Monday, January 18, 2016
Life after Bea
Thanks to all who commented on the news of Bea’s recent death I will pass on the sentiments to his wife as best I can.
Bea would have wanted the blog to continue so with that in mind I would like to post one of my favourite stories. It may not have been his best but I think it may have been the first one of his stories I read and as such I always liked it. I hope you do too.
The house wasn't big enough for me to avoid Maria for ever. I did manage to stay out of her way and, for a couple of days, when she did get close to me, either Ellen was there or I'd be saved by the telephone or something. But nothing lasts forever. That morning, she was actually coming out of the sitting room just as I was entering. I couldn't very well back out, so started to go past her, into the room. She smiled sweetly at me as she curtsied.
"Good morning sir," she said.
"Good morning Maria." I replied. "Ellen in here?"
"Oh no sir. Madame left for her charity work some time ago."
"Oh." I said. "Guess I'll have to wait until she gets home then, won't I?"
She smiled at me again. "That would appear to be correct sir."
"I wouldn't be too keen to drive any distance in this kind of weather." I commented, pointing out through the French window at the rain that was teeming down.
"Yes." Maria said. "But the mistress is very interested in chairing that committee of hers - and I heard her say that today was the day that some very important decisions are to be made. Anyway? I don't see a little rain stopping her. She's very strong."
I shrugged at what I felt to be her unspoken criticism of me. "I guess so."
She nodded brightly, then her face got serious. "Sir? I have a favor to ask. I've been meaning to ask it of you for the last few days?" She gave me a wry smile. "You're a very hard man to catch, do you know that? I actually thought that you were trying to avoid me. But that's silly, isn't it?"
"A favor?" I said weakly, avoiding the question. "I don't know as I could be.."
"Oh, of course you could. And I'd appreciate it so much?" Laying a firm hand on my arm and smiling confidently at me. Then, tightening her grip, she gave me a slight pull.
I thought of resisting her but couldn't seem to find the will or the strength. The materials of her uniform and apron crackling against my side and legs, I found myself being led all the way down the hallways to her room. I felt a sense of dread as she put her hand on the doorknob to open the door.
"Oh, I don't know as I should come in here." I protested weakly.
For a second, I actually thought it might work. She did seem to pause, but then giggled, and I was easily pushed in to her quarters and she then closed the door quietly behind us.
"Oh sir!" She tittered. "Are you saying you would maybe take advantage of me? Poor little me?" Then she looked at me slyly, her pretense of humility starting to slip. "Or are you thinking that I'll maybe take advantage of sweet, little old you?" Then she paused to collect herself, her polite face back on. "Sir, why don't you sit here?"
She pulled out a bench seat from her dressing table.
"That's a kinda funny place for me to sit, isn't it?" I said lightly.
"Not that I can see." She said tartly. "And sit looking into the mirror - please! There, that's a good ..." She didn't finish the sentence, for which I suddenly felt very grateful.
I was now sitting, looking into the mirror which reflected the whole room behind me. My attention was momentarily distracted by the array of makeup, colognes and perfumes set on little filigreed trays on the surface of the dressing table.
She had been rummaging in a chest of drawers while I'd been surveying what was in front of me. She got my mirrored attention again by throwing something white onto the bed then coming up behind me, something black and white, beribboned, quite small, in one of her hands. I couldn't make out what it was.
She caught my eye in the mirror, and stopped dead behind me, the thing in her hands, whatever it was, out of sight now. She held my gaze until I dropped my eyes.
"You were eavesdropping when my friend Veronica and I were talking that day, weren't you?"
"I .. I don't know what you're.." I started but stopped as she gave me a rap on the head with her knuckles.
"Don't lie!" She snapped. "I won't have you lying to me! You were listening, weren't you!"
She nodded approvingly. "That's better. Learn something, did you? Learn that some maids know how to deal with Sissy masters? Learn that Maria was just too stupid to see what was in front of her face all along? You, being so nice and helpful. So sweet!" She pursed her mouth mockingly and batted her eyelashes at me. "Veronica sure knew a lot about Sissy men, and how to take advantage of them, didn't she?"
"But I was being helpful." I protested.
She shrugged. "Maybe so. But I couldn't understand why the 'master'" she tittered. "- Some master! Of the house was so pleasant to me - the maid, for Chrissake! Then I started noticing how Madame treated you - more like the little woman than anything else. Tell me, do you know of any other men who's wives make them shave every inch of their bodies below the neck - so's they can be nice and smoooooth?"
I didn't answer. Hung my head in shame. She continued. "And, while I was serving up the drinks and stuff for Madame's ladies club? I heard her talk about power in business and personal relationships - pecking orders and all that stuff. Didn't dawn on me for a long time - but that's what she practices on you. You're under her in the pecking order. You're her hen. Her own, sweet, obedient little hen. She's the cock of the walk around here, right?"
I hung my head even lower. Didn't answer.
"But see?" Marie continued. "I started to figure. Where do I come in? Where am I in this pecking order?"
I had to look up at her. "But - but, you're the maid."
She smiled prettily at me, her eyes flashing brightly. "Right!" She said. "Right first time! Give the little lady a coconut!"
Then she patted my head approvingly as I shriveled inside. She'd referred to me, openly, as a 'lady'. I hadn't protested. Couldn't.
She now brought the object in her hand into plain view. It took me a second or two before I realized that it was a rather ornate maid's cap. A round, frilled, white cap with a shirred black and white rim. Two wide black on white ribbons extending down the back.
"And here's the favor I wanted to ask you." She muttered, her concentration on straightening out the ribbons for a moment.
"What favor? What are you talking about?" I said.
"Why. Isn't it obvious?" She said, lifting it up and putting it on my head, taking her time and smiling at me all the while. "I need to see how this thing looks on. I can sew things like it no problem, but I really never get much chance to see how they look on someone. I thought you wouldn't mind?"
"But .. Isn't it a maid's cap?" I gasped.
"Of course it is. Don't you think it looks pretty? Now just hold still for a sec while I pin it in place. Oh damn! I thought your hair would be long enough.. Wait. Just a second. I think I've got just the thing."
She reached into a drawer at the side of the table and pulled out what became immediately apparent as a platinum blonde wig. Deftly she pulled the cap off my head and, before I knew it, I was wearing the wig and she was arranging long blonde tresses down the side of my face, still smiling. I had hardly time to breathe a complaint before the maid's cap was back on top of my head, bobbi pins anchoring it in place.
"Please Marie?" I sighed weakly. "Please don't do this. Please?"
"Sorry dear. But we've got to establish our pecking order. Don't we?" She laughed softly. "As a matter of fact? Why don't you say 'cluck cluck' my little hen. Say 'cluck cluck' to your new little rooster. C'mon now!"
"Cluck cluck." I managed.
"Thassagirl!" She crowed, reaching behind her and pulling the white object from the bed. "Now let's see how the apron and cap go together, eh Sissy?"
"Marie? Please? I'll admit that you're tougher than me. Is that what you want? I'll admit that you deserve to be higher than me in the pecking order. But please? Please don't humiliate me any more."
She made an impatient tutting noise. "For goodness sake! Would you stop your complaining! Stand up. Let me put it on for you. I don't want to muss your hair. That's better!"
And I was now wearing a maid's apron. Full skirted, white, ruffles at the hem and breast line with black ribbon threaded through to match the cap. She tied the bow at the back, then stepped back.
"My my!" she crowed. "Don't you look sweet? I'd have never thought how pretty a girl you'd make." Saying this, she took hold of my shoulder and turned me to face her. "Why don't you just drop me a curtsey. Say 'thank you miss Marie' eh? Will you do that for me?"
I took the sides of the apron in my hands and bobbed a quick curtsey. "Thank you miss Marie." I said.
She grinned widely. "I just got an idea. Why don't you just bend over. Get that cute little ass up in the air. Go on now!". As she was saying this, she started to walk behind me.
"Like this?" I asked, bending over from the waist.
"Yes. But a little more. That's better. Now just hold it there. Now? I want you to start clucking. Don't stop until I tell you. C'mon now. Let's hear your little clucks. C’mon. Be my little hen."
"Cluck cluck cluck" I began, wondering what she had in mind. It didn't take long for me to find out.
Bent over the way I was, looking backwards, I could only see her from about the waist down. Suddenly I saw her pull her full skirts up and advance right up to my backside. Then I felt as much as saw the skirts being placed over my back, then her groin being pressed into my rear.
Her arms snaked around my waist, and the next thing I felt was her pulling away a little, then banging her groin into my back again.
"Come on now Sissy. Cluck for Marie. Come on now. Louder!"
And, as I 'cluck-clucked' submissively, she started crowing like a cockerel and going through all the motions of riding me - without any penetration of course. I knew that I had reached the ultimate degradation, my wife's personal maid making it obvious how womanish I'd become. In addition, as if I wanted to convince myself even more of this, I started to cry.
"Oh, please don't cry." She said in mock sympathy after another minute or so. "Did Marie hurt her little hen?. C'mon, you can straighten up now. So come sit down and I'll dry your tears for you."
She sat beside me on the bench, and twisted me to face her. True to her word, she used a couple of tissues to dry my face. Then she picked up a lipstick tube from the table, removed the cap and rotated it until a crimson tip showed.
"Now purse these pouty little lips of yours." She told me. "Bet you look even prettier when I make them nice and red."
I did as she said, even though my lips were still trembling from all of the humiliation she was putting me through. She used one hand to hold me under the chin and pulled my face towards her. I closed my eyes in shame when I felt the lipstick actually touch my lips. But then, for some reason, she paused. I waited for a few seconds before opening my eyes again. The lipstick was now less than an inch away from my mouth, but her face held a very thoughtful expression.
Then, was I to be let off? She let go my chin and recapped the lipstick before slowly putting it back down on the table.
"I just had a thought." She said. "Quite interesting."
I tried to look as interested as I could.
"This is all wrong." She muttered to herself. Then she placed both hands on my shoulders and turned me to face her even more directly.
"Do you consider me feminine?" She asked after a moments thought.
"Oh yes Marie." I answered.
"Absolutely. Very pretty."
"Not masculine at all?"
I wasn't sure what she wanted to hear, but guessed correctly. "Oh no. Not at all."
"And you? Are you masculine?"
From the corner of my eye I could see my reflection, the little maid's cap perched on my peroxide 'hair', the frilled apron. I licked my lips.
"Not very, I guess." I said, blushing.
"Not very? Does that mean you think you're somewhat masculine?"
"Well .. I .."
"Think you're more masculine than me?" She interrupted quickly.
I didn't know what she wanted me to say, but guessed. "No. Not at all." I stammered quickly.
She smiled happily and touched my face lightly with the tips of her fingers. Then she spoke again.
"So? Didn't you just say a moment ago that I was very pretty and not masculine at all. Right?"
I nodded dumbly.
"And then you admitted that you're not as masculine as me. You did say that, didn't you?"
Again, I could only nod.
She leaned away from me on the stool as if to get a better view.
"Look at me." She said mildly. "Am I properly dressed?"
I had no idea of where she was going with her line of questions. Took another guess. "Oh yes Marie. Very properly. That's a very pretty uniform you've got on."
She preened. "Yes. Made it myself. Did you know I made my own uniforms, most of my clothes, lingerie as well?"
I could only shrug. "Honestly? No. I didn't know that."
She nodded. "But getting back to business. Do you feel that you're properly dressed?"
"I guess so - at least I think so."
"But, if you're more feminine than me, shouldn't you be wearing a pretty dress too - I mean, an even prettier dress than the one I'm wearing? And pretty lingerie - and stockings - and high heels. Wouldn't that be the proper thing for you to be wearing? I mean, that’s feminine, is it not? Maybe some makeup and perfume as well?"
I could see the way she was going now. "Please Marie? Please don't.."
"Sissy?" She said firmly, ignoring my plea. "Cluck cluck for me please. Go over there and stand by the chair. C'mon now. Be a good girl!"
And seconds later I was back being 'ridden' again.
After she was finished, I was only too agreeable to take my apron and cap - and all my other clothes off with the exception of my underpants. As I undressed, she was pulling what looked like frothy black underwear from a drawer.
Grinning, she held up a black bra. "Isn't this pretty?" She asked.
"Yes. Very pretty." I managed to get out.
"Like to try it on? Bet you would."
I nodded, knowing to deny it would just lead to more embarrassment.
"Oh c'mon Sissy! You can do better than that! Say 'please can I borrow that pretty bra? I'd like to try it on'."
"Please can I borrow that pretty bra, I'd like to try it on." I said.
She hid her mouth with a hand, giggling. "But this is a girl's bra. Wouldn't you feel funny wearing it?"
I could only shake my head.
"Ok then. If you're absolutely sure? Here." She waited while I did nothing but blush and she handed it to me.
I slid my arms through the loops. She came around to my back and fastened it. Then she adjusted the straps to fit. I stood, blushing fiercely as she stuffed the bra cups with some tissues from her dressing table.
The next item was a matching satin, lace edged full slip. Again I was put through the exercise of asking for it. After that, I slipped it on over my body. The lace hem came down to just below my knees.
I had hopes for a minute that she was going to allow me to wear my own undershorts, but this was not to be.
"Now you can take these ugly jockey shorts off." She smiled. "Just reach up under your slip, and pull them down eh? Have to get you into something that'll match, like these gorgeous little things." She said, holding up the matching panties.
Finally, after a great deal of pleading on my part - and agreeing that yes, the clothes I was putting on were feminine, but they were really what I wanted to wear, I stood in front of Maria wearing panties, bra, slip, garter belt and smoky dark nylons, with seams running straight down my legs. Then she asked if I'd like to go over her knee "Not for a real spanking," she said. "I mean, you haven't been naughty or anything like that. In fact, you've been really sweet. But just a sort of ceremonial exercise? Impress on you of who's boss? Really establish our pecking order"
I smiled weakly, but agreed that it would probably be a good idea for us to firmly establish for once and for all, who was the dominant, and who was the submissive in our new relationship. She sat down, allowing me to lay myself prone over her knees. I slithered around for a few minutes then, squealing and giving genteel little kicking motions, I felt her lifting the hem of my slip and start to spank me on my panties.
"Liked that, did you?" She grinned, looking at the bulge in my slip after she let me up. "Well, you'll really like what you're going to do next. Come on over to the wardrobe and pick yourself out a nice pretty uniform dress. C'mon now, there's a girl."
Standing there, holding up various maid's dresses in front of me, I knew I made a most feminine picture, sometimes holding the dress beneath my chin, while I draped the skirts around my legs, checking the hem lengths.
After looking at five or six, I opted for a royal blue one, full skirted, with a square cut neckline and full sleeves that came down to the elbow and then tied in place with ribboned ties. White lace ruffles bordered the hem, neckline, and sleeves. The back had lacing eyelets all the way down to the waist.
"Great choice!" She complimented me. "It'll be gorgeous on. But put it down for now."
"But I thought you wanted me to wear it." I said, confused.
"Of course I do sweetie!" She confirmed. "But we gotta get your petticoat on. A dress with a bouffant skirt like that really requires one, so we'll just add the finishing touches, eh?"
The petticoat she brought out for me was plain at the bodice, but more than made up for that in the layers of full frilled tulle alternating with taffeta. Maria actually started giggling as she slipped it over my arms and head.
"You know?" She laughed. "I can't get over this. Here you are, letting me make you into a little woman. I'd never have believed it. That afternoon with Veronica telling me all about a little pantywaist boss she'd had, and how she used to boss him around. I don't know what made me think you were eavesdropping on our talk, but when I snuck up to the door and opened it quickly, there you were - all blushes. Just like now - though you're a lot prettier now. Aren't you? "
And now, it was time for me to put on the last item of femininity - the dress. She undid the lacing that closed the back, and widened the room in the bodice. Then she lifted the skirt so that it was open directly in front of me. "Dive into this dear." She told me. "Make sure you get your arms in through the holes for the sleeves."
Obediently, I put my arms into a sort of 'diving' position and entered the dress. Inside of the cave of material for only a second or so, I had a blinding insight into what I was allowing this young woman to do to me. I even considered putting up a struggle. It was too late though. My arms found the sleeve holes and slid through, and my head emerged from the neckline. I was wearing my first dress.
Maria wasted no time, tightening the laces that bound me into the garment at the back, then tied them with a quick bow. Just as quickly she tied the ribbons at the sleeves into little bows, then helped me into a crisp white lacy apron, then pinned the ribboned maid's cap onto my hair to complete the picture.
"Oh how yummy you look." She enthused, stepping back to view me. "Here. Go and look at yourself in the mirror. Twirl around. That's it! There, isn't the dress beautiful when it bells out like that. Don't you just love the sound of the taffeta?"
Yes, this new force in my life was making me do what I was doing. At the same time though, a current of pleasurable sensuality had started to course through my body from almost the beginning of her assault on my masculinity. It was now almost making me breathless with excitement as the feeling of straps rubbing against my body in places I hadn't thought existed, the satiny feel of the silks and laces against my shaved body - the actual sounds of the materials - especially the taffeta, all combined to put me in an almost euphoric state. I looked, with increasing amazement at the girl in the blue dress with the bouffant skirt, the frilled edges of her petticoat flashing underneath.
But my excitement was soon replaced by fear. I did fidget in a pleasurable state while Maria painted my fingernails in a bright shade of crimson. Couldn't help but let out a girlish giggle when she showed me the lipstick I was going to wear to match. But I actually did try and complain as my eyebrows were being plucked down to two feminine slim arches over my frightened eyes. I even struggled against her when she pierced my ears, but she overcame my weak resistance easily, hardly breathing harder as she straddled me on the ground, fitting the new gold posts in through my lobes.
By the time she had finished applying my foundation cream, blusher, eye make up, lipstick, and perfume, I bore an even more incredible resemblance to a young girl. Red, sulky lips. Frightened eyes peering out from long lustrous lashes. A faint pallor behind the touch of blushed cheeks. Soft shades of brown and blue surrounding the eyes. A miasma - faint but noticeable of a well known perfume.
As she had worked on me, her bantering tone gradually went away. I think that even she was impressed by what she had created. She did do one thing though that broke my mood of increasing confusion.
"Sissy?" She said. "I'm starting to wish I hadn't done this to you now, but it's too late to worry about. I'm thinking that you're very confused?"
"Yeh." I said softly. "I don't even know what I'm thinking' myself."
"Well. I don't know if this will help or not," she said "but go and get me a pair of panties from that drawer there, would you Sissy dear?"
I didn't know what she wanted them for, but followed her request by going to the drawers.
"Any particular color?" I asked.
"Nah. Just as long as they're satiny and lacy."
I found a yellow pair that fit her description. Shut the drawer and turned around. She had gone to her couch and was sitting there. On arm laying along the top.
"Bring them over, would you dear? And sit down here beside me." She indicated that I'd to sit inside her arm. I put the panties into her other hand and sat down. Her arm encircled my shoulder.
"You're all tense Sissy." She cooed. "Just lean back. Maria knows how to help."
I leaned back into her arm.
"Now? Normally I'd kiss you and make you feel just fine - but I don't want to spoil your makeup. So just sit there. Relax - and enjoy."
As she said this, I felt just a slight sensation of 'something' at the hem of my dress. Then I felt one of her fingernails run lightly up the material of my stocking, up to my knee. I gasped in surprise and pleasure, and relaxed even further back into her arm.
"There. Isn't that nice?" She asked, her hand now worming its way up under my petticoat and slip.
It was incredible. I took a deep breath, but couldn't seem to exhale as her finger worked its way to the top of my nylons, fidgeted around there for a second or two, then slid under my panties to my marvelous erection. Sleepily, I closed my eyes. A tug at the elastic of my panties, then the feel of them being pulled down about my knees. Then I felt the cool silken feeling of the panties in her hand as she wrapped them around my penis.
I started stroking one of her breasts with my hand. She drew back a little, startled I think, then her own hand re-started its magic.
The feelings were beyond description. The soft, gentle touching between us, the sound and the feel of the materials we wore. Our combined perfumes.
"Ah! The hell with it." I heard her say. "You're gonna have to learn to repair smudged lipstick sooner or later." And her lips found mine. I kissed her back, then her tongue was in my mouth. Her hand was stroking my erection with more force now. I gasped when I came, then shuddered violently. I could feel her lips opening with her smile.
"There! Feel better now?"
I lay even further back in her arms.
"Oh yes Marie. Thank you. That was lovely." I said honestly.
"Kinda enjoyed it myself." She admitted, smiling.
She wiped me off, and pulled her hand and the yellow panties down from under my dress. "Not the most hygienic thing to do to you as there's no time for you to clean up." She said. "But come on. There's lots of work to be done around here, so pull your panties up, lets get your lipstick freshened, get you some shoes, and we'll start getting lunch ready." With that, she went and threw the panties into her laundry hamper in her bathroom, then washed her hands.
I rearranged my clothing then, under her critical eye, repaired my lipstick. She nodded approvingly, and I blushed with pleasure. She was quite surprised to find that her shoes were too big for me, but found a pair of Ellen’s that weren't too high in the heel and fitted quite well. I had the strangest feeling there in my own bedroom, trying on Ellen's shoes. Try as I would, I couldn't escape the occasional reflection I saw - a young maid in familiar surroundings. The pair we finally chose were black with a heel of about one and a half inches. To tell the truth, I was astonished at how quickly I learned to walk in them. Not only that, the additional height they gave me was very flattering - at least, I thought so.
By the time we got back downstairs it dawned on me that Maria had been right. The release of the sexual tension had done me the world of good. I actually felt refreshed and full of energy, and thoroughly enjoyed swishing around the kitchen with her as we prepared lunch for ourselves. I was complimented by the fact that she made me eat quite a lot less than my usual - "better start watching your figure" was what she said, but I was extremely complimented by the fact that she was showing such an interest in me.
We chattered happily as we tidied up after lunch, then I had to give her a hand with the household chores: vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the silver. The day was flying by. With the rain still pelting down, I started feeling very snug and secure in my new uniform and job. Around four o'clock though, I started getting very nervous, and started looking at the clock frequently.
"What's the matter with you Sissy?" She asked impatiently. "Surely you can't be needing to be .." She paused tactfully " 'handled' again?"
It took me a second or two to catch her drift. I reddened a deep shade of crimson.
"Oh no Marie. Not that!" It's just that Ellen should be home pretty soon and.."
"Who?" She asked coldly. "Who is going to be coming home pretty soon?"
I was totally confused again. "Ellen. Ellen - my wife."
"If I were you, I'd refer to her as 'Madame' or 'the mistress'" Maria informed me firmly. "I don't think she'll take too kindly to a maid calling her by her first name." She paused again. "What is that strange expression on your face?" She asked.
"I thought - I thought.."
"That this was just for today.. This morning .. This afternoon." I stammered, taking hold of my skirts with both hands and shaking the material.
"Well then? You were wrong, weren't you? Come on, we don't have all day. Better get dinner started."
"But Ellen - mistress - what will she think? What will she do when she sees me dressed like this?" I cried.
"She's the boss. Can think anything she likes - except I won't have her thinking that she's got a couple of lazy serving girls. Not going to have her think that, are we now! C'mon! Or I'll put you over my knee again, and it'll hurt this time, you can bet on that!"
Horrified now at this new development, I followed Maria's instructions dumbly for the next hour or so, my whole being permeated with a strange mixture of dread, humiliation, and yet at the same time a peculiar sense of sexual excitement. As if to make up for the time flying earlier, it crawled by on leaden feet. I finally heard the car drive into the driveway.
"Here Sissy. Stand here to take Madame's coat when she comes in. I'll go out with this umbrella - and don't forget your manners. Curtsey when she speaks to you. Act properly!" Maria glared at me, and left out into the pouring rain.
I heard Ellen - no, mistress, laughing as the two came running back in through the door I was holding for them.
"Hello? What's this?" She said, catching sight of me.
"That's Sissy ma'am." Maria said.
"Who?" Madame asked, her attention divided between taking off her coat and looking at me, with just a trace of puzzled recognition in her eyes.
"Well. Beggin' your pardon ma'am? I call him Sissy. You might want to call him something else..."
"Him? Him! What on earth are you talking..?"
My wife peered at me, then started to smile. "My my! Here, let me see you. Spin around for me, would you."
Remembering Maria's admonition I curtsied, then started to turn under Ellen's scrutiny. Before I did though, I caught the look of amused contempt in her eyes.
"Stop there." I heard her say when I had turned half way around. I felt my skirts and petticoats being lifted. She held the layers up for quite a few seconds. "Yes. Quite. I'm assuming that these are your clothes Maria?"
"Oh yes ma'am - though I hope you don't mind, my shoes were a little big, yours were a much better fit."
Ellen waved her hand. " No problem. Did he - I mean 'she' give you much trouble?"
"Oh no ma'am. Let me put her into her dress and undies like a little lamb."
My skirts were dropped, and Ellen put a hand on my shoulder. Turned me back to face her.
"Well. I don't care for Sissy as a name." She said, shaking her head. "Melissa sounds much better. You agree Melissa?"
"Yes ma'am." I replied, my spirits dropping, but curtseying politely.
"Very well Melissa. Hang up that wet coat, then come into the parlor. You can serve Maria and I drinks in there - we have a lot to talk about. Don't we Maria?"
Maria looked surprised at this friendliness from Madame, but nodded agreeably and followed her into the parlor.
I hurried so that I wouldn't miss any of the conversation between the two of them, but I needn't have bothered. They sat, their heads close together, laughing occasionally. Every so often, Maria would 'suggest' that I go and do this or that, pertaining to dinner, or Ellen - Madame - would request another drink. Either way, I didn't learn anything. I was agreeably surprised at how nice it felt being a servant to my wife, my pretty uniform swirling around me as I went and fetched the drinks.
Finally Madame called me over. "Melissa? Run up to my bedroom, would you? Take boxes, bags - whatever. Go into the drawers and closets. Any ugly men's clothes you find? Pack them away for the Red Cross - and hurry please?"
"Yes ma'am." I said, bobbing a curtsey.
"And Maria?" She continued. "While she’s at it? Why don't you see to whatever's left of getting dinner to the table? I'm starved."
Maria got up, curtsied nicely, and left the room with me.
"You're doing well." She whispered. "Keep it up. Madame is really impressed!"
I blushed with pleasure at the compliment. Reddened even more as she patted my posterior approvingly.
I wasn't doing 'exactly' what I had been told, but didn't think Madame would mind. Knowing of some old suitcases we had, I hurried to get them, then filled them with my personal belongings - shirts, socks, pants, jackets, underwear. It didn't take long - I didn't see much sense in being neat about it - I had the funniest feeling that I wouldn't be using any of these articles for at least a couple of days. Quickly, I filled the cases then lugged them downstairs. Put them in the utility room.
When I got back I discovered that Maria had almost finished making dinner. I also noted that there were two places set at the table. I wondered to myself whether the mistress would want me to change before taking my place there. I needn't have worried - Maria was to keep Madame company - I was to serve up the meal.
They retired to the den with a couple of brandies while I cleared away the table and got the dishes in the dishwasher. Just as I finished, I heard the tinkle of the maid's bell. I hurried to the den. Maria wasn't there, just Madame. She sat on one of the easy chairs. Motioned for me to go and sit on the couch just across from her. Nervously, I sat down, arranging my skirts as I did so.
"Well Melissa. It looks as if you've had a most interesting day?"
"Oh yes ma'am." I replied.
"You're surprisingly good at playing the girl's part." She said. "I'm quite impressed. All things considered, I'd say that in a weeks time - maybe even less, nobody would ever think that you were once a man."
I hung my head, blushing.
"Not that you were ever much of one to begin with," she continued, "but I wish I'd known about your feminine proclivities. Things might have been different."
She took a reflective sip of her brandy. "I really don't know if you're aware of it or not, but I've taken up being a girl friend to Dorothy."
She saw my puzzled expression. "Dorothy Cavendish. You know? That divorced lady we met? Her girl. I decided that I didn't like men at all - especially you. It did help a little when you started making yourself nice and smooth for me, but it was probably too late. By that time she was coming on to me, and I found out that I really enjoyed it."
She looked at me carefully. "But now? Maria has opened up some extremely interesting considerations. Do you know where she is?"
"I'm sorry ma'am. No."
"Well I'll tell you. She's upstairs in her room moving a few clothes of hers to a spare bedroom. She's going to be my housekeeper. Know what you're going to be?"
"That's right Melissa." She smiled. "My new maid. Won't that be fun! You're going to get all of Maria's pretty clothes and uniforms - and I'm going to give you some more pairs of shoes. Maria's room will be your room from now on."
"Please ma'am.." I started.
"But you'll have to learn to sew real quick - to help Maria make scads of new clothes - and of course, pretty new uniforms for yourself as time goes by. But just one more thing for you to do." She paused, waiting.
"We'll have to make sure that you're really a girl from now on. So stand up and bend over the arm of that couch. Stick your little tush out into the room and look at the couch material."
"Like this ma'am?" I said, following her orders.
"Yes. My, you're an obedient little thing, aren't you. So just stay there like that." She got up and came and sat on the couch at the opposite end of the arm I was leaning over.
"Maria was telling me that you two were playing hen and cockerel today?"
"Enjoyed it, did you? Clucking away like a little hen?"
I didn't answer.
"Well? Start clucking for me, would you? Nice and soft like a little plump hen."
As I clucked, I heard the door open and Maria come in.
Madame was still looking at me, smiling sweetly. Our little hen is all ready for you Maria. Are you all ready for her?"
"Well? I don't know about this Madame, I've never done anything like it before."
"Oh I'm sure you'll be very good." Madame said. "I'm sure that Dorothy will be MOST impressed when she sees how you do. Now keep clucking Melissa, there's a good little girl."
And, as I clucked, I could feel Maria come up behind me. Feel my dress hem, petticoat layers and slip being lifted. Then her dress being lifted and laid on my back, just as before. This time though, there was a difference. A finger was hooked into my panty elastic, and the next thing, my panties were down about my ankles.
"Kick your panties off Melissa." I heard Maria say. "That's good!"
Then Maria's legs were in between mine and I was being spread. Obligingly, I opened up my stance a little, and she moved even closer in behind me.
Then a hand was at the entrance to my backside. Something wet and smooth was being fingered into my back passage.
"Keep clucking, there's a girl." Maria's voice in my ear sounded softly.
And, as I clucked, something quite hard came inside me with a quick thrust. I squealed and tried to push away from the couch, but Madame had moved up close to me, and her hands took hold of mine and held me there. I looked up to see her eyes widen with amusement as the thing, whatever it was, kept forcing its way further into my backside.
"Cluck cluck cluck cluck." I cooed softly.
"Cock a doodle doo!" Maria crowed, laughing in delight as her groin started banging into me.