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This was my fourth week in the job and I still couldn’t believe my luck. The ideal gap year role for a law student, at one of the most prestigious firms at one of the oldest inns of court. More than that I was working for the only all female team in the country. Top lawyers at the peak of their careers and I was getting an insight into their world. Working among all females was interesting after going to an all boys’ school. But best of all was the money. It paid three times more than all the other jobs I’d been interviewed for. They told me they had high expectations and that they had every confidence I was the right man for the job.
Now, after four weeks of standard clerical work, where I’d learnt the ropes and established a rapport with everyone at the office, I’d been called in to see Mrs Beckwith. And here I was, sitting in her office, wearing my smart work suit and with my shoes all polished, wondering why I’d been called in. Had I done something wrong?
“Now, Mark, I expect you’re wondering why I called you in here.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Don’t worry, we’re very pleased with your progress. Everyone seems to like you and being tall, dark and handsome doesn’t go amiss.”
I blushed.
“You said in your interview that you enjoy athletics, is that right?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Indeed. It was one of the reasons we were so keen for you to join us. Stand up.”
“Ma’am?” I did as I was told.
“Now, turn around. Give me the full 360.”
“Ma’am.” Again I did as I was told.
“Hmmm. Difficult to tell through the jacket.”
I stood facing her as she spoke into her intercom. “Jacky, would you just come in for a moment.” Then she mouthed to me, “Chaperone.”
Jacky came in and Mrs Beckwith nodded for her to take my vacated chair.
“Now, Mark, please remove your jacket. You can hang it on the coat stand by the door.”
I did as I was told and returned to the centre of the room, standing between the two seated women. Jacky was Mrs Beckwith’s PA. Early twenties with blonde hair cut in the pageboy style that was so fashionable then. Very attractive, and only a couple of years older than me. I’d wondered about her.
“The reason for this meeting,” Mrs Beckwith was looking me straight in the eye. “The reason for this meeting is to assess your suitability for a very particular project which is close to my heart, and the heart of everyone in the office.”
“Ma’am?”
“Remove your tie.”
I did as I was told and hung it up with my jacket.
“Every year, the legal profession likes to let its hair down. The boys are very good at this. But this is 1976 and it’s time for the girls to have some fun. Do you understand me, Mark?”
“Ma’am, I think so.”
“You’re going to have to remove your shirt, I’m afraid.”
“Ma’am?” This was getting weird.
“We are looking for a natural athlete. Someone who can hold their own in both track and field events. Is that you, Mark?”
“I don’t know, Ma’am.” I stammered. Though I was liking where this was going. Track and field were definitely my sporting strong points. Hopeless with ball games but I loved to run. Thick black hair, dark eyes, six foot, slim waistline, I felt reasonably athletic.
“Well, we’re about to find out. Take off your shirt.”
I did as I was told, unbuttoning my white cotton shirt (no coloured shirts allowed in those days) from the collar down. But I was no longer quite so sure I was liking where this was going. My chest was quite hairy and I felt self-conscious about in the pool or changing rooms. Now, eskişehir escort here I was taking my shirt off in my boss’s office. But what could I do? I tugged off one sleeve, then the other and hung it up over the jacket.
“Step back where we can see you.”
I stood between the two women. Jacky could see my back, Mrs Beckwith my front.
“Another 360 if you please.”
I did as I was told, of course.
“Slower. There’s no rush.”
I felt very on display. But finally I had turned full circle and was facing Mrs Beckwith as she sat behind her big desk.
“What do you think, Jacky?”
Jacky replied nervously, trying to sound confident. “Promising, Ma’am. Very promising, I’d say. Not that I’m a huge expert.” There was a pause, then she stammered, “At athletics that is.”
I could feel Jacky reddening behind me. And I was reddening at the same time.
“Very good Mark. Now show us your biceps, if you please.”
I giggled with shyness and, if I’m honest, false modesty. If there’s one part of me I work on in the gym it’s my arms.
Raising my arms to my sides I showed off my best feature. And this time I did the three sixty unprompted. I was feeling quite good about myself again, though nothing prepared me for what came next.
“And now your shoes and socks, trousers and underpants please young man.”
I heard Jacky make a small squeak behind me. I heard my heart beating. And everything else was silent. I didn’t know what to do. Or say. So I just, sort of, froze.
“Well, track star?” Mrs Beckwith leaned back in her chair and took off her glasses with an air of impatience.
My mouth went to ask why. But was I allowed to do that. I’d never questioned any of the instructions she’d given me before. Or any of the others had given me. I prided myself on doing a good job for them. After all they were paying me great money and helping my career too. Saying no just wasn’t an option.
So I took off my shoes and tucked my socks into them and brushed past Jacky as I took them to sit under my jacket beneath the coat stand. I feel like an actor returning to his mark. I face the front, unzip, unclip and push down my trousers till they are around my ankles. I’m so pleased I’ve avoided a hard on. The bulge in my Y-fronts would be just unbearably embarrassing. I bend and pull the trousers off from around my ankles, walk past Jacky and place them with my shoes. And then take my place between the two women once again, gazing at the floor in front of me.
“You seem to have forgotten something.”
She didn’t expect me to remove my underpants surely? One look up at Mrs Beckwith made it clear she certainly did.
Fingers into the waistband and I pushed my Y-fronts down to my ankles. Did she want me to take them off? Surely just a quick inspection and I could pull them up again?
I felt her eyes on my cock and I put all my concentration into not being turned on. Think of lobsters, shoe racks, typing ribbon. Anything but my feeling of subservient vulnerability.
“Hang them up, please Mark.”
I was going to have to turn round. And that meant Jacky too would see me full frontal. Have them both see my naked movements as I moved across the office. But there was nothing for it. I had to do as I was told and, as I stepped out of my Y-fronts I could feel my cock hardening by the second. By the time I turned to face Jacky, underwear in hand, the tip of my penis was pointing forcefully at her.
She let out a breath. I don’t know whether it was mocking, but gaziantep escort I was just grateful she didn’t laugh. She did, however take in my nakedness. I could see it in her beautiful blue eyes which ran me up and down, once, twice, three times.
I walked over and hooked the underpants on the same peg as my trousers, so pale and small against the dark cotton of my suit. Then I instinctively resumed my position. My erect cock pointing towards Mrs Beckwith, my bottom cheeks facing Jacky, my hands hanging limply by my sides, the arm muscles now as flaccid as my penis was hard.
“Bring in the partners, Jacky.”
What? I was going to be displayed to the other senior lawyers in the business? I opened my mouth but one look from Mrs Beckwith made it clear I would have been foolish to object. Jacky stood up and left the room while I stood right where I was.
A few moments passed. Mrs Beckwith got down to some paperwork while I stood stock still in front of her. I could hear the ticking of the clock, the footsteps of someone from the floor above. There were footsteps on the gravel outside. Mercifully, standing here, nobody would see me through the window. My erection, in the quiet, slowly subsided.
Then the partners came in one after another and walked straight up to me. Then around me. Behind me, to the side. They said nothing but exchanged occasional looks with Mrs Beckwith and each other. A nod, a little inclination of the head, a smile.
I stood stock still. Mrs James came and stood straight in front, looked me in the face. I continued to stand still but I could feel my cock about to stare again. She squatted down, till her eye line was directly in front of my penis.
“Lift your cock for me, please, Mark.” She gently commanded. “Let me see your balls.”
I did as I was told. My half tumescent cock lifted up to graze my belly.
“You’ve done well, Janet.” Mrs James stood again and turned to Mrs Beckwith.
“Good physique. I like the arms. The belly is fine. Just a hint of a six pack.”
“Yes, very nice.” This was Miss Frobisher. “The hairy chest I like very much. Nice abs. Shame about the cock though.”
“Yes the cock could be bigger,” agreed Mrs James. There was a murmur of agreement. “But the balls hang nicely. I like his balls.”
Again there was a murmur of agreement.
“Oh look, he likes being talked about.” Miss Frobisher nodded towards my cock, which had now grown back to full erection.
I put my hands back down to my side and left my cock point where it would.
“Do I have a unanimous decision?” Mrs Beckwith asked.
There was a quiet ripple of approval.
“Then I shall ask the rest of the office to approve. We all need to be behind this, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Yes, indeed.”
The partners filed out. Mrs Beckwith and I were left, along with my embarrassment.
“You’d better stand up on the bench, Mark. The one by the window. So that everyone can see.”
Until this point, I had been so stunned with everything that unfolded that I hadn’t really thought about my predicament. Being nude was embarrassing but Mrs Beckwith and the partners were my bosses. I felt they had a right to ask me such things. I was only nineteen and didn’t know the world. But even at nineteen the idea that everyone was going to come in, made me blush to the core. The office juniors and secretaries, girls little older than me. Surely they weren’t going to see my naked from top to toe? And stand by the window? giresun escort We might be on the first floor but people could see in.
But of course I did as I was told. I stepped up onto the bench and stood facing the window, my cock pointing out towards the quadrangle and my butt facing the door.
“Hands on your head, if you please.”
I did as I was told and, at that same second, the door opened.
I could feel the room filling up behind me. I could hear the breathlessness of the assembled crowd. The occasional intake of breath, a couple of nervous giggles. At least I couldn’t see them as they appraised my naked shoulders, legs and bottom. Outside nobody was about and I felt the relief that my erection remained a secret to everyone but Mrs Beckwith.
“Turn please, Mark.”
Inwardly I groaned but, yet again, I couldn’t refuse. I turned and faced a sea of female faces, looking up at the underside of my twitching cock. There was nowhere to hide. And there was no point in pretending I wasn’t aroused.
This time there was a loud gasp. I looked down at Jacky in the front, her blue eyes gazing up. And there were Helen, Daphne, Claire and everyone, their beautiful young feminine faces all staring at my naked genitals.
“Have you all brought your voting cards?” Mrs Beckwith asked.
There was a chorus of “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then cast your vote now. At Mark’s left foot for yes, his right foot for no. That’s his left and his right, understood.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
One after another, the girls left their cards by my left foot.
“Remember, we only need one abstention or no vote to veto everything. This is an important decision for the company, ladies.”
“Yes, ma’am.” “Of course, ma’am.”
At the end of the voting process there were no vetoes and no abstentions. Whatever test it was, I had clearly passed. As the result was announced, there was a round of applause. I nodded with a sheepish grin. My hands still on my head.
When everyone had left and I was given permission to get dressed, Mrs Beckwith called in Miss Frobisher again. We were both invited to sit down. I was now in the chair Jacky had sat in when she had seen me naked. Mrs Beckwith faced me, her chin balanced on her hands, and looked into my eyes.
“Our ancient profession, as you know Mark, goes back to 1215. It has many traditions of which, perhaps the most prestigious, is the Summer Games.”
“The summer games is inspired by the ancient games of Greece and recreate them as authentically as possible.”
“They take place every summer. They are male only. The winners step up to a podium and are awarded with a laurel wreath.”
“And, of course, the competitors are entirely naked.”
“The games have launched many high profile careers of course. Lord L. was, for example, a laurel winner.”
“So was Lord D and Judge Y.”
“The winning law firm has great prestige for the whole year and can expect excellent financial benefits from top clients in the city.”
“But our company, being women only, has never been allowed to take part.”
“Because only men are allowed to take part.”
“And you, Mark, are a man. A young man but, as we’ve just seen, clearly a man.”
“If you take on this challenge you are guaranteed a first at Oxford.”
“A partnership well before your thirtieth birthday.”
“And who knows, maybe a seat in the House of Lords in good time.”
“You have made a good impression on everyone here since you arrived.”
“And nothing that has happened today has elevated it still further.”
“Though ideally your penis would be just a little bigger.”
“We are looking for you to make us proud, young man.”
“And ideally win a medal.”
“We’ll ensure you get the very finest training.”
“Starting tomorrow.”
“Are you with us Mark?”
“Of course you are.”
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