You strip

They look at you expectantly as you make your way to your desk. Having four additional people in your office this morning was really not a part of your plan. Two of them have no clue what is going on; it is bad enough humiliating yourself in front of people who expect you to, but to them (including a younger girl) you will have to explain the whole thing and the reasons behind it. You have a more practical concern too. Twenty-four strap strokes sound scary enough (sure, you want it, but it is still scary!). How you will be getting thirty-six as no mention was made of you being allowed to ask for fewer spanks from each subordinate just because their number went up by 50%.

At your desk you turn to face the now larger group. "As most of you know...", you begin "... after a number of issues with female management, the company has had to adopt a fairly... Um... Radical policy. From today, female managers, executives and specialists will work in the nude and be subject to corporal punishments, spanking being the primary one. Some other measures on ensuring the said higher-placed employees' humility are also in place".

The newcomers' faces are just as stunned as you expected them to be, but neither protests. However, some shock registers even among those who knew what you were going to say. You suppose reading an email is one thing, but hearing your boss say directly and out-loud that she is about to strip and get spanked is quite another. "The files on the full policy including guidelines on punishments are available in the firm intranet. You will be able to access these once you are logged on...", you nod to the two new arrivals addressing the last comment to them, "... and most of you obviously would have seen the email and its attachments by now". You take a breath and then ask (mostly because it would have been too awkward to start stripping straight away - not that it will ever be not awkward): "Does anyone have any questions?"

Zarine raises her hand as a schoolgirl would. Obviously she was one not all that long ago. "Sorry, Ms Cho, just to confirm", she says. "Only senior female employees are subject to... to all these? Wouldn't the junior ones usually expect to be punished?" You reassure her that the policy targets only a very specific aspect of workplace discipline - that of the arrogance of the higher-ups and she has nothing at all to worry about. Normally you would not be too comfortable making that promise; with the Rulebook, however, you can direct any further developments so that they stay focused on yourself... And well, people more likely to deserve it.

"Anyone else?", you ask with the girl now looking more reassured. "Very well", you say after a pause. Even if there are questions, everyone clearly wants you to proceed to the fun part. For them, at least. You may have wanted it and made it happen, but quite how much fun you are going to have is a somewhat different issue. With nothing else to do you shrug off the jacket and hang it up on the hanger. Then you take off your company ID hanging around your neck. Immediately you are faced with a choice: removing your blouse to expose your bra or your pants to expose your panties. You decide to go with the former and begin to undo the buttons. Far too soon the garment is open giving a peak at your bra already and it follows the jacket. Your modest breasts are still covered by the white lacy piece, but the tension in the silent office goes up visibly. Your blouse has been seen before; your bra... Not beyond half-peaks by accident through an open button for obvious reasons.

Still, the level is only going up from here. You step out of your heels (much higher than your usual ones for no reason that you can rationally explain) and undo your thin belt and then the pants themselves. You slide them down to your shins in one motion and then a bit less gracefully step out of them, giving everyone a look at all the different angles of your panties in the process, not that it will make a massive difference with what is about to happen next.

It takes your fingers a moment to unhook your bra, but then your breasts are freed with a small wobble as you feel the hotness of shame on your cheeks intensify tenfold. In your mind you cross some unseen Rubicon; even in your underwear you have retained some degree of belonging in the "normal" world as you knew it. This was a step too far by any conventional understanding. Except, of course, this is exactly what now was expected of you. And your panties were about to follow.

This last piece you take off sharply, almost tearing the delicate lacy item matching with the already discarded bra that you chose for today. You step out of them, feeling out of breath and blushing even more furiously, but you make yourself hang the panties up onto the hanger, where they resemble the white flag of surrender of your dignity. Fully nude now you face your coworkers and subordinates. You try to speak, but feel that words are not going to come out properly if at all and take a few deep breath instead. Then you try again.