Dominic’s Sissy Maid Training


By Gungeslut



The door was slammed shut behind him as he walked into the changing room.

“You’re not coming out till you’ve changed. The mistress likes all her maids to be properly dressed for duty.”

Dominic heard the bolts drawn across the door and the tap-tap of high-heeled footsteps as the receptionist went back to her desk giggling all the way. On the peg in front of him was a maid’s outfit. He wasn’t even sure if he knew how to put it all on. He quickly pulled off his T-shirt and undid his belt. As he did this he heard a sound of wood sliding against wood. A pair of dark brown eyes was looking him up and down from a hole in the wall.

“Don’t stop, take your jeans off. Hmmmmmm, hairy legs. Never mind we can always wax them another time. Get your boxers off too maids don’t wear boxer shorts. Put the stockings on first, then the suspenders, and then the knickers. You have 5 more minutes”

The panel slid closed and Dominic fumbled with the stockings. He had vague memories of girls putting on tights and used his thumbs to gather the stocking up then pushed his toe into the end. As he pulled it up his leg he noticed a huge run up the side. Mistress would not be pleased. He put the other stocking on and tried to get to grips with the suspender belt. It had fastenings just like a bra so putting it round his waist was easy. Attaching the suspenders to the stockings was a little more difficult though. He had to stretch into some very unflattering positions. Was it his imagination or did he hear laughter? Looking round he saw nothing but was sure he heard a panel sliding. How many of the viewing panels were there and who watched from them? Next he reached for the knickers. They were white satin with row upon row of lace sown across the back. He put them on and looked in the mirror. This time he definitely heard feminine giggles.


“Does my bum look big in this?” it sounded like the receptionists voice but the giggling was coming from several other girls he hadn’t seen. He then reached for the dress pulling it on over his head. As he did this a button popped lose. Lastly he put on the apron. It was a tiny bit of sheer material with frilly lace all around the outside. He had no idea how to put the doily thing on his head so he picked it up and waited.

The door opened and mistress stood framed in the bright light. It knee high boots with 7-inch heels she stood almost 6 foot 5 inches tall. She was wearing a red satin corset with black laces and black leather hot pants.

 “I see you’ve turned up for work incorrectly dressed. You will have to be disciplined. Come here. “

Mistress stands before the whipping bench. Gingerly he walks up to it.


As he kneels Mistress snatches the doily thing from his hands.

“Look up. You attach this to your head using this comb.”

Mistress runs the comb threw his short dark hair then turns the comb over pushing if into his hair.

“Very pretty. Stand and bend over”

“But Mistress………….”

“How dare you speak to me! I did not ask you a question. You will not speak without permission. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes mistress”

“Now bend over”

He bends over the whipping stool, his bum stuck up in the air. Mistress lifts his skirt then takes a hand full of his curly black leg hairs and rips them out.

“Are you sorry”

“Yes mistress”

“Not sorry enough!”

There’s a long thin pocket down the side of Mistresses boot. She pulls a long riding crop from it. He can feel a tickle as she runs the tip of the riding crop up the inside of his leg. Then he feels the hot sting as she whacks him smartly across his arse.

“I’m told you like to get messy. Is this true Sissy maid?”

“Yes Mistress”

“Would you like me to mess you up sissy maid?”

“Yes Mistress”

“I have here a creamy custard pie. You’d like me to smear it into you’re sniveling face wouldn’t you? Answer me!”

“Yes Mistress”

The pie splats hard into his face. Cream is forced up his nose as the pie is rotated from side to side. Then pressure is gone and he opens his moth gasping for air.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you”

He receives another stinging whack across his arse.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you mistress!”

“That’s better. Now here’s another creamy pie. Would you like me to smear it over your arse Sissy Maid?”

Yes Mistress”


“Please Mistress, please rub the creamy pie into my undeserving arse”

He feels a cold draught brush his buttocks as Mistress pulls his knickers down around his knees. The pie hits his bum with as much force as the crop. Cream and custard are forced up his bum crack and cling to his balls. Mistress rubs it in leaving the pie firmly attached to his bum.

“Stand up and come over here.”

He stands up and reaches down to pull up his knickers.

“Did I tell you to pull up your knickers?

“No Mistress”

“Leave them down and come here.”

He waddles across the floor towards her. She’s standing by a table with a box of eggs on it.

“Hold your knickers out”

‘Yes mistress”

The eggs splash against his knees as mistress cracks all 6 eggs into them.

“You may pull your knickers up now.”

As he pulls his knickers up the cold and slimy raw eggs flow over his cock and balls.

“Thank you Mistress”

Mistress walks around him one more time her riding crop swinging backwards and forth. She grabs the back of his knickers and pulls forcing cream and eggs up where the sun don’t shine, then whacks him smartly across his bum.

“See that bucket on the table? Pick it up and tip it over your head.”

He takes hold of the bucket and looks inside.

“Did I say you could look in it? When I tell you to do something you do it! You do not stop to think. You do not pause to look. You do it.”

Each point is punctuated by another blow from the riding crop. He takes the bucket and tips it over his head. Cold backed beans run down his face and neck. They slide down his back and may tiny little plopping noises as the hit the floor.

“I have finished with you for now. You may go”

“Yes mistress”

The door to the changing room opens and he enters. His clothes are lying on the floor covered in custard and there’s no shower to clean up in. It’s going to be a long walk home.


© 2004