The Teamviewer Mature Files

That didn't keep Marcus from coming in, push in a brand-new glider rocker and take a seat by the door. He plopped his feet up on the corner of Amy's desk, and started playing on an I-pad. Christ, it looked like he was guarding the door, for crying out loud.

He's just getting out of the way like we are. I had to tell myself. Otherwise, his presence blocking the door was intimidating and made me feel like a grounded child.

Outside the door, people were banging, items were being rolled across the floor, and soon I even heard workers under our feet, messing around in the basement. Once someone banged something down there so hard that a wall shook.

"Save things every few minutes," I said. "If they keep this up, the electric is going to go."

Marcus laughed. He mumbled with a chuckle, "The electric is gonna go, huh!" He seemed likeable, but also a third wheel.

"If everyone isn't at a good place to stop, I suggest you get there, sissies," Linda's voice came over the speakers, startling even Marcus.

I felt my heart jump into my throat. She'd not done that with everyone present, before, though I'd realized we'd all probably been caught by her same trap, long ago.

Everyone's screen still showed accounting data.

"Hurry now, don't doddle saving your work. I'm not interested in interrupting anyone mid-calculation. Two minutes."

Then what? Maybe she wanted a company meeting; I mean, other than just among the stockholders. I decided to breathe, and found the last line in my work, closing a spreadsheet I'd been making for the delivery service.

"There now." All of our screens turned blue. The ones in front of each person turned to camera shots of Mistress Linda in jeans, but with a top with a low front, showing her incredible cleavage. I realized that while all the camera shots were mostly from the front, they were at slightly different angles. She had four cameras, it seemed, no amateur setup to be certain. Company meeting, my ass.

"By now you must at least suspect how we all came to be in one place. That's right, Teamviewer. Well, those mistakes for you are the past; we're moving on. All my white accountant sissies together, for example." She smiled and touched a breast. "I believe I've actually done you more than one favor and created one happy family. Isn't this a perfect little hobble of sissyness? I'm so proud of my work. Your piddling little individual efforts have now become something larger and meaningful. Not everything is destructive, gurls. I consider myself a smart business person, bringing preferred lifestyle and prosperity to an expanding number of people, so that we might all be fulfilled."

We were dumbfounded. All of us, I could tell by the drool.

"Smiles, sissies. I want some nods of thanks, at least."

Shit. We all had to do that, and while Marcus was over in front of the door, having put down his I-pad and with a grin that now looked very sinister... maybe by accident. We were, of course, a bit ridiculous. He crossed his arms, showing bulging muscles. Even at fifty, I was betting he could clout us all.

Outside of our room, electric saws were whining and hammers nailing. People, seeming like a herd, kept banging through the hallway. Whatever they were doing was massive. There had to be ten men out there wailing into the walls and moving stuff in my house.

I decided to smile and say, "Welcome, Mistress Linda." I mean, why not; she was right. At least two of us would have been unemployed without her, and my shares in the business ensured I'd make millions and retire in fire years, tops. Of course, getting out of this tiny room would help immensely, and from the sound of the labor outside, soon. "We appreciate your efforts."

"You are so welcome, Joe. Now, everyone back to work. I can hear that things are kind of hectic, so I promise not to bother you too much and just ring Marcus when I want something done." The screens returned to our accounting wallpaper. Then, just as suddenly she returned. "I forgot. If all goes well, everyone gets a little wanking time today. I promised. In fact, I've noticed my own neglect. So, if everything goes smoothly, I'll make it a point to not let you gurls go so long without a release. They say every day or two is actually healthy."

Nobody spoke.

"Oh, come on." She chuckled like she meant to enliven the tension. "Can't you at least say, 'Thank you, Mistress Linda?'"

We all did that, almost instinctively, and were only embarrassed to tears about it afterwards because of how we'd been made to say it collectively and in front of Marcus. I couldn't even look his direction, it was so mortifying.

We returned to work. I couldn't even bring myself to tell one of the others to run a new batch of numbers for the appliance repair service I'd just gotten in, doing them myself. For the moment, just keeping shut and working seemed the best way to get the color back in my face.

Twenty minutes later Marcus's phone rang. He'd only quit humming, 'I'm a Little Teapot,' a minute prior, rubbing in the joke.

"Yes. Are you sure? Alright. No, no, I don't mind." Marcus put his big hand over the phone and said to Amy. "Linda wants you to take off your top. She says you look too hot and might overheat."

Amy put a finger to her chest and mouthed, "Who? Me?"

"Just the top. It's her idea. I'll look the other way, if you want."

Well, at least Marcus was being a gentleman about it, Amy might have been thinking.

Amy had been wearing a thick cotton white shirt. While still a regular dress shirt, we'd all opted for the thickest we could find to mostly hide the bra straps. She/he started unbuttoning it, looking sheepish with each manipulation of the fingers. Finally, at the end, Amy un-tucked the shirt and slipped it off his/her arms, leaving only the bra on top. Shoot, it was almost the same big, white, three-hook Playtex housewife model I had on.

Better her/him, than me. Maybe Mistress Linda had a different deal with Amy than the rest of us.

I felt sorry for her, nonetheless, and refused to comment about it, going back to my work as if nothing had just happened.

"I'm sorry," Amy said to the rest of us, eventually.

Marcus remained by the door. Wait a minute? Why, exactly is he here? Oh, that's right, as a gopher. And he was just in here to be out of the way, today, where everyone worked. I had to keep explaining that to myself because his presence just felt so weird, coupled with the femdom deal that sat under the rug, so to speak. I felt sure a chat with Linda about his presence was waited for a time when he wasn't in here.

Teamviewer Femdom File

By jo199

Chapter Seven.

Marcus's I-pad made a new chirping sound, and he punched up an e-mail. "Apparently she's paying attention through some kind of camera, boys." He looked up into the corners of the room, finally spotting one over his head by the door. He chuckled. "Sorry, but she wants someone named Betty to take off her top." He shrugged. "Just pretend like I'm not here. I know how she is. It don't mean nothing."

Betty glanced from me to Marcus and back. "What should I do?"

"If you ask me," Marcus said, "I'd do what she wants. It's just a shirt, and it is getting hot in here, anyways." Marcus, maybe out of sympathy, took off his own shirt, leaving a sleeveless wife-beater t-shirt on. He had a stomach, but was mostly meat. Likely he'd worked out through much of his life and might have been a linebacker or something similar.

Betty took off his/her shirt and folded it neatly, laying it on a work table behind the three workstation desks at which we other three sat. Apparently Linda had asked us all to wear the big white bra variation instead of something Victoria Secret.

Ten minutes later Debbie was topless other than bra and back to work.

"Who's SissyMaid?" Marcus said after a third e-mail.

Fuck!

Marcus noticed the expression and wiggled his finger with a little spin then pointed to my shirt. He had a bit of a smirk.

Everyone had stopped working, and was looking at me, the boss, being told, third hand, by an e-mail Mistress to expose his bra.

I felt dizzy and hyperventilating while I unbuttoned my shirt and exposed the bra that everyone had to have known was coming. We'd all come dressed in the plain housewife, triple-hook variety. I sat back down and kept working, though my head was abuzz with embarrassment.

We were four sissy gurls, pecking away like bimbo-slut secretaries, sitting with only bras for shirts. I was almost glad Linda had had me effectively on a diet the past few weeks because I had almost no gut left, allowing me to at least not look as dumpy as Betty still did. The other two were thin as rails, oddly so, like they'd been on diets a while. If you're going to make a fool out of yourself, you'd just as soon not do it along every possible dimension.

"I hope nobody tries to come in here," I said to everyone.

All five of us chuckled, though four of us nervously.

"I knew I had a reason for hiring on, here." Marcus smiled. "Protector of the pussy realm from the working stiffs."

"Our savior," Debbie joked.

We all laughed at ourselves and what he/she'd said.

His e-mail chirped. "She says to quit with the humor, and get to work. I'd do it if I were you. I think she's having one of those... you know... days."

We all sobered up. Accounting took place for another hour.

Chirp!

"She's feeling frisky. Pants."

"What?" Betty asked.

Debbie felt the need to apologize for god knows what reason. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, gurls. Off with the pants, the lady says. She's our boss," He said like he was being asked to pants himself, too. He put down his I-pad.

"What if someone comes in?" Debbie asked.

Marcus cupped his mouth and whispered, "I think she means to have me open the door and yell for company, if you're not cooperative. I know how she thinks."

I closed my eyes and took a breath. Alright, everyone here was in the same fix. Was it really worse than sitting around in bras? I pushed back my chair and unbuckled my pants. When I opened my eyes I found the others doing the same, like they meant to follow the boss's lead. Pants fell to the floor. I folded mine and put them on the spare table alongside my shirt, which I knew to be Linda's way of doing things. Everything had to be neat.

"Shoes."

We added those to the table without a fuss. Everyone was in sheer, white knee-highs and white granny panties. Today's color code: white and large. Obviously Mistress Linda had pre-arranged our coordinated underwear show. Believe it or not, I resumed work with a growing erection in the chastity device. The good thing was it was hard to tell because the chastity made the same embarrassing ribbed shape, regardless. Maybe I was shrinking due to the continual pressure?

At least she'd promised to have that removed by the end of the day. I determined to not mess that up. If Marcus had to watch our ugly butts, it was his problem. I knew I wasn't getting a thrill out of the sight of Betty, Amy and Debbie, so why should he? Alright, I was a little.

While in the midst of creating a debts unpaid ledger in the program, I heard the door open and watched Marcus step out with all our clothing.

"Shit!" Betty said. She was the smallest of us all, and seemed to be cowering in the corner workstation.

All the screens flipped to Mistress Linda's face. "Who spoke in that unladylike fashion?"

We all sobered a lot, eyes twitching side to side. I had no idea what worse thing she could do to us, but we were not in a position to haggle.

"Sorry, Mistress Linda," Betty said.

"Apology accepted, but I want no more attitude from you, bitch. Stoic work faces for the rest of the day, slaves. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SISSIES? This is a business, not a brothel. I want some serious slave labor from each of you. If as much as the corner of a mouth twitches...!"

"Yes, Mistress Linda," we all said together, telling me that we'd all had the exact same conditioning.

"Now, Betty, until I tell you otherwise, put your fuck finger in your mouth and do your work with one hand."

"Mistress—"

"I suggest the left one."

"Yes, Mistress Linda." Betty put her left middle finger in her mouth.

"Knuckle deep, sissy!"

He did.

"In and out a little."

Betty started fucking her face with her fuck finger. It was awful, so I looked at the screen instead.

"You all know that if you are good little sissies, you will get a reward, today. Just so we're all on the same page."

"Yes, Mistress Linda."

This was not what I'd imagined when she'd mentioned a wank with the device off.

Marcus came back, did a double take at Betty and laughed.

Nobody joined him in his levity because it had been forbidden to laugh or even smile to save face.

He noticed that and shrugged. The man took a seat. After a moment he said, "Your shoes were smelly," seemingly explaining why he'd confiscated our clothing. If Tosha walked in here I'd never be able to have a meaningful conversation with her again. This was no way for fellow professionals to oversee the staff.

Marcus looked at his I-pad. Apparently a message had come in out of the blue. "Betty, if you don't do what Linda said to do, deeper, really bad things are apt to happen." After another pause, he added, "I'm just saying," like he wasn't fifty pounds of muscle bigger than us and guarding the door.

Betty started moving her fuck finger a little more, while trying to concentrate on pecking his/her keyboard with a finger on the other hand. Her work was down to less than half speed.

"Panties down. Leave them around the ankles, gurls," said the main computer speaker.

Right on the heels of that, Marcus reached into his bag and pulled out a key ring. "I know what she's up to, now. It's your lucky day, gurls."

I felt like an idiot when I lowered my granny panties to my ankles. The chastity device clinked on the chair when I regained my seat. The seat felt unusually cool on my naked backside.

Marcus said, "She says to keep them like that, so you'll know your sissy meat is safe in the little jails."

###

Betty got to quit the sucking thing after an hour. Then it was sheer work. The more I focused on my work the less I had to think. Thinking was not good. We might have done two day's work by an hour after noon. Someone knocked on the door.

"Don't worry. I'll get it." Marcus left again. He came back with Wendy's salads topped with nuts, apple slices and a spattering of chicken. We had to share one package of dressing. The way my stomach was in a knot, the starvation diet was fine with me.

About the time we finished eating next to nothing, work on the outside grew quite.

"Everyone's gone to lunch. Potty break, if anyone's interested."

We ventured out, one by one, using the bathroom. The floor was littered with tools and boards. The place was a disaster. I glanced into my new bedroom and noticed it clear of everything. They'd put a coating of pinkish paint on the walls, which was the same in the other bedroom, only the start of four more workstations was materializing along opposing walls and Tosha's desk was gone.

Out in the naked living room, the front door was gone and a large bedroom extension being added to the front of the house in its place. It might have been an efficiency apartment because plumbing was going in. They were parking a new front door on the other side of that, so we'd have to go through there to exit.

The kitchen/dining area was being remodeled into a single space with new appliances and a new dining table with footpad rail all around it, like some kind of bar that might seat ten people all around it. The chairs were missing, as was everything else. I didn't see a single thing of mine anywhere in the house. Apparently they'd boxed it up and moved it outside to make the work go faster. Where would we sleep? I did my potty break and cowered back into the room with more questions in my head than prior.

###

During the afternoon, a nurse showed up. She was dark, short and old and ugly, and I got the impression, nearly unemployable. Still, she took us into the bathroom, one by one and did our vitals. We bent over and let her probe our butts and testicles, which I suspect she found amusing. . Part of the exam was a blood draw, six tubes worth, almost to the point where I got dizzy.

I had to stand in the tub so she could take profile, front and back photos of me, god only knows why. She did the same with my face, being very precise, like one of those plastic surgeons had given her training in it.

Last but not least, she had an app on her I-pad for taking my finger prints. "We're doing background checks on all the employees," she mentioned before swatting me on the ass and sending me back across the hall.

We finished the exams in the nick of time. The workers returned from a long lunch and the banging picked up. The door stayed closed until dark.

###

We had to sleep on blankets and pillows in the small pink bedroom because everything was still in disarray that night. At least in the bedrooms the primer paint was dry and some new carpet laid. They were mostly done inlaying ceiling lights. Electrical work in the wall suggested this might be a third office.

We had another salad. When I checked in the kitchen, the electric for the empty refrigerator wasn't even on.

There were no working lamps other than one studio light and a cot in the living room. Marcus said, "The door's a piece of plywood. I'll keeping guard out here."

We showered in the dark and put the same bras, panties and stockings on.

I woke up dog tired in the middle of the night, surrounded by sleeping sissies. "Jesus, what's going on?" My world seemed to have narrowed to nothing but a blanket and a computer.

More of the same the next day. Marcus was playing video games on his I-pad by the door, as the workers returned.

Mistress Linda came onto all the screens. "Morning sissies."

"Mistress Linda, what's going on?" I chanced.

"Temporary inconvenience, SissyMaid. Everything will just go faster if you stay out of the way. It won't be long and we'll have you all sorted out."

Marcus spoke up. "I said as much." He smirked at me, the boss. What kind of example was Linda setting?

"Things will come to the new normal by the end of the day," said Linda, "they assured me."

"It's pretty intolerable over here," I said by means of bitching.

She put down a flower pot. "Oh, that's right. I forgot it was wanking day."

Somehow, my face grew another shade of pale.

"Alright, panties around the ankles."

Oh God! What choice did we have?

"You know, I didn't completely forget. Marcus, did you bring the keys?"

"Right here, Linda." He'd been wearing a cheap chain necklace, pulling it out from under his shirt collar. Four tiny keys dangled off it.

"Well, hand them over so my slaves can get to their widdle clities."

Fuck, this was so wrong. We each took turns sorting through the keys and unlocking the locks. It was actually painful taking mine off.

"Oh my God. I ain't never seen one of those before," Marcus said when I cringed from pain while pulling the cage free, the tube down the middle of my shaft sliding out like I was being fucked in reverse by a nail.

I pulsed my penis muscles, but I wasn't sure the gaping hole in my dick, left by the removed urethra device, would close anytime soon. I could feel air blowing up it. I wondered if it'd burn when I peed. But, my dick was finally free. I don't think I even cared that Marcus was gawking at us. After all, he didn't gawk long, or else he'd have outed himself as gay or something.

"Now isn't that better. Give those to Marcus, why don't you. He can decide if you need them back or not."

Huh?

"Now, on with the favorite loser pastime." She laughed. "You know, real men are out there bedding women, but not you sissies. You had a better idea on what to make love with, didn't you. Reinvented your purpose."