Fantasy Holiday

by

Rob Willson

 

Chapter 14

 

Helen was still feeling guilty over the way she had got a bit carried away with him over the cycle ride and said he could get his own back when they returned home.

Peter pulled her down on to his knee for a cuddle and said, "There are just two points about that. First of all, haven't you realised yet that I am so much in love with you that there is never any question of me wanting to get my own back? And the second is that, if you feel you owe me anything, there is a much nicer way of paying it off."

On hearing this, Helen smiled, kissed him, and got up. She caught hold of his hand and led him off to the bedroom for an 'early night'. The next morning, Peter gave her a piece of paper which read, "Your I. O. U. paid in full. With added interest."

Helen smiled again at this, put it away carefully, and then they went off, hand in hand, to their time as Victorian maids. They were scheduled to spend eight days working in the Victorian theme hotel (called not surprisingly, The Queen Victoria) and then there was one more day left, before they started their luxury break.

In the hey-day of servants, 'upstairs' had referred to the family of the house and 'downstairs' to their servants, however these terms were used slightly differently at the hotel. Here, 'upstairs' referred to the maids, who came into contact with the guests, such as chamber maids, waitresses and personal maids, while 'downstairs' referred to those working behind the scenes, in the kitchen, laundry etc.

Peter and Helen, once again as Doris and Ethel, were due to spend four days in each area – the first, downstairs.

They were taken to get their uniforms for working as scullery/kitchen maids for two days. This consisted of a long drab mud-coloured dress with short sleeves and a high stiff collar and a matching coloured cap, which seemed to have been designed to be as ugly as possible. Over this, from throat to ankle, went a thick blue rubber apron, which fitted tightly round the neck with a short chain and another chain round the waist. Both chains were locked on with small padlocks.

Of course, there was no possibility that any maid would dare to remove her apron without permission, but these locks were used as a humiliating psychological reminder that maids were totally under the control of their supervisors.

Although the uniforms were totally unglamorous, the maids were still obliged to have the nipped-in waists of the period and the long tight corset, together with the stiff material of the aprons, made the uniforms very awkward and uncomfortable to work in.

Jobs in the kitchen for the junior maids consisted of scrubbing innumerable pots and pans, cleaning and preparing vegetables and the scrubbing of work surfaces and floors. All very tiring and backbreaking. After a very short time at any of these jobs, their backs and shoulder muscles began to feel as if they were on fire.

At sometime in the past, the supervisors had heard the phrase, chained to the kitchen sink, so they had taken this literally and any girl doing either of the first two jobs was literally chained to her sink until she had finished her task.

The senior maids, who were supervising, wore the same drab dresses, but their ankle-length aprons were made of shiny, white rubber latex with conventional crossover shoulder straps and normal ties at the waist. No need of symbolic chains or padlocks here. They also wore conventional cotton mobcaps.

They had short black, thick, rubber straps, split into tails, hanging from their belts. Punishments were carried out quickly, so as not to interrupt the work, more than necessary. The usual punishment was an instantaneous strapping on the hands.

For a more serious offence, a black mark was awarded instead of, or in addition to, the strokes on the hands. These were 'redeemed' at the evening punishment session, at the rate of two strokes on the bare buttocks for each black mark. These were strokes of the chosen implement by whichever supervisor was on duty. It might be the cane, strap, birch, or a crop.

However, Peter and Helen observed very quickly that the punishments given were usually fair and not the undeserved kind created by artificial targets, as had happened in some of their earlier scenarios, especially in the schoolroom scenes!

The supervisors also made allowance for the fact that Helen and Peter's muscles were not fit enough for them to work as hard as the regular maids there did. This allowance, however, was not given to any maid from upstairs, who had been sent down as a punishment.

The next question, obviously, is, did either of them get a strapping? Yes, they both earned four strokes, two on each hand, for not peeling the potatoes thinly enough, but were spared an additional black mark.

Later they compared notes and agreed that having to stand at attention in their ridiculous ugly uniforms, with their hands outstretched, one palm on top of the other, like naughty little schoolgirls, was almost as bad as the strapping itself. They had found it very humiliating.

Furthermore, there was the effort not to show any tears in front of their fellow watching maids. This was easier said than done, because the supervisor was a very brawny lass with strong arms, who did not spare her efforts.

One girl was particularly unfortunate in that she had three breakages in fairly quick succession. Each time, she received two strokes on each hand and by the third punishment, with the strokes landing on top of her already sore hands; she was sobbing like a little child. She whimpered as she had to plunge her hands back into the hot water to continue the washing up and, as she had also collected three black marks, she had that evening's punishment on her bare bum to contemplate and to wonder what implement would be used.

On their second day in the kitchen, the supervisors decided to have a bit of fun with 'Doris'. He later found out that this 'game' with a new male maid was a pretty standard procedure.

He was fitted with a bra with very large cups. These were each filled with a plastic bag containing birdseed. This seed approximated the weight of real breasts, felt a bit like real ones when squeezed, and also bobbed fairly realistically, before the thick rubber apron bib held them in. Of course, this also meant being issued with a larger sized dress.

When he was dressed again and ready for work, he could see that he now had the pouter-pigeon look of the period, but also he found three things he hadn't expected. Like all men, he had appreciated breasts on a woman, but had never considered the fact that she had to carry extra weight in front of her body. Now he found he had to hold his body differently to compensate for this weight, which made him feel a little bit top-heavy at first.

The next thing was that the extra bulk tended to get in the way in all sorts of ways and he also kept bumping into things. Finally, whenever he had to look down to do a job, it was very, very different. He could no longer see things in the sink as before, because, as he looked down, the large bulge of his apron bib covered the 'expected' view and so he had to hold things differently and work differently.

Adjusting to his new shape caused a lot of amusement, not only with the supervisors, but to the other maids as well, including Helen.

On the third day, they were transferred to laundry work; Peter/Doris now back in his 'own' body. The dresses were the same as before, but the long, thick, rubber apron was now green – and just as uncomfortable!

Apart from the usual floors to be scrubbed, there were three main jobs. First was being chained to a washtub, complete with rubbing board and scrubbing brush. Next came a session with the heavy mangle, to wring the water out of the clothes. In turning the wheel, it was very similar to the punishment crank used in prisons of the time.

The third job was one they should have expected. It was starching and ironing the various styles of cotton aprons worn by the upstairs maids. They were started on the plainer housemaid types and then they graduated to the frillier kinds. Of course, they had to use the irons of the period; the kind that had to be heated on a stove individually. No electric steam irons here!

The finished aprons were hung straight on to hangers and not folded and creased at all. They also quickly found out that the supervisor of this section of the laundry did not have the words, "that's good enough" in her vocabulary. Every single apron had to be ironed perfectly.

After the third rejection, they both suffered another three strokes to each hand, again fortunately for them, without the addition of the black mark, and they had to redo the offending aprons with their hands stinging from the punishment. Both of them realised how slapdash and 'near enough' their ironing of the aprons at home had been, but they wouldn't be like that in the future, after this intensive training.

On the second day in the laundry, 'Doris' regained her large breasts and, once again, found how different, and difficult, they made the laundry jobs. As he began his first session at the mangle with them, the supervisor said, "Now, Doris, be careful not to catch you tits in the wringer", and went off laughing.

Peter quickly realised that there was not the slightest danger of doing this, even for a large-breasted female, because the thick apron bib would protect them from being caught up between the rollers.

Then it was time for them to be promoted to 'upstairs'. More new uniforms.

In the mornings, they wore long light blue dresses with a standard plain housemaid apron and a matching mobcap. Their supervisors here wore dark blue dresses, similar to hospital sisters in England. Another difference was that there were no straps hanging from their belts. Any infringements here brought on 'black marks', although there was a soundproofed room on every other floor, just in case the punishment had to be administered immediately.

Dressed like this, they did various cleaning jobs about the hotel. In time for noon, when the guests' restaurant opened those scheduled to be waitresses were given time to scrub off any dirt from the morning's jobs and to change into conventional Victorian parlourmaid uniforms. Those not chosen for this duty changed at two o'clock.

Once again, there were a variety of jobs allocated. Life above stairs was certainly more varied and interesting than in the kitchen and laundry.

At six, came another change of uniform. There was a special uniform for evening restaurant duty, another variation on the parlourmaid theme for the rest, except for those allocated to became personal maids to any of the guests for the evening, when they wore a uniform chosen by the guest from a catalogue.

On the second day, Peter was on duty in the restaurant during the evening and noticed one of the female guests seeming to take a particular interest in him. Accordingly, next day, he was told that he had been allocated to be her personal maid for two days.

She had been 'turned on' by the idea of having a male servant dressed in a female uniform and he was instructed to play up to this idea and anything that followed from it. He was quite happy with this, as being a henpecked aproned male was one of his favourite personal fantasies.

She had given no special instructions about a uniform, so next morning he turned up with the lady's breakfast in her room in his housemaid's one. This seemed to bring on a fit of giggles, especially when he gave his name as Doris, and so he tried to play at being embarrassed by his rôle.

After his lady had had her bath and he had helped her to dress, he went back into the bathroom to clean up. According to the hotel's standing orders for housemaids, he put on a light domestic frilled rubber apron over his uniform for the wet jobs he had to do.

In the middle of all this, the guest called him in for something and he went to her, still wearing the rubber apron. This really amused her and she called him over to feel the apron material.

"So it is a rubber one as I thought. It is so pretty and you look very cute wearing it, DORIS."

This set off another fit of giggling and Peter realised that she thought he was embarrassed and humiliated at having to wear it in front of her. She obviously had no idea that it was quite a time since such things bothered him, because he was by now so used to wearing all kinds of aprons and maid uniforms in all sorts of situations.

Remembering his instructions, he tried to play coy and said, "Why thank you Ma'am".

"Pretend it is wrinkled and smooth it over your body," she then ordered.

He obeyed her and a rather strange thing happened. As he did so, it brought back memories of the first time he had been forced to wear one and act like this and the memories of the embarrassment he had felt came flooding back and he found himself blushing.

She clapped her hands in glee at his reaction to being called cute and announced that he was to wear a rubber apron at all times while he was her maid.

Peter played up to this by saying, "Oh no Ma'am. Please don't make me wear this more than I already have too. All the other maids and ladies will laugh at me." He lifted the rubber apron and put on a pathetic pleading look.

"I'm sorry, Doris. I've made up my mind. By the way, do they have any made of plastic here?"

"Plastic, Ma'am. What is that?"

"Don't be impertinent," she snapped and then realised that it was a Victorian hotel and plastic was not invented until many years after that period.

"Never mind that," she added, "but I want to see the catalogue of uniforms to decide upon your evening uniform".

"Yes Madam. I'll get it at once."

She studied it for a while and then rang the housekeeper with her decision. Naturally, she did not convey it to Peter.

He carried on with his morning duties and then went to the small midday meal the maids had and then change into his afternoon uniform. He remembered to put the rubber apron back on.

"Why are you wearing that apron?" demanded a supervisor.

"My mistress had ordered me to wear it at all times, Miss. I think she feels it humiliates me to have to wear it at her behest."

"Very well. Carry on, but I shall check up to see if you are lying."

Peter curtsied and hurried back to his temporary mistress.

"Where have you been? I thought you had got lost", she exclaimed.

He explained, with another humble curtsey, that his wearing of the rubber apron over his parlourmaid's uniform had been questioned by a supervisor.

"Right, well I am going shopping now Doris and you are coming with me to carry my parcels."

This was his next cue and he said, "Oh Ma'am. Do I have to come like this? Please let me take this extra apron off, please."

Much to his surprise, she said, "OK. You can take both of those off."

He did so and then she added, "And you can put this on instead!"

'This' was another rubber apron she had obviously selected from the catalogue. It was gaudy, garish, and much frillier than the official apron he had been wearing.

Peter now put on the show of reluctance and pleading that she obviously expected from him and finally capitulated, as they both knew he had to.

For the rest of the afternoon, she dragged him round the shops to show him off in his colourful apron; while Peter had to endure titters from other maids and their mistresses at the sight he presented.

Eventually they got back to the hotel room and he helped to put the shopping away.

It was soon time for his evening change of uniform and she had another surprise for him. It was a fairly standard type of short French maid's uniform, except that it was entirely of rubber. It was fairly obvious that she thought she had invented the idea of a rubber maid. This time he disappointed her by not putting up objections.

She asked him why he was not asking to be excused from it and he told her simply that he had now realised that he had to obey her orders about what he had to wear and that it was obvious that his pleading would be in vain. This admission seemed to please almost as much as protests.

She sent him off to change and told him not to be too long about it. He curtsied and left the room. When he put the uniform's apron on, he found that the frills on the bib and shoulder straps had wires in the hems, so that they would stand up like starched frills on a cotton apron.

He returned and she was very pleased with the result.

A thought occurred to her.

"What sort of knickers are you wearing underneath that skirt?"

"Matching rubber ones, Ma'am," he replied.

"Show me", she ordered, and he bent over as far as his heavy corset allowed. She lifted the skirt and ran her hands over the knickers to feel the material and then slipped her hands between his legs to feel for his penis, which was constrained by a separate rubber bag.

"Very interesting," she said.

'Yes', he thought to himself, and this is getting well outside a Victorian scenario.

They went to the restaurant for her evening meal, where he had to act as waitress and serve her. He noticed a number of disapproving looks from other guests at his very short uniform skirt and wondered what the Management was thinking about it all. Both the Queen Victoria Hotel's Management and the General Management of Fantasy Holidays.

They eventually got back to the hotel room without anything being said. Now things began to hot up. She was more than a little tipsy from the wine and liquors she had drunk with her meal, on top of the several Sherries she had had beforehand.

"I want you to bend over and show me your rubber covered arse again."

Peter hesitated slightly.

"Touch your toes at once" she snapped.

This time he obeyed.

He ran her hand over his buttocks once again and then slipped her hand between his legs and her fingers began to explore. This sort of business was not supposed to take place in this decorous hotel, but still Peter hesitated. Her next words decided him.

"Now I'm going to get my ebony hairbrush and give your bum a few whacks, about twelve I think, then I'm going to have these knickers down and give you some more and then see what comes next.

Ordinarily, Peter would not have been averse to being treated so. He had endured far worse over the past few weeks, but this was not the sort of thing he wanted at this stage of his holiday (his mistress, of course, still had no idea that he was a fellow guest of Fantasy Holidays) and also, this sort of thing was not supposed to happen in this grade of hotel.

So, as she left the room, he reached for the panic button sewn into his costume. There were actually two of these, one which alerted the Management to observe what was going on and the second to alert them to intervene. He pressed the second.

These were always included in any costume when a guest was playing a slave, or servant, to another guest – just in case. They had saved more than one female guest from an unwelcome rape in the past!

As she came back, carrying the brush, there was a knock at the door. The response was so quick that Peter guessed that her earlier behaviour in the restaurant had warned them and that they had already been watching, waiting for his signal.

"Yes! What is it? I'm busy. Can't you come back later?"

"It's Carol of Management. I'm sorry it can't wait. I need to speak with you immediately."

'Good old Carol' thought Peter. 'Carol of the Cavalry. Just in the nick of time.'

As she stumbled towards the door, his mistress hissed, over her shoulder, for him to stand up, but he disobeyed and stayed bending over with his skirt turned up.

As soon as she entered the room, the hairbrush and his posture made it plain to Carol what she had interrupted, as if she had not already known.

Carol did not mention that Peter was, in fact, a fellow guest, but explained that this sort of behaviour was not allowed in this grade of hotel. However, there were others where, not only was it allowed, but the Management provided canes and straps for the guests and even instruction in their use.

"Why wasn't I offered one of those before?" she drunkenly asked.

"I believe you specifically asked for the Victorian theme hotel. That is why."

"Well, that is because I wanted the maids to be dressed in those uniforms, especially the male maids, like the one I have got here."

Carol explained patiently, "In the other type of hotel, you can have your servants dressed exactly how you like, so would you like to be transferred to one of them and we can allocate you a male maid if you want, who you will be able to flog if you wish?"

"Yes, I would like to transfer, but can I take Doris with me? She asked.

If he had been a slave, Carol would have made that decision according to the usual Management criteria, but, since Peter was a guest, she quickly glanced at him to see his wishes. He gave a quick shake of the head.

"No, I'm sorry that will not be possible. Doris is a member of the staff of this hotel and cannot be changed over. For her it would be a demotion and she hasn't earned that. What I will do, is arrange for a selection of male maids to be available for you to choose one or two from. I'm sure they will be as nice as Doris. Now how about that?"

The drunk agreed and was taken off to her new hotel and choice of new male maid, while Peter was left to pack her things to be sent on. Since it was still early evening, Peter wondered if he would get the rest of the day off, since it had been quite an exhausting day.

When he had finished, he asked Carol, in character, "Can I go off duty now Ma'am?"

"Oh no", she said. "It is much too early for that and, in any case, this room has now to be got ready for the next guest, so you can give it a thorough cleaning."

Peter, resignedly, then asked, "Do I need to change back into a housemaid's uniform for that, Ma'am?"

"Oh I don't think that will be necessary. You are wearing a rubber uniform that won't get dirty so there is no need. But I will be along later to inspect your work, because there is still the possibility of some black marks to be given for this day yet."

Carol smiled at him and left him to get on with it. He avoided getting the black marks but it was a very tired Peter who went to bed very late. The next day he was back on general duties for his last day as a Victorian maid, which was otherwise uneventful.

The following day, he was reunited with Helen and they began their last day as working maids. They had chosen to serve again as cocktail waitresses in the staff club. Once again, they were dressed in bizarre exaggerated French maid costumes, with very short skirts.

They each had a waist cincher, not much wider than a belt, which, nevertheless, constricted them as much as the Victorian corsets of the previous few days. The dresses were bright scarlet and they had a diminutive bibbed, strapless apron of lace-edged cream-coloured satin which was put into the shade by an enormous bow, much wider than their bodies with the bands hanging down to tickle their bare calves as they walked. They also had matching lace-edged caps with streamers down to the waist.

When Peter contemplated the very high heels he had to wear, he anticipated another very trying time. Then he discovered a new twist, since the last time he had played a cocktail waitress. This costume had boobs built into it and they turned out to be somewhat special. When they were squeezed, air pressure caused a ring of sharp needles to prick a painful circle round his nipples.

Next, they sprayed into his throat, with the effect that his voice became high pitched and so the result of squeezing his breasts brought out an authentic-sounding girlish squeal.

When he contemplated the sex-object vision of Helen, he realised just how sexy she appeared in the bizarre uniform. When he saw his reflection, with his man's lace-capped head on top of the costume, he looked quite ridiculous in comparison.

In the club, he was sent to serve a group of off-duty female staff, who loved to torment male maids, while Helen had to serve a similarly minded group of males. When they saw him enter the Club, the women's leader shouted to him.

"Hey Doris. Get that pert little arse over here on the double and take our drinks order."

'On the double?' He could barely walk safely in the high heels and whilst Helen strode confidently across the room towards her group of men, he minced in comparison, much to his own disgust. The women knew all about his false breasts and what happened when they were fondled and also about the fact that his penis and balls were trapped in a soft rubber cup filled with sharp rubber bristles.

So, there was a series of girlish squeals from both sides of the club. Fortunately, for both of them, the staff members soon became more interested in having their glasses refilled, than in tormenting their waitresses. After all, they did this all day long for a living, so doing too much of it in off-duty hours as well, soon became boring.

That day over, Helen and Peter transferred to their luxury holiday hotel. As previously arranged, they were back in the room where they had first revealed their attraction for each other and they were welcomed by the same maid, Jenny.

She was overjoyed to see them again and was very pleased to see them wearing wedding rings.

"Oh, I am so pleased to see this has happened. I hoped very much that it would."

They both hugged her and then told her that they had asked specially for her to attend them, which also pleased her.

Helen asked her how she had enjoyed her two week's holiday that they had 'tipped' her on their last visit.

"Oh Madam, it was wonderful and I'm so glad you asked me about it".

"Why is that, Jenny?"

"Well, if I had volunteered the information, it might have seemed as though I was asking for another 'tip'. It put me in a quandary, because I didn't want you to think me ungrateful, especially when I had enjoyed it so much".

Once they were alone, they fell into each other's arms and then made a beeline for the bedroom. When the preliminaries were over, they got some badly needed rest and then sat on their balcony, bringing each other up to date and planning the rest of the week

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Rob Willson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.