Humiliating Kirsten
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My Working Life (Humiliating Kirsten 3) free porn video
MY WORKING LIFE
I'm sitting here, waiting for Pippa to arrive for our shopping trip.
Which I am dreading. I don't know why she's late, or what she has in
store. Knowing Pippa, I'm sure I won't get away with choosing a few Blu-
rays and then heading for home to watch a movie. So I'm just passing
time. I can hear my wife on the phone downstairs to her closest, best
friend, but it's only one side of the conversation.....undecipherable
snippets like "Oh, she'll love that", "That's going to be so cute," and
"I'll see you in a little while."
It's my day off work. I don't get many of those, anymore.
I used to be a manager in an Argos store. A big retail chain across the
UK. Lots of unpaid OT. An extremely unfair balance of life and work. My
wife used to send me off in my panties, but was always disappointed she
couldn't do more to me.
I spoke to her about changing jobs and we decided we could afford the
leap to get more time together. So for the last half a year I've been
working at a garden centre. Working four days on, four days off. I don't
see too many customers in my section (designing summer houses), so my
wife saw it as a great opportunity to further her games.
For the last six months I've come to work wearing panties and a bra, and
girly socks. Now the winter months are closing in, she's switched the
socks to tights and instructed that I have to remove my shoes when I'm in
the office. Which is quite scary because when I am with customers I do
have to stand and shake their hands, see them out........All they have to
do is look down and see my toes in the delightful fabric. It's not too
bad when the tights are opaque, but sometimes they are 15 or even 10
denier.
She also added a lacey vest or camisole to my underwear. So sometimes
I'll have to catch myself from adjusting my straps if people are around.
Sometimes I do it for fun when I am near customers. Occasionally I open
my shirt a button lower, just enough to show a hint of lace or bra.
She's acknowledged that she can't go to extremes while she has to protect
my employment. She won't send me in dresses or skirts, but I do have to
wear women's trousers which have a different fit to men's clothing so
even though it doesn't sound like much it is a constant reminder of who I
am and what is happening to me. She won't send me in high heels, but has
instructed me to find an appropriate pair of women's shoes as long as I
am there. And I'm not allowed to wear acrylic nails at the moment, which
bums me out a little bit because I do enjoy having them despite the
embarrassment. My nails are painted clear, and on my day off cycle our
first stop is Heather's Salon for acrylics and hair.
And my diary for customer appointments, work events, etc, is nice and
floral. Pink trim on the pages and a butterfly motif. I've lost track of
the amount of comments I've received from customers about my 'masculine'
dairy, how 'pretty it is'.
Sometimes my hair is in a bob, sometimes a pixie cut. Whatever she
decides that week. And I try to brush it off when people joke, but I
wonder should I just start accepting what is happening. I do enjoy all
the feminine finery in life. I love wearing jewellery when I drive to and
from work. A couple of rings, a bracelet, clip-on earrings (for now, I've
been told). My hair, the clothes and make-up. I love it all.
For a while, Maggie has been looking for work for me dressed. More
fitting to my wife status. And with the two interviews I've recently had
she believes she's made a breakthrough. And then, of course, there's
this:
My work as a maid, even though unpaid, has increased dramatically, as her
close circle of friends aware of her games has grown. I used to help one
of her friends, once a month. But now, to accommodate everyone, I must
work a minimum of one day a week in my maid's uniform. To keep everyone
happy as I cycle through a make-shift rotation I sometimes work two or
three days.
Cindy is my favorite. She has always kept things friendly, even though
she does like her tricks. The others are quite strict about my work and
boss me about a lot. It's a role they are getting used to. Cindy likes to
chat while I work, and keeps things real. There's never really been
anything fake about her.
Of course, Pippa is the worst. I hate it. And never know what is going to
happen. I've only visited her home twice, and each time she has insisted
I arrive dressed in my maid uniform (that sweet, sexy Ann Summers
number), whereas the others allow me to change when I arrive. The work is
okay, but it's what she does. The first time she deliberately invited
friends outside of our circle for drinks. I had to answer the door and
curtsey each time the bell rang. From their reactions I couldn't tell
whether they knew I was going to be present or not. I honestly don't
think they were as Pippa continually used phrases like 'Oh, don't mind
the maid'.
I served them tea and biscuits and inevitably they started to ask
questions. I had to stand and explain myself while they giggled and
laughed. Some of them asked to spank me and Pippa consented. I had to
lower my panties and show them my small clit. Which was awful because I
was on my period and they saw my panty-liner.
"Oh, does he wear a tampon, too?" one of them exclaimed.
Pippa grinned knowingly and opened my handbag. She pulled one out.
The woman actually clapped as she cried: "Delightful!"
I'd say I've never blushed so red, but truth be told over the last
several months I probably have.
That might sound bad, but consider this. Two days ago I was at Pippa's
for the second time. I worked on my chores. Typical stuff: ironing,
dishes, laundry....she instructed me to hand-wash all her delicates, but
mostly left me alone.
Then the doorbell rang. I looked to her, hoping she would not have me
answer it. She merely nodded and I walked nervously to the door,
wondering who it might be. I opened it to her boyfriend, the co-pilot
from my flight to America. He'd seen me then in a flight attendant's
uniform, but this just cracked him up. He burst into laughter at the
sight of Pippa's maid as I curtsied and brushed by me.
They retired to the bedroom and I thought I was going to escape without
further humiliation. But just as my shift was nearly over Pippa called
out and I was summoned to the bedroom.
I was instructed to remove my maid's uniform. Then I was to stand and
watch in my panties, bra, suspenders, stockings and heels as they had
sex. Even in the throes of passion, Pippa kept looking at me, smiling,
occasionally winking. She was playing with him, like she was playing with
me. Unknowing to the co-pilot, she grinned at me as she faked her orgasm.
Pippa is one cruel bitch and has quickly become my nemesis in all this.
He withdrew and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was so big. My own
tiny clit tried to get hard at the sight of his giant, dribbling erection
and dripping juices oozing from her, but it felt so inadequate, barely
tenting in my soft, lace panties.
Pippa laughed at it and looked at me expectantly. I didn't know what to
do as the man stepped away from the bed, his penis still strong and big.
Pippa moved to the edge of the bed.
"You might not have your uniform on, but you're still my maid. Clean me
now."
I kneeled down, but she shook her head.
"On all fours. I've got a surprise for you."
She giggled as a damp spot appeared on my panties and I went down before
her, licking cum from her thighs, finding her sweet spot with my tongue.
I started to enjoy myself, tasting her lovely juices mixed with his cum
when suddenly-
I felt my panties being pulled to my ankles.
I tried to turn, but Pippa held my head strong. My face was buried in her
pussy and I tried to cry out, tried to shout no as I felt his still hard
penis probing at my butt. He was massaging himself in my crack. He didn't
enter, but it was a horrible taste of what could happen.
"Please don't," I managed to cry out.
I could feel a fresh, final spurt of his cum dribble over my ass. He held
my hips and pretended to push and heave. Pippa burst into giggles as I
closed my eyes and continued to eat her out. I felt my own orgasm begin.
Couldn't hold it as he slapped my butt and stepped away, laughing. My
sperm sprayed out, soaking through my panties and dripping onto the
carpet.
Pippa sat up as my spasms ended. "Jesus, Kirsten, can't you control
yourself."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"Just get a cloth."
I stood and Pippa smiled.
"There's no time. Just get down there."
I scooped my cum from the carpet and from my soaked panties, looking for
somewhere to wipe it off. I knew what Pippa wanted to see, and again,
there was that cruel nod. A look. Enough to tell me I knew better.
I slowly began to eat my own cum from my palm, and then suck it from my
fingers.
"That better not stain," Pippa said, indicating the carpet.
God, it was frightening how quickly things were moving. I don't know who
I am, what I enjoy. But I was on a bullet train moving at the speed of
light from willingly giving a handjob, and enjoying doing it, to the
possibility of giving oral sex, and suddenly finding myself.....well,
despite some fantasies, that's something I had not considered. But if
I've talked about anal penetration with my wife, could that actually be
far behind?
So, I work as a maid on a variety of days, doing a real variety of tasks.
Of course, I'm still writing. My manager is currently marketing one of my
scripts. No sale yet, but we've been getting great feedback. Maybe I'll
get that break soon, but even that worries me as I think about the
clauses that were put in my contract after she met me. How can I ever
meet movie executives and producers as a......not merely a cross-dresser,
anymore........as a sissy? There, I can say it. Might not believe it with
all my heart, but..........Am I a sissy, or is it something even more? It
seems through all my life I've been taking steps towards a goal I still
can't see. What is beyond these games? Something more permanent.
I think about that. What it would mean to me and those around me, those
closest. What they might say if I actually dared to mention
transitioning. Is that a part of Maggie's game? Would I do it? I have
sacred childhood memories that have been rising within me: of wishing I
was a girl, wondering why I was trapped in a boy's body. I was
circumcised when I was little, and because I was going to be operated on
my private parts, I was convinced that everything was going to be fixed,
that my parents were going to put things right. I was finally going to be
a real girl. Of course, that didn't happen, and I was heartbroken, crying
for months until I finally realised nobody knew what had happened to me
and that I was going to have to be a man all my life.
And now these games were happening and I was becoming more open to
possibilities, but at the same time more confused and scared about who I
was.
I bet you didn't know you were going into therapy when you started this
story.
Anyway, my wife and Pippa set up two job interviews for me. So, if you
want to meet me at the garden centre and have a giggle at my mildly
feminised state you best hurry as I won't be there much longer.
The first interview was with Heather at her salon. I didn't know the
position so I arrived classily dressed. A nice suit, and heels. Bag on my
shoulder. I was trying to portray a professional woman. I was a
professional woman. I had the outfit. My make-up looked appropriate and
natural. My hair......Considering where I was interviewing at, I'd spent
ages teasing my hair into a pleasing shape. I'd worked at home as my
wife's secretary for long enough that I could pull that look off.
When I entered the salon Heather, Jo and Tina all laughed.
I stopped, dismayed.
"No, no," Heather said quickly, putting me at ease. "You look beautiful,
Sweetie. But what position do you think you're interviewing for?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "I don't know anything about hair, so I figured
you needed some help in the office, perhaps."
"Office?" Heather grinned.
Jo smiled. "You've seen Tina's room when you've been in for your nails?"
I nod.
"Well, there's a break room back there," she continued. "And a rest-room.
We don't have an office, Honey."
"God, she's so precious," Tina smiled at my confusion.
"But-" I began.
"The position," Heather explained, nice and slowly to be sure I grasped
it, "is for an errand girl."
I blanked. Not even sure I'd heard her right.
"A shampoo girl," Jo grinned. "You'll be washing our clients hair,
getting them ready for us. Maybe making them a drink."
"But I graduated university-"
"Well, what use is that here if you don't know how to cut hair? But don't
worry, once you settle in we'll start to teach you and you can help out
even more."
"But-"
"It's not just washing hair," Jo informed me. "We always need somebody to
nip to the shops. Pick things up. We're all on different cycles so
several times a month you can buy our hygiene products."
I baulked at the idea.
"You'll also be brushing the floor regularly. That's a full time job
right there."
"Wait. Back up. I can't go to the shops here. We're right near town.
People might see me."
"That's part of your job description," Heather told me, quite sternly.
"Maggie specifically said you need to start getting outside closer to
home. She thought this would be a good start and I do agree. Besides, you
don't even have the job yet. Step through to my office."
She led me to the break room and had me make her a cup of coffee.
"Good start," she smiled.
The interview went well. Being good neighbors for years, we got along. It
was more of a pleasant chat. She asked how I was doing, was impressed
that I was fitting into my role well and coping with the humiliations,
some of which she had been a part of.
"And I'll be part of future one's, too," she grinned. "I love watching
you squirm. Which brings me to your uniform."
"I've got the job!" I suddenly exclaimed, surprised by my own excitement.
"Do you actually think I was interviewing other girls?" she laughed.
"You're so sweet, Kirsten. I'm going to love having you around here."
"I think what I'm wearing is quite-" I began.
Heather shook her head. "You do look pretty, but it's entirely
inappropriate. Your wife had me commission something special just for
you. It's in that box over there. Once you are changed just pop out so we
can get a good look at you."
She left. I walked to the box, aware that I was taking small lady-like
steps naturally. I peeked inside and-
-my stomach flipped. How the hell was I supposed to wear this? Be a
woman, Maggie constantly told me. Even when dressed in jeans or trousers.
Be the woman you are. But how could I be a woman wearing this? I pulled
the clothes from the box. All I could do was adapt to the role they
expected......But what would they do to me if I didn't pull it off.
A few minutes later I emerged from the break room with a giggly, "Hi,
girls!"
"Holy shit!" Jo exclaimed. "He's actually wearing it."
"She's wearing it," Heather quickly corrected.
I hesitated, Jo's exclamation immediately breaking the illusion and
belief I had built up in the break room. What was I doing here? I'm a
man. How can I be wearing this? I genuinely was trying to believe, but it
was so easy for the spell to be broken.
"Don't worry. You look great," Jo assured me. "First day jitters. That's
all you've got."
I caught my reflection in a mirror. My hair and make-up looked great. My
smooth stockinged legs quite hot in the high heels that accentuated my
calves. And then there was the short, pink skirt, pleated and flaring out
in an A-line effect. And the tight, fitted T-shirt that was scooped out
and sure did show off my cleavage. It was also pink, matching the skirt,
and emblazoned across the front in a large, glitter font:
Heather's Girl
My second interview was at the Riverside Inn. Pippa set that up. We'd
eaten there a few weeks earlier and our waitress, Charlotte, had made
sure I had special dressings on my salad and desert. She had really
gotten into what Pippa was doing.
Apparently Pippa had popped in to let Charlotte know she wanted to bring
me in to eat again. Charlotte had been promoted. She was now supervising
the part-time team. Pippa had asked if she needed any extra staff, and
Charlotte, knowing where Pippa was going, had told her she would have to
speak with her boss.
Pippa had gotten the call a few days later. I had to go and interview for
the position. Her boss didn't want to be seen as prejudiced or bigoted
and was basically protecting his own ass by giving me a chance. He didn't
care for me one way or the other. If I was successful I was to work
directly under Charlotte..........Which I was dreading as it had quickly
become apparent that she and Pippa had taken a shine to each other when
they met at the restaurant and humiliated me.
This interview went well. I dressed for the part. Looked good enough that
the boss didn't even realise I was the man (not that I see myself that
way, some days) coming in for the waitress position. I had on stockings
and suspenders, a really cute matching bra and pantie set that helped me
feel good and confident, black pencil skirt and a sheer, white blouse.
Heels of course. Make-up quite hot to help with the tips, and hair cute
as a button.
At the end of the interview, Charlotte offered me the job on the spot.
"Want to celebrate?" she said.
"That would be nice," I nodded, starting to relax.
She left for a moment. We were just two girls. Throughout the interview
we had talked about job skills, but also make-up, magazines, television,
clothes, accessories We got on really well. Sure, she was my new boss,
but she didn't see me as a man dressed up. It felt great. She saw me as a
woman.
Charlotte returned with two soda floats.
"It's been years since I've had one of these," she said, giving them both
a final stir. She handed me mine, which looked different. Before I could
comment she said: "It's just a different flavor of ice cream. I wasn't
sure which you'd like."
I tasted it. There was a familiar hint to it, the soda throwing it off
slightly. But it was nice. Very yummy.
"Do you like it?" Charlotte asked.
I nodded eagerly, eating it quite quickly. It was a taste I was becoming
addicted to, but I couldn't quite place it.
"Remember your special salad that the chef made just for you a few weeks
back?"
I hesitated. Slowed down on the tasty drink. My stomach turned.
"I asked him to make your a very special float," she grinned.
I stopped eating. My hand trembled.
"Oh, go on, girl," Charlotte encouraged. "You know you love it. So please
don't offend him. You never know, he might treat you once in a while once
you're on the team."
I slowly devour the last of the drink and wipe his juice from my lips. I
freshen my lipstick.
"Thank you, Miss Charlotte," I said. "Please tell the chef I loved it."
She bursts out laughing. "We're going to have so much fun!"
That was a few days ago. My first shift is next week. The same week I
start at Heather's Salon. I'm real busy these days. Something has to
give. I asked my wife if I could drop one of the new jobs and she merely
smiled, handing me a letter she had typed.
It was my resignation from the garden centre. I sighed deeply.
"Don't do this," I begged her.
"It will be great. Now you don't have to worry about hiding what you
wear. You're hair can look great all the time. You can have your nails
done as often as you like." Maggie smiled at me. "By as often as you
like, I mean, you'll have your nails done all the time."
The door bell rang, breaking my reverie at the computer, and I listen to
the voices downstairs.
Maggie: "You're late. It's nearly lunchtime."
Pippa: "Don't worry. I've made some special plans for her."
Maggie: "Nothing too harsh."
Pippa: "Maggie, please. We're besties forever, and I know, at the end of
the day, Kirsten's your girl. I'd never hurt her."
Maggie: "I thought you'd be out earlier."
Pippa: "You asked me to punish her remember. For the time she posted that
story late. So, it's late night for Christmas shopping. I just wanted
time for it to get nice and busy. I'm going to have so much fun with
her."
I close my door for a second. What was she going to do to me? I started
to lock into the feminine part of my mind. I am a woman, I told myself. I
am a woman. But how could I believe that in this man's body? And while I
was in this man's body, whatever Pippa did would humiliate me regardless
of what I believed inside.
"Kirsten, come on down," my wife called. "Pippa's here."
I hesitated at the door.
"Hurry up, girl," Pippa added. "It's time to go shopping."
Maddy
- 25.05.2021
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