Daisy tries to sneak out without being seen

When she figured out that she was alone in an office building full of cameras with nothing on but some bodysuit lingerie, Daisy started to think up a plan. Now she was thankful for all of Mr. Johnson's ass slaps in front of the security monitors. Well, more thankful. She was less thankful that he'd made her stay until after the cleaners had gone through the bathrooms.

And who the fuck had cleaned this place, anyway? She didn't know the names of any of the cleaners, but she knew a few of their faces. Did any of those faces belong to a sicko who liked to steal women's clothing? There was the possibility that one of the lady cleaners had taken it to wear for themselves, but it didn't seem likely. Not with Daisy's luck.

The nearest camera to the bathroom was hanging over Gary's desk. That wasn't a coincidence; Gary stole. That was good for Daisy, because it meant it was aimed down to see him working, not out to see the idiot who had left her clothes unattended in a public bathroom for more than an hour. Daisy's crawled along the cubicles on her literal hands and knees. Up to the first camera, it was the same route she took to get to Mr. Johnson's office nearly in the buff that afternoon.

From here on out, it was tricky. The next camera was near her own desk. Not because they didn't trust her (though she wasn't trustworthy) she just sat next to all the other young staff. She needed her car keys. It was probably a crime to drive in a skintight silk bodysuit, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. For this part, she needed to literally lie on the ground and inch her way between cubicles. Wedgie city. Even then there'd be a few seconds where she was showing up far from the cameras, if the security guard was eagle eyed during the next morning's tape review.

Daisy slipped her hand over the top of her desk and felt around for the latch of her drawer. She wondered briefly if it would be better to curl up under her desk and wait until morning there. Mr. Johnson had enough of her clothes stashed away, he could probably come in early and bring some. She would spend the day looking like a slut, but that was nothing new. But no. It was Thursday, and she was supposed to work from home Fridays – when Mr. Johnson didn't come for a visit. She wasn't going to miss her only chance to sleep in a little this week.

That meant she would have to brave the stairs, and that would be the hardest part of all.