To Work to Live as a Gurl

Part 1: Work is, well...work!

It has been just another week in a "work-from-home/work-from-work" world. Routine reports, check-ins with branch offices, answering questions from staff members and "managing up" to the powers that be. 3-days a week of zoom calls and emails and conference calls and 2-days a week in the office, trying to stay truly connected and hit this year's challenging corporate goals.

All was going pretty normally when my boss called on Tuesday and asked for the monthly report from Region 4...it wasn't in the normal weekly "Monday" regional reporting package. Normally I double check the packages myself from each team and scrutinize the accuracy of data then assemble it, summarize the results and forward the completed set for all 7 of our company operating regions myself. But, last week was crazy busy and I thought it was time I delegated the repetitive project to my most reliable and hard-working team member, Barbara.

As a female supervisor, it is such a pleasure to have another female working for me that is so competent, cheerful and such a pleasure to be around; she has never not delivered on any project exactly as asked and her work is always so conscientious and exacting. And, more personally, as a gurl-in-transition myself, I especially appreciate not having to deal with complex gender issues with Barb, she is always discreet, professional and very private. While I have always wondered a bit about her personal life, I have remained professionally focused and never inquired about her genetic or chosen gender. She dresses as any professional lady on office days as well as on conference calls. In fact I honestly can't tell whether she is a very understanding genetic female or a very passable T-gurl herself; again, we are professionals and such intimate private conversations have never been part of my work persona.

But back to the Monday report. Once I got the call, I immediately apologized for the screw up to my un-forgiving boss. He said, "fix it...and fix it today...or else." And in today's COVID-impacted world, I knew every mistake could be grounds for cost cutting...as in chopping heads... of any poor-performing staff members.

When I saw what had been sent, I saw the omission of the 4th region and so there were errors of any attempt to summarize the data and thus provide management with accurate insights for their weekly strategy meetings. I was in deep trouble. But then I also saw a few data points that only I might notice that should have been double checked before being included as is.

I first "covered my butt" with my boss: I called him and said, "Sorry, I mistakenly sent an early draft, so sorry...and I will send the correct version before going home tonight." He bought it, thankfully.

Then it was time to fix things. 9 hours later...a weekly report that is usually compiled in 2 days...was finally done...and sent as required. It was 1am, Wednesday. I was exhausted, invigorated by my own ability to get it right on my own... but also very disappointed in Barbara. What to say? And when? And how? And what should be her penalty for putting my job at risk and having to lose an entire day of productivity?

The next day in the afternoon I called her. Further disappointed to have to leave a message: "Barbara, this is Marsha at work. I have a problem. Please call me back ASAP." Now I am even more upset. Maybe she needs to be demoted? Or maybe a pay cut to help her understand what will result from not doing exactly as I ask of her?

A had to wait an hour for her call back. I was very...VERY upset by the time she returned the call.

"Hello Marsha, I just heard your message. Sorry, I had to deal with a plumber so sorry, I couldn't pick up or return your call sooner."

"Well, Barbara...we can talk about your attention to my calls later." I then explained the entire work fiasco. At first she tried to excuse her inattentiveness...but by the time I walked through all the issues, she was almost in tears. I said, "Stop that...this is work. But I want you in the office bright and early tomorrow. Be at my office by 8am." And then I hung up abruptly...so ticked off and so disappointed in what I had hoped was my up-and-coming best team member.

It was Friday at 7:30 am...I was going over my daily to-do list and thinking about what to do to train and develop Barbara. As I am considering my options, I hear a knock at my door. I see Barbara...early, at least...with two Starbucks on a tray...standing in my doorway. I say "come in, close the door and have a seat."

She does so. And offers me coffee. I accept it with a simple thanks. She is very properly dressed and sits demurely and is quiet. I am trying to decide where to start and notice her eyes looking down into her lap and her shoulders are hunched forward, white blouse unbuttoned down to the top of her white bra. Her light brown hair is lightly curled and I catch a slight wisp of a pleasant floral fragrance. I see the shape of her legs from hip to ankle and for the first time realize how attractive she is...when her eyes are not red from crying.

I explain my problem and how it is also her problem. I explain that my boss is trying to decide who is to be promoted and who will be let go in these difficult times...and explain that I too, will have that responsibility to make recommendations later in the year. I was going to announce my decision to put her on probation with a small salary cut...to drive home my need for her improving her performance...when she blurts out:

"Marsha, I am soooo sorry! I screwed up. I was in a hurry to do something personal and just sent the materials on to you without doing any of the double-checking you had taught me I needed to do. I will never mess up again! Please ...I NEED this job and...and...ugh... working for another t-gurl is such a rare gift, my being one as well. I never feel self conscious about my gender choices here...It is such a relief...I could never find a job like this that would allow me to dress as a woman while I save for reassignment surgery to complete my transition!"

Wow! What a mouthful! I am blown away!!! First, also as a gurl, I am very private and try to be 100% fem all the time...and especially at work. So I was shocked anyone, much less Barbara knew my private story. Second, this cute woman is also transitioning! My God...she is so beautiful! But, third, now what? Do I stay a proper boss? Do I just excuse it with a warning? I clearly understand her career/gender concerns...but work is work and personal is...personal.

Then she looks up from her lap and says..."Marsha, I will do anything for you to forgive me this one time. And I mean anything...professional or otherwise. I NEED this job and I will never mess up again!"

So I look at her again...and think...for several minutes while she waits for my decision with tears again streaming down her cheek.

I break the silence. "What WAS so important that you took a shortcut on your office project?"

"Well...honestly...it was Monday and Monday night is my club night. A few other gurls and I go to a club and have fun and this Monday was a special theme and I wanted to fit in."

"You mean you blew off my project to do your makeup and dress more slutty? Where are your priorities?" I said.

"Well, actually, Monday night this week was special. It was slave night. I wanted to be a perfect slave and it was my first time preparing. I had to procure, put on and apply all the right clothes, restraints, bring a few toys...and put on sexy makeup, heels and clothes," said Barbara.

"Slave? As in maid, sex slave, bondage subject? Really? What all does your club allow?"

"Well, when I was Bob instead of Barbara, I used to participate in all kinds of domination scenes when I was fully cross-dressed. I would be a maid, yes...and a sex slave for both men or women...and I enjoy being spanked and tied up and down to accept whatever punishment that my Master or Mistress decided I needed. The club we go has an even wider scope...anyone for anything in fact."

Again...WOW! A staff member that messed up at work just told me that she enjoys being subservient and doing anything anyone requires of her because she likes being a bottom. She also figured out I am gender fluid and is herself transitioning to female. I would feel terrible reprimanding her formally given all she has said. But she needs to be taught a lesson.

"Let me think about you...and all you have said. You have always been a model employee. My main issue now is that as your boss I need to know you understand how serious this screw up was...if only to help you never...ever... do it again. And as a fellow "gurl"...I can relate to your issues but again, you need to be taught to do as you are told."

"I understand" Barbara said.

"Come back to my office at 5 pm...I will decide during the day today. Now get back to work".

Barbara stands...and as she leaves I notice for the first time how her hips shift as she walks in her 4-inch heels and how she so naturally tosses her hair to the side as she turns to say goodbye and say thank you for my time. Her perfect makeup, ruby lips and respectful demeanor...are an unexpected cause for a moderated decision. I tap my nails on my desk as the door closes behind her. What to do?

At 4:55. There is again a knock on my door. I have thought all day about this moment. And now, it is I that is apprehensive.

"Come in," I say. "Oh, hello, Barbara."

Barbara sits...again demurely, eyes cast down, subserviently. Her look is so willing to serve...what I had seen weeks ago as a willingness to do whatever to get ahead...is now a willingness to do whatever is asked of her...anything...and that I am the primary recipient of that responsibility.

"OK...Barbara. Next week. On Monday you will come to work as usual and we will work together all day to complete the weekly project. But each Tuesday-Thursday for the foreseeable future you will come to my home instead of telecommuting. I will personally train you in all aspects of what I will need you to do for me. This will help you learn diligence and to anticipate my desires. Do you understand?

"Yes...Mistress" she says quietly.

"Mistress?"

"Oh...I am sorry, Marsha. But the way you were speaking to me reminded me of how professional tops talk to their bottoms."

"Very well then," I say with some ironic humor to my voice... "see you here on Monday and at my home...here is the address...on Tuesday."

"Oh...and I dress for work at home. So should you. Wear an outfit that prepares you to serve ...and it must include stockings and heels, the higher the better. Your makeup should be flawless ...and be prepared for anything I might have for you to do."

"Yes, Mistress Marsha, I will arrive in a clothes that will meet your requirements."

"Very well, slave. And be on time like any other work day or there will be consequences."

"Yes, Mistress Marsha."

Monday is just another day in another week in a "work-at-home/work-at-the-office" world. Routine reports, check-ins with branch offices, answering questions from staff members and "managing up" to the powers that be. We get the report done expertly. Barbara seems to already have learned a lesson.

But I owe her the training I promised if she is ever to avoid further performance issues and to truly get ahead as her brains and beauty should allow her.

Part 2: Working from home

Tuesday dawns as any other workday but with the expectation of something new, exciting and potentially sensual.

When I wake, I make myself squeaky-clean myself inside with an enema, douche and shower and of course primp a while...but instead of my normal casual panties and bra under a low cut blouse and tight, stretchy skirt and low heels...I dress in clothes specially laid out the night before: a lacy shelf bra, tiny lacy thong, thigh-high sheer stockings with a seam at the back held up by a lacy garter belt...and a proper, boned waist cincher to emphasize my curves...all in black. 5-inch heels, dark red nails and lips, a distinctively dark, aromatic perfume to match dark eyes and my slightly curled blond hair at shoulder length. My dress is short but not too short, covering the tops of my stockings also allowing for some cleavage and even the occasional view of an excited nipple. Silver hoop earrings, a modest silver and clear stone costume necklace and matching bracelet in one wrist and large cocktail ring on my other hand.

I had also prepared a workspace for my "assistant."

A simple sturdy chair and strong Parsons table in a well lit room. On an series of wall shelves across the room were a variety of toys that I have personally found to be entertaining: partial and full eyeshades, ass plugs (both metal and rubber), small, medium, large and extra large dildos, some with tubes attached to pumps to simulate ejaculating male forms, clothes pins and more classic (and strong) nipple clamps and nipple suction devices, slave collars (short and soft as well as large and firm), a leash, several lengths of soft black cotton rope, wrist and ankle straps with elaborate 2-layered fasteners, a small, low-level electro stimulation machine with sticky nipple pads, a "Wartenberg" spiked sensation wheel, a pink, hard plastic locking chastity device and of course, a ball gag, riding crop, flat leather paddle and a Hitachi vibrator. Incidentals also include some plastic tape, duct tape, a large marking pen, a large bottle of lube and a few roles of clear medical tape.

The setting appropriately readied, I wait with anticipation for my "assistant."

It is 8 am and there is no Barbara. Has she had a second thought...and so possibly should I about her future? Assistants are expected to be on time.

I look down at the table readied for my assistant. On it is a list of policies to be followed that I review but become exasperated by her already having failed rule #1.

1.You must be prompt and quickly complete all tasks immediately.

2.You must refer to your Mistress as Mistress Marsha and if you are asked about your opinion or needs, you must say "Mistress's slave would like to request...____."

3.You must otherwise speak only when spoken to.

4.You must not touch your own body for sexual pleasure or stimulation with out permission.

5.You must keep your makeup flawless and keep your body clean and fresh inside and out.

6.You must wear whatever is required and nothing more.

7.You must do and act as you are told without question

8.You must not tell anyone else about any arrangements or activities with your Mistress.

9.You understand that disobeying rules will be punished at the discretion and to the extent of Mistress Marsha's whims.

10.You shall select a series of safe words: recommended, "yellow, yellow, yellow" for slow down or let me have a few moments for whatever reason, and "red, red, red" for please stop immediately.

11.Understand that use of "red, red, red" more than once a day will invalidate all other arrangements and training will permanently end.

The doorbell rings at 8:40 am.

As I open the door, you first open your eyes wide at how I am dressed. Then you start to blather away with all the reasons you were late. I ask you politely to step inside and close the door.

I tell you to remove your coat and see that you are reasonably well dressed as a proper slave/French maid for your first day of service. Hair up, with a cute lacy hair band in place, black low cut short dress, black sheer bra with breast forms (with nipples showing through). The dress is also flared at the waist with several white petticoats underneath as well as thigh-high fishnet hose, sheer panties with ruffles at the back, white lace and black ribbon wristlets and choker and high heels that are too improbably high to allow completion of any meaningfully efficient work. (That makes them perfect, I think to myself....as well as acknowledging to myself just how comely you are dressed.)

"You will do." I say. "But the infraction of tardiness needs immediate attention."

I attach a collar to your neck and a leash as well. I tug gently for you to follow me to an adjoining room.

"This is your workspace."

Please read the list of rules and sign the bottom as Slave Barbara. (And you do so with eyebrows raised as you casually examine the document.)

"So, slave, because you were late, you know you need to be punished?"

"Yes, Mistress Marsha."

"Lie down across the table." You comply and I pick up the riding crop and begin to trace the top of your stockings and lift your skirt to better see your panties...and without explanation, I reach under your skirt and grab the top of your frilly panties...and pull them down to your thighs. I see the sweet white tight ass muscles quiver with excitement....and even your boiupussy flexing in anticipation of some entry in the near future. I reach under you and pull your boiclit back and down. It stiffens as your anticipation grows. But instead of anything like a sweet release, I use my riding crop to redden your ass with 10 swats, intentionally grazing your boiclit a few times... and I include a few extra smacks to all that unneeded labia major-type skin sacks hanging below your clit. I am impressed with your resolve and grit as you do not cry or whine. But then again, being so late offended me greatly and you must have known this lesson was coming. (And possibly you were even intentionally late so as to earn my wrath?)

After the spanking, I tell you to lie still. You hear me pick up something metallic and I open and close some scissors not far from your ears so as to be sure you hear them. I press the scissors against your ass, your leg...your boiclit and 'snip-snip" ...your panties fall to the floor. I tell you to stand and let me see how well you walk as a sexy gurl towards me. You cross over your steps carefully in your heels and then turn, as if on a runway...so professional I think...and walk towards me with one hand on a hip and the other as if airing your drying nail polish. So feminine! I tell you to stop just inches from my chest.

"Now, my slutty assistant, show me what you really want."

You put your hands on my thighs, just below my hemline...you then run your hands up my nylon clad legs and across my ass ad hook your thumbs into my thong panties and slowly pull down my thing exposing my own boiclit. You proceed to lick the tip...then the top from head to base...then move your mouth to my extra large labia hanging beneath the clit...you suck and lick there for minutes...as I grown. You move to lick both sides and tip and bottom of the clit and then return to the head. You allow me to push most of me into your mouth...all the way to my base and then you and I groan simultaneously.

"Play with my ass," I then require. And in response you move one hand first to your mouth for lubrication then to my boipussy hole. You slowly enter me with you finger as you continue to suck and lick my clit. And as you do, I grow increasingly hard and longer.

You plunge your middle finger into my ass like a good assistant...willing to do anything to bring her Mistress pleasure. With that move I explode into your mouth and onto your lips and cheeks and jaw.

I pull away and then push back close and tell you to lick me clean. Then, thinking of you, I inquire as to your readiness to orgasm? You say, "Yes...I am so very ready" and I respond. Please stand. I reach back, pump some lube onto my hand then start to stroke your boiclit....but as I do, I first slip a ring around your labia major skin hanging below your boiclit then press a penis-shaped container onto you and lock it tightly to the ring. You are now my concubine and I place the chastity device's key around my neck on a chain.

Next I open your mouth and push a ball gag into your open, cum covered face and turn around and tell you to lick my ass...to rim me and I had better feel your tongue and its wetness irrespective of the ball gag. I push my ass into your face and you groan and lick and push saliva out he sides of your mouth to lubricate me. I am very impressed, indeed. You are learning to be more obedient with every moment!