A Suitable Position Chapter 6

Below is part 6 of ASP, thanks again to all who have commented and indicated their liking for the story so far, without feedback it’s hard to know if people are enjoying it, so it’s much appreciated. The intention is to continue this for a few more chapters but life does have a habit of getting in the way and with a serial that can be a major challenge. As I’ve mentioned previously there have been some very unwelcome interruptions recently and while I can’t promise anything I will try to continue for another two chapters at least. Hope you enjoy it.

Carrie

A Suitable Position©

Chapter 6

A Minor Indiscretion

After his employer had closed the bathroom door behind her a wave of despondency washed over Robert. Everything had moved so fast in the last twenty four hours his brain seemed incapable of processing the sequence of events that had led to him to now being dressed as a servant girl. While he was not exactly being physically held prisoner leaving her employ was nevertheless out of the question, not least because she held his passport but more importantly because of the serious view taken in the jurisdiction with regard to breach of contract as he had recently discovered from Greta. Of course his own physical appearance particularly that damned feminine chest of his- he could not bring himself to refer to them as breasts – did not help and in truth this may well be the real cause of his incarceration in women’s clothing or more to be more accurate - a ghastly maid’s uniform. There had to be a way out of this nightmare but he needed a lot of time to think about it and right now he felt, looking at the several of items of clothing scattered around the luxurious bedroom, he had other and more immediate issues to take care of. 

“So this is what I’ve become” he said under his breath “a lady’s maid, another name for a personal skivvy. Now I understand what Greta means about having to perform such menial tasks, for heaven’s- picking up her underwear. Couldn’t she do this herself?”

Despite his deep resentment at his unwilling and practically forced feminisation not to mention his subsequent appointment as Frau Kirchen’s probationary lady’s maid he knew that he had to create the illusion that at the very least he was making an effort to do his best to justify her faith, misplaced as it was  in him. Failure to make a good impression he felt may well land him in deeper trouble. For some inexplicable reason this woman was deluded in the belief that appointing him as her personal maid was akin to bestowing a great favour on him however he decided that as she would reappear shortly this was not the best time to devote too much time to the problem and had better just get on with it. He began by picking up her discarded lingerie and foundation wear and for some inexplicable reason he held the white silk panties to his face and inhaled her powerful intimate scent he had never done this before and he felt a rush of excitement grow in his groin. He then turned his attention to the satin ivory slip and buried his face in the soft material greedily breathing in the delicate floral aroma of her perfume. The sound of a bottle dropping in the bathroom brought him to his senses and he quickly folded the garments placing them in a neat pile on one of the chairs. He thought it would make a good impression if he knocked on the bathroom door and offered his help.

“I heard something Madam, do you require assistance” he said and winced at how abjectly servile he sounded.

“No Daphne it’s quite all right I just dropped the shampoo. What an attentive boy you are” she called back clearly impressed by her new maid’s alertness.

Dressed as he was he once more found this pointed reference to his true sex an unwelcome reminder of what he had now become. However he took great comfort in the thought that he had easily managed to deceive her with this false display of subservience.

A small victory but a victory nonetheless, he thought.

He felt a little pride creep back into his being and even managed a little spring in his step as he crossed the room to resume his tasks. This did not last long as he began reading the note she had left for him outlining his duties as her new maid, he cringed as his eyes scanned its contents it would fall to him to hand wash the very items he had just removed from her person. He had little time to dwell on this as he heard the shower stop and knew it would not be long before she emerged from the bathroom, he quickly set about assembling the required clothing which presented little problem as he was now familiar with the drawers in which they were kept. He laid them out on the bed, panties and stockings, a high open-bottomed girdle with the embroidered initials RK in the satin panelling  exactly the same as the one he was forced to wear, a long line bra and a deep burgundy satin slip. He returned to her cavernous closet to retrieve the taffeta dress she required, luckily it was the same colour as the slip so was easily identifiable amongst the tens of dozens of dresses she had hanging there. He couldn’t help but notice how sensuous the soft material was as he carried it to the bed where he took great care in laying it out alongside her underwear he returned to the closet and fetched the matching shoes. No matter how hard he tried the many mirrors placed around the room made it impossible for him to avoid seeing the smartly uniformed maid busily going about her or more accurately his lowly tasks. The little boost he had gotten minutes earlier now disappeared, he loathed the image thrown back at him and was crestfallen at being powerless to do anything about it but these thoughts vanished with the emergence of Frau Kirchen from the bathroom. She made her way to the bed and closely inspected each item of clothing he had laid out, he waited hands folded over his apron awaiting her opinion.

“Excellent” she said after what seemed an eternity “I think you may just have what it takes to be a lady’s maid.”

He had to fight hard to prevent recoiling at her remark but understood immediately she meant it as a compliment and had little choice in his reply.

“Thank you Madam”

She untied her robe and allowed it fall to the ground he rushed to pick it up and lay it on the ottoman. Much as he tried to avert his eyes he couldn’t help but gaze on her statuesque body, her breasts were large but perfectly formed and the weight she carried around her midriff did in no way take from her figure. Her thighs were large but muscular like those of an athlete, a cross county skier perhaps and he was astonished to see her pubic mound was entirely hairless. He had never seen a woman so smooth and couldn’t take his eyes off it, he could feel an unwelcome swelling rise between his own legs. This did not go unnoticed.

“Do you like what you see? Probably a little excited downstairs, eh?” she said.

His mouth dried up and he knew his face had betrayed him he could only nod unable to stem the blood from engorging his penis, he felt his knees tremble at the magnificent sight in front of him.

“On your knees” she ordered and sat on the bed opening her legs, as he knelt on the floor she motioned him closer so his face was just centimetres from her vulva.

She looked down on him with a mixture of dismay and weariness in the way a teacher would express disappointment in a promising young schoolboy and continued,

“You are probably experiencing some confusing emotions perhaps even still thinking of yourself as a male with all those horrible testosterone urges, these feelings are also probably making you forget what your new role is, isn’t that right dear?”

“Yes Madam” he replied trying to surpress the tormenting pulses between his legs.

“Now tell me what your name is?” she said tilting her head and fixing him with piercing violet eyes. 

He looked up at her and could feel the shame form a lump in his throat as he gave his reply.

“Daphne, Madam.”

“Daphne? now enlighten me is Daphne a boy’s name?” she asked.

“No Madam.” he muttered.  

“A girl’s name then?” she continued.

Shamefully he could only nod his agreement.

“I see and tell me Daphne, what is your role in my household?” she asked.

“A lady’s maid Madam, your lady’s maid.” he mumbled, he could feel the blood rapidly draining from his member as his humiliation continued.

“A lady’s maid.” she repeated “and do tell me Daphne, is a lady’s maid usually male?”

“No, Madam.” he said quietly.

“And are you a male…..Daphne?” she continued the interrogation.

“Yes … I mean no…. I mean……. I don’t know…” he stammered his penis now shrunk completely.

“You don’t know?” she repeated “well I suppose that’s only to be expected, you do seem a little confused so I will try to make it simpler for you. Would a boy have to wear a bra?”

“No Madam.” he said suddenly feeling mentally shattered and completely demoralised.

“Or a maid’s uniform?” she pressed him.

“No, Madam.” he answered his voice now no more than a whisper.

“So it is probably fair to say you are more feminine than masculine, more girl than boy?” she asked.

By now he was close to tears and only wanted this torture to end.

“Yes Madam.” he practically sobbed.

“I’m so glad we’ve established that” she said looking down imperiously at the whimpering boy “it’s so important that you know your place and be constantly aware of how conduct yourself. A lady’s maid is by definition a female and while you may not be quite atomically female you do have certain feminine characteristics and as you have just admitted you  probably feel more feminine than masculine  so it is most important in the light of your new position as my maid that you now comport  yourself in an exclusively feminine manner. So, for example when you undress and see me naked you will look upon me as, say Greta or Miss Clarissa or any other female would- as one female to another, taking into account the obvious and major consideration that of course  I am the Mistress and you are my maid. Do you understand me?”  

“I think so Madam” he whimpered.

She picked up the dressing gown and handed it to him as she he held out her arms for him to slide it up them, tying the belt herself.

“I suppose you reaction may have been understandable” she continued “but I have also noticed that while you give the impression of  accepting your new post as my maid I think I detect a degree of unwillingness on your part which unsettles me somewhat. Of course I may be wrong but I feel it prudent to take measures now rather than remedial action at a later stage which would be painful for both of us. I always find a salutatory lesson now will go a long way to encourage you in your efforts to become a better servant. Now get up and bend over the bed lifting your skirts and slip.”

“I’m very sorry Madam, it won’t happen again.” he desperately pleaded the seriousness of his offence now becoming clear and cursing himself for not disguising his attitude better.

“Perhaps, but I find there is nothing like a few strokes on the posterior to act as a gentle reminder. Don’t worry, it won’t be too painful as you may remain girdled thus absorbing some of the punishment and as it’s your first offence I shall only use a hairbrush.

He desperately wanted to protest or at the very least reason with her but the resolute look on her face dissuaded him from even making an attempt. He meekly assumed the required position and adding even more insult to injury he obediently raised the skirt of his uniform and the slip underneath, hoping to hide his shame he buried his face in the softness of the satin quilt to await his punishment.

“Self-control, Daphne, self-control” she repeated as he felt her hand caress the smooth nylon od the girdle stretched tautly over his buttocks, she continued “yes self- control is what you require, the suppression of those horrible male urges. Isn’t that right, my pretty boy?” she said as the first blow fell on his right cheek.

“Yes Madam” he answered wincing as the brush landed on his girdled bottom.

“Yes Madam, indeed. Daphne I’m afraid you have a lot to learn about self-discipline which is why I’m teaching you this valuable lesson. Do you understand?” she intoned warming to her task as she applied the second stroke.

“Yes Madam” he replied as it arrived with more force on his left cheek.

“You have been a complacent and ill -disciplined girl…..  no, that’s not atomically correct I suppose perhaps  girlyboy is a better word, as you display the characteristics of both sexes, ” she said, the tone of disappointment clear in her voice as she administered the third stinging slap of the brush “now tell me what have you been?”

“A complacent and ill-disciplined…. he sobbed.

A fourth sharper stroke acted as a reminder.

“GIRLYBOY” he yelped the sound of the horrible word causing more discomfort than the brush.

“That’s right, a girlyboy. Now you do wish to become a well –mannered and disciplined maid, don’t you?” she cooed as the brush came down for the fifth time.

“Yes Madam” he groaned his cheeks twitching under the sharp sting.

“Do you actually know what makes a good maid Daphne?” she asked, now rubbing his girdle gently allowing him a small respite before delivering the sixth and final sharp smack.

“No Madam” he whimpered through salty tears as his hips writhed from the hard thwack of the brush.

“Obedience, discretion, devotion and subservience to one’s Mistress. Do you think you could master these qualities Daphne?” she enquired of the sobbing boy.

“Yes Madam” he blurted relieved his humiliation was over.

“Then repeat them my darling girlyboy” she said before the instrument of correction found its target for the coup de grace.

“Obedience, discretion, devotion and subservience to my Mistress, Madam” he sobbed as he buried his head once more in the satin quilt.

“Good girl” she said “now Robert, and I am addressing you as a male for a good reason, you  must realise that these are attributes of which unfortunately the male sex has little experience and sadly even less interest in gaining a reasonable understanding of, which as you have found to your cost has resulted in a humiliating but I hope enlightening experience. These are essential traits that I require in my maid and ones you must assimilate if you are not to find yourself on the receiving end of another punishment, which I assure you will be more severe. I do hope I have made myself clear, you may get up now.”

He struggled off the bed, the hot tears welling up in his eyes as he fixed his slip and dress, Frau Kirchen handed him the hairbrush and he returned it to the dressing table.

“I sincerely hope you have learned your lesson” she continued at the sorry sight in front of her and fixing him with that intense stare.

“Yes Madam” he answered very slowly recovering some composure now that his uniform was back in place, he noticed she had arched her eyebrows as if she required a further response. He completed his humiliation by being forced into expressing his gratitude for his punishment.

“Thank you Madam.” he said quietly and curtsied.

This had the desired effect and a pleasant smile broke out on her face.

“It is most important” she explained “that in your new position you understand how to behave in the presence of ladies who may be in various states of undress. You must be attentive and never display those horrible base characteristics associated with the male sex as you have done so earlier.” She looked at him intently and he felt himself blushing before she resumed her lecture.

“You must also remember while your sex may be notionally male your gender as my maid must be unquestionably female, lady’s maids should be engaged and observant and as you have found out always discreet. Do you understand?”

“Yes Madam” he said hoping he sounded genuine, which he was as he had no desire to go through such a degrading experience again.

“Good girl” she said, satisfied that he had learned his lesson “now fetch me the dark green box on the dressing table.”

He retrieved the box and curtsied as he handed it over.

“Turn around” she ordered.

He was fearful that this was another punishment and was amazed to find her hands come over his head and fit a choker of pearls snugly around his neck.

“You surprised me by showing such fortitude in the way you received your punishment.” she whispered softly as she gently locked the clasp “a rare characteristic in servant girls these days and a trait I find most admirable in a lady’s maid. I believe in rewarding such qualities. On my last trip to Berlin I purchased this from a small but expensive artisan jeweller.”

She led him by the hand to the dressing table and stood beside him facing the mirror. Wearing a maid’s uniform and women’s restrictive underwear was a truly mortifying experience and he was constantly reminded of the fact with every movement of his body but seeing his reflection in a mirror together with that of his employer was extremely humiliating, yet  another reminder of how far he had fallen since he arrived in this household. The close fitting choker was about seven centimetres wide and as he viewed his reflection it looked and felt as if he was wearing a collar like a pet dog or cat or even worse …a slave, this was yet another symbol not only of his servitude but more importantly her dominance over him. Despite these thoughts running through his head he couldn’t help but notice the genuinely contented look on her face as she smiled back at him from the mirror and he realised that while he saw this  as one more badge of shame  she obviously saw this as a gift for his courageous response in a very difficult situation. While he still felt degraded he remembered Greta telling him that even though Madam was strict she was also a very generous employer, he now knew what she meant and felt this was an opportunity to get back into her good books, plans for a rebellion would have to wait. In the circumstances discretion was the better part of valour. She moved behind him and adjusted the choker slightly and gazing at both their reflections in the mirror said,

“My how pretty you look Daphne, these pearls certainly suit your complexion.”

“Thank you Madam, it is beautiful, you are a very generous mistress.” he said deliberately using that hated word to confirm his servile status desperately hoping to convince her of his subservience. From somewhere he managed to create what he hoped looked like a genuine smile and bobbed a curtsy.

“Excellent I think you are finally beginning to understand the true nature of our relationship, mistress and maid. It is most important that the maid uses such a respectful form of address and indeed should be used subliminally.” she beamed clearly delighted at his deferential attitude and fingering the choker continued “now you must only wear this when you are acting as my lady’s maid, naturally pearls would appear far too ostentatious while working as a housemaid.” she instructed, “now time to get dressed.”

He set about his task with his painful and humiliating lesson not only fresh in his mind but also  on his buttocks, he knelt and held out the full-cut white silk panties for her to step into and was the soul of discretion averting his eyes as he gently pulled them up and over her hips. He had some trouble with various aspects of her underwear particularly the firm open bottom girdle which was a struggle to pull up and the zipper proved to be slightly troublesome but he eventually managed. 

“You have very delicate hands” she said and paused for a moment as he manfully struggled trying to close her bra.” so unlike Greta‘s, she has great big shovels of hands, it was like having a ploughman as my maid.”

“Thank you Madam” he answered, embarrassed by her compliment as he again knelt and began slipping on her silk stockings and listened carefully as she instructed him on how to fasten them to the garters on the girdle.

“Not bad, however I’m sure you will improve with practice.” she announced at his first attempt at the intricate and unfamiliar procedure.

He lifted the satin burgundy slip over her head and stood back as she adjusted the straps to her liking and remembering her words about being attentive he helped settle the slip around her knees. She acknowledged this with a smile.

“You may watch me apply my make-up it should help you when you have to put your own face on.” she said.

This seemed like death by a thousand feminine cuts, his masculinity faced yet another assault as he now realised he would be required to wear make-up, he followed her to the dressing table where for what seemed like an eternity he had his first lesson in how to apply make-up.  He suspected this was a trial of his commitment to his new position and he resolved to pay close attention. When she finished she ordered him to put her into her dress, a simple enough task which he managed without too much trouble and locating the zipper soon had the process completed. The word “attentive” still ringing in his ears he dropped to his knees again and gingerly lifted her foot into the four inch stiletto carefully placing the strap around her elegant ankle and gently buckling it, repeating the procedure with her left foot.

“Good boy” she purred glancing down at him with a patronising look, a look a parent or teacher would give a child when they achieved some simple task, adding “as an act of repentance you may kiss my hem.”

He was repulsed by this request but felt this was a test of his obedience and conscious that she astutely perceived his lack of enthusiasm which resulted in his punishment he performed this further humiliating task without hesitation. After he had debased himself yet again with this display of subservience she allowed him to rise to his feet and instructed him to follow her once more to the dressing table where she sat down and opened another box removing a silver necklace with several emeralds set into it, slipped a matching ring on her finger and taking the necklace placed it around her neck holding both ends with her fingers. No words were spoken.

She merely looked at him in the mirror, he instinctively knew what to do and moved behind her taking each end of the necklace she lifted her hair allowing him to secure the clasp, she took a few moments to arrange the necklace to her satisfaction .The silence continued. She glanced in the mirror once more and handed him the brush, the very instrument of humiliation that had just been used to degrade him, and simply nodded. Once more instinct took over and he began gently brushing her hair now  extremely mindful of the qualities she expected in a good maid, he did not meet her stare and eyes downcast diligently concentrated on the task at hand, after what seemed like an hour but could only have been a minute or two she finally broke the silence.

“Thank you Daphne, that will do for now, I am extremely pleased with the improvement in your performance you certainly appear to have understood and acted on my concerns regarding your earlier behaviour. I am pleased you really are leaning, what a clever boy you are.”

I just didn’t want another beating he screamed inside his head but she was right, he was learning and just not the way she thought, he knew an enthusiastic response was what she expected.

There is no way I’m going to become your servile maid he determinedly said to himself.

“Thank you Madam” he lied through a pleasant smile trying his best to sound willing and well- disposed to his slavish position.

She removed the elaborate stopper from a green antique perfume bottle and dabbed it behind each ear and then the back of her neck, as she moved the stopper to her cleavage his newly learnt lesson immediately sprang to mind and he discreetly averted his eyes.

“Yes…….” she looked at the reflection of new submissive boymaid in the mirror with a satisfied expression “very pleased, indeed, now run along and change the towels in the bathroom and make sure the floor is dry.”

In the mirror she observed him cross the bedroom floor and as she completed a few minor adjustments to her make-up her thoughts turned to this strange but nonetheless intriguing situation.

The servant problem – it seems to be the eternal problem of the upper classes. The difficulty one has in getting proper servant girls these days not to mention keeping and training them is becoming extremely tedious, at least signing a watertight contract seems to have solved the problem of them leaving prematurely. Life really is strange I have been searching for months for a girl I could train as my lady’s maid and now the most likely candidate turns out to be a male. A MALE FOR GOODNESS SAKE!

 What is the world coming to? It is preposterous of course to consider a male as a maid and a lady’s maid at that but in the absence of a suitable female candidate what else is one to do. Needs must, I suppose. One of the reasons I kept Greta was to teach her a lesson, her dishonourable behaviour in not abiding by her contractual obligations has its consequences, a lesson in humility which finally I think she may be learning. As a general housemaid she is adequate but as she is older and has experience in another profession is therefore far less malleable than a younger person. Perhaps I really should have had her sent to prison.

Robert, oh dear I really must stop referring to him as such, Daphne that is, while obviously not ideal in being a male has displayed certain attributes which show promise for life in service as a lady’s maid. Unfortunately he does seem to possess a degree of masculine arrogance which hopefully he will lose as he spends more time in skirts, well his maid’s uniform to be more precise. Even with the more haughty girls I have employed once they’re in uniform the impudence seeps out of them, it never fails even in the most pretentious females. It may take weeks, months in the more headstrong like Greta, but they usually succumb in the end. With Robert, Daphne I mean, I suppose if he doesn’t discard that horrible male trait it can always be beaten out of him, he seems to respond well to the hairbrush and I dare say he needs to be reminded of it every now and then, punishment concentrates the mind -spare the rod and spoil the maid. However despite this he is far less strident than some of the maids I have had in the past, he does  appear to be more refined and has such soft and delicate hands. Yes, many of the qualities required for a good lady’s maid, it’s no wonder Aunt Agatha and Clarissa were fooled. He does need training of course but then I have always relished a challenge. A male lady’s maid, yes that is a challenge.

The bathroom door closing roused her from her musings and her eyes followed him in the mirror as he presented himself to her. There was nothing more left for him to do but fetch her jacket and hold it for her to slip into.

“I won’t need you to undress me this evening as I may be late home but you are still to be in bed by nine” she said  “you will resume your duties in the morning, Greta will give you your instructions.”  

“Yes Madam” he replied.

“Oh I almost forgot” she said walking to her underwear drawer and after searching for a moment  handed him a pale blue satin nightgown, “I think this is more appropriate for you now than pyjamas and you had better wear this underneath.”

He cringed at the softness of the garment but was horrified when she also handed him a formidable looking corselette similar to the one she was wearing earlier.

“After all” she continued “we don’t want you having another “accident”…….. now do we?”

“No Madam” he said as his eyes fell to the floor at the reminder of her discovery concerning his nocturnal emission from the previous night.

“Most males are prisoners of their testosterone fuelled hormones and there probably is a better way to control it but a tight fitting night time corsellette under your nightgown will have to do for now. It would be very embarrassing to have to confess to another unfortunate leakage I consider this to be the best option, I’m sure you agree?”

There were so many humiliations he had endured up to this point, being forced into a maid’s uniform, being punished with a hairbrush, curtsying, wearing a bra, the list seemed endless one worse than the other he was at a loss to know in which order to place them. Now this, it was overwhelming and it would only get worse unless he could find a way to stop it, there had to be a way he just hadn’t thought of it yet.

“Are you listening boy?” she snapped rousing him from his thoughts.

“Yes Madam, of course Madam. It is the best option.” he was forced to say.

“Very well then, that’s settled, as you are new to the position and until you are fully trained Greta will instruct on your duties in my absence.” she said as she made for the door.

He laid his new nightwear on the bed and hurried to the door where she was waiting for him to open it.

After she had left he examined the corselette and reluctantly had to concede that while it would be uncomfortable not to say degrading to wear, the horrible garment should prevent any unwelcome ejaculations and at the very  least it would avoid that particular humiliation. He vividly remembered the contemptuous looks he received that morning when both Greta and she had discovered his semen stained pyjamas and he did not wish to go through that again. He picked up the nightgown and held it up to himself, it confirmed his worst fears, it was floor length with long floaty chiffon sleeves, tight lace cuffs forming billowing sleeves and the skirt oh that terrible skirt it was so voluminous it looked like it almost had a train. 

Awful. he thought. Just awful.

He quickly tidied the room and then left to deposit his new nightwear in his own room before joining Greta for dinner.

“My, my…. who’s been a good girl for her mistress?” Greta chirped as he walked into the kitchen.

He forgotten about the pearl choker and just mumbled something but she came closer and fingered his new jewellery.

“Very nice, very nice indeed” she said and rolling the thick gold chain around her neck between her fingers, added “See, it’s not all bad  I told you she was generous, it seems you’re her new little pet now and  that choker around your neck looks like your collar.”

Robert knew she was right and could feel the anger rising within but said nothing, right now he needed allies not enemies, he just gave her a weak smile.

He made himself useful around the kitchen hoping that this would deflect any sarcastic comments Greta may direct at him. He helped her with preparing dinner and feigned taking an interest in her cooking which seemed to get a good reaction from her.

I’m getting good at this, he thought pleased at his new found ability for deception, does she really think I actually give a shit about cooking?

He was always terrible at dinner conversations particularly with women and remembered those ghastly dinners with his aunts and their friends where the talk mostly centred on women’s fashions, gossiping about other women, make-up products, the dreadful problems they had with training servants, visits to the beauty parlour, it was appalling but at least when they started talking about these woeful topics they forgot about him. This dinner conversation would be even worse after all there would only be the two of them and therefore nowhere to hide, women’s clothes, beauty parlours, make-up, were the last things he wanted to talk about given his present state of dress. He decided before they sat down that he would have to direct the conversation in another direction so he ensured the subject matter was mostly small talk, movies they both had seen, art galleries he had visited since his arrival, even the weather. Anything - but the elephant in the room – the boy dressed as a maid.

The only problem was Greta wasn’t playing the game.

“You seem to have adapted quite well to wearing female clothes.” she probed as they sat drinking their after dinner coffee.

“Em..errr….. I umm…” he stammered blushing furiously and caught unaware by her direct question.

She took no notice of his obvious discomfort at her enquiry and continued,

“I can only imagine how degrading it must be for you, not only is it female clothing but a maid’s uniform. It’s bad enough for me, I’m a woman but….. for a male, well… it must be so humiliating, being dressed like a girl, and a servant girl at that.”

Confronted with this unpalatable but utterly undeniable truth Robert felt the tears welling up and was unable to answer her.

“Of course you’re bound to be upset, it’s quite understandable” she continued in the absence of any reply from him “ walking in here full of male bravado and now finding yourself trussed up in a maid’s uniform performing menial tasks for your mistress.”

“I …..it wasn’t…. I mean……” he sobbed unable to find words to express himself properly and tears began to trickle down his cheeks.

“You seem to have acquired some other feminine characteristics along with your new female underwear and uniform.” she sneered at his obvious distress.

“What….  What do…you…mean” he whimpered between sobs.

“Blubbering like a girl” she laughed, handing him a tissue “dry your eyes…. girly”

“It’s just so degrading” he blurted wiping away the tears and trying to compose himself.

“You’ll just have to put up with it, at the moment you have no choice but on the plus side you don’t make a bad girl with your real breasts, high cheek bones, long eyelashes and that girlish mouth of yours. I don’t think there was a woman on that chain gang that was more feminine than you.”

He had stopped crying now but remained silent, however she could that he wasn’t impressed with her compliment.

“You think it’s degrading now just imagine how humiliating it will be if your little secret gets out, say to Frau Braun, Lady Agatha, Miss Clarissa or whoever else visits the house?”

“What can I do?” he asked panic now replacing his tears.

“Well of course I’ve never been in such an extremely demeaning position” she began looking at him with pity but warming to her subject “but I’d suggest that to avoid the enormous embarrassment of being discovered as a boy in a dress…...”

She paused to take another sip of her coffee allowing time for this to sink in and let  various scenarios play out in his head, then after several moments she theatrically dabbed her lips with a napkin before continuing,

“you would be best advised to learn how to act in a more feminine way, walking, talking, everything from the way women gesture with their hands to the way a lady gracefully sits down, there’s a whole host of things to learn, far too many to list. It’s going to be a long few weeks to be dressed like that so you will have to learn quickly as there will be many opportunities where you could be exposed. Oh my dear boy there’s so much to learn.”

“But Lady Agatha and Miss Clarissa, they…..” he interrupted her.

“They’re blind as bats, too vain to wear glasses in front of servants. As I said you’re quite androgynous and they can barely see two metres in front of them plus the fact that because Madam never employs males it meant they naturally took you for a girl” Greta laughed.

“So if I insisted more forcefully I was a male……” he gasped as he now realised he was at fault for his present situation.

“Exactly” Greta said not allowing him to finish the sentence “you’d still be wearing pants, woman’s pants but pants nonetheless. Anyway it makes no difference you’re in your proper uniform now so you’ll just have to deal with it. I’m sure it will make no difference to Madam if you’re exposed but I can only imagine how excruciatingly shameful it will be for you and you will still have to fulfil your contract. Just imagine the complete degradation.”

It was now apparent to him that his current predicament was brought about by an extremely unfortunate set of circumstances which had converged to create a perfect storm tossing him helplessly about in a sea of femininity. He wasn’t certain if Greta was deliberately being nasty or just being brutally honest and perhaps in her own clumsy way was just alerting him to the obvious threats to his exposure. The very thought of being unveiled as a male while being forced to work as a servant girl was a terrifying prospect.

“What can I do?” he whimpered as the tears once more appeared in his eyes.

Greta rose from her chair and getting a tissue went around to his side and after giving it to him stroked his hair gently and said

“I can help but I’d like something from you in return.”

“What?” he said sensing that her offer would not come cheap.

“It’s quite simple, for the last few months I’ve lived in these beautiful and luxurious surroundings forced to wear this degrading uniform, spending my days cleaning, dusting, polishing, waiting on Madam hand and foot.” she said bitterly  “ Yes, the lot of a maidservant, what I want is to experience what it’s like to be the mistress not the maid.”

“I don’t understand” he said, genuinely lost as to where this was going.

Greta continued to stroke his hair as if he were her pet lapdog, she looked deeply into his eyes before she spoke

“As I said it’s simple I want you to be my maid when she’s not around, every now and then let me feel what it’s like to be a lady for a few hours. We’ll both get what we want I’ll get to experience life as someone in a superior social position, having someone wait on me for a change and I’ll teach you how to act like a girl to ensure your secret doesn’t get out. And don’t worry I won’t mistreat you  I just want to get out of this uniform and wear something elegant and sophisticated, see how the other half lives if only for a few hours. What do you say?”

The thought of acting as her maid wasn’t a pleasant prospect but he’d already had a taste of it earlier in the library when she had him do the dusting while she took a nap. Even though he was dressed in a maid’s uniform he knew only too well that in no way did he remotely carry himself like a girl and it would only be a matter of time before he was found out. Mortifying as his present situation was -after all it was only two women knew of his true sex - it would be nothing compared with being exposed to others, a vision of Lady Agatha’s and Miss Clarissa’s scornful mocking flashed into his brain. He was lodged firmly between a rock and a hard place and knew what he had to do but still could not bring himself to voice his agreement to her proposition. He reluctantly nodded his consent.

“A wise decision” Greta said “we may as well get started now.”