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Tracey the Donkey

Stories about "Tracey", written by various other authors (except Katie)
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Joex
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Tracey the Donkey

Post by Joex »

Tracey looked round the members of the committee and twiddled with the end of her pencil. Was it boring or was it boring! Why had she ever agreed to join? But of course she knew why she had agreed. As an associate sollicitor in the firm of Chambers and Son she needed to suck up to the boss.

She was young, she was ambitious and she was not beyond getting her nose brown in the aid of a good cause. The good cause in this case being a partnership. Mr Chambers kept danglimg the carrot of the partnership in front of Tracey's eyes, perhaps if she would just do this or just do that. Tracey was in need of thr partnership. The mortgage on her riverside appartment had shot up, her overdraft was at its limit and her cards were maxed out.

She had used her not inconsiderable charms to push the other associates out the way. Her not inconsiderable charms consisting mainly of her not inconsiderable bosom which she stuck under Mr Chambers' nose at every availlable opportunity.

Now the partnership was within her grasp, Mr Chambers had virtually promised it to her.

"Mrs Chambers needs a volunteer to be secretary of the committee," he had said.

Tracey knew what Mr Chambers was talking about. Mrs Chambers regarded herself as a leading light in local charity work for the WI, and as such she chaired the committee for her favourite charity - the Donkey Sanctuary.

"Oh," said Tracey, wanting to have as little to do with Mrs Chambers and her wretched donkeys as possible.

"It would make Mrs Chambers very unhappy if she does not have a volunteer. And when Mrs Chambers is unhappy, Tracey, I am unhappy. She sees to that."

"Oh," said Tracey, seeing where this was leading.

"But if someone were to make Mrs Chambers happy by, for example, volunteering to be secretary of her committee, I would esteen that person very highly. And you know, Tracey, there is a partnership in this company for someone I esteem very highly."

So there it was - virtually a promise of a partnership if she volunteered. So Tracey sat bored in the committee room making desultory notes for the meeting.

"Finally," announced Mrs Chambers, glowering round at the committee as if daring them to contradict her, "there is the question of the fund raising event for the WI fete."

Nobody made any suggestions. They knew it was pointless. Mrs Chambers would have decided on the fund raising event already. They waited for the news of whatever dreadful idea Mrs Chambers had this time.

"I am much indebted," she pronounced, "to my son Rupert for this suggestion."

Tracey felt rather than heard the inaudible groans at this announcement. Whatever Rupert, the Chambers' spottty faced nerd of a son, had suggested was bound to be particularly awful. For some bizarre reason Mrs Chambers doted on Rupert and he could do no wrong in her eyes.

"Rupert has suggested that a volunteer be auctioned at the fete as 'Donkey for a day'. Whoever bids the highest gets the volunteer to do their 'donkey work'," she smiled condescendingly at this little jolke, "for a whole day. Do we have a volunteer."

People looked at the floor, the ceiling, intently at their watches - anything to avoid catching her eye. Mrs Chambers looked round exasperated, "Very well," she said, "I will volunteer myself."

The committe filed out. That wasn't going to make much money. People would pay Mrs Chambers to stay away!

The day before the fete arrived and Mr Chambers called Tracey into his office.

"You know Mrs Chambers has put herself forwards to be auctioned as... ahem... Donkey for a Day tomorrow," Mr Chambers was clearly embarrassed by the concept.

"Yes," Tracey wondered what was coming, sure it wasn't going to be good news.

"Well, Tracey, Mrs Chambers would be very unhappy if someone didn't bid something in the order of, let us say, two hundred pounds."

"Oh,' said Tracey, dreading what was coming.

"You know Tracey I would have great esteem for anyone who would bid two hundred pounds for Mrs Chambers to be their... ahem... Donkey for a Day. I would think such a person had the makings of a partner in this firm."

Tracey knew exactly what he meant. Bid two hundred pounds for the dreadful Mrs Chambers and the partnership was hers.

"Yes Mr Chambers," she said.

Tracey had to think things over carefully. Mr Chambers had virtually promised her the partnership. All she had to do was pay £200 for the horrible Mrs Chambers to come and work for her for a day. A bit of a pain, but worth it. At least it would have been worth it if Tracey had had £200. Tracey however was up- to the limit on her overdraft and maxed out on all her cards. The partnership was almost in her grasp and all she needed was a measly £200. She fiddled with the cheque in her hands. The cheque that old Mrs Tompkinson had entrusted to her. Two hundred pounds. She could ‘borrow’ it from Mrs Tompkinson. Mrs Tompkinson would never know. Tracey could pay it back the following week when she got paid. It was all so simple. Tracey borrowed the money and of course nobody else bid for Mrs Chambers.
Tracey was delighted. The partnership must be hers!

What on earth was she supposed to do with her ‘Donkey for a Day’. She couldn’t imagine Mrs Chambers wanting to do any of your actual donkey work. However she turned up on Saturday morning – not exactly dressed for donkey work in a blue twin set and pearls and wearing a large flowery hat.

‘Oh well’ thought Tracey, ‘I’ll send her shopping’.

“I’m going out for an hour,” she said, “can you get this shopping in for me?”

“Of course dear,” boomed Mrs C, “I am yours to command!”

Tracey wasn't quite sure about commanding Mrs C, but left her a shopping list and ten pounds for the shopping, before going out to get ber hair done. Aspiring partners had to look good! She returned to find Mrs Chambers sitting on the sofa reading Hello! magazine. She didn't seem to be doing much donkey work.

"Where's the shopping?" asked Tracey.

"It'll be here soon."

"Be here?"

"Yes. Your list was not very healthy dear so I rang Harrods and ordered some good food to be sent round on my account. It's not cheap, but you have to pay for quality don't you?"

"Oh... Thank you," said Tracey, struck by the generosity.

"Don't mention it dear, you can pay me back the money next week."

"Oh!" Tracey was about to demand what Mrs Chambers was doing spending all her money, but thought better of it. If Mrs Chambers wasn't happy then Mr Chambers wouldn't be happy and it was bye bye partnership.

She bit her tongue.

"Well I need to go out again, perhaps you could get a little cleaning done while I'm out, and maybe get us a little lunch."

"Your wish is my command."

It was with a little trepidation that Tracey returned from her facial and manicure, but the house looked spotless even though Mrs Chambers was back with Hello!

"Well I must say the house is looking good."

"Of course dear. You can rely on me. I know all the best cleaning services and you can't beat Harrods. I had them round straight away. That's the advantage of having me do these things. They would never do it for you. No - no need to thank me, that's what you paid for me to do."

Tracey was aghast. How much did all this cost.

"And lunch?" She asked nervously.

"Harrods are delivering a hamper. If you could reimburse me by Sunday I'd be ever so grateful. Here's the itemised cost."

Tracey took the bill to her room and wept. It was nearly four hundred pounds. It would swallow up all her spare cash from her salary. How would she ever pay back old Mrs Tompkinson!

It was a chastened Tracey that stood in Mr Chambers office on Monday.

"Mrs Chambers was delighted with the success of her money raising venture," said Mr Chambers, "so much so that she would like somebody else to volunteer to be auctioned as Donkey for a Day and she'll pay two hundred pounds to the sanctuary."

"Somebody else," quavered Tracey.

"Yes, I'd go so far as to say that such a volunteer would make Mrs Chambers very happy, which in turn would make me very happy."

Tracey could only stare in front of her.

"Would you esteem such a person highly?"

"Oh yes," said Mr Chambers.

"Would such a person be worthy of a partnership?"

"Oh yes."

"And would such a person would earn a five hundred pound bonus - cash in hand," said Tracey. She was sick of the endless promises and felt a more material reward appropriate; she could pay off the ridiculous bill and still have money left over for old Mrs Tompkinson.

Mr Chambers did not seem too happy at this suggestion. Dangling carrots of partnerships was not in the same league as five hundred pound bonuses. But then he smiled with a mean glint in his eye.

"Four hundred then," he said

"Look no further," said Tracey breathing a sigh of relief and doing a twirl. She'd got out of jail!

"I knew you were the girl for the job," said Mr Chambers, "you'll have the money when you've completed the assigment - or should I say 'if'. A whole day or no money mind!"

"If! If!" Travey could handle Mrs Chambers any day.

She turned up at the Chambers' on Saturday. They were loading up the car.

"Are we going somewhere?" asked Tracey.

"Not 'We' - 'Us'," said Mrs Chambers.

"What?" whatever did she mean.

"That is Gerald and I are going - we're having a lovely picnic. You are staying."

"But you paid for me to be your donkey for a day."

"I paid yes, but not for me dear. It was a birthday present for Rupert. He asked for you especially. Wasn't that wonderful. He must think the world of those donkeys."

Tracey could only stare open mourhed. She was to be the horrible Rupert's donkey for a day. And she just had to do it. All her pay had gone to settle the Harrods bill. If she didn't have the money by the following day for Mrs Tompkinson she was in deep trouble.

The horrible Rupert appeared, his spotty face grinning expectantly.

'Hello Rupert," said Mrs Chambers, "this is Tracey. She is going to be your donkey for a day. And mind we paid good money for her so make sure you get your money's worth."

"Oh yes," piped in Mr Chambers, "she is to do everything exactly as you say. Aren't you Tracey? I am not likely to look favourably on people who take the money and don't deliver."

Tracey could only look vacuously as the car pulled away. She was now Rupert's donkey for the day.

Rupert looked at her through his round spectacles, his spotty face grinning evilly.

"I've got a present for you," he said.

Tracey followed him in to find him holding out a strange parcel of clothes.

"What's this?" she looked at him suspiciousky.

"It's your uniform. And you're to call me Master Rupert."

"I'm not wearing a uniform."

"Master Rupert!"

"I'm not wearing any uniform Master Rupert."

"Oh yes you are. Father said you had to. He said you had to do everything I said or you wouldn't get the money," Rupert stamped his foot petulantly.

Tracey looked at him. Had Mr Chambers said that. He'd said something like that before he left. In any case she just didn't dare refuse. She had to have the money. She took the uniform and looked at it. It was a little 'French Maid' uniform: black with a very short skirt, a very low cut top and a little white apron. Very brief black silk panties and bra were also provided.

"You can change in the bathroom," said Rupert.

Tracey snatched the little uniform and flounced off to the bathroom. She didn't dare risk not getting the money.

The dress barely covered her bottom and her big boobs were at constant risk of popping out. Of course Rupert had her climbing ladders and bending over to get things out of bottom drawers, just so that he could get nauighty glimpses.

Then for some strange reason the seemingly attentive Rupert kept bringing her cups of tea, all very nice but unfortunately this meant that after a couple of hours Tracey was desperate for a wee.

"Excuse me Master Rupert," she said and flounced to the bathroom. It would be good to get away from the brat for a few minutes. She tried the bathroom door. It was locked.

"Master Rupert! I can't get in the bathroom!"

"No," said Rupert.

"Don't play silly buggers Master Rupert, I need a wee. Give me the key to the bathroom"

"I thought you might like to work in your bra and knickers from now on."

"Don't be silly Rupert. I mean Master Rupert. I'm desperate give me the key."

"I'll swap the key for your dress."

"Rupert! I mean Master Rupert, I'm goimg to have to go on the floor!" Tracey really was desperate by this time, standing cross legged and hopping up and down.

"Go on then."

Of course Tracey couldn't go on the floor. Normally she would have wiped the floor with Rupert, but she was worried about the money and when you're desperate for a wee it rather takes over your thinking. She flung off her dress, grabbed the key and ran to the bathroom.

Sitting there she contemplated what she had done. She was down to her bra and knickers for the rest of the day, but she would have something to say to Master Rupert when she'd got the money.

The door opened and Rupert poked his head in.

"Don't spend all day in there," he said.

Tracey, panties round her ankles, looked up at him and nearly died of embarrassment.

Rupert soon had Tracey running round the house in her undies until inevitably she needed a wee again.

"Master Rupert please," she was begging for the key.

"I think you should do a striptease."

"What."

"You heard. Do a striptease then you can have the key."

Tracey was getting desperate again. If only she hadn't needed the money she'd have weed on the Chambers carpet just to show them. But of course she did need the money - the money and a wee. And you just can't argue when you're desperate for a wee. She had her bra and knickers off before you could say 'Master Rupert'.

She wasn't surprised any more when Ruoert popped his head in again, "it doesn't take all day to have a wee," he said.

Tracey, naked on the toilet, was mortified. She crept out. She was naked, she had been seen having a wee, she just had to have the money, she knew she was broken.

"Hands and knees Tracey."

"Yes Master Rupert."

Tracey knelt naked on the floor.

"Now you can be a real donkey."

"Yes Master Rupert."

Tracey looked up at Rupert and gasped. He had obviously planned for this all along. He was holding Tracey's donkey outfit.

First a big pair of ears which he put on her hair. Then a donkey bridle over her head. It had a strap which went in her mouth so she couldn't speak properly. When she tried to say something, all that came out was 'Hee-haw, hee-haw'.

Finally her donkey tail. How was he going to fix that in place? She gasped when she saw it. It was designed to be plugged into a suitable hole. Tracey only had one hole that was suitable, and she realised with horror that it was exposed.

"Hee-haw, hee-haw!" Tracey tried to object but could only make a funny noise.

She felt the tail plugged in.

"Hee-haw, hee-haw!"

"Well done son!"

Tracey looked up. Mr Chambers was standing there smiling down at her.

"I left your mother at the picnic site. I see you've got our uppity little associate where she belongs. Well young lady. Thought you'd extract four hundred from me did you. Fetch the riding crop Rupert, we'll see if we can teach the donkey to do some tricks."

Tracey's eye's opened wide as the riding crop descended on her pert little bare behind, "Hee-haw!" she said, "HEE-HAW!!!"
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