Tuesday, 30 November 2010

The Academy for Maids - 2016

Michael stood outside the entrance of the building, his head down, reluctant to go in. It was the last place on earth he wanted to be right now!

His wife, Stella, gave him a none too gentle shove "Go on, get in there!" she ordered him "Or else!"

Michael forced himself to walk, ever deeper into his own version of hell on earth. He was right outside the door. His stomach churning and his brain filled with confused thoughts, he turned to his wife and sank to his knees.

"Please Stella, my love! I begging you not to do this to me! I'll do anything, anything, but not this!" To his surprise, Michael found that he was weeping. His blurred vision could make out the grey trousers that his wife wore and the smart heeled boots. He looked up at her face in hope.

Only, when his vision cleared, his wife's normally attractive features screwed up in a look of contempt. Michael looked for any sign of love or pity in his wife's visage and found none. He knew then that she would make him go through with this.

"Get up and stop making a spectacle of yourself you pathetic excuse for a man!" Stella snapped at him before moving past him and pressing the buzzer that was located on the right hand side of the double oak doors.

Michael made out a soft tingle behind the solid doors. Resignedly, he got to his feet, feeling wretched and miserable. Trying to beg had won him no favours from his wife.

Once Stella confirmed who she was and that she had brought her husband to start his training here, the doors swung open to show a smart, modern reception area. A young girl, probably about the same age as Michael and Stella's daughter, Pippa, sat behind a round desk bristling with telephones and a computer workstation.

"Welcome Mrs Harding" the girl chimed, giving Stella a huge beaming smile "I'm Rachel". The two women shook hands. Rachel turned to look at Michael "And you must be the new pupil!" she said, managing to give Michael a small smile of encouragement.

"Yes, this worthless specimen is my husband. Unfortunately for me! You're welcome to him!" said Stella. "I take it that everything is in order and that I can leave him with you?"

"Oh yes, Mrs Harding!" said "You have paid for a full training course for your husband. He will be a pupil here until he graduates".

"Which, considering his abilities, or lack of them!, will mean he'll be here for years!" spat Stella.

The girl looked slightly offended "Oh, no, Mrs Harding, we have taken on the most difficult of pupils and moulded them into perfect graduates in only a matter of months! You'll get your husband back soon - and as you want him!"

Michael shuddered.

"Very well" said Stella "Contact me when he is ready".

"Of course, Mrs Harding".

Without a word to, or a glance at, her husband, Stella walked out of the doors and back into her world, leaving Micheal all alone in an alien place that was about to become all of his world.

Once Stella had vanished from view, Rachel turned to him, with a hard look on her face and ordered him to sit down and be silent whilst she arranged for him to be "collected" as she put it.

Michael, confused and frightened at what lay in store for him, stumbled over to a chair and sat down. He heard Rachel talking to someone on the phone and saw her eyes glance over in his direction. Then she put the phone down, and without any sign that Michael existed at all in her world, went about her duties, merrily typing away.

Michael was looking at the floor when a large shadow fell across his field of vision. He looked up to see a large woman (she must be at least six feet tall and looked pretty strong too) dressed in a ladies business suit and carrying a clipboard. She was older than Michael by a good ten years he decided. Her hair was greying and she wore glasses. Her face wore the same expression as that of his own wife earlier, hard and pitiless and regarding him as a little worm.

She motioned for him to follow her, as if by deigning to actually speak to him she would be soiled or worse, and led him deeper into the building. Michael noted that unlike the elegant oak doors on the front of the building, all of the interior doors were solid steel security doors and that every window he saw was barred. It was like being in prison.

He was led upstairs to an area denoted by a sign as "Dormitories" and taken to a bathroom. The woman, who gave her name as Miss Roach, ran him a bath and once the tub was full, ordered him to take a bath. She then left him alone. Michael heard the lock in the door click and realised that he was locked in. The only window in the room had bars on it.

Michael decided that he had better get undressed and have his bath. It might even make him feel better. He had to admit that the warm water did make him feel warmer and more positive. The soaps and shampoos he had to use were, as he had guessed, for women, and his body and hair smelt of lilac and jasmine once he finished and dried himself off.

He felt slightly humiliated to smell the way he did, but that was the whole point of this horrible place. To humiliate men. He reached for his clothes, which he had folded and placed on a chair, only to find them gone. Someone had obviously entered the room whilst he was bathing and removed them.

The only article of clothing he found was a pink fluffy dressing gown with matching slippers. Just like what a woman would wear. Humiliated, Michael realised he had no choice but to put them on. He had nothing else to wear. I must look ridiculous!

There was a rap at the door, accompanied by Miss Roach's harsh voice asking him why he was taking so long. When Michael confirmed that he had finished the door was unlocked and Michael was ordered out of the room. Miss Roach looked at him in his pink dressing gown and furry slippers and nodded approvingly before ordering him to follow her again.

They walked a short distance to a door marked "Bluebell Dormitory", which Miss Roach opened and led Micheal through. As expected, the long room contained simple single beds, to be occupied by several pupils. Michael noticed how spartan the dormitory was. There was no carpeting, just bare floorboards, polished and scratched by innumerable shoe soles, and just beds and sticks of furniture. A hotel this wasn't. It was even more bare and sparse than Michael's old boarding school from his boyhood. An eternity ago from Michael's perspective.

There was no one else there, at present. Miss Roach pointed to a bed and told Michael that it was his. Then she went to a battered wardrobe and opened it up to reveal what Michael had feared it would contain.

Maids uniforms. Black dresses with frilly edging and a frilly apron, with a lace cap, stockings, suspenders, black high heeled shoes and a pile of bras and knickers.

"This is what you will be wearing from now on, little man! You can sort yourself out with a uniform. And you'll need several sets of underwear. I'll leave you for fifteen minutes and when I return I expect to see you in your uniform, standing by your bed". Miss Roach then departed.

Michael was shaking. This was so horrible and humiliating. To have to dress up as a maid! Steeling himself, he sorted through the clothes and underwear. It took him a while to find anything that fitted him and he struggled with the bra and suspenders but at the end of it he was dressed in his uniform, with spare underwear stored away, and standing obediently at his bed when Miss Roach returned.

Michael felt very foolish standing at his bed like a docile little girl, dressed up as a maid.

She wasn't pleased. She told him his appearance was a disgrace and that he had no idea how to even dress himself. Even small children could dress themselves. She ordered him to bend over. Michael reluctantly obeyed and then he felt the skirt of his dress being flipped up and his lacy knickers being pulled roughly down.

Michael knew what was coming but still screamed as his bottom was spanked with a paddle. After about half a dozen blows, he was told to stop blubbing and pull his knickers up. In much pain and greatly humilated, Michael adjusted his underwear.

Miss Roach ordered him to accompany her to the headmistress's office. Michael entered a large reception area where a girl who looked as young as Rachel manned the desk and announced that Miss Walker was expecting them.

Miss Roach walked past her, with Michael dressed in his maid's uniform, following in her wake, and moved into the headmisstress's office. Miss Walker, a woman slightly older than Miss Roach, sat behind a large teak desk, in complete command of her world.

"Is this the new pupil?" Miss Walker asked.

"Yes, Headmistress" answered Miss Roach "This is Michael. A useless, lazy husband. No longer able to satisfy his wife. Relies on his wife for his upkeep. Sinks into depravity by looking at other women. His wife wants him to serve her, but not as a husband and equal partner, but as a maid!"
Miss Walker regarded Michael with contempt "You are a pitiful specimen of manhood. We can make you into something more useful. To your wife. We will make you into the perfect man!"

Michael's head was bowed down in shame at appearing thus in front of these women and being denigrated by them and being treated as if he was of no account.

Miss Walker rose from her chair and walked towards Michael. As she walked past her desk, she paused to pick something up from it and then advanced towards Michael and pinned the item she had picked up to his false bosom. It was a blue badge with "Michael - Scullery Maid" printed on it.

"You will wear your badge at all times" Miss Walker told him "It not only tells everyone who and what you are, it also denotes the stage you are in your development. At present, you are the lowest of the low, an untrained male. As you learn and adjust to a man's true place and purpose in this world, your status will change. You can progress to a parlourmaid and then to a ladies' maid, if you are willing to accept your destiny. And this is your destiny. To be a maid to your dominant wife".

Michael was appalled at his fate "I don't want to be a maid!" he protested "I'm a man! Not a sissy girl!"

"Oh dear" said Miss Walker "he has an attitude problem. There's only one way to deal with such a poor attitude. The paddle please, Miss Roach".

In spite of his protests and amid much futile struggling against two women who were both stronger than he was, Michael found himself bent over, with his knickers down and being roundly spanked. Michael was sobbing by the time they had finished with and Miss Walker ordered him to be taken to take up his new duties as a Scullery Maid.

The pain was bad enough, but it was the humiliation of being treated like a child - and a girl child at that - which Michael hated most. He realised that he would have to do as he was told if he was to avoid any more punishment. His bottom, subjected already to two spankings, ached.

Michael was taken to the kitchens and put under the supervision of the cook, another older lady called, appropriately, Miss Cooke. Michael was made to scrub the kitchen floors, the ovens, the dishes and was told he would get another spanking if Miss Cooke found fault with his work. Michael found doing what he considered "women's work" humiliating and exhausting. It took him hours to get the work done and at the end of it he was dead on his high heeled feet. He didn't realise how much effort was needed and wondered for the first time how women had managed when they did this sort of work.

To his horror, Miss Cooke was not satisfied with his work and, once again, Michael had to drop his knickers and receive another spanking. He was sent to bed, with no dinner, exhausted and with a very red bottom.

Michael's co-residents other men who had recently arrived for training and who were scullery maids, as Michael was, although slightly further along in their development. For the most part, they were too exhausted and demoralised by their new existence to say much. There was an exception, a man named Peter, who, according to himself had once ran a large company but had had a mistress. When his wife found out she threatened to leave him unless he did this maid training thing. Losing his wife would effectively mean losing not only his home and access to his children. but also his business, so he had no choice. He hated everything about his new life.

"A fifty year old businessman having to wear a frilly apron and scrub floors! It's so humiliating!" he remarked. Then a look of cunning came over his face "But I'm not going to put up with it anymore cos I'm breaking out of here. Tonight! Anyone want to join me?"

The other residents turned over in their beds, too tired to move, let alone embark on a escape. Michael was tempted on the idea of escape but couldn't see that it was possible. The security in this place was like a maximum security prison. He merely got undressed and went to bed in his underwear.

Peter snorted in contempt "OK, if you want to be turned into sissies, it's your call, but I'm outta here!" and with that he left the dormitory.

Michael fell asleep immediately and was only woken up by his alarm clock, set to 5 am, since he had to be in the kitchen by 6 am. He was again made to scrub floors and dishes and treated as a skivvy, running around in a maid's dress and heels.

His routine was interupted by an announcement over the public address system that was in place that all maids were to report to the assembly hall immediately. Michael trooped along with the other maids to a large hall where all of the maids (fifty in all) and the staff were gathered.

In the centre of the hall was a set of stocks and imprisoned in the stocks was a red faced Peter, still wearing his maid's outfit. His escape attempt had obviously not turned out as he had hoped and he was in serious trouble.

Miss Walker stepped forward and addressed everyone present "Maids, please observe and learn from what is about to happen to this wretched excuse for a man, who had the temerity to attempt to escape the happy and harmonious environment which we have provided for you. We are deeply upset by what has happened and that this man has rejected us. Michael, step forward please".

Thoroughly alarmed at being singled out (Had Peter implicated him as an accomplice?), Michael nervously stepped forward. Miss Walker handed him a paddle "As the newest maid, you will have the honour of administering the punishment. Prepare the wretch to receive his punishment!"

Michael looked dumbly at the paddle. His first impulse was to drop it. He didn't want to spank another maid. He felt sorry for Peter, who was a victim, just as he and the other maids were, of these sadistic females.

Peter had meantime been prepared and was ready to receive his punishment. Miss Walker noted Michael's reluctance "Michael, if you don't administer the punishment this wretch justly deserves you will share it".

Michael couldn't face another spanking. His bottom still hurt from the last one. And there was no point in resisting. So he began to spank Peter, trying not to use too much force, but Miss Walker ordered him to put his back into it, unless he wanted to be spanked himself, so Michael laid it on and had Peter in tears by the time he was told to stop.

Peter was left in the stocks "to reflect upon his folly" indefinitely.

"Let that be a lesson to all of you" said Miss Walker to the maids "Put any thought of escape from your minds as no-one has ever succeeded in that futile endeavour. Accept your fate and learn to be better maids and you will save yourself much pain and unhappiness. You are all to return to your duties"

The maids, shaken by what they had seen, glanced at each other before departing. Michael, appalled at what he had been made to do, was trembling. He was no use at his duties, but Miss Cooke did not, for some reason, make an issue of it and for the first time, Michael went to bed with a full stomach and an unspanked bottom.

The next month went by in a blur for Michael. His days were spent doing the backbreaking work of a Scullery Maid, being spanked frequently for poor work, and sleeping. Michael was too tired to even think about protesting or escaping. He shuddered at the memory of what had happened to Peter. Peter had eventually been released from the stocks and demoted to being not even a Scullery Maid, but a cleaner. He had to clean all of the toilets and he would have to earn back his former status. Michael did not want to end up like that and so did not even think about escape.

Instead, he knuckled down to his work. Now that he was used to the work, he found it easier and even enjoyable. To his surprise, in the next assembly, Miss Walker singled him out again and promoted him to the status of Parlourmaid, for showing the proper attitude and applying himself to a maid's work.

The promotion meant a significant change in Micheal's status. He was leaving the dormitory and was given a room to himself. This was carpeted and furnished simply but it was a big improvement on the dorms. Michael now wore a different uniform. A long dress with a large frilled apron and a cap. Michael was also given silk underwear to wear underneath. The clothes and underwear was of better quality than what he wore before. His name badge was now pink to denote his progress and read "Michael - Parlourmaid".

His duties as a Parlourmaid were a lot easier than his previous ones. He still had to do a lot of cleaning but this involved sweeping floors and dusting ornaments and was nothing like as hard as the work in the kitchen.

On his first day, Miss Roach took him in hand. "Michael, now that you have progressed, it is important that your appearance and bearing are impeccable. From now on you will have to shave off all of your body hair and we will have to do something with your hair".

Which, after more than a month, was now shoulder length, Michael noted.

"And" Miss Roach continued "You will be corseted from now. A corset will give you a more feminine figure and improve your posture". Miss Roach then proceeded to introduce Michael to the mysteries of corsetry, lacing him tightly in a pink satin whalebone corset. Michael could barely breath once he had been laced in and was unable to bend over. The corset kept his back rigid.

Once he had put his maid's uniform back on, Michael had to admit that he had a very womanly figure. Miss Roach then instructed him to wash his hair and to style it in a girlish bob and then taught him how to make up his face.

By the time he had finished making his face up, Michael reflected that he made a convincing and good looking woman but inside he was cringing in shame. It seemed that although his lot had improved, the price was to be made to become more feminine!

He was then made to go about his parlourmaids duties, which had suddenly become more difficult when wearing a corset.

As time went on, Michael realised that having to wear female clothes, doing traditionally feminine chores and the fear of punishment made him more timid and submissive. In his former life, he had considered himself to be quite manly, but in just a matter of weeks he had been transformed into a docile maid, afraid to open his lipsticked mouth without permission, much less seek escape or rebellion.

Two months went by and Michael was now accustomed to having to depilate his body regularly, wearing silk frilly underwear and corsetry, and tripping about the building in his maid's outift, dusting and cleaning.

Michael was aware that the place was completely female-dominated and that any men in the place were there to be trained, to serve women and to be punished. A relentless regime of feminisation was pursued to turn masculine males into submissive feminine maids.

All the pupils were broken, eventually, and embraced their both their new status and their own femininity. Michael witnessed graduation ceremonies where sissfied maids, who had once been masculine, accepted their gold name badges before being handed over to their wives to spend the rest of their lives as her servant.

In his fourth month in that place, Michael had become not only used to his feminine clothes and role but actually found himself enjoying wearing pretty things, having soft, shaven skin, the smell of his own perfume, the feel of silks and satins on his skin and hosiery on his long legs, the frills of his apron. Even wearing a corset had become a delightful experience.

Michael reflected that they had won, but that where his old self would have regarded his current situation as a defeat of his male ego, the new Michael was merely resigned to his feminine fate.

Michael answered a summons from Miss Walker. He entered the room and was surpised to see his wife there. Stella looked no different from the last time he had seen her. Michael had obviously changed considerably over that period! He was about to speak when he remembered that he was not allowed to until he was spoken to. Remembering his place, he executed a curtsey.

Miss Walker ordered him to pour her and her guest tea. As Michael obeyed, he could not help but ovehear the conversation between the two women, who treated him as though he was not there.

"Your husband's will has been completely broken" said Miss Walker "He will be as putty in your hands. He is now a pretty and submissive maid. He has lost all tendencies towards masculinity and is very feminine".

"Good" answered Stella "For he was a poor excuse for a man. Having him as a sissy maid will be a big improvement for both him and myself. When do I get him back"

Michael handed his wife a cup of tea and for the first time, Stella noticed him and saw his name badge. She almost dropped her cup in shock "My goodness! Michael? Is that you?"

"Answer the lady, Michael" Miss Walker instructed him.

A whole range of emotions flashed through Michael's brain. His old self would have been filled with feelings of hatred and revenge for what this woman had done to him. But the new Michael felt fear of the power of women and adoration for a woman he still loved, deep down.

"Yes, mistress. It is I, your husband".

"I didn't recognise you! You look so sweet and adorable in that outfit! You look more like a female than I do!" Stella said.

"I am pleased that my appearance meets with your approval madam" answered Michael, submissively.

"Can I take him home?" asked Stella "I have a whole load of chores for him! I can't wait to see him scrubbing my floors and cleaning my house in his pretty uniform!"

"Not quite yet" answered Miss Walker "There is the graduation ceremony....."

An hour later, Michael went through his own graduation ceremony. He exchanged his parlourmaid's uniform for the short dress with frilly petticoats that showed off his long stockinged legs and his handsomely frilled knickers peeping out from the outrageously short skirt, and a pair of gold stilettos. As a tribute to his new femininity, Michael begged to be allowed to have his ears pierced and for gold studs to be fitted into his lobes, a request that was graciously granted by Miss Walker.

To the applause of the staff and students, a beaming Michael was awarded his new gold name badge that bore his new name, "Michaela" and his new title "Graduate Maid" before meekly following his wife to his new life as her maid.

Miss Walker watched her latest creation leave and allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. One more arrogant male successfully converted to femininity. The plans of her benefactor, a young billionnairess who believed in male femininity to make men the servants of womankind, were progressing well. More Maid Academies were being opened up across the globe. In fact, demand for the services the academy offered far outstripped supply. Women all over the world wanted to turn their useless husbands into their maids for their service and for revenge upon the male gender, which still assumed it was the dominant gender.

Times are a changing thought Miss Walker. I won't rest until all males are serving us as pretty, feminised maids and the myth of male dominance is finally put to bed!

9 comments:

  1. Another male will be in his true position for life from now on.

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  2. please take me I long to be a sissy maid

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  3. I am longing for a strict mistress

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  4. I am goding to mke ny husband a sissy boy he likes to wear pabties now next iss bra and satin slip blonde wig leather bootd white rd lips

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  5. I can see how the control and discipline inherent in this story could change one's outlook and speed the training of a sissy maid.
    For myself I was more lovingly trained to be a sissy maid after finding a patron willing to take a young transvestite under his care and ease her into her maid / housekeeper role. Oddly during life I have found males to be more the ones interested in having a sissy maid then females.

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  6. would love to
    be in his place

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