Crystal's StorySite


Maid to Please

by Jayne Dell


Chapter One.

Officer Victor Kraft was a bad cop. That is not to say that he wasn't good at his job. He most certainly was. He had been responsible for obtaining the information leading to a number of very large and successful raids on drug and money-laundering operations. The criminal underworld had come to hate him with a passion.

He should have been a hero to his fellow cops, but he wasn't. He treated them like dirt, and most of his colleagues thought he was an arrogant bastard. That wasn't unusual, a lot of cops could be described that way. But for him there was more. In a number of the money-laundering raids, large sums of money had been left suspiciously unaccounted for. Everyone had known that he had taken it, but no one had been able to prove it.

Given his bust record, even that might have been overlooked by his colleagues, (after all, he wouldn't be the first cop to take a slice from a raid) but he had also committed the greatest sin possible in the eyes of the other police. He repeatedly blabbed on his colleague's minor misdemeanours, forcing at least five good cops to retire early. Matters had come to a head recently, when money from one of the laundering operations had mysteriously appeared in his Captain's locker. No one believed the Captain had taken the money, but no one could prove it had been planted. The Captain had been suspended.

It was fair to say, that most of his fellow cops would not have shed a single tear if he got killed in a shoot out.

He was even hated by his informers. Most cops used a carrot and stick approach to get their information. For Victor, it was pure stick. He used fear, and force to get answers. A number of his informers had experienced lengthy hospital spells after a visit from him. Again, nothing was ever proven of course,

It was in fact a question of whether the criminals, the informers or the other cops hated him the most.

Victor didn't care. He knew he was better than the rest of them. Not a one of them would stand up to him, or dare face him in a fight. It wasn't that he was a huge hulk of a guy. In fact he was barely 5' 10" and quite trim. No, they all knew that to cross him was to court disaster. He was prepared to do things that most people would not. That meant that in a fight, he fought dirty. Anyone who crossed him could normally kiss their careers goodbye. Everyone had some dirt, and Victor was expert at finding it.

For him it was a matter of power. He had always wanted to be a cop because of the power it could give him. Power to change peoples lives. Power to make people respect and fear him. Power to make people pay him to stay on his good side.

Having the power allowed him to accumulate wealth. With wealth came more power. As well as the money he managed to "liberate" during the raids, he also extorted money and goods from people and businesses. If they paid, everything stayed rosy. If they didn't? Well, that was why he was here at the Tropicana Club.

He walked into the club, and looked carefully around. The club was a specialised strip joint, catering for the S&M community. Tony, the owner, normally paid him with a large fat envelope stuffed with cash. In return, he looked the other way on some of the clubs more extreme acts. In addition, Victor was also given free access to the girls. That was fine, except last time Victor had "visited", the girl had been left beaten and bruised. Now Tony was refusing to pay. That was a mistake, and Victor was here to help him change his views.

When he walked into the club, he saw that it was mostly empty. There was a small group of drunken men watching a girl dance around a pole, and a couple of others watching one girl tie another up. That was good, the fewer witnesses the better in case he had to get physical with Tony the owner.

He grabbed a passing waitress roughly by the arm.

"Where's your boss? Where's Tony?" he demanded.

The girl yelped with pain as he squeezed her arm

"He's in the back. Let me go." She whined.

Victor released her, and strode across the large room to the office at the back. People took one look at his uniform and face, and quickly got out of his way. He opened the door without knocking and walked inside. The outer office was empty, but he knew that Tony had his private office the other side of the general office, and he headed directly for it.

Tony wasn't there. Instead, perched on the edge of his desk was a girl. She stood up as he entered.

The young woman was pretty, probably in her early 20's. She had long dark hair, and piercing green eyes. She was wearing black leather trousers and a simple black top. Victor didn't recognise her. She was probably one of the new girls here he reasoned.

"I've been waiting for you!" she said simply.

Victor shook his head in surprise, then walked up to her threateningly.

"Where's Tony?" he demanded.

The girl ignored him, and just walked slowly around and closed the door behind him.

"Are you deaf?" he shouted. "Where's your boss?"

Again the girl ignored him. She turned to face him, hands on her hips, blocking the door.

He shook his head in disbelief and started to walk around the woman. She must be some kind of retard he figured. To his surprise, she moved in front of him and blocked his path again.

Once more he stopped in surprise. It was a rare idiot that crossed him. This little bint of a woman was trying to block HIM?? With a snort of derisive laughter, he went to move around her again, but once more she stepped in his way. He began to lose his temper.

"Look lady, if you know what's good for you, you'll step aside." He threatened

The girl calmly and casually looked him up and down, sizing him up. Then obviously unimpressed, she looked him directly in the eye.

"Try it." She said, the tone of her voice utterly dismissive of him.

Victor felt the anger rise in him, and he raised his arm to push the annoying woman out of his way. Victor was a good fighter. He had been through a number of self-defence and unarmed combat courses, but he had never seen anyone move as fast as she did. Her hand was a blur as, faster than he could believe; she reached up and grabbed his wrist. With an effortless expert twist, she forced a howl of pain from him. Then slowly and inexorably, she twisted him around so that his arm was pushed painfully up his back. He tried to stop her, but she had the leverage, and his greater raw strength was unable to break free.

Before he knew what had happened, she had him face down over the desk, his arm still painfully twisted behind his back.

"Pathetic!" said the woman. "Now, be a good little girl and do as I say. I don't want to hurt you, but I have no compunctions about doing so if necessary."

"You bitch!" snarled Victor trying to twist free. "I'm going to bust you up."

He tried to get the woman off him by reaching back to grab her with his left arm, but it proved a stupid mistake. Just as before, she seized his wrist, and twisted his other arm up behind him. Again he yelled with pain.

This was ridiculous he thought. This petite girl had him almost completely immobilised. He struggled again, but it simply resulted in more pain as she pushed his arms further up his back.

He felt something cold close around his left wrist, and suddenly realised that she was trying to handcuff him. He struggled even harder, trying to kick her, but he felt the other handcuff bracelet click closed over his wrist.

Without pausing, the woman grabbed one of his kicking legs, and clicked another cuff over it. Desperate now, Victor lunged out with his final free foot, trying to kick the woman as hard as he could. The woman moved gracefully aside, deflecting his lunge, and with a dismissive push, sent him crashing to the floor. He landed on his cuffed arms, making him yelp with pain. Before he could recover, she had reached down and cuffed his feet together.

He couldn't believe that it had happened so quickly. One second he had been about to push this uppity bitch aside, the next she had him bound and helpless on the floor. It had been so easy for her, and so humiliating for him. He tried to get to his feet, but she just pushed him back, and rolled him onto his chest.

The breath whooshed out of his lungs as she landed heavily on his back, pinning him to the floor. He was still gasping for air, when she grabbed his hair, and roughly pulled his head back. Before he could close his mouth, she had shoved a long thick penis gag inside. He tried to expel it with his tongue, but she strapped it to the back of his head. To his horror and shame, his attempts to push it out with his tongue, merely made him more aware that the invading object was shaped exactly like a penis. He could even feel the veins on the underside with his tongue.

As he tried to come to terms with what had happened, he felt her remove his gun and belt. Then he felt a prickle of fear as he saw the woman produce a pair of scissors. My god he thought. What is the crazy bitch going to do to me?

He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or not when she used them to quickly and efficiently cut off his uniform. At least she wasn't using them on him.

He could not believe what was happening. No one had ever treated him like this. Normally he dominated everyone, but a mere girl had physically beaten him. It was so degrading. In seconds, she finished cutting, and he lay naked and helpless on the ground at her feet, the tattered remains of his police uniform all around him.

"Up!" she commanded, trying to pull him up off the floor. When he instinctively resisted, she took hold of his testicles and squeezed.

"Up!" she repeated.

Tough as he was, Victor wasn't about to argue with someone who had his testicles in one hand, and a pair of scissors in another. With her help, he struggled to his feet. Holding his testicles firmly to stop any thought of resistance, she passed an embossed leather collar over his head and pulled it tighter around his neck. Next she attached a leash to the collar, and slowly walked him over to the desk. She forced him to lie face down across the desk, and tied the leash tightly to the table edge, pinning him down.

Leaving him for a moment, she walked over to a cupboard and took out a large bag. From the bag she took a black silky object. He wondered what it was, but then she started to wrap it around his waist. He realised to his dismay that she had wrapped some kind of black silk corset around his waist. He tried to fight back, but in the cuffs, collar and penis gag, he was helpless as she slowly pulled the laces in tighter and tighter. He could hardly breathe, and still she pulled. When was this mad cow going to stop?

By the time she finished, he could only take very shallow breaths. He felt very tired, light headed and dizzy. He lay there in a powerless daze as she undid the cuffs on his ankles and slid a pair of silk and lace panties up his legs. They were followed by a pair of black silken stockings with delicate lacy tops, which she connected to the garters hanging down from the corset. Victor felt so humiliated. How was he ever going to live this down? What if she took pictures of him dressed in lingerie like this? He would be finished.

She returned to the bag, and took out a small object that Victor could not see clearly. He wondered what it was. Suddenly he felt the woman pull his panties down and smear some cold cream around his rear passage, and he realised to his horror what she intended.

No way, he thought, and tried desperately to break free. But the struggle was brief. With the corset that tight, he soon found himself dizzy and out of breath. Even as he struggled and fought to break free, he felt her push a large hard object against his hole. The pain was intense as it pushed inside him. He screamed into the penis gag, but it effectively muffled him. His eyes watered, and he found himself perspiring and hyperventilating. This was simply not possible. He was a cop. This didn't happen to cops. He could feel the long object pushing deeper and deeper, until finally, with a wet plopping sound, it passed inside him.

He had never felt so degraded in his life. It was bad enough to have this sort of thing happen to him, but to have it happen at the hands of a slip of a girl was almost more than he could abide. He had never been married, and for him girls had always been objects of pleasure and desire. They were just somewhere to stick his dick when he wanted pleasure. They were small and weak, and therefore his inferiors. He had never believed that he would find himself so helpless before a girl that she could, with impunity, shove a dildo up his arse. His faced burned with humiliation as he realised that the he had a dildo in both ends.

He was still recovering from the anal invasion, when he felt her pull something tight over his feet and up his legs. From his position across the table, he could not see what it was, but it pushed his silk covered legs tightly together and held them there. As she pulled it up over his hips, he realised that it was a kind of black latex hobble skirt. He had seen some of the girls in the club wearing them, and he knew that with this on, he would be able to take only the smallest of steps. This was made even worse seconds later as he felt her push shoes onto his feet and strap them tightly in place. When he put his feet back down, he found himself forced onto tiptoes, and he knew he was wearing high heels.

The woman paused for a moment, then returned to the bag to remove a blindfold. She placed it over his eyes, plunging him into darkness.

Once she had secured the blindfold, she untied the leash, and forced him to stand. He felt very unstable in the high-heeled shoes and tight hobble skirt. The tightness of the skirt made his stockinged legs rub sensuously together as he moved. He found the feeling highly unsettling.

He felt her pass something over his head, and wondered what it was. It felt silky on his face, and he could hear the rustling of silken material. He realised to his further consternation that it was probably a dress of some kind. Hadn't she had enough fun? When was this going to end?

Suddenly he had an idea. If she really were trying to put a dress on him, she would probably have to undo his arms first to put them through the sleeves. Once his arms were free, he might be able to do something about escaping. He was just preparing himself to fight, when his world exploded into pain.

As part of his cop training, he had been hit with a Taser, so he recognised what had happened. But this was far far worse. The pain originated from deep inside his bottom. Whatever she had forced up his backside was obviously more than just a dildo. The knowledge didn't help him. The pain was worse than anything he could imagine, and he crumpled weakly to the floor. He found himself shaking and sobbing from the shock and the pain. For a few seconds, he was helpless as she undid the cuffs and fed his arms through the sleeves of the dress then re-cuffed him.

She allowed him a minute to recover, then pulled him back to his feet and put something around his waist, tying it in a knot behind him.

Finally he felt her put something over his head, and his realised with resignation that she had place a wig on him. He could feel the hairs tickling his neck and back. She fussed with the wig for a moment, and then seemed to fasten something to it.

Then, taking the leash, she led him slowly across the room. With the high heels, corset and hobble skirt, he could only take tiny mincing steps. Eventually she stopped him, and removed the blindfold. Only then did the true horror of his situation greet him.

In front of him was a large full-length mirror.

He moaned at the sight of his normally macho body dressed in a pretty silken French maid outfit, complete with a pretty white silky apron, fluffy petticoats, and a even a matching maid's lacy hair band on his long dark haired wig. His waist looked impossibly thin, thanks to the tight corset, and his silk stocking clad legs were hidden inside the long pencil skirt.

The girl came and stood beside him, putting her arm around his thin waist.

"Don't you look pretty Vickie." She mocked.

She stepped away and pointed a small device at him and pressed a button. Suddenly the dildo deep inside him began to hum and vibrate. Victor gasped at the sudden stimulation of his most private area, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He found himself writhing and twisting, but it wouldn't come out.

"Clever device." said the girl with a smile. "It has multiple functions. Carrot and stick! With one button I can give you a nasty electric shock. With another, I can give you pleasure."

Victor wasn't sure that having a massive vibrating rubber penis stuck up his backside counted as pleasure, but he supposed it was better than the electric shock. He never wanted to have that again!

She walked over and sat down in a large leather chair, and used the leash to gently pull Victor towards her. He shuffled slowly over, his silk clad legs rubbing together. She forced him down on his knees, between her legs. As he knelt, he was very aware of the tight garter straps running down his legs. She took him firmly by the chin, forcing him to look deep into her eyes as the vibrator continued to throb and stimulate his back passage.

"You've annoyed a lot of people Vickie." She said. "You've been a very bad girl. It's time to payback what you have taken from them. I'm going to make you into a good girl."

She paused and gently stroked his cheek, and brushed the long hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear in an oddly feminine way.

"My name is Jayne. Mistress Jayne to you. Don't worry Vickie; I won't hurt you unless I really have to. I won't need to. I've filmed all this, so I'm sure you will want to cooperate. After all, it would be a shame if the pictures appeared on the Internet, or mailed to your precinct."

Victor groaned in despair, but Jayne just continued.

"They hired me because I'm a professional. You may have thought that you were all macho, but if that were true, how were you physically beaten and dressed up as a pretty French Maid by a mere girl? Macho? I think not. No, secretly you want to wear pretty, silky, frilly clothes. I bet you're enjoying the soft silky lingerie that you're wearing right now. It's true isn't it Vickie?"

Victor grunted a savage denial into the penis gag. He wished that she would stop calling him Vickie. It was so humiliating.

"Don't worry Vickie, I'm going to make you so pretty. Eventually you'll come to enjoy being all girly. All of my girls do in the end. You'll actually want to wear bras, panties, dresses, stockings and even make-up. When I give you back to them, they are just going to love you."




2004 by Jayne Dell. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.