The Hotel Chapter One

The Hotel Part One only

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The Hotel: Part one
By Deborah Ford

_______________________________________________

Our first visit to The Hotel went far better than I could ever
have hoped. My wife Linda was suddenly full of enthusiasm for my
plan. I had practically dragged her on the two hour drive to The
Hotel for our introductory day here but she changed her mind in
the course of a single afternoon. She went from being reluctant
and taciturn about the idea to being very impassioned for it. All
in the space of a couple of hours on our first visit to The
Hotel.

To be honest she hated the idea of me cross-dressing. I was
fortunate that she tolerated it in anyway. That was about as much
as I could expect. When I showed her the advert she was very
reluctant.

THE HOTEL
Cross-dressers
Your one chance to live and work as a maid for a full week.
Wives and Girl friends won over!
Contact the Manager: Miss Evans

There followed three solid weeks of my pleading with Linda to
give it a go. Finally she gave in but only after the manager of
The Hotel, Miss Evans, spoke to Linda personally on the phone.
Miss Evans had confidently assured me that she could win over any
hesitant wife no matter how they felt about the cross-dressing
aspect.

At the introductory day two other men and myself were taken to a
small room to fill out a questionnaire whilst Miss Evans showed
our wives ‘the possibilities open to them’ as she winningly put
it.

The questionnaire asked such questions as ‘When did you start
cross-dressing’; ‘Would you prefer to be a maid, secretary, or a
bride’. ‘Are you submissive’. The sort of queries you might
expect, except that it went on for pages and pages.

By the time I drove us home Linda was beaming like one of those
happy clappy Mormons you get calling at the door. Though oddly
she was silent the whole return trip.

I asked what she had seen but she merely smiled enigmatically and
told me ‘not to worry my little head about anything’. ‘My little
head!’ As she was agreeing to our week long stay I did not
reprimand her for her patronising cheek.

But I didn’t care. What it meant was that she had consented to us
spending a week at The Hotel. I would get the opportunity to live
out my fantasy. The only proviso from Miss Evans was that I had
to lose a stone.

Lose a stone to live out my fantasy! Easy!

Four weeks later, (and one stone lighter!), we were pulling up
outside The Hotel.

Linda looked stunning. I had never seen her so vibrant and sexy.
She had her hair styled in the latest fashion and had even lashed
out on some chic new outfits. I think that she had lost a bit of
weight as well. I did comment on the short skirt, as she usually
wore dowdy knee length ones, but she smiled that enigmatic smile
and told me ‘not to worry about it”.

As you can imagine I didn’t! I had other thoughts on my mind!

The Hotel was hard to find without precise instructions. It was a
wonder they had any guests found it at all. Winding, narrow
country lanes took us to the entrance of this secluded dream
maker. I did not pass a single signpost for it.

Miss Evans was there to greet us. She was a tall powerful figure.
Very confidant. The sort of woman who doesn’t suffer fools
gladly. When I say she greeted us, I really mean that she greeted
Linda. I suppose she just did not see me standing there,
forlornly holding Linda’s suitcase, (I was told that I did not
need to bring any clothes! A request that made my heart skip.)

I coughed to attract her attention and as she turned to face me
her smile fell from her lips leaving a somewhat disdainful cold
sneer.

“Oh yes. Around the back for you. The maid’s entrance.”

It was said firmly, in a matter of fact voice that had my tummy
turning in very pleasant somersaults. ‘The maids entrance!’ Wow.
And I had to use it. What a turn on.

Just then a tall, muscular Italian looking young man in
immaculate white tee shirt and blue jeans bounced down the steps
towards Linda. Linda’s eyes were like saucers as she took in the
hunk. The man confidently took her small hand and pressed it to
his lips.

I could see that Miss Evans was delighted with my wife’s
response.

“Paul here will look after your every need!”

I didn’t like the way she emphasised the word ‘every’.

I coughed again, pissed off at being ignored like this. After all
this was my idea and I was paying for the week long stay.

Miss Evans closed her eyes as if controlling herself in a class
of naughty school children. “Oh Paul, be a dear and take Miss
Johnson’s suitcase to her room.”

Miss Johnson! That was Linda’s maiden name.

The arrogant Roman snatched the suitcase from my hands and,
holding my wife’s fingers, led her up the steps to the main
entrance. She followed as if entranced.

I made to move after them but Miss Evans tut-tutted: “Let the man
take the suitcase to her room.” She raised her eyebrows on the
words ‘the man’ so that I was aware of her connotation: i.e. I
was not a man. “You should be around the back. Run along!”

Run along! Wow, my dick tingled and began to inflate.

I would catch up with Linda later; right now I set off eagerly
for the back entrance. The Maid’s Entrance!

There were four of us. The youngest was around twenty the oldest
around thirty five. All pretty slim, I guessed that they also had
to lose weight. I say, I had to guess, because a smallish woman
who introduced herself as Miss Steel greeted us. She had a
wonderfully curvy body but quite a severe ‘no nonsense’
expression. Anyway her first command, (and it was that!), was
that we were to be silent unless spoken to.

I thought it was delicious being ordered about by such a lovely,
little woman. A sentiment, I am sure was shared by the others as
we did not utter a word. We sat in a small, cold, stone room near
the entrance, in expectant silence for fifteen minutes before she
returned.

“Follow me,” she snapped before turning on her heels and
disappearing into the depths of the Hotel.

We did, smiling knowingly at each other. Our adventure was
beginning.

We were ushered into a bare, drafty room where she closed and
locked the outer door. Two women you would only describe as
Amazons stood beside her. They were easily six foot. One was a
dark sexy African, the other a blond Swede. They were a wet
dream. They wore white leotards that really showed up their
muscular, taut frames. It was as if they were on their way to a
gym to do some physical exercise.

A second door into the room opened and Miss Evans strode in
slamming the door frighteningly behind her. It gave me the
slightly uncomfortable feeling of being trapped. Not being
allowed to speak leaves you feeling very helpless.

The room was a sort of self contained flat. It had a set of
showers, a number of beds, sofas and a desk. It did not have
windows and only a few mats had been thrown over the stone floor.
The only luxurious item in the room was the set of full-length
mirrors running down the longest wall. They looked straight out
of an up market department store. Near them was a triple wardrobe
though that looked as shabby as the rest of the furnishings,
which consisted simply of a sofa and a couple of well used
armchairs. A few straight-backed chairs were lined up near the
desk.

I felt the four of us stiffen to attention – and I must say that
part of me was already stiffly at attention!

“Right sissies. You want to be maids and you will be maids. This
will not be a game. This will be the real thing so watch
yourselves!”

I was faint with excitement.

“You will be silent until given permission to speak and then you
must address everyone as Mistress or Mister unless you know their
surname, then it will be Mistress whatever and Mister whatever.
Is that clear?”

We nodded yes and the man to my left whispered ‘yes’.

Miss Evans caught him with a slap across his face like a whip
crack. He collapsed to the floor holding his face.

“Silence! Stand!”

A shocked and shaking man rose slowly from the floor. My erection
disappeared.

“I will decide when you speak,” Miss Evans spoke evenly as if her
assault had not taken place. “Is that clear?”

This time the four of us simply nodded, wide eyed. I noticed that
the two Amazons were grinning and the African one was licking her
lips. I was now quite scared. I felt ensnared. No one said
anything about almighty slaps across the face.

“You have met Miss Steel and this,” she indicated the Amazons,
“is Miss Jaguar and Miss Leopard. It need not worry you, which is
which. If either is called to deal with you then you will not be
concerned too much whether it is Miss Leopard or Miss Jaguar.”

Suddenly I wanted to get hold of Linda and make my escape. I was
not ready for this.

“You will now strip naked and enter the shower cubicles behind
you where you will scrub yourselves cleaner than you have ever
been in your miserable lives. You will then shave all the hair
from your bodies save that on your heads and around your groin.
There you will shave your pubic hairs so that they are a neat
triangle of pubes as befits a little maid. Now go!”

We froze looking at Miss Evans, Miss Steel and the two Amazon
misses.

Miss Evans smiled cruelly, knowingly. I noticed that the other
three women were equally amused by something.

Miss Evans walked back to a desk and plucked from behind it a
long thin cane that she shook in the air.

We looked apprehensively at each other but still none of us
moved.

“I do enjoy this moment. This will be the last time any of you
sissy girls wilfully disobeys a command.”

With that the two Amazons stepped forward and grabbed the two men
to my left.

Miss Steel pointed her finger at myself and the third man: “Don’t
you two move an inch!”

We didn’t!

Miss Jaguar and Miss Leopard manhandled the first two men until
they had them bent double with their knees on the floor, locking
their heads between the Amazon’s powerful thighs. They held their
shocked victim’s wrists easily in a single giant hand.

It would have been fascinating had it not been so dreadful. With
their freehand the two Amazons reached beneath the two shaking
men and undid their trousers pulling them and their underwear
easily down their bare legs. They handled the men so easily that
I guessed that they had carried out this task many times before.

A gleeful Miss Evans stood to one side of the first man and then
just started savagely beating him across his naked bottom. At the
same time Miss Steel stood to the other side of the second man
and started work on his backside.

I held my breath in shock. The beating went on for an age. The
men were grizzling and squealing like little children but neither
woman showed the slightest hint of mercy.

The sound the canes made was dreadful. Beads of sweat appeared on
Miss Evans forehead, her face was flushed crimson with her
effort. Miss Steel for her part wore a demonic, toothy smile that
quite distorted her good looks. Making her look terribly
fearsome.

At last Miss Evans stood up, straightened and rotated her arm.

“Next!” Miss Evans said to the two Amazons.

Oh no! The dark woman caught hold of me and twirled me about as f
I were mere child. Her hand pushed hard on the back of my neck
sending me crashing to my knees. It was all happening so quickly
I felt her weight collapse onto my head, her thighs gripping my
shoulders as she took hold of each of my hands in turn twisting
them around to my back. This was dreadfully painful. She then
combined both my wrists into one vice like grip before reaching
beneath me and wrestling with my trousers.

I then discovered that I was gripped as if in concrete. I could
not move a muscle to prevent her doing whatever she liked.

Seconds later my pants, along with my underwear, were hauled down
my thighs. One more painful twist of my hands and my nose was
pushed hard against the stone floor, my bottom stuck vulnerably
high up behind me.

The first slice was such a surprise that I did not feel anything.
Indeed the cuts came in such quick succession that I am sure that
I endured six before I cried out. I tried desperately to escape
this woman’s grip.

“Please,” I shouted. But all to no avail, the beating was
merciless.

I had often fantasised about being caned by a gorgeous dominant
woman but this was too excruciating to be erotic.

At long last I was given a push that left me gasping and crying
on the floor. My backside was burning. I could see through my
tears that not one of my colleagues had even attempted to rise
from his humbled position and escape. I am ashamed to admit that
I remained exactly where I had been pushed.

“Right sissies,” Miss Evans spoke as if she were very pleased
with herself, “when I tell you to strip I do not expect you to
stop and think about it. I expect you to do it!”

We looked up at her through our weeping.

“Now strip!” She commanded.

I reached immediately for my shoe laces, with my shoes were off I
could easily, and quickly; take off my trousers and pants. The
other three were also a hive of activity, and I could see that
the ladies were grinning from ear to ear at our maniacal
exertions.

“Very good sissies. Is it not better to obey? Yes? If you were
allowed to speak I am sure that you would reply ‘yes’!” She
laughed.

The other ladies laughed gleefully.

“Now then: shower, shave and make sure you remove all your body
hair save the triangle of pubes! That is the only body hair you
will be permitted from now on! Go!”

We ran to the showers. I was washing before the water had warmed
up. Spraying suds everywhere. In no way was I going to offer her
another chance to beat me.

In my soap dish there was a razor and I set to with it as soon as
I could. I was desperate for Miss Evans to see that I was
following her instructions to the letter.

I began under my arms, scrapping away the hair I had worn since a
teenager. Soon, my chest and legs were smooth. I spent a good
deal of care and attention between my legs. I had never taken a
razor so close to my ‘pride and joy’ before. It shrank in fear as
the razor scraped away the hair leaving the neatest of dark
triangles below my stomach.

We dried in front of the amused women who regarded as with
beaming disdain as if we were little more than an entertainment
for them.

Once dry, we four beaten, shaved and cowed men presented
ourselves to Miss Evans.

“Right let us see if you can follow a simple instruction shall
we?”

She took hold of the first man by the ear and bent him forward so
that his head was in her rounded bosom.

“The neck! You forgot your neck. Fool!”

She dragged him over to the wall length mirrors and nodded to the
Scandinavian goddess.

From nowhere the giant blond had produced a table tennis bat and
bore down eagerly on her prey.

“Face the mirror sissy!” Miss Evans commanded. “You will receive
twenty swats while you watch yourself get beaten!”

Unbelievably the man stood there whilst the swats were delivered
at machine gun speed to his already tender rump.

Apparently satisfied she returned to the second frightened man
and gave him a thorough examination. “Toes! Hair on toes! Come
along little sissy,” she said dragging him towards the mirror.

“I suspect you know what will happen. Stand facing the mirror and
watch as Miss Jaguar deals with you.”

The black woman strode menacingly up to the poor man and taking
the table tennis racket from her fellow Amazon she laid into the
poor miscreant’s backside

“Now for you,” she said with a wicked smile as she approached me,
the splat of racket against bottom echoing about me.

A quick glance at my toes told me that I was all right. I was not
particularly hairy to start with and I knew I certainly never had
hair on the back of my neck.

Yeowch! My ear was twisted sending me bowing into her bosom as
she inspected me, turning me this way then that way.

I suppose it was inevitable that I was then marched to the
mirrors.

“Hairy bottoms and nice silky knickers do not mix young sissy!
Stand here and Miss Leopard will sort you out. Watch yourself
carefully!” She commanded, as I watched her reflection already
heading back to the hapless, shaking forth man.

The Scandinavian Amazon took back the bat from her friend and I
watched her reflection stand fore square behind me.

Splat! Ouch! I kept my eyes on myself being savagely beaten on my
naked and exceedingly sore bottom. It was already fire hot before
this beating. Worse I had to stand and look at myself. I can
barely describe the humiliation I felt watching myself standing
as helplessly as a naughty child whilst being spanked by a woman
who had already got the better of me. I watched in mental as well
as physical torment as the tears ran down my cheeks. Why had I
not thought of the hairs in my bottom! How stupid I had been.

I stood obediently until she finished this ultra fast beating
just in time for Miss Jaguar to take the bat and start on the
forth victim.

We were returned to the showers to follow our original
instruction of shaving ourselves properly. I made sure I did a
thorough job this time. No way was I going to find myself back in
front of that wretched mirror watching myself being thrashed.
When he had finished we were handed a bottle of sweet smelling
lotion that we were commanded to rub into our bodies but to keep
away from our heads.

“This will save you the effort of having to shave every morning,”
Miss Evans cooed.

When we emerged from the showers this time Miss Evans was pleased
with us. “Good little sissies. Do you see how obedience is so
much nicer than disobedience? You may nod.”

I nodded eagerly like a horse. Yes I could see that.

The other girls laughed at us but we were merely pleased to have
satisfied Miss Evans and to have avoided more punishment.

“Good. Now Miss Steel is going to hand you all a small metal
cylinder.”

Miss Steel approached us all with a derisive grin that I was
beginning to find irritating. The first chance I got I would get
hold of my wife Linda and we would escape this dreadful place and
these horribly sadistic ladies.

“Hold it tight sissies.”

Miss Steel handed me mine. It was two inches long, very cold and
despite its thin layer of metal it felt very tough.

I held mine tightly as commanded. I was not going to end up with
another beating!

“Now the part you have all been waiting so patiently for,” Miss
Evans held up a black waist clincher. Perhaps more functional
than sexy in appearance but nevertheless I felt my Willy quiver
at the thought of something so fine and delicate against my skin.
Perhaps all this suffering would be worthwhile.

“This will go around your waists. It is will be very
constricting,” she warned, “but be clear my dears, if it does not
fit then you will be ejected forthwith from my establishment.”

All thoughts of escaping vanished. I was determined to get it on.

“It wraps about the waist and will meet in the small of your back
where Miss Leopard and Miss Jaguar will kindly help you sissies
by securing it. So breathe in deeply and turn around!”

I turned and sucked my stomach in as hard as I could. I could
hear the first two men grunting with the strain of reducing their
waistlines so drastically to accommodate the corset. But it could
not have taken long because within moments I felt one of the
Amazons flap the material about my midriff before hauling it
tight and snug about my waist. I too grunted. I had a moment of
panic, as I feared it was not going to fit. But an almighty tug
from my Amazon yanked it tautly into position.

Now another moment of panic, worse than the first: I could not
breath. My head swam.

“Take nice ease quick breaths sissies. Like breathless
teenagers!”

I followed her instructions and was relieved to feel my self
returning to some level of normality. No way would I be able to
take a huge lung full of air while I wore this. Nor would I be
able to wear it for very long.

“Now face front and listen very carefully to the next part.”

I turned with the other men noticing that their waists were now
femininely small. I wanted to stroke mine to feel the affect on
my body but did not dare to. So I kept hold of the metal cylinder
and faced the sneering ladies.

Miss Steel was pulling slender metallic strips from her bag.
There was something intricate about the ends of the strips but I
could not quite make them out.

“Now,” Miss Evans continued, “wet the end of the cylinder and
pull the useless organ between your legs through it.”

The cylinder was surely too tiny. I looked up to Miss Evans to
see if I had misunderstood her instruction, but she gave me such
a wicked glare that I immediately wetted the ends and attempted
to push my Willy through it.

“Only real sissies who can complete this task go on to the next
stage,” she cautioned us.

I poked my soft member into the cylinder and then by reaching
underneath and grasping the foreskin between thumb and forefinger
I was able to pull and slide it through. The helmet now poked its
head out and looked worryingly as if I would never be able to
retract and free itself again.

“Good. Now stand with your legs two feet apart and keep perfectly
still. You are all doing very well, don’t you agree Miss steel?”

Miss Steel approached the first man at the one end of the line.
“Yes indeed Miss Evans. Four obedient little sissies.”

I watched her tinker in front of him with one of the lengths of
metal, somehow fixing it to the front of the corset before moving
behind him. She then pulled the free ends tightly back between
his legs where it divided into two lengths. These she ran around
the outer part of his buttocks and connected them to the corset
at the sides.

She moved onto the second man and went through the same
mystifying procedure. When it was my turn I could see what was
happening. The first piece of metal clipped onto the front of the
corset at naval height and was then pulled down until it clipped
onto the metal cylinder. By hauling it tightly from behind she
was fixing my imprisoned Willy neatly between my legs.

After the forth man was secured in the same way we were invited
to study ourselves in the mirrors. I was astounded. With the
narrowed waist and no visible sign of a male member I looked very
feminine. Only a neat triangle of black pubes marked out my groin
my male member had temporarily vanished.

Maybe, just maybe, this would be worth the ordeal!

“You all look very pleased with yourselves! Little minxes! Now go
and lie down on one of the tables. And remember sissies take
small steps and move slowly or else you’ll have trouble
breathing.”

I quickly realised that she was right. Taking tiny gasps of
breaths and short steps I reached a bed and pretty soon we were
all lying face up on the beds.

“Again you must remain perfectly still.”

Miss Jaguar rubbed her huge palms above my corset. I felt
something cold and gooey being rubbed onto the top of my chest.
She then placed a pinky blancmange onto my left chest. It was a
breast. I mean a real breast with even a nipple sitting on top of
it. I caught my breath, my eyes wide with excitement. I never
dreamed a false one could look so real. As she settled it on to
me I could see that it moved just like a real boob. Moments later
it was joined by the second. This really was exciting! My sore
bottom was a small price to pay for such a transformation.

“Stop grinning sissies and follow me,” Miss Evans laughed good-
naturedly joining in with our individual delight.

Miss Evans was already out through the door by the time I had
swung my smooth legs off the bed. My boobs bounced gloriously.
Had I been allowed time I would have loved to have played with
them but I knew I had to follow the wonderful Miss Evans. A dream
was becoming reality. I held my hands beneath my new boobs,
fearful that they would slip off. I was pleased to see that they
remained precisely in position. A shadow of concern crossed my
mind. I tried to reassure myself that they would probably fall
off in a hot shower or else Miss Evans had a substance to help
release them.

It was then that I was reminded of my limitations. I had to stop
and catch my breath. Short steps and short breaths! I had
completely forgotten myself and felt my lungs straining as I
strode from the table.

I minced as quickly as I could towards the open door only to
experience something wholly unique to me. As I passed Miss Jaguar
she put her huge black hand onto my bottom and squeezed it like a
ripe grapefruit. I turned and looked in surprise at her smiling
face as she winked saucily at me.

I felt excited and exhilarated. This was better than any fantasy!

We were led into a small hairdresser’s salon where there were two
lady hairdressers, real ladies as far as I could make out in this
wonderfully topsy-turvy universe. But there were two other people
in the room and, I was gobsmacked at this, they were two male
maids. They were immaculately attired and made up with the most
real looking blond, curly feminine hair. They could have been
twins were it not for the fact that one was taller than the
other.

“No gawping sissies! Take a seat each and keep your mouths shut.
No one has given you permission to speak yet!”

As I sat in the comfortable leather seat I heard her bark: “You
two sluts get these sissies hair washed. Now!”

There was a clatter of heels as I found myself with my head bent
painfully into the sink. Hot water was run and I smelt the
shampoo as it was lathered into my scalp. The male maid bent
closer to me and I sniffed her perfume. His perfume, I mean. He
was so lucky. I became aware of a whispering sound. She was
trying to speak to me but in a voice so quiet that I cold barely
hear her, or him. As she ran the water into the metal sink she
used the noise to drown her voice:

“Get out of here while you can!”

I dared not reply. Miss Steel was only a few feet away. When I
tried to catch his eyes he busied himself with my hair. Get out!
Never. I suspect that he was jealous of seeing more maids
arriving. Well that was his tough luck!

There followed two long hours of pampering. I say pampering
because all I had to do was sit still and do as instructed as the
real women added hair extensions to my own hair. Sometimes it was
a bit painful as the pulled, rather sadistically I thought, on my
own hair but for the most part it was a gorgeous experience.

With the extensions added they dyed all my hair, old and new,
blond using this foul smelling mixture before tightening little
crimps and rollers into it. All the extra hair was tightened down
to my scalp and then a hot dryer was placed over me.

“Do you want them tied down Miss Evans?” Asked one of the
hairdressers.

“No. They are born chicken-hearted, obedient, little maids. Stay
there all of you!” She barked and the two women laughed as we sat
rigidly in the seats.

The hairdresser would better understand why we were so reluctant
to escape if she knew how hard we had been beaten. But for my
part I was desperate to see the finished result. Besides sitting
here I could see my new boobs, trim waist and neat triangle in
the mirror. I was not going to miss looking at myself.

And now for the downside. At home I would often dress and play
with myself while looking in the mirror. But now I was unable to
play with myself as my penis was held beyond my reach, between my
legs, by the steel containers. I could feel all the usual warm
desires in my stomach but my Willy could not respond. As soon as
I the contraption off I promised myself hours of well deserved
fun!

When the dryer and curlers were removed my new blond hair bounced
joyously into a sexy tangle of curls that framed my face. I was
already looking so feminine that someone would have to look twice
to see that I was in fact male.

We were then fed, in silence of course, with two lettuce
sandwiches and a glass of water with a slice of lemon in it.
Still it would tide me over until I was fed properly. With my
waist cinched so tightly I was forced to sit bolt upright as I
ate, my boobs jiggling on display. Not that I minded of course.
And judging by the smiles of my three fellow male maids nor did
they mind showing off their new boobs. We each shook our
shoulders or sat straight or then back arched, anything in fact
that would better display our new assets.

The next stage was makeup. The two hairdressers fussed about us
as the male maids were sent on errands. I watched enviously as
they received their commands, offered a swift “yes Miss,” before
clip-clopping away in their heels to fulfil their instructions.

I noticed their neat and perfunctory curtseys. Pretty soon that
would be me!

I recalled the silly warning: ‘get out while you can’ and smiled
to myself. They would be so impressed with my curtseying that I
am sure I would put those other maids in the shade. Obviously
that was what was worrying the maid who had whispered the silly
warning. Jealous bitch!

We are all made up identically: four blondes, with reddened,
shaped cheekbones and pink lipstick. The same colouring as the
two male maids who helped the hairdresser. I wondered if all the
maids were made to look the same. There was something
disconcerting about this mass Barbie doll approach. I would not
be an individual. If I performed well no one would recognise me.

Once made up we were walked back to the first room with the
mirrors and beds. Here was a sight that would take away the
breath of any cross-dresser. The wardrobes were now opened wide
and were lined with the most adorable of women’s clothing. Mainly
black maid’s uniforms of course, but plenty of aprons, and
shelves of underwear too.

The two Amazons arrived and stood behind us, something I found
intimidating having earlier discovered their power and strength.
You could not be sure what they would do next. They were
certainly capable of handling us as easily as if we were
children. Worse my bottom still smarted from its punishment
earlier in the day.

Miss Evans and Miss Steel stood before us. “Nearly there,
sissies, or should I now start calling you girls?”

We laughed and Miss Evans face turned storm cloud grey. “Silence!
You will be shown how to giggle and told at what times you are
allowed to giggle! Until then the only sound I will tolerate from
you is your squeals of pain when you are being reprimanded”

My heart sank. Would there be further chastisement? I listened
carefully for movement from behind us. There was none. Phew.

“Once you are suitably attired as maids then you will be taught a
few simple phrases that you will be permitted to use at
appropriate times. And I stress that, ‘at appropriate times!'”

That did not sound very nice. Were we to be banned from speaking
throughout our stay?

“Firstly bra and knickers,” Miss Steel said reaching for the
rails. “Knickers will always be black and tight unless otherwise
instructed. There will be occasions when you must wear different
colours, such as white when you attend school…”

Attend school? What was that about?

“…but black and tight are what most of our clients here prefer.
Bras will be lacy and maybe part of a corset. The cinch around
your waists is worn at all times even if you wear a corset over
it. By all times, girls, I mean exactly that. It is never removed
even when you are in bed.”

Oh dear. I did not fancy that at all. In fact I was looking
forward to having it removed soon so that I could breathe
properly again. Would I be able to last a week wearing it?

“All bras are of the same push up design. There is little point
in giving you all boobs if we cannot show you off to our clients
is there?”

We all smiled. That was true. I could not wait until I wrapped
the lacy bra about my newly acquired ample boobs!

“There may also be occasions when you will not wear a bra at all,
but once again we will tell you about them! Unless told otherwise
this is what you must wear at all waking times!”

Miss Steel then handed us our heart stopping lingerie. They were
gorgeous. I stroked the silky material thorough my fingers and my
heart raced.

“Put them on girls!” Smiled Miss Evans as if understanding our
appreciation of the articles.

The knickers were indeed tight. In fact even with my Willy tucked
away they were too tight for comfort. However wearing them
completed the mirage of me having nothing but a pussy.

I had worn bras before so I knew all about clipping them on back
to front and then spinning them around. What I had never
experienced before was the exquisite pleasure of squeezing my
boobs into them.

They were indeed uplifting! My boobs stood out like rounded
shelves, framed with lacy black. Wow!

Now I was desperate to play with myself. I could feel my Willy
thickening inside its metal constraint.

“Come along girls. Hurry it up,” Miss Evans sighed. “We have a
lot to get through before bedtime. Stockings next!”

The two Amazons passed us our sheer black nylons and a matching
suspender belt. My head was swimming with sensory overload. The
belt hooked neatly around my narrowed waist. I pulled up the
stockings slowly and deliberately, relishing every silky moment.

I then anchored them to the suspenders, which drew them tight and
firm around my smooth legs. I guessed that they contained a good
deal of Lycra. I also reasoned that I had never been able to wear
a suspender belt around a trimmed in waist before. At home the
suspender belt would slip down when I attached the stockings. But
my hips were now wider than my waist so it sat fixed in the right
position.

I looked at the other three men – well girls! Our metamorphosis
was very effective. Our blond hair, make up and black lacy
underwear was steamingly sexy.

“The dresses have the petticoats stitched inside. It will save
you precious time in the morning girls,” Miss Evans dryly pointed
out.

I held up the black short dress with the flowering, pleated skirt
and it’s under carriage of starched flouncey petticoats. We each
stepped in and pulled them up, pushing our bare arms through the
puffy sleeves. At first I thought there had been a mistake as the
skirt part was so short.

Miss Leopard stood behind me and zipped me into the dress,
melting it perfectly around my new curves.

My boobs were exhibited by the combination of the push up bra and
the low cut of the dress. I felt half embarrassed and half
exhilarated at the thought of appearing so libidinously
revealing. I tugged at the hem of the skirt but knew that it
would never fall lower than the tops of my stockings.

“Shoes!” Miss Evans barked simply.

The two Amazons presented us with our black, strappy, sandal
stilettos. I crouched down to the floor to keep my balance as I
eased my stockinged foot into each shoe in turn. The tiny straps
were a devil to do up. But finally I stood up shakily, every bit
an alluring appealing maid. From my toes to my blond hair.

“In a line girls for your first rules.”

We stood where she indicated.

“Right. You know that we do not tolerate disobedience nor will we
indulge you with silly hesitations. When a command is given you
will simply curtsey and then carry out the chore. Questions are
unnecessary and the task must be performed to the complete
satisfaction of the guest or staff member who gave you the
instruction. Before bedtime you will be given a few
straightforward expressions that you will be allowed to use. On
no account do you speak unless spoken to. Never!”

She emphasised ‘never’ so severely that I felt a chill run up my
backbone.

“Nor should you ever use words other those that we will allocate
to you. If you wish to go to the toilet you should raise your
hand, discreetly mind,” she warned, eyes narrowing, “to either a
guest or a staff member. Don’t bother asking another maid, even
the senior ones. Only staff or guests can give you permission.”

Asking permission to use the toilet! Did she not realise how
humiliating that would be!

“Remember girls, the cameras are everywhere! And I do mean
everywhere. So there will be no dawdling or idle gossiping in the
Ladies toilets,” she smiled wickedly at this remark, enjoying our
discomfort.

“Punishments are three fold. Firstly on the spot chastisement.
This is carried out by either a member of staff or a guest, and
will be anywhere they choose. Often it takes place straight after
the offence. This is usually a straightforward spanking or a
slap. It can be delivered by the hand or by an implement of their
choosing. I will show you later how to arrange yourselves over
someone’s lap, or over an object such as a table or a chair. They
can give you six smacks on the spot, but no more. But be warned
girls it is six smacks per offence, so do not dally when you are
asked to drop over their knee.”

This was worrying. Suppose Linda was around when someone wanted
to spank me? Would I be allowed to explain that my wife was to
witness my humiliation? At least that way I would probably be
spared the additional shame of being disciplined before my wife.
No one would surely wish to see me so degraded.

“The second stage is more serious and may follow the six smacks.
If the staff member or guest feels that you deserve further
correction, then they will write out a note for you. You will
bring this note to myself, Miss Steel, Miss Leopard or Miss
Jaguar as soon as practicable. Our punishments are unlimited in
terms of what we can do and for how long we do it.”

My mouth fell open. The two Amazons were smirking superiorly at
us, and even Miss Steel licked her lips! I would certainly be
avoiding a visit to any of them with a note like an errant child!

“The third punishment is a particular favourite of the hotel,”
beamed Miss Evans with pride. “The miscreant is given a sign that
hangs around her neck. It reads, quite simply, ‘please spank me’.
Of course the guests and staff are still limited to the six
spanks each but as the maid has to wear it for a specific length
of time she undergoes many and varied beatings from all and
sundry. An hour of trying to do your chores wearing the sign is a
lesson few girls choose to repeat.”

I found my hands defensively brushing my skirt around my bottom.
Clad as I was I knew that there would be great temptation to
spank me. The sight of a maid dressed as invitingly as this was
too much for anyone, even a masochist like me, to resist! I would
like to upend one of the little minxes and chastise her.

“Is that all clear? You may nod.”

We all nodded promptly, worried that the slightest hesitation
would be met with a further beating.

“And now I suspect you would like to learn the words you will be
permitted to use!”

I smiled with relief. It would be so nice to be able to speak
again, to at least voice some of my concerns.

“Ok firstly: ‘Yes’, repeat it girls: ‘yes’.”

“Yes,” I whispered uncertainly. After being silent for most of
the afternoon I felt very self-conscious.

“A bit louder girls,” groaned Miss Evans. “We have to be able to
hear you. Bimbo maids must say the word ‘yes’ a good deal!”

The women laughed evilly.

“Yes,” we chorused together.

“It will do for now. Second word, as I am sure you have guessed
is ‘no’. Say it.”

“No,” we repeated uneasily. It seemed that at any moment we would
be upended by one of the amazons and soundly thrashed.

“‘Sir’ and ‘Mistress’, try those please.”

“Sir and mistress,” we chimed.

Miss Evans laughed. “Not the ‘and’ though girls. Maids do not
require the use if the word ‘and’. Just ‘sir’ and ‘Mistress’. So
once again please.”

“Sir, Mistress,” we said uncertainly, though I think that the
maid to my right almost said ‘and’ again.

“And finally three further words: ‘please’, ‘thank-you’ and
‘sorry’. Try them.”

“Please, thank you, sorry,” we repeated.

“Well done. You have now learned your entire vocabulary necessary
for your stay here. No other words are tolerated.”

What! But she must be joking. How can you get by with just a
handful of words?

“Bear in mind the combinations. Maids at The Hotel are always
courteous and well mannered. Always use ‘please’ and ‘thank you’
where appropriate. You must also remember that any time you do
find it necessary to speak you should curtsey. There are two
curtseys to learn. One deep one when you first enter a room or
when you are introduced to a guest or staff member. The second is
a quick bob when you reply to a command.”

“So this will be lesson one. I will ask you whether you
understand what I have just told you and you must react in the
way you feel most appropriate. Miss Leopard and Miss Jaguar will
assess your performance and punish the one who performs the task
the worst. Ready girls?”

My mouth fell open. What were we supposed to do? My tummy knotted
with trepidation. The last thing I wanted was another beating. I
listened carefully for what ever it was Miss Evans was about to
say.

Suddenly the women were laughing. I was baffled. Why were they
laughing?

“Well we do seem to have a right bunch of airheads here. Don’t
you agree Miss Steel?”

Miss Steel was beaming, “I fear you are right Miss Evans. The
training could continue for quite some time!”

What?

“Silly girls,” Miss Evans purred. “Silly, silly girls. I know it
was a little trick but I do like to keep you maids on your toes.
You see, I did ask ‘if you were ready girls’. To which the
correct response would have been a bob and a ‘yes mistress.’
Still. It gives Miss Leopard and Miss Jaguar something to do,”
she chortled wickedly.

Oh no!

Miss Leopard and Miss Jaguar advanced on the first two maids to
my left before taking one each by the ear. They led them back to
the mirrors where they were arranged to stand facing their own
anxious reflection.

The two Amazons went to the main desk and smiling at each other
produced two thin whippy canes. Oh no this was not happening. It
was a nightmare. I wished I was allowed to speak so that I could
protest. I had changed my mind. Even this wonderful outfit was
not worth this pain and degradation.

“Hold up your skirts,” commanded Miss Leopard brushing back her
own short cropped blond hair.

Needless to say the two recalcitrant maids smartly obeyed.

With the backs of their skirts raised to reveal the tightest
black panties, bare thighs and stocking tops the two Amazons took
their positions tapping the canes experimentally against the
quivering backsides.

“Now bear in mind girls that eyes are to be held on your
reflection at all times,” Miss Evans warned.

The arms, one black and one white went up in unison and the canes
whipped down with such force that the two maids legs buckled
immediately at the knees. The terrible squeals they emitted shook
me to my bones. I needed to protest that I did not want this but
how could I when I was not even permitted to speak!

The second cracked across their bottoms making them squeal and
twist like a flag in the wind.

“Hold still please girls. I will not tolerate moving targets for
my staff!” Miss Evans said brutally.

I could see that the two maids were steeling themselves for the
third blow.

Five minutes and six canings later two sobbing girls were hauled
back to position before a triumphant Miss Evans.

Suddenly my ear was grabbed and twisted most painfully and I was
hauled on my heels across the floor. Oh no. Please don’t let this
happen to me!

It was the black skinned Miss Jaguar who manhandled me until I
faced the mirror. I could see myself along with the reflection of
the last maid, staring at our selves in the mirror. If it were
not for my immediate predicament I would have loved seeing myself
after this transition. I looked so feminine and, well sexy. That
is ‘sexy’ if it was not for wide-eyed look of fear and trembling
bottom lip.

“Skirts up!” Miss Leopard said, obviously enjoying herself
immensely!

I immediately, virtually mechanically, raised the back of my
short dress revealing my backside to the room air. I knew that
the flimsy tight knickers would afford no protection to the
wicked, thin canes.

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes.

“I hope everyone is looking at their own reflection!” Admonished
Miss Evans.

I opened my eyes wide like a frightened rabbit.

In the mirror I was able to watch the canes rise above our heads.
Miss Evans knew what she was doing! The shame of standing there
holding your skirt up to these two arrogant dominant Amazons and
having to watch it was dreadfully, stomach churning embarrassing.

All I felt was the searing heat of a stripe across my buttocks. I
thought my knees would give way altogether, sending me crashing
to the floor.

Miss Evans was quick: “Keep your legs straight you worthless
sluts or I will make it worse for you!”

Worse! How could it be worse! I straightened up my legs
determined to keep them locked straight.

Swish. Yowl.

I knew that it was me yowling though the forth maid was squealing
just as loudly. My bum was burning and I knew that unless they
spared me I would have to suffer the full six the first two maids
received.

They did not spare either of us. I had the full six.

When Miss Jaguar finally took hold of my ear and led me back I
was crying like a baby.

We were arranged back in position before Miss Evans.

“Now where were we girls? Oh yes. I will ask you whether you
understand and you will reply as you think best. The worst
performance merits a punishment. Ready girls?”

I took hold of my skirt and held it out as I performed my first
ever curtsey. “Yes Mistress,” I choked through my tears, hearing
the three other maids say the same thing.

Miss Evans clapped her hands and laughed. “Well done girls. You
are so clever! So here we go: do you understand your position
here?”

“Yes Mistress,” along with a bobbed curtsey.

“Oh good. Well done. So let us ask the adjudicators who was
worst.”

Miss Evans turned to the two Amazons who exchanged a wicked
knowing smirk with each other.

Miss Leopard spoke with a Scandinavian accent: “They were all
insolent Miss Evans.”

Miss Jaguar had a South African bark to her voice: “They do not
look particularly subservient to me Miss Evans.”

I was stunned. How unfair could they be!

“Oh dear girls. It would appear that we all have a long way to go
before we can let you loose upstairs with guests!”

This was dreadful. Two sadists were asked to judge how we
performed when they had the benefit of satisfying their sadistic
urges on us if they felt we disappointed them! I clenched my
fists tightly. If only I was allowed to speak! I would soon put
these silly madams in their place and let them know what was
what!

“Still”, Miss Evans said thoughtfully. “It does fit in neatly
with your next lesson – how to receive a spanking.”

Oh no! It got worse.

The ladies organised four straight back chairs before the long
mirrors.

“It may look the easiest act in the world,” Miss Evans said as
she placed her chair exactly how she wanted it. “Especially for
you show off maids. All of whom are desperate to get yourselves
across the lap of some handsome hunk. All just to flash your
pretty knickers at him.”

Really! My cheeks burned with shame as much as my arse cheeks
burnt with pain.

“How could any of you resist the opportunity to reveal your neat
underwear and submit to the strength of a real man.”

She was going too far!

“However my dears, I am here to tell you that it is much harder
than it looks. Your undivided attention now will save you a good
deal of pain and misery in the very near future. So approach us
please.”

I heard one of the maids say “yes mistress,” so I quickly bobbed
a “yes mistress” too. As did the others.

“Good girls. I can see improvements already!”

I found myself before Miss Jaguar, her black arm muscles almost
mannish in their physical strength.

“Now men like to tug you over their laps…” began Miss Evans.

As if on practised cue Miss Jaguar took hold of my wrist and gave
it a sharp compelling tug, making me topple over her. She then
wrenched my wrist high in the air brining me back to my heeled
feet.

“But we ladies like to take charge in a more subtle way,” Miss
Evans continued as she sat in the chair. “So down you get!” she
said to the frightened first maid at her side as she patted her
thighs.

Miss Jaguar beamed at me and patted her lap with her two large
hands.

Oh dear, there did not seem to be any choice. I awkwardly leaned
over her and settled myself down, over her lap. I noticed the
maid in front of me doing the same so that her heels danced
before me. My eyes ran all the way up her black-hosed legs to her
visible stocking tops and the hem of her pleated maid’s skirt.

I was now balancing precariously over the lap of the grinning
Miss Jaguar. “Good girl,” I heard her whisper in her South
African accent. I felt a light pat on my bottom. This was
dreadfully humiliating! Why could they not just get it over and
done with?

“Now listen carefully girls as this will apply whether it be men
or ladies who are punishing you. They will wish to arrange you as
they see fit. So prepare to be edged about on their lap until
they are comfortable and happy with your position.”

What about me being happy and comfortable!

Miss Evan continued her lecture. “This may mean having you moved
forwards…”

Miss Jaguar eased me forwards so that my blond curls flopped
about my face and my forehead was nearly touching the floor. My
legs were now kicking wildly for balance.

“Or you may be pulled back.”

I was helped backwards so that my knees were close to touching
the floor. I was now able to look right up the skirt of the maid
in front of me. I could clearly see her tight black knickers

“You may be required to be pushed towards the knees…”

I was pushed down Miss Jaguar’s thighs.

“Or nearer the lady or man’s tummy.”

I was dragged back as if I were nothing more than a doll.

“However you are positioned it is always for you to facilitate
their demands as best you can.”

Miss Jaguar now drew me further over her lap into the first
position where my head was almost touching the floor and my legs
were kicking in mid air. She then manoeuvred me away from her
tummy.

Miss Evans continued: “Now it is a simple matter of raising the
skirt….”

I felt the flimsy skirt being raised leaving me with that
vulnerable, exposed feeling for the umpteenth time that
afternoon.

“Remember girls. Be brave. It is never more than six when
delivered by a guest or most members of staff.”

But my bottom was already sore!

“On no accounts try to cover your bottom with your hands. That is
sure to get you into hot water. Don’t try to wriggle off your
punisher’s lap either. You are there for the duration and until
you are told to stand up. Here goes.”

I braced my self.

Slap!

Ouch.

Slap.

Ooooh.

Slap.

Yeow.

On an already sore behind these slaps were killing me. Her hands
were so large!

Slap.

Youch!

I felt tears burn me eyes.

Slap.

Oooooh!

“There,” announced Miss Evans, “that wasn’t so bad was it?”

“No Mistress,” we mumbled in a manner that told me that I was not
the only maid who was crying.

“Right up you get and thank your respective mistress.”

I stood up stiffly. Bobbed, choking back the tears. “Thank you,
mistress,” I grizzled to the dark Amazon.

The look on Miss Jaguar’s face was frightful. So superior and
full of herself. She looked as if she was having a very good time
indeed!

“Well done girls. Of course any protests would have meant a
further visitation from the cane and we would not want that would
we?”

I bobbed with the other maids, “no Mistress.” No we certainly
would not want that!

“Now for position two.”

I closed my eyes. This was too much!

“Lie face down over the chairs girls.”

I painfully climbed over the chair with my head and stockinged
toes touching the floor.

“This is a very simple position girls. You just lie there whilst
the spanker prepares you. I think this time ladies we will give
them six swats on their skirted bottoms.

The pleated skirt and ruffled petticoats made the whacks seem
duller somehow than the sharp slaps we had received on our
knicker-clad bottoms. That is not to say that it was any less
painful! Tears rolled down our cheeks.

Six swats later we were helped to our high-heeled feet.

“The final position with the chairs girls is this…” Miss Evans
turned the chair around that the high back was facing her maid.
The other ladies did the same so I was left facing the high back
of the chair that came to waist height on me. “Right, over you go
girls.”

I collapsed compliantly over the chair back. This was nothing
short of outrageous. First chance I had I would be off!

“There girls. This is similar to lying across a desk or table.
Okay Ladies concentrate on the thighs this time. Just hand slaps
please.”

Now my thighs were roasted by three smart strikes on each.

“Now stand up girls!” Ordered an amused Miss Evans.

I rose stiffly. Everywhere below my skirt was hot and sore.
Stinging like blazes.

“Well done, you have all passed your first test!”

The ladies clapped as if genuinely pleased for us. They were
insane.

“Now I want you to each congratulate the other maids by giving
them a kiss on each cheek,” Miss Evans instructed us.

For one terrible moment we froze to the spot. I could not kiss
another man – even if he looked anything but like a man. But that
moment passed for all of us as we raced from maid to maid. The
first two kisses were the worst – both giving and receiving, but
that then it just felt like a chore. As chores went it was not
that unpleasant. I felt a sort of sisterhood with these male
maids. We had all been through the same ordeal together.

“Well done!”

More applause.

“Ladies I can see that these girls may well earn themselves their
names before bedtime. Do try and keep up this good work!”

A name! I was nameless? What a curious feeling. Here I was as
anonymous as you could get. I looked exactly the same as the
three other maids in the room and identical to the two maids I
had see earlier in the hairdressers. I shivered. It was as if I
had been denied an identity. Just an item, a machine, something
that was part of The Hotel.

“Now I want you all to come over to this desk and bend over it,”
Miss Evans continued.

I groaned inwardly. I could not take another beating. I thought
that she had said that we had done well!

I wondered if I should fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness.
Perhaps that would be even worse. How many canings would that
result in? And how could I arrange the few words I was permitted
to use to beg for mercy?

Like the other three I made my way apprehensively towards the
desk. I then bent over it sniffing up the tears.

“Legs apart my sweets,” I heard her ‘humph’ with derision. “When
you are ordered to part your legs ladies it does not mean by a
few inches!”

I manoeuvred my legs so that my feet were about two feet apart.
Surely she would be happy with that?

“Good girls. You really are going to do well here!”

As I bent over the desk feeling more vulnerable than ever I felt
someone step up behind me. A careful look back told me that it
was the dark skinned Miss Jaguar again.

“Now you are about to find out that not all contact with staff
and guests is necessarily painful,” Miss Evans assured us.

I felt Miss Jaguar lift up my skirt and I held my breath.

“Just like your punishments girls all you have to do is remain as
still as possible. You will never have to worry your empty little
heads about anything. We all do the thinking for you.”

I shivered as I felt a strong hand stroke down my tight silky
knickers. It felt so good after all the dreadful punishments of
the last few hours.

The fingers tickled at my burning bottom making me smile despite
my soreness and tears. They tickled between my cheeks in a
wonderfully sensual manner. No one had ever done that to me
before. Then they slipped between my legs and my breathing grew
even shorter and shorter. My eyes closed and my senses drifted
away to a beautiful foreign land. Now the fingers were hard
between my legs tickling the base of my penis, which pushed back
between my thighs, locked resolutely in position in the metal
cylinder. It responded at once and I heard a groan. It was a soft
groan and only when it was repeated did I realise that it was me
who was doing the groaning. Groaning with mindless delight.

I could also hear the other maids vocalising their pleasure. We
were in Seventh Heaven. A wonderful place where you did nothing,
except experience sensual pleasure. I felt my hips wriggling to
help her hand go deeper and bucked my bottom back towards her.
Anything to encourage further contact.

“Now girls,” Miss Evans said softly, “you will be asked if you
want to come. If you do then you must say ‘yes please mistress’
to your own mistress.”

I listened through the swirls of the inevitable orgasm for the
magic words.

“Would you like to come slut?” I heard her African tones say.

I hesitated briefly in order to get enough breath and sense to
hoarsely reply: “Yes, please mistress”

Slap!

My bottom was slapped hard.

“Stand up girls!” Commanded Miss Evans. “Quickly. Quickly or it
will be the worst for you!”

We stood up as one. I found I had to grip the desk as my legs
were shaking so much. My Willy was desperate to explode but was
trapped in its steel and silken prison.

“You have passed the second test girls.”

The ladies clapped at us again and I did not know whether I was
coming or going. My head was still spinning. My body was
desperate for sexual release.

“Only wanton sluts who are easily seduced can become maids here.
And looking down the line I can see that not one of you can
resist a hand between your legs!”

The ladies laughed at us but I was still too far gone to feel any
resentment.

“Typical little sluts. Can you feel how wet your knickers are
between your legs?”

I certainly could. My precum was greater than my normal cum load.
It soaked my panties making them feel uncomfortable and sticky
between my legs.

“Hot obedient maids, just how we like them isn’t it ladies?”

The ladies laughed and nodded enthusiastically. What pleasure
could they get in beating and then tormenting us like this! I
drew my stockinged legs together but now every nuance of silk
thrilled me more. I would do anything to be allowed to come.

“I feel you have done so well that I will give you your names
right now!” Miss Evans reached into her bag and pulled out some
metallic white slides with safety pins attached.

She stood before the first maid and held out a nametag, “You
shall be Shelly.” Then smartly on to the second maid. “You shall
be Tracy,” she offered the badge to the maid who took it
dreamily. Like me she was still too light headed to know what was
happening.

Miss Evans was now before me, holding out my tag. “You shall be
Debbie,” she said as I accepted my nametag.

“And finally you shall be Sharon,” she said to the forth and
final maid. “Shelly, Tracy, Debbie and Sharon!” She announced to
further clapping. “But do understand girls that names are a
privilege not a right. They can be removed or changed at the whim
of the staff.”

Suited me. I did not like the idea of being known by such a tarty
name as Debbie. Why could I not have a classier name like
Christina or even Linda. Or Deborah. Debbie was such an obvious
slutty name. The sort of office girl who spends her time at the
office party in the cupboard with various sales reps shagging her
silly.

“Ok girls,” Miss Evans announced with a degree of finality, “the
last point you need to remember is about walking. The eyes of the
hotel are permanently upon you! Any deviation from the proper
method of movement will be punished immediately. YOU must keep
your elbows tight into your waists….”

I immediately tucked my elbows hard into my narrowed waist.

“…fingers should be spread a little apart, and palms should
always face the floor.”

I spread my fingers and ensured that my hands were facing the
floor.

“Lips must be pursed….”

I puckered my lips.

“And when at rest one knee should fall elegantly in front of the
other. Ankles together.”

My legs seemed to arrange them selves!

“When walking the back should be straight so that boobs are
pointing in the direction in which you are headed. And,” she
added sharply, “bottoms must wriggle!”

So much to take in. Hands, fingers, bottoms, walking, standing!

Miss Evans pointed up to a small black box in the corner of the
room close to the ceiling.

“Every corridor and every working space has a camera. That way we
can keep any eye out for any errant young ladies. Miss Leopard
and Miss Jaguar will also be doing their best to find girls who
are too lazy to conform properly to the manner of presentation
desired.”

Miss Jaguar grinned at me and I quickly checked my stance. Legs
were right, elbows right and hands ok. Phew.

“Good. It is now dinner time!”

And about time too I thought. I was starving. I did not know what
I needed most food or to be allowed to cum.

“So Sharon if you stand here,” she grabbed Sharon’s arm and led
the now docile maid into the middle of the floor. “Shelly you
here,” she placed Shelly some five meters away from Sharon.

“Debbie?” She crooked her finger and I burst into life wriggling
dutifully towards her. “You here.”

“Yes Mistress,” I bobbed. I was stood about 5 meters from Sharon
and Shelly as if forming a pyramid.

“And finally Tracy here.”

We maids now formed the corners of a square.

“Now girls you will practice your walking by wriggling around in
a slow moving circle. When you reach the point where Sharon is
presently standing you will each perform a neat curtsey. Whilst
you practise your moves we ladies will enjoy dinner and observe
you closely on the monitors. So do not disappoint us!”

My tummy turned over. I would not want to disappoint any of them!

Miss Leopard fiddled with the hi-fi and a light waltz filed the
room.

“Off you go girls and not too quickly Sharon. Maids are elegant!”

We all slowed down!

Hands Shelly.

I ensured that my elbows and hands were correctly positioned.

“Debbie dear, more of a wriggle or I will make your bottom wiggle
for you!”

Needless to say I enhanced my wriggling.

I watched the giggling ladies walk out and close the door behind
them. I turned and glanced up at the camera. What choice did I
have? What choice did any of us have? We marched in slow time to
the music performing the desired curtsey at the appropriate
point.

Not a word was said. Not one maid dared to hesitate. Even when
the women were not in the same room as us they held us under
their control.

It was clearly outrageous and not at all what Linda, and I had in
mind when we paid our money for this supposed holiday. I wanted
to dress up as a maid, maybe make a few beds and then be able to
play with myself.

I felt my Willy stiffen in its tight confines at the thought and
another dollop of precum squirted into my tight little knickers
now I felt even more uncomfortable.

When the ladies returned and we were allowed to see our partners
I would make go straight to Linda and tell her to pack her bags.
It would be to humiliating to explain why of course. I would just
tell her not to ask any questions and get packing. By nightfall I
would be miles from this dreadful place, back in my safe warm
home again. The pleasing thought made me smile broadly and it was
only then that I saw Sharon up ahead of me with her ridiculous
pink-lipped pout that I remembered what my lips should be doing.

I pouted immediately hoping that the camera had not picked up on
my small transgression. I clenched my hands in fury at what they
had reduced me to in such a short space of time. It was a good
thing I was leaving soon! Then of course I realised that my hands
should not even be clenched and widened the fingers and
straightened the palms.

Infuriating how they could control my every movement!

I heard the door open. I carefully glanced across at it as it was
pushed open and gasped. I saw the other maids eyes widen in fear.

In the doorway stood two grinning men. They must have been in
their mid twenties, tall and hunky. Like the handsome men you see
in afternoon soaps. As soon as they saw us parading around in a
circle pausing only to curtsey at the appropriate point they
began to laugh.

“What have we got here?” The one who spoke had dark slightly
curly hair and a broad, confident grin. He entered the room
followed by his fair-haired mate who was still chuckling at us.

What should we do? Answer: we continued to wriggle compliantly
around in our circle. Hands properly placed, lips pouting,
bottoms wiggling.

It was just my luck that I was passing the curly one as he
entered the room. “Hello sweetness,” he said to me.

I remained silent and he walked beside me. He was a good deal
taller than me, despite my heels, and felt much stronger than me.
He wore tight jeans and tee shirt that shoed off his lean, fit
physique.

For my part I felt scared to death. Here I was an obedient,
helpless maid, sexily dressed with my boobs on display for him.
In fact the cut of the dress meant that my entire body was on
display to him! Thighs, legs, arms, neck, everything! Whereas he
was in control of himself and his own situation. He could talk as
he pleased, do what ever he pleased, and, if he chose to do so,
he could simply walk out of the room.

He held up my nametag his fingers ‘accidentally’ stroking my
boobs. “Debbie,” he read out, “I like that.”

I stopped to perform the curtsey, mindful that the camera was
still operating and saw that his mate was chatting up the maid
known as Tracy.

“You’re new aren’t you?” He asked.

I did not answer. What could I say? Should I say anything? Was
this a further test from Miss Evans?

He tut-tutted good naturedly as if indulging a small child and
whispered, “You must answer when asked a question Debbie”. He
patted my bottom through my skirt. “You can get into a lot of
trouble here, believe me. But don’t worry,” he said reassuringly,
“Your secret is safe with me.”

Oh God! Please go away.

“Listen, on your first night off why don’t I show you the Hotel
from the guests side? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

I gasped. What was I supposed to say?

Thankfully the door crashed open and the four ladies stormed in.
None of them looked too happy. Particularly Miss Jaguar who made
a beeline for me as I continued my march in time with the waltz.

Miss Evans spoke quickly, “They are still on their first training
assignment lads. Leave them to complete their task.”

“We weren’t stopping them,” the curly one next to me cheekily
replied, with his grin broader than ever. He then turned to me,
“were we Debbie?”

Oh dear, oh dear. What was I supposed to do or say?

Miss Jaguar broke in quickly, walking between the cheeky, curly
headed fellow and me: “You heard Miss Evans. Leave them alone and
go.”

Then, bizarrely, Miss Jaguar actually smiled sweetly at me and
added, “You’re doing really well Debbie. Ignore him.”

The man laughed, “I see who you have your eyes on here. That’s
hardly fair if you are picking them up during training.”

Miss Evans spoke angrily and I was scared that I could be beaten
for something. “Please leave gentlemen. No one is picking up
anyone until training is complete. That goes for you too Miss
Jaguar!”

She spoke very sternly but Miss Jaguar simply winked at me and
whispered, “In a couple of days you’ll be mine!”

The curly man smiled winningly, “Not if I can help it!” before
moving off with his mate. I could hear them both laughing as they
walked down the corridor beyond the door.

I performed the umpteenth curtsey with my heart in my mouth. I
was in total fear of being punished for something that was
outside of my control.

“Right girls,” Miss Evans said, “continue your walking and we
will make sure that the door is locked this time. No more
distractions. ”

With that I watched the ladies leave with Miss Jaguar again
smiling warmly at me.

When the door closed I continued parading around, hands properly
placed and lips pursed as I pondered my predicament.

A man had propositioned me. That had happened! And a woman who
had spent the last few hours terrorising and bullying me felt
that I should be, well, to be blunt, her girlfriend.

The world was going mad. As soon as I was allowed out of this to
see Linda I would escape this mad house. I would tell her to pack
her bags immediately, that we would be leaving straight away!

If I did not get away who knows what the next few days would
bring.

End of Part 1.

 

 

 

The Hotel Part One only

 

 

but you can read the entire tale by following this link and purchasing the Lulu ebook …

Deborah Ford’s The Hotel now on Lulu (click this link)

 

The Hotel will be published on Kindle, Ibooks etc very shortly.

 

7 thoughts on “The Hotel Chapter One

  1. The monospaced font (probably courier) used does not display well on Firefox 3.6.2 or Chrome both on a MAC. Text on the right overlaps the links and the picture on the RH side pf the page

    1. wow! many thanks for the heads up Samantha. Oddly it looks ok in my firefox but that is vers 3.6.3 on a PC. I will be able to check out the problem in a few days time when i intend to add more pix. Thank you again Samantha.

      DF

  2. The Hotel is such a great story. I highly recommend it.

    Deborah, have you thought about doing another series set in The Hotel? We never really got to see the secretaries in action. How about a wealthy businessman who is thinking of investing and is tempted to try out the “service” before he does?

    1. Thank you Jezebel. I like your idea!

      There was a short series where I revisited the hotel for a Christmas special.

      However I must get on with editing my other stories ready for publication before I embark on more tales.

    1. funny you should say that!

      Am about to update the blog site. The Christmas Special called Seasonal Decorations should be available on Kindle, Lulu, Ibooks, etc before the end of the week.

      Hope you enjoy it as much. You do realise the Hotel is available online to buy as a complete 8 chapter novel?

      Hope you enjoy Seasonal Decorations as much as The Hotel.

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