The promotion

Michelle, working as a waitress, was suddenly given some good news. She is told she can now work the VIP area as she’s done so well, with a substantial pay increase. Only condition is she has to wear the new uniform, which she’s never seen, and it comes with a collar...

“You don’t have to accept straight away”, the manager, Jake, told her. “Have a think about it over the weekend and let me know on Monday.”

“Thanks, Jake”, she said. “I really don’t know. It’s a lot of money, but it seems so restrictive, somehow. Ellen took the VIP job a while back; I haven’t seen her since.”

“Ellen moved to another department”, said Jake. “The VIP section is managed by another firm, and they sometimes move staff around. That’s probably why you haven’t seen her.”

“Oh, I see”, said Michelle. “You mean that they might transfer me?”

“No, the vacancy is in this branch”, said Jake. “Upstairs, in fact. The fourth floor.”

Michelle smiled, finished her shift, then went home. Damn, the money would be really useful! Only thing was, she was still apprehensive about the uniform. She’d never seen one of the VIP girls wearing it (or not, come to think of it).

Now that she thought of it further, she’d never seen anyone coming or going to the VIP area, period. Weird…

There was one other requirement for working in the VIP section that Michelle met, although she didn’t know it yet. She had no immediate family, no-one that would worry if she wasn’t around for a while. The firm was already aware of this as they had asked Michelle to go on a fortnight long training course when she first joined, at their headquarters, and she had been quite happy to do so, saying she had ‘no strings attached’. She had also left the ‘next of kin’ boxes blank on her application form.

Saturday’s post and email included a message from her landlord that he was having to put the flat up for sale due to rising costs. She would have to find somewhere else to live, and quickly…

Michelle told Jake about her housing problem when she went in on Monday.

“Everywhere else is going to be more expensive”, she said. “I was getting a low rent because I was a long-term tenant. Now what am I going to do…?”

“You didn’t read the job application for the VIP position properly, did you?”, Jake said. “It includes accommodation as part of the package.”

“Shit, no?”, said Michelle, whipping out her paperwork from her bag. She read it intently.

“A single bedroom is provided as part of your employment, and you are expected to sleep over and be available at a moment’s notice.”

“So, I would probably only have been in the flat on my time off”, she said. “Sod it, I’ll go for it, it seems to have come at just the right time.”

“Ok, I’ll let them know you’re on your way up. Here’s a staff card for the lift.”

Nervous, but hopeful, Michelle went to the lift and scanned her card. The doors opened and she got in, pressing the button for the fourth floor. As the lift started going up, she felt sleepy, and was unconscious before she reached the floor…

Two uniformed women were waiting for her as the lift doors opened. Two VIP uniformed women…

The women put Michelle into a wheelchair and pushed her down the corridor, into a room labelled Staff Prep. Michelle was then stripped and laid, naked, on a bed. First, she was handwashed all over. Don’t want the VIPs catching anything. Her hair was all removed at the same time, all over, eyebrows and head included.

A mask was then fitted; it gave her the same smiling, vacant expression as all the other girls had. It also stopped her speaking and held her mouth open in an ‘O’ shape. Her hands and forearms were then fitted with special long gloves that held her hands in a flat position, fingers and thumb together, like a doll. She was also fitted with a special skintight chastity belt that merged seamlessly with her skin. Only a special VIP card could be used to make her ‘available’, and these were very rare and very expensive. She was also fitted with a pair of transparent latex tights.

She was then dressed on top with a latex French maids uniform. However, this was not a normal one; she could be punished by the corset tightening by remote control, as well as electrodes connected to her nipples. Then came the six-inch heels, which were locked on.

Lastly came the metal collar that she had heard about; a thick one, very heavy, with inbuilt shock devices, GPS and a special device that connected directly to her spine. If she made any attempt to escape, without VIP authorisation, the collar would switch off her legs…

A four-digit number was stamped to the outside of her collar. This was her control code. Any VIP could request her at any time by punching the code into his or her app.

Once this was all done, Michelle was placed back in the wheelchair and taken to her bedroom (cell).

That was where she woke up.

She frantically tried to get her hands to move, then pawed at her face, trying to remove the mask. At the same time, her collar shocked her, and a voice said, “Slave 4144, report to room 324.”

She didn’t move.

“That’s you, stupid”, said the voice, shocking her again.

Whimpering, Michelle went into the corridor, looking for room 324.

Her chastity belt unlocked as she walked into it.

The man inside started undoing the zip of his trousers…