The Hotel Transform Stories

At Your Service

By Deborah Ford

Part One

1.

I know every one envies me. “Wow Leslie you have it made,” they
tell me. Particularly the men. “A gorgeous wife who is a
successful advertising executive.’ They envy the fact that I
stay at home, I mean what is the point of me working forty hours
a week to earn only a tenth of what Helen brings home. And that
is before her multiple bonuses. I notice that most women are not
so much envious as a contemptuous of my ‘house husband’
position. But I don’t care about that. What worries me is the
fact that Helen has a voracious appetite for sex. She expects me
to pleasure her every morning and at least once a night.

If you saw her with her long legs and curvy figure, her cute
school girl face and black hair you would say, hey what’s the
problem? But expecting to perform all the time takes it out of
you.

Which brings me to my anxiety. What does my horny wife get up to
in office hours – or out of office hours? Executives like she
can work very late. How do I know she isn’t getting seconds with
some other man?

Exactly. I don’t. Until I had the chance to find out.

2.

We were at one of her business parties and as usual Helen was
swarming around with the other big shots and I was left with the
wives. I don’t mind chatting about cooking and learning new tips
for cleaning but I do get bored with all the talk about the
latest fashions. I mean, honestly, who is interested in where a
hemline should be this season – unless the girl has lovely legs!
That was when I met Veronica.

Now Veronica is a little intimidating. Not so much because she
has a permanent sneer and a ready line in caustic put downs but
because she is six foot tall in the spiky heels she always
wears. I am only 5′ 4″ and for some reason she thinks this is
incredibly amusing. She entertains the other wives by patting me
on the head and teasing me. They think it is hilarious.

“Do you make souffl‚s little Lesley?” She would ask. I would
ignore the ‘little’ reference and the titters from the other
ladies.

“Of course,” I would say proudly.

“And do you wear an apron?”

“Only when I’m wearing a nice shirt,” I replied, wasn’t that
obvious?

Veronica found this entertaining for some reason and I became
the butt of her one liners from that moment on. It was like the
school bully homing on you simply because you are small. I was
desperate for Helen to come and rescue me but she was surrounded
by her colleagues.

One of the wives was jabbering on about the lingerie her husband
buys her if she has pleased him. Of course Veronica was down on
me in seconds, “oh Lesley tell us what lingerie Helen buys you
when you have been good.”

That was it. I turned my back on their laughter and went out
onto the cool balcony overlooking the city. The night air felt
good on my stingingly hot cheeks.

My only company was a small insect stuck on a spider’s web. I
felt sorry for it. The web was strewn across the decorative
plants. Stupidly every time the insect got free it moved further
in towards the centre of the web. I was about to pluck it to
safety and save it from itself when I felt a hand on my
shoulder. It was Veronica. She held out a glass of wine. “I’m
sorry Lesley. I guess I went too far.”

“You did!” I insisted hoping for a more grovelling apology.

“Let’s be friends.” She clinked my glass and smiled down at me.

I smiled back and soon we were chatting away like old friends.
Veronica was in charge of personnel at the offices and enjoyed
her power. She admitted that sometimes she didn’t know when to
stop. I forgave her, quite taken by her sharing her worries
about her bullying with me. I quickly found myself revealing my
worst fear about Helen.

“How do I know”, I asked hoping that she would be able to
provide me with an answer, “that Helen does not cheat on me?”

She looked back at my glamorous wife laughing with the men and
nodded. “She is certainly surrounded by temptation. Those
successful well paid hunks would turn the head of many women.”

“Thanks!” I said ironically. “I was hoping you would put my mind
at rest.”

She called across to one of the tallest men, “Hey George come
over here. We have a problem.”

My stomach turned over. I tried to tell her not to share my
concerns with anyone but it was too late. George was with us in
a second. He gave Veronica a kiss as she said:

“Lesley here is Helen’s wife and he is a very suspicious
husband.”

George grinned down at me and I felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“Its not really a problem …” I began.

George cut across me, “yeh, I would be worried to if my
Veronica, she’s my wife by the way, was alone in the office with
those wolves. Thankfully we work together so I can keep an eye
on her.”

Veronica grinned, “and I an eye on you.”

George prodded me with a finger almost knocking me over, “say
why not get a job there. Then you could see what she gets up
to.”

Veronica laughed at me. “Poor little Lesley’s skills only run to
making souffl‚s and doing the ironing.’

George laughed at me and I blushed. She was going back to her
horrible self.

“Say,” George said, “we use shit loads of temp girls upstairs.
Why not have boys,” he looked at me and caught himself, “I mean
men doing that?”

Veronica sniggered, “men! As if men would type and answer phones
with a silly smile on their faces.”

“Just an idea,” George mused.

Veronica eyed me up and down, “on the other hand I could do with
a boy to fetch my coffee.” Then she laughed and buried her head
in to her husband’s shoulder.

I tried to ignore her bullying. “If I were present with her then
obviously she wouldn’t misbehave. It is like Schrodinger’s cat.
The observer affects the experiment….”

Veronica laughed, “isn’t he a dear. Can stop a conversation from
forty yards! Tell us about your ironing.”

I was fuming. I looked up at her and narrowed my eyes but she
was passionately kissing George. It was as if she was getting
hot from tormenting me.

I shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind the work,” I said, “I don’t see
this great male female divide in the work place.”

“A house husband wouldn’t,” Veronica giggled before patting me
on the head. “Oh don’t mind me I am only teasing you.”

“Anyway, she would recognise me, and as I was trying to explain
to you …”

George took a sip of his beer. “You could disguise yourself.”

I thought about that until Veronica cut in with a huge laugh,
“yes, as a man!”

George roared. I stood up as tall as I could and gave Veronica
a cold stare. I was about to tell her what I thought of her when
George stopped laughing.

“Listen Lesley, I know this sounds mad. But it could be a real
bit of fun. Veronica here used to work in make up in the movie
business. She can make any woman look like a young pretty girl.
Why not disguise yourself as a female secretary?”

Now I was livid.

“I am not going that far!”

Veronica eyed me evilly making me shiver. She closed the patio
doors shutting out the noise of the party. “George is right.”

“No he isn’t!” I spat defiantly.

Veronica shook her head, “I didn’t think you’d be brave enough.”

George nodded. “It would take the courage of a real man to carry
that one off.”

“Not a house husband like Lesley here,” Veronica added.

There was an awful sparkle in both their eyes. I felt as if I
was being herded towards an elephant trap but could not find a
way back. “I am brave enough,” I found myself declaring, “its
just that …” I stopped short, thinking of a reason, any
excuse, not to go ahead with this.

George stood to one side of me and Veronica the other. I felt
like a little child being pressurised by older naughty children.
“In a week you would know whether Helen cheats or not. And that
would be it.”

“It would never work,” I said desperately. “I could never look
like a girl.”

George slapped me on my back, “that’s settled then. On Monday
morning drive around to our house. Veronica will work her magic
and then we can find out if it will work.”

With that they retreated back in the party and I was left alone
on the balcony my jaw hanging open. Oh hell!

3.

So that was how I ended up at their home. Naked after a hot
shower, shiny after the closest body shave you could imagine and
sitting in a white towelling robe before a mirror.

Veronica was amazingly skilled. Within ten minutes she had made
me up with flattering shape adjusting blushers, mascara, the
works.

A short curly blond wig was pushed over my head until it settled
tightly into position and we both looked at the result.

“George,” she called downstairs.

George came thumping up the stairs to us. “Wow.”

I must admit that the result was extraordinary. I looked like a
wide eyed young girl.

“What do you think?” Veronica asked awaiting my praise.

“Its very nice,” I began, finally able to extricate myself from
the situation, “but …’

“Exactly!” George exclaimed. “Continue and we will see the
finished result.”

I stood up, “But I …”

George had raced back downstairs. Veronica guided me over to a
full length mirror. “A basque first.”

“Veronica, If you don’t mind I would …. ooooh” I squealed. She
had ripped the towelling robe from me. I hurriedly put my hands
over my privates.

“Don’t worry dear,” she said as she rummaged through her
drawers, “I have seen plenty of cocks in my time. Though none
that small.”

She spoke without any sign of a smile. She must have been
getting so used to putting me down that she was no longer aware
that she doing it. I blushed hotly.

I found myself speechless. She was so forceful and manipulative.
I hated wearing make up. I felt so sissyish. The blond wig
tickled my cheeks. I felt ridiculous.

The basque was not a success until she had stuck two boobs on my
smooth chest. “I knew all these props from my films would come
in handy one day.”

The basque and falsies helped form a bit of a female figure on
me.

I accepted the white panties gratefully though she was
disappointed at the result. “How can such a small cock produce
such a large, unsightly shape?”

“Yes – it won’t work,” I said breathily ignoring her constant
put downs on my size. “Let’s give this a miss.”

“No. The dress might hide it.”

The stockings were dark American tan, the shoes had a three inch
heel. The short sleeveless dress was black and had a slight
rollover at the neck. Now I felt stupid and humiliated.

She called George back and they had me pose for them. I could
tell they weren’t happy. At last I thought, they would give up
on this crazy idea and let me go home.

“That bulge,” George said thoughtfully looking at my groin.

Veronica nodded. “It’s the only thing that gives it away. He
needs a gaffe, but I don’t have one.”

“Maybe something else would do?” George said thoughtfully.

“Maybe it would,” Veronica answered a little too quickly.

If I didn’t know any better I would have said that they had
rehearsed that little speech. But they could not have, could
they.

“Hang in for a second,” George said. He left the room for only
a few moments before returning with small metallic cylindrical
object with a clasp and small lock.

“Lie on the bed and lift up you dress he commanded.

“Now listen to me,” I said but Veronica was already guiding me
back to the bed.

She plonked me down so I was sitting on the edge. She then
pushed my shoulders making me lie on my back with my high heeled
feet still on the floor. I closed my eyes as you do at the
dentists when you just do not want to see what is going to
happen next.

She pulled up my dress and I felt as if I would die of shame. My
panties were pulled down and I felt the cylinder slip icily
around my cock. I heard a lock catch and I sat up. What had they
done?

I looked down to see that my dick had vanished. A curling small
tube of metal ran back between my legs.

“What do you think?” Veronica asked, once again looking for
praise.

I was too terrified for words. “What have you done,” I managed
to stammer out. “Where’s my ….”

“Locked safely away,” George said proudly. “Stand her up.”

Stand ‘her’ up. Her! And why not ask me to stand?

Veronica pulled up my little knickers which this time settled
smoothly around my groin without any tell tale bulges. The dress
was pulled down and lay flat at the front.

I stood on my heels.

“Brilliant.” Veronica laughed.

I fingered the front of my dress over my captured penis. “But
how do I get it off?”

George shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. It will help
with your disguise.”

“But I…”

“Try speaking more breathily,” Veronica mused.

“What?” I went to push my hands into my pockets but of course
there weren’t any. Instead I found myself fluttering the pink
varnished nails in her direction before putting my hands on the
hips of my dress. “Now I think we need to get a few facts
straight..”

Veronica gave me that withering sneer. “Listen Samantha …”

“Samantha!” I shuffled in my heels.

George laughed. “Nice name.”

She put her finger under my chin and tilted my head back. I felt
collywobbles in my stomach. She was so daunting. “Now George and
I are here to help you. If you don’t want any help then fine.
But unless you speak as I have directed you we will not listen
to you. Now try again. Nice and breathy and raise the pitch a
little. But not too much!”

“I want you both …”

She tilted my chin back harshly, her eyes glaring. If I wanted
to say anything I had better say it on her terms. The bitch!

I swallowed, my chin still on her finger. I dared not move. I
cleared my throat and tried a breathy lighter tone, “all I am
saying is that I am grateful for your help. Its just that I
think we are going too far and …”

Veronica turned to George and raised her eyebrows. “What do you
think?”

George nodded, “I think it’s very effective. I think she is
stunning.”

Veronica grabbed a small black shoulder bag. “You’ll need this
for your make up. Don’t worry about money. George here will sort
you out if you need anything. Or else come to see me on the
tenth floor.”

They guided me back down stairs to their chauffer driven car.
They did not stop speaking for a moment and I didn’t have a
moment to protest.

“The driver will take you into the offices.” Veronica said
quickly.

“Report to reception and ask for personnel,” George said, “tell
them you are Samantha Norton. They will be expecting you.”

Expecting me? But how could they have known this would work? How
could it already be planned?

I had a fleeting memory of the insect on the spiders web the
previous evening, before I was hustled into the car, flashing
stockings and panties.

George grabbed Veronica around the waist; “we’ll follow you in
about an hours time. We have a few things to sort out.” I
watched them kiss passionately as the car swooped away down the
drive. Through the rear window I saw them hurrying back in to
their house tearing at their clothes.

I sat in my short dress on the cold rear seat. I felt incredibly
vulnerable in a short sleeveless dress, looking as cute as this.

“Uhm excuse me driver,” I said.

“Yes miss?”

I wriggled forwards on to the edge of the seat. I used my new
breathy higher pitched tone. “There’s been a little mistake and
I must go home. I wont be going into work today. My address is
…”

“I have been given my instructions Miss. Sorry. I am to deliver
you to reception.”

Deliver me? Was I only a package?

I coughed theatrically. “Aren’t you supposed to obey
instructions driver?” I said haughtily.

“I am Miss.” And with that he pushed a button and a glass screen
rose between us .

The bastard! I was trapped in the back seat dressed as a girl
being ‘delivered’ as he put it to an office block in the city
and there was nothing I could do about it.

4.

The receptionist had directed me up to the forth floor where
another girl, sexily blond, with the shortest of skirts met me
with a huge relaxed smile. “You must be Samantha.”

I tugged at the bottom of my dress. It constantly felt like it
was riding up over my smooth stockings.

“Yes.” I was now getting used to my new voice. As no one looked
twice at me I suppose the disguise was working. I was beginning
to feel more confident. Perhaps I would be able to spy on my
wife. I would know once and for all whether she was cheating on
me.

“I’m Tracey and am I glad to see you!”

I saw that she had a large white badge over her right boob that
read ‘Tracey’ in large print with a motto just beneath I in
smaller letters: ‘at your service.’ I wish such a sexy girl was
at my service.

She led me down a swish, wide corridor with carpet so deep I had
to be very careful in my heels. If my hemline was high then it
was nothing compared with Tracey’s, which barely hung below her
gorgeous bottom. I felt a stirring down below but obviously it
was not going to get any bigger. It pushed at its entrapment
before finally giving up.

She led me into a small room with a table a few chairs and a
coffee machine. “This is our kitchen. Not much is it. All the
managers get to eat upstairs. Coffee?”

“Please.” I felt so self-conscious. I noticed girls dressed as
sexily as we moving briskly up and down the corridor carrying
reports or trays of coffee. I could hear phones going. The place
had a quiet efficient buzz to it. Non of the girls stopped to
chat.

“At least you’re with Miss Veronica,” Tracey said. “She is the
nicest of the managers.”

“The nicest!” I spoke in my normal voice and quickly pretended
to clear my throat before adopting the higher more breathy tone.
“She seems quite severe!”

Tracey smiled, “Miss Veronica has never punished any secretary
without good reason.” She leaned closer to me. “Which is more
than I can say for any of the others.”

Suddenly a dark shadow filled the doorway. A really huge man in
a suit. “Where’s my sales report bitch!”

Tracey smiled but her eyes showed genuine fear. “Please sir I
have been told to look after Samantha here until …”

“Samantha?” the brute cast his eyes hungrily over my body and
legs. He reached out and grabbed my bare arm, twisting me around
so sharply I stumbled on my heels. “Nice arse too. Who’s this
bitch been allocated to?”

Tracey swallowed hard, “please sir, Miss Veronica is handling
her.”

I could feel my face and arms flushing red. I kept my eyes
closed. Never had I been so humiliated.

He twisted me back and my eyes opened to look up at him.

“Get her allocated to sales resources.” He eyed me intently
making me hold my breath, “You’d like to be under my direction
wouldn’t you bitch?

I didn’t know what to say.

He then laughed. “I love them when they first get here. You’re
going to be real fun.” His awful smile dropped from his face as
he glared at Tracey. “You get that report on my desk in thirty
minutes and then bend over it. Stay there until I have dealt
with you.” He released my arm and gave me a final up and down
lusty glare. “Miss Veronica hey? We’ll see about that.”

And then he was gone. I heard Tracey sigh with relief. “I
thought I was in big trouble there for a moment.”

She handed me my coffee and I sat on one of the chairs. My legs
had become too weak to hold me. “But, but,” I stammered, “he
told you to bend over his desk. Surely you are going to report
him?”

Tracey laughed. “The worst I’ll get is a paddling. Maybe only a
spanking. If I complained God knows what I’d get.” She wriggled
on her chair apparently quite content that some brute was going
to spank her bottom.

“I love your dress,” she cooed.

“But you can’t let a man just beat you. This is the twenty first
century.”

She looked at me quizzically, her cup caught half way to her
lips. “Miss Veronica has explained about …” she trailed off
with her question, looking away.

“About?”

Another shadow at the door. My mouth hung open. It was my wife
Helen. She looked a million dollars in her neat trouser suit.
She looked troubled, much sterner than I had seen her at home.
I was caught in two minds. To hide my face or reveal myself and
ask Helen if the brute had ever tried to spank her.

“What’s happening Tracey?”

Tracey stood up, slightly cowed. The same smile and fearful
eyes. “Please Miss Helen I have been asked to look after the new
girl here …”

“Coffee is to be taken at eleven o’clock you lazy slut.”

I had never heard my wife spit out words in such a hideous
manner before.

Tracey’s eyes widened. “Please Miss I was asked to look after
….”

“You can look after her at your desk can’t you? Lazy bitch.
Can’t you girls think of anything for yourselves?”

Tracey put her hands to her mouth. I thought for a moment she
was going to cry. “Please Miss Helen, I am so stupid not to have
thought of that.”

Helen turned her fierce glare in my direction. “Haven’t you been
told to stand when a manager enters a room?”

I looked to Tracey who flipped her fingers upwards. I understood
immediately. I rose to my heels. The only certainty I felt was
that Helen had not recognised me. But then why should she with
me dressed as I was.

“Insolent bitch,” she spat at me. “That’s your first lesson. Now
both of you get back to reception where you belong.

“Yes Miss Helen.” Tracey said eagerly dashing passed her.

I fled after her, feeling the red hot stare from my wife on my
back.

At reception Tracey giggled with relief, “You are a lucky little
madam. That’s twice you have escaped a penalty from a manager.”

I sat in a chair behind reception grateful to hide my exposed
legs from the world. “Penalty?”

“Sure. God knows what she would have done with me if I had not
stood. The lady managers can be the worst.” She leaned closer to
me and whispered, “They all think they have something to prove
in front of the men. That they can keep us under the thumb just
as well as any man. So watch out.”

An hour later George and Veronica emerged from the lift. They
held hands, kissed.

I waited for either of them to say something to me, but they
ignored me.

George went down the corridor to a door near the end. Veronica
then shuffled through her mail. Any messages bitch?”

Tracey smiled, “no Miss Veronica. But please let me remind you
of the lunchtime meeting.”

Veronica nodded and without even looking at me said, “follow me
Samantha.”

She moved down the corridor in the direction of the coffee
machine.

I had to race in my heels to keep up with her. “Veronica,” I
tried.

Veronica shuffled the envelopes and with out looking at me spoke
quietly, “Miss Veronica when we are in work.”

“Yes Miss Veronica,” I tried. It felt humbling addressing a
friend of the family in that compliant manner. “Its just that I
have changed my mind. If you could get your chauffer to take
me…”

She turned into an office with me following like a skipping
puppy. “Close the door behind you bitch.”

Bitch! I stopped in the doorway of a richly furnished and neatly
designed office. A huge window over looked the city.

She hung her coat on a stand and sat behind a large desk. She
fired up her computer. “I did say close the door Samantha.”

I stepped in and closed the door. Obviously the word ‘bitch’ had
escaped her lips without her realising what she had said. I
mean, if the girls around here are content with acting like
sluts who can be beaten on command, then even I would refer to
them as bitches.

I sat in a chair the opposite side of the desk.

She opened her letters and again without even looking at me
spoke with her quiet authority. “Don’t remember asking you to
sit.”

I felt awkward. I didn’t want her to get the better of me. I
wanted some respect. At the same time I had a strong urge to
apologise and stand up.

“Are you still sitting little Sammi?”

Little Sammi!!!

I stood up back onto my heels, which were now making my feet
ache. “Please Veronica, Miss Veronica,” I corrected myself. I
didn’t want to be picked up on anything before I had a chance to
finish it.

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

Permission to speak? “Well, I, I , er …”

“So keep your mouth shut.” Her pc had come to life and she
checked through her e-mail.

I stood silently before her, self consciously wriggling in my
short dress. What do girls do with their hands! Without pockets
they become a self conscious distraction. Constantly fluttering
around the hips of the dress. The first chance I had I would
leave. If I had any money I could go now and catch a bus or a
train. Even dressed as I was that would be less humiliating than
staying here.

It was a good five minutes before she finished and sat back in
her chair as if she was finally ready for me. I of course had
just stood there like a fidgeting school girl until she did so.
She tapped her pen against her screen.

“I have already had a request from sales for you to join them.
Obviously you have been throwing yourself at every manager you
have met!”

What! “Look Veronica I think …”

“Silence.” Her voice was firm but never raised. “I’ll put him
straight.” She spoke the words as she typed them out: “find your
own cunt please Mr Brown.” She pressed a button and seemed to
look pleased with herself. She turned to me with a grin. “That
will sort him out! I found you and I will keep you. Got that?”

Now was the time for me to make my stand. I put my hands on my
hips, feeling the suspender belt through the dress and raised my
chin. “I think we need to understand a few things here,” before
sarcastically adding, “Miss Veronica,”

Veronica laughed. “Oh little Sammi you are going to be fun. I
hate them when they just cower with the first simple telling
off. But there again I have never had to break in a man before.”
She laughed again. “Well someone who is new to being a girl.”

She stood up and walked around the desk to me. She was so big
and menacing. I felt my knees knock. “Now then little Sammi, if
you are to work in your wife’s office you will obviously have to
know the rules of this organisation.”

She seemed to tower over me. I felt so weak and vulnerable in my
short dress and exposed arms. “Please Miss Veronica, I found
myself whining, “I just don’t want to do this any more.”

She smiled slyly, “oh don’t give in so quickly little Sammi.
Lets have some fight from you. I do like a good fight. Don’t
you?”

I hated fighting. I stepped back from her. If I have a problem
with a shop I ask Helen to go along and sort it out on her day
off. I always lose arguments.

She grabbed my bare arm as tightly as that horrible man, I now
knew as Mister Brown, had in the coffee room. She forced me over
to the full length cupboards and opened one of them. “I think
you should fight a little harder tramp. People will walk all
over you if you don’t stand up to them. You don’t want people
walking all over you do you?”

“No Miss Veronica.” I was alarmed at the way she could so
casually drag me from one point in her office to another.

The cupboard was full of stationary but also some items that
chilled my heart. She took a pair of leather wrist cuffs off a
hook and fastened one around my right wrist. I passively let her
do this. She then span me around and brought both arms behind my
back. Belatedly I struggled but it was too late. I heard clasps
being clinked firmly into position. Now I was scared out of my
wits. Here I was dressed as sexy office girl already feeling
vulnerable and exposed, now I had my hands secured behind my
back.

I felt like crying. “Please Miss Veronica ..”

“Now, now Sammi. No speaking unless spoken to. Let me see where
should we start with a new girl?”

On the rear wall of the open cupboard was a collection of canes,
crops and other instruments. She selected a paddle. “This should
do it.”

She led me back to her desk with me stumbling in my heels, my
wrists anchored at the small of my back. “Please Miss Veronica
let me go. I want to go home.”

She stopped in her tracks and looked down at me. “Oh? Are you
talking again little one?”

I bit my lipsticked lip. What was I supposed to reply?

“Pout your lips for me dear.”

I pouted my lips, feeling ridiculous.

“Very good. Now you keep them like that until told to speak.”
She smiled, “in fact I think you can stay like that through out
your stay here.

She then led me back to the chair behind her desk and flopped
down into it. She gave my arm a tug and I collapsed easily over
her, a mess of kicking heels with a load of squealing.

She arranged me over her lap so that my bottom was up high and
my forehead on the carpet. My heels kicked helplessly out in
space.

She tugged up my skirt and I groaned, “oh no, no, no.”

“Gosh this is tight isn’t it,” she laughed. “No wonder you are
so much in demand from the men upstairs.”

Finally she had the dress up over my hips. She took hold of my
panties and squeezed them down over my bottom and down my
thighs.

This just could not be happening. I tried desperately not to cry
but I was so shamed and helpless.

“I trust that you are still pouting down there.”

I pouted immediately even though I knew that my blond wig had
cascaded around my face hiding my lips form her. But this was
not time to be disobedient, even if Veronica could not see me.

The first whack was just plain shock. I didn’t feel anything. I
was too staggered to feel anything. Even the second and third
might have been dealt out to someone else. But the whacks
continued fluently and effortlessly. Pretty soon the pain was
intense and I was squealing like a girl.

Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack …

The tears came quickly. I had been ready to cry since she had
cuffed me making me feel so helpless. “Please Miss Veronica no
more. It stings. Ouch!”

I head her laughing. “My, my. Still talking? What a little
chatterbox you are.”

Whack, whack, whack, hack.

The hits continued without a break. I squealed and cried out.
But I did not speak any more words. But if I could not say
anything how could I say that I had learned my lesson?

Whack, whack, whack, whack.

Suddenly they stopped. I heard her breathing heavily from her
excretions.

It was over finally it over. The tears rolled down my face
matting my hair.

I felt her take hold of my hips and edge me foreword. “We just
need to get you over a bit more for the next part.”

The next part!

Now my face was fully on the floor and my legs were sticking out
parallel with the floor.

“I remind you again Little Sammi not to say anything.

Whack, whack, whack, whack.

This time she was beating the tops of my thighs. Now I sobbed
like a child. I desperately wanted to tell her that I would do
anything she asked if she would just please stop the beating.

Whack, whack, whack, whack.

Oh God.

Suddenly it stopped. “Time for a rest don’t you think little
Sammi?”

I held my breath. The tears had washed over my forehead and all
over my face. Should I speak?

“I asked you a question, so you may reply. But keep your reply
short and polite.”

A rest! “Yes please Miss Veronica.”

“And would you like to sit in my lap for a bit?”

Anything to get out of this situation. “Yes please Miss
Veronica.”

She helped my get shakily to my feet and then tugged my sore
backside into her lap. She manoeuvred me around so that her arm
was around me, supporting me. My legs were sat over her, my
heels not quite touching the floor. My thighs burned. My
shackled hands were locked into place by her arm around me.

She lifted up a tissue and held it to my nose. “Big blow.”

I blew into it with her squeezing my nose rhythmically like
mother with a child. “There, there. That’s it. My you are in a
state aren’t you.” She took some more tissues and dabbed at my
face. “You were asked another question. I said, you are in a
right state aren’t you?”

“Yes Miss Veronica,” I sobbed as she dabbed at my eyes.

“So now then Little Sammi, I asked you whether you were prepared
to stand up to the managers here or whether you will let them
walk all over you.”

I was not really paying her much attention. My bottom and thighs
burned. The tears would not stop. I just wanted to go home. “Yes
Miss Veronica.”

“So you are prepared to fight?”

I stopped sniffling and looked at her wondering what to reply.

“Good girl,” she announced. “Stand up for yourself. With that
she pulled me to my feet and made to drag me back over her lap.
Oh God anything other than that.

“Stop, please Miss Veronica.”

She squeezed my arm spitefully. “But you are ready to fight back
aren’t you?”

I shook my head feeling my hair, damp from my tears, tickle my
face.

“I can’t hear you. Are you going to fight?”

“No Miss Veronica.”

She seemed shocked. “You mean you are going to let the managers
walk all over you? Do what they want with you?”

I hesitated long enough to feel her give me a brutish tug
downwards.

“Yes Miss Veronica. They can walk all over me. I will do what
they want.”

She pulled me so that I was once again sat in her lap. “Now do
you think that you have learned your lesson yet?”

“Oh yes definitely, yes Miss Veronica.”

“Such enthusiasm. I like that. Now working here is a very
rewarding career for a young girl.”

I made to interrupt her; I was not a young girl! But she hushed
me and continued:

“Just think, most days your biggest problem is knowing whether
to empty the dishwasher or fill the washing machine. Should you
tackle the ironing before you vacuum the house. Here you are
very important.”

“Am I?” I sniffed.

“Of course,” she laughed. “How could we managers function
without you girls working hard for us? We need you.”

“I had not seen it like that,” I sniffed. Of course Helen
appreciated my housework but here I was part of the big machine.
I sat up straight feeling proud.

“Now we if managers find that we have to devote some time on you
girls to help you see the error of your ways, remember,” she
held me tight, “we are taking time out of our important
schedules just for you.”

My bottom felt more warm than stinging now. I wriggled on her
lap. I liked her when she was sweet and helpful. “I hope you
don’t expect me to be grateful for what you have just done to
me,” I smiled.

My smile fell away like broken bottles. Her eyes were suddenly
glowing with rage. I coughed and spluttered: “Of course I can
see that you may see it that way. You think, ah, there is a girl
who has been naughty and has to be helped …”

I ran out of words and she sat rigidly straight. Her eyes
unbearable.

I tried again, “I suppose it does encourage me not to get on the
wrong side of you. I can see the benefits.”

“Of what?” she demanded coldly.

“Of my, er your, you know ..” I floundered, “my spanking,” I
whispered.

“I cannot hear you girl.”

I cleared my throat and said loudly, “my spanking Miss
Veronica.”

“I hope so!” She said doubtfully, “I hope so for your sake.” She
opened a drawer and took out a badge like the one I saw Tracey
wearing. It said Sammi in large letters and had the motto ‘at
your service’ beneath it. Oh no. Oh God. Don’t pin that on me!

She did. ‘Sammi, at your service.’

5.

Minutes later I was helping Tracey make coffee for a sales
meeting. My bottom felt warm and even pleasant now. My penis was
held hard which was a problem when you are surrounded by sexily
attired, beautiful, submissive girls. There were so many of
them. The marks on my wrists from the cuffs had died away.

“I hope Miss Veronica wasn’t too hard on you,” Tracey said
pouring the boiling water into the pot. “She isn’t too bad
really. You could have had worse.”

“We just had a few words,” I replied in my best breathy girl
voice.

Karen giggled cutely. “Of course. And perhaps a few spanks?”

I wriggled and blushed. How did she know?

Karen leaned over and kissed my cheek in a sisterly fashion. I
gasped. I could easily fall in love with such a gorgeous girl.
“Don’t worry, Sammi, my manager used a cane on me. On my very
first day! Still, I certainly learned quickly.” She giggled as
if amused by the memory. Suddenly her face darkened. “Don’t get
me wrong. I am of course very grateful that he was so firm with
me from the outset.”

“I’m sure,” I said. I felt dreadful. Did every girl in the
office know that I had been spanked? My mouth fell open. And all
the managers? Including Helen my wife. I shut my eyes against
the fears of the world.

Through the day I soon learned to keep my head down and my mouth
closed. If a manger demands something you obey him as quickly as
you can. I saw one poor girl bent over a desk and slapped about
her thighs with a ruler. All because she didn’t rush to the
managers office quickly enough.

I kept my head down, a smile on my face when addressed and did
my typing very carefully.

I saw very little of Helen. She seemed very busy, constantly
hurtling around the offices. She was not the kind woman I knew
from home. She rarely raised her voice at me no matter how
disappointed she was with my chores. Yet here the girls were in
terror of her. One poor girl dropped all her notes when Helen
simply glared at her.

But there was no sign of her flirting with the men here. And why
should they. As lovely as Helen was most men would be captivated
by the submissive obedient cuties ‘at their service’.

At the end of the day Veronica whisked me away from the office
and back to her house.

I showered and gratefully changed into my men’s clothes. She led
me briskly back to the car reminding me that Helen would be home
soon. I asked her for the key.

She pushed me into my car with, “oh we’ll sort it out tomorrow.
But make sure you are here by eight. Otherwise I wont be able to
release you. Now hurry or you will have to explain to your wife
where you have been.”

6.

I made it home only minutes before Helen burst in. She gave me
her usual peck on the cheek, slumped on the sofa and held out
her hand. Of no! I usually waited with a glass of something cool
for her when she got home. In my panic my domestic routine had
slipped totally from my mind.

She laughed when she saw me racing back. “Silly little house
husband, you had forgotten hadn’t you.”

I poured her a wine from the fridge and sat next to her for my
cuddle, “yes dear. I have had quite a day.”

She pulled my head onto her shoulder; “now don’t bother me with
your domestic trials tribulations. I have had a hard day in the
office.” She took a sip of her drink and looked around. “Lesley?
Have you vacuumed the lounge?”

“Er no. I have been too busy.”

“Too busy? The DVD’s have not been put away from last night! And
look there is my cup from this morning still out.”

I raced around the room, tidying it.

“What have you been doing? I fled into the kitchen with her
following on my heels. My heart was in my mouth.

“Lesley!” She shouted.

I looked around at the dirty dishes and the unkempt kitchen. “I
am sorry, really I am Helen. Its just that …”

“It’s a tip!”

“Yes dear.” I was in fast motion clearing the kitchen.

“And where is my dinner?”

I loaded the dishwasher and froze. I had to think. “Its
something quick tonight dear.”

She humphed and put her glass down. She had never been so angry
with me before. She had never needed to be cross with me in the
past. I was very efficient around the house. Then she took me in
her arms and hugged me.

“Its alright. It doesn’t matter. I am in a hot, horny mood
tonight. I am hungry for my little man.”

She bit my neck and my penis grew only to be ensnared in its
belt. “Owch”, I squealed.

She laughed, “did I bite you too hard? Come on upstairs I’ll
sort you out. You can do the dishes later.”

Oh no. My restraint made intercourse impossible. “I have a bit
of a head ache right now dear.”

“Nonsense,” she squeezed me in her arms. “Nothing I can’t blow
away? Hey?” She pinched my arse.

I wriggled free my penis burning in its confinement. “Sorry
Helen. Maybe later”.

She slapped my arse, “You bet big boy! I love it when you play
hard to get and I have to chase you around the house.”

She returned to the sitting room and I sighed with relief. First
thing in the morning I would be at that bitch Veronica’s, house
to get this stupid contraption removed. Right now though I had
an evening that promised to be a nightmare. How could I hide the
chastity belt from my wife? She was always so raunchy. I dare
not let her discover it. How would I ever explain it?

I made a pasta dish with some chicken and a tomato sauce.
Fortunately I had the meal on the table within thirty minutes so
she never had the opportunity to berate me.

I ate in silence as she kept making horny suggestions to me,
while rubbing her stockinged foot against my leg. “Perhaps you
can put that policeman’s uniform on tonight.”

“Yes dear,” I was horror struck.

I had to stay away from my hot wife. For the next two hours I
remained tidying up the kitchen. Then I did the ironing.
Anything to keep me out of the sitting room and away from my
turned on wife.

Then I raced upstairs with a quickly shouted, ‘good night dear’.
I changed and leaped into bed.

I pretended to be asleep when seconds later Helen entered.
“Where is my little policeman with his night stick? Oh.” She saw
me asleep and heard my snoring. “Pretending to be asleep is it?”
She laughed. She leaped on top of me and I felt the air squeezed
from my lungs.

“Helen please you are hurting me!”

She was livid. She took hold of the back of my hair and gave it
a painful twist. “Listen! There is no point in keeping a dog at
home and when you need it, it lies in bed pretending to be
asleep.”

A dog! I felt tears welling into my eyes.

She softened, “oh little Lesley. I didn’t mean it.” She held me
tight. “It’s just that I do want you so. I need it. I really
do.”

“I am just not up to it tonight,” I lied my prick exploding from
her physical attention.

“Maybe I am being selfish. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“Yes, good idea.” I lied.

Soon she was in bed cuddling up to me. My dick was on fire.
Whenever she tried to put her hand on my groin I moved it away.
She rubbed her self up against my backside desperate to get off.

“Oh hell Lesley you know I need a man’s dick inside me!” She
screamed in frustration.

“Yes dear.”

“Even a dildo doesn’t do the trick for me. There has to be a man
on the end of it.”

“Yes dear.”

She pinched my arse wickedly. “Tomorrow then”

“Owch. Yes dear. Tomorrow morning.”

I bit the bed sheets in my own sexual frustration, my own fear
and trepidation. Tomorrow morning Helen would be in an even
worse state of sexual need!

7.

By the time I heard her moving around upstairs I had half
dressed and laid out her breakfast stuff on the table. I had
ironed one of her favourite trouser suits and hung it on a
hanger on a chair near her bed. I had performed my chores as
silently as I could, desperate not to disturb her.

She preferred ankle length stockings with her trouser suits
along with a silk teddy. Just laying out her sexy clothes
stirred my penis. I was desperate to have its metal prison
removed.

“Lesley?” She shouted down, “get your arse back into this bed I
need a fuck and I need it now.”

I stood trembling at the bottom of the stairs. I had carried my
clothes out of the bedroom on tiptoe and was dressing furiously.
“Sorry dear. It will have to be tonight.” I called back.

“What!” She thundered. “Are you cheating on me! Is that why you
are not …”

I fled for the door, pulling my unbuttoned shirt around me. “I
have to go early to the shops today. Dear, I will see you
tonight.”

I reached the car as the bedroom window opened. “Lesley I need
you!”

Had she no shame in the open street? I saw lights coming on in
the other houses. I climbed into the car. It was still only
seven o’clock. I drove away not daring to look back.

I knew Helen could only come with a man inside her. Not even the
best dildo would do anything except frustrate her. Normally she
would require me to service her twice in the night and at least
once in the morning. She would be in an agony of need.

Just wait until I see George and Veronica. Their stupid plans
had led to this. Now I would sort them out!

End of Part One

Deborah Ford

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