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The Clothing Option - Chapter 1

"How it all started."

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My name is Harvey and I manage a small firm that designs and sells computer software. I'm 34 years old and married to the love of my life, Marsha. I started this business almost ten years ago, but sold most of it to another company that designs and produces smartphone apps. I still own 49% of the company, but that just keeps me in dividends; they have the ultimate decision making authority. I probably could have done better with the sale, but I don't have near as much stress anymore. As the manager, I don't have to put in near as many hours that I did as the majority share holder and president, and the pay is good. Generally, I find they leave me alone to do my own thing here with my own people, anyway. Just as long as I keep the board of directors advised and happy. They really only seem to care about profit anyway.

So that's me, running a software company. It's pretty mundane at best, but about a year ago, the strangest thing happened.

It started out as a routine day. I was sitting in my office going over some of the previous month's numbers, when I heard some people out on the floor. I heard one woman sort of shriek and a few other people laughing. At first I thought that there was some kind of prank and thought little of it. But then I thought I had better investigate.

I walked out of my office and scanned the employees sitting at their desks in the bull pen. No one was working at their computers. Most of them were still sitting, but some were standing and hooting, and they all were looking towards the same person, Becky Lawrence, who was taking a bow in front of her co-workers, totally naked.

Now I am no prude, but I was, let's say, surprised. Becky is an intelligent girl, she is one of my newer employees, and I value her as one of my better workers. She works in software development and is responsible for some of the latest improvements in the product. She is the team leader responsible for the entire upgrade package of version 8.0 and a few subtle upgrades since then to our current version 8.3 of our flagship software package.

Becky is also cute, I do have to describe her as that. I don't lear at the staff, as I try very hard to ensure a positive work environment for everyone, but I am a guy and I do notice.

I would describe her as about five feet even, with C cup breasts. She's probably about 125 pounds which, I imagine, is a little more than she would prefer, but she always carries it well. Although there is no dress code at my office, she is usually a sharp dresser. She takes a lot of pride in her appearance.

Today though, let me say, her dirty blond hair cascaded around her shoulders and stopped above her beautiful breasts, her stomach was firm, and she had the most beautiful curve from her hips to her waist. Most interesting though, there were no tan lines.

Some of the guys and a couple of women were cheering her on, but the rest were just staring. One woman, though, was holding up Becky's blazer, encouraging her to put it on.

Just then Margaret Pearson came out of her office. Margaret is my assistant manager in charge of product development. As my longest employee I also count on her to maintain productivity for all the staff, not just production. I regard her as my Sergeant Major, and as such she is always on top of things, seldom having to bother me with some of the petty issues that tend to plague a staff of this size.

She immediately started clapping in a stern pay-attention-to-me manner. Then with equal sternness and only some raising of her voice, she began to tell everyone to get back to work. While she did this she walked quickly toward Becky.

Immediately everyone returned to work. Becky just stood there, motionless, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, or perhaps more like she was just caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I could see Margaret exchanging a few words with her, in what was not as one sided a conversation as I had expected.

I called for Margaret to bring Becky to my office.

Just as I sat back in my chair, Margaret and Becky were at my door. I waived them in but was surprised to see that Becky was still naked, Margaret now was holding Becky's jacket, trying to get her to put it on.

I asked them to please take a seat.

Becky promptly did, ignoring Margaret's badgering, and crossing her legs as she sat, which accentuated her neatly trimmed triangle that matched her hair colour perfectly.

Margaret, on the other hand, stood and continued to try to cover Becky up.

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I told her to take a seat as well.

This is when I asked what was going on.

They both started to talk at once, but Margaret, in a more agitated state, was louder. The calmer Becky stopped taking.

Margaret went on saying, "You saw that, she was naked! She is naked! And the disturbance! She's keeping everyone from working..."

Margaret must have been upset. She is normally a very articulate woman and not one for short sentence fragments like that. I did get her point though, as she went on like this for nearly a minute. I finally raised my hand, having heard enough. I then asked Becky what was going on.

She stared angrily at Margaret, then asked me sharply, "What is the dress code here?"

"There isn't one," I replied. "That should have been explained that to you on your first day here."

"Exactly and it was," came Becky's confirmation that her question had been rhetorical. "There is no dress code. The purpose of this place is to design and sell computer software. All of our sales are on-line or through our sales reps. We don't have the public coming to our office for anything. I'm just more comfortable like this. I hate wearing clothes, and figure I can be more productive if I'm not bound by the restrictions of textile."

Just then Margaret interjected, just as I was starting to speak, "We can't have you going around looking like some kind of trollop and interfering with everyone else's work."

I again, just put my hand up, then started to speak.

"I have to partially agree with both of you on this one. You are right, Becky, there is no dress code and ultimately, what I want is for you to be the most comfortable you can be so you can get the most done in the least time. I'm always pleased with your work ethic and if there is anything you can do to make it even better, I'm going to agree to it, except where it interferes with the productivity of your co-workers."

Becky was firm, "Look," she said, "I know that scene out there was pretty disruptive and my bow probably didn't help, but I was just trying to let them see that I wasn't scared. I tell you, once they see this as normal, they won't be bothered by it. I'm a nudist and have been my whole life. It's not about sex and I'm not a trollop." She added this last piece while turning and glaring at Margaret for the inappropriate comment made at her a minute before.

"I still have my reservations," I said. "What about the law, isn't it illegal to be naked in public?"

"Nudity on its own is not so much an offence, not when no one is offended, not if there is no disturbance," she explained.

"It sure looked like a disturbance to me," commented Margaret.

To which Becky replied, "Well, this isn't exactly a public place now is it?"

"I guess that would be for the police to decide, if they were here," I said, "but they're not, nor is anyone calling them, so that point is really moot." I continued, "It looks like you have done your homework on this except for one part, you didn't notify me first."

"Would you have said yes, if I had asked you?" asked Becky.

"I don't know what my answer would've been, but at least I would be a little more prepared for this conversation. Look, I can't have you disrupting other people's work, however good your intentions might have been. I'm saying no to your proposal and directing you to get dressed and go back to work. Alternatively, you may go home for the day, if you would rather. But that will be without pay and there will be a permanent mark on your employment record."

Becky, looked and sounded dejected as she took her blazer from Margaret and said, "I'll get dressed and get back to work..." She didn't seem to have finished her thought as she closed the door behind her.

As she left I heard a muted cheer from the crowd outside.

As the door closed behind Becky, Margaret said, "I'll watch her and find something to get rid of her on."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," I scolded. "She's an excellent worker. She's young and made a bad judgement call, but I don't want to punish her for that. It's refreshing to see someone willing to go out on a limb and try something new. We need more people like her, not less."

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Written by LeBaron1987
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