Baring all in front of my manager (Part 2 04/09)
Posted: Sun Sep 03, 2023 10:40 pm
PART 1
“See you next week, Alice! Enjoy your weekend!”
And with that, my manager had dismissed the last of the workers…except for me, that is. It had been a busy day at the leisure centre, but somehow we’d all made it through to the end of the shift. All the changing rooms had been cleaned, the tills cashed up and everything was more or less taken care of. Despite being 19 and attending uni with a part time job at this leisure centre, I still hadn’t gotten around to taking my driving test, and so had to rely on the kindness of my coworkers for lifts home after shifts where the buses had stopped running before I finished work. Being Friday night, everybody else had plans and were eager to get away, so my taxi this time was my manager, Mathilda.
Unlike the rest of us working at the centre, who were either teenagers with not enough experience for better jobs yet, or seniors who had officially retired but found the need to fill their time somehow, Mathilda seemed too good for this place. She was a gorgeous woman, surely somewhere in her mid-thirties, with a face that was defined without being hard - high than average cheekbones, a chin that was only just pointy enough to stick out a bit and a small, sharp nose, framed by wavy golden locks and dark blue eyes. Of course, what was below the neck filled the eyes of a many a man passing through the leisure centre, employees and customers alike.
Mathilda was slim, clearly one for cardio and, while her tits weren’t notably big or small, her pear shaped ass atop shapely thighs and skinny calves frequently caught glances from anyone who thought they could get away with it. One time, I was even lucky enough to steal an eyeful as she was crouched down, trying to find something under a desk, and discovered a tramp stamp (depicting an intricate rose with a throned stem curling out at either side) and a lacy thong (a dark, velvety green) for my troubles.
But the cherry on top was her odd little quirk of speech. For whatever reason, Mathilda was fond of employing the pet name “duck”, most often to those of us at the bottom of the workplace ladder. I’m still not sure exactly why it gave me a warm tightness in my chest whenever she used it on me - maybe it made me feel comforted or like a child again; maybe it exposed a bumpkin-like quality behind her classy outward appearance or an old-fashioned demeanour at odds with her radiant body. Either way, it worked a treat on me every time. That woman had me wrapped around her finger and never had any trouble getting me to do something. Time and again, I had fantasised of scenarios where she threw herself upon me, craving attention from a younger guy. Of course, even I realised she was far too classy and good looking for that to ever happen. She almost certainly already had someone in her life, probably happily married and everything. Still, a guy can dream.
So there we were, having waved off everybody else and making the final checks of the building before leaving ourselves. As we walked, I followed behind Mathilda, hoping to drink in as much of her as I could, watching her rear end jiggle as she paced ahead of me. We talked a bit, too. She asked me how uni was going, if I’d found a nice girl (“or boy!”) - I asked her about her plans for the weekend, what days she’d be working next week, just small talk.
Finally, we came to the pool, always the last thing to be closed up at the end of the night. As I tidied up some stray floats, Mathilda circled the pool, making sure nothing was amiss. All of a sudden, she stopped, eyes fixed on a point on the pool floor. “Could you just pop over here a minute, please, duck?” Music to my ears.
Scurrying over, I followed Mathilda’s gaze and saw the problem. The pool vacuum was still in the water, scrubbing away at the floor tiles. “We’re gonna need to get that out.” She said. “It only takes the one time for it to short circuit while nobody’s here and then the whole pool becomes a health and safety nightmare. I know it’s a pain, but would you mind throwing your swim kit on and getting in for it quickly?”
“Well how could I ever say no to a lady in need?” I replied. Mathilda chuckled and scrunched her nose as she did so. Evidently she thought I was being a bit of an unserious charmer. Oh, if she knew about the thoughts racing through my head…thoughts of a rose tramp stamp and dark green thong.
But no sooner than I had turned to leave did I stop and turn back, forgetting one vital detail. “Sorry, Mathilda, I just remembered - I wasn’t on the rota for lifeguarding today so I didn’t bring any pool kit in with me.”
“Ah…”
The silence hung for a few seconds, seemingly as a kind of formality. Mathilda appeared to be thinking. I supposed I’d better do some thinking too, try and come up with a solution. “Don’t suppose you brought any kit with you?” I asked a bit sheepishly.
Mathilda gave more of a sarcastic chuckle this time “Nice try, duck - I’ve not done pool duties in years. We do really need to get this thing out though…”
“Then what about if I borrow some shorts off the shop rack?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but you know I can’t let you do that. We can’t exactly sell them to anyone once they’ve been worn, and the shop racks are all locked up now anyway.”
More silence. More awkward this time.
“Tell you what: I’ll go and see if there’s anything that needs doing on the office, and you can do what you need to in order to get that vacuum out of the pool.”
Hardly a suggestion that needed clarification, but I had to express my disbelief at the request, if nothing else. “Sorry, what?” I stared blankly at Mathilda, as if she’d just been beamed down from another planet.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but we can’t take any risks with this. I’ll nip out now and you can get it over with.”
I didn’t have the stones to ask Mathilda why it had to be me. That she pitched me doing this in the first place was as good an indicator as any that she had absolutely no intentions of getting her own kit off to do the job herself, especially not in front of a boy and subordinate. Surely if our genders were reversed, this’d be a juicy HR complaint right? Still, I didn’t want to disappoint, so I darted into the poolside accessible changing room and stripped off before quickly shuffling out and jumping into the pool (not too quickly though - always remember that running on poolside is a big no-no).
A moment later, I hauled the vacuum out of the water and onto the raised pool side, before lugging my own naked body out (only after a surreptitious check to make sure Mathilda hadn’t returned to catch this event). As I made my way back over to the changing room, I froze in horror. The door had shut! You’d think this wouldn’t be a problem, but the leisure centre I worked at was actually pretty modern. A lot of the doors could only be unlock with staff or member keycards, and this was one of them. I was locked out on poolside, naked as the day I was born, and Mathilda would be coming back any minute to lock up!
The next few moments were a frantic blur. First, I scurried down to the other end of the pool (still no running) to check the staff entrance - a bit, glass fire door. If I’d seen Mathilda coming, perhaps I would’ve been able to explain the situation to her and she’d have been able to let me into the changing room from the other side. Alas, she hadn’t returned yet, so I shuffled back up to the changing room door (hands cupped over my crown jewels the whole time) to see if I could just…force the door open, I guess. And I did give it an honest effort, even uncovering the unmentionables in order to devote my full strength to this task. Unfortunately, I’m a pretty skinny guy and my full strength was entirely unremarkable. Even if I’d managed it, I’d probably have set off an alarm or caused some property damage, but at least I’d have been clothed while getting told off.
With this plan failed, I darted back down the other end of the pool to check the staff door again, but just as I was getting to it, who else should enter but a certain blonde, MILFy manager? She didn’t really see me at first, given she walked through the door in a direction perpendicular to the one at which I was approaching it, but it wasn’t like this was remotely enough time to hide anywhere, or warn her not to look. And so the inevitable happened. As she noticed my presence, Mathilda jumped in surprise, her eyes meeting mine first but, all too quickly, she did an instinctive glance over my body, her eyes widening and her hand clapping over her jaw as she realised that in front of her, I stood terrified, like a rabbit in headlights, my last shred of dignity maintained only by my two shaky hands clapped over my crotch.
“See you next week, Alice! Enjoy your weekend!”
And with that, my manager had dismissed the last of the workers…except for me, that is. It had been a busy day at the leisure centre, but somehow we’d all made it through to the end of the shift. All the changing rooms had been cleaned, the tills cashed up and everything was more or less taken care of. Despite being 19 and attending uni with a part time job at this leisure centre, I still hadn’t gotten around to taking my driving test, and so had to rely on the kindness of my coworkers for lifts home after shifts where the buses had stopped running before I finished work. Being Friday night, everybody else had plans and were eager to get away, so my taxi this time was my manager, Mathilda.
Unlike the rest of us working at the centre, who were either teenagers with not enough experience for better jobs yet, or seniors who had officially retired but found the need to fill their time somehow, Mathilda seemed too good for this place. She was a gorgeous woman, surely somewhere in her mid-thirties, with a face that was defined without being hard - high than average cheekbones, a chin that was only just pointy enough to stick out a bit and a small, sharp nose, framed by wavy golden locks and dark blue eyes. Of course, what was below the neck filled the eyes of a many a man passing through the leisure centre, employees and customers alike.
Mathilda was slim, clearly one for cardio and, while her tits weren’t notably big or small, her pear shaped ass atop shapely thighs and skinny calves frequently caught glances from anyone who thought they could get away with it. One time, I was even lucky enough to steal an eyeful as she was crouched down, trying to find something under a desk, and discovered a tramp stamp (depicting an intricate rose with a throned stem curling out at either side) and a lacy thong (a dark, velvety green) for my troubles.
But the cherry on top was her odd little quirk of speech. For whatever reason, Mathilda was fond of employing the pet name “duck”, most often to those of us at the bottom of the workplace ladder. I’m still not sure exactly why it gave me a warm tightness in my chest whenever she used it on me - maybe it made me feel comforted or like a child again; maybe it exposed a bumpkin-like quality behind her classy outward appearance or an old-fashioned demeanour at odds with her radiant body. Either way, it worked a treat on me every time. That woman had me wrapped around her finger and never had any trouble getting me to do something. Time and again, I had fantasised of scenarios where she threw herself upon me, craving attention from a younger guy. Of course, even I realised she was far too classy and good looking for that to ever happen. She almost certainly already had someone in her life, probably happily married and everything. Still, a guy can dream.
So there we were, having waved off everybody else and making the final checks of the building before leaving ourselves. As we walked, I followed behind Mathilda, hoping to drink in as much of her as I could, watching her rear end jiggle as she paced ahead of me. We talked a bit, too. She asked me how uni was going, if I’d found a nice girl (“or boy!”) - I asked her about her plans for the weekend, what days she’d be working next week, just small talk.
Finally, we came to the pool, always the last thing to be closed up at the end of the night. As I tidied up some stray floats, Mathilda circled the pool, making sure nothing was amiss. All of a sudden, she stopped, eyes fixed on a point on the pool floor. “Could you just pop over here a minute, please, duck?” Music to my ears.
Scurrying over, I followed Mathilda’s gaze and saw the problem. The pool vacuum was still in the water, scrubbing away at the floor tiles. “We’re gonna need to get that out.” She said. “It only takes the one time for it to short circuit while nobody’s here and then the whole pool becomes a health and safety nightmare. I know it’s a pain, but would you mind throwing your swim kit on and getting in for it quickly?”
“Well how could I ever say no to a lady in need?” I replied. Mathilda chuckled and scrunched her nose as she did so. Evidently she thought I was being a bit of an unserious charmer. Oh, if she knew about the thoughts racing through my head…thoughts of a rose tramp stamp and dark green thong.
But no sooner than I had turned to leave did I stop and turn back, forgetting one vital detail. “Sorry, Mathilda, I just remembered - I wasn’t on the rota for lifeguarding today so I didn’t bring any pool kit in with me.”
“Ah…”
The silence hung for a few seconds, seemingly as a kind of formality. Mathilda appeared to be thinking. I supposed I’d better do some thinking too, try and come up with a solution. “Don’t suppose you brought any kit with you?” I asked a bit sheepishly.
Mathilda gave more of a sarcastic chuckle this time “Nice try, duck - I’ve not done pool duties in years. We do really need to get this thing out though…”
“Then what about if I borrow some shorts off the shop rack?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but you know I can’t let you do that. We can’t exactly sell them to anyone once they’ve been worn, and the shop racks are all locked up now anyway.”
More silence. More awkward this time.
“Tell you what: I’ll go and see if there’s anything that needs doing on the office, and you can do what you need to in order to get that vacuum out of the pool.”
Hardly a suggestion that needed clarification, but I had to express my disbelief at the request, if nothing else. “Sorry, what?” I stared blankly at Mathilda, as if she’d just been beamed down from another planet.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but we can’t take any risks with this. I’ll nip out now and you can get it over with.”
I didn’t have the stones to ask Mathilda why it had to be me. That she pitched me doing this in the first place was as good an indicator as any that she had absolutely no intentions of getting her own kit off to do the job herself, especially not in front of a boy and subordinate. Surely if our genders were reversed, this’d be a juicy HR complaint right? Still, I didn’t want to disappoint, so I darted into the poolside accessible changing room and stripped off before quickly shuffling out and jumping into the pool (not too quickly though - always remember that running on poolside is a big no-no).
A moment later, I hauled the vacuum out of the water and onto the raised pool side, before lugging my own naked body out (only after a surreptitious check to make sure Mathilda hadn’t returned to catch this event). As I made my way back over to the changing room, I froze in horror. The door had shut! You’d think this wouldn’t be a problem, but the leisure centre I worked at was actually pretty modern. A lot of the doors could only be unlock with staff or member keycards, and this was one of them. I was locked out on poolside, naked as the day I was born, and Mathilda would be coming back any minute to lock up!
The next few moments were a frantic blur. First, I scurried down to the other end of the pool (still no running) to check the staff entrance - a bit, glass fire door. If I’d seen Mathilda coming, perhaps I would’ve been able to explain the situation to her and she’d have been able to let me into the changing room from the other side. Alas, she hadn’t returned yet, so I shuffled back up to the changing room door (hands cupped over my crown jewels the whole time) to see if I could just…force the door open, I guess. And I did give it an honest effort, even uncovering the unmentionables in order to devote my full strength to this task. Unfortunately, I’m a pretty skinny guy and my full strength was entirely unremarkable. Even if I’d managed it, I’d probably have set off an alarm or caused some property damage, but at least I’d have been clothed while getting told off.
With this plan failed, I darted back down the other end of the pool to check the staff door again, but just as I was getting to it, who else should enter but a certain blonde, MILFy manager? She didn’t really see me at first, given she walked through the door in a direction perpendicular to the one at which I was approaching it, but it wasn’t like this was remotely enough time to hide anywhere, or warn her not to look. And so the inevitable happened. As she noticed my presence, Mathilda jumped in surprise, her eyes meeting mine first but, all too quickly, she did an instinctive glance over my body, her eyes widening and her hand clapping over her jaw as she realised that in front of her, I stood terrified, like a rabbit in headlights, my last shred of dignity maintained only by my two shaky hands clapped over my crotch.