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Office Politics: Owen’s Market Research
1. Office Sissy: Market Research
Owen listened to Ms Bramley drone on. He liked Ms Bramley but she’d been through this several times. She had a prepared script and liked the repetition. He couldn’t believe her stamina. He was getting tired and sore. “You will need to stay in character throughout,” he heard her intone above him. Why did she feel the need to tell him that? Maybe she just wanted to prolong the briefing for her own reasons? After his Foundation Course at RADA he knew about method acting. The Academy might have rejected him for the BA course, but surely it couldn't be that difficult playing the part of an ingénue secretary. “It’s important.”
“Yes, Ms Bramley,” he acknowledged. He licked his lips before resuming his studies. Now that he understood his mission he simply wanted to get on with it though he still had questions that needed answering.
It was his mother who’d suggested that he apply to be an office boy at Lumina Cosmetics. ‘Something to get you started if you’re not going to become an actor’, she’d said and ‘keep you occupied’, while he thought about getting ‘a proper job’ as she called it. Even though he’d been rather ineffective in the mail room at Lumina – ‘a liability’ as his supervisor put it when pleading with HR to transfer him to other duties – Lumina management seemed to have spotted his potential and found him a place in their secretarial pool. It was Lumina HR who’d sent him to Bergman & Knightley for training.
“We’ve had a disappointing downturn at a number of our key accounts,” continued Ms Bramley. “We need to understand why. There’s been a conspicuous drop at Lumina Cosmetics. Fortunately they’ve sent you to us. They used to take a B&K Boy from us every year but seem to have decided to go their own way this year. We know from our customer database that both footfall and sales have declined amongst the Lumina ladies. We’ve also seen fewer referrals to Fem-Me for any of their young gentlemen, although your presence shows they clearly still want some of our services. That’s reassuring but overall it’s still very concerning.”
“Yes, Ms Bramley,” said Owen, taking a moment to draw breath.
“We know that B&K has been criticised for some of our sales techniques. It’s been bad enough losing a portion of our make-over trade to Fem-Factory although fortunately our Creative Director, Andy Latex, seems to have smoothed out that relationship. We can’t afford any more breakaways like Rhys Jenner setting up on their own. They might not all be as amenable to Andy’s smooth tongue. By the way, Owen, your technique is definitely improving.” He lifted his head, expecting some respite, but could only grunt an appreciative acknowledgement before Ms Bramley’s hands pushed him back down. “But there’s still opportunity for enhancement. You may continue while I finish your briefing. Turning on again now….”
Owen resumed his lapping as the quiet buzzing resumed. His whole body started to rock as the buzz became a rhythmical pulse.
“It’s possible customers like Lumina have grown frustrated by the selling techniques of some of our reps and want a change. They’re clearly experimenting with the open market rather than being tied to Bergman and Knightley . We can’t afford to lose our position as the market leader in fetish wear, feminisation and fembois.”
“Yes, Ms Bramley,” he gasped as he pulled back to gulp down some much needed air before being drawn back within her thighs.
“We need to understand whether it’s lack of technique of our more recent B&K Boys. Have we been pushing them through the training programme too quickly? Are they lacking sufficient practical experience leaving them deficient in the necessary skills, or have they been getting the wrong kind of experience? It’s clear that lax discipline in our dormitories has left some highly proficient in certain areas and lacking in others. We’ve received feedback that some of our recent B&K Boys have become rather lazy. It can only be due to allowing them too much recreation time together. For example, it’s quite obvious that you’ve been practising too much on your colleagues which is why you’ve needed this remedial coaching on one of the primary tasks of a B&K Boy.”
“I know deepthroating is a laudable skill, especially if you’re going to be in a household with an active husband or butler, or auctioned to a Master, but you can become too passive. You need to be more active with ladies. Remember your primary purpose! Think what it was like when you sucked your first boyfriend.” He was frustrated that she always said this: he’d never had a boyfriend. He still hadn’t, even if he’d become friendly with the more dominant Boys in the dorm after coming to B&K for secretarial training. “You’ll have licked, of course, but I’m sure your spent most of the time with your head bobbing up and down his shaft. I know some of your friends in the dorm still yearn for the sensation of full penetration but just kneeling like you do when you have a cock down your throat isn't going to work when it comes to the ladies. Understand?”
“Yes, Ms Bramley,” he panted between tongue probes.
She burbled on: “Or is it our sales range that has become tired? Does it need a refresh or are there services that we’re failing to provide? Is a new competitor stealing market share? Stealing our ladies? We need you to find this out for us, Owen. I know you’re still an employee of Lumina Cosmetics but you’re now a B&K Boy. You know where your loyalties lie as a Bergman Boy: once a B&K Boy, always a B&K Boy. And you’re so nearly ready to graduate and go back to Lumina as their latest Office Sissy. Ready, but not quite ready.”
Ms Bramley’s thighs released him. He felt sweaty in his latex blouse and drained. His face was drenched. He licked his lips sweeping away the immediate moisture and savouring her musky secretions. As he lifted himself and leaned against the arm of her chair, she crossed her legs to stop more of her juices flowing on to her already damp skirt. “Did I get it right that time?” he asked.
“Not quite. It was good,” Ms Bramley said grudgingly, “but still not what I expect from a topflight B&K Boy.”
“But I was getting hardly any thrust that time.”
“No. That was only 2.” She held up her phone to show him the trace history. “Back under you go and don’t worry, you will get the hang of it. The BumbleBee has certainly helped you get the right rocking motion and we’ve dropped the setting right down from where we started. Keep thinking about the pleasure you get from being spit-roast.”
But ….,” Owen stopped himself just in time. How could he tell her that not only had he never been spit-roast, but that he was still a virgin? A virgin down there and elsewhere although he had become used to wearing his BumbleBee during recent weeks of training. Only his mouth had received an organic invasion. He liked girls and was excited by them, but he’d never actually felt close enough to anyone to get more intimate or even ask. This was the most active he’d ever been with a girl. And this wasn’t a girl: this was a proper lady and he was only with her because she was a B&K instructor. He’d never have the courage even to ask out a lovely lady like her, let alone ask for what he was doing now. Until now, his little adventures in the B&K dorm had been his first proper experiences and they’d been with other boys.
Ms Bramley ignored his tentative response. Had she realised he was a virgin? “It’s why we call the training technique ‘The Spit Roast’. It gets B&K Boys back in the rhythm. B&K Boys should only be passive in one way. Have you ever been spit-roast, Owen?” Was she just teasing him, he wondered? She didn’t wait for him to answer, “Oh well, maybe you and your boyfriend will invite a friend to join you one day. Anyway, the sensation of a Spit Roast ensures you meet the needs of both partners. You’ll find it helpful if a Mistress ever wants to share you with her partner or her husband. It’ll make sure you don't neglect her while you enjoy being fucked.”
“Let’s drop it down to 1 and see how you do. If that works, we can try without the Bumblebee since B&K Boys don’t always wear their plug.”
“Yes, Ms Bramley,” said Owen feeling not just damp and bedraggled but distinctly out of place.
“And I think you should keep your glasses on. I know it may feel a bit uncomfortable and unnatural wearing them down there, but you look so cute and innocent in them: as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth when all the time all you want is a clit or pussy lips. Or, I guess in your case, a cock.”
“Yes, Ms Bramley.” Owen had to agree He did like the way Ms Bramley responded to his attentions. He liked the way she reacted to his licks and kisses and what started with the moisture of his tongue, turned into secreted droplets, and then into little rivulets of girl cum.
“That reminds me, you need to practise keeping a stiff tongue if you’re going to rim your lady friends or your Master.” Owen wondered what rimming meant although he could make a shrewd guess. “We can try that when you’ve got it right at the front. Any questions before we resume?” Ms Bramley asked.
“Ms Bramley, when am I going to start my secretarial training? I’ve only got a few days left here and all I’ve done in the last seven weeks is learn how to dust and hoover, how to make beds, how fold sheets and iron. I’m meant to be joining the secretarial pool at Lumina when I go back. Apart from the uniform, anyone would think I’m training to be a maid rather than secretary.”
“Don’t worry about that darling: they’re complementary skills. Lumina said you were absolutely useless in your previous roles. They’d like to keep it that way. It’ll be part of your charm: an absolutely fucking useless secretary but a gorgeously fuckable Office Sissy. You’ll be the most adorable office accessory. What more could the ladies at Lumina want? We’re making sure you’ll be attentive to all their needs and are equipped for any future career. Now get down again. Remember: tongue out as you go forward. Suck hard as you go back. And after we’ve tried rimming, I think you’ll deserve a little reward. I don't want your knees getting carpet burn. An Office Sissy doesn’t spend all their time below the desk; they also need to bend over the side or kneel on top. As I said, we need to make sure you're gorgeously fuckable.”
2. Office Politics – Return to Sender
He was nervous about his return to Lumina. He’d left Lumina Cosmetics as a Mail boy; he was returning as female boy. He’d left Lumina Cosmetics as a shy, inexperienced young man; he was returning as a shy, inexperienced Office Sissy. He’d left Lumina Cosmetics as a junior in the Mail Room; he was returning as a member of the Secretarial Pool working alongside other girls: girls he’d yearned for from afar when he’d been in the Mail Room. Now he’d be close to them and yet be yearning for something else.
He’d left as a Lumina employee; he was returning as a customer and user of Lumina Cosmetics: wearing make-up had become integral to his identity and who he was. His nervousness was compounded at a deeper level by the changes that he’d gone through during his ‘secretarial’ training at Bergman and Knightley; he was returning as a fully ‘fledged’ B&K Boy. On the one hand, he’d moved up the ladder at Lumina and would now have status as a member of the Secretarial Pool; one the other, he’d moved down. He knew he was going to have to spend a lot of time on his knees. He was also going to be carrying out undercover Market Research for Bergman and Knightley, whatever that might entail. He’d been given no guidance. He could hardly go up to a manager and ask why they weren’t shopping at B&K. Not that he’d have the confidence to speak to them. It didn’t help that he’d been instructed by his B&K instructors to be seen and not heard, to follow instructions and not ask questions. He was to do nothing to arouse suspicions. His duty, as an Office Sissy, was to arouse other things. How on earth could he find out what was going on if he couldn’t ask questions? Still, the new outfit he was wearing was nice: far nicer than the unflattering khaki fatigues of a Mail boy.
Things got off to a difficult start even before his return to work. While he was being trained at B&K, there had been deliveries from Lumina to Owen’s home. First to arrive had been a make-up case. Although it had Owen’s name on it, his mother initially thought he was using his Lumina staff discount and had ordered a present for her. Next to arrive was a dress: a black latex dress with cute white latex cuffs and bow. Owen’s mother heart leapt: had her timid son acquired a girlfriend while he was away at the Secretarial Training School? He’d probably be one of the few males on the course so he’d have the chance to mix and socialise with girls. Deliveries of stockings, suspenders, and lingerie followed. Owen was clearly moving fast. She was starting to think that her only child was a bit of a dark horse. And finally a pair of shoes had been delivered. Not just any shoes: a pair of high heels. Elegant black courts with a 5” heel. Owen was definitely courting a very special girl.
There had been a tough discussion when he arrived home from the course on Sunday evening, ready to start work on Monday. At first his mother hadn’t recognised the tall, pretty girl on her doorstep. It wasn’t his new hair that she noticed first, nor his flowing auburn locks nor his new glasses that transformed his face. It wasn’t his make-up although his intense carmine red lips were extraordinarily kissable. It wasn’t his tight white sweater containing firm little breasts. It was his pair of shiny, clingy black PVC pants and a pair of white platform heels. The girl looked stunning. It was only when he spoke that she realised it was her son. She recoiled. It was Owen, but he looked different. So different. Her boy had changed.
They talked long into the evening. Fortunately Ms Bramley and the ladies at B&K had prepared him for just this kind of conversation. His mother’s initial reluctance slowly turned into acceptance and then recognition that this was the real Owen. There were tears from both of them. Her shy and rather inept boy would be much better as a girl. The evening ended with her holding and hugging him. This was Owen. Her boy. She’d be proud of him whatever he wanted to do, whatever he wanted to be.
Monday morning brought similar worries although it started well with his mother helping him check that his make-up was flawless and his dress properly polished. Mummy paid for a taxi to take him to the Lumina offices for his Return to Work interview with HR. She didn’t want him going on public transport in a dress and high heels. What would people think? A black latex dress at eight-thirty in the morning? Fine if he were going clubbing but for work?
Fortunately his appointment was after the normal start time at Lumina and the street outside the offices was relatively quiet. After paying the driver, Owen’s tight pencil skirt reminded him of his lessons at B&K about getting out of a vehicle: keep your knees and ankles together before pivoting in the car seat and swinging both feet out. He stood tall in his heels as he smoothed and straightened his skirt and appraised the scene: a glass and concrete edifice that was going to be his work home for the foreseeable future. He clenched his buttocks and felt his buttplug rise slightly inside him. He stood tall in the way B&K recommended in their B&K Boy posture guidelines. He was ready.
He navigated the revolving doors and tried to stride with confidence across the atrium. He found to his dismay that the security gate couldn’t identify him. Facial recognition wouldn’t work for him. He was going to have to check in at Reception. Val on the Reception Desk didn’t recognise him either. She’d joined Lumina at the same time as him. She’d obviously been promoted while he’d been away. “Who are you here to see, Miss?” Val asked.
Owen was confused. Miss! Miss? Surely Val recognised him. “It’s me, Val. It’s Owen.”
“Owen. We used to have an Owen here. Used to be on the Mail.”
“Yes, Val, that’s me. Owen Peters.”
“Goodness, Owen! Is it you? I thought I hadn’t seen you in a while. I thought you’d left or been sacked. You’ve changed. Are you here to see someone?”
“I’m still working here. I’m joining the Secretarial Pool,” he said with a sense of pride. “I’m the new Office Sissy,” he added with rather less pride though he was now prepared to accept the title. Ms Bramley had made sure his sissyhood had been hammered into him hard during his final days at B&K. What she started, she let Geoffrey finish. He had to fully accept the thrust of their argument: he was a Sissy. He was a true B&K Boy. Or should that be B&K Sissy? They’d moulded him. Moulded him to fit. A few sessions with Geoffrey had left him a total sissy with sissy cravings, although he hadn’t quite gone into all that detail with Mummy last night. “I’ve got an appointment with HR at nine-fifteen for my Return to Work Interview and Induction.”
“A Sissy? Oh well, I always thought you were a bit different, Owen, but you do look nice. If you can take a seat in the waiting area, I’ll ring up and get someone to meet you. I guess they didn’t bother to inform me since you’re not a new starter. They’ll need to sort out your access pass but in the meantime I’ll let you have a Visitor Pass for today.”
Owen went over to the sofas. While trying to thumb nonchalantly through a copy of Elle, he was surprised by the admiring looks staff and visitors kept giving him as they passed through the atrium. He thought he might get some male admirers but it was the ladies too. All the ladies. Why had none of them looked at him like that when he was a Mail Boy? He’d never merited a second glance back then. What was different now?
After ten minutes, a lady with slicked back blonde hair wearinga cream trouser suit came out through the turnstiles. He recognised her as being someone senior in HR. Owen gulped. She’d been on the interview panel when he’d been recruited. He’d quite fancied her. She might be older than him but she was still a very attractive lady She looked at him briefly before breezing across to speak to Val. The two chatted while they looked at him. Val beckoned to him. Owen stood and felt the full weight of his jewelled metal buttplug. Why did ladies have to admire him now when he was wearing a buttplug? What would they think of him if they knew he was wearing the hallmark of a trained B&K Boy. “This is Owen, Ms Halliday,” said Val, “ready for his Induction.”
“Thank you, I’ll take him up to HR. We’ll do his photos and issue him with a new Security ID. It’s not really surprising that the system didn’t recognise him after a couple of months secretarial training.” Val sniggered.
As Val turned to attended to other visitors, Ms Halliday put her hand on Owen’s arm. “I don’t know whether you remember me, Owen. I was involved in your recruitment.
Owen mumbled, “Yes, Ms Halliday.” He couldn’t believe that such an important lady was speaking to him. He could feel the warmth of her hand. He wasn't used to this. He may have been trained by Ms Bramley but he wasn’t used to a tender touch, least of all from an attractive, important lady. Close proximity with a lady like this was exciting. He averted his eyes trying to stay calm. He was wondering whether he should have accepted one of those devices that B&K had offered. At the time, he’d thought it would be too much, and he had no idea who would hold his key. Perhaps he should ring up B&K and ask for one: Ms Halliday would make such an appropriate key holder but he was getting ahead of himself or at least part of him was. He was glad he was wearing tight latex panties.
“I was responsible for you getting the job. I was the only one to spot your talent, admittedly latent talent.” She gave him a brief sideways look and continued, “I think I’ve been proved right.” Owen’s heart and more began to swell with pride before she added, “Well Owen, are you still as fucking useless as when you worked here before? I do hope so.” She knew how to deflate a boy.
Owen didn’t need to use the Visitor Pass that Val had issued. With a nod to Ms Halliday, the Security Guard waved them through one of the larger gates. Ms Halliday took his hand and led him towards the lifts. She was actually holding his hand! Maybe, this wasn’t going to be so bad.
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