Kammi's Serial

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Kammi

Kammi's Serial

What If? Part 28

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“Oh, did you mean have I had sex with a man before? Yes, I have.”

“Are you going to tell me about it or am I going to have to squeeze it out of you?” Amos asked as he put his hand around Leon’s balls and tightened his grip.

“Ouch, that hurts. Okay, okay, I’ll tell all. You can leave your hand there but please be gentle. Yes, I’ve had sex before, many times, but always with the same man, Butch, or as he’s known now, Andre. We started when we were only thirteen and the last time was when he gave me a perm, six weeks ago.”

Leon told Amos his story…

Butch and I lived just a block apart and had been best friends since kindergarten. We did everything together, though Butch was terrible at sports. He tried his best but he was always afraid of the ball and threw like a girl. He was very fussy about his clothes and his hair. He said his mother would beat him if he got his clothes dirty and he carried a comb in his pocket from early on and was constantly arranging his hair. If it started to rain, he rushed to a shelter to protect both his clothes and his hair. Every so often he would appear with curly hair but blamed this on not using enough Brylcreme to keep it down. Naturally, he was soon labeled as a sissy by the other boys. One time, a couple of bullies pushed him into a muddy puddle and he got soaked in thick mud on his clothes and his hair. He begged me to go home with him and tell his mother it was not his fault and that some bad boys had done it. He seemed petrified to face his mother. I told her what happened but she still seemed mad.

“Go out on the porch and take all those dirty clothes off, and I mean all. I’ll be waiting in the bathroom to wash you and shampoo your hair. Looks like it will be another pin curl and dress evening, won’t it Byron? Would you like Leon to stay for supper?”

Poor Butch began to cry  and said that I had a lot of homework to do and couldn’t stay. What homework? It was spring vacation week. I followed Butch out to the porch and tried to talk to him but he insisted I had to go as he removed his clothes. It was the first time I ever saw a boy naked. I came by the next morning and Mrs. Armstrong let me in.

“Byron is just finishing the dishes and he’ll be able to go out when he finishes, as long as he promises not to get all dirty again. Right, Byron?”

Poor Butch was at the kitchen washing and drying the breakfast dishes. I almost laughed when I saw he was wearing a flowered apron over his clothes. He also hadn’t applied his Brylcreme as his hair was curly again, very curly. But before we could take off to look for squirrels in the woods, I had to wait for him to hang laundry on the clothesline, including the clothes he had worn yesterday. Boy, did he ever look like a sissy doing that. I tried to ask him about all the weird things his mother had mentioned but he didn’t feel like talking about and I let it go. Soon after that, Butch could no longer play on Saturday mornings as he had chores to do now. One time I stopped by to see if I could borrow his baseball glove – his was like brand new as he never used it – but nobody answered the door. I heard a vacuum running inside and figured Mrs. Armstrong could not hear me knocking at the door nor could Butch. So I let myself in, like I had a million times before. I wish I hadn’t. There was Butch in the middle of the livingroom, vacuuming the carpet. That was something boys just did not do, back then. He had his back to me and I watched him for a bit. He had that same flowered apron on and a kerchief tied around his head. I walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped so high he almost hit the ceiling.

“Leon! What are you doing here? You gotta leave as quick as you can before my mother sees you and I’ll get into big trouble.”

He literally pushed me out the door. I glanced back over my shoulder as he closed the door. Funny, I thought, it looked like Butch had a bunch of bobby pins stuck on the front of his hair not covered by the kerchief. A few weeks later, I went to his house after school to go on a bike ride together. Mrs. Armstrong answered the door again.

“Hi, Leon, come on in. Byron’s not ready yet, he’s kind off tied up” she said and laughed. There in the kitchen was Butch, wearing that apron again and holding his arms out and his hands up. There was a pile of yarn around his wrists and his mother was unwinding the yarn into a ball. I had seen my mother do this but this was the first time I saw a boy doing it. I muffled a chuckle.

“Almost done, honey. You can run along, I’ll leave the yarn in your room for your lesson later.”

We rode our bikes to a nearby lake. I asked Butch what was going on, doing housework and such, and he said his Dad decided that if he was not participating in sports that he had to find something to keep him occupied. His mother decided that helping her out around the house would be good training for him.

Between Butch’s new chores and me making the junior high baseball team, we did not see each other as much as we used to. I was also afraid to be associated with him as his sissyness was getting worse and worse. For the first time I began to hear guys say he was queer. I knew that was not a nice word but I did not know the real meaning.

That summer, my mother and father were called out of town due to a death of one of my father’s cousins. I pleaded not to have to go, I didn’t even know the deceased, and it was going to take six hours each way to drive to his town. Mom called Mrs. Armstrong and asked if I could stay there for a few days and she readily accepted. I packed the few things I would need and my parents dropped me at the curb in front of Butch’s house. I waved good by as the car went down the street and walked to the side door. I knocked and heard Mrs. Armstrong call out from afar  “Come in”. Once inside she called out, “We’re downstairs.” Butch had told me that his father had finished off the basement for his mother but I had not seen it yet. I went down the stairs and saw two doors, one closed and one open with lights on. Slowly stepping inside, I entered a well lighted, feminine looking and smelling room. I never expected to find the sight before me. There was Mrs. Armstrong in a quilted pink robe, sitting at a large table with a towel around her shoulders and her bare feet in a bowl of sudsy water on the floor. And there was Butch standing behind her with a comb in his hand. His mother’s hair was wet and there was a row of pin curls across her forehead. I guessed what was going on but couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Hi, Leon, come on in. How do you like Byron’s new playroom?” Mrs. Armstrong asked. “Set your suitcase over there and Byron will show you where to put it after he’s finished doing my hair. Take a seat. See all of Byron’s favorite toys” she said, waving her arm in an arch around the room and laughing. I looked around and saw a washer and dryer set - pink, a wash tub - white, an ironing board and iron with a pink cover, and a table with a sewing machine on top and a chair pulled up, with pink cushions. Lastly, there was one of the types of hair dryers you see in a ladies beauty salon, also pink. Why did Mrs. Armstrong refer to them as “Byron’s toys”?

A very red faced Butch bowed his head and muttered “Hi, Leon”. Mrs. Armstrong chatted on asking me all the stupid questions adults ask kids and also about my cousin as though everything going on was normal. I had trouble answering as I watched Butch continue to make tiny curls on his mother’s head and clip two bobby pins to each one. Judging from how quickly Butch completed his task, and by the neatness of the rows of curls, I guessed that this was certainly not his first time doing his mother’s hair. He never said a word. At some point I stopped staring at her head and saw that Butch was wearing what my mother called a housecoat. Butch’s was a pale yellow with little pink flowers. There were no pant legs below the hem. Finally, after about twenty minutes and after Mrs. Armstrong had learned all I knew about my father’s family, Butch put the comb down and spread a hair net with his outstretched hands and lowered it over his mother’s head. This too looked like something Butch was well used to.  Next he rolled the big, clumsy looking hair dryer to behind his mother, lifted the front visor while she sat under the metal dome, then closed the visor which started the dryer and turned on a pair of reading lights on the dome. He handed his mother a couple of magazines.

Before she started to read, she called out above the noise of the dryer, “Hey, Leon, ever watched a woman get a manicure? Pay attention and maybe you can learn to do your mother’s nails. I’m sure she’d love that. And maybe Byron could teach you how to do her hair too” she said with a gusty laugh.

Oh no, I thought, please don’t let me see what I knew full well I was going to see. Still playing mute, Butch opened a case on the table and began removing objects. As I feared, there were nail files, the pointed sticks my mother used and, of course, a bottle of red nail polish. Butch wasted no time putting these utensils to work. And once more, it was clear that none of this was new to him. After using a cotton ball saturated with a strong smelling liquid to remove the existing polish, he filed and poked and very carefully applied a layer of clear polish on each finger, followed by two layers of the red kind, and finally another coat of the clear stuff. Mrs. Armstrong held up here fingers and studied them.

“Good job, sweetie. Now let’s see you do as good a job on my toes. But you know what you have to do first, don’t you? And be careful.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Sweetie”? “Mommy”? Where was that coming from? As much of a sissy as I knew he was, I never heard him call his mother “Mommy”. This was not good. Once more, I guessed what was about to happen, but I was wrong. Instead of doing his mother’s toe nails, which would have been bad enough, Butch began to shave her legs.  Using the water in the bowl on the floor, he washed her feet and  legs with a wash cloth, followed by a coating of shaving cream, and lastly, very, very carefully drawing the razor up her legs. Oh damn, I thought, I have to get out of here. What if whatever Butch had was contagious? I was going to be here for three days and nights. I could leave here like Butch, a freaking, fairy sissy! And I had not seen everything yet, not by a long shot. He repeated all the steps he had used on her fingernails on her toenails. I had never paid any attention to a woman’s nails but it seemed that Butch was doing a nice, neat job. I sighed in resignation, realizing that Butch had performed all these tasks before, probably many times. And the strangest thing of all – I had an erection!

“I just need to clean up here” Butch said to me. “Can I get you anything, coke or something?”

“No thanks, I’m okay.”

Byron picked up the bowl of water and rinsed it in the wash tub. He put the towels he had used on top of the washer and threw the now red tinged cotton balls in the waste basket. The manicure implements were neatly stored back in the case along with the nail polish.

“Almost done” he said to me apologetically.

He lifted the visor and patted his mother’s head.

“You’re dry, Mommy.”

“Good. I’ll go put on my face while you do my dress and slip. Bring them up to my bedroom when you’re finished and help me dress. Okay? You can finish the rest of your ironing later.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“And bring Leon along too. Maybe he can learn what a nice boy does for his Mommy.”

Leon gave me a shrug and walked to the ironing board. He plugged in the iron and spread out his mother’s dress. It was a shiny purple (satin, I learned later) and very long. It draped down almost to the floor from the ironing board.

“This is going to take me a while. Want to go watch TV?” Leon asked.

“No” I answered, having a hard time talking. For some strange reason I wanted to see what weird stuff was going on here. My best friend was turning into a girl.

“You ever do any ironing?” he asked, clearly also having a hard time maintaining a conversation.

“No way, that’s…” I stopped myself from saying “girl’s work”. I did not want to hurt my friend’s feelings. But he knew what I almost said.

I watched as he slowly moved the iron back and forth, back and forth, then shifting the dress to a different position. Just like earlier, I could tell this was nothing new to Butch. I guess I was looking on very intently.

“Want to try do some?”

I swallowed but could only respond by shaking my head. Did Butch really thing that I, the third baseman on the school team, would iron a dress? And yet, there was something telling me to give it a try. I quickly dispelled that notion from my head.  The damn dress was as big as a tent and it took a long time for Butch to finish, just as he had said. He carefully lifted it off the ironing board and turned it back right side out. He placed it on a hanger and hung it on the chrome clothes rack. He picked up a white slip, as long as the dress, and placed this on the ironing board.

“Have to make sure I turn the heat down or I’ll burn it and Mommy will be very mad” he said as he turned the dial on the iron. Sure you don’t want to give it a try? Slips are easy and fun to do.”

I could not shake my head hard enough. Imagine if anyone found out I had ironed a slip? It was beyond belief. No way, no time, ever, not this kid. Whatever was happening to Butch, I wanted no part of it. Still, there was that something in my head urging me to see what it was like. I did kind of like the way the slip smoothed out as Butch passed the iron over the beautiful material. It was like magic. Damn, I told myself, get those thoughts out of your mind. I could tell from the happy expression on Butch’s face that he was enjoying himself. And so was I – I still had an erection.

The slip finished, Butch put this on another, padded, hanger and lifted both items up. “Want to come up with me? Mommy said you could.”

Now why would I want to watch my best friend, who I thought was a boy but now questioned that, help dress his mother? No reason in the world but yet I found myself saying “Yes”. And I did not regret it. Mrs. Armstrong was sitting at her vanity putting lipstick on her lips. All she wore was a sexy, black lace bra and matching panties. She was a very pretty woman and looked gorgeous to this all American boy. Man, had I died and gone to heaven? My mother considered it immodest if I saw her in her bathrobe. I was looking at someone almost naked. The fact that she still had her hair up in pin curls and wearing a net did nothing to detract from the sexiness of what I saw before me. In fact, strange as it may seem, it made her even more sexy, like I was being allowed to see her in a private, intimate, pose. I felt myself get even harder. I wanted to stand closer to her and touch the top of her head and had to fight hard from giving in to my temptation. My word, if I thought someone finding out I ironed a dress would kill my reputation, it would be nothing to finding out that I was excited at the thought of touching the net and pins in her hair. Now that was really weird. Probably even Butch would find that strange.

And it got better. I watched in awe, speechless, as Butch casually pulled a pink girdle up his mother’s legs followed by a pair of nylons which he easily attached to the eight garters, then wrapped a corset around her middle and pulled it very, very tight, draped the long slip over her head and smoothed it with his open hands. Lastly, he followed the same procedure with her dress. Wow! My heart was beating and I was afraid my cock would break through my pants. Did other sons do this for their mother. Was I the weird one or was Butch? Would I want to do the same with my mother? Absolutely not. This clearly, to me anyhow, was not what a future baseball star would ever do. But maybe if I was ordered to do so by my mother, I would. I always obeyed my mother.

And Butch was not done yet. He removed the net from his mother’s head and unpinned the tight curls. Picking up a brush from her vanity he ran it through her hair until it seemed like all the curls were gone. Now he used a comb to carefully arrange her hair into a lovely, feminine style. Like a magician, he brought the curls back by combing sections of hair around his finger. She looked gorgeous. Funny, through all the time Butch dressed her and did her hair, she said nothing. She just relaxed and smoked a cigarette. Now I knew that this was something that Butch did on a regular basis. His last act was to kneel at her feet and place her high heeled shoes on her feet.

“Thanks honey, good job as always. So Leon, would you like Byron to teach you how to be a lady in waiting? I’ll bet your mother would love to be pampered as much as I do.”

I gulped twice, unable to say anything, and shook my head “no”.

Mrs. Armstrong laughed.

“I’m not surprised, dear. Only a sissy boy like Byron enjoys doing these kind of things. Has he told you about his embroidery lessons? He’s getting very good at that too.”

I looked quickly at Butch and saw that he was blushing, and he did not look happy. Feeling very sorry for Butch, my instinct was to hug my best friend but I quickly got over that.  Whatever he had, I hoped it was not contagious.

Later, after his parents had left and after Butch had, at his mother’s order, done a load of wash and ironed several of his father’s shirts, we sat down to watch Bonanza. I was very uneasy when Butch pulled up close to me on the sofa and even more so when he put his arm around my shoulder and played with my hair.

“You have very nice hair, Leon. I’d love to see it curled. Will you let me?”

“BUTCH! What the hell has happened to you? Have you turned into a girl? Good golly, you do your mother’s hair, you take care of her clothes, you even help her dress. And now you want to curl my hair? Next thing will be you wanting to kiss me.”

“Are you reading my mind, Leon?” he asked and I was so shocked that he was able to lean over and kiss my cheek before I could do anything about it.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m going home” I said adamantly and stood up.

“Fine, but have you forgotten, there’s nobody at home. ‘Fraid you’re stuck here. Now sit down and be nice. I know you got excited when you watched me set my mother’s hair, and again when I ironed her slip, and you almost split your pants when you watched me dress her. You’re a lot more like me than you think. Bet you jerk off tonight thinking about everything you saw today, right?”

Damn, he was right. I had an almost constant erection the whole time I was here. And I had one now listening to him recount all the “queer” things he had done as he ran his hand over the front of my pj’s.

‘Why are you calling me names, Butch. I’m not a jerk off.”

Butch laughed loudly.

“I’m not calling you names. Don’t you play with yourself when you go to bed?”

“No, I might play solitaire sometimes, but not in bed. That’s weird” I responded innocently.

“Leon, don’t tell me you don’t masturbate?”

“No, never, ah, what does masturbate mean?”

“How about I show you, my friend.”

He reached inside my pj’s,  took hold of my erect penis, and began moving his hand up and down. As wrong as I knew this was, I could not stop him. It felt so good. So did his kiss on my lips.

“Just think of nice things, Leon, like setting your mother’s hair in lots of little pin curls, over and over.”

I closed my eyes and envisioned that scene, my mother in her robe, sitting at the kitchen table, with me standing over her combing and pinning her hair. Then I replaced my mother with Sandy Pierce, the prettiest girl in my class who I had a big crush on. I did not get very far in my fantasy before I pissed my pants. At least that’s what I thought had happened but taking a pee had never felt so good.

Oh the Guide I wish there was...

Hi everyone, Its been ages but I thought I'd pull up a couple of pics I took a little while ago. I felt very much the part and decided to make my own cover to the book--that said, I dearly wish there was such a manual for many of us. What fun it would be and well, absolutely handy! Don't have a bunch to say except that it might be fun for everyone to chip in or play along and we could make our own mini-"Complete Idiot's guide to being the Perfect Sissy Maid" here on the blog. Some chapters could include Appearance/Uniforms, Deportment/attitude, different kinds of service, Cleaning/housekeeping etc. Hope you all enjoy the pics and let me know what you think ;)

Kammi's Serial

WHAT IF? PART 27

Previous:

Brad finished the massage rubbing Ronni’s legs and feet before seating him under the dryer. Ronni was in awe after Brad styled his hair in a very attractive way. He found himself hard again.

“Hurry back, sweetie”, Brad said as he opened the spa door after Ronni was finished his treatment.  Ronni gave Brad a quick kiss on the cheek. Brad responded by taking Ronni in his arms and planting a mushy kiss on his lips. They both blushed.

After Ronni left, Brad paused and looked at himself in the mirror. “Yes indeed, life is good!”

For Amos & Mildred and Leon & Agnes, life was good too. They were now a tight knit, loving family of four. They also watched the graduation with much pride, especially Mildred. The past seven years had been busy but rewarding too as she helped draw up the initial charter for the school and then was actively involved running the school through her role as chair of the board of trustees. Agnes too had played a part by taking over control of the house the four lived in. It was a running joke between the two women about how difficult it was to ensure that their husbands carried out their responsibilities.

“Would you believe I had to put my book down and get out of my chair four times today to put those two in order. They’re worse than children” Agnes had complained had complained to Mildred one day.

“Oh, you poor dear, how awful” she answered sarcastically, “would you like me to spank them?”

Agnes realized the ridiculousness of her whining and laughed.

“No thank you, that’s my job, and I love it.”

Amos delivered the invocation for the commencement. He wore his new robe, pink satin with mauve lace trim – the school colors - on the sleeves and hem. Contrary to the robes he had worn all his life, this one ended just above his knees thus showing off his shaved legs and sheer taupe stockings. He looked much taller in his six inch heels. Leon had done a lovely job with his hair, as he had also done for Mildred and Agnes, arranging it in a neat, tight bun with a gold bun net. Amos was no longer shy about people seeing his pearl earrings and necklace, modest make-up and bright red fingernails. It was true that Mildred had literally beaten him into this acceptance. His prayer was sincere and emotional without a hint of brimstone. The ladies wore identical pink mohair suits, made jointly by Amos and Leon. Their posh hairdo’s were Leon’s creations, now the proud graduate of Elegant Beauty Acadamy. Amos had helped, of course, in his position as shampoo boy. They looked smashing.

The boring speeches made this quartet reminisce just as Lin Lu had. Mildred glanced over at Lin Lu smiling in the sunshine. They were now best friends, and lovers. There had been tension at first when Mildred confessed her relationship to Agnes, who was now also her lover. Lin Lu had come up with a solution. She set up a “girls weekend” at a mountain resort for the four of them: Lin Lu, Mildred, Agnes, and Rose. By the time the weekend was over, Agnes and Rose were lovers too. They scheduled a monthly time away and were very faithful maintaining it. If you had set up a chart of the relationships, Lin Lu would be on top and Mildred just a little below. Agnes would be on a line under Mildred, and Amos on the bottom. For Lin Lu it would be Rose and Leon. All recognized and respected the positions of each other in this chain, and no one ever considered stepping over to the other side. Agnes adapted Rose’s style, dresses with full skirts and petticoats, hose and heels all the time, as well as permed, tight set hair styles. The men wore what their wives told them to wear, no questions asked. Real men’s clothing was almost impossible to find in stores in Roseville, though some die hards smuggled trousers and white dress shirts and ties from surrounding towns. Mildred allowed Amos to wear tight pedal pushers for outside work like mowing the lawn or washing windows but otherwise he was now always in a dress or skirt. The concession for the pedal pusher did nothing to make him look even slightly masculine – the two he had were pink (of course) and mint green. His tops were tight fitting so that his bra outline was easily seen, and more often than not, Amos had his hair in curlers when he did his chores. Leon fared no better.

In only a few years the foursome had melded into a loving, respectful, and very happy family. The men accepted the fact that they were now the wives, doing all the things a wife of that era would do. Housework most of the day, a little time to get themselves beautiful for their husbands in the evening, and preparing and serving wonderful meals three times a day. The house was constantly spotless, laundry always up to date, and the husbands sexually satisfied their wives every evening. Mildred was the most sex driven. She would often take Agnes’s hand and lead her to her bed for a screaming, orgasmic roll in the hay and then order Amos to join her in her own bed to for another round. Nobody made any attempt to hide what they were doing anymore. Sex was no different than eating – something necessary and enjoyable.

The men had taken much longer to become intimate than their wives. Yes, they often cuddled on the sofa at night, watching TV. They French kissed freely when they said good night to one another. But neither was anxious to go any further, despite their “husbands’” encouragement. It seemed that they were even scared to be alone on nights when the ladies went out together for one event or another. Often, Leon would say that he had some ironing to do in the basement laundry room. (The men had created a darling, feminine looking room downstairs that Agnes had laughingly labeled their workout room, with a heavy emphasis on  “pumping iron”. ) Amos would often join him. They had matching iron boards and irons and worked facing each other. Most evenings the men changed into their nighties after cleaning up the kitchen and tonight was no different.

“Can you help me with this, Amos?” Leon asked, holding up a new, heavily ruffled blouse that Agnes had told him she wanted to wear the next day.

“Sure, just give it to me and I’ll do it” Amos answered cheerfully. He was the undisputed ironing king, having been taught by an expert, Mildred’s mother, and had many, many more years of experience perfecting his skill.

“Thanks, but I should learn to do it myself.”

“Well, then let me show you. Iron hot?”

“Yes, all set.”

Leon spread the blouse across the board and picked up the iron. Amos placed himself behind Leon and put his hand on Leon’s which was holding the iron.

“We’ll do it together, hon, just this first time. Now, treat each ruffle as a single piece of cloth, keeping it apart from the others. Use just the tip of the iron and tilt it so that your are not putting creases in the rest of the blouse. Boy, this sure is pretty but it’s also a finger burner.”

“Huh?”

“Well, first of all this fabric is so delicate you have to be super careful and then getting the iron into all the little nooks and crannies is almost impossible without touching your fingers as you spread the ruffle apart. See how I use two fingers to flatten the ruffle? Now let’s be slow and gentle.”

As Amos guided Leon’s hand, little by little he got closer until he was almost wrapped around Leon.

“Gee, I guess you’re glad to see me, big guy” Leon said in a poor imitation of Mae West.

“What do you mean?”

“Your cock is almost up my ass.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Leon, I was concentrating so much on ironing I didn’t notice. Please forgive me, I feel so ashamed” Amos said as he pulled back.

“Hey, I’m not complaining, Amos, and now I’m disappointed that you weren’t planning to give me a good time. By the way, I’m hard too. See.”

Leon had set the iron down and took Amos’ hand and placed it on his hard cock. 

“Leon!” Amos shouted, “what are you doing? Did you really think that I was going to, ah, ah, like, ah…”

“Fuck me? Is that what you are trying to say? Come on Amos, we have been good friends now for several years. No reason we can’t have a little fun together.”

“But, but, I’ve never, ah, done anything with, ah, ah, a man.”

Amos was obviously distraught  dealing with this subject. So distraught that he had not taken his hand off Leon’s cock.

“So why are you still holding on to me? ‘Fraid I’ll run away?” Leon asked and laughed.

Amos took his hand away like he had been holding a burning stick.

“Did you really want me to, ah, f…, ah, stick my thing in you?”

“Yes, I did, and I do, but I see you have lost your erection. Let’s get the blouse finished and we can talk. Okay?”

“Yes, sure Leon.”

As soon as they got back together and Amos was guiding Leon’s hand, he felt himself get hard again. And it did not help when Leon began to grind himself against Amos’ cock. They eventually finished ironing the blouse. Leon held it up for inspection and remarked how pretty it was. He hung it on the clothes rack then turned back to Amos. He placed his arms around him and pressed hard against him while he pushed his tongue into Amos’ mouth and began a very passionate kiss. Amos could not help himself, he responded in kind. With just their flimsy nighties between them, each felt the other’s hard cock with their own.

“So, big fella, want to go all the way?” Leon asked in a very seductive voice.

“Ahm, not tonight, okay? I’m not sure I’m ready for this. Maybe another time?”

“Sure, okay, I certainly don’t want to force you. But I do need to thank you for helping me with the blouse. Agnes will be so thrilled to see how nice it turned out.”

In what seemed like only seconds, Leon had dropped to his knees, lifted the hem of Amos’ nightie, and put his mouth around his cock. He was licking the tip with his tongue by the time Amos could recover from the shock of what was  happening.

“Oh Leon, no, please, you don’t have to do this. You know I love to iron pretty blouses and that’s what got me aroused. Oh no, aagh, that feels so good, please stop” Amos protested feebly.

Leon just mumbled something incoherent in response. It was not easy to speak clearly with a cock in your mouth. Amos’ actions spoke louder than words. He had placed his hands on Leon’s curler covered head and was pressing hard. Leon couldn’t have pulled away if he wanted to. It took only a few minutes for Amos to spurt his load into Leon’s mouth. He then leaned forward on the ironing board. He was breathing hard and for a moment Leon was afraid he was having a heart attack.

“You all right?”

“No, I’m not. I’ve just had the most wonderful experience of my life. Of course I’m not all right. Does this mean I’m a homo?”

This time it was Leon that wrapped himself around his friend and kissed his neck.

“No, you’re not a homo, nor am I. I believe the proper term is bisexual. It’s not bad, is it? Ready for round two?”

“Oh no, no way, you’d kill me. Come here sweetie, I need a kiss.”

They embraced and kissed softly. Amos could not resist putting his tongue into Leon. Though Leon had swallowed, there was still some residual cum in his mouth.

“That tastes different” Amos said after pulling back. “Not quite sure if I like it or not.”

“It’s an acquired taste, hon, you need to do it a few more times to know for sure.”

“Tease! I know one thing I do have an acquired taste for, that single malt scotch in the liquor cabinet. Come on, let’s celebrate.”

“That sounds  just like the mouth wash I could use right now. Lead on Mac Duff.”

They sat in silence on the couch for a while, arms around each other’s shoulder, curlered heads touching, sipping the scotch. Finally, Amos broke the ice.

“Forgive me if I’m being nosy, Leon, but have you done this before?”

“Oh yes, many times, I just love a good scotch.”

“Bastard! You know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, did you mean have I had sex with a man before? Yes, I have.”

“Are you going to tell me about it or am I going to have to squeeze it out of you?” Amos asked as he put his hand around Leon’s balls and tightened his grip.

“Ouch, that hurts. Okay, okay, I’ll tell all. You can leave your hand there but please be gentle. Yes, I’ve had sex before, many times, but almost always with the same man, Butch, or as he’s known now, Andre. We started when we were only thirteen and the last time was when he gave me a perm, six weeks ago.”

Reports of My Death (etc, etc.)

I'm back for a little while anyway.  I'd very much like to thank anyone and everyone who have contributed to this blog in my absence - you guys have been absolutely TERRIFIC.

But something has been bugging me - and I wanted to address it just now.  Lucky Girl - Anon?  I see that you've been adding a lot to Jack's story - but as comments?

If I may suggest this to you and any other possible contributors?  Write me and give me an address to e-mail to - and I'll make you an approved author for this blog. Seems to me that your additions should get a far wider audience than will see your comments, and I'm sure that most of the readers on this blog will agree.

My address is :  bdub2m@gmail.com

Hugs to all of you

Bea

Rose and Jack Part 5 -The conclusion

 Below is the final part of the Rose and Jackie part of this story. It is much longer than the previous episode and could have been twice as long if I had expanded on certain parts of the story( there were so many possibilities) but as I said in a previous post I don’t want this to turn into War and Peace as I think people would get very bored, very quickly. Without giving away the ending I tried to manage it in such a way that whoever picks up the story will hopefully be able to explore their own plotline and hopefully what went on in these episodes will not adversely affect their own storyline too much.

Thank you again to the Anon contributors and Rocket Dave for their kind words and encouragement I would not have persisted with it without the support. Also to those who found it interesting. Loved the idea of a movie, would be great to see who would play the various parts. I’m also very jealous of Anon who posted the comment  regarding “bossy mistresses like mine” Lucky girl.

Enough of the waffle – hope you enjoy it.

Carrie

 

Rose and Jack Part 5 - The conclusion

Jack woke even before the alarm rang, he’d had a restless night. The events of the night before were racing through his mind. The limited intimacy he’d had with girls, kissing, light petting had not prepared him for what he’d experienced the previous evening and even though he was unable to achieve orgasm due to the confinement of his genitals within his cursed girdle, the experience while exhaustive had also been wondrous. After she had spent what seemed like hours teaching him how to pleasure her using only his tongue she had dismissed him to spend the night alone and if he had thought his sojourn in feminine clothing would be over at the end of the day he was very much mistaken. Before he was dispatched to his room she ensured he was suitably secured in formidable foundation wear consisting of a corselette secured by a slim chain through the shoulder straps and locked to a collar at the neck. This was worn over a high waisted firm control girdle with his member tucked firmly between his legs. It would be impossible to remove. He could rub the mound between his legs but this would only serve to persecute him even further knowing he could gain no relief. Over these forbidding garments she placed an elaborate full length pale pink nightgown with diaphanous sleeves, the body of the gown had two layers, a filmy soft chiffon outer layer and a satin inner one. Fussing over him arranging his ultra- feminine nightwear she stood so close to him, her breasts pressed against his chest. As she fondled him gently between his legs she watched him squirm and writhe as he emitted low moans of pleasure. When his legs could barely support him anymore she kissed him on the forehead before consigning him to a night of exquisite torment wrapped in his cocoon of the softest feminine night attire.

Now that he was fully awake the soft folds of the nightgown were still sending waves of unfulfilled pleasure throughout his body but he knew he had to dress himself in his lady’s maid uniform and present himself to Rose or Madam as she was now to be addressed as. Looking at the dreaded garment on its hanger he knew that he would escape from the nightgown only to incarcerate himself in the prison of his new uniform. He knew his appearance had to be faultless, his apron arranged correctly, falling just above the hem of the skirt a large bow tying it at the back, his cap perfectly placed on his head, the seams of his pantyhose straight. Rose had left him in no doubt she would not tolerate anything less than a perfect presentation. Divesting himself of his nightgown he slowly pulled his pantyhose into place over the restrictive foundation wear, stepped into his slip adjusting the straps as he did so. He lifted the velvet uniform dress over his head and let it fall before zipping himself into it, he then arranged the apron and cap in the correct manner to complete the ensemble.  He surprised himself at the speed at which he completed dressing but knew it was as a result of Rose having him perform it several times over the course of the previous day. She had him practice walking in higher heels, putting on and removing make-up particularly applying lipstick with a compact mirror. The words “practice makes perfect” were still ringing in his ears but at least they were alone, it took him hours to recover from the experience with Pamela and he wouldn’t want to go through that again. He looked in the mirror making minor adjustments to his uniform and thought to himself thank heavens it’s Sunday she won’t have him working in the students rooms and his mother will be home later so hopefully this charade won’t last too much longer. The tinkle of Rose’s bell shook him from his daydream and he slipped on his increasing familiar heels and minced his way to his mother’s room where Rose awaited.

For some strange reason he noticed his attitude appeared to change from the time he left his room. He did not know whether it was the tight foundation wear, the caressing of the satin slip against his thighs, the servant’s uniform or the fear she would expose him but whatever it was as he arrived at her door his demeanour had reverted to that of a servant girl.

“Good morning Madam” he said politely accompanied by the obligatory curtsy “you rang?”

Rose was sitting upright in the bed and was wearing a similar nightgown to the one he had also worn her prominent breasts filling its cups.

“Turn around girl, let me see if you’re dressed properly” she ordered.

After she was satisfied she issued him his orders, draw her bath, tidy downstairs and his room, prepare breakfast of coffee and toast which he was to eat alone in the kitchen while she had her bath she would ring for him when she required him and he was to serve a similar breakfast to her. She delivered these commands in quite a pleasant voice not at all arrogant or condescending. It was as if it was a normal everyday occurrence, a mistress speaking to her maid. He received her instructions with no resentment just an acceptance of their new roles. It was as if his subservience was an extension of his uniform. After he had drawn her bath he returned to the bedroom.

“Will that be all Madam?”

“Yes Elizabeth, I thought I may allow you out of your uniform later, would you like that?”

He couldn’t believe his ears, finally he would be allowed out of these infernal clothes and back to his own and some semblance of normality.

“Oh yes Madam that would be wonderful” he gushed.

“Pity I rather liked having you as my maid but it is a Sunday and even maids deserve some time off, well you’re not finished yet, get on with your work, girl” she retorted.

“Yes Madam, thank you Madam” Jack beamed and gave an even deeper curtsy to show his gratitude.

Rose dismissed him with a wave of her hand, one hour more maybe, he thought and this nightmare would be over. He left her presence to undertake his tasks with a much lighter attitude. He barely felt the time go by such was his excitement and when he heard her bell put her breakfast on a tray and climbed the stairs for the last time dressed as a servant girl.

Entering the room he placed the tray on the table by the window where she was sitting dressed in her robe and speaking on the phone. He immediately knew it was his mother.

“Yes Mrs Swanson…… he’s been a darling…….yes, yes, very co-operative….. no trouble at all. Of course tomorrow will be fine, no rush” Rose said updating Jack’s mother and after a few more words handed the phone to him.

Even though she couldn’t see him he felt extremely embarrassed dressed as he was speaking to his mother.

“Oh! tomorrow, no I just thought it would be today, no that’s fine everything’s ok. Yes of course I’ll be good” he answered her and just happened to catch Rose’s eye as he replied to his mother’s last question.

“Yes I’ll do what she says” he mumbled and handed the receiver back to Rose.

“I agree…… yes of course Madam……. see you tomorrow.” Rose finished the conversation.

 “It seems your mother doesn’t want you watching TV for the day, left it up to me to organise something for you” she announced.

Jack wasn’t entirely happy, would have preferred a day relaxing in front of the TV after the trauma of the last 36 hours or so but at least whatever she had planned it couldn’t be any worse than what he had endured.

“I think before we decide what to do for the day you’d better have a shower, take off your uniform and I will unlock your corselette chain” she said

While the chain confining him to the corselette was unobtrusive it was still a symbol of his servitude and he was grateful that she was removing it. He quickly removed the uniform dress to allow her to open the lock. Standing there in his slip he turned to go to his own room to shower.

“I think it’s best if you shower here” she said, and added somewhat impatiently “well come along get undressed we haven’t got all day, there’s a robe on the bed if you’re that shy.”

He divested his slip, eased off the straps of the corselette and pulled it down around his ankles he had to sit on the bed to remove his pantyhose, leaving just the high waisted girdle. Embarrassed he turned around and struggled out of it and quickly pulled on the satin quilted burgundy robe which he immediately recognised as his mother’s. Rose watched all this with open amusement, much to his discomfort. Smiling she waved him to the bathroom and he returned from his shower he found her sitting at the dressing table.

“You may help me dress I have laid out my underwear on the chaise longue” she told him, “fetch them”

He could feel his heart beat faster, last evening came rushing back, the way she’d ordered him to his knees to perform an act that he had only heard spoken about by his own adolescent peer group none of whom had ever experienced it.  He’d remembered she said it was the way girls made love and she would only allow him to do it if he thought he was girl enough. Lust had engulfed him and he shamefully admitted he was girl enough. Would she impose herself on him again, would he find himself on his knees before her, kissing her in the most intimate place imaginable? Her words still rang in his ears

“Higher, a little more, that’s it, now a little faster” followed by low moans then she almost smothered him with her thighs as she writhed uncontrollably on the bed before relaxing and allowing him at last to breath air that did not contain the scent of a woman.

With all this still fresh in his memory his legs trembled slightly as he gathered the delicate panties, the more formidable girdle and bra and held them out for her. Taking the panties and holding them between thumb and forefinger she said

“You may not be in uniform but you are still my maid”

He knew what was required of him and dropped to his knees and held them out for her to step into and when she had he pulled them gently up her thighs until his face was in line with her vulva.

“Not just yet Elizabeth” she said as if reading his mind “now fetch my bra sweetie”.

She pulled the panties into place and almost reluctantly he got to his feet and gave her the bra, into which she placed her arms and unbidden he fastened it. Without her even asking for it he brought the girdle and once again silently assumed his position on his knees and held it open for her to step into. Like the panties he pulled the girdle up her thighs and struggled to position it.

“You’re becoming quite an accomplished lady’s maid” Rose purred “now zip me up like a good girl”

He said nothing but blushed furiously knowing she was right. He handed her the stockings which she eased up first her right then left leg and again without instruction he began fastening them to the girdle’s garters.

She sat on the bed, laid her satin slip over her lap and patted the bed indicating him to sit.

“You like the feeling of ladies underwear, don’t you Jack?” she said surprising him by using his masculine name for the first time and placed his hand on the slip moving it up and down rhythmically , quickly adding

“Don’t lie to me, your little thingy down there will tell the truth”

He had no option as his growing erection would make a liar of him.

“Yes I suppose so” he mumbled beetroot with shame.

“I thought so, that’s a good girl, nothing to be embarrassed about” she quietly said.

She took a pair of white satin panties from underneath her and held them to his nose waiting for him to inhale then she deftly removed them and slid her hand under his robe and stroked his erection with the panties.

“You liked making love to me like a girl Jack?”

“Yes” he stammered his excitement growing with each slow stroke.

“You like wearing girl’s clothes?” she continued now squeezing him gently as she stroked him

“Yes, yes” he struggled, his mind in turmoil and barely able to contain himself.

“Like to stay in them a little longer?” she whispered, increasing the pressure slightly.

“Y…es, y….es” his voice cracking.

“Good girl, now what’s your name” she breathed in his ear as she gently squeezed him bringing to the point of no return.

“Elizabeth” he moaned.

“Not Jack?”

“N….ooh, Elizabeth, my name is Elizabeth” he panted

“That’s a good girl” she said triumphantly and gave him a final squeeze and as his whole body convulsed he climaxed into the panties, collapsing on the bed he panted and gasped for air. She relaxed her grip and wiped his penis clean with the panties. He didn’t know how long he lay there eyes closed, totally spent physically and emotionally but when he opened his eyes he saw her busying herself laying out clothes on the bed beside him. He suddenly got a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’d better go and get dressed” he said sheepishly.

“Oh there’s no need to go anywhere……………….” she said and paused before adding the word that caused him to wince,

“Elizabeth”

“But you said I could dress in my own clothes” he answered, now more in hope than expectation.

She stood above him arms folded and gave him that look.

“Oh that was before you said you liked wearing girl’s clothes, liked making love as a girl and told me your name was Elizabeth” she shot back and continued in a clam confident voice

“Of course you’re perfectly free to dress in your own clothes but remember not only do I have your written and signed apology for your disgraceful behaviour I now have your mother’s panties soiled with your semen. While you were recuperating from your little accident I hid them both where you’ll never find them. So what’s it to be …………..Elizabeth?”

He bowed his head and his face gave the answer his voice could not.

“I thought so” Rose said “now let’s get you gussied up, take off your robe”

He slipped off the robe and was so defeated did not even attempt to cover himself. She quickly set to work fastening a garter belt around his waist, had him struggle into a new high waisted girdle, smoothed stockings up his hairless adolescent legs and attached them to the garters, fixed breast-forms to his chest with an adhesive and hooked him into his bra, had him put on an ivory satin slip before putting him into a tight knee length black pencil skirt with a cream silk blouse. A pair of three inch heels completed his outfit. She applied discreet make-up and lipstick and fastened a tight necklace around his neck with matching clip on earrings. After brushing his hair into an appropriate feminine style she led him to the mirror. By now his reflection was no major surprise except he looked even more feminine as a result of the breast forms which accentuated his small waist. Slipping on a matching jacket and handing him a purse she said

“Much better, now your mother insisted you leave the house today so time to go sweetie and as not to attract too much attention to yourself you may revert to addressing me as Rose.”

Still in shock from what had just happened and her continuing hold over him, Jack meekly followed her downstairs. He had a horrible feeling this would be just as nerve wracking as yesterday. Getting into the car proved to be a struggle as the skirt wouldn’t allow him to spread his legs as a male would usually do, he had to sit on the seat and swing his legs into the car just as he’d seen his mother do numerous times. Rose said nothing but gave him a knowing smile. She suggested they have brunch in a quite café just to acclimatise Jack to his surroundings dressed as a girl. As she expected and much to Jack’s relief the waitress detected nothing unusual about the two girls she served.

“I’d thought we’d do something girly for the day, visit a nail bar, perhaps get a makeover at a big department store, maybe get your hair done? What would you like to do?” Rose said widening her eyes almost daring him to refuse and when he hesitated she offered

“You might enjoy an hour or two in a hair salon I could do some shopping while you got to know the girls and the delights of having your hair done like a real girl.”

Jack began to panic that she might actually bring him to a hair salon and knew he had to pick the lesser evil. He thought that if he sounded somewhat enthusiastic he might avoid the nightmare scenario.

“The nail salon” he said and added quickly to please her “I’d like to have my nails done”

“Pity” she said feigning disappointment “I’d really love to see your hair in rollers and then spending time under a dryer with the other girls. But it’s your day, you’re the boss, the nail bar it is. Maybe another time.”

He felt horrified that he had heard himself say he’d like to have his nails done, whatever that was, but relieved that he would not be subjected to the horror of the hair salon. Rose seemed pleased he thought and at least that was something. After leaving the café Rose guided him through the mall stopping here and there window shopping remarking all the time that no one had stared and if he remembered his lessons from yesterday he would be fine. Despite her confidence in his ability to pass as a girl he still felt extremely uneasy. Entering the Rouge Nail and Beauty Salon and seeing the hive of female activity served only to heighten his anxiety, he stayed behind Rose as she spoke to the receptionist. They were seated at tables side by side with a variety of bottles, tubes, gels, brushes and other paraphernalia and were soon joined by two young women who greeted them warmly, Rose gave them instructions which sounded totally alien to Jack’s ears. The girl in front of Jack took his left hand and began working on his nails.

“They’re long enough  I should be able to get a decent shape” she said concentrating on the hand and not looking at him. Rose sitting next to him interjected,

“Oh she’s a real tomboy, this is her first visit to a salon, maybe a nice oval shape, probably too soon for a French manicure like yours.”

Jack was appalled by Rose referring to him as “she” and a “tomboy” but just gave a weak smile to keep up the charade. He looked at the talons on the assistant and could feel his hand shake in hers. The girl looked at Jack and gave him a friendly reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous Miss” she said “your first time can be daunting, I’ll take good care of you”

She proceeded to file his nails into a distinctly oval shape and began rubbing gel into them, soaking them in warm water and then used different implements on the cuticles then rubbing more gel and creams. All the while telling him what she was doing her voice was soothing and he began to relax despite what was happening to him. After she applied what she said was a base coat she asked him what colour he would like. Rose again interjected.

“Nothing too racy or obvious” she said “we don’t want her looking like a hooker, some understated perhaps but quite feminine.”

“This colour is just the thing it’s called Soft Rose” she said.

“I think that would be perfect” she beamed “what do you think Elizabeth?” 

Jack could only silently nod his acceptance and knowing that he would now have to wear nail polish colour bearing his tormentor’s name served only to further increase his humiliation. It was like he was being branded with her name, as if she was claiming him as her own.  

“Excellent choice Madam” the girl said and set to work applying Rose’s stamp on his nails.

Finally after what seemed to be an age the girl finished his nails which now were decidedly feminine and as he straightened his skirt after rising from the chair he could see the contrast of his newly coloured nails against the black of the skirt. Rose paid the receptionist and they left. Jack wondered how long more before he would be allowed back to the safety of the house but as he soon realised it would be for some time yet as Rose steered him through the mall gazing at various women’s stores as they went. They all seemed to blend into one until she stopped outside of That Dress Boutique. He got that now familiar queasiness in the pit of his stomach when he just knew something horrible was about to happen. She firmly guided him into the store where his senses were almost overloaded by the sheer femininity he encountered, racks of dresses,  gowns, shoes, lingerie and much more besides. After spending some time browsing through some racks of dresses they were approached by a saleslady offering assistance.

“I have a very special occasion coming up shortly and I’m looking for something suitable this young lady.” Rose said by way of explanation gesturing at Jack. He felt the blood drain from his face and had to hold on to a chair for support.

“Oh I’m sure we can find something special for her, right this way” she said.

Rose had to prise Jack’s hands from the chair and he was forcibly manoeuvred into following the assistant to a very large area at the back of the store where the fitting rooms and mirrored viewing area were situated. It was dotted with sofas, women and girls were trying on dresses. Jack did his best to remain calm as Rose and the woman chatted amicably about dress sizes and colours.

“If you take a seat I’ll bring some gowns that I think would suit” the assistant said

“Rose, please don’t make me do this, please I beg you.” Jack pleaded after she left.

“Elizabeth, we’re just two girls trying on dresses like everyone else here, you’ve been a good girl up to now so please don’t make it any worse for yourself ” Rose snapped leaving him in no doubt as to her intentions should he cause her further annoyance. He looked around and was amazed to see women in various states of undress none of them taking any notice of Rose or Jack.

He resigned himself to his fate which would soon become apparent. The saleslady appeared shortly after rolling a dress rack with gowns of various colours.

“Would you like some assistance” she asked, Rose thanked her and said they would be fine. She took a dress from the rack and beckoned Jack into the changing cubicle where she had him remove his dress and gave him a strapless knee length red satin dress with overlaying tulle. She then led him outside and had him parade up and down. As he was doing this the saleslady approached Rose and they had a brief conversation and the Rose approached him slightly agitated.

“It seems some idiot has set my car alarm off, I need to turn it off, I’ll be back shortly, stay calm remember all I’ve taught you and you’ll be fine as you can see no one suspects so just sit tight until I return.”

She left in a hurry and he sat on the sofa immobile with fright, eyes fixed on the floor for fear of making eye contact with any of the women. A pair of shapely legs perched on four inch heels appeared in his line of vision and a shiver went up his spine when he heard a familiar voice.

“Well, well if it isn’t my favourite servant girl all gussied up to look like a lady.”

He looked up to confirm his worst fears, Pamela was standing over him arms folded with a smirk on her face.

“I.. I .. I’m just waiting for Rose” he stammered unable to think of anything else.

“Yes I know you are, I’ve been watching you. You two seem inseparable, such a pity her car alarm went off, I wonder who could have done such a thing” she said with a sly grin and sitting herself next to him on the sofa. She continued

“Anyway I’m glad we’ve got this chance to get to know one another….alone” she purred placing her hand on his thigh and caressing it through the rich material of the dress.

“You’re quite a pretty little thing, but I don’t think that dress suits you why not try the pink one, much more girly” she said pointing to a dress on the rack.

“Maybe we should wait for Rose” he said

“I do hope you’re not going to argue with me, girl”

“I just think … “he began but she cut him short.

“You’re a maid, you don’t think, now get in there and take off that dress, I’ll be there in a moment” she spat.

“But what about Rose?” he said

 “Never mind Rose, now do as I say” she said in a tone that scared him

He knew what she was capable of, meekly he picked up the dress and entered the changing room and began to undress and was down to his slip when she entered with a mass of fabric in her arms.

“I’m not used to being spoken back to” she began “I think it’s time you learnt what happens to those who defy me, now come here this instant”

She sat down and motioned him towards her patting her knee.

“Get yourself over my knee if you don’t I can make life very difficult for you and Rose” she threatened.

Not having Rose to rely on and knowing what she was capable of he capitulated and submissively draped himself over her knee.

“This won’t be painful but it will teach you your place and not to question me in future” she said and began to spank him intending more to humiliate than hurt him.

It has the desired effect, she quickly had him step into a six layered black petticoat and as he stood there totally under her thumb she lifted the pink taffeta dress over his head at quickly zipped him in.

“Perfect” she said let’s see you walk in it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She led him outside and had him walk up and down, the rustling of the petticoats against the taffeta ringing in his ears as he walked. As he walked back to her she took his arm and looked at it intently.

“Now that’s a coincidence” she said “I’ve seen a birthmark like that in on someone else recently”

He could hardly believe his ears and said

“Lots of people have birthmarks”

“Yes they have” she said and examining the back of his neck “but what are the chances of two people having a similar one here as well”

Jack remained silent, eyes downcast.

“I knew there was something familiar about you, I just couldn’t put my finger on it, Rose certainly did quite a job on you. Only for this I would never have guessed, you really do make a good looking girl, I am going to have so much fun with you Jackie, after I get rid of Rose of course. Just wait until I tell the girls.”

“Elizabeth, his name is Elizabeth and you won’t be telling anyone” Rose’s calm voice came from behind them “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Elizabeth get changed back into your own clothes and then come back here” Rose said authoritatively “myself and Pamela here need to have a chat”

Jack almost ran for the changing room thinking his heart would explode. Everything was running through his brain, how could he live with the shame, his mother would surely be fired. He quickly struggled to get out of the dress and petticoat, after wearing that confection the skirt and blouse he came in seemed quite normal.

He left the safety of the changing room and returned to Rose and Pamela.

“Pamela has something to say to you Elizabeth” Rose said

“I’m sorry for offending you Elizabeth, it won’t happen again. No one else will hear of this.” she said in a low voice.

“You may go now Pamela” Rose said dismissing her as if she was a servant.

Jack was astonished and after she left bombarded Rose with questions.

“All in good time dear, didn’t I tell you not to be afraid, you’re Rose’s girl now and no one else’s. Now let’s get a coffee before we go home” Rose said.

He didn’t like the phrase “Rose’s girl” but was powerless to question it for it was abundantly clear that is exactly what he now was. He was in no doubt that he would prefer to be under Rose’s thumb than Pamela’s

Jack was still in shock at the events of the day particularly the change in Pamela’s attitude and was relieved when they reached home and Rose let him into the sanctuary of the house. Once inside Rose sat down on the sofa and motioned Jack to sit beside her.

“Should I get into my uniform Miss Rose” he said remembering that once inside he was to revert to his servant girl status.

“That won’t be necessary tonight Elizabeth” she said and picked up the bell and rang it.

“You rang Madam”

 

Jack looked around and saw Pamela standing there dressed in his housemaid’s uniform complete with cap and apron.

“As yes there you are girl, I think I’ll have some tea and cucumber sandwiches” Rose said matter of factly.

“Yes Madam and you Miss Elizabeth” she said meekly as she curtsied.

Jack was dumbfounded and noticed her blushing with shame and embarrassment, he could only mumble

“The same”

After she curtsied again he turned to Rose with a look of utter amazement and before he could ask she said

“You recall when we were cleaning her room yesterday, I found some, well shall we say various substances and some documents that the police would find very interesting. The authorities take a serious view on such matters, not only would she be expelled but it would probably also result in a custodial sentence. I seriously doubt she would risk divulging our little arrangement which now by the way includes her also.”

Jack suddenly felt conflicted, he felt a sigh of relief that his secret would not be exposed but also a feeling of dread with the reference to “our little arrangement.”

Pamela returned with the refreshments and after laying the try on the table curtsied and clasped her hands together on her apron eyes downcast awaiting further instructions.

“I think you have the makings of a good housemaid my girl” Rose said.

For the first time despite his imprisonment in feminine clothing Jack was becoming somewhat relaxed as he noticed that Pamela was visibly humiliated by her situation but Rose was in no mood for compassion.

“Your shoes seem to be slightly scuffed from today’s outing Elizabeth I think they require a touch up.”

He looked at her unsure of where this was going until she nodded in Pamela’s direction, then it suddenly dawned on him what she wanted of him and reaching on his experience of Rose’s role as a mistress in charge of a maid he said

“On your knees girl you may clean my shoes” growing into his role as Pamela’s superior.

Just as he had done on several occasions recently she dropped to her knees and began to clean his shoes.

The next few hours progressed with Pamela experiencing further humiliations at her tormentor’s hands. Eventually Rose told Pamela to put on her own clothes and report back to her. She told both of them to stand in front of her.

“Now my darlings, this is how it will be for the near future” she said revealing her plans for both of them.

“I want you both to become, well not quite friends but perhaps associates, colleagues if you will. Pamela needs to learn humility so Elizabeth here will instruct her in the duties of a housemaid, naturally dressed as a girl. Whereas Elizabeth needs to improve and refine his feminine traits so Pamela will supervise him with these. These sessions will alternate so if one of you is harsh on the other, the following session the aggrieved one can return the favour. Agreed?”

Not that they had any choice both nodded.

“Excellent you may now kiss to seal the arrangement” Rose cooed.

Reluctantly both came together and kissed and to both their surprise found it pleasurable and only stopped when Rose called a halt.

“That’s quite enough of that” she snapped

Pamela left shortly afterwards cursing herself for her stupidity and wondering where all this would lead but at least she would now have access to Jack. Rose put Jack to bed but only after he spent some time on his knees furthering his education in the extra-curricular duties of a lady’s maid.

 

Epilogue

Jack stretched his body, only half awake, what a horrible dream he thought gradually the sensations of the familiar fabric of his soft nightgown filtered into to his consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes horrified to find his mother and Rose standing over his bed.

“Good morning dear” his mother said gently.

Jack now very much awake and aware of his feminine nightwear began to stammer

“I … I can explain Mum”

“No need darling Rose has explained everything” she said.

“Everything?” he said

“Yes, you missed me so much you felt you could be closer to me by wearing my nightgown. I never thought you were so sensitive such an unusual trait in a boy. I should have been more attentive to your feelings. You obviously want to get in touch with your feminine side. Rose suggested we go shopping later and get you some beautiful nightgowns of your very own. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Jack looked at Rose standing behind his mother and knew what was expected.

“Yes mum” he said

“Rose also suggested it would be a good idea if you addressed me as Mummy from now on. What do you think?

“Yes Mummy” Jack said now firmly under another woman’s thumb.

“Thank you so much Rose, you obviously have a way with boys” his mother said.

“Oh it was nothing Madam” Rose replied with a sweet smile.