Clara, 36, Nova, Purple, Scissors

Clara’s eyes widened as she scanned her small office for any sign of cameras, any sign of her (soon to be former) colleagues waiting to pop out and admit this was a foolish mistake or a new prank a bunch of idiot kids inspired them to do with some stupid, fake internet video . She gently lifted one of her blonde bangs behind her ears as she waited, passively staring at the purple tablet in front of her slowly ticking down.

Thoughts bounced around in her head, what the fuck? Who would would send this to me? Why would they send this to me? Where are they?

Clara casually lowered her gaze down, watching the shallow rise and fall of her c-cup breasts under her tight, yet conservative, black suit jacket as it seamlessly transitioned to her long black skirt. Her pale skin contrasting the dark tones of her sleeves perfectly as her hands fidgeted nervously.

“I was just un-consensually recruited into some sick perverts public strip game, I could be stripped naked anywhere at anytime, at home, alone, at the store… at work.”

Her mind lingered there for an uncomfortable amount of time journeying through scenario after dirty scenario of her coworkers dragging their eyes across her supple naked flesh crudely illuminated by cheap, office fluorescent lights as she tried desperately to shield her modesty with her pale arms, failing miserably of course. All to suddenly was she pulled from her daydreams by her own wandering hand that had so recently left the comfort of her sister to cradle her breast and had taken it upon itself to snake its fingers around her erect nipple underneath her suit jacket, through the much thinner material of her blouse.

Retreating her hand to its proper place in her lap and taking a second to restore herself Clara focused on what could have caused someone to send… something like this to her. A nausea centered around her stomach as she recalled her frequent visits to the women's bathroom during her lunch break in the last months, visits she has made with less than pure intentions.

Clara’s common dark suit cut a sharp presence in the bland white surroundings of the office place around her, a presence she wished, just for this moment, she didn’t have. Narrowly dodging the attention of the constant busybodies and chatty-cathies that would have had her distracted till the end of break. She slipped into the women's restroom, walked into a stall, carefully closed and locked the flimsy door and stripped.

Placing her neatly folded clothes atop the toilet basin she sat down on the carefully maintained corporate clean seat, and slowly began to masturbate. Lightly tracing a finger across her slit to a slow rhythm while she casually messaged her left breast with her free hand. The gentle rise and fall of her suppressed breaths were easily drowned out by the soft, safe elevator music constantly played in the bathroom. Clara’s clumsy fingers slowly rise in tempo, kneading her sensitive nipple and sinking deep into her crevice, getting her closer and closer to orgasm as her eye’s take in the constant beige walls surrounding her, the usually boring setting only driving her further into need, the knowledge of doing this in such a public place only feeding her drive to cum.When the jarring squeak of the bathroom door echoed through the tiny room, Clara’s fingers dove as deep as she could reach into her pussy and grasped her naked nipple firmly pinching the sensitive bud, Clara knew she wasn't alone in this room anymore and that’s all the extra fuel she needed to finish.

As the door in the neighboring stall open and closed Clara covered her mouth and attempted to control her breathing, anything to prevent the possibility that someone might find out what she had been doing in this stall barely containing her gasps as she lazily traced a finger over her slit. The thought that someone was right beside her right now, as she was naked and still dirty from masturbating turned her on more than she was before.

She tried to stop herself, she kne this was dangerous, that it was dumb but she couldn’t get dressed now or clean herself up while someone was in the stall next to her, she told herself, casually plunging a finger back into her depths, squinting as she struggled to remain quiet through the pleasure. Clara’s mind drove her wild, more wild than her fingers had been before, the thought that a colleague could find her now, their supervisor, naked except for her black heels, finger fucking herself in the employee bathroom drove her to the edge and she couldn’t hold herself back any longer. She gasped.

The clock had ticked down to 1:00 and someone, somehow had to know about her occasional “relief” sessions in the bathroom it was the only reason someone would risk their job with something like this, they knew she couldn’t do anything (that she might not want to do anything) to stop it. she knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Clara picked up the tablet, casually glancing around her minimalist office again for anything of value, sadly she had limited options, spartan is just an artistic way of saying corporate here. She selected a pair of scissors she pulled out of a desk drawer. The timer crawling on drove Clara to have to think quickly, she wanted something no one else might pick, something new, So she choose new in latin. Just obscure enough so that not everyone would call themselves Nova, whilst also being not to uncommon knowledge.

She finished with just 0:12 remaining.