TNP 07 "The Tippy Top Rule"

TNP 07 "The Tippy Top Rule"

A Chapter by dw817
"

My time and life in working for the government during the Savings & Loan Crisis of 1990 with a beautiful woman who took care of absolutely everything for me in my employ. And I mean EVERYTHING.

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THE NANCY PRINCIPLE

My time in working for the government during the Savings & Loan Crisis of 1990 with a beautiful
woman who took care of absolutely everything for me in my employ. And I mean EVERYTHING.


© July 2013 Written by David Wicker
Please do not reprint without permission



CHAPTER 7 - THE TIPPY TOP RULE

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This chapter is Rated: TEEN

Arriving back home I saw I had a message on my answering machine. It was Dad and he wanted me to call him so we could do some shopping for clothes for my new job.

Now, it's important to mention, I never told Dad that my job there was going to be temporary. I didn't want to dash his hopes asunder, especially from all my other attempts of me holding onto a job in the past and failing miserably at it. I was glad - really glad - to have anything at all right now.

So I kept quiet and with high spirits, we got together and did some shopping for nice clothes in Montgomery Ward's.

I told Dad that what I was wearing at work was apparently not good enough and had to be tighter fitting. Dad laughed and said did they think I had a Dunlap problem ? I was perplexed at that. He explained, "You know, where your belt done laps over your belly ?" and then laughed.

Oboy. It was bad enough at work without Dad taking jibs at me as well. I shook my head frustrated and said that Nancy insisted my pants just not have creases in them. No creases at all. Oh, he said ? And then he reached a finger on the inside of my pants and tugged on them to compare something.

He then commented what I was wearing was Oxford and that she probably wanted something called Broadcloth which was hard to wrinkle because of it's unique design.

We went into a more expensive part of the store, where they had brand-name designer clothes and picked out something. I entered the changing room to try them out along with some tastefully done business shirts with cuffs.

The first thing I noticed is, the material was considerably thinner than regular dress pants I had, almost like a silk handkerchief. I held them up to the light and swear they were partially transparent as well.

I swallowed hard. However, I didn't want to be on the wrong side of my manager Nancy so I put them on and felt the material snug around me. I looked in the mirror. Sure enough, no wrinkles or creases, despite apparently hanging on that clothes rack for some time now.

I stepped out and Dad gave me a rewarding smile. I imagined myself to look like something out of James Bond so I clasped my hands together and posed with both index fingers extended in a mock pistol. I spoke in as deep a voice as my years would allow, "The name is Bond. James Bond."

"My aren't you dangerous ?" Dad smiled, glad I was finally employed. Then he looked at me. "This is fine. We're just going to buy one for now. They're pretty expensive and this =IS= coming out of your own account for now. Let's see how this works out first and if they like it we'll buy some more later."

I nodded and Dad put it on his charge card. I went home, dabbled a bit more on my Doomsday BBS, the one I wrote in QBasic 1.0, and then finally got to sleep with fitful dreams involving cartoon characters beating me over the head with rubber hammers because I wasn't doing my job right.

The next day I had a quick cup of coffee, fought traffic again and bee-lined straight to Nancy's office already noting the telltale yellow stickie on my screen. I almost ran.

"Yes ? Come." she said when I knocked. I entered.

Nancy then gave me a most disarming smile. She got up from her desk to look at me. She walked around me, looking for wrinkles in the fabric, and I hoped there weren't any. She tugged a bit on my belt, both front and back, hummed appreciatively as she watched the fabric snug to my waist.

She walked back around to face me. She spoke nodding, "David, these look good on you. Very professional. I'm impressed. This will do. See to it you are dressed this nicely every day you are working here."

As she faced me and spoke I noticed her eyes flicker down more than once at my waist. I didn't dare look down to what she was looking at but I knew my fly was buttoned, I check that every morning. For a moment I felt a dread of the horrid "Tippy Top" rule regarding my zipper but I would check it when I left.

She finally waved her hand away, "That is all David. We're going to have a busy day. Scoot." and before she could take a swat at me again, I was already out the door. I heard her laugh politely behind me knowing that's what I feared.

I stepped out of her office and looked down. No, my zipper was clearly at the top, the 'Tippy Top' I hoped. I did see unlike the other pants I wrote the other day that these did indeed snug tightly around me and - certainly she wasn't looking at that ?

I shrugged and started to walk back to my desk, but I still had plenty of time. As I did I noticed the women from the other cubicles greet me with smiles. They were definitely not just friendly but -hungry- looks with the same curious rapid flickering of their eyes going down quickly and then back up to my face. I felt a little sick now, like my belly was turning over queasily.

One women subtly licked her lips, her eyes trying to pierce my own. I hurried my steps in the awful black shoes I had, not really designed for running, to get past the invasive stares and back to my own cubicle safely.

I sat down and saw I still had a bit of time before 9am. Then I heard the whispering from the women. Nothing distinct but they were definitely going on about something. I felt my forehead sweat up and I tapped my fingers uncomfortably on the desk in front of my keyboard.

Finally there was the 9am horn sounding the start of the day and I flew into my work to disregard the earlier feelings of queasiness.

Now maybe it was because of these damned tight pants or something but my bladder felt full from the coffee I had earlier. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it to lunchtime so I got up to excuse myself, only to realize, I was supposed to see Nancy anytime I needed to use their facilities.

I bit my lip torn between indecision. I hated the stupid 'bathroom escort' thing they had here but I knew I would get in trouble if I didn't see her first. I sighed and went to see Nancy.

"Yes, David. What is it ?" she said a little uninterestedly going over some papers on her desk.

"I need to use the restroom please, miss Nancy ?" I said in as polite a voice as I could muster.

A paper fluffled on her desk for a moment like shot from a gust of air, but her tone maintained a direct evenness. "Do you now ? Just a moment then."

She then went to her computer and looked up something. I sat for about a minute and finally felt my legs tighten up and squeak in my seat. Nancy was ignoring me again ?

I coughed a little impatiently. Suddenly she froze up to look at me with an almost angry expression.

"Oh very well." she said as if I was giving her total heartache somehow and she tapped her intercom. "Get me Jeanette." When the woman answered, Nancy turned her chair around again so she could talk to her privately. The phone cord once again wound around the back of her tall black chair.

I bristled at the name. Wasn't that the same woman who I talked to on the phone for an opening interview to work here ? Suddenly the phone clicked dead, her conversation finished, and Nancy whirled her chair around then so fast that I swear she thought I was staring at her, trying to glean the conversation, but I wasn't.

I was looking down at my hands, uninterestedly.

Nancy hummed thoughtfully at this, and then attended more papers on her desk.

A minute later there was a knock on her door.

"Yes, enter." Nancy said crisply.

Jeanette stepped in and stood rigidly at attention, "Jeanette reporting for Bathroom Escort, as requested Miss Nancy !"

Nancy bit her bottom lip. I didn't know if she was trying to suppress a laugh or if she was instead impressed by Jeanette's professional demeanor. Nonetheless Nancy reached over to a blank clipboard and had a sheet nearby to put on it. Then she handed Jeanette the clipboard and a pen.

Apparently I was going to get graded again for my performance.

"Yes," Nancy said slowly watching that I was observing everything now. "That's fine. Run along, David. Scoot."

Jeanette clicked her feet together in an almost salute. She certainly was at attention. I was frozen in my seat. Finally Jeanette offered, "This way, David."

I got up, feeling as if I was somehow stuck to the seat by static electricity, likely due to the new material in my pants. As I stepped out of Nancy's office I then paused to see Jeanette lingering behind me. I had expected her to lead the way so I stepped aside to be a gentleman and follow after her.

"Is there a problem ?" she asked with a bit of irritation in her voice still staying a few feet behind me.

"Aren't you leading, Jeanette ?" I asked politely in reply.

"You know the way, don't you mister ? Go ahead now. Time is money !" she said and held her hand out again for me to lead the way.

I shrugged and started to go that way. I noticed as I walked that Jeanette followed behind me. And I mean that literally ! She was no more than a foot behind me following my every footstep.

I could smell her perfume and occasionally the hairs on my neck bristled as I felt her own hair against it, it felt like she was standing THAT close to me, almost mirroring my strides.

I winced uncomfortably but finally we arrived at the restroom in question. When I finally got to the restroom door, I stopped. Jeanette came so close to me, I felt her brush up from behind me before she suddenly stepped around.

She then turned to sit in the seat nearby. She held her clipboard ready. I realized that I would be asked questions of 'Company Policy' again but this time I was ready for the foolishness.

I went in and went to the farthest stall, once again a small distance since there were only 3, and unzipped my pants and didn't pee. I waited for her to interrupt me. But she didn't. It was quiet. Well, maybe this would be one time I could go in peace ?

I started to do so but then was interrupted by her shrill voice, "David ! What is the interim policy regarding two personages passing opposite directions in the same designated hallway ?"

D****t ! I was getting tired of this but I didn't want to lose this job, no matter the cost. I answered back and yelled in my best sincere voice as if her question were somehow vitally important, "To maintain at least 4-foot distance from each other to avoid unnecessary collisions, ma'am !"

Jeanette gave an appreciative whistle and then commented quietly, "Very good, David." and I heard her writing in her clipboard, apparently complimentary remarks, or so I hoped.

Well, chalk one down for David ! I thought to myself, and finished peeing with no more incident. I thought carefully. Tuck in my shirt. Check. Zip my zipper to the 'Tippy Top.' Okay, I did that. Check. Wash hands thoroughly, front and back, and between the fingers, plenty of soap and water. Check !

I stepped out and she was immediately upon me with a serious expression. I was certain I did a good job this time. She was all business and carefully walked around me clicking her tongue like she was deeply dissatisfied.

"Everything okay ?" I finally ventured.

She answered back at once, "Nossir. It is not okay. Tell me, what do you know of the 'Tippy Top' rule ?"

I sighed, "To have my zipper at the tippy top."

"Yessir." she said agreeably, but then asked angrily, "But is that where you have it right now ?"

I looked down. I really didn't think I could pull my zipper up any further without breaking it. "I think so."

"Nossir." she said contradicting me. "It's sloppy and I can see a wrinkle there. You go back in there and do it again."

"Now ?" I said. I was getting a little tired of this.

"Now !" she screeched in a new unpleasant tone I hadn't heard before. For a moment I thought I heard someone start to walk down the hall so rather than meet them I ran back in the bathroom then looked down at my zipper. It was zipped to the top. Or so I thought.

But maybe she wanted the little metallic copper flap down instead of up as it was now ? Was it that much of a difference ? I looked down. Currently the flap was up cause that's the way I had pulled it.

I aggravated in my thoughts I carefully lowered the flap down and tugged on the hinge making sure it was at the 'Tippy Top.' and then stepped out again.

If I thought she was cross before, she was livid now !

"Just what the HELL did you do mister !?" she asked accusingly without even looking to see where I placed my zipper.

"I did what you asked." I said, but now I was beginning to wonder what was wrong now.

"Nossir." she said denying me any chance of a victory here. "Maybe you don't understand. I'll tell you this carefully. Your zipper is dirty. After you tuck in your shirt you zip your zipper to the TIPPY TOP,"

(and her voice was shrill again), "then WASH your hands AGAIN. There are no exceptions. Now get back in there and do it the right way and STOP WASTING MY TIME !"

I looked at her incredulously. This was getting out of hand but I didn't dare disobey, not at this point. My head tremored just a little bit - was insanity finally settling in ? But I went back in, and did as she said.

I undid my zipper. Tucked my shirt-tail in. Zipped my zipper to the top again. And then washed my hands thoroughly. Then I stepped out.

I saw her busily writing on the clipboard. Quite a few red X's this time I noticed. I tried to look further but then she turned the clipboard over and sat it face down in the chair ending whatever curiosity I had about it.

"Let me see your hands." she said imperiously.

I showed her. She turned them over in her grip, rubbing her fingers all over them as if a small micron of dirt might fleck off, which of course it didn't. She then tapped my hands nicely twice, as if that was a signal to me of affirmation and said, "Your hands are washed correctly. Well done."

Then she started to walk around me. On her 3rd circuit she suddenly surprised me by patting me on my bottom twice which bristled all the way up my neck and then said in a complimentary tone, "Your shirt-tail is tucked in correctly. Well done."

Then she went to face my zipper. I knew I wasn't going to get this part right for her. I didn't know why I just did.

Her voice got very quiet and tight and her eyes looked like dangerous slits razor-thin knives could fit through. "No. With your permission sir, I will show you the CORRECT way to zip up your zipper as it is still unacceptable."

I really didn't want her fingers anywhere near me now as angry as she appeared, so I didn't say anything as I thought of some way to get out of this predicament. I made a sound - I don't think - it was altogether a word - more like a whimper.

Her tone got threatening with this and she added, "A sloppy zipper will be detrimental in my report for Nancy. You don't really want that, do you ?"

I shook my head. Apparently that was the green light for her so she then got down on her knees and sat in front of me.

"Stand up straight against the wall !" she demanded.

I straightened my back and flattened it against the wall giving it about a foot of distance and then put my hands at my side helplessly.

She added, "You had better pay attention to this and learn it the RIGHT way or I will definitely write you up !"

I nodded and gave her my full attention.




She then scooched closer and closer on her feet and legs until her knees were actually sitting on my toes, a little painfully I might add, and then slowly unzipped my zipper all the way down where my underwear showed and bulged out a little. I felt like I could die of embarrassment right now !

Then she stuck her face right up against it until her nose almost touched the fabric and stared at it for like a full minute breathing heavily with a terribly fierce expression on her face as if her face was going to explode with rage and anger from the mere sight of it.

It might've appeared funny to someone else but then her voice was shrill and serious like a drill sergeant, and it really frightened me, in truth.

She looked up at me and pointed accusingly at it with one finger like it was positively the last straw and said in a tight and angry voice, "This is incorrect sir ! Your zipper is clearly DOWN ! It is UN-ACCEPTABLE !"

Apparently her voice was so loud it attracted the attention of two women who decided to walk down the hallway we were in to determine what the commotion was.

As they approached one politely asked what on =Earth= Jeanette was doing with my zipper down obviously seeing my underwear up in her face as I was jambed up against the wall.

Jeanette turned her gaze and said in a polite but firm voice like she was trained in military, "I am operating under Nancy's strictest orders. I am his authorized bathroom escort for today and I am showing him the proper way to zip a ZIPPER to the TIPPY TOP !" and she emphasized the last words and her voice dripped with severity.

Both woman looked perplexed for a minute. Then one of them stepped up closer to me, to lean her head down tapping her chin in concerned thought with two fingers at the sight of my exposed underwear and nodded her head as if it were a very grave and serious sight indeed to see such an imposing thing in the hallway.

The other stood at a distance seemed afraid of me and my exposed underwear as if it were contaminated or something but nonetheless commented on the importance of the Tippy Top rule regarding all zippers in any article of clothing.

"What ?" the other woman said, apparently not hearing such a rule ?

"You know, the Tippy Top rule !" her friend said, a little angrily who continued to keep her distance.

And then she started reciting like from a rulebook the strangest and most bizarre law I had ever heard about zipping a zipper to to the top and then she went on about the importance of cleanliness and hygiene and how it improves productivity and by what percentage and in in what department and ALL the crazy details involved !

And as she babbled on about it, the other girl stood up suddenly, her face went blank, rather frightening really. Then she suddenly shook her head to the left and right as if she were shaking a live moth from one of her ears. I dearly hoped to see one flutter away at this point to explain the insanity, but one didn't appear.

And finally she straightened up, she seemed okay again and then she shocked me with a half-curtsey like I had seen in old TV shows and then one to my escort as Jeanette was still on her knees in front of me glaring at the offending underwear.

I smiled weakly at the other woman who recited the unbe-freaking-lievably complex rule. She then said down to Jeanette in a crisp voice, "Very well, carry on, ma'am."

And the pair continued walking down the hall talking to each other politely about reports they were working on and had no further comments about the Tippy Top rule of zippers, my bathroom escort, or hygiene for that matter.

After they vanished around a bend in the hallway, my escort continued her tutorial, "I am now going to show you the RIGHT way to zip up a zipper, mister."

She leaned forward and grunted with extreme effort and put her head against my chest pushing all her weight against me. I grabbed the wall behind me because she was shoving me so hard she threatened to topple me over !

She grabbed my zipper with one hand and held on tightly with her other hand and then pulled it up as hard and fast as she could as if it was something truly terrifying to her and had to be done as quick as humanly possible, catching me rather painfully on my crotch in the process !

As I gasped in pain on the zipper as it caught more than just my underwear, she clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"That is just terrible sir," as I floated my hand over my crotch, letting her clearly know that I didn't want her to EVER near there again.

Then she added, "Go back in the bathroom and fix that mess and come back out and we'll see if you can't do it the RIGHT way this time." as if the whole thing were somehow my own fault.

I did as she said and came back out. She tried the same thing a few more times, but if she didn't hurt me, by a miracle, and I had done everything in the correct order I was supposed to, then she continued.

With the zipper completely up she leaned her face up against it, once again almost touching it with her nose, and stared at it for a full minute.

But instead of being filled with rage when the zipper was down, she gave me this goofy smile like a zipper zipped to the tippy top was the most important thing on the planet and she was pleased as punch at the sight of it.

I was about to comment, "This is good then ?" but she interrupted me before I could say anything.


She continued her bizarre and seriously shrill voice again while pointing an accusatory finger at it, "This zipper has been zipped CORRECTLY, sir ! It has been zipped to the TIPPY TOP. It is ACCEPTABLE, sir !"

And then apparently not believing I understood the difference she unzipped my pants again taking a good long moment to stare at my exposed underwear with apoplectic rage once again like she couldn't be any more furious at the sight of an undone zipper and - whatever lay beyond.

Then she pointed at it again and shrilled, "This zipper is clearly DOWN. It is incorrect. It is UNACCEPTABLE, sir !"

She continued to stare at it, for a full minute mind you which really made you feel uncomfortable, before continuing to zip it back up again, as hard as she could, remember by leaning her full weight up against me and her head buried up against my chest.

And if I survived her instruction, then she smiled beatifically at the perfectly zipped up zipper. She did this a few more times.

Finally, she barked up at me, a little out of breath, "Do you understand or do I HAVE to show you again, sir !?"

I didn't know how she expected me to zip a zipper like that cause I couldn't lean against my own chest and do it the way she did but I certainly didn't want to detain her or my own self any further from this nonsense.

When she finally agreed that I understood fully, she patted me nicely twice on my crotch with the flat of her hand, all zipped up, to the TIPPY TOP I might add, to show it was correct, and spoke to me in a tone that indicated we had just done something immensely complex for the brain to comprehend.

"Good job, sir, I know this is difficult for you to understand. it'll get easier the more we do it."

I felt a really weird headache coming on, anticipating future days where this bizarre ritual would take place. Surely not.

And then she stood up suddenly tapping the flat of her hand fiercely under her bosom almost as if saluting me in the military and said, "I understand your name is David, sir. I hope in the future you will call on me as your chosen escort as I am very happy to assist you in you all of your bathroom duties during your employment, SIR !"

And then she handed me a business card that had only her name on it, "Jeanette." and nothing else. No title whatsoever.

She continued in the same serious tone, "Please check with Nancy if you have any questions regarding these arrangements, sir !" Then she stood up, spread her legs so they were a slight inverted V and tucked her hands behind her, all very serious.

I bit my lip trying my level best not to smile. She was rigid and at attention, perfectly dead serious in her statement. This appeared to be a very important position indeed for her and I hesitated to think what could be a lower position than a bathroom escort for an employee at a government workplace such as this one.

"Thank - you ... ?" I finally said as evenly and politely as I could.

"Yessir," she said in reply, finally clapping her hands back down at her waist, mechanically. "Now let's get you back to your cubicle, sir."

Then she went to report to Nancy regarding the results of my washing, my shirt-tail, my zippering ability, and my answers on company policy she asked me while I was in there doing my business.





END OF CHAPTER 7



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ron
They are a stickler for rules arent they. Its allmost unbalivable. But it does make for a good story. Sorry not laughing at you its just the story is....well lets see were it takes us shall we. Good stroy Im loving it.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

dw817

6 Years Ago

Thanks, Ron, and yes - they did seem to want to keep order. I'm going to take a break here in a bit,.. read more
OMG!
I'm ready to get sick!
ABUSERS!!!
Hope you reported this because it was completely wrong.
If you were the one doing that to her, she would have gone to the police and reported this as sexual harassment.
WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!


Posted 6 Years Ago


dw817

6 Years Ago

You have to understand, Kejara, I really didn't know much about legalities, and it wasn't just at th.. read more
LOL. That was so WRONG!! My eyes were probably wide with shocked disgust with the way those woman were so OPEN about it all. Class? Yeah right!

I feel so sorry you had to go through that embarrassment....

Great writing...
Sylvia.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

dw817

6 Years Ago

Really it wasn't as bad as what I went through in school with bullies and Tyr. That was a lot worse .. read more

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