realized with a jolt of
terror that by Monday morning, he wouldn't just be choosing a suit;
he’d be choosing whether to obey the note or wait for the floor to fall
out from under him.
"C'mon, the games about to start" Samantha said heading into the den to turn on the television.
To be continued.
Love,
sissy terrie 💗
I hope you enjoyed this little piece. I hope to continue the story soon....xox
