Christmas Dreams - 2004

by Abby Rhodes

 

I was close to tears. If I cried I was almost certain to get a half-dozen strokes on each cheek (not those cheeks, the ones inside my panties) with Mistress Julie's riding crop, but I couldn't stand it much longer. The skirt I was wearing was a traditional hobble skirt and I could only move a few inches at a time. As usual I looked fabulous. The whole outfit was made from pink latex and resembled my usual French Maid's uniform with all the right pieces of lace and a cap and lace choker, but the wide skirt and my lovely petticoats had disappeared, replaced by a long skirt fastened at the ankles by a padlock. A designer pink padlock, of course. The top, which was separate from the skirt, had a slightly flared hem.

I was incredibly busy as Christmas approached. Mistress was throwing another party for friends and people from the advertising agency where she worked. Do you remember last year's party? What a night that was!! I still have a copy of the picture Mistress took of me and her boss and his surprised expression when he found out I wasn't a girl. We still laugh about it. Mistress got to head up her own team and she won three awards this year for great ad campaigns. I like to think I helped her get there.

But right now I had a million things to do. The party was tomorrow night and I could get everything done if I could only move quickly, but it was taking too long as I hobbled as fast as I could. Sometimes my four-inch heels failed to co-operate and I went down, unable to move my legs to stop myself from falling. So far I hadn't hurt myself badly, but there were a few bruises on my backside.

In all the years I'd been a fulltime maid I couldn't remember being more frustrated. It wasn't just the party, it was the everyday chores as well because Mistress insists on a spotless house. So far my backside was white and virginal but I could see trouble ahead. Mistress unlocked my skirt every two hours when she was home so I could use the bathroom and she trusted me to unlock it and relock it if she was out. The outfit was in two pieces so the skirt could be locked at the waist as well as the ankles. I only had the key for the waist fastening, so my ankles didn't get any relief.

I was in the middle of preparing party finger food ahead of time and for a change I hardly had to move to work. (Occasionally I hopped across the room like a pink latex kangaroo but I'd been warned against that too!) I was making good progress but as I took a couple of dirty towels out to the laundry my heel caught on the edge of the carpet and I went down heavily. I burst into tears and literally wailed with frustration. When I finally dried my eyes I was startled to find Mistress Julie standing and watching me from the kitchen doorway.

"Have you fallen over again, Michelle? My word, you are clumsy. It's very fortunate I came home when I did. You're quite hopeless and I have to punish you for your slovenly attitude." Mistress looked really annoyed and I struggled to my feet again.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," I said, my voice trembling badly. "My heel caught and I couldn't save myself from falling. I'll try not to do it again."

"That would be wise, Michelle, but I'm still going to punish you. Turn around!" Mistress snapped the order and I shuffled in a half circle. She undid the lock at my waist and the skirt tumbled around my ankles.

"Panties down, Michelle and grab your ankles. I'd like to say this won't hurt a bit, but it will, of course. Quickly now."

I did as I was ordered and presented my backside to Mistress and I heard a swish as her crop travelled in a short arc to catch me hard on the right buttock. I yelped and Mistress told me to shut up or she'd give me a dozen lashes more than she planned. I took the hint and kept quiet but I thought this was unfair. I gritted my teeth and didn't make a sound even though the strokes were quite hard. I wasn't about to complain to Mistress Julie. We had a deal; I was a servant, and that was that.

Still, I wasn't happy.

"Get up, Michelle. Why you disgusting girl, you've got an erection. How many times have I told you that an erection is an improper reaction to punishment? That well-behaved maids simply don't get erections unless they're told to? Has all my training been for nothing? Perhaps it's time for me to get a new maid. Perhaps you should be replaced."

My blood froze. Mistress had never said anything like this before. I threw myself on the floor in front of her and clutched at her stiletto-heeled boots and kissed them.

"Please, Mistress. I'm sorry. Please beat me again if you wish. I apologise for my slovenliness and inability to keep my balance. I only wish to serve you. I adore you, Mistress. I promise I will not disappoint you again." I could feel tears starting. I continued to kiss her boots and she finally said to me, "I'll give you one last chance, Michelle. The internet is full of potential maids these days and it would be easy to replace you in less than a day.

"Right now we have a problem. You're starting to fall behind and I see that if you continue to wear the hobble skirt you will not finish in time, no matter how often I whip you or how hard. Go and put on a fresh French Maid uniform, one of the black ones would be suitable, and we'll discuss how you should be punished after the party. I might make you available to the men at the retirement home for oral sex at Christmas, or maybe a week being used by the football team for sexual relief would get the message across to you. I'm sure I can think of something suitably repulsive. What are you waiting for, Michelle? Get up, hold your skirt up and hobble off to your room. There's food to make."

I headed for the stairs and took off the latex outfit in my room. It wasn't easy getting my feet out through the hem of the skirt because Mistress had the key but I finally managed to free one foot and then the other. I quickly changed into a black uniform with the requisite white petticoats, apron and cap and raced downstairs after a quick make-up check.

Mistress had left the house again but there was a note on the table saying she'd be back at seven and wanted dinner ready for then. I could make that, but I stopped for a moment to heave a sigh of relief. The idea of the hobble skirt was great and it really served the purpose of restriction very well, but not if there was a time limit like I had now. My new uniform made me feel like I was free and easy and I did little dance steps to reinforce my freedom.

I got on with the food and by the time Mistress got home at seven her dinner was ready and I'd managed to finish the finger food and clean up the kitchen. I saw she had everything she needed and stood by for instructions. She had a look on her face that said she had something on her mind.

"I have a problem, Michelle,' she finally said. "Sit on the chair at the end of the table and you can give me your opinion when I've finished talking. Until then, shut up."

I sat down and shut up.

"Do you remember at last year's party we had the trouble with John Featherstone and Monica Daley? Well, John is fine and we have that nice picture of him and you to keep him that way. Incidentally, he's decided, believe it or not, that he isn't coming to the party this year. On the other hand, that bitch Monica Daley is coming."

Monica Daley had caused Mistress a fair bit of grief this last year. Monica was the Executive Secretary, John Featherstone's right-hand-woman and one of the powerbrokers down at the agency. Monica had never figured out why Featherstone had promoted Mistress at a time when he'd been saying he was thinking about firing her. Despite all the awards Mistress and her team won, and all the business she consequently brought in and the reflected glow on the agency, Monica saw Mistress as a threat to her power base and had been conducting a smear campaign behind Featherstone's back. It was personal!!

"This is getting personal, Michelle. We need a plan to spoil Monica's anti-Julie campaign and if we spoil her in the process, tough luck!"

I indicated I wanted to speak because I was currently in Shut Up mode.

"Yes, Michelle, you may speak."

"Thank you, Mistress. What do you know about Monica's sexual preferences?"

"Some of us think that Featherstone used to fuck her regularly and that she holds that over him to maintain her power base. You've met Mrs Featherstone. Would you cross her? I think she probably gets quite a few of the married men into the sack with her. Sex is a powerful blackmail tool, possibly the most powerful. Men can't keep their cocks in their trousers and the minute some woman wags her backside at them, their trousers just seem to fall off. It's pathetic really."

"Do you know if she has had sexual relations with anyone outside her circle, like pool boys, checkout operators or lovers hired by the hour?"

There was silence as Mistress ate for a while. I waited patiently.

"There are all sorts of rumours, Michelle. Monica has trouble keeping her panties on, assuming she wears any. The slut probably doesn't wear any, ready to lift her dress for anyone she fancies. I can't think of any specific random encounters and I think she probably gets as much sex as she wants without hiring someone. As far as I know she isn't into B & D, sodomy, ritual piercing or pornography either."

"Is she working on any campaigns, Mistress? I seem to remember she was starting to be involved in individual campaigns from time to time."

"Yes, she is. Not mine of course but she has helped out on a few recently, mainly with the aforementioned married men. They wouldn't dare tell her to go away, if they want to stay married that is. She's helping Bob on a beer campaign and Clarissa on a bridal program. What the fuck would she know about brides or beer? She should be doing stuff with vaginal fresheners."

I laughed, I couldn't help it, and Mistress looked firstly annoyed but then she smiled too and said, "One of the things that really pisses me off is that she's given Clarissa some good ideas instead of falling flat on her backside. I don't want her to be a success, I want her out."

"Is she seeing someone, Mistress? I think she was with someone she totally ignored at last year's party."

"I suspect her partners end up feeling used quite quickly. It's going to take a hell of a guy to keep her under control. I think I heard she was seeing a fireman. We'll find out tomorrow night. Is everything under control, Michelle? Will the food, drink and decorations be out and ready? Will my guests be amazed by my skills in the house?"

"Yes, Mistress. All I need to know is how to dress for the party."

"Of course, your clothes. I intend to have you dress in a baby's organza and lace outfit with full nappies and a dummy. You will probably also be wearing mittens so you will need to be very careful about spilling things. I wouldn't want to have to spank you in the middle of the party."

I felt myself go pale. Surely she wouldn't do that to me? I would have to dress in whatever she decided, but always hoped I would be at least presentable and not embarrassed. A Baby!!

"I have the costume upstairs, Michelle. Come and see it and put in your room for tomorrow." She stood up and I followed her upstairs to her bedroom. She opened her wardrobe then turned and said, "Close your eyes, Michelle."

I did as I was told and I heard rustling noises.

"Open your eyes, Michelle."

I did, and wondered what had happened. The outfit Mistress was holding wasn't a baby's outfit, it was a tulle and satin creation that looked like a ballet outfit and then I realised it was a fairy costume. There was a clear plastic bag attached to the hanger and I could see what looked like a tiara and something else inside.

"What do you think, Michelle? This year you're going to be the Christmas Fairy. There are shoes in here with a tiara. There's also a thong panty covered in sparkling sequins. It will be a little tight and uncomfortable, but that's how it is with us Mistresses. You can't spend the whole evening enjoying yourself, so the thong will remind you of your place. I can guarantee that you will look as gorgeous as you usually do, externally at least. There's a darling little set of gossamer wings as well. What should I wear, Michelle? I'm asking you because you made a brilliant choice last year."

I had already assumed she would wear the beautiful red silk satin dress she'd bought only a week ago and I said so. She looked wonderful in it. It was quite simply one of the best things she'd ever bought, a dream of a red silk column that skimmed her body as it fell to the floor. It displayed her cleavage and bared her shoulders, two of her best features. I explained my reasoning to her. He smiled and thanked me for the compliment. Seconds later she was taking off her clothes until she was naked in front of me. She took the red dress from its hanger and slid it on and it rippled its way to the floor.

Mistress admired herself in the mirror and then, "Oh my god. You can see my pubic hairs. She quickly put on a pair of bikini panties but you could see those too.

"It's your lucky night, Michelle. Tonight you're going to work on my pussy. I'm going to need it shaved and smooth so I can wear the dress. You're right, of course, it is a beautiful dress and I'd be silly not wear it. I'm sure that the slutty Monica could never top me, no matter what she wore."

"Should I get the equipment Mistress?"

"Yes, Michelle. I'll want my legs looking buff as well. I'm a very lucky girl. I have my own beauty therapist who, no matter what, will always see that I never have the tiniest moment of pain while I'm being depilated."

I got the message, even though I knew it already. I went and prepared a tray with a variety of razors and clippers and creams and lotions. I took it into the bedroom and found Mistress laying on the bed totally naked, waiting for me. I took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

Mistress has these legs that go up and up and I keep them beautiful with regular waxings and I oil them and run my velvet gloves over them. The end result is a pair of legs that would stand up to any scrutiny, smooth and silky. I did my best on the waxing and because the hairs had been done quite recently there weren't many to remove. Her pubic hair was something else. Mistress has had a Brazilian for a long time and I think it's true for me to say that I keep her little bush trimmed beautifully. But you know how it is with pubic hair; it's tough and doesn't care what you do to it. Wiry? Yes, that's a good term. Large-scale Velcro really.

Total removal was something I didn't usually do. I trimmed it with a pair of small scissors after I smoothed baby oil over the whole area and I was gratified that Mistress enjoyed my ministrations. I smoothed the oil into her pubes, gently massaging it in, and she finally said, "For Christ's sake, Michelle, lick my clit. You're turning me on and I know that my juices will glide the razor's path around my pussy."

She was right. Her juices would provide a slick path around her pussy. The more juice, the slicker she would be and the less chance of causing any pain. I started work with my tongue and it wasn't long before Mistress screamed and shuddered as her orgasm took her over. There were cries of, "fuck, fuck, fuck" as she forced my mouth hard against her pubic mound. Without wishing to boast, I can make any woman come in whatever time I wish. I take a long time over making Mistress come because I know what she likes and I know what she'll do with her riding crop if I don't do it right. Her friends Mandy and Samantha, on the other hand, can be controlled to the second, although they don't know they're being manipulated.

I spread Mistress's juices around her pussy and gently removed all her hair. In a mere minute her bald pussy was staring back at me and I hadn't caused a second of pain. I washed Mistress's pussy carefully and applied oil to it. She smiled as my skilled fingers did their work and inevitably she wanted me to perform cunnilingus on her again. I love making Mistress come and I set about my work with diligence. After she screamed she ordered me to lie on my back with my panties removed and my erection pointing at the ceiling. She lowered herself onto my penis and swallowed me up as she rode me to several more orgasms. I controlled myself as I have been trained to and when Mistress has finished I had a huge erection and needed relief, but none was forthcoming. I am only allowed to ejaculate when Mistress gives me permission.

Mistress wandered into the shower and I followed to towel her down afterwards. She tried on the red silk dress again and it now looked perfect. You could see a vague mound shape sometimes as she walked but the clear outline of pubic hair had gone. On the other hand her nipples were plain to see. Mistress decided to turn in and dismissed me. I cleaned up and put the depilation equipment away and went to bed with the condition of my engorged penis unresolved.

 

The next morning I woke up with very sticky thighs. I had a marvellous dream where I was king of a small country which was mainly populated by just me and an endless supply of beautiful and nubile maidens who liked to wrap their lips around my member and take me to paradise many times a day. All the girls wore babydoll nightgowns and the flimsiest of panties. They competed for my affections by trying to be the girl who could make me last the longest before I came all over them and they thought that my deposit on them was the highest accolade. Sometimes there were fights over whose turn it was and I watched as they struggled, babydolls flying up to show exquisite rumps and Brazilians by the score. I don't know why all those flimsy panties kept disappearing and reappearing. It was just one of those dreams.

I raced into the bathroom and showered because wet dreams (wouldn't that make a great story title) counted as unauthorised ejaculations.

I got Mistress her breakfast. Today was Christmas Eve and she had to work because it was a Friday but I knew the office would close down around lunchtime and the staff would get down to some serious eating and drinking before they dispersed for homes and families. Many would be here tonight for the party and I had to get some more food ready and do some last minute cleaning and tidying, but I was essentially ready to rock.

Mistress was distracted and I knew it was because she couldn't come up with a plan to deal with Monica. It was preying on her mind and needed to be resolved as soon as we could manage a scheme. I dried her after she showered and laid out her lingerie and office clothes. He dressed without really noticing what she was putting on.

Once she left the house I raced around getting things ready and by three in the afternoon I was all done. Better than last year! Mistress was due around four or so and I went to put on the Fairy Queen dress, something I'd been looking forward to all day.

It was just brilliant! I found my favourite white satin corset and put it on along with white stockings and pulled the thong covered with sequins up and set it around my hips. It didn't seem too bad although it was obviously at least one a size too small. I took the fairy dress out of my closet and found that under the dress was a voluminous tulle petticoat. I put that on and dropped the dress over my head. I zipped up and looked in the mirror. I looked wonderful! I did my hair and make-up and put the tiara on, followed by the white satin four-inch pumps.

Gorgeous? Doll-baby? Sexy as hell? All of those. I looked like a real fairy and I knew I would be the hit of the evening, especially since I would be the only person in a costume. I spent a long time admiring myself and I jumped when I heard the front door close. I looked at my watch and it was just after four. I raced downstairs to find Mistress with her friend Mandy.

Mandy and I had spent most of the last Christmas day in bed while she took advantage of my talent for staying erect until Mistress said otherwise. Mistress had been in the bed as well and had her share of my penis but Mandy was voracious when it came to sex and I'd been sore until almost New Year's Eve. That isn't a complaint. Mistress allowed me to ejaculate many times that night and I'd looked forward to Mandy's birthday, expecting to be a present for her, but that hadn't happened.

Tonight Mandy looked like dynamite. She had a red satin suit on but the skirt was around fourteen inches, if that, and the jacket exposed her cleavage and the top edge of a white satin camisole, but mostly cleavage.

"Good evening, Michelle," said Mandy. "I just love your costume. I don't think I've ever seen a prettier fairy. Did your Mistress make you wear the sequinned thong?"

"Yes, Mistress Mandy. It's quite uncomfortable."

"Maybe I can take it off later, Michelle, perhaps while you perform unspeakable acts on me after the party, or perhaps you'll find someone again this year who wants to take your panties off and fuck you."

I felt myself blush and the thong became even more uncomfortable as my erection sprang to life. It felt like some sort of gripping device had wrapped itself tightly around my shaft and I winced. I frantically tried to think of dead puppies and broccoli and finally it subsided a little. I was going to have to be careful tonight.

The party was due to start at five and there was little I could do in the meantime before I heated up some finger food and passed it around, so I poured champagne for Mistress and Mandy and almost immediately poured something for Mistress's other good friend Samantha, who burst through the door shouting bad words about her boyfriend. It seems he decided just that afternoon that Samantha wasn't the girl for him and called off the relationship.

For fifteen months Samantha had been blissfully happy and she was expecting to be engaged, if not married to Eden sometime in 2005. Now she wasn't just disappointed, she was angry. She made several short, sharp speeches about the duplicity of males in general and there were many four letter words involved. I had a little frisson of apprehension about her taking about her frustrations on me.

After a half hour she seemed to calm down but that might have been the five glasses of champagne she consumed in a very short time. She reverted to looking moody and resisted all the efforts Mistress and Mandy made to cheer her up.

It wasn't long after that we heard the doorbell ring as the first guest arrived. It was my job to open the door and greet guests and take their coats. Everyone was well wrapped up. It was quite cold and there was a chance of snow later. I hoped it would snow because that would mean a white Christmas.

The first people to arrive were those who were part of Mistress's team at the agency. She had handpicked the best people last January when Featherstone gave in to her demands and the result was a bunch of outgoing cheerful professionals who actually enjoyed going to work and loved parties. I knew some of them because they'd been to last year's party or had worked in the house over weekends when they were really busy.

They all loved my Fairy Queen outfit although several thought I was dressed in a wedding gown. I suppose I did look something like a bride, except for the wings.

More people arrived and I was busy serving food and drinks for hours. Then I found my path blocked by The Bitch – Monica Daley! Monica was dressed in what could best be described as a hunting outfit. The dress exposed a huge amount of cleavage (the Grand Canyon, Samantha said later) and clung to her like it had been pasted on. It was a sort of silver lame and well OTT and no, she didn't seem to be wearing any panties.

Monica looked at me quite hard, like I might have put something in the wine and she'd seen me, or she'd realised I was not really a girl. I felt uncomfortable under her stare, but she finally finished her inspection and said, "I know that isn't a wedding dress but it looks great on you. Do I know you?"

"My name is Michelle. I housekeep for Julie."

"Ah yes. Weren't you dressed like a Christmas Maid or something last year? I'm sure I remember that, although I had rather a lot to drink. Didn't I see John Featherstone molesting you some time during the party?"

"I'm really not sure, Monica. Several men, and a couple of women, fondled my backside but I don't specifically recall John doing it."

"Trust me, Michelle, he did."

"Well, I must thank him for the compliment next time I see him."

"You won't see him tonight. He decided not to come and I can't figure out why. Who's that attractive man over there talking to Julie?"

I looked across the room. "That's Jodie's boyfriend, Klaus. He's German and a really nice guy."

"He does look nice, Michelle. I think I'll go and have a talk with him."

'Bitch,' I thought.

 

The party mostly went quite well. Klaus spoiled Monica's evening by failing to respond to her charms and a girl called Amber threw up in a pot plant, otherwise we all had a good time.

But then came the bombshell. Monica appeared in front of me with a look on her face that spelled trouble. She must have had at least six glasses of champagne and appeared to have lost her senses, because she said to me, "You look really good in that dress, Michelle. I like the overall effect and I think you'd make a great model for the upcoming shoot I'm doing for Brides Of Spring. We have to have it all in the can by mid-January and I haven't been able to find a model I like enough to use in the campaign. Are you interested?"

I didn't know what to say. Could Monica be serious? Me, a model in a bridal gown? I was dubious but I found the idea exciting. What girl wouldn't want to be a bride? The ultimate costume, you might say. I had a vision of myself holding a spray of orchids and coyly hiding behind a veil while dressed in a huge, white satin and lace dress with enormous tulle petticoats that was three times the size of the Fairy Queen dress I had on right then. And white silk satin lingerie, or a white satin corset and matching panties with white stockings and white satin pumps! I got quite starry-eyed and it was Monica saying, 'Well?' that brought me back to earth.

"That's an interesting suggestion, Monica and it sounds lovely. Julie would have to okay it, though. Have a talk with her."

Monica looked disgruntled. Talking to Julie about anything at all wasn't what she wanted to do. She grunted and I passed on by with my tray full of champagne flutes while Monica went to talk to Clarissa, who was in charge of the Brides Of Spring project. Shortly afterwards, the two ladies stopped me and Clarissa looked me over from head to toe.

"I see what you mean, Monica. Sorry to interrupt you, Michelle. Monica has been telling me that you might suit our bridal campaign and I think she could be right. You have the kind of look our client wanted and just looking at you in that fairy costume I can tell you suit white and you have a slim, pretty figure. Would you be interested in doing some test shots in early January? We're on a bit of a deadline."

"Thank you for the compliment, Clarissa. As I told Monica, I think it's a lovely idea, but you need to check with Julie."

"Julie it is then. Come on Monica." Clarissa took Monica's hand and dragged her across the room to see Julie. This was Monica's way of not having to ask Julie for anything herself. She'd rather have eaten a live squid than asked Julie for a favour.

I saw the two women approach Julie and there was an animated discussion as the three kept glancing in my direction. I wondered what Julie would say but I suspected she'd tell them no because she wouldn't be helping Monica if she could avoid it.

Imagine my surprise when they all came toward me and Julie said she was more than happy for me to do the test shots. Clarissa said that she wanted me in the agency studio on the 5^th of January and to hold myself available for all the rest of that week. Whee, I thought. I couldn't wait!

They each took a glass of champagne and toasted me. Mistress's grin said that she possibly had a plan. It was a conspiratorial grin, not a humorous one.

 

I was excited.

 

I waited on people until the party broke up around eleven because most people had relatives they intended to visit. They piled into taxis saying things like, 'Shit, I should have left hours ago', and 'Now I'm in trouble' and 'Sorry, just remind me where I live.'

The last party-goer staggered out and just Mistress, Samantha and Mandy were left sitting around with champagne and plates of food. A few minutes later, Samantha, who was starting to lose her ability to focus, went upstairs and we didn't see her again until the next day. I started to clean up and once more there was a pair of panties behind the Christmas tree that didn't belong to any of us. "And certainly not Monica," said Mistress.

It took about forty minutes to clear all the trash and leftovers away and I went to see what else Mistress and Mandy might require of me.

"Sit down, Michelle," said Mistress. "I agreed to Clarissa and Monica's idea because I have a plan, but I'm sure you figured that out already. When she asked me if you could work for her it just hit me in a flash how I can fix her wagon once and for all. My only problem is that I must make sure Clarissa doesn't get any fallout. Plans are being refined in my head as we speak and it will all be clear in the morning. Right now I need you to do a couple of things, Michelle."

I stood up.

"Firstly go and make sure Samantha is okay, she's covered up and hasn't thrown up all over the bed and all that sort of stuff. Secondly, Mandy has asked if she can be involved with you in some hot and sweaty sex. I told her she could, but that I would have to be involved as well."

My thong grabbed me again. What kind of thong was this? It seemed to have a mind of its own. Was it a new kind of fabric that reacted to heat by shrinking? Wouldn't that be unnatural? I didn't have time to think about physics so I went to check on Samantha. She was sprawled across the bed on her back and naked apart from very nice stretch tulle Cosabella boyshorts in a pale pink. It was a little cool so I covered her up, turned the lights out and closed the door.

Mistress had moved into her bedroom. I could hear her and Mandy talking in the master (Mistress?) bedroom and I walked in. They were still fully dressed.

"Come in, Michelle, we were just talking about you. Is Samantha all right? She's going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning. I suspect that the boyfriend will be in for a series of mysterious fertiliser deliveries and strange emails from people thanking him for his communication and trying to convert him to exotic religions."

Mandy laughed. "I know I shouldn't feel sorry for him but I can't wait to see what she does. Earlier on she was talking about a radical sex-change operation with a plastic spoon."

I winced.

Mandy stood up and downed the last of her champagne. She took off her red satin jacket and slid her skirt off. She wasn't wearing a camisole, it was a white silk teddy that seemed to be slightly damp and clung to her like cling-film. She shucked that off as well and was left in just a garter belt and stockings. She put her index finger in the air and beckoned me toward her.

"Take off your dress, Michelle," said Mandy.

I glanced at Mistress and she nodded. I took off the dress and petticoats and put them on the bed.

"Not there, Michelle," said Mandy. "I want to try it on. Give me a hand."

That took me by surprise. I helped Mandy get the costume on and I'm sure she didn't look as good in it as I did but it was still a great costume. She preened herself in front of the mirror and did little dance steps and turned around quickly to watch the skirts and petticoats flare out in a cloud of tulle and net.

"It's just beautiful. Michelle, be a darling and climb under this dress and give me a little oral pleasure." Again I looked at Mistress and she nodded and said, "Whatever Mandy wants, Mandy can have tonight, Michelle. You've done a good job again with the party and you deserve to have some pleasure. Give Mandy the tonguing of the year."

"Thank you, Mistress," I said, and crawled towards Mandy, who lifted up her skirts and threw them over my head. It was darker than I thought it would be but that was no problem because my tongue does braille and I licked Mandy's pussy from bottom to top then slipped my tongue inside her and she shuddered with pleasure. I used my clever tongue to stimulate her clitoris with just the right pressure and movement. I enjoyed my work because Mandy has a wonderful musky smell that makes pleasuring her a pleasure, if you know what I mean. It wasn't long before she cried out and pressed my face hard against her pussy and I could feel the spasms rolling through her lower abdomen. Finally they stopped and I heard her sigh.

"Come out, Michelle, it's time for some serious fucking. Your Mistress and I want to be reamed out by that wonderful cock of yours that never stops being hard." Mandy lifted the dress up to help me get out.

From the couch, Mistress said, "That looked really weird with your head moving under the dress, Michelle. It looked like it had a life of its own. Go upstairs and get yourself ready for a night of debauchery. No, on second thoughts, get a chilled bottle of champagne and bring it upstairs with three glasses. We'll need to rinse our mouths out occasionally."

I did as I was asked and when I got to the bedroom Mistress was just shedding the red silk dress and Mandy was the same as before in her garter belt, stockings and shoes. They are two very sexy women.

"Panties off, Michelle and get on the bed and lie on your back. I need a good fuck. Watching Mandy get her rocks off was very erotic."

As I complied, Mistress straddled me and sank onto my penis. She was already very wet and slippery. She sat enjoying me and went into her usual routine of lifting herself up and down, speeding up as she approached her climax. She shouted 'yes, yes, yes,' as she came and I could feel her juices running down over my balls. I opened my eyes to see Mandy laying next to us and watching, her right hand gently manipulating her clit.

"Hey, can I try something, Julie? If I sit on Michelle and you stand astride her facing me I can lick you while I ride. Want to try?"

"Of course I do." Mistress got off me and Mandy plugged herself in on me. Mistress stood with her bush level with Mandy's tongue and I looked up at her backside. I could see drops falling from her still juicy pussy and I assumed they would be falling on the white satin corset I was still wearing. It was a fascinating viewpoint as Mistress squirmed with Mandy's ministrations and she pushed herself towards Mandy's tongue for more pressure on her clit. Mandy was managing to lick and move herself on me at the same time. They both came at more or less the same time and I could feel juice starting to pool under my buttocks. Mistress lay down again and Mandy asked if she could have another ride.

Mistress agreed and sat in front of Mandy facing me so I could lick her out at the same time.

That was how the evening and morning went. I licked them to orgasm time and time again and they rode me and Mistress gave me permission to have sex with Mandy in the missionary position, my first time since Mandy and I did it last Christmas. She then gave me permission to ejaculate and not a moment too soon. I was starting to turn blue! As soon she said, Ejaculate, Michelle," great ropes flew through the air as I pumped myself dry.

"My God, Michelle,' said Mandy. "How long have you been saving that up?"

"Michelle had a busy time last night, Mandy. I didn't let her come after she pleasured me, so there must have been a fair bit of pressure built up. I'm going to sleep now. Carry on fucking if you like, but try not to wake me."

Mistress rolled over and turned off the bedside light on her side. Mandy looked at me speculatively.

"Get some champagne, Michelle. Trickle it over my pussy and lick it off."

I did that and it was still fizzy. Mandy giggled as it trickled down her cleft and I took pleasure in cleaning it off her. She sat on me one more time then declared herself tired and we settled down. I'd been given permission to remain in the big bed with Mistress and Julie.

I woke up as someone sucked on my cock and I assumed it was Mandy. I couldn't tell what time it was but it was Christmas Day!! It's funny that no matter how late you stay up, it's still not Christmas Day until you wake up on the 25^th. I lay and enjoyed the sensation, then I noticed Mandy was snoring gently on my right. I opened my eyes wide and found it was Samantha who had her lips firmly fastened around me. She was kneeling between my legs and giving me a seriously good experience. I was hard as a rock and wondering how I was going to hold myself back when she whispered, "Jism is supposed to cure hangovers, Michelle. For Christ's sake just let go."

"It's all right, Michelle," came Mistress's voice. "You can come for Samantha."

Samantha went back to work and I felt my sap rising until it exploded in Samantha's mouth and I could hear her swallowing it all. She stopped finally and Mistress said, "Where the hell did you get that hangover story from, Samantha?"

"Well, I think it was that asshole Eden. It didn't seem to always work but sometimes it seemed to help." Her face changed expression immediately.

"It was fucking bullshit wasn't it? That bastard just wanted to get me to give him a blowjob. That's the lowest thing I've ever heard of. Julie, I want you to help me get back at him. I'm going to make that prick wish he was never born. How could I be so dumb?"

Mandy and Mistress were trying hard not to laugh but I could feel the bed shaking as Mistress rolled over to turn on the bedside light. She took a few moments to roll back and I'm sure it was to give her a chance to try and get her face straight. Mandy, on the other hand, burst out laughing and Samantha was unimpressed.

"Shut the fuck up, Mandy. Stop grinning, Julie." The face straightening exercise hadn't worked.

"Julie, can you make Michelle get food and coffee. I'm starving and I need to get my strength back so I can plan revenge. I also need a good fucking and I'd like Michelle to do that as well."

Mistress said I should get breakfast and I found my high heels and staggered downstairs pantieless. I knew that if I put panties on they would be stripped off quite soon anyway so I just didn't bother. I was back a quarter of an hour later with a mountain of food and two pots of coffee. I served it all up and Mistress told me I could join them in bed and eat my own breakfast.

I climbed in and ate.

Samantha was still pissed with Mandy because Mandy couldn't stop giggling about Eden's little trick. I didn't dare laugh because I'd almost certainly attract some dire punishment. As it was, I'd be having sex with Samantha soon anyway and I was looking forward to that. It was almost certain that Mandy and Mistress would want some more loving too.

That's how it turned out. By lunchtime I was starting to feel sore from so much sex and my balls were aching with the need for release. Finally the activity quietened down and I remembered it was Christmas Day. I asked Mistress when she wanted to eat and she suggested, once we established Mandy and Samantha would stay, that we would have Christmas dinner that night. In that case it was time to do something about turkey and ham and those other things that make Christmas dinner so fattening.

I got everything going and put more champagne in the refrigerator. I was sweaty and sticky and needed a shower and some panties but I wouldn't really have time until around five when there would be a break while the turkey finished cooking and everything else was ready.

I hadn't counted on Samantha creeping up behind me and stroking my bottom and then reaching around me to hold and stroke my penis. She manipulated it until it grew and then she turned, hitched up the chemise she was wearing and sat on the wooden kitchen unit behind where I was working to expose her pussy to me.

"Put it in there, Michelle. I may set a new world record for orgasms today. It will be in the Guinness Book of Records of course. Samantha Edge, Christmas Day 2004, eighty-four orgasms in one day."

Eighty-four?

I gave her the orgasm she wanted and while she sat smiling to herself I got on with it. Christmas Dinner that is. I hoped Samantha would wait until much later before she wanted her next orgasm. Eighty-four?

Mistress appeared and told me to go and change. She told me to wear the Fairy Queen outfit again and she even volunteered to watch the kitchen while I showered and changed. One of the things I love about Christmas is that the rules are relaxed just a little bit.

"What panties should I wear, Mistress?" I asked.

"No panties, Michelle. I believe the girls will need access to your cock throughout the evening."

"Yes, Mistress."

I went and had a quick shower and went to change into my wonderful Fairy Queen dress but I couldn't see it anywhere. Then I remembered Mandy had been wearing it last night. I scurried into Mistress's bedroom and found it hanging in her wardrobe. I put it on over my white satin corset and raced back to my room to find my white satin pumps. With fresh stockings on and redone make-up I felt like a million bucks again.

Downstairs I took over the kitchen again and I was left in peace until I served up Christmas dinner. But what was this? While I'd been working hard, a multitude of gift-wrapped boxes had appeared under the Christmas tree. It was a sight to make you believe in Santa Claus, which of course I do. I delivered the food and Mistress allowed me to sit and share the meal. All the women had short satin robes on and very little else.

I'm a wonderful cook and the meal was wonderful too. We ate and drank until we were full and Mistress said we should open presents immediately. I asked if I could go and get the presents I'd bought for her and she said, yes, but hurry back.

I raced upstairs and got the six beautifully wrapped boxes and when I returned the women were sitting side by side on the couch facing the fire and the tree. The short robes had fallen open and they were showing me two brazilians and one completely naked pubic mound.

"Pass the gifts out, Michelle," said Mistress. "Let's see what we've got."

I fished around and found them a present each. They set on the wrapping paper like mad things and there were lots of oohs and aahs.

Around this house, there's a lot of lingerie given as presents and this year was no exception. As boxes were opened, mainly by Mistress and me, wisps of chiffon and satin appeared and Mandy and Samantha, who didn't have as many presents, didn't hesitate to examine everyone else's presents very closely and try on things they liked the look of.

It took a while but finally everything was opened and inspected and tried on, sometimes by everyone. I had some adorable gifts and I was looking at a particularly nice silk chemise Mistress had given me when I heard a buzzing noise. I looked up to see Samantha trying the controls on a large cock-shaped dildo. The dildo was moving in tight circles and Samantha had no hesitation in trying it out immediately.

"Go for it, Samantha," said Mandy. "They're a hundred percent reliable and don't lie to you. I knew you'd like this one. Here, I got you some oil as well." Mandy opened a bottle of baby oil and trickled it over the dildo, which immediately disappeared from sight. Within moments the noises on the couch got louder.

Samantha was open-mouthed with the pleasure of it all and as soon as she came twice offered it to Mistress and Mandy, both of whom tried it and liked it.

I saw Mistress eyeing me speculatively and I wondered if she had me in mind for a turn with the dildo. Mistress and I had played dildo games before and I quite enjoyed the sensation of being penetrated by such objects. I found it reinforced my subjective nature and confirmed my status as a servant to my Mistress. She told me to lift up my dress and petticoats and bend over with my butt in the air.

This was a big dildo and I thought it might hurt me. As it turned out, it easily slid inside me on a tide of the juices from the three women and filled me up but not uncomfortably. When it was turned on it was kind of magic. It seemed to hit the right spot immediately and my erection grew harder and harder. I thought I was going to come when Mistress said very sternly, "NO, Michelle. Keep that jism in. if you ejaculate I'll keep my promise to send you the old men's retirement home for the night."

That worked. I was still as hard as steel but the need to come mysteriously disappeared.

"God, look at that, girls," said Samantha. "She's nearly as big as the dildo. I can't help myself." The dildo was removed and Samantha told me to get on my back. As usual she rode me and rode me until she satisfied herself. And so did Mandy and Mistress.

That was how it went for the rest of the evening and in fact for the rest of the night. Samantha didn't make the Guinness Book of Records but had a good try at the record. Mandy passed out at around midnight along with Mistress Julie, and Samantha finally said she'd had enough. Sometimes it takes a long time for Samantha to have enough.

I slept in my own room and woke at eight to get breakfast. The girls were all in the same bed and I was in a standard French Maid's uniform, this one a pale green.

Mistress said, "We need to talk about this wedding promotion, Michelle. Pull up a chair and listen to my plan. Now, on the 5^th of January they're doing test shots only. What we have to do is make sure you look perfect. Every little detail has to be just right to make sure you get accepted. That means that from now until the 5^th you get made over in every possible way, without surgery, of course. By the time we finish with you you'll be so pretty and buffed the incredibly slutty Monica will find you irresistible.

"Samantha, Mandy, I want your help on this. Michelle has to be totally smooth and turn up on the day wearing a set of wedding lingerie that will knock them out. We have ten days to do it and I want to start now. Take off all your clothes and do a twirl for us. Mandy, take notes."

Mistress passed a small pad and a pencil over to Mandy as I stripped off. I turned around several times and Mistress started to dictate.

"General body, possibly, mmm, a little thin. Maybe too much sex and not enough food. Waistline good, but she needs slightly bigger hips. You know, we have to think about getting you some breast implants one day, Michelle. Legs, good shape but will need to be stripped of even minute follicles. Write down nails, finger and toe. Book her in with Roz for the 4^th. Hair. I think a new do, also on the 4^th. Something girly but professional. All brides look girly whether they want to or not. Shouldn't be a short do, keep a curl in it. No, wavy. Eyebrows, eyelashes, check face in case there's a stray hair left over from the laser treatment.

"Note about lingerie. Might need a good gaff for this job. See how it goes. It might only need really tight stretch satin panties, but we can't take any chances. They'll have dressers on standby for shots in actual wedding dresses. Can you do lingerie, Mandy? If Samantha goes lingerie shopping with Michelle there'll be juice all over the changing rooms."

"Party-pooper," from Samantha.

"You know it's true, Samantha. Sometimes you're more of a sex maniac than slutty Monica."

"I'll have you know, Julie, that on a good night I can out-slut Monica or actually most people. I like sex. There's nothing like a good fuck or three to improve my disposition. Slutty isn't necessarily a bad word you know."

"You're still not going, or more accurately coming, in the changing room with Michelle, so just forget it."

Samantha mumbled. They stared at me some more and Mistress told me to get dressed again and get more coffee. The rest of that day I often found her looking closely at me and obviously wondering what else I needed to have done.

 

For ten days I was measured and weighed and fed well, all the while doing exercises to keep my waistline trim. I'm not sure if my hips expanded more than a half inch, but I enjoyed the attention. Mandy and I went shopping and found gorgeous white silk lingerie for me. We searched for and found a very tight pair of white satin panties that kept my penis well under control and although they were kind of uncomfortable I was looking forward to wearing them on the 5^th of January.

On the 4^th Mistress took me in to Roz's salon where we usually go and I was done over from top to toe. It was bliss. I was waxed, shined and painted and I just lay there and enjoyed every second of the attention. Roz, who owns the place, knows me well and I have no secrets from her. In fact, we're quite good friends. Mistress brought me in to the salon the day after we agreed I was going to be her servant and introduced me. Roz is still looking for someone to be her sex slave, she says, but so far unsuccessfully.

I left the salon looking fabulous. Mistress had consulted with Roz on every step of the process and I just knew I'd get the job.

The next day I arrived five minutes ahead of the appointed time and I was shown up to the test studio where Clarrissa was waiting for me. She greeted me cheerfully and had a good look at me.

"You look great, Michelle," she said. "I'll get your make-up done and we'll do some shots and then we'll try a few gowns on you and do some more shots. Should take a couple of hours. Chen!"

Chen was the make-up artist and she transformed me, making me look even better than Roz had. I'd worn a good dress for the occasion, along with a thick woollen coat because it was so cold outside. The dress was made from black silk jersey that came to my knees. I'd thought about a shirt and jeans but I wanted to make an impression and Mistress agreed I should look good when I arrived.

"You look even better now, Michelle. Bob, get going on the test shots. Let's see how she looks on film." Clarissa led me over to a seat with a white screen in the background and sat me down."

"Hey, you're really pretty, Michelle," said Bob. "Look at me, again, smile, turn to your left your right, push your head forward." This went on for twenty minutes and Bob finally stopped and passed the film over to his assistant. "Okay, Clarissa, we're ready for the dresses."

There was a long rack over the side of the studio with at least ten dresses hanging up, a veritable explosion of silk, satin, chiffon and tulle.

There was a screen to change behind. I striped and let Clarissa get a look at my silk lingerie. She smiled and picked out the first gown, a confection in pale ivory silk that had some drapery here and there but was essentially a form-fitting sheath If this wasn't going to test the white satin panties, nothing would. I found the dress unbelievably sexy to wear and I had to think of dead kittens just for a moment but once I'd been zipped up I was pleased to note there were no tell-tale bulges. I slipped on a pair of ivory satin high-heeled sandals Clarissa gave me and headed for the photographer.

"Wow," was all he said before he started giving instructions. Love it? I adored it. Talk about the centre of attention, and then five more gowns to try on. They ranged from the short and sexy to massive white confections with a ton of petticoats.

Bob finally said 'Enough' and I went and changed back into my own clothes and wandered over to talk to Clarissa.

"It looks good, Michelle. You enhance the dresses and that's what we wanted. We'll get the pictures developed and give you a call, probably tomorrow. You may recall that this job is now really urgent so we won't be mucking around. If we're happy we'll start shooting on the 7^th and probably take two days for the whole shoot. That okay with you?"

I confirmed it was.

"Good, now there's only that fucking Monica to deal with. I was hoping she'd explode form eating too much at Christmas but it seems she didn't. Interfering cow! Sorry, Michelle, that's not your problem, it's mine. Go on home and thanks for your work today. You know, you could probably model professionally."

I could? I wanted to!

Clarissa had given me the clue that Mistress Julie wanted. She'd had enough of Monica at last and the rest of the plan could be put in motion.

 

It turned out that the test pictures showed I was exactly right for the whole campaign and Clarissa called by to talk to Mistress Julie and Mistress took the opportunity to put the last piece of the plan into place. She told Clarissa that whatever happened she had to get Monica to sign off on the whole process, preferably in writing but, if possible, verbally in front of a big crowd. Mistress promised that if Clarissa did this, Monica would be out of her hair quite soon.

 

So on the 7^th I turned up at the studio and Clarissa, Bob, Chen and I went to work for two whole twelve-hour days. I was tired but excited when it was all over and Mistress threw a party to celebrate.

 

That was when the final step in her plan got put in place. Monica was invited along with all the technical crew and that was the day the campaign had been set in concrete. All the pictures had been chosen and the images and text despatched to magazines and papers where space had been booked for the Brides of Spring campaign. Many of the pictures wouldn't appear until March or April but there was a series of spreads in bridal magazines ahead of that. Brides of Spring were more than satisfied with the job the agency had done and several of their executives and designers were at the party as well.

I was in the fortunate position of being one of the stars of that particular gathering and I was allowed to wear a beautiful, black, silk chiffon evening gown. Mistress paddled me thoroughly before she allowed me to put it on, just to reinforce my position so I wouldn't get any ideas about myself or forget who was Mistress.

The party was effectively a launch party I suppose and the guests were all dressed up and gorgeous and Monica performed her part beautifully. She got louder and drunker as the night went on and claimed in a loud voice that it was all her idea, the whole thing and that I was her idea and the photographer, make-up and stylists were her idea. I could see Clarissa, who didn't know the whole story, glancing at Mistress from time to time for reassurance.

Mistress let Monica run on and finally stood up and proposed a toast to her and said what a great job she'd done and thanked her specially for choosing me for the campaign model. Monica looked very pleased with herself and cheered loudly, just before she went up to the bathroom and passed out. Mistress told Clarissa that very soon Monica Daley would no longer be a problem. Clarissa looked dubious but only said, "I hope so, Julie."

Come April, there I was. Much, much larger than life on billboards looking down on Times Square and Sepulveda Boulevard in LA and many, many places in between. Brides of Spring were delighted and their business was flourishing. They wanted me back for the next campaign and Mistress was considering their request. A week after the billboards went up, Monica Daley was invited around for drinks with Mistress Julie, Samantha, Mandy and me. She didn't know it was just us; she thought it was another party to celebrate her success.

After a couple of drinks, Mistress gave Monica a package about two feet square and said it was a souvenir of the campaign. Monica undid the pretty paper and ribbons and found a photograph of me. I had on the wedding dress I was wearing on billboards across America except that this time I had the skirts hitched up to show a giant erection framed by silk and tulle and white stockings. Mistress had bought the gown from the studio shoot and we'd had shots done in the studio where Mistress naturally had access. They were just shots done on a digital camera but we'd picked out the best and this was it.

"What the hell is this?" asked Monica. "Is this a joke? If it is it sure as hell isn't funny."

"What it is, Monica," said Mistress, "is the evidence that says you hired a male for the Brides of Spring campaign and put that male up on billboards all over America, as well as in magazines and newspapers. I'd say that you've made Brides of Spring look like total fools. If they knew that is."

Monica looked hard at me. "This is trick photography. Michelle can't possibly be a male. She's a gorgeous woman."

That was my cue to raise the hem of the dress I was wearing to show her that I was indeed a biological male and one without panties as well.

"Holy Jesus fucking Christ. You bitch. What did you do this for? What did I do that was so terrible?"

"To put it simply, you're an arrogant, stupid, interfering slut who has no morals and no brains to speak of. You've fucked up a whole lot of lives and now it's my turn to fuck up yiours. I'm sending a copy of this picture to Brides of Spring, who I'm sure will remember how you claimed it was all your idea."

Monica went white.

"You wouldn't. Yes, you would, you bitch. What do you want?"

"Just your resignation, Monica. As simple as that. Resign and fuck off."

"Do you think you can get away with this? Wait until I tell John Featherstone about this."

"You'd actually tell him you've hired a crossdresser for the campaign and that the proof is in the mail to Brides of spring? My word, you are brave."

Now Monica turned purple. There wa s a lot of very bad language and she stormed out the door. We could hear her still shouting inside her car as she sped off.

"That went very well, I thought," said Julie. "I think a round of drinks is called for, Michelle."

I'd put champagne on ice just for the occasion.

 

Three days later, Clarissa called up and said in a disbelieving tone that Monica had resigned and asked Julie what happened. Monica declined to tell her the whole story. She just said that it was a matter of careful planning, like any good campaign, and by the way she wanted to confirm that I would be available for the next campaign. Yes!!

She put down the telephone and smiled at me.

"How do you feel about implants, Michelle? Would you like a nice pair of breasts?"

  

  

  

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