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THE SCHOOL BELL "Don't tell me you wouldn't like to do it?" Wendy Masters asked her husband Victor a question. "You know I would really, but it might turn out to be so terribly embarrassing," he replied. Ever since he realised that he was becoming seriously in love with Wendy, and while they were still in university, Victor had been honest with her about his predilection for occasionally dressing as Violet, his feminine alter ego. To his great relief she found it amusing rather than a turn off. He had a tremendous sense of humour that made him fun to be with and she felt their sex life left nothing to be desired. His gentle and considerate nature ensured that she was always satisfied by the time she was ready for sleep. Victor had no need to work, the trust fund that his parents had set up before their untimely accidental death would support him for the rest of his life and Wendy had no hesitation when he popped the question while they were still in their early twenties. This discussion centred on an invitation they had received from her Aunt, to stay at her country house for the week that would start with a Halloween party. Wendy was offering him the chance to go to the party as Violet. "You know how close I've always been to Aunt Alice," Wendy told him "you know she was more like a mother to me. I have a confession to make. When you first told me about your secret hobby, I know I gave you the impression that I didn't have a problem with it, but I've always lead a rather sheltered life and didn't understand if there would be any negative repercussions. I couldn't think how I could find out about men like you, who wanted to dress, but them I thought of Aunt Alice, she's always been a woman of the world. I asked her about it in general terms, not mentioning you of course, but she guessed and told me that everything else being equal, I should take you on. She told me that you would have the sort of characteristics that I found you have. She said that you'd be gentle, considerate and loyal, and that's what I've discovered. So it's probably because of her that we're together. When she invited us she suggested that as you wouldn't know anyone there, so you could spend the whole time dressed up. So now what do you think?" "But of course I couldn't just go as your husband dressed as a woman, I would have to appear as a woman in fancy dress." He was trying to envisage a suitable costume. "Auntie had a suggestion, would you like to hear it?" "Of course I'll hear it, but it has to be a really good idea for me to go ahead." "I think it's a great idea for you Vic." His wife was grinning ear to ear. "She's had the idea that you don't go to the party at all, you would work as a maid." "What, if you aren't suggesting fancy dress, what are you suggesting?" "Auntie has a cook and when she entertains occasionally the cook's daughter waits on tables for her. Each year she dresses as a French maid for Halloween. What Auntie is suggesting is that you do the same in her place. Several of the guests are staying for the week, so she needs a maid all that time but cook's daughter is working at her proper job, so you could work instead of her. Auntie knows about such things and said that she thought you would enjoy it." Victor thought for a moment, suddenly becoming very aroused at the thought of being a maid for the week but unwilling to admit anything. "I'm not sure." The trouble was that he didn't want to seem too keen. "Oh come on Vic, you know it would be a dream come true for you. You can even change your voice quite convincingly, so you wouldn't be found out." "I must admit that it does hold a certain attraction." "You could go to the company that you know and have one of their temporary make-overs so that no one could see anything but a female maid." He had told Wendy about a company that, for a very high price, could make all but the butchest of men look like they'd been a woman all their lives, so much so that it would take a doctor to tell the difference. His main worry now was that if he had the makeover done as she said, they would both have to go without sex for the week. He had explained to her that it involved tucking his bits away so that they couldn't be used for intercourse, he couldn't remember how the subject had come up, but now it was of relevance. "What about us, for the whole week?" he asked with that in mind. "Oh, I can manage with something else for a while but I expect you to be very randy by the time the week's up." She laughed. Bearing in mind that he knew that they both had a high sex drive, but that she had several dildos to chose from, he acquiesced with more enthusiasm than he allowed to show. Halloween being on a Saturday night, he spent most of Friday on his makeover, coming home on Friday evening as an almost complete woman. They had pumped him up with inert liquids to give him modest 'B' cup breasts, with an effect similar to implants, the liquid would be absorbed over the period of a month or so, therefore not be so permanent. His 'bits' were neatly tucked away between his legs, stuck in place with medical adhesive, looking at first glance like a genuine vagina and of course his body was hair free. They even attached a little piece of cotton string to make it look as if he was a woman having her period. His face had a make up applied that would need a special solvent to remove, otherwise it would last for a month or more, looking perfect. The whole thing was quite uncomfortable and very expensive, but as it was a temporary measure he was prepared to put up with it for the sake of a very exciting week. He wore a baby doll nightie to bed and Wendy insisted that he go down on her and work her with his tongue for nearly an hour, something he found incredibly arousing and bringing her to a climax many times, but he had no way to satisfy himself. She had to caution him a couple of times, not to forget that he was wearing long false nails and to be careful with them in her sensitive areas. They got up early and travelled by helicopter from their city's heliport direct to Wendy's Aunt's estate. "Don't forget that Auntie is the only person there that is going to know that you're a man," Wendy explained. "We'll be there in plenty of time for you to get into character before other guests arrive. I won't treat you in any way different to Cook's daughter in previous years, neither will Auntie and you mustn't act in any way different to a humble servant. Never speak unless spoken to and ignore anything going on around you, remember it's none of your business how guests act." Dressed as he was in a simple, cheap dress, a light coat and scuffed three inch heels, he was positively squirming in his seat as he thought of what was ahead for him. The whole scenario was a dream he had wanted to experience many times. In order to keep up the pretence of him being an unconnected temporary employee, the helicopter was directed to land at the side of the house where it wasn't overlooked, Wendy walking round to the front door, he walking to the tradesman's entrance at the rear. The co-pilot carried Wendy's large suitcases, he carried his own meagre one. "You're late girl," the cook, a woman of about fifty, greeted him at the door. "I'm sorry, I was held up by a helicopter landing on the lawns." He noticed that it was not yet five past twelve and the time he was due. "My name is Mrs Ellis but just call me Cook, what do they call you?" "I'm Violet, Mrs Ellis, Violet Jones." "Alright Violet, let's take you to your room and get you properly dressed." Mary Ellis led him up a series of quite narrow stairs to the dizzy heights of the very top of four floors to a small attic room. She showed him the communal bathroom and the contents of a large wardrobe and an old heavy dark stained chest of drawers. "It's been explained to you that you're here to serve all Halloween week in costume, hasn't it?" "Yes Cook." "Well I'm afraid that it won't be very comfortable for you, these costumes were all bought with my daughter's measurements in mind and she's a bit smaller than you so I've arranged these so the dresses will fit better." She showed him a drawer with heavily boned corsets in it. His eyes bulged at the feminine garments. "Strip off girl and I'll show you how to put these on." Violet slipped out of all his clothes, glad of the incredible work of the make over. He stood with his arms raised as the woman wrapped one of the snow white corsets round his midriff, to do up the front busk with its row of heavy hooks and eyes. It didn't fall much below his waist, eight suspenders hung from it, but it was high enough to support his breasts, pushing them up with quarter cups in quite a spectacular fashion and making them look considerably bigger. "Before you tighten the corset, you should put on your stockings, shoes and panties Violet, once it's tightened it's not so easy to bend over." He expertly ran a pair of black seemed stockings up his legs and fastened them to the four suspenders on each side, slipped on a tiny g- string and then a pair of black shoes with five inch heels. He looked at the shoes and then Cook with surprise. "You were told that you had to wear a costume all week, weren't you? You're being paid four thousand and full board for eight days work so don't expect to have an easy time, will you?" The woman softened her tone. "I know it's hard dear, and you will have to put up with a lot but my daughter did it all with a smile on her face, well most of the time, so you can do the same. You may think that it's just the men that will be boisterous but she told me that the women are the worst to deal with, so be warned. If the Mistress sees you acting to please her guests, she'll give you a bonus as well, but don't let on that I told you. My daughter paid a good deposit on a house with what she earned here over the course of three years, it's not just Halloween you see." While she was talking she started to tighten the corset by the laces at the rear. "Now, you see that hook on the wall?" she explained. "Just back unto it, drop your laces over it, then lean forward. There, you feel how much tighter you can get it?" He wasn't allowed to let up until he was gasping for breath. "It will get easier each day, Dear, especially if you watch what you eat. I don't mean that unkindly, you have a well proportioned figure, but you could do with a little less round your middle." Violet caught a glimpse of himself in a full length mirror on the back of the bedroom door, it was as much as he could do not to gasp out loud. He looked incredible with his tiny panties, a mere triangle of material at the front, his narrow waist and his breasts, nipples hardened and clearly exposed by the quarter cup fitted bra. The only trouble was that his body was aching from the tight corset and his legs, ankles and feet were starting to hurt from the severe angle forced on them by the heels. Cook dragged him away from his reverie, helping him step into a tiny black satin dress with white lace decoration and crinolines sewn into the skirt. He buttoned it up the front to find it didn't quite cover all the areola of each nipple so he tried to pull it up. That only had the effect of revealing the front of his panties. "Stretch your arms out in front of you and lean forward Violet," he was instructed. Cook ran her hands over his exposed buttocks, making him shiver. "Perfect," she told him. "Now let's just put this on your head." She had him lean towards her while she pinned a tiny satin and lace cap with trailing black ribbons onto his hair. With him now described as 'properly dressed', not the words he would use, she led him back down to the kitchen. "It's time for you to serve lunch Violet. There's only two eating at the moment, the Mistress's niece is here, it was her arriving in that helicopter, if you've heard of such a thing. If you need to refer to them to anyone else call them Mistress Coombes and Miss Coombes for her niece, she was married but I understand they are separated at the moment. Unless you are told otherwise, speak to them using just Mistress and Madam but of course you shouldn't normally be speaking, just curtsey to acknowledge them." She loaded a large tray with two salmon salad lunches, an iced pitcher of water and a bottle of vintage Champagne in a cooler. "They are in the small dining room, that's the door to your right of the front door when you get to the entrance hall, I've already laid the table. Don't forget to knock on the door and wait to be told to enter, then curtsey and wait to be given instructions, then don't forget to curtsey on the way out." "Curtsey when I..." He was confused by all the instructions. "Going in, coming out and whenever you're spoken to, then you can't go far wrong," Cook explained to him, then made a sigh but smiled. "I don't know where you youngsters learn to be maids, it's certainly not like it was in my day." Carrying his large burden wasn't easy in the stupid heels he had on, but he found the door and placed the tray down on the table next to it, as Cook had told him earlier. He knocked on the door and waited nearly a minute before a voice he recognised as Aunt Alice told him to enter. He opened the door, then picked up the tray and carried it into their presence. He had only met Wendy's aunt once, at their wedding and he remembered a quiet, middle aged lady who didn't say a great deal. Now as he walked in he could almost feel her watching him and would have been overwhelmed by the time he curtseyed but for a suppressed giggle that burst out behind him. Knowing it was Wendy, he refused to be tempted to look at her, but waited for the instructions that were given him in a commanding tone. "Place the items on the table then stand behind my chair to wait on my wishes," she ordered. "You're new aren't you? What is your name girl?" "Violet Mistress." He curtseyed to another giggle from Wendy. "Well Violet, this is my niece and you will call her Miss Coombes, the other guests you will call the men Master, and the ladies Madam. Has Cook told you what we expect of you this week?" "Yes, a little Mistress." With another curtsey. "Well whatever she has told you, expect worse. If you feel that anything is too humiliating for you, be assured that I will make it ten times worse if you don't comply. You will do what a girl being paid at the rate of a whore is expected to do, short of actual procreative sex which is forbidden and you aren't capable of anyway, so that shouldn't bother you. Now pour us both some water while I open the Champagne." He was stunned but he did as he was told without question or even the opportunity to question what goes on at her parties. Twice during the course of their meal she indicated to top up drinks while the rest of the time the two women chatted as if he wasn't there. When he was finally allowed to remove the debris of the meal, he was just about to leave when the Aunt stopped him. I want your hair up tonight, my hairdresser will be here at five, have yours done first as you will be too busy later. He curtseyed for the umpteenth time and scurried back to the kitchen. "Cook, what exactly am I expected to do for the guests?" "Here Dear, eat something, we won't have a lot of spare time once the visitors get here." She took a big breath. "You haven't been told?" "Just that I was to be a maid for a week and had to wear some costumes." "Oh dear." She hesitated, then "In short you have to do whatever you're told. Some of it's demeaning, some things hurt a bit, but you're being paid to take whatever's thrown at you. I'm afraid that some of the guests aren't very nice, not all of them, just some. My advice is just to think of the money at the end and if anyone does anything really nasty, the Mistress will give you a bit extra." Of course the last thing that Violet was bothered about was the money, but he couldn't explain that to Cook. He ate some of the sandwich she had made, but was so worried he couldn't finish it. At five o'clock on the dot the hairdresser, a nice and very efficient lady called June arrived. Cook came up to his bedroom with them, to change his dress, hose and shoes for ones in a purple colour and the little matching cap that was worked into his hair. June over-coloured his lips from their normal bright red to a plum colour. Likewise his false nails were removed and even longer ones, extending nearly an inch beyond his fingers were glued on and painted to match his lips. He was horrified to find that the new shoes were even higher than the black ones and were locked onto his ankles. "Be careful of those nails," June warned him. "Your real nails will pull out before those will come off, I'll be back on Monday morning to take them off and replace with the same length as your old ones." After June left to get on with his wife's and her aunt's hair, he returned, slowly and carefully in the shoes, to the kitchen. There he found that two men had joined her and a mountain of food, already laid out on decorative trays were being unloaded and were covering every surface in the large room. "Come with me Violet," Cook told him. He helped her lay out a huge buffet table at one end of what the cook referred to as the 'Banqueting Hall'. Plates were piled up and sets of cutlery wrapped in luxurious white Irish linen serviettes laid ready for picking up. At the opposite end of the room, a quartet was unpacking and tuning up their instruments and about twenty tables, with from two to eight seats round each were round the side walls. The centre of the room was obviously cleared for dancing. Another table set to one side of the buffet was laid out with drinks, more than a hundred glasses and on the floor was an eight feet long by three feet wide trough half filled with ice. A third man was continuing to fill it with bottles of Champagne. As he watched the man told him that there were more bottles of Champagne and filled ice buckets in the kitchen, for when the ones on the table melted. Preparations went on for some time but it was eight o'clock when the first guests started to arrive. It was Violet's job to greet them at the door with a glass of Champagne and he was amazed at the selection of expensive cars they arrived in. Some were chauffeur driven limousines, others were in what he knew were called 'super-cars'; Bugattis, Lamborghinis, Bentleys, the Mercedes and Porches were the cheap end of the market by comparison. Nearly everyone, including the women, returned his greeting with a leer at his body. "I like the look of the fresh meat tonight." He heard one man say to another. He tried to ignore the meaning of such a comment, but he had an ominous feeling. The guests varied in age from mid twenties to some of them appearing to be approaching eighty but sprightly nevertheless. There also seemed to be a higher proportion of men. During a return trip to the kitchen to get a clean serving tray, some drink had spilled on the one he had, he asked Cook why there were so many men. "Don't worry Violet, the numbers will equal up more when the entertainers arrive." He didn't have time to ask about that as he had to hurry back for more arrivals. He lost track of numbers but guessed that there were something like eighty persons present. He was told by one of the men running a message that he should then start to circulate among the throng with second drinks and was just going back to the hall when he heard a disturbance. There was a cheer and through a door at the back of the hall came a line of girls dressed in the same French maids' costumes as his but theirs were just black and white. Men were stepping forward and taking the girls by the arm to steer them over to their tables. He was soon rushing to serve them all more Champagne. At that point the quartet, who had been playing some innocuous background tunes, suddenly changed tempo and dance music flooded the room. For the first time that evening he saw Wendy and her aunt sat at a table for four with two men, all chatting away. He would have been jealous but he didn't have time, he was too busy serving the drinks. By now some guests wanted something other than the Champagne, several opting for scotch or Cognac, only one or two asking for beer. As the drinks flowed so did the lewd comments in his direction and it was slowly dawning on him that the French maids were in fact on the game. There was a steady stream of couples going up the stairs, returning some time later looking very dishevelled. About ten the food was either served by the maids or taken as self service by some of the guests. Several times he looked over to his wife's table, only to find that she was on the dance floor with what seemed to be a different man each time. By midnight the party was in full swing, perhaps what he, in his Victor persona might have called 'out of control'. Drunken revellers were everywhere and he was increasingly being assaulted. It had started about ten, but by twelve no one was being subtle about it. It wasn't easy to deal with the pinches and gropes, but later he was being pulled onto men's, and some women's laps and having their tongues forced down his throat. This was not what he'd signed up for, but couldn't see a means of escape. Finally he saw Wendy sat at her table with just two men for company, there was no sign of her aunt. He made his way over as quickly as he could, weaving through the drunken revellers. "Err, Miss Coombes, could I have a word?" He spoke as quietly and as close to her ear as he could. At that point someone bumped him from behind and some of the Champagne in the bottle he was holding spilt on the trousers of the man closest to her. "You clumsy cow!" he yelled. Then he stood up and shouted at the top of his voice, "The school bell! Where's the school bell?" Violet was baffled by his response and even more so when the dancing crowds parted and they all started to call for the school bell. The man, someone called him Stuart, caught him by the arm and dragged him into the middle of the dance floor. The crowd formed a large circle round them, everyone at the back craning their necks to see. Someone passed Stuart an old fashioned brass hand bell of the type Violet could remember being used to call pupils in from breaks in the playground. It was large and the wooden handle must have been at least ten inches tall. "Take the handle in both hands, one above the other and hold it out vertically with the bell at the bottom, hanging down in front of you bitch," he ordered. "Lean forward." Suddenly Violet remembered Cook making him lean forward with his arms out when he was first fitted with his uniform, so he knew that his backside was completely exposed, but he was still baffled as to what was going on. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw someone hand Stuart a cane. It was long and whippy and he tested it in the air next to Violet so he heard the ominous whistling noise it made. "Have you had the school bell before girl?" the man asked him. "No Sir." He started to shake. "Well it's quite simple." He was speaking to the crowd as much as Violet. "You are going to be taught discipline. For spilling a drink on me you are going to receive twelve strokes of the cane. You will count off each stroke and at twelve I will stop. However, if you move and I hear the bell ring, you start from number one again, is that clear?" "Yes Sir, please don't." It was a waste of his breathe. The first stroke hit him and he'd never known such pain. He'd never been caned before, being a good lad, and the first time resulted in him screaming and falling on the floor. "I think this is going to take some time," Stuart said in a loud voice and everyone creased up with laughter. "Get up or I'll hit you until you do." He slowly and painfully got to his feet and held the bell out. This time he managed not to fall, but the bell rang loudly. The next time he managed to shout "one" but the bell still rang. It wasn't until the fifth strike that he managed to hold the bell still. He had counted successfully to five when a blow landed on a previous place. The bell rang and he had to start again. Tears were pouring down his face and it took several attempts to get started again as he was shaking so much. Almost as upsetting as the pain was the laughter of the crowd, spurred on by him crying and failing to hold steady. He could even see his wife to his front and slightly off to one side with a man holding her round her waist as they both laughed at him. He never did get to twelve, although he did manage nine once, but then Stuart claimed his arm was getting tired so he handed the cane to someone else. With the renewed vigour of the next blow he failed to control himself and he was back at one. He lost track of what was happening and how many changes of torturer there were, but inevitably he succumbed and passed out. They carried him over to the drinks table and dropped him into the icy water in the trough. It brought him round in an instant. When he woke his suffering wasn't over. He couldn't believe anyone could be so cruel. He was tied, soaking wet over a table, flat on his front, wrists and ankles tied to the four corner legs and with a ring pushed in and secured between his teeth holding his mouth open. He lay there for quite a while with the party going on round him and no one taking much notice. He guessed that it was late as the quartet had been replaced by a disc jockey. He was just starting to dose when a woman's voice surprised him. "Oh look darling, the slut's awake. Let's use her to wake you up." His limited vision showed him that the woman had pulled her male companion round to his face. She unzipped him and pushed his flaccid penis into Violet's undefended mouth. To his relief, as soon as he became hard the woman dragged him away, telling him that they would now make use of it in bed. He was just thinking how he had a lucky escape, when he heard Stuart's unmistakable voice. "Hey the slut's awake, I bet she's just ready for some fun now. Alice has ordained that her pussy's out of bounds, but there other opportunities." The speaker and several of his friends gathered round and to add to his pain he was raped anally and orally by countless men at each, over the next hours. With the sun well above the horizon, someone untied him and helped him into the kitchen where Cook waved some smelling salts under his nose. She took him up to his bedroom and helped him into the shower, drying him afterwards. She then laid him face down on the bed and rubbed salve into his wounded behind. After getting into a clean set of clothes, pink this time with white lace trim and pink accessories, she gave him a pair of full rumba panties to replace his string. "They don't like to be reminded of what they've done in the cold light of dawn," she told him. "You can't rest I'm afraid, you have to serve some of the breakfasts to them in bed." She took him down to the kitchen and first gave him the Aunt's breakfast, plus one, and directed him to her bedroom. The couple were only just stirring in bed and were too hung over to make conversation with each other, let alone him. "Take these to the bedroom just one door on from the Mistress's," Cook told him when he returned and gave him two more breakfasts. He arrived at the appointed door and knocked, after three or four minutes he knocked again but louder. This time a male voice told him to enter. He got the worst shock of his life. A naked man was just getting out of bed and told him to put the breakfast on the small table under the window, which he did. Then he recognised the man as the one who had his arm round Wendy's waist while he was being thrashed. He picked up the glass decanter of iced orange juice and carried it round to the other side of the bed, pulled back the clothes and saw his naked wife laying there. He had every intention of throwing the liquid over her but couldn't. Instead he turned and threw it over the man. In spite of the noise that followed, she didn't wake, but the man grabbed him and goose marched him out of the room and down the corridor, banging on another door. Stuart came to the door looking surprisingly wide awake. "This bitch has just thrown juice over me, I think she wants the school bell again." "Good God!" Stuart exclaimed. "She obviously enjoyed it. You take her downstairs, I'll get the others." Violet was half pushed, half carried back down the stairs to the hall but the bell was nowhere to be seen. Stuart and two others joined him but one of them said that the bell had been put back in the library the previous evening. Instead of fetching it they took him there, one of the men commenting that it was soundproofed so they wouldn't wake the house. In the event, they didn't bother with the bell, they stripped his panties off and used cable ties that they found on an unused computer table to secure Violet to it then took turns to cane him again. Almost immediately, after the first strokes of terrible pain, he drifted into that area of unconsciousness that made him appear awake but he had no sensations arriving at his brain. His lack of reaction just made them madder and renewed their efforts. It was only when the flow of blood ran down his legs and began to soak into the carpet that they decided he'd had enough. They untied him, pulled his panties back on and left him sitting insensible on a library chair. It wasn't until two in the afternoon that he was found by Aunt Alice. At first she thought he had sneaked away from the work and gone to sleep. It wasn't until she tried to wake him that she realised that he wasn't conscious so she called Cook. At that point they noticed all the blood. It ran from a pool by her new computer table to the chair where they saw to their horror that it was so drenched that it was dripping through the underside of the seat onto the floor. Aunt Alice called her own doctor who immediately arranged for an ambulance to take Violet to a private clinic where he remained unconscious for three days. For virtually every hour of those days Wendy sat by his bedside. She remembered little of the party. She never could hold her drink well, and all the time Violet was being beaten, she saw everyone laughing and just thought he couldn't keep his balance. She had no idea that it was hurting him that much and she was certainly not aware of the second beating or the reason for it. Once Violet was sufficiently awake to ask her about the man in her bed, she claimed no knowledge of him "Anyway," she told him, "I knew that things might get a little out of hand, so I used the same trick as we arranged for you. I had a tampon in place and it was still there the next morning, so I know nothing happened." At first Wendy and Alice were both intent on passing the whole thing on to the police so the perpetrators could be arrested. Violet counselled that it would be just as embarrassing for him as them. Alice reluctantly suggested that instead she had them blackballed in the society circles in which they moved. They all agreed that it wasn't really sufficient punishment but under the circumstances it was the best they could do. Alice arranged for June to come in with the intention of removing his make up, but in the event she ended up doing a nice feminine job on his hair and getting him a decent dress to wear. Cook was let into his secret so that he could stay with them in future in Violet mode and by the following week that was what he did. "I thought that you were too nice and too innocent to be the type of woman you were supposed to be," Cook commented when she saw him and laughed. "One thing I don't understand," Violet said to Alice one day. "How come you've had a game called 'school bell' anyway?" "We had a contact with a BDSM group last year, but they controlled it so no on got seriously hurt, they even used a soft paddle, not a cane, so that there wasn't any physical damage to the victim. The subjects were entirely willing, the whole thing was treated just like a game. Unfortunately someone brought that cane, but it was never used because it was too damaging. I was in bed by the time they started on you, so I didn't know anything about it. Wendy stayed with her Aunt many times over the following years, each time accompanied by either Victor or Violet but the incident was deliberately wiped from their minds and never referred to again. The only thing they didn't do was to attend another of her parties. She also got rid of the school bell.