A Suitable
Position
Chapter 4
Relative
Interference
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.”
