The new Secretary

James was standing just outside the office, wondering how his new work life would be. It was an elegant building, all pristine and white, and must have been incredibly expensive. This was supposed to be contract work, a short stint before the next phase of his career.

He walked in.

The reception was just as clean. Long halls, high ceilings, the epitome of success. A secretary was waiting for him at the reception desk.

'Good morning!' she said in an unusually high voice. She wore a long sleeved, silken white blouse and had long curls of blonde hair. 'I'm Linda. What can I help you with?'

'James,' he greeted. 'I'm here for the administrative assistant job...'

'Oh the secretary position!' Linda gasped. 'Of course! Right this way.'

James was led down a long hallway, white and shining as the foyer. As he went he passed cubicle farms, where he saw hundreds of women typing out their work. Almost all were dressed similarly to Linda, and many eyed James out of the corner of their eye, a little curious.

James let out a light cough. 'Quite a strict dress code here...'

'Oh, it's nothing.' Linda said. Now that she had escaped the desk James could see she wore a long pencil skirt down to her calves that forced her to sway her hips as she moved, and on her feet had black court shoes with high stiletto heels to constrict her even further. 'This is industry practice. We mainly train secretaries here for other companies and ship them off over the months.'

They arrived at a dark, double mahogany door, behind which a man was waiting for them at his desk. He was dressed in a smart business suit, and had a chiseled jawline and a wavy cap of black hair.

'Ah, James is it? I'm Adam.' The man said, and shooed Linda away with a gesture. The secretary sighed and left, swaying her hips as she went.

On the desk were two drinks, what looked like a coke for Adam and a strange, green shake for James. At Adam's gesture, James began to drink his, found it lemony. It made his vision blur a moment.

'Now James,' the man said, offering him a seat. 'I'm willing to accept you immediately, as your resume has informed us of your previous work, but just for the sake of it, do you tick any diversity boxes? We are looking to improve our quota.'

'None, I'm afraid.' James said. 'I'm just a straight white guy.'

Adam laughed. 'Yes, yes, well that's all well and good. Let me show you to your office and sleeping quarters...'

As discussed in an email the week before, James' new position came with in-house accommodation. They were small rooms, with the basic necessities, a bed, toilet and sink, plus a luxurious TV, all situated just underneath the ground floor. It came with a slightly dank smell, like a subterranean bunker.

When his tour was completed, James was taken to his desk, right inside and directly left of Adam's desk. It was strange when he went to lunch break, being around so many women, who spoke in such high tones and wore the same strange, but elegant uniform. His first day went by quite quickly, and soon he was retiring to his sleeping bunker, and was served dinner by another woman, dressed identical to Linda, showing off her hips as she left him with the dinner tray, that long black skirt and white, frilly blouse.

The moment James was asleep, a strange murmuring sound could be heard over the PA system, very close to his bed, hypnotising him with horribly sexual and homoerotic thoughts, commands his conscious mind would immediately reject. He had very weird, erotic dreams that night, so arousing a small tent jerked up in his pants, and he tried to shrink it down in embarrassment.

The next day was not as simple.

He was awoken by the eerie sound of the Television, at around 7AM , right beside his bunker. It was an old ladies etiquette lesson, and James could not take his eyes off the screen. How a lady was supposed to sit in ladylike fashion, walk and talk so as to never appear unseemly.

When James checked the clock again it was 9 o'clock. He was going to be late!

He scrambled to get dressed, but couldn't find his clothes, couldn't find anything, until Linda walked into his bedroom, eyeing him in his underwear.

'Linda!' he said, not questioning her entrance. 'I can't find my clothes, and I'm late!'

Linda giggled, that high, ladylike laugh. 'Well of course, silly! We hid them. Today's a special occasion-opposite clothes day! Everyone dresses up as the opposite gender.'

James raised a brow, trying to forget that she had gone through his wardrobe. Linda was still in her creamy blouse and skirt and heels. 'Then what about you?'

'Oh, it's not for me, dear, it's for new initiates. That means you!'

'What? But I'm not...' then a weird feeling came over James, some unknown emotion that was strange and dark and crushing, and he swallowed his objection. 'Of course, what do I need to do?'

So James found himself taken to a special makeup room, on the same floor as his bunker, all mirrors and leather seats, where he spent over one hour. It did not seem like they were setting him up for just one day, with the amount of effort they put into perfecting his face, the foundation and bronzor, the fake eyelashes, that long auburn brown wig that took minutes to get on him, and reached past his shoulders.

Next came the clothes. Linda handed him a cardboard box, and asked James to change in front of her. He was about to object, when the same strange feeling came over him, and he began to obey.

When James had opened the box he found a collage of black and white items. First were the shiny white panties and bra, made of a soft satin that crawled up James' legs, then a simple black pencil skirt down to his knees. A white long-sleeved governess blouse was then brought out, along with a pair of black court shoes, with a three inch heel.

He tried posing in front of the mirror, with his hands poised around his torso, like he had seen the ladies do on the Television that morning. Nice and ladylike, elegant and refined. Everything looked perfect, he couldn't believe he had ever acted differently.

'Oh you look wonderful!' Linda said. 'Now, I can't call you James when you look like that, can I dear?'

'Of course not.' he said, still dazed, eyeing this creature reflected in the mirror. Whoever it was swayed so seductively, the skirt and blouse highlighting her curves so well

'Then what should your name be today?' Linda asked.

'Melody.' James said before he realised the words he'd spoken.

'Excellent! Well Melody, you'd best be off for work, Adam needs you quickly!'

And so James did, still adjusting to the name Melody, and wondering how he had agreed to this in the first place. It didn't matter. She had work to do.

So Melody sauntered up to her bosses' office, still adjusting to the heels and the restrictive nature of walking in a skirt. It only came down to her knees, but Melody felt like her thighs were chained to the cloth. By the time she was in front of his desk, it was past eleven.

'What on earth do you think you're doing in my office so late?' Adam half yelled, still in his regular business suit. Melody had the decency and tilt her head down submissively and look ashamed.

'I'm sorry, Adam...'

'You will call me Sir when you make a screw up this big.'

'I'm sorry Sir,' Melody began again. 'But Linda was fixing me up for "opposite clothes day" and my wardrobe was taken and all this dressing ate into my time...'

'What name did you pick for today?' Adam interrupted.

'Melody, Sir.'

'Well Melody, regardless of the circumstances, you are late, tremendously late. I cannot let this failure happen again.'

'Of course not, Sir.'

'But you have been dressed and made up immaculately, I suppose I should be lenient. Hold your hands out in front of you.'

Melody obeyed, and soon Adam had left his desk, and had pulled out from under it a long coil of rope. He wound it around Melody's satin wrists, looping it many times until properly cinching it and pinning her hands together. Melody lowered her hands, and found they rested at the top of her skirt, like the elegant ladies from Television again. Her lady-cock stiffened.

'Rope is our most common disciplinary instrument, so I would think twice about being late for my office again.'

Melody agreed, and sat back down at her desk. It was difficult to type and do her work with her wrists bound so tightly in front of her, but she managed at a steady pace, and soon the day faded away and it was time for shift to end.

'Melody.' Adam called out before she could leave. 'Come over here.'

Melody obeyed, found it disturbing she had forgot to ask to be untied. 'Yes Sir?'

'You did well today.' he said, untying her satin-bound wrists. 'Despite the early hiccups. Congratulations! Would you like a drink?'

Melody nodded, was handed a large goblet with that same green liquid that tasted of lemon. 'Uh, Sir? What is this?' she said, hesitant.

'It's just an after work shout.' he said, 'to keep you my nice little secretary. Understand?'

'Of course Sir.' Melody said, and drank the whole thing.

That night, after dinner was served in her room, she continued to watch Television, all the lovely, precious ways ladies organised themselves. Why didn't she know these ways of sitting and speaking? She tried to remember how she had come here to begin with, remembered something about opposites, then forgot it a moment later. Everything after work was always a little blurry.

Then, all of a sudden, there was a knock at the door, and Linda came in, looking apologetic.

'Hi Melody.' she said, hands clasped behind her, holding something. 'How are you doing?'

'Excellent!' Melody said. 'Today was a wonderful day of work! Are you alright Linda?'

'I'm really sorry.' she began. 'Adam has decided that your lateness today, which I so stupidly caused, needs to be punished further.' she brought out the rope from behind her back. 'He wants you tied up, arms behind, every night and morning for the rest of this week.'

Melody gasped. 'Oh! Well I suppose if Adam wants it it's reasonable, and it will help me learn my lesson.'

Linda held back tears. 'Oh, thank you for being so understanding Melody. Here, these should reduce any chafing,' Linda held something in her other hand. They were gloves, white and made of something similar to satin, and when Melody put them on, they came all the way up past her elbows, and wrapped her skin in a delicious, soft coating.

Melody put her arms behind her back. In a second Linda was wrapping knots around the silky cuffs of her blouse, patiently, slowly tightening the loops so her wrists were bound and pinned cleanly.

'He also wants your ankles together.' Linda said. 'I'm sorry if this is too much for you.'

'It's okay.' Melody said, clacking her heels together obediently. 'I can take it.'

So soon her ankles were bound in a similar position, with chords wrapping around the bottom of her heels to fix them in place. Then Linda eased her onto her bed, tucked her in under the sheets, and thanked her for her cooperation.