WIFE OF MANY ROLES
by Colleen Whyte
George Firth was well pleased with himself, and with his darling wife Amanda. 
They were just home from the dinner party given by his boss and he knew they had 
made a good impression. Unlike Harry's wife Margaret who had been downing the 
gin and tonics like they were lemonade, Amanda had been the model of decorum, 
accepting a single glass of wine to be polite and letting it last the entire 
evening.
Following his wife up the stairs towards the bedroom he could only marvel at how 
elegant and poised she was. She looked absolutely stunning in her evening dress, 
the lavender silk flowing over her curves, her hair and make up subtle and 
immaculate. It just said class, unlike Bill's wife Linda. She had squeezed 
herself into a tight low-cut dress and her ample breasts had threatened to come 
spilling out all night. Good to perv at, and even now the image stiffened 
George's cock, but not the sort of thing that reflected well on the husband's 
tastes.
And Cheryl's husband Norman! He had managed to get drunk, make a pass at a 
receptionist half his age and then gone on to regale all and sundry with 
embarrassing tales of his wife's bad habits. He had totally humiliated her. But 
not Amanda, she had been polite, witty and charming; conversing easily with the 
boss, the senior manager, even the senior accountant. When it came time for the 
bonuses, George knew his envelope was going to be hefty, perhaps even that trip 
to Tahiti.
Mind you, he was going to need the bonus. He had spent a lot on improving both 
his wife's wardrobe, and his wife. Still it was value for money he thought as he 
reached for the remote control device that he kept in the drawer beside the bed. 
Pointing it at his wife he pushed the single button and heard the now familiar 
hum. The effect on his wife was immediate, she lapsed into her trance state and 
proceeded to undress on the spot. The dress, her lingerie, her shoes and even 
her jewellery became a pile on the floor. Then like an automaton she marched in 
to the ensuite to remove her makeup and shower.
George smiled and casually gathered up the clothing she had dumped on the floor, 
tossing it in to the dirty laundry hamper to get it out of sight. It was 
important that nothing distracted his wife when she came back, it could confuse 
her. Going over to the custom made closet he unlocked the large double doors and 
opened them to reveal a sizeable cubicle containing several more stylish evening 
gowns complete with lingerie and accessories. Giving the left side a gentle 
push, George cycled the immense cylinder to the next cubicle.
A selection of nurses uniforms came into view, but not what he felt like just 
now. With images of Bill's wife Linda and her tits, he quickly moved the 
wardrobe on past the lacy lingerie and the newly-wed bridal gowns to get to the 
desired cubicle. That done he undid his tie, threw off his jacket and shoes and 
waited.
Amanda re-entered the bedroom, naked with her long hair falling freely down her 
back. Her face was impassive, almost expressionless as she moved mechanically 
towards the closet, as though she had no identity of her own. There before her 
was a plethora of gaudy clothes, boob tubes, halter tops, hot pants, 
mini-skirts, all cheap and trashy - the slut collection as George liked to call 
it. Amanda stepped in to the cubicle and closed the door behind her.
Long minutes passed, and then the door opened again and George's wife emerged 
not as Amanda the sophisticate but as Candy the slut. And slut she was in her 
pink button front bustier that pushed her breasts up like fleshy melons, her 
ultra-short frilled miniskirt, her fishnet stockings and purple glitter 
stilettos that made her bum wiggle as she walked. Her hair hung loose and untidy 
and her makeup was heavy and coarse with matching hot pink nails and lipstick.
"Gawd I'm horny!" she exclaimed licking her lips and tossing back her hair, 
"You'd better be up for a good fuck session, babe, or I'm out of here to find 
some action."
George smiled, and unzipped his trousers to free his erection.
"Oh Gawd! Oh Gawd! It's fuckin' huge!" Candy gasped, and she tottered forward as 
fast as her heels would allow her, practically falling over beside the bed to 
get her mouth down to his cock. Without hesitation she engulfed his cock into 
her hot, warm mouth, smearing her fresh pink lipstick up and down the shaft.



The morning sun woke George and gave him a chance to lie back in his dishevelled 
bed and reflect upon how good his life was. Beside him Amanda was sound asleep, 
her heavy makeup smeared across her face, the sheets and he noted with some 
satisfaction, many parts of his body as well. The rest of the room was similarly 
askew with clothes scattered across the furniture from last night's activities. 
Someone had a lot of tidying up to do, perhaps Amelia the 50's housewife, she 
really got off on tidying and cleaning.
But Amelia tended to be a bit prudish, and his cock was already hard from just 
thinking about last night's activities. He really felt like someone a bit more 
risque to start the day, so it would have to be the naughty hotel chambermaid. 
Peeling back the sheets he marvelled at how good his wife's body was. That was 
thanks to Amanda the aerobics star, so cute in her tight lycra and sweatbands. 
So cute in fact that he often let her cajole him into working out with her, and 
feeling his firm stomach he had to admit that he was in better shape too.
A stirring from his wife prompted him from thoughts to actions and he got up and 
cycled the closet around to the chambermaid's cubicle. Then returning to bed he 
gently shook her to fully rouse her. As she awoke and looked around in 
bewilderment he pushed the button on the remote and held his breath as it hummed 
loudly. Even after all this time he still worried that it would stop working 
some time. He also wished that it wasn't so loud, the hum didn't serve any 
purpose to his mind but he didn't dare tamper with the device.
Amanda responded as she always did, walking in a trance like state in to the 
ensuite to wash away the remnants of her previous role so that she could be a 
blank slate for the next. As he listened to the shower running George had more 
time to wonder about the remote and the modifications to his wife. The 
mysterious man who had contacted him all that time ago had told him very little, 
not surprising considering what he was offering. The man had said that he could 
improve Amanda, make her more interesting, more amenable. It had been a good 
time to make such an approach as George and Amanda's marriage was looming 
dangerously close to separation if not divorce. They had been arguing almost 
constantly, George spending more and more time at work trying to get ahead, and 
resenting Amanda spending his money. Amanda getting upset that he didn't take 
her out anymore, that he begrudged her every purchase.
And then the phonecall from out of the blue, and the mysterious man who offered 
so much - for a price. George was still surprised that he had been so willing to 
listen, let alone go along with it. Even now it all seemed so fantastic that had 
he been in a saner mood he would have told the guy where to go. Instead he had 
paid the agreed amount and mere hours later he had a devoted, sensual wife who 
couldn't do enough for him. From marriage break-up to bliss as quick and easy as 
that.
Amanda had finished in the bathroom and entered the cubicle during George's 
musings. Now she broke his train of thought as she emerged dressed in a powder 
blue tunic that clung to her curves. Her hair pulled back in a functional 
ponytail but there was nothing functional about her shoes, spike-heeled pumps 
that accentuated her lovely stocking clad legs. Carrying an armload of folded 
linen she grinned saucily at him, "Good morning, I see someone had an ... 
interesting ... night." She said it with complete candour, toeing the pink 
bustier on the floor as though it belonged to someone else. "Why don't you 
freshen yourself while I tidy up. Of course I'll be expecting a tip." She 
emphasised the word 'tip' with a swish of her tongue over her ruby red lips.
George returned from his shower to find the bedroom back in its pristine state 
and his wife bent over the laundry basket scooping the contents into a linen 
sack. The short hem of her tunic had ridden up, presenting a clear view of her 
stocking tops and George couldn't hold himself back. Moving in behind her, he 
leant over to fondle her breasts through the starched material, his unhindered 
erection pressing up against her bum. In response Amanda giggled and feigned 
surprise.
"Oh sir, fraternising with the hotel staff is against the rules!" So saying, she 
straightened so that she could press her whole body against his, wiggling her 
hips to stimulate George's cock even more. He kissed the nape of her neck as he 
continued to squeeze her breasts. "But I think," she murmured as she reached 
back to guide his cock into her moist hole, "I can make an exception in your 
case."
Totally aroused now, George fucked her from behind, bent over the laundry 
basket, and then again on the bed with her on top, eagerly humping away on the 
remaining hardness left in his prick. It didn't stop there, although incapable 
of getting hard again, George continued to tease and torment his horny 
chambermaid with tongue and fingers until both were exhausted and napped until 
lunch time.
Awaking for the second time that day, George found that Amanda had finished 
tidying the bedroom and had taken away the dirty laundry, presumably to wash it. 
Making sure he had the remote he dressed and headed down to the kitchen for 
lunch. Hearing the washing machine he prepared a substantial meal for the both 
of them, figuring that she had to be as hungry as he was.
"Care to have lunch with me?" he offered as Amanda entered the kitchen, her 
appearance restored to its previous pristine condition, heels clicking on the 
hard floor.
"Oh I daren't, the manager ..."
"I won't tell if you don't," George said with a conspiratorial wink.
George enjoyed watching her eat, she remained completely in her role as guilty 
chambermaid - constantly on edge as though she feared being caught by the 
imaginary manager at any moment. Still she was going to need a new persona soon, 
while making lunch he had noted they needed to do some grocery shopping. So he 
considered whether to send Amanda as the happy housewife, or to do it himself 
and let her change into something more exciting. He opted for the later, and 
after the lunch things were tidied away he zapped her again with the remote and 
hurried up to the bedroom to select the 'graceful companion' cubicle so that 
they could go to the movies that evening.
And tomorrow? Well that was Sunday so something with a religious theme he 
thought, perhaps the Sunday school teacher.



George finished off his light continental breakfast, entirely appropriate as it 
had been served by his own french-maid Amy. Pushing himself away from the table 
he gently dabbed the crumbs from his lips with the serviette and tightened his 
tie before heading towards the front door and another day at work. As 
anticipated, Amy was waiting for him in the hallway, a vision in her black satin 
uniform with its lacy white apron and cap and perched on her glossy black high 
heeled pumps.
Holding out his briefcase for him, Amy leant forward and offered her cheek for a 
kiss. George accepted both the briefcase and the opportunity, and then decided 
why the hell not and pulled up the back of her short skirt to squeeze her bum.
"Oh sir!" his wife squealed, "You are so naughty! What if her ladyship were to 
find out?"
George smiled. "I expect the manor to be spotless by the time I get home, Amy. 
And I won't be any later than four thirty so you had better get a move on." His 
maid-wife bobbed a quick curtsy to acknowledge his instructions and George set 
out for work a very happy man.
Amy waved goodbye, blowing him a kiss before shutting the door. She waited a 
moment longer until she heard his car back out of the drive and then sighed and 
relaxed. Slipping off the high heels that were pinching her toes she wandered 
casually through to the kitchen and put on the kettle to make a cup of tea. A 
light rap on the back door and a call of 'it's only me' announced the arrival of 
her friend and neighbour, Helen.
Tall, slim and in stark contrast dressed casually in slacks and an old sweater, 
Helen wrinkled her nose in distaste when she saw her friend dressed in the sexy 
maid's outfit. "Oh 'manda, don't tell me you're still playing at this. Don't you 
find it totally demeaning? I mean pandering to his silly male fantasies, 
pretending to be his slave."
Amanda regarded Helen with a relaxed smile. "Have you ever considered that he's 
my slave? That I'm controlling him through his weaknesses?"
"Get real, girl!" Helen retorted, "He's got you jumping through hoops just to 
cover his own inadequacies. I don't see you making him dress up like a tart. 
What makes you think you're running the show?"
"When's the last time you made love with your husband?"
"Saturday, after the football." Helen shot back far too quickly.
"No, I don't mean the last time Hank stuck his cock in you. When was the last 
time you made love?" Amanda let her friend stew on that for a while as she made 
the tea. "George took me to the theatre last week, he thought he was showing me 
off in a slinky evening gown."
"Yeah, well. Hank isn't really in to the theatre ..."
"George wasn't either." Amanda replied with a canary eating smile, she could 
tell by the way Helen was avoiding eye contact that she was making her point. 
"George doesn't have mysterious conferences, he isn't screwing his secretary and 
he doesn't spend all day on the sofa watching television."
Helen was flushed now, and more than a little angry but not at Amanda. No, she 
was angry with herself, and with her own husband, and her drab, repetitive life. 
She grunted a thanks as Amanda handed her a cup of tea and sipped on it in a 
stony silence as Amanda moved gracefully around the kitchen tidying away the 
breakfast dishes.
After a while Helen asked a question in a quiet voice, "George took you clubbing 
a few nights ago, didn't he?"
Amanda didn't pause in loading up the dishwasher but a smile lit up her face. 
"Yes. We danced into the small hours. He had me dress up like a teenage girl out 
with her sugar daddy. You should have seen the stares with me in that spandex 
minidress and pigtails."
"He seems to have a lot of outfits for you," Helen remarked as casually as she 
could manage, but her curiosity was now clearly piqued.
"More than you could possibly believe," Amanda laughed, thinking of the huge 
revolving closet that occupied what had been the spare bedroom. "And he has such 
an amazing imagination! Not just the tarty stuff you see hookers in and flimsy 
lingerie, we've got all sorts of costumes and such. Most of its really stylish 
clothing, he has surprisingly good taste for a man."
There were several long minutes of silence and Amanda filled in the time wiping 
down the bench and starting preparations for dinner. Helen brooded quietly over 
her cup of tea, too distracted by her own thoughts to notice the strange 
aftertaste. Watching her friend move around in her sleek uniform she could only 
think how fit and attractive Amanda looked.
"'Manda?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think, I mean could I try it, the dress up and things ... just for a 
little while ..."
"We'd have to co-ordinate it with Hank somehow, arrange for him to be 
conditioned so that he thinks its his doing."
"I wasn't thinking of Hank," Helen said in a very quiet voice, "I was, well Hank 
is a slob, nothing's going to change that. But with George, well I mean he's got 
to have a fantasy about two women ... if you don't mind that is ...?"
"Of course not, we've been friends forever," Amanda stopped in her chores for 
the first time since Helen had arrived, and gave her friend a hug. "If you're 
sure, though? Its a big decision, even if it is just for a couple of days."
"I'm sure. I ... it would be like a holiday, a dirty weekend. I haven't had 
either since I married Hank. I'll tell him I'm going to spend some time with my 
sister, that will guarantee he doesn't try to get in touch with me."
"Well, if you're sure?" Amanda prompted her friend one last time, then 
continued, "Use the phone in the study to ring Hank. I'll use the other line to 
make the arrangements, they can probably fit you in today as its a mobile 
operation."
"Arrange what?" Helen asked with a certain amount of trepidation.
"Oh its nothing to worry about. We just have to make it look right otherwise 
George will get suspicious. They make a slight mark on your neck to look like 
you've had the 'control chip' inserted and they'll make up another remote for 
George to 'use' on you. Its all painless and a bit of a lark. Its really just an 
excuse for a makeover."
Amanda's confidence seemed to carry to Helen and she hurried away to ring her 
own house, confident that her husband would be sprawled out in front of the 
television. It didn't take much to convince Hank that she was going away for one 
of her all too frequent trips to her sister's place and his lack of interest 
just heightened her desire to go through with the experiment.
An hour later and a white van arrived and parked itself in the garage at 
Amanda's direction. Helen was less confident now that it was going ahead but she 
wasn't willing to back down and go home at this stage. She calmed down 
considerably when she saw the back of the van was set out like a compact 
beauticians complete with a reclining chair. At Amanda's bidding she stripped 
down to her beige briefs and slip and made herself comfortable on the chair.
A pretty young blond assistant went straight to work on cleansing her skin, and 
it wasn't until Helen felt a sharp prick in the back of her neck that she 
realised something was wrong. By then it was far too late and she felt her will 
slipping away, submerged within a desire to submit, to mould her personality to 
the clothes she was wearing, to obey both her master and mistress ...



George arrived home to be greeted at the front door by his amorous maid. He let 
her take his briefcase which she quickly put to one side so that she could press 
her body up against his while loosening his tie. George put his arms around her 
slender waist and pulled her even closer, delighting in the silky feel of her 
uniform and the pressure of her petticoats against his crotch.
"Master?" maid-Amy put in between kisses, "I have something I have to tell you, 
a favour to ask."
Curious, George eased back just enough that she could talk more easily. "Well?"
"It is my sister Helena, she has come to visit." And from around the corner 
Helen emerged, dressed in her own sexy maid's uniform, pink to contrast with 
Amy's black. Walking forward in the delicate little steps dictated by her 
stiletto's, Helen kept her head respectfully lowered and presented another 
remote control to George. Stunned, he took it and Amy immediately gave him a 
passionate kiss.
"Oh master! Thank you so much for letting Helena be your slave too!"
Helena was just as enthusiastic, joining in the embrace in the doorway and 
lifting her head to make it a three way kiss competing for George's mouth. She 
felt so happy that she was accepted by both her new owners and couldn't wait to 
see what they would have her wear and what they would do with her.