Thursday, July 24, 2014
A Suitable Position Chapter 4
Below is Chapter 4 of A Suitable Position
A Suitable Position
Frau Kirchen’s new houseboy didn’t have much time to dwell on his humiliating new outfit as Greta who had by now established her authority over him set him to work tidying her room while she busied herself elsewhere in the house. Now left alone in the quietness of her room the demeaning nature of his new duties dawned on him, making her bed, putting away her clothes ensuring the bathroom was clean and worst of all handling her underwear and placing it in the laundry basket along with his own semen stained pyjamas. When he was satisfied he had completed his task he brought the basket downstairs to the laundry room. Greta called to him from the kitchen instructing him to join her after he had finished his degrading chore.
“Frau Braun, this is Robert our new Hausboy” Greta said introducing him to a large red faced middle aged woman dressed in a cook’s uniform, a timid doe-like creature dressed in a plain brown dress with an apron and mob cap hovered in the background.
Robert was horrified to be introduced to a stranger dressed as he was and his gut feeling was confirmed as he saw the look of contempt on the older woman’s face which was almost immediately accompanied by a snort of derision as she said something to a Greta in a German dialect that Robert found hard to understand. She kept repeating the phrase “Hausboy!” followed by a disdainful laugh as she broke off to bark at the figure in the drab uniform who immediately scurried off to the pantry. Robert was in no doubt his ridiculous outfit was the cause of the cook’s amusement and he felt his face redden as he could hear her chuckling away to herself as she repeated the word ‘Hausboy’. Greta having been sufficiently entertained now guided him away leaving the cook to get on with her work and to continue her rant at her underling, reaching the safety of the door Greta explained,
“Frau Braun has been Madam’s full time cook for years but now only works on days when Madam’s requires her and as you can tell she’s not exactly Mother Theresa. I’m still not sure but I believe that the girl, at least I think it’s a girl, used to be a housemaid here but for some reason fell foul of the mistress and was given to Frau Braun as a kitchen maid with whom she now lives until her contract expires. Best not get on her bad side, now follow me and I’ll give you the tour.”
As they left the kitchen Robert glanced back at the unfortunate creature and felt a shiver run down his spine at yet another demonstration of Madam’s authority, he quickly followed Greta, mincing in his unaccustomed heels as she acquainted him with the various rooms downstairs and what they were used for.
“When Madam is at home you must always be mindful of her bell” she explained “when you hear it drop what you’re doing and attend to her immediately making sure you curtsy when you enter the room and the same when you leave. Now you’d better get up to her room remember she wanted to see you before you started your chores.”
Curtsy- he thought as he made his way to her room, cursing himself for his stupid mistake in mindlessly copying Greta’s curtsy the previous day- why on earth did I have to do that yesterday now I’ve no option, it’s such a degrading gesture for a woman but for a man it’s completely outrageous, but there’s no knowing what she’d do if I refused.
He knocked on the door and waited for her instruction to enter and on closing the door behind him performed his ghastly display of subservience.
“I haven’t quite gotten used to a male curtsying to me” she beamed clearly delighted at his execution of the feminine display of respect to a superior “but male or female it really doesn’t matter I suppose and you perform it so elegantly ... for a male that is.”
Alone with her for the first time in the opulent surroundings of her bedroom he wasn’t quite sure if she meant this as a compliment but the visions of the terrified creature he had seen in the kitchen as well as the chain gang outside were etched in his brain and he decided to err on the side of caution.
“Thank you Madam” he lied and felt another curtsy was in order.
“Yes I think you will be a splendid addition to my household” she said as she looked him up and down before adding “once you’re fully trained of course, although I feel there is something missing but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
He didn’t know quite what she meant but remained silent as she leant forward slightly causing her ample bosom to wobble.
“My pillows, please” she instructed and he immediately rushed forward to plump them inhaling her heady scent as he did so.
“Good girl” she complemented him but failed to see him wince at being once more being referred to as a girl, he resumed his position a few feet from her bed as she continued,
“Now as I have told you I have some very important and influential friends which will be visiting from time to time in fact I’m expecting one of them this week, the Duchess of Argyll, who may stay for a day or so and as she is travelling without a lady’s maid Greta will act as her maid when required which means some of Greta’s duties will fall to you. Obviously as you are inexperienced Greta will advise you on the more general tasks about the house and I will instruct you myself on the more personalised aspects of domestic service. Do you think you shall be able to manage?”
He wasn’t exactly sure what she meant but was too apprehensive to ask her to clarify and the thought struck him that unless he was positive Frau Braun may well have another addition to her kitchen staff.
“Yes Madam” he answered somewhat nervously.
“Good, when Greta is occupied with other tasks you will attend me in her stead.” she informed him “for example in a moment when I am showering you will make my bed, tidy the room, hang my clothes in the closet and so on.”
“Yes Madam” he said as it struck him these were the very tasks the maid that attended to his aunts performed.
She pulled back the satin quilt and gracefully swung both legs onto the floor and into her kitten heeled slippers, he could clearly see her soft rounded breasts through the delicate lace cups of her nightgown.
“My peignoir” she said.
He blushed thinking she may have noticed his eyes lingering a moment longer than was appropriate and rushed to remove the silk peignoir from the end of the bed and hold it out for her.
“My closet is divided into sections” she explained as she placed her arm into the sleeves “dresses, skirts, suits, blouses etc. all have their own section and they are colour coded so be sure to hang my dress in the correct colour section, naturally the same for my shoes.”
She didn’t wait for any questions as she glided to the bathroom her peignoir gently rippling around her as she went.
Robert wasn’t sure how long she would take to shower but decided it would not look good if he hadn’t finished by the time she returned he began to panic as what to do and how to do it. He looked around the large room and caught his reflection in the large dressing table mirror and for a second he barely recognised himself and thought only for the pants he resembled one of his aunts’ younger housemaids. He now recalled how his aunts instructed the maidservants at length in how to perform their tasks insisting on the highest standards in all domestic chores. Now it was as if he had walked through the Looking Glass, he was now a servant and required to complete a servant’s duties, his memory served him well as he quickly recalled how a maid worked in a bedroom and dejectedly he set about his work. The number of mirrors in the room made it impossible for him to hide from the image of the feminine creature staring back at him. The relative tightness of his blouse meant his breasts were more prominent now than he had ever allowed them to be and without any binding they bounced around with every movement of his body, his stomach pulled tightly in by his girdle only served to accentuate the effect.
He had just finished when Madam emerged from the bathroom now wearing a towelling bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel in the similar feminine turban style that he had been forced to use the previous evening.
“Not a bad first attempt, I must say” she commended him as her eyes scanned the room to inspect his work and handed him her peignoir and nightgown which he folded neatly and then placed under the large frilled satin pillows.
“Very impressive” she added as she watched him perform this task
“Thank you Madam” he blurted with relief and without thinking he curtsied silently berating himself for his newly acquired servile attitude.
“Yes very impressive” she repeated and looking directly at him smiled warmly “it usually takes me weeks to train a lady’s maid properly even in the most simple tasks like this and here you’ve done it without any training whatsoever.”
Robert was horrified by her words and now felt very conflicted, there was no doubt he was relieved that she had approved of his efforts and could see that this had contributed greatly to her warmer attitude towards him. But- and it was a large but - he was aggrieved that in his attempt to do his best and avoid her displeasure she had somehow mistaken his attention to detail as similar to that of a well-trained lady’s maid. He desperately wanted to protest at her ridiculous comparison but was certain if he did so it would alter the mood in the room and he was certain it would not be for the better. He was also quite sure that in her own confused way she had intended this as a compliment and the approving look on her face left him in no doubt that she required a response.
“Thank you Madam” he said and against his better judgement he subconsciously felt a curtsy was required the now familiar blush returning to his face, he watched her walk across the room and into the spacious closet to inspect how he dealt with putting away her clothes, she motioned him to follow her.
“Yes very good” she murmured her approval while moving and checking the hanging clothes she then pointed to some drawers and said,
“Do you know what an open bottomed corselette is?”
“No Madam” he lied, knowing full well what it was, the unwelcome knowledge gained from years of living with women and more than occasionally being unwillingly exposed to such items of an intimate nature.
“No I don’t suppose you do,” she said no trace of disappointment in her voice and gave him a sweet smile “but not to worry I’m sure you’ll learn.”
“Yes Madam” he felt compelled to reply not knowing what she meant, wishing she would finish the conversation and allow him to leave but it was not to be and she continued much to his discomfiture.
“Well” she began “it’s a little like your own girdle except it’s a full piece which incorporates a bra and as it’s designed to cover down to the mid- thigh area it’s not closed at the crotch - again like your girdle -but open which requires the wearing of panties. Do you understand?”
“Ah…. Um…. Eerrr” he croaked his mortification reaching new depths at the reminder he was wearing one of her girdles.
“Ah I see I’ve embarrassed you, poor boy, I forgot you are not familiar with ladies foundation garments” she said in a soft voice, “but as I said you will have plenty of time to learn.”
“Yes Madam” he mumbled
“Now while I visit the bathroom” she said moving back into the bedroom “I need you to lay out on the bed an ivory corselette, one with eight garters, a pair of tan stockings, a matching ivory slip – a full one with applique lace and a pair of white silk panties of course. Think you can manage that?”
“Yes Madam” he repeated still reeling from the lesson in ladies foundation wear.
“Good girl” she said as she entered the bathroom and left him to his task.
I really wish she’d stop referring to me as a girl he said to himself it’s bad enough having to wear these clothes without adding insult to injury. Better get on with it though, she seems to be in a good mood no sense in creating unnecessary waves just now.
Finding the correct garments wasn’t as easy as he thought, each drawer contained a different type of foundation garment open bottomed girdles in one, panty girdles in another there was even one which contained several corsets in various colours. Finally he found the one she described and he then began his search for the other items frantically combing through the extremely soft feminine underwear before he found the slip. By this stage he was seeing a pattern as to where each item of lingerie was kept and quickly found the other pieces he required. She re-entered the bedroom just as he had finished laying them out as she had requested, he stood to one side as she inspected them.
“You’re proving quite an asset” she said casting her eyes over the underwear clearly impressed “it usually takes Greta twice as long to complete this, however much as I’m sure you would be more than capable of assisting me in dressing I don’t think either of us would feel comfortable being dressed by someone wearing trousers which is a pity as you seem much more suited to the position of lady’s maid than most girls I have had in the past.”
He breathed a sigh of relief at this but at the same time was incensed at her reference to him acting as a lady’s maid, it was intolerable having to perform a maid’s function making her bed, tidying her room not to mention fetching her underwear, the very idea of carrying out such a menial undertaking as dressing her horrified him. He thought she looked genuinely disappointed when she dismissed him saying
“I suppose you’d better fetch Greta.”
“Yes Madam” he said and breathed a sigh of relief as he hastened to the door.
“Ahem” Madam coughed.
He turned around and immediately realised his mistake by the look on her face.
“Sorry Madam” he said curtsying.
“Please don’t forget it really is becoming tiresome reminding servants of their obligations” she gently admonished him.
“Yes Madam, it won’t happen again” he replied repeating the shameful motion and was relieved when she waved her hand dismissing him.
After making the mistake of entering the kitchen to look for Greta he was treated to another round of Frau Braun’s mocking laughter before she told him where to find her.
“Hausboy!” she roared with great amusement, her thick accent echoing in the large kitchen as she glanced in the direction of her kitchen maid who nodded her head more out of fear than agreement and returned a weak smile to avoid her displeasure.
He eventually found Greta in one of the spacious rooms off the hallway.
“Madam wants you.” he informed her.
“Are you forgetting we’ve established a hierarchy with Madam at the top?” Greta snapped “and I’m you immediate superior, so let’s try that again shall we?”
With everything that had taken place he’d forgotten he had agreed to address her as Miss Greta while alone if he refused she had threatened to denounce him for some trumped up charge of disobedience to Madam.
“Madam wants you Miss Greta” he said recognising she wasn’t in the best of moods.
“Better” Greta replied “What for?”
“She wants you to help her dress I think” he said.
“Why can’t these people just dress themselves like the rest of us?” she muttered to no one in particular “It’s bad enough having to do housework in this horrible uniform but having to dress a grown woman is so demeaning. But I suppose it’s better than being on a chain gang like those outside”
“Or Frau Braun’s kitchen maid, but like you said she pays well.” Robert chipped in hoping to ingratiate himself. The last thing he wanted was to get on Greta’s bad side best take a leaf out of the kitchen maid’s book.
“Yea I suppose” Greta reluctantly agreed “ you’re learning, still I hate having to do it, having to stand there in a maid’s uniform while she tries on clothes worth thousands.”
She heard a bell ring impatiently and gave Robert hurried instructions as to want to do before rushing away to attended to her degrading duties.
Robert glad to be on his own carried out Greta’s instructions dusting and polishing and after some considerable time heard voices in the hall, he recognised Madam’s voice issuing instructions to Greta before hearing the front door close.
“She’ll be gone for at least a few hours.” Greta informed him as she entered the room and ran her finger over the marble fireplace and moved on to inspect the large circular walnut coffee table.
“Not bad” she approved as she sat down in one of the comfortable wing back chairs and kicked off her shoes and proffering her right foot added “be a sweetie and give me a foot massage”
Robert hesitated but she wiggled her foot and gave him a slightly intimidating look.
“Or would you like to spend an hour or two cleaning the kitchen cabinets” she suggested.
The thought of spending even a minute alone with Frau Braun was enough to make him wretch, he shook his head.
“No I thought not. Well get to it then, girl.” Greta purred still wiggling her nylon covered foot.
He crossed the deeply carpeted room and silently knelt before her and without making eye contact took her foot and began rubbing the sole.
“Gently you silly cow” Greta scolded him “I’m not a horse you’re trying to shoe”
“Sorry Miss Greta” he mumbled as he loosened his grip.
“Better, ah much better” she said as his fingers worked her stockinged foot “that’s a good girl.”
She indicated for him to change feet and as he began on her left foot she slid her right one between his legs and rubbed his crotch with her toes. He looked up and saw her head laid back on the headrest, eyes closed as she continued to work her foot against his girdled groin. He squirmed with every touch as his engorged member imprisoned by the heavy and tight girdle could not get any relief. Greta however was gently moving her hips and occasionally touched herself between her legs with her hands emitting the faintest moans as she did so. After a few minutes her breathing became laboured and her hip movements seemed to quicken, his groin was also feeling the now increasingly rhythmic efforts of her foot. She suddenly stopped and withdrew her feet and standing unsteadily straightened her apron and said in a distinctly wavering voice,
“I’ve… ah… left you a list of chores on the….. ah .. hall table….. I need to go to my room for a while.”
Robert was still on his knees as she left the room wobbling ever so slightly steadying herself with the door frame before she finally left the room, he only rose to his feet after she closed the door. It took several minutes for him to recover and for his secreted bulge to subside, after he had composed himself he shakily returned to his dusting and polishing the furniture.
When he’d finished he arranged the furniture as it was before and although still a little unsteady from his experience with Greta he picked up her list and set about the remaining tasks, the chores, vacuuming, dusting and so forth which he considered menial but at least they allowed time for him to calm himself. Later he was summoned to the kitchen for lunch by Frau Braun’s kitchen maid luckily the cook had fallen asleep in the large armchair by the stove and he was able to eat lunch in peace without any sarcastic comments about his appearance. He tried making conversation with the kitchen maid who seemed pleasant enough but for some reason appeared too frightened to engage with him. She cleared away his plate when he’d finished and placed a large bowl in front of him and after thanking her she curtsied.
Makes a change someone curtsying to me, Greta is right there’s obviously a hierarchy here and this girl is on the lowest rung, wonder what she did to get demoted? he thought as he enjoyed Frau Braun’s excellent apple strudel and acknowledged the timid creature’s curtsy with a patronising nod of his head as he had seen Madam do to him on several occasions, the maid scurried away after serving him coffee.
Through the kitchen window he saw his persecutors from earlier that morning come into view, their guard had them working really hard clearing the undergrowth at the end of the garden, sweat clearly viable through their horrible pale blue stripped prison uniforms, he could hear the guard barking orders at them, she was obviously still reeling from the threat Madam issued following their treatment of him.
These clothes may be demeaning and the work menial but at least it’s easier and a lot cleaner than what they’re doing maybe it wasn’t such a bad move after all. He said to himself as he watched the wretches labour under the angry guard.
He finished his coffee and wandered back to the hall to see if Greta had surfaced yet, he couldn’t find her anywhere but after his encounter with her earlier he really didn’t want to seek her out so he continued his duties in the hall.
Yes he thought as he lightly flicked a polished marble sculpture with his feather duster this is much better than working outside.
He was suddenly aroused from his thoughts at the sound of the doorbell. Panic seized him and he clung to the wall how could he answer the door dressed as he was. A few moments lapsed before Greta appeared at the top of the stairs clad looking very flushed and clad only in her slip but with an urgency in her voice she called down to him as the doorbell rang a second time.
“Hurry answer the door it’s probably some of Madam’s friends calling unannounced, they‘ll be livid if you don’t open it quickly. I need to get dressed I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
With that she disappeared and the doorbell rang again but this time it was more persistent, he could tell the caller was impatient and was not going to go away. He nervously made his way to the door and slowly opened it, facing him were two large and formidable women, one dressed in a below the knee fawn cashmere coat the other in an emerald green high collared military style coat of the same length, both wore elaborate fur stoles.
“What kept you girl” the lady in cashmere snapped in a cut glass English accent.
Robert stood open mouthed and completely dumbfounded in front of the two women as they swept past him into the hall.
“Another new maid!” the other woman sighed not even trying to conceal her exasperation.
“Why on earth can’t my niece hold on to her maids for more than a few weeks, never mind? Girl! tell your mistress, her aunt Lady Agatha and Miss Clarissa are here” the older woman said as she waited for him to close the door.
“I’m sorry madam the mistress is not here at the moment.” he blurted and realised that this was the first time he had referred to Frau Kirchen as his mistress and despite his panic at the arrival of these two fearsome women he felt deeply ashamed at this servile admission.
“Not to worry Agatha, we shall wait for her in the drawing room.” the lady in emerald green said before remarking “and why are you not in your afternoon uniform girl?”
“Ah..I’m… the ermm …new houseboy madam” he stammered.
“NEW HOUSEBOY! Don’t be ridiculous” Lady Agatha boomed. “never heard of such a thing, you’re a housemaid you silly girl. What on earth do you think of that Clarissa?”
“Rosamund certainly has some strange ideas regarding her servants” her younger companion answered giving Robert a quizzical look, but observing that he was on the verge of tears said “oh Agatha look what you’ve done the poor girl obviously upset having to pretend she’s… what did she say … a houseboy and has obviously been forced to dress in pants like a male to make this ridiculous pretence more believable. It’s not her fault her mistress insisted on this horrible charade of having her dress like a boy.”
“I had not considered that. I thought she was flouting the dress code for maidservants while her mistress was away.” Lady Agatha conceded and continued in a more conciliatory tone, “Of course the poor girl is upset having to wear those horrid male clothes instead of a pretty uniform dress and apron.”
“No… Madam ….it’s fine … I really am……” he stumbled just as Greta emerged from the servants’ door.
“Ah there you are Greta” Lady Agatha recognising her niece’s servant.
“Your Ladyship” Greta greeted the visitor with a curtsy which Lady Agatha acknowledged with an approving nod before resuming.
“I see your mistress has been indulging in one of these modern fads of hers, dressing her new maid as a poor facsimile of a boy. Just look at how distressed the girl is.”
“It’s really alright Madam I….” Robert tried in vain to intervene.
“Quiet girl! do not speak until you’re spoken to” Greta snapped hoping to ingratiate herself with the two distinguished ladies.
“As I was saying” Lady Agatha continued, pausing only to cast a mildly disapproving look in Robert’s direction for his temerity in speaking out of turn “I do not care for such novelties they serve only to confuse the lower orders.
Robert knew by now not to open his mouth without permission unless he wished to incur the wrath of this intimidating woman and despite their obvious and - considering his outfit and his prominent breasts- understandable error at mistaking his sex he remained quiet while they discussed his status and clothing.
“Quite right” Miss Clarissa concurred “I know Rosamund tries to be progressive when it comes to her servants but allowing them to wear trousers…. Well it does seem a tad too avant-garde for polite society although I suppose she probably meant well.
“Avant- garde? Harrumph” Lady Agatha snorted “more like revolutionary whatever next. Will we have to dust our own furniture, make our beds, cook our meals… heaven forbid dress ourselves! It’s the thin end of the wedge who knows where it will end. Could you imagine, dear Clarissa, if this got out to our friends we would be the laughing stock of society. No this has to be corrected immediately and not only for us but for the poor girl herself, just look at her. Heavens! she’s not even wearing a bra. This really has gone far enough.”
Robert was relieved that the women were not angry with him and while embarrassed at Lady Agatha’s reference to his breasts could understand her error and under different circumstances would have been pleased that they viewed him as the victim.
They seem more upset with the mistress he thought to himself feeling slightly smug, Lady Agatha intruded on his thoughts.
“Greta take her upstairs and put her into a proper afternoon uniform” Lady Agatha announced to Robert’s utter horror.
His mouth suddenly became drier than the Sahara and he felt his legs weaken, he tried desperately tried to scream but the words just would not come. Greta on the other hand had no such problems.
“Of course m’lady” she said opening the drawing room door and curtsying “if you come through to the drawing room we’ll not be long.”
“And put her into a bra for goodness sake, she’s a housemaid not a streetwalker” Miss Clarissa chipped in as she entered the room.
Greta closed the door, took the still dumbfounded youth by the hand and made hastily for the servants’ stairs. They had only gone a few steps when Robert became acutely aware of his situation.
“You really can’t be serious, I can’t wear a dress” he blurted finally finding his voice.
“And a bra” Greta blurted unable to contain her excitement.
“No” Robert said finally locating a piece of backbone “I won’t do it. Frau Kirchen would surely forbid it.”
“Are you joking” Greta said becoming impatient “she may well oppose her aunt privately but if she finds out you have disobeyed a direct instruction from your betters in general and her aunt in particular I really would not like to be in your shoes. She may view it as a servant rebelling against the natural order. Believe me she values obedience and loyalty over everything.”
Greta took his hand and walked him to the window and looked out on the garden where the female prisoners were still slaving away.
“Do you really want to join them?” she said “because if you do you are certainly going the right way about it.”
He felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the women toiling in their horrible uniforms and could feel his legs weaken, there amongst the prisoners Greta said was a former servant, could Madam really consign him to such a fate, could he really take the chance?
“Well?” Greta asked the impatience growing in her voice.
He didn’t answer just shook his head accepting he had no choice in the matter, moments later they were in his room.
“We don’t have a lot of time get undressed while I find a suitable uniform for you” she said and seeing that he was slow in following her instructions she snapped “get a move on, no time to be modest”
Robert stripped to his girdle and covered his breasts with his arms while she busied herself in the closet in which he had been given the task of arranging the previous under-housemaid’s uniforms. He had a horrible queasy feeling as she threw a dress on the bed and looked at him with a sneer on her face as he covered his breasts.
“Don’t know why you’re so shy everyone in this house has a pair, you’ll soon get used to it” she laughed as she turned her attention to the tallboy and retrieved some other pieces of clothing.
He gasped as she laid the clothes on the bed and then held up a bra by its straps, he looked at the garment in horror and noticing his discomfort she announced triumphantly deliberately using the elongated version.
“Your first brassiere, and it matches your girdle perfectly.”
He winced at the word and stepped back as she dangled the bra provocatively saying
“Why so glum?” she mocked him mercilessly “a girl’s first brassiere is a wonderful moment, you’ll love it, it will make you feel like a real woman. Now put out your arms, there’s a good boy.”
Calling him a boy only served to heighten his discomfort and he hesitated as she continued to extend the horrid garment shaking it every few seconds to encourage him, eventually she lost patience
“Perhaps I should I call the ladies? Maybe you can explain to them why you’re disobeying their explicit instructions.”
The picture of the convicts labouring under their guard suddenly appeared in his mind’s eye, he reluctantly stretched out his arms she slid the long line bra over them and quickly turned him around and fastened him into it pulling and tugging him as she did so. She adjusted the straps pulling the long breast band down until it almost touched the high waist band of the girdle she then spent an uncomfortably long time settling his breasts into the soft satin cups, all the while giving encouraging little asides
“You’re being a good boy for Miss Greta now aren’t you?, You’ll feel like a proper girl now.” or “We’ll soon have you presentable for the ladies.”
She sat him on him bed and showed him how to roll a pair of tan pantyhose up his smooth legs assuring him that he was so lucky having hairless legs and that girls would kill for skin like his -not having to shave their legs. A chocolate coloured slip with a cream lace hem was slipped over his head and she settled over his new bra this was followed quickly by a black dress, she helped him slide his arms through the sleeves.
“There’s a side zipper, you can do that for yourself” she said taking further delight in watching him zip himself into a housemaids uniform, it flared out and fell to just below the knee.
“Good girl” Greta gushed, the excitement in her voice now very evident.
As he stood rooted to the spot with shame Greta wasted no time in putting him into a crisp white frilled pinafore apron and tied him into it securely with a large bow at the back, a frilled cap was placed on his head and she fixed hairpins into it to keep it in place. Still in shock he put up no resistance as she deftly applied a light foundation and had him pucker his lips before applying the palest pink lipstick.
“Yes much more suitable for a housemaid” she said standing back to admire her handiwork “time to present you to the ladies”
As she ushered him along the corridor and descending the stairs he began to awake from his stupor and for the first time experienced air circulate between his legs, the strange feeling of the pantyhose encasing those same legs and the unusual sound made as his thighs rubbed together. The slip clung to him and he thought he heard a whispering sound as he walked. The horrible sensation of his long line bra was almost too much to bear even more than the girdle, the straps bit into his shoulders and he felt the breast band with its six inches of strong nylon material compress his flesh from front to back.
This must be what a horse feels like when a saddle is put on him for the first time he thought, although much as I hate to admit it, it does give great support to my breasts.
As they hastened towards the drawing room door he hated himself for referring to his deformities as his breasts. Greta stopped outside and made minor adjustments to his uniform and correctly sensing his unwillingness to enter hissed at him,
“Don’t even think about it, and remember to curtsy, it will be much more natural for you now that you’re wearing proper uniform.”
He bitterly resented her remark knowing full well she meant a maid’s uniform but given his circumstances he remained silent, still eyeing him intently she knocked on the door, entering only after she had heard Lady Agatha’s booming voice bidding her to do so.
“Your ladyship, Miss Clarissa” Greta said as she curtsied.
Both ladies were seated and looked at the two servants from above their newspapers.
“Excellent, much more presentable. Houseboy! Indeed” Lady Agatha trilled looking over her pince-nez clearly impressed with Robert’s transformation.
“Yes much better Agatha, she’s such a pretty thing in her new uniform” Miss Clarissa agreed rising from her seat to inspect the new maid more closely “I really can’t think why Rozamund insisted on her wearing those awful pants and referring to her as a Houseboy. Your niece certainly has some strange ideas when it comes to servants. Oh do look Agatha now that she’s wearing a bra her breasts are more shapely. Much more comfortable I’d imagine my dear?”
The humiliations Robert had suffered in the last twenty four hours were nothing compared to the abject mortification he was now experiencing, dressed as a girl, worse – as a uniformed housemaid. He knew what was required and lowered his eyes as he curtsied.
“Yes Miss very comfortable” he answered the shame coursing through him like a mountain torrent but much as he hated to admit it and despite the unfamiliar straps and band nipping at his flesh there was more than a grain of truth in his reply.
“Turn around girl” Lady Agatha ordered like a sergeant major drilling troops as she too crossed the floor to scrutinise the refashioned servant girl.
She examined Robert so closely that he could smell the sweetness of her breath which mixed with her strong but not unpleasant perfume. Up close he noticed she was quite a striking woman her thick shoulder length hair was dark brown with a marvellous sheen to it, her make-up was expertly applied though a bit on the heavy side with perhaps a tad too much eyeliner. She continued her inspection tugging gently at his pinafore apron, fingering the skirt of the dress and so on before letting her hand slide over his left buttock and squeezed it hard enough for him to notice and move forward slightly but not hard enough for him to jump.
“Yes much better” she pronounced, gently patting his girdled backside “now what is your name girl?”
“Robert m’lady” he blurted caught completely unawares at how ridiculous this would have sounded considering his new uniform.
“Robert? Robert?” Miss Clarissa repeated obviously aghast at his answer.
“Rozamund clearly has the poor girl trained to say that Clarissa” Lady Agatha suggested shaking her head as if to sympathise with Robert’s plight “I admire your loyalty to your mistress girl but we can’t have a housemaid running around called Robert. You name is obviously Roberta but – and I think you will agree – that’s not a name suitable for a servant girl. No, much too pretentious for a housemaid, something simple, appropriate to your station. What do you think Clarissa?”
“Yes Agatha it really must be something simple” Miss Clarissa mused “I recall having a French lady’s maid some years ago, Christabel or Charlotte I can’t remember, in any event it was something outrageous for a lady’s maid so I renamed her Nancy, much more befitting a servant don’t you think?”
“Quite” Lady Agatha concurred “as we have done the girl a service by freeing her from the confinement of those ghastly trousers I think it falls to us to rename her. We really need to think this over.”
The sheer arrogance of these women now they want to give me a girl’s name he thought to himself I’m sure Frau Kirchen will not allow this after all she protected me from those horrible prisoners this morning..
“Greta we shall take tea and consider the issue.”
“Yes m’lady” Greta replied, turning to Robert ordered “come along girl.”
Following Greta’s lead he took the sides of his new uniform and lowered his legs in the now familiar and subservient gesture. Leaving the room he could hear the ladies now deep in conversation.
“Abigail or maybe Agnes, what about Anne that’s a nice plain name for a servant girl.” Lady Agatha said
“Or perhaps Dora or Mavis” Miss Clarissa retorted “finding a name for one’s new maid can be such a tiresome procedure.”