Crossdressing Sissy: Forced To Be A Hotel Maid

By Jo Santana

Boring, low-paid accountant Greg Watson gets taken on a city break holiday by Barbara, his bullying, high-powered wife. While she is out shopping he takes the opportunity to have sex with a beautiful, young, Russian hotel maid, Natasha. His wife walks in at the crucial moment and at a stroke his life ends as he has known it.

His wife decides to punish him by forcing Greg to work the rest of the week as a female hotel maid. Greg is given the name Emily. Forced to take a job at the same hotel, the new maid is given a room in the maid’s quarters and a pretty, sky-blue and white dress to wear on duty. The new girl serves out her punishment pushing the cleaning cart around the rooms, mopping the floors and changing the linen.

Emily’s lot gets worse and worse. Tormented both by Barbara and Natasha, she spends her week working and trying to satisfy their lesbian fantasies. One week becomes two, then three, then four. Her situation is so bad that the only possibility of escape is by entering a relationship with Ashley. A good looking guy.

A sensational sissy maid story of enforced male servitude, female domination and punishment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swordworks Books
• Release date: Aug 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781301966417

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Crossdressing Sissy: Forced To Be A Hotel Maid

By Jo Santana

SMASHWORDS EDITION

PUBLISHED BY:

Miro Books

Crossdressing Sissy: Forced To Be A Hotel Maid

Copyright © 2011 by Jo Santana

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Chapter One

Greg put his key into the door and walked into his hallway. He was tired, no, weary would best describe it the way he felt. Working in the accounts office for a major company was not a job to inspire a man. The work was boring, the hours long, the pay poor and worst of all was when he got home. His wife would be waiting for him, she had a good job with shorter hours, she always returned home before him. Bitchy, dissatisfied and frustrated with their stale marriage. He gave her a brief peck on the cheek and put away his briefcase and raincoat.

What’s for dinner?

Nothing!

He looked at her in surprise. Barbara always prepared their evening meal, what was her beef this time, what was up?

What’s the matter, darling, is anything wrong?

Yes, it is. Gregory, we’ve been married for seven years, every evening you come home an hour after me, we do the same boring things. Then we watch TV and go to bed. I’m fed up Greg, it’s just not good enough. I want something more out of my life, not this endless, boring grind. Anyway, how is it that you work longer hours than me and earn half as much money?

How indeed? It was true, she was some kind of a financial wizard, she worked for a major investment bank and took home more than twice his salary. Then there were the regular bonuses that made it even more. He’d obviously got onto the wrong career track and he didn’t know how to get off.

I want to go on a holiday, she continued.

Can you get the time off work? he asked, stalling for time.

Of course I can, I’m not in some crap job where they treat me like a servant. What about a week in London?

That’ll be expensive, Barbara.

I can afford it, I earn a good salary.

The implication of course that he was the poor relation. Which in some respect was true, but what was a guy to do? She didn’t have to keep rubbing it in. Sometimes he thought her intention was to humiliate him, to emasculate him. There was something of the sadist about Barbara.

It was early evening when they arrived at the Parkside Hotel, a short walk from Central London, for the start of their week’s holiday. It was a five star hotel with polished wood paneling, thick carpets and gleaming brass fittings. The uniformed receptionist took their details.

You have room 509, that’s on the fifth floor of course. I’ll get someone to take up your cases.

No, that’s ok, I can manage, Greg said quickly. He wasn’t used to five star service.

Leave it, Greg, we’ll have the cases taken up. She turned to the man. That would be fine, thank you.

A porter in a smart uniform arrived, picked up their cases and led them to the elevator. Inside the room, Barbara tipped him, she was used to these things, then they were alone. The room was large, very spacious, beautifully furnished with an ensuite bathroom. Greg admired it.

Yes, it’s nice when you have money, isn’t it Greg, you can get all the good things in life.

He made no reply. There was nothing he could say, she’d been making cracks about his low wages for so long he was almost immune to them. Almost. They still hurt, just a little.

It’s Saturday night, let’s go out and see a show, Barbara said. Get yourself showered and changed and we’ll see what the West End has to offer.

Two hours later they were in a sleazy cabaret club, it was very hot and noisy. Barbara had insisted they go in to see the show. I’ve always wanted to see one of these, it’s a drag show, it’ll be fun.

He wasn’t so sure. What was fun about seeing men in frocks with too much makeup? But as always, he agreed with her, anything to keep her happy. Halfway through the evening he was startled when Barbara abruptly said, You know, I’ve been thinking, you’d be good at this, Greg. You’d look good in a frock, you know, all made up with a wig and everything. After all, you’re quite petite for a man, aren’t you?

Another of her cracks. Ok, she a was an inch or two taller than him, and he was not really well built, not for a man. But still, he got by.

She grinned at his horrified expression. False boobs and all, can you imagine it?

No, he couldn’t and he put her right straight away.

Not in a million years, Babs, no. They look awful, these women. I mean, men. Really gruesome.

That’s a pity, Greg. In the second half they have an amateur spot where members of the audience can try it out, you know, get dressed up and join the chorus on the stage. I’ve put your name down to join in.

You what?

Of course. Look, this is a once in a lifetime break for us and a chance for you to get away from that low paid drudgery. After all, I paid for it, the least you can do is enjoy it.

Absolutely not, Barbara. No!

Mr. Greg Watson?

Yes?

He looked up, two beautiful young women were standing next to his seat.

You’re on next for the start of the second part of the evening. You know, the amateur show, come with us and we’ll get you fixed up.

Christ, no, Barbara, tell them I won’t do it.

She smiled. You’re making yourself look stupid and petty, Greg. Just go with them and do what they say. Be a man for once.

Her smile broadened as she realized what she’d said. He was terrified, but he allowed himself to be pulled out of his seat and through the club to the backstage dressing rooms.

In there, love, the dresser will sort you out.

He realized that the beautiful young women were in fact men, the only giveaway was their deep voices. He sat in the dressing room and waited, feeling like a condemned man. Hanging would be better than this.

Take off all your clothes, dear, I’ll fix you up with a frock.

He looked up, another beautiful young woman had arrived