The Life of Riley

 By Susan Riley

Former Area Manager

 Part One: How my life changed

My name is Susan Riley. At least, it used to be. Now they just call me Riley, or cunt, or bitch, or slut, or bimbo, or other equally charming insults. Once upon a time I was what they used to call a liberated woman. I earned good money as an area manager for a large company, in charge of a dozen stores. I was making around fifty thousand a year, drove a top of the range BMW, and owned a large five-bedroom house in an exclusive area. Then, one day, my world changed for ever.

It came almost out of the blue. You couldn't say that there was no warning, just that we didn't take the warning signs seriously. The foundation of the League for Male Supremacy ten years ago was widely regarded by everyone in politics, the media, and even society in general, as a complete joke. No one thought they would even get a single local councillor elected. Yet in ten short years they managed to become the government of the country. Their programme was simple and straightforward. At least you couldn't accuse the bastards of not saying what they really meant. They told us all that women were second-class citizens, indeed, should not even be considered as citizens at all. Their election promises included a promise to strip us of the vote and the right to stand for election, the right to serve on juries, the right to hold any position of responsibility over a man, the right to own property or money, even the right to sue men for breach of contract or other financial irregularities. They promised to take away the children of single mothers by force for adoption by married couples, to forbid women to attend universities or other institutions of higher learning, and to stay at school later than the age of fourteen. All these promises came true when, just two short years ago, to the amazement of almost everybody - certainly of most women - the League of Male Supremacy actually won the election with a majority of fifty-one. Once in power, other changes soon followed, even worse than those already promised. There was a group within the League called the Fembashers who wanted much tougher action against women. They were so extreme in their views that even some of the League's MPs considered them completely out of touch with reality. Yet, within thirteen months of taking power, the leader of the Fembashers had led a successful revolt within the party and taken over the leadership. He was now in charge of the country.

If it wasn't all so horribly real, what the Fembashers did to us would seem like either a sick joke or a surreal nightmare. Yet, believe me, it was real enough. Until Mark de Sade, the Fembashers leader, became leader of the country the position of women had been difficult but not intolerable. Under his rule, it became hell on earth for women.

To begin with, he rushed through new laws that took everything away from us overnight. At least the League had promised that existing arrangements about jobs and property would be honoured, just that no future ones that involved women would be allowed. He pushed through a ten-minute bill that stripped us of all our status and assets from the moment the bill passed. In ten short minutes I lost my house, my car, my credit cards, my bank account, and my job as Area Manager.

Some of the women tried to protest, and four thousand of them turned out in force to demonstrate against the new law. The police were publicly ordered by Sade to make an example of them. They steamed in, brandishing their nightsticks, without any provocation. The TV showed the horrific pictures of eight hundred police deliberately beating up unarmed women. Apparently acting on instructions from Sade himself, they concentrated on beating the women's heads, faces, tits, arses, bellies and cunts. Blood poured out everywhere and when they'd finished beating them up they arrested all the women for "behaviour likely to cause a breach of the peace!" What a fucking joke.

Another new law was promptly rushed in the very next day, allegedly as a response to the "unprovoked violence of extreme feminists." Under this new regulation, a woman accused of a crime was not allowed to have the services of a defence lawyer. Unlike men, they would also be presumed guilty unless proved innocent. They were not allowed to hear the "evidence" against them before the trial, nor were they allowed to cross-examine witnesses while they were on trial. They were also not even allowed to call any witnesses on their behalf. They were also forbidden to refuse to answer any question, however irrelevant, even on the grounds that it might incriminate them. The prosecution lawyers (all men by now, of course) were allowed to harass, interrupt and generally intimidate the female defendants pretty much as they liked. Even the mildest protest by a woman on trial would earn her an automatic five years in prison with hard labour on top of whatever sentence she was given for her alleged crimes. If she refused to enter a plea, the court was instructed to automatically enter a plea of guilty. As you can imagine, no woman has ever been acquitted since the new trial system was brought in.

The police were also instructed to treat all women being arrested as if they were resisting arrest unless it could be proved otherwise. This gave them carte blanche to use habitual and even extreme violence against women. The result was a surge in applications from men to join the police force. Before long, any woman on the streets looked on the police force as a threat to themselves rather than a protection for them.

Within a week, again on the pretext of "extremist feminist activity," a new law was passed that allowed the police to keep female suspects in custody without giving any reason for their actions for up to eight months before either charging or releasing them. Naturally, no woman was ever released under the new system. And, of course, since the police could hold females in custody for up to eight months, they did so. For the whole eight months. As you can imagine, they were not allowed any access to their own family and friends during this time, still less a lawyer.

As you can also imagine, with females held helpless and incommunicado for eight months by the police, abuse of the women in custody began to occur. At first the government simply denied that it took place, then they tried to avoid the issue, and then they began to make excuses. It was four months after the new custody laws had been introduced before the government openly announced that prisoner abuse had taken place. However, far from apologising for it, they decided to legalise it retrospectively, claiming that the women concerned were criminals anyway and that human rights laws did not apply to them. From that moment all it was a complete free for all in the police stations. Anything went with a female suspect.

The next step was to change the system of punishments in existence. Up to that time there was no death penalty, and physical punishment of any kind had long been outlawed, along with hard labour in prisons. Sade brought back capital and corporal punishment, as well as hard labour, but of course these punishments only applied to women.

A minimum sentence for any alleged offence by a female was laid down, of two years imprisonment with hard labour. The average sentence for a woman soon became five to ten years with hard labour. Hard labour meant exactly what it said, too. It wasn't just sewing mailbags, washing laundry or floors, or gardening. Women in prison were set to really hard physical labour. Females regularly collapsed of exhaustion or even died under the strain of breaking stones and rocks, lifting or pulling heavy loads, and other punishments of that nature.

Capital punishments were carried out in public. The following methods of execution were brought back into use: hanging (using the slow drop method, naturally); the electric chair; the gas chamber; the guillotine; the firing squad; beheading by axe; crucifixion; burial alive ; burning at the stake; stoning; and flaying alive. Corporal punishments were also carried out in public, ranging from caning, birching, whipping, and even mutilation. Public humiliation methods were also used, and the dunces' cap, the scold's bridle, the ducking stool, the barrel, the cangue, the stocks and the pillory all made an unwelcome reappearance. Unwelcome to the poor helpless unfortunate women who endured them, anyway.

New criminal offences were also laid down, outlawing lesbianism, adultery (only for women, naturally), feminism and "aggravated feminism," whatever that was. In a typical example of the hypocrisy that motivated the Fembashers, prostitution was legalised but it was forbidden for women to live off "immoral earnings." They could fuck and be fucked by men, and tout for custom in public without any penalty, as long as only their pimps benefited financially.

The marriage laws were the next things to be changed. It was now absolutely forbidden for a woman to choose or even have any say in whether or not she got married, still less who she married. Only the men had the right to decide her marital future. If she did get married, she had to swear to love, honour, and obey her husband in all things. She had to promise to be faithful to him sexually unless he directed her to fuck other men for his pleasure or financial gain. Naturally, she had no right to divorce or even separate from him under any circumstances. He, on the other hand, could divorce her whenever he felt like it, and had no need to give any reason for wanting a divorce. All he had to do under the new law was to turn to his wife and say the words " Fuck off, cunt, I'm divorcing you."

Custody of the children following a divorce was also naturally always given to the man. The law specifically prohibited women from ever having any custodial rights. As for the "financial settlement" following a divorce under the new laws, the wife, and only the wife, was solely responsible for the payment of alimony. She had to pay her husband money for the children that had been taken away from her. Under the new laws, she was even denied any right of access to her children. Only the husband decided when, where and even if she could see her own children. Even if she was paying fantastic amounts of alimony to him, she still had no right to see them, only a privilege at his discretion.

Ex-husbands often used this power to extort higher amounts of alimony from the luckless wife. Others simply took the money and still refused, out of sheer spite, to let the woman have any access to her own children.

The next law to be brought in was the so-called Morality Act. It began by laying down the principle that a husband could never be guilty of raping his wife whatever the circumstances. The law then argued that the same thing must also be true of partners, ex-partners, boyfriends, and ex-boyfriends. Any attempt by a woman to file a charge of rape against a man who came into any of those categories was now a criminal offence, known under the new laws as "sexual defamation of character." The penalty for such a "false" charge was laid down as a minimum sentence of ten years imprisonment with hard labour, together with a public flogging and a day in the pillory. It was also laid down in the "Morality Act" that a woman had no right to refuse her husband or any of the men covered by the rape exclusion clauses their "absolute and unqualified right to use her body for their sexual gratification, whenever, wherever, or however they wished to do so."

The second section of the Morality Act laid down strict rules as to how women should behave under the new order. In the first place, they were absolutely forbidden to wear trousers, jeans, or any other garment that covered up their legs. Only skirts or dresses could be worn, and neither garment was allowed to have a hemline lower than the knee. It was also forbidden for a woman's arms to be covered below the elbow, or for her to cover up her head or neck. Wearing tights or stockings was also highly regulated. Only prostitutes were allowed to wear fishnets, at least in public. In the same way, only they could now wear boots, which had to be thigh-high. Other women had to wear six-inch heels in public at all times. Any form of covering for the head was also forbidden to women.

This last provision brought out one last burst of resistance, from the Muslim girls who tried in vain to insist on wearing their garments that covered the head and even face completely. The police, enforcing the law, steamed into the women with extreme violence. The girls were stripped naked in the street, beaten viciously and sentenced to a day in the pillory and ten years imprisonment with hard labour. After that even Muslim resistance went underground. Since then the occasional terrorist attack has been mounted by Muslims but, with the penalty for such attacks always being death, only the most committed have dared to take on this repressive regime. The League has almost smashed opposition in the country.

A further section of the "Morality Act" laid down that women were forbidden under any circumstances to seek advice on or be allowed to use any form of contraception, except where it had been specifically requested on their behalf by their husbands or " other lawful lords." Only men could decide whether or not birth control was to be used; only they could decide, if it was used at all, what form it would take. Most men simply refused to use any at all, relying on oral and anal sex as their preferred methods of preventing unwanted pregnancies.

In the same way, women lost the right to decide on the question of abortion. Only the men could decide if or when she had one. She might want the baby, but her husband insisted on an abortion; or she might want an abortion, but her husband insisted that she go through the pregnancy. Only the decision of the man mattered. Women officially had no say whatsoever in the matter.

The government used the protests and subsequent terrorist acts by Muslim women as an excuse for further repression. They rushed out a new Civil Constitution, under which what remaining rights women still possessed were ruthlessly stripped away from them. They were forbidden to drive cars, to receive education at school later than the age of fourteen, to own a credit card, chequebook or cashcard. In addition, they were required to carry an identity card with them at all times, which had to include a full-size nude picture of themselves. Police officers were legally entitled to stop and search any woman at random and check her physical characteristics against those of her body as shown on the identity card. The legal status of women was also fully defined for the first time since the League came to power. In the first article of the new constitution, the following "principles" were laid down:

" A woman is not and cannot be a citizen of the community. Only human beings can be full citizens, and since women are not human, they cannot be citizens. In the same way, since only human beings can own property, women cannot own property. Indeed, they are the property, and property cannot own anything. Each female from the moment of her birth is legally the property of her father, or, failing him, a male family member, or, failing him, a ward of the state. Only on marriage, or on being sold into slavery to another man, can her state of ownership change. Even then, it is only a change of owner, not a change of status. For the duration of her life, a woman is and will remain the owned property of a man."

That really sealed our fate. Other sections of the constitution made it a criminal offence for any political party or any other organisation to seek to introduce changes in the law with regard to the status of females. The existing opposition parties - the Reform Party, the Socialist Alliance and Liberal Action - hastily dropped all their female candidates and banned women from membership. They took good care to change their propaganda so that, whatever else they might promise at the next election, it would most certainly not lead to any improvement in women's lives.

Other measures followed soon after. The new Criminal Justice Act legalised sexual harassment at work and in public places; licensed the date-rape drug Rohypnol and made its use legal, extending the already generous rape exemption clauses to those men who used it to drug girls and women in order to rape them; virtually legalised domestic violence by allowing the husband or other " lawful male guardian " almost complete freedom in how he chose to " chastise " or " discipline " his " errant wife " or " domestic slut ." This last term of abuse was now the official designation for an unmarried woman who lived with a man.

A new Labour Relations Act gave employers a free hand to " chastise " and " discipline " their "disobedient, disrespectful, ungrateful or unruly female employees." The prohibitions against displaying nude pictures or images of women in their place of work were also repealed, and naturally they sprang up everywhere. New contracts of employment were drawn up for women workers, which stated explicitly that no female could ever be placed in any position of authority or responsibility over any male employee. The highest position they could ever attain was that of a supervisory position over other women. A woman's pay was officially fixed at a maximum of one-quarter of a man's wage. The minimum working day for a woman was also fixed at twelve hours. No maximum was set. Overtime was of course compulsory, at the discretion of the employer. The rate of pay for overtime was also fixed at exactly half of the standard rate, on the grounds that after a twelve-hour shift, women could not possibly work as well during the overtime period as during the standard hours! Female employees were also now officially required to be " attentive to the needs and requirements of their superiors at work," which basically meant, at least in practice, that bosses, for the first time since the abolition of slavery, were legally entitled to sexually abuse, fuck, prostitute and even torture - sorry, " chastise " - their female employees at will. Lunch breaks and tea and coffee breaks were also forbidden to women workers. They had to continue working non-stop throughout their entire shift.

Women were allowed to join trade unions, but they were forbidden to vote in union elections or to hold any office of responsibility. They were also specifically exempted from any improvements in wages or terms and conditions obtained for the male members of the union by the shop stewards or other negotiators. The main reason for allowing women to join unions was because the male leadership of the unions saw an opportunity to enrich their own coffers at the expense of the women workers. It cost the employers nothing to allow them to join, and the exclusion of females from any working benefits that the unions might be able to negotiate with the employer meant that it was a purely anti-feminist measure, not an anti-employer's one.

On-the-spot fines were also laid down for the slightest transgression by women workers. A female employee turning up one minute late for work would be fined an hour's wages, being further punished by receiving six strokes of the cane on her bare arse and made to carry out her duties for the remainder of the day completely naked. As you can imagine, women left for work ridiculously early to avoid even the faintest possibility of turning up late and facing these dire "penalties."

I will tell you about my working life in the next instalment of my diary.

The Life of Riley

By Susan Riley

Former Area Manager

Part Two:	My first day at work (under the new laws):

	I have already told you how the new laws stripped us of all our rights,
in the home, on the street, and at work. Now I will describe how the new laws
affected my working life, and the lives of millions of other women like me. 	

	As I mentioned in the previous instalment of my diary, women could now
be "disciplined" and fined an hour's wages for arriving one minute late for
work. I shall begin the latest instalment of my story by telling you what
happened to me.

	I already knew that I was going to be demoted from my prestigious and
well-paid job. What I had not yet realised was the lengths to which both
employers and the government were prepared to go in order to make the lives of
women a complete and constant misery.

	When I arrived at work at my normal time of 9.00am, the receptionist,
who looked very subdued indeed, looked at me and beckoned me over.

	"The MD wants to see you," she said quietly. "There's going to be some
big changes around here now." "Yes, I know," I told her. "Let's hope they won't
be too bad."

	I started to walk over to the lift that would take me to the Managing
Director's office on the twenty-eighth floor. The receptionist held up her hand
and called me back.

	"No, you can't use that," she told me. "Under a new directive issued
late last night, only men are allowed to use the lifts. All women employees have
to take the stairs." "For fuck's sake," I protested, "it's on the twenty-eighth
floor of the building!" "It doesn't matter," she said quietly. "All women have
to walk now. The directive says it will keep them fit." "Yeah, right," I
muttered.

	Walking up twenty-eight flights of stairs is no joke. Still, I managed
it. Knocking on the door of the MD's office, I waited for him to call me in.

	"Susan Riley reporting, John," I told him.

	The look on his face was one of utter amazement. I realised at once I'd
said something that was no longer acceptable under the new laws. But I had no
idea what it was.

	"You," he said finally, when he'd recovered from his shock, "do not,
under any circumstances, call me John. From now on you must always address me as
sir. Do you think you can get that into your thick skull?"

	I blushed with embarrassment but nodded quickly. If that was all, well,
I could live with that.

	"I understand, sir. Sorry, sir." "Good," he said. "Now, there's going to
be a few changes round here, as I'm sure that even you must have realised. Let's
start off with the easy one. I'm dismissing you from your position of Area
Manager. What do you say to that?" "It's your decision, sir," I said quietly.
"Of course I accept whatever you decide."

	He stared at me in blank disbelief. For a moment I thought he was going
to have an attack of apoplexy.

	"I see that you haven't fully grasped the realities of your new position
yet," he said, looking at me like some kind of moron. "Didn't you read the new
handbook for employee conduct I sent out yesterday afternoon?" "No, sir," I
answered truthfully. "Sorry, sir, I was just too busy working." "Busy working my
arse!" he snorted. "You fems don't know the meaning of hard work. But you will
from now on, I promise you."

	I waited for him to calm down before I said anything else. Without a
word he picked up a copy of the new company manual and pushed it across the desk
to me. 	

	"Read the fucking thing," he said angrily. "And I'll start off by giving
you a crash course in the most basic aspects of it right now. For starters, like
I told you, you call me sir. At all times. And you call any male member of staff
sir as well. Or any male visitor to the company. Have you got that?" "Yes, sir,"
I answered quietly.

	"Now then," he continued, "what you should have said when I told you
that you were being dismissed was - oh, read section 4.4 in the fucking manual."

	I hastily opened the book and turned to the relevant section. My heart
sank when I read it, but I swallowed my pride and said the prescribed words.

	"Yes, sir," I replied. "Thank you for dismissing me from the position
which I, as a mere fem, was completely unsuited to hold. I completely understand
and approve of your fully justified decision to appoint me instead to a new
position better suited to my own incompetence."

	Now John Gale, the MD, smiled at last.

	"That's better," he continued. "Now then, let's get some basics sorted
out. You will be referred to as Riley. Not Susan, not Ms Riley, Miss Riley or
anything else. Just Riley." "Yes, sir." "You will report for duty in fifteen
minutes to the new induction course for fems. During that session, which will
last approximately one hour, the details of how the new work situation affects
you will be explained, so clearly that even stupid cunts like you can't get it
wrong. Then you will begin your new duties."

	He paused a moment before continuing. "Naturally you will be assigned a
trainer to help you through this new period of learning to behave and work
properly. We expect the training to take an average of one day at most.
Naturally you will not be paid for the period of training."

	I didn't know if I was supposed to respond to that or not, so I just
improvised. As luck would have it, I did the right thing.

	"Yes, sir. Thank you for not paying me for the period of retraining. It
is only fair that I should be paid only for the time I work."

	An astonished look came over his face, followed by a big grin.

	"Hm," he said, "that's good, Riley. I shall have to add that to the
employee handbook right away. Anyway, it's time. All fems must assemble in the
board-room for their retraining." "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

	He turned to me for a moment and looked me up and down. Maybe old habits
died hard, but it took around a minute before he came out with what had
obviously been on his mind.

	"You know, Riley, I've always found you an attractive woman," he said.
"I know from your personnel file that you're an only child and that your parents
are dead. Under the new laws, a fem in your position has two - well, three
choices that can be made about her future. One is to get married, another is to
be sold into slavery, and the third is to become a licensed whore. Now, under
the law, in the absence of an immediate male member of the family, I as your
employer get to decide what happens to you. It would be a waste to whore you
out, and I don't feel like getting married again just yet. Even if I did, I'd
probably take a younger model."

	He paused for a moment before continuing.

	"You're thirty-five years old, Riley, still able to bear children but
probably too old for me to honour you by making me your wife. The obvious
solution is to sell you into slavery. However, there are two ways of doing that.
One is to put you up for sale on a public auction block and sell you to the
highest bidder; the other is for us to come to a private arrangement. Would you
like to become my slave, Riley?"

	My head spun when he said that. The bloke was forty-eight years old,
fat, balding, with bad breath and about as appetising as a dead rat. On the
other hand, if I went up for public auction, God only knows what sort of pervert
might buy me. Maybe it was a case of better the devil you know. Taking a deep
breath, and composing my speech in my head as quickly as I could gather my
thoughts, I looked at him and smiled.

	"Yes, please, sir, I'd like that very much. It would be a great honour
if you were to make a fem like me your personal slave." "Good," he smiled back.
"That's settled, then. From now on you live in my house as my - "domestic slut"
-  is the new title. You will cook for me, clean for me, and of course your body
will be instantly available to me at any time I choose for my personal sexual
gratification. I will expect you to suck my cock, be fucked up the arse, and (if
you're a good girl) up the cunt too. Naturally I will chastise you for any
failure on your part to come up to the high standards I shall require from my
new domestic slut. Only I decide whether or not you have met them. You have no
right to disagree with me over that or indeed any other issue. Oh, and one other
thing, Riley." "Yes, sir?" "When you say please and thank you to me, don't say,
I'd like that very much. Always say, Yes, sir, thank you, sir, I'd fucking love
it if you did that to a stupid fucking cunt like me."

	"Yes, sir," I answered quietly. "Sorry, sir. Thank you very much for the
honour you have offered me and I'd fucking love it if you did that to a stupid
fucking cunt like me." "Good," he grinned. "That's settled, then. Time for the
induction session!"

	And that was how I became the official "domestic slut" slave to John
Higgins, the Managing Director of the company.

The Life of Riley

By Susan Riley
Former Area Manager


Part Three:	The Induction Training Session:



	I have already told you how I went overnight from a highly-paid
executive to a lowly "domestic slut." Now I will describe the laughably-named
"induction session," which is supposed to train us for our new subservient roles
in life and especially the workplace.

	John Higgins, the MD, began by sitting down at the head of a long table,
surrounded by other men, some his own age or older, many much younger. The women
waited expectantly to be given their new orders.

	I already knew that I was now a slave to Higgins for the rest of my
life. I knew that he had referred to me as his new "domestic slut," which I
presumed meant that I'd be living with him under the same roof as his wife. I
had no idea what the ground rules for that sort of relationship were, but I had
even less idea what was going to happen in the company. However, I was soon to
find out.

	The stupidest female member of staff, Melanie Cox, came into the room
when Higgins pressed the buzzer on his desk. Melanie was what men would have
called a "fat slag." She was also extremely stupid. At eighteen years old, she
was the office junior, and possibly the least respected member of the entire
workforce.

	"Morning, sir," she breezed in brightly, a huge gormless smile all over
her fat face. "How can this stupid fucking cunt try to serve you?" "What is your
name, girl?" "My name is Cox, sir." "And what do you do?" "I'm not fucking sure
yet, sir."

	Higgins nodded his approval while the rest of us groaned silently. Then
he ignored her and addressed his next remarks to the other women present.

	"You have just witnessed a demonstration of how to introduce yourself to
your boss or to any new male employee or customer of the company. And, although
it is true that Cox is a stupid fucking cunt, the reason she doesn't know her
new job yet is because I haven't told her yet. So, it's not all down to her
stupidity." "Thank you, sir," Melanie beamed. "That's the nicest thing anyone's
ever said to me." "Shut the fuck up, Cox," Higgins cut her off before she
disappeared entirely up his arse. "When I want to hear what you have to say,
I'll tell you. Now then, Cox here has been briefed on certain aspects of the new
regime here, and she will now demonstrate them for you. To begin with, the
greeting position when entering a man's office."

	Melanie proceeded to leave the room and then returned after knocking on
the door. Higgins responded with a gruff "Yes, cunt?" before she came in. She
entered the room on her hands and knees, approaching his desk and waiting for
the signal to rise.

	"Get up, cunt," he ordered. "Present yourself in the greeting position."
"Yes, sir. At once, sir."

	Then she got up from her knees, lifted her skirt up to her shoulders,
and presented him with a great view of her arse and cunt. Higgins got up from
his desk and proceeded to feel her up in front of us all. When he'd mercifully
finished he pushed her down on the floor again and dragged her over to his desk
by her hair. Putting her across his desk, he spanked her fat arse. Hard. Again
and again.

	"One," said Melanie. "Thank you, sir. Two. Thank you, sir."

	And so it went on till he had spanked her on the arse no less than
twenty-five times.

	Awed at the performance we had just witnessed, we waited in horrified
disbelief for the next atrocity. First of all, Melanie made a pretty speech,
like this:

	"Thank you for spanking my arse, sir. Please spank me harder next time.
I really deserve to have my fat arse spanked and I fucking love it anyway!"

	Then Higgins made her kiss the hands he had just used to spank her arse.
She kissed and licked them enthusiastically. I was getting a bad feeling about
what her new position in the company might be.

	He then unbuttoned the blouse she was wearing and fondled her huge
42-inch tits. She smiled throughout as we were forced to watch this disgusting
performance. Then he turned to the girl again.

	"OK, Cox, now it's time for you to demonstrate the new dress code for
all female workers. Get changed and show them." "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

	She'd always tended to wear skimpy outfits to work, but what she
presented us with now was hooker-style fashion. Shoes with a six-inch heel,
fishnets, a skirt that was so short it barely covered her cunt, and no knickers
underneath it. The wretched outfit was further set off by a see-through blouse
with no bra underneath either.

	"This,"  Higgins told us, "is the new regulation dress for all women
workers at this company. Any questions?" "No, sir," we all answered in unison,
though our hearts sank at the thought of coming to work and working in that
outfit.

	"Now, then, it's time to give you cunts your new jobs. Read the employee
manual for a description of your duties. Go and report to the Office Manager.
He'll tell you cunts what to do. All of you fuck off now except Riley and Cox."
"Thank you, sir," the women said in unison, as they made their way out of the
office to start their new future.

	When they'd gone Higgins turned to Melanie and me and smiled. He was
obviously very pleased with his morning's work so far. We stood there waiting
for him to speak next.

	"Well done, Cox, that was an excellent demonstration." "Thank you, sir.
I'm glad I was able to be of some use to you for once." "I know that the manual
only came out late last night, but I will go over it in a bit more detail with
you two. Basically I'll train you up on the job as well. First things first,
though. We are splitting up the existing Human Resources Department into two.
One will deal with our male staff and will continue to be known as Human
Resources. The other will deal with our cunts and will be known as Female
Resources. Obviously, as women aren't human, they can't be in HR, so we've had
to create a new department to deal with them. Riley, I'm putting you in charge
of that."

	"Thank you, sir," I answered, genuinely surprised. "I shall try to carry
out my duties without making too many mistakes through my natural feminine
stupidity."

	Christ, I was getting almost as good at arse-licking as Melanie. I
wondered what plum she was going to land.

	"As for you, Cox, you will be my new PA. However, you will also double
up as Deputy Office Manager, which means that you will be in charge of all the
fems who work for us and have absolute authority over them all except where the
manual states otherwise or a male member of staff has given other orders. You
were on a salary of thirteen thousand a year before today. I have decided to
raise it to seventeen thousand." "Thank you, sir. That's very generous of you,
sir." "As for you, Riley, you were on eighty thousand a year, which was far too
much for a stupid fucking cunt like you, wasn't it?" "Absolutely, sir," I
hastily agreed. "However," he grinned, "since as my domestic slut, all the money
you get paid comes to me anyway, I'll pay you twenty-two thousand."

	I was genuinely amazed at that. Even though I knew that all the money
would go into the old pervert's own pocket, I was still surprised. Still, it
wasn't his money, was it? At least it looked as if I was going to be the highest
paid woman in the company. Even if I wouldn't ever see a penny of it. I suppose
the idea that I was the best paid was somehow appealing. God knew, I was going
to find it hard to draw much in the way of comfort from my new life as a
domestic slut. And I still had to find out what that involved. I was sure of one
thing, though. It wasn't going to be nearly as much fun for me as it was for
him. Oh well.