Sticky notes from her desk, as many as she cares to use

"If you're such a capable business-woman, you must do a lot of note-taking, hm?" Mammon's voice whispers, with a strange curl playing at its ordinary baritone.

"Ha! Not so much," Margot responds, rolling her eyes with an unaware smile on her red lips. "I mean, you've been in the meetings, right? They're not really 'note-taking' meetings. Sounds like that's all thanks to you, buddy! High-five," she encourages her cape, holding up one hand as though she expects one of the cape's lapels to bend and jovially slip her some skin. "We're the dream team!"

"Quite amusing. An unfortunate answer for you, though. I was going to be generous and offer you the opportunity to use anything inside that desk of yours, Miss CEO, but it seems you owe your great wealth to your magnificent sense of thrift!"

"Use it for what? Getting the cape off?" the woman asks, taking another bite of her apple as she begins to rifle through the desk unconsciously. The whole thing's mostly for show. There's almost nothing inside, apart from a pile of unopened post-it-notes in boring office yellow and slightly-less-boring hot pink.

"No, no. As I said, we are going to... dress office casual today, shall we say. You're correct that your business suit and cape are entirely inappropriate for today's work."

"Or any day's! There's not really a 'Dress Like a Superhero Work Day' in our corporate culture," Margot chuckles.

"Yes, well. Here is the first part of my game: strip naked, apart from the cape, and I will generously allow you to use those little pieces of paper and adhesive to dress yourself however you'd like."

Margot's face flushes slightly and the apple drops from her hand, rolling onto the desk, as she hears her master's instructions. "You for real?"

"Oh, very much so. And I'm starting the clock... now! Time is money, as well you know."

The business-woman can hardly comprehend what she's being asked, but she suddenly recognizes the sense of urgency, as she smells the unfamiliar scent of something in the room beginning to burn. Since she thinks of Mammon as the cape itself, that garment is where her scared eyes travel first, only to see what she fears the most: the cape is beginning to burn to ashes, starting from the feet and working its way up at an alarming rate. "Oooh no. No no no no. What are you doing? We're the dream team! Right? Right buddy?!" she pleads, trying to stamp the cape's tail to put out the fire, only to realize that there's no fire to extinguish. The cape is burning as though it's a candle's wick, but there's no source of flame. "Okay, buddy, pal of mine, I'm--" she begins, taking in a deep breath of air and flipping her read hair over her shoulder, before exhaling loudly. "I'm ready to admit that you are mostly responsible in the success of The Modern Royalty Corporation. Like, 80% / 20% you and me." When the cape doesn't stop its path upward, she squirms and clasps her hands together. "Okay, like ninety-nine-point-endless-nine percent you!"

" I don't want your appreciation. You are my **** and I desire your obedience. We're playing my game now. Strip."

"Like, right here? In front of you?"

"Darling, stripping in front of me is going to be the least of your concerns today."

"Oh, God," Margot shudders, as she quickly unbuttons her blazer and lays it neatly onto the table, completely out flat to avoid wrinkles. Stepping out of her shoes comes next, leaving her stocking-feet on the bare carpet. Those are the last easy parts she has to get through, which hurts, but she is comforted in seeing that the cape has stopped vanishing. "I can keep my glasses, right? Earrings too? Those things are a real pain to get out-"

"You can keep those spectacles, along with the diamond earrings. I think they'll make an amusing addition to your new outfit."

Margot, slowly coming to terms with her situation, slowly untucks her sweater and then lifts it over her head, allowing her over-sized breasts to spill out, pale against a saucy black, lace bra. Her breasts have a rarely seen beauty mark on the upper right side, now exposed. The skirt comes next, unzipping down one side and pooling at her feet, leaving her in sheer panty-hose over a matching panty set. Without her clothes on, the indentations of age are a bit more visible on her body, but anyone would call her knockout for one halfway to 40. The thought doesn't make her feel comfortable, but it does help, as she begins to slide the panty-hose down the curves of her legs. She steps out and places those on the desk as well. "And... That's it right? That plus the notes, I mean."

"Obviously not." The cape begins to burn immediately after the words leave Mammon's non-existent lips.

"Jesus Christ!" she gasps, beginning to pull her bra off as though its on fire itself. As the cape reassuringly ceases burning away, she deposits the lingerie upon the pile of clothing on her desk, hiding her large, pink nipples with one crossed arm. "Geez, Mammon, you're a huge perv, you know that?"

"I'm a demon lord! I'm a few worse things than a 'huge perv.' Keep going."

Margot bites her lip and hooks the fingers of her free hand into the lace strap of her black panties, stretching them away from her hips. She awkwardly slides it down that way until its halfway off her bottom, revealing a bit of her bush, which is a bit darker than the red up top, perhaps revealing a bit of her natural hair color. She alternates her slender fingers to the other side to slide it down more, then, after clearing the major curves, manages to sit down and free her legs from it. She now sits in the massive, leather chair of a CEO, completely naked apart from her glasses and the purple cape, which she pulls around herself like a cloak, wearing a sulky frown that makes her look half her age. "There. Happy?"

"You don't want the notes? You may find yourself needing them."

"What generosity!" Margot responds, tearing off a few of the yellow notes and placing them over her privates, then opening the cloak to give her perverted patron a good look. "Wow, this isn't embarrassing at all!" She'd intended to be facetious, but... sitting like this, exposing herself with three under-sized post-it notes covering her nipples and pussy, she feels remarkably ****. She notices for the first time that her breathing has quickened and that her taunting voice cracked just a bit.

"Ha ha, excellent. A few more, for good measure?"

The CEO grimaces, but she concedes to the wisdom. In the end, she uses nearly the whole of both packets, making the closest resemblance to a top and skirt as she can out of nothing but square post-it notes. The adhesive is pretty under-powered, and she sees a few shake free as she stands up to her feet; her jiggling bosom is knocking them free. With a red face, she tries to ignore the laughing of Mammon as she picks them up and reattaches them.

"No, no, wait! Before you put that one back on, I want you to write on it, with that fancy 10-year anniversary pen on your desk! Write: 'I'M A GOOD ****' with a little smiley face."

"Sheesh, buddy. You know, slavery ended a long time ago and any decent person was happy to see it go," she grumbles, but complies, fearing her cape's burning away. The flustered woman attaches it like a badge over her left breast, wanting that area to remain extra reinforced. "There! Game's over. Boy, that was fun. Now I think I should probably put my clothes back on so I can get ready for the 4:00 PM financial meeting-"

"Ah, if it makes you feel any better, it's not a lie. You are a fine ****, to this point. We shall simply have to see how you fare in the next leg of our game."

"Oh, Jesus, there's more?" Margot groans. "Look, I don't do much around here, I admit that now, but I can't play this game all day! What if someone comes in?" She places her fists on her hips with a reprimanding frown and sticks out her chest in an effort to look forceful, but with her note-paper bikini, gold-rimmed glasses, and cape, she only looks ridiculous instead. "Mammon, if you want our mutual prosperity to continue, you're going to have to let me do my job!"

"Your job is to serve me, ****, and that job has only just begun!" the demon growls. "As for this little office of yours..."