The Hotel Transform Stories

The Office Dupe
Part 5

By Deborah Ford.

It was only when I read the reviews to ‘The Hotel’ that I
realised that many of you were anxious to learn more about poor
Linzi’s plight in the continuing stories of ‘The Office Dupe’.
Be assured that Linzi has an ingenious plan to protect himself
and his lovely wife Deborah from the evil machinations of the
fearsome Mister Davies. Can he free himself from wearing short
skirts, or get out of his chastity belt or prevent the endless
humiliating punishments, let alone save his wife…. Read on.

—–

After my dreadful beating at the hands of Mr Davies I spent the
entire night sleeping on my tummy. The heat from my bottom made
my useless cock even more excited. It remained firm and
uncomfortably tight in its confines. The chastity belt remained
unyielding. As I cried myself to sleep I vowed to let Deborah
know about what a horrible bully he is. In the morning I would
tell my lovely wife Deborah about his awful threat of making
love to her. I could not even think of the foul words he used.
I needed to warn her of his unpleasant plans for her. I know
that she can take care of herself but perhaps he will deceive
her in some way.

But how to reach her? He had spoken of a Penthouse, but we maids
were under close scrutiny at all times.

The entire day was spent cleaning up the hotel after the
shenanigans from the previous evening. I soon gleaned that I was
not the only maid in need of a cushion to enable her to sit
down. Beckie winced, like me, at every movement on a chair, no
matter how well padded. She deserved her beating though!

I was still humiliatingly attired as French Maid which made me
even more cross. In fact I decided to confront Miss Morgan and
officially complain.

So during our mid morning break I knocked on her door, quite
hard, I wanted her to know just how I felt.

Unfortunately she said, “come in,” in such an impatient manner
that my courage deserted me. I thought about fleeing back to the
canteen with the rest of the girls. But I knew that if I did not
face up to her now then I never would.

It reminded me of the time I faced up to my lovely wife Deborah
at home. One day she had left me a long list of tasks before
setting off for work. She wagged a finger in my direction: ‘make
sure your chores are completed satisfactorily by the time I get
home or else it will be an early night for you!’

Now Deborah can be very frightening when she is in that sort of
mood so you can see how brave I was by not even starting any of
the tasks. After all, she had wanted the weeks wash completed
and ironed on the same day as I was supposed to raise the hem of
a dress, (apparently her boss and now mine, the dreadful Mister
Davies, thought it should be shorter). When you added that to
the usual Friday duties of making the bed and cleaning the
bathroom and toilets you can see how unfair the work load was.

So I decided to make a stand. I spent a very pleasant day on the
sofa watching day time television and eating a box of chocolates
that Deborah had bought me as a present for being so good the
previous weekend.

She usually got home at about five, unless she was working late
when she might not get home until the early hours. So by about
four in the afternoon I began to get a bit worried. I was still
determined to tell her how I felt but perhaps I ought to at
least start the housework. That was when I got into a panic.
Where to start? I had not even made the beds. Perhaps I should
start there first, or maybe I ought to put the washing in the
washing machine. But then there was the bathroom and the
toilets. I remember I felt quite dizzy with the turmoil of
deciding where to start. If only Deborah had been home. She
would have been able to make the decision. She is very good like
that.

So before I knew it the door bangs open and Deborah is standing
there in the doorway with a face like thunder.

“Take my coat you wimp,” she stormed at me. She can be a little
impolite when she is really angry.

I dashed to her and helped slide her coat from her shoulders.

She was really lived. “Bastards have cancelled the orders for
next week! Can you believe it!”

She strode across to the sofa and slumped on it dropping her
high heels onto the coffee table next to the remains of the
chocolates. “A drink! A drink! I need a drink, Can’t you see!”

“Oh yes, sorry Deborah,” I muttered, closing the door and
hanging up her coat in one motion.

“I only rang them yesterday and it was all still on!” She
ranted. “where is that damn drink you lazy, inadequate, excuse
for a husband!”

“Coming Deborah dear,” my hand shook as I poured her, her
favourite white wine, nicely chilled. I put the glass on a
silver tray and rushed to her side. She likes her drinks served
on a tray.

“I’m going to have to get out and see them tonight,” she
declared to no one in particular as she took my drink and
quaffed it down.

“That’s better,” she said with a smile.

I felt myself relax. She was dreadful when she was in a mood.
Quite terrifying.

She opened her adorable blue eyes and looked up at me. It was
then that she saw the chocolate wrappers on the table.

“I really expect this rubbish to be cleared up before I get
home!” she said icily.

“Yes Deborah dear,” I said quickly pushing the wrappers onto the
tray.

She sat up suspiciously, her long legs dropping to the floor as
she looked about her.

“Is this supposed to be tidy?” She demanded, waving a hand
around the room.

“Uhm no….” I mumbled feeling my cheeks redden.

Her eyes narrowed. “Has it been vacuumed?”

“Well… you see ….”

“I asked you a question,” she spat.

“Well yes,” I said timidly, “but not actually today.”

I wished I had lied. But there again lying to Deborah is never
a wise move. She always knows when I stray from the truth and
then my punishment can be really painful.

“Cleaning the house is a daily duty,” she pointed out.

“Yes Deborah dear but…”

“But? What do you mean ‘but’? What good are ‘buts’ to me? After
a hard days work I do not expect to come home to a pig sty!”

“It’s hardly a pig sty!” I said petulantly wishing I could be
anywhere other than here.

She rose to her feet put her hands down the front of my pants
and grabbed my willy.

“Ooo,” I dropped the tray to the floor. “Please Deborah.”

“Why has it not been done!” She demanded.

I had to explain to her what the problem was. “Please Deborah
you left me with too much work to do today and I did not know
where to start,” There I had said it. Now she would understand.

“What?” She gritted her teeth. Obviously she did not understand.

I felt her hand tighten around my genitals. “Please Deborah. You
wanted the washing done and ironed, and your dress altered and
….”

“Are you saying I work you too hard?”

“Oh no, no…..”

“You have done your chores havn’t you?”

My fearful silence spoke volumes.

“How much have you actually done?”

“Well..er…uhm…..” why had I not completed all the chores and
then explained to Deborah that she had given me too much work!

“Strip!” She commanded me in a quiet, menacing tone.

She released my genitals and I hurriedly undressed. “You see
Deborah I had so much I did not know where to start.” I removed
my shirt and my trousers and socks, leaving me in the little
white knickers.

“You could have rung me couldn’t you?”

“Oh yes. Good idea,” I agreed. Oh why didn’t I call her?

“Leave your knickers on and run and fetch me the hair brush.”

Oh no. “Yes Deborah dear, but please, I can make a start …”

“Quickly wimp!”

The hair brush she wanted was the one with the hard bristles and
a long porcelain handle. I knew it well. I raced upstairs to get
it and hurried back to her.

“Get on the dinning room table on all fours.”

Oh no! “Yes Deborah, but please may I be allowed…”

“Shift that idle arse of yours!”

“Yes Deborah dear.”

I used one of the dinning room chairs to help me climb on to our
splendid dinning room table. I had served as many as eight
guests around it some evenings.

“On all fours!”

I manoeuvred myself into position, my bottom feeling exposed and
vulnerable. I started sniffling.

“I do not expect to come home from work and find that nothing
has been done!”

“No Deborah, sorry Deborah. It won’t happen again.”

She laughed like a maniac. “No it will certainly not!”

She then gave me the hardest spanking she had ever dished out.
I yowled and cried like a baby but she continued methodically.
Only when I was employed by the dreadful Mister Davies was I to
encounter greater pain.

At that moment on all fours every searing slap echoed through my
being. I was convinced no one could take a greater beating than
this.

When she had finished my face was buried in my arms on the table
as I blubbered; my bottom remained exposed in the air.

“Right,” she declared breathlessly, “don’t ever let me have to
do this to you again!”

“No Deborah,” I cried, relieved that the punishment was over.

She stroked my cheek softly like I was a pet, “now serve up
dinner like a good little boy and we can forget it all.”

Dinner! I stopped crying and sat up on my knees looking at my
now smiling wife.

“After dinner perhaps I will give you a special treat. I will
masturbate you.”

I rubbed the tears with my hand and felt terrified. “Uhm well,”
I stammered, “the problem is….”

Her eyes narrowed and her lips spread back across her teeth,
“you haven’t burnt it again have you?”

“Oh no,” I tried a smile, I would never let a dinner burn after
what she did to me last time. “I just haven’t had a chance to
start it yet.”

The temperature of the room fell by 20 degrees. I shivered in
the icy fear.

The slap across my face sprawled me across the table.

She was furious. Totally out of control.

“Right!”

She raced upstairs while I waited whimpering on the table top.

She returned with a number of belts and ties.

“Cross your ankles,” she commanded as she threw the items about
me.

As soon as I had done so she started binding them tightly
together. I winced at the pain as she hauled the ties as tight
as she could around my ankles make it before cinching it off
into a knot.

“Hands behind your back! Palms facing away!”

I did as I was told and she set about my wrists securing them
with determined vigour.

“I will teach you, you little wimp!”

“Yes Deborah. Ouch.” The knot had pinched my skin.

She then used one of the belts to fix my thighs together and
another to secure my elbows as tightly as she could.

“There! And don’t think that I have finished with you yet!”

“No Deborah,” I sobbed. My finger tips could just touch my
pantie clad bottom but with the palms turned face out they were
ineffective at rubbing it.

Deborah picked up her mobile and banged out a few numbers.
“Hello? Yes its me. I’ve changed my mind. Dinner sounds
wonderful.” She looked across at me thoughtfully, “no it will
have to be your place tonight. Great. See you then.”

She put the phone down and disappeared upstairs leaving me held
helplessly down on the table with my sore bottom.

I heard the shower and some cupboards opened and closed before
she reappeared at the bottom of the stairs. She was wearing a
really sexy black and red basque that made her figure look
stunning. I felt my member respond as soon as she appeared. Her
boobs pillowed out of the top. The matching knickers, gorgeous
stockings and red  heels completed her ensemble.

She often wore scanty underwear for meals out. It was to keep
her cool she explained. She held up a black dress and a red
dress, shaking the black one at me.

“Have you sorted the hem line on this?”

Oh dear. Trussed up like this I felt even more scarred of her
than usual. She was really capable of doing anything. “Please
Deborah, I am sorry. I can do it now.”

“I’ll have to wear this!” She dropped the black dress and
stepped into the very short tight red dress.

When she zipped it up I felt like I was going to shoot my load.
She was quite simply totally stunning.

“Right, now for you.” She pulled the chairs away from the table,
pushing them tight up against the wall before approaching me
with the black dress.

She lifted up my bound legs and passed the dress up it. She
raised my body so that she could pull the entire dress up to my
neck. Then she zipped it tightly shut. My bound arms were
trapped within the dress.

I felt very foolish and gazed up at her as she approached me
with a large hand flannel and a scarf.

She folded the flannel and pushed it up against my eyes before
pulling the scarf tightly around that and binding it around my
head. I was totally blind. Completely helpless.

“Please Deborah,” I stammered. I really did not like this. I am
a little afraid of the dark as it is.

“Shut up and listen.” She decreed. “I am going out for a nice
meal with a friend. Maybe I will bring him home. Maybe I will
bring home a lot of friends. I do not want them to see your
wretched spanked, panty clad arse on my table wearing my dress!”

“No Deborah dear.”

“You have about two hours to get your wimp self upstairs into
bed.”

“Yes Deborah dear.”

“And by bed I mean the spare bedroom.”

“Yes Deborah.”

“Idle wimp,” she spat as I heard her high heeled footsteps head
for the front door which opened and slammed shut.

I heard the car ignition turn over and with a squeal of tyres I
could picture her disappearing down the road.

Phew. I sighed with relief. She had gone. My punishment was
over.

I tried to pull myself back up onto my knees but with every limb
held so tautly, it was impossible. The dress trapped my legs as
much as the bondage. I could not get any leverage. I pulled my
legs out beneath me and was able to roll so that I was now sat
up, on my knickers and could slide my bottom to the edge of the
table. My legs hung over it.

Oh my God! What if the curtains were still open and the light
was on? Everyone in the street could see me.

As my legs dangled I thought about how to get down. I am not the
bravest of individuals and the leap down filled me with dread.
Oh dear, why had I not been better behaved. Sitting there in my
prison of darkness, restraints and the black dress, on my so,
sore bottom I vowed never to disappoint her ever again.

I do not know how long it took me to get from the table up to
the spare bedroom. I am sure I spent an hour just downstairs
searching sightlessly for the stairs.

Time passed in it’s own world.

When I reached the spare bedroom I had to stand up straight to
reach the door handle. I dreaded Deborah’s friends finding me
like this.

At last I finally collapsed onto my bed, unable to pull the
quilt over me of course, I lay there sobbing like a punished
child.

Actually Deborah did not return until early the next morning and
I am pleased to say that her anger had dissipated. She even
looked very pleased with herself. I was grateful to be allowed
to complete all my chores on that day even and was only punished
by being sent to bed early.

That digression has hopefully shown you how brave I can be when
necessary at standing up to bullies. But now stood in my maid’s
outfit outside of Miss Morgan’s office my courage drained away
like water down the sink.

But it was now or never.

I entered and curtsied.

Thankfully she seemed pleased to see me.

“Oh Debbie, how are you getting on?”

“Fine thank you Miss Morgan,” I bobbed feeling Mr Davies’
humiliating instructions tickle my thighs. He had me write them
on a card and then tied them to my chastity belt. It read that
I was not to be opened until Christmas. The bastard. What he did
not realise, and probably did not even care about, was that when
ever I walked it tickled my thighs so I was constantly reminded
of its presence. Worse I was constantly reminded of the actual
instruction.

“So what can I do for you?”

I closed the door and moved closer to her on my heels. “Please
Miss Morgan I do not think that I should have to wear this silly
maids uniform.”

Her face darkened and I gulped. “Oh is that right Linzi?”

“No Miss Morgan.”

She rose from her desk in thought, “and should I tell Mr Davies
about your complaint?”

“Oh no. Please Miss Morgan. No.” What an awful idea. My bottom
winced at the mere thought of him hearing about me complaining.

She was now standing next to me and touched my bare smooth arm.
Her touch made me tingle.

She sniffed next to my ear, “mmm you smell nice.”

“Its Katie’s Miss Morgan, she lent me some this morning,”
actually she had sprayed it over me when I was sulking about
having to wear the corset and stockings.

“That was sweet of her.” She kissed my neck lightly and then my
ear. I felt my head swirl with pleasure and even moaned.

“You like that little darling?”

“Oh yes,” I admitted hoarsely. Part of me was fearful of what
would happen if Deborah caught me like this but most of me was
quite over come with her attention.

She nibbled my ear and I closed my eyes.

“Such perfect little ears,” she continued whispering to me. My
legs were weakening.

“Oh, thank you…”

She stroked her hand up my stocking clad thigh until she could
feel the suspender. “And such wonderful legs. The best legs of
any of Mr Davies’s employees.”

I was in dreamland.

“You like showing off your legs to me don’t you little Linzi,”
she purred.

“Oh yes Miss Morgan,” I said breathlessly.

“And they look sooo good in high heels don’t they Linzi?”

“Yes Miss Morgan.”  That was true.

“It would be a shame to hide them from me by wearing trousers
wouldn’t it?”

“Yes Miss Morgan,” I would not want to do that. My knees were
close to giving out.

“And such a pretty short dress. Such a nice smooth, sexy dress,
on a nice smooth, sexy girl.”

“Oooooh,” was all I could manage.

I felt her lips on my neck and a charge coursed through me. Her
hand touched my groin and my imprisoned dick responded as best
it could.

“Little Linzi likes her dress and stockings doesn’t she?”

“Yes Miss Morgan.”

I heard her giggle and I felt myself smile.

“Little Linzi needs to wear high heels to make her legs look
good.”

I nodded, totally out of it.

Her other hand caressed my bottom through my knickers whilst her
first hand rubbed my groin. “You had better remain dressed like
this hadn’t you.”

Oh yes, I thought my head swimming.

“Ask me to keep you dressed like this Linzi,” she cooed.

“Oh please let me wear this maid’s outfit with the stockings and
heels,” I tried to say. I don’t know whether I managed to say it
but I think I did.

She rubbed her nails along my steel chastity belt. “And the
sooner I get the key for this the better isn’t it Linzi?”

I turned and collapsed in to her arms. “Yes Miss Morgan,” my
mouth opened and she kissed me passionately.

I felt her hands on my shoulders forcing me down to my nylon
clad knees. She hauled up her tight leather skirt and pulled
down her knickers stepping out of them. With her legs apart she
put her hand at the back of head and forced it against her
pussy. I heard her voice from a million miles away. “Show me how
grateful you are Linzi.”

My tongue set to work on her pussy, licking at the clitoris as
Deborah had instructed me over the years.

I licked as hard as I could, as if the mere act of pleasuring
her could give me some release.

She juiced around my busy mouth, her elixir running down my
chin. I could feel her throbbing sex and suddenly in a huge wail
she came.

And she came,

And she came.

I thought she was never going to stop.

Finally she collapsed into a chair, her cheeks flushed and the
front of her dark hair plastered with sweat.

“Oh, oh,” she said to herself.

I watched her, still on my knees. I was desperate to come
myself. I looked up at her earnestly. “Please Miss Morgan?”

She sat up as if suddenly realising where she was. She pushed
her leather skirt down her legs and ran her fingers through her
hair.

“You are a horny little slut aren’t you?” she said, exhaling
heavily.

“Erm. Miss Morgan?”

She lifted her knickers off the carpet and put them into her
handbag on the desk. “Yes Linzi?”

“Please may I come?” I was looking up at her with tears in my
eyes.

“Oh Poor Linzi. Stand up girl. What would anyone think if they
came through the door right now?”

I stood up shakily. And it was not just the heels that made me
shake. I tried to look at her as pitifully as possible.

“I am afraid that your errant behaviour with our clients has
made that impossible right now. I am sure that with good work
and quiet obedience Mister Davies will eventually allow you some
pleasure.” She smiled indulgently at me.

“But Miss Morgan!” I stamped my foot.

“Now, now girl don’t get me angry!” She admonished me.

I pouted to show her how cross I was with her. “What about my
silly maid’s dress!”

She sat behind her desk, suddenly composed, even though we both
knew that her knickers were in her handbag. “You asked me,
rather sweetly as I recall, to be allowed to wear your nice
outfit and I have agreed to your request.”

But that was cheating. She knew I would have said anything,
agreed to anything, when I was in that state of arousal.

“So if there is nothing more you are dismissed. I gather the
chef needs help washing dishes.”

What a bitch. I felt the sticky wetness of precum between my
legs. It clung uncomfortably to my tight black panties.

“Yes Miss Morgan,” I curtseyed, deliberately not dropping down
as far as I should and then left.

Monday

Today we were taken back to the office. So it was back to that
absurd outfit with the short kilt, socks and blouse. This time
of course I needed a white bra for my boobs which remained fixed
to my chest even after a hot shower. I hoped that they knew of
the solution to break away the glue.

During the bus ride over, whilst the other girls chattered
inanely, I concentrated my mind on a plan. I needed to speak
alone to Deborah or Miss Ford as I now had to call her. I was
convinced that if I asked for permission to see her Miss Morgan
would be suspicious and either prevent the meeting or else tell
Mister Davies.

The thought of Mister Davies frightened the wits out of me.
Deborah could be cruel to me, but at least she punished me for
my own good.

Often I was made to stand in the corner if my chores were not up
to standard which is a good reminder to get the chores right in
the first place. When I had my nose pressed to the corner I
would be sure to be doubly determined not to repeat the error.
Indeed as the years passed so Deborah grew to praising me more
and more as my skills around the house improved. “You see,” she
would say pleasantly, “you are not totally useless.” How that
was music to my ears.

Thoughts of how she had refined my skills made me even more
determined to reach her and warn her about that horrible Mister
Davies.

The plan came to me all at once. I was beaming when I left the
mini bus and headed up the steps to the office.

Vanessa was in charge of the coffee and it gave me a moment at
the front of the office with Miss Morgan.

“Miss Morgan?” I bobbed.

“Mondays are very busy Linzi please don’t waste my time,” she
said curtly.

“Oh no I would not do that,” I said pretending not to be upset
at her put down.

“Then go and answer the phones.”

They weren’t even ringing yet! It was still only eight o’clock.
“Please Miss Morgan I was wondering….”

She banged her pen down so hard that I heard the girls behind me
suck in a deep breath and hurry to their desks. Oh dear. But I
could not back down now.

“I think that perhaps Miss Ford should have her own secretary.
After all she is very busy. And at the moment all her office
work comes out to us. But if just one girl was looking over it
then obviously…”

“Stop prattling on like a school girl.” Miss Morgan sat back in
her chair and thought through the notion. “Go and sit down and
try not to waste Mister Davies’ time by thinking on it.”

Humph! “Yes Miss Morgan,” I curtseyed and feeling my cheeks burn
with indignation returned to my desk. I could hear Julie
sniggering behind me. Little tart!

It was near ten o’clock when Mister Davies and Deborah arrived.
I had an awful feeling that he had already tried to sleep with
my wife. However I could see from the way that she beamed with
happiness that he had not pressed his advances yet. Deborah
would be furious with him when he did make clear his intentions.
I would never dare ask Deborah to be allowed to make love to
her. I knew that she let me know if I was in line for any sort
of reward.

Sometimes, when I had been very good,  she would masturbate me
herself.

Though, looking back over our married life, I had only made love
to her once.

That was on our honeymoon in a Hotel in an upmarket resort. She
must have enjoyed it because she thought it was so funny. She
was so happy that she suggested I sleep and rest while she went
downstairs to the disco for a drink and some relaxation. Sadly
though she got lost and had to spend the night in someone else’s
room. We met up at breakfast and we had a good laugh about that.

So Deborah’s smiling face told me everything was still all
right.

After we had said our good mornings to Mister Davies and Miss
Ford, he disappeared into his own office and Miss Ford, I mean
Deborah, stood next to Miss Morgan’s desk.

“Any post Miss Morgan?” She asked.

“Not yet Miss Ford, I’ll have one of the girls bring it to you
when it comes. Oh by the way. I had an idea this morning. Why
don’t we make one of the girls your secretary?”

“I certainly like the idea of having a girl to myself,” Deborah
mused. “A splendid idea Miss Morgan.”

You can imagine how I felt. What a horrible witch Miss Morgan
was. And she had been so nice to me the previous day when I
brought her off by licking her.

“Perhaps Mister Davies should have his own girl as well,”
Deborah added.

Miss Morgan did not seem to like this idea. “I fear I would be
short staffed to lose two girls.”

“Nonsense. If we each had our own girl then your girls would do
less work.”

Miss Morgan had her nose out of joint. Well done Deborah.

Deborah looked around the room and I sat bolt upright, breasts
pushing out so that she could not fail to miss me.

Miss Morgan rose and announced, “we are looking for girls to
move up and become personal secretaries. Who would like to have
a go?”

Suddenly there was a wash of white sleeved arms shooting up.
Realising what had happened I quickly put up mine.

Deborah beamed, “what enthusiastic girls we have here Miss
Morgan.”

Miss Morgan was pleased with the compliment.

Deborah looked about the room and I put up my hand even higher.
Deborah’s blue eyes at last settled on me. She smiled sweetly.
“I think Linzi Miss Morgan.”

Miss Morgan was aghast. “But she is barely trained. She would be
nothing but trouble.”

My cheeks flushed. What a cow Miss Morgan was!

Deborah laughed good-naturedly. “I am sure that she will soon
learn the ropes being the secretary to Mister Davies.”

Mister Davies!!!!! Yipes!!

“And I think Beckie for mine please.”

With that Deborah disappeared into mister Davies’ office, no
doubt to tell him the ‘good news’. It was a moment before I
realised that all the girls had returned to heir work and I
still had my arm up. I pulled it down.

Oh God. Mister Davies’ personal secretary. What had I gotten
myself into! I felt like crying. Deborah had unwittingly
worsened her own situation.

Moments later Mr Davies stood scowling at his office door next
to my wonderful wife. “Oy!” he shouted brutally in my direction.

I stood and curtseyed. “Yes Mister Davies?”

“Get your fat arse in here. I have some work for you.”

Fat arse! It was not fat! “Yes Mister Davies,” I bobbed, mincing
as quickly as I could in to his office.

The door slammed shut behind me making me jump.

Sit there and take notes.”

“Yes Mister Davies,” I sat down, legs together trying to hide
the degrading label he had tied to my chastity belt.

He handed me a spiral bound note book and a pencil.

“Don’t get anything wrong!” He barked.

I sat up straight. He was so horrible. “Yes Mister Davies.”

“Right. Dear Deborah, thank you for your monthly sales report.
I note your advice on having the office girls get disciplined by
yourself as well as Miss Morgan and me. I feel we can discuss it
at a board meeting this evening at eight o’clock. Yours Mister
Davies.”

I wrote my squiggles as fast as I could.

“Type it up and get it over to Miss Ford’s office immediately!”

I stood up bobbing writing. “Yes Mister Davies.”

I was out of his office in the blink of an eye. I had no
intention of staying in there with that dreadful brute. I
returned to my desk and began typing out his memo to my wife.

It seemed a good idea of Deborah’s to have her involved in the
discipline. I would far rather have her punish me than the
terrible Mister Davies.

I printed it out and dashed to Miss Ford’s I mean Deborah, my
wife’s office. I knocked and waited.

“Enter.”

I went in through the door. Deborah was on her computer with a
calculator beside her. I closed the door quietly. I knew better
than to interrupt her when she was concentrating so I remained
totally quiet and still before her.

She looked up absent mindedly.

“Oh hello Linzi. Yes?”

“Memo from Mister Davies.”

“Be a good girl and put it in to the in-tray please,” she said
staring at her screen.

I did so and waited. This was my chance.

“Thank you Linzi, you may go,” she said tapping out a few keys.

“Yes Miss Ford, thank you Miss Ford.” I had to tell her all
about Mister Davies’ devilish schemes.

“Uhm, permission to speak,” I ventured.

“Not right now darling. Try Miss Morgan. I am frightfully busy
here,” she said returning to her calculator.

“Please Deborah its urgent!” I said desperately.

She sat back in her chair eyeing me menacingly. “I beg your
pardon?”

“Oh Miss Ford. Please you must listen to me. You are in danger!”
I squealed earnestly.

She smiled patronizingly at me. “Oh? From not being allowed to
get on with my work?”

“No Miss Ford, please Miss Ford you must listen,” I cried.

“Must I? And what would Mister Davies say if he knew you had
used the Christian name of a manager?”

I felt my knees wobble. It was a matter I did not wish to
deliberate. “Oh please listen Miss Ford. He is out to….to…”

“Yes?” She raised an eyebrow and smiled indulgently.

“To seduce you,” I finally got it out.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “And?”

Oh! “Well, I er, thought, I er….well…”

Linzi my dear have you really so little with which to engage
your little mind that you have to indulge in office gossip?”

“Please Miss Ford you must listen. And he’s locked me,” I closed
my eyes, “please miss Ford he’s locked me away until Christmas.”

I am afraid to say at that point that I started to cry. Deborah
being so kind and considerate beckoned me over and had me sit on
her knee.

She cuddled me comfortingly. “There, there, Linzi. Naughty
office staff need to be reprimanded don’t they?”

“But please Miss Ford,” I bawled, “I don’t want to be an office
girl. I want to be home with you.”

She laughed softly as if I were a child, “of course my dear,
dear Linzi. Here dry your eyes.”

I took a handkerchief from her and dabbed my eyes. “Please Miss
Ford I want to go home.”

She kissed me and I felt the familiar arousal and the now
familiar harsh restraint.

“Well I don’t know about that dear. You must work here for four
weeks notice. Isn’t that what you agreed with Mister Davies?”

I nodded sadly. “But I was tricked Miss Ford.”

“Of course you were Linzi dear. But a contract is a contract.
You would not want to have to stand up in court and wear the
office uniform which is what his lawyers would have you do.”

“Oh no!”

She stroked my cheek. So knuckle down, work hard and, who knows,
perhaps he will let you out for a minute. After all a minute is
about how long you usually need isn’t it?”

I cuddled up to her. “Please I want to go home.”

“Well there is a problem there, I’m afraid,” she said softly.

“Oh?”

“Well it would be up to Mister Davies. After all he employs
you.”

I nodded sadly. Why had I signed his contract. Deborah always
looks over anything we sign.

“Do you want me to ask him?” Deborah whispered.

“Would you?”

She kissed me and nodded. “Only one thing though. Let me see
what he’s written on your chastity belt.”

I leaned back and pulled up my short kilt revealing the tight
white knickers and the short piece of card with the hideous
words written on it. “NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL CHRISTMAS.”

Deborah laughed, putting her hand over her mouth. “Oh dear me,
you must have been naughty.”

“It’s not funny,” I pouted.

She held the card between her thumb and forefinger and read it
reflectively. “No? Are you sure?”

“I know you are teasing me Deborah and I ask…”

“Deborah! Deborah!” She bounced me off her lap with irritation.
“Go and ask Miss Morgan to paddle your bottom twenty times. You
insolent girl!”

I looked up at her, sat on my sore bottom, kilt flapping.
“Please Miss Ford I’ll never call you,  er, your  Christian name
again. I promise.”

She stood up showing off her wonderful legs in their heels.
“Silly girl. Go now and when Miss Morgan has finished with you,
report straight to Mister Davies’ office!”

With that she stormed out and I shook my fists in anger at my
foolishness.

Because I had been so stupid she still did not understand the
danger she was in, and I was in deep shit.

I crept out of the office and all the girls in the office looked
up at me. They must have heard the commotion. Miss Morgan
turned, tight lipped, to face me.

Oh please ground open up and swallow me.

Miss Morgan raised an eyebrow.

“Please Miss Morgan,” I whispered, “please will you paddle me
twenty times?”

“I cannot hear you miss,” she barked.

Now the attention of the office was fully on me.

“I closed my eyes, swallowed and in a clear voice repeated my
request, “please Miss Morgan will you paddle my bottom twenty
times.”

I heard some giggling from some of the girls.

“Quiet!” Barked Miss Morgan making me jump.

She opened her drawer and pulled out a paddle. She pushed her
chair back from her desk, indicating her lap.

I felt so helpless. I lay down over her leather skirt my bottom
raised high, my forehead and toes near the floor.

I felt my little kilt being pulled back. Oh the indignity.

“I think twenty from Miss Ford along with a further ten from me
for being so wilful and embarrassing to me!”

Her embarrassed!

Swat.

The paddle was different to the cane or hand. Rather than a
single line of heat or a broad dull pain the paddle stings the
entire cheek it is struck across.

Swat.

I kicked my legs involuntarily as she reigned the blows down
onto my bottom in front of the entire office.

After twenty I was begging for mercy promising that I would
never be naughty again.

At thirty I was shaking with tears and blubbering.

Miss Morgan pulled down my kilt and helped me off her lap.

“Back to your desk now you naughty little girl.”

“Please Miss,” I sobbed, “Miss Ford told me to see Mister Davies
when you had finished.”

“Well get to it girl!”

I bustled up to his office door. My bottom under the tiny kilt
was on fire. I knocked his door and heard his gruff, fierce
voice. “Enter.”

In his office Miss Ford, I had better get used to calling her
that, was sat on a sofa near a small coffee table. She smiled
brightly at me. I tried bravely to return the smile but my
burning cheeks undermined any attempt.

Mr. Davies rose from behind his desk reminding me yet again of
just how big he was. He walked passed me and sat on the sofa
next to my wife, the woman he intended to seduce.

“Thank you for coming Linzi,” Deborah smiled at me. “Mister
Davies has an idea that may answer all of our needs.”

I looked on in horror as Deborah squeezed Mister Davies’ hand.
What was she doing?

Deborah continued. “Mister Davies feels that you should continue
to be his employee and fulfil your contract…”

I was downcast.

“…but….”

I looked up hopefully.

“But perhaps you could work for us from home.”

I grinned from ear to ear and wiped away my tears. “Yes Miss
Ford, thank you Miss Ford. Thank you Mister Davies,” I bobbed
enthusiastically.

“All you will have to do is work for him and for me. Do his
office work and my house work.”

Great. “Yes Miss Ford, thank you Miss Ford.”

“Of course whilst you are working you should continue to wear
your uniform,” she added.

Oh?

“We thought that the maids outfit you wore at the Hotel suited
you best.”

Why did everyone like me in that! “Yes Miss Ford,” I bobbed
uncertainly.

“That way we will have you in our employ.” She pointed out.

“Yes Miss Ford,” I bobbed. If that was what it would take to get
me out of this trap I would agree to it immediately.

“So are you happy with that arrangement?” she asked me breezily.

“Yes Miss Ford,” I curtseyed as fully as I could to show how
pleased I was at getting away from here.

“Good, just sign here,” she said pushing some legal looking
papers towards me.

I was horrified. Last time I signed anything it got me into this
position. Standing in a tiny kilt, looking like a girl before
the man who was out seduce my wife. Worse he held the key to my
chastity belt.

She saw my concern. “Please don’t be alarmed Linzi dear. It just
reflects your change in duties.”

That made sense. I had better sign quickly before Mister Davies
changes his mind.

I picked up a pen and signed my name: Lyndsay Hawkins to a
string of papers.

“Well done. Mister Davies will take you home straight away so
that you can prepare the house for us.”

“Mister Davies takes me home Miss Ford?”

“Of course he will now need to stay with us to ensure you fulfil
your side of the contract.” She squeezed his hand again, “Mister
Davies is a stickler for obedience. From both of us.”

“Oh.”

“And of course you will want him to be at home to release you
from your,” she giggled at this, “chastity belt when you are
good.”

That made sense.

“So I suggest that you sleep in the guest room, which can double
as your office and we will work out where Mister Davies sleeps
tonight.”

She smiled and my heart sank as I saw an evil glint in Mister
Davies’s eyes as he put an arm around my wife’s shoulders.

Deborah lifted up her high heeled foot and flipped the card
hanging between my legs. “I am sure that if you are extra
special good Christmas may come more than once a year.”

They both laughed at that, though I could not see what was
funny. I had got what I wanted but I still felt used and an air
head. Yet I could not see why.

“Dismissed,” Deborah said gayly. “Mister Davies and I have a few
matters to address regarding this relationship.”

“Yes Miss ford, thank you Miss Ford. Thank you Mister Davies,”
I curtseyed and left the room to wait for Mister Davies to take
me home.

After all that was what I wanted.

Wasn’t it?

End.

Deborah Ford.

05/02/01

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