Maid to Server

by

Jean M. Chambers

  

I met Brenda on a Friday in the Cafeteria at work. She was a few years older than me, but instantly caught my interest. Her whole presence exuded class. The fuchsia colored skirt suit she wore was bright, but obviously expensive. To say she was attractive was an understatement. To my surprise she asked if she could sit at my table. Of course I accepted.

Over lunch she told me the company owner was throwing a Halloween costume party the next night and asked me if I'd like to go. I told her I'd love to, but didn't have a costume. She smiled and said it wouldn't be a problem. Brenda handed me an address and told me to be there around noon the next day. I disliked Halloween parties and had just met Brenda, but she was so pretty, and like the stud I was, I had to have her. She would be my latest conquest. Women were beneath me. I figured women were meant for one thing. To please men. I managed to dig up dirt on every one that met my standards and could take them at any time, any where. That was the standard deal I made with them for not making the dirt I had on them public knowledge. They were mine for the taking. All I had to do was tell them when and where.

Shauna, Tracy, Page, and Cheryl my favorites. They all looked like models with bodies that drew second looks. Then there was Lee, who was physically strong and trained in the martial arts,. She was Chinese American and had jet black hair cut in a page like a china doll.. Her smile and looks could kill. Any man would pay dearly to sleep with her for just one night. She was my most favorite of all. There was something sensual about dominating a gorgeous looking woman that I knew could kick my but, physically. I liked to make out with them in the ladies room. The stalls were private and there were no men. The women I blackmailed didn't like it at all, but they really didn't have much of a choice. The managers were my favorite. I even forced one that I really disliked into prostitution. The extra money they made for me came in handy.

 

The next day I found the address she had given me. I was a little confused when I saw it was a beauty salon and walked a half a block in either direction looking for a costume shop. There wasn't one. I waited by the curb in front of the Salon for Brenda to show up. She arrived fifteen minutes later, flashed me her great smile and led me into the salon by the hand. It smelled like perm solution and hair spray. No one noticed us. I followed her to the back where Brenda introduced me to Sally, the owner. Sally looked me up and down, studied my face, and then grinned at Brenda.

"Piece of cake." she said to Brenda, as if I wasn't present.

"Great!" Brenda beamed, "I'll go pick up his outfit and be back in an hour.

She was gone in a flash. Sally gently pushed me into a small changing room.

"There's a gown on hook. Be a doll and change into it, won't you? You can leave your clothes on the chair. All of them. Including your BVDs. You won't need them for your costume"

I asked about the costume Brenda was picking up for me. She said she hadn't seen it and pulled the little room's door closed. I was hesitant about wearing nothing but the gown. Then I reconsidered. If it would help me get Brenda into bed it would be worth it. I changed quickly, leaving my clothes on the chair, as instructed.

 

When I came out Sally took me into another small room she said was used for exclusive clients. I felt special. I sat down in reclining salon chair. A couple of the other beauticians came in to help Sally get me ready. The hovered over me like bees, working quickly. I mildly objected to things they were doing a few times. They just kept on working and told me to relax and have some fun. Brenda had stuck her head in the door when she got back, but disappeared again before I could speak to her. I felt like a different person by the time they had finished with me over an hour later. My legs and arms had been shaved clean. One inch long, red nails adorned my fingers. They were super glossy and felt weird. My toenails had been painted to match. Sally had personally washed, cut, and totally re-styled my hair. And then there was the makeup that had been carefully applied. While I couldn't see it, I could feel and smell it. My lashes were dark black and shaded my vision slightly. The lipstick on my lips felt slick and gooey. It tasted sweet, like bubble gum.

The girls insisted on net letting me see myself while they were working on me. They said Brenda wanted me to get the full impact of my costume and makeup, together, when they were finished. I suspected what they were up to shortly after they had started shaving my legs and doing my nails. Not wanting to a bad sport and spoil my chances with Brenda, I went along with them, even though the thought of what they were doing to me went directly against my male ego. Sally led me back to the small dressing room and left me alone to get dressed. My clothes were gone.

"Very funny!" I said aloud to no one in particular, "Where's my costume?"

"On the door hook, silly." Brenda's voice came from outside the door, "Now hurry up and get dressed. It's getting late!"

Several stifled giggles came from the hall. I turned around and found a short black dress with puffy sleeves, flared skirt, and white ruffled trim hanging from a hook on the back of the door. A pair of six inch, high heeled, black patent pumps lay on the floor beside the door. Laying next to the shoes was a neatly folded pile of lingerie. The small pile consisted of a black satin corset with attached garters, black stockings, and black satin panties.

 

It was a French Maid's outfit, something I would never dream of wearing. I was a man. The last thing I wanted was for another man to treat me like a woman or try to come on to me. I knew the way I currently looked, after the makeover, that if I put on the outfit everyone would think I was a woman. I started to exclaim that the game was up and someone had better get me my own clothes. Then I thought about it. I'd beat them at their own game. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me embarrassed. I'd dress in the outfit and not bat an eye. It wouldn't be so much fun for them if they thought it didn't bother me. I slipped into the panties. They felt diminutive compared with my cotton briefs. Then I adjusted the matching corset's lacing and slipped my arms into the straps. One by one I fastened the front hooks. The garters dangled against my thighs as I worked. Every hook tightened the corset a little more, squeezing me in. I had to suck in my stomach and exhale to fasten the middle hooks. It was very tight about the waist and held me in an hour glass shape when I was done. I imagined that wearing a corset all day would be a lesson in torture.

I sat down on the chair to pull on the pair of sheer, pink stockings, but found I couldn't bend at the waist to reach my feet because of the corset's steel boning. With a little effort I managed to pull the stockings on and hook them to the garters. I felt ridiculous, and at the same time, aroused by the fact that I was wearing such a sensual outfit. A taboo for men. I ran my hands down the Basque, then my legs and was surprised to find my heart starting to pound with excitement. My mind screamed that it wasn't right. I wanted to see what I looked like wearing the lace, satin and nylon, but the small dressing room was conveniently devoid of any mirrors. The little black dress on the hook caught my eye. The manly part of me wanted to shrink away from it, but another part, beckoned me to put it on. There would be no turning back once I did. I'd be dressed as a French Maid. Then again, I really didn't have another choice. The outfit was the only thing I had to wear. I was conveniently trapped in a women's hair and nail salon dressing room, made up like a woman, and no other clothes to wear.

I took the little black dress down from the hook. My palms were sweating as I unzipped it and removed the hanger. I should have never gone this far. One more piece of clothing and I would be a French Maid. The thought revolted me, but excited me at the same time. Then I heard a giggle from outside the dressing room door again. Someone knocked.

"Do you need help, honey?" a woman called.

"No. Thanks. I'm fine. I'll be out in a moment." I called back, noticing how my voice broke with nervous tension.

I was angry at myself for being tricked into such a situation. There was nothing left to do but finish getting dressed. I told myself it was just a costume party and stepped into the dress. It molded itself to my body as I pulled the zipper up the back. It would have never fit if not for the corset. The bodice was cut wide and low, framed with white ruffles, to show off a woman's cleavage. Surprisingly, my feet slipped snugly into the black patent pumps. I felt as if I were on stilts as I took a few steps back and forth across the small room.

 

Another knock sounded on the door.

"Come on Steve." Begged Brenda, "We're going to be late!"

"Okay! Okay!" I muttered, "I've never dressed as a Maid before, you know."

I sucked in my breath, held it, and opened the door. Brenda and the girls who did my nails and makeup crowded the doorway. They stared at me, jaws slowly dropping. They slowly took me in from face to toe, then back up to my face.

"What?" I cried through clenched teeth, "I look ridiculous, don't I? Don't I? I knew it! I…"

"You look… awesome." she said in earnest, eyes wide with approval.

All of the beauticians were smiling and stretching their necks over Brenda's shoulder to see me. I felt stupid standing there in the little dress, stockings, and heels.

 

Brenda and one of the girls grabbed my hands and pulled me down the hall.

"Well I feel stupid in this get up. The dress is so skimpy! The corset is crushing me, the heels are too high, and I feel naked." I ranted as I stumbled along behind them in the heels. "I would never have agreed to this if I had known what you planned. If you hadn't been so damned pretty, I…" They pushed me in front of a full length mirror and stepped aside so I could see my self.

I didn't recognize the Woman in front of me. She was hot! She made, me, hot! Her short, flared skirt and high heeled pumps made her legs look long and thin. A glimpse of her stocking tops was visible just beneath the skirts white, ruffled trim. The flared skirt made her waist look tiny. Then I stared into her eyes. Her short, platinum blonde hair framed perfectly made up face like a flower.

"Oh my God!" I mumbled, "She's so… I mean I… I'm so damned pretty!"

The Maid's lips moved in sync with my voice. A chill ran down my spine.

Sally hadn't just washed, cut, and styled my hair into a feminine, punk hairdo. She had dyed it platinum blonde to boot. My thick, masculine eyebrows had been reshaped into feminine, black, pencil thin arches. With the makeup, you'd never guess I was a man. Facially, I looked like a Pixie. As I stared in disbelief and horror at my reflection, I heard Sally comment about finishing touches. Simultaneous popping sounds and stinging in both ear lobes snapped me out of my stupor. Two of the girls had pierced my ears. I watched them in the mirror as they attached two large, gold hoop earrings to the platinum blonde's ears. One of the girls pinned a small doily-like hair piece to the top of the blonde's head while another hooked a black choker around her neck. Sally's voice sounded miles away.

"You'll want to stop back every few weeks to have your color touched up if you don't want your roots showing, and your nails will need to be filled every few weeks. You ladies better get moving now, before you're late for your party."

Brenda shoved a small, clutch under my arm and gently pushed me towards the salon's door.

 

She guided me to her car. A man in a Van honked as he passed. I instinctively tugged at the hem of the skirt to pull it down, flushing with embarrassment. We made the thirty minute ride to a large estate just outside of town in relative silence as I tried to comprehend the predicament I found myself in. A passing truck driver sounded his horn while passing. Brenda smiled as I again tugged my skirt to cover the tops of my stockings.

"Don't worry." she patted my bare thigh, "You look wonderful. You don't even need to speak to anyone. No one will expect you to. Just smile a lot and look pretty. We'll have a great time fooling everybody."

Brenda swung the car off the main road and through an automatic wrought iron gate. The narrow lane led to a large, white house with many cars in front. Brenda stopped directly in front of the house. She got out of the car and started towards the mansion's entrance. When she realized I wasn't following her she stopped and turned.

"Well dear? Come on!"

She waited patiently as I climbed out of the car and minced as quickly as I could in the tall heels to catch up with her.

Our shoes clicked loudly on the stone walkway. I found it difficult to walk on the rough stone in the high heels and watched with envy as Brenda glided over it with practiced ease. Brenda didn't knock. She walked in as if she owned the place. An elderly woman in a suit met us in the foyer.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Windgrave. All of your guests have arrived and are in the ballroom."

My stomach did flip flops when I heard the woman's words. She did own the place. Worse! I didn't have to pretend she was my boss because, she actually was, my boss. She was the owner and CEO of Windgrave Enterprises. My mouth dropped open as I placed the name and her face with a photo I had seen in one of the company's brochure's.

"Thank you, Carol. This," Brenda waved her hand towards me, "is Marie, the extra help I promised I would get for you. Please show her what you need her to do."

The older woman looked me up and down like a piece of meat as I watched Brenda walk away. Her words confused me. Then I saw two young women pass through the lobby carrying serving trays. They were dressed exactly like me, in French Maid outfits. Both were voluptuous. Facially, they both had that perky, Bambi look and could have passed as sisters if not twins. Maybe they were. Then it hit me. I felt as if a weight had been dropped on me. Anger swelled up inside of me. Yes, I was at a Halloween party. And, yes, I was wearing a costume. Except, it wasn't a costume party. Brenda needed extra help to wait on the guests. She had tricked me into being that help. Standing there in the outfit, dressed as one of her Maids, I realized it was much too late for regrets.

I followed Carol to the kitchen where a Chef and several other people were preparing food and drinks. She told me my job, as were the other Maid's, was to tend to the guests. I was to mingle with the guests, serving them food and drinks. She handed me a small tray laden with finger food and guided me out of the kitchen and into a small ball room where the party was. I thought for sure someone would realize I wasn't really a Maid or, at least, I wasn't even female. No one did. They took me for what I looked like. At first I was shy and embarrassed. Wearing such a short outfit which completely exposed my legs and barely covered my privates wasn't something I was used to or had ever done. The other Maid's seemed comfortable with it though. Then again, they were girls, and used to showing their legs. Once I felt a hand caress my bum beneath my skirt. It surprised me when I turned and found a fairly pretty woman standing close behind me, smiling with a suggestive glint in her eye. I would have expected a man to grab me, not another woman. I smiled and moved quickly away from her. Another time, a middle aged Texan had cornered me in the foyer, against the wall behind a door. He had obviously been drinking too much. He had his arms wrapped around my waist was pulling our loins together while he kissed the side of my neck. I fended him off with one hand while trying not to spill my tray of food in the other. Carol rescued me. She said it was not an uncommon thing, for men at Brenda's parties to try and get one of her Maids to go upstairs with them.

 

By the time the last guest to left I was exhausted. I met Brenda in the large foyer.

"So. How was your first day on the job?"

My feet and calves ached from the pointed toe pumps. The corset felt like a steel vise around my waist.

"Tired." I responded, "I need to sit down for a few… Hold on a minute. What do you mean first? This was the first and last time I do this."

"No it's not." She said flatly

"Yes it is Brenda." I looked her square in the eyes. "The only reason I'm standing here in this… this outfit is because you tricked me into it. I would never, in a million years, dress like this willingly and you know it." With the thoughts of my evening's worth of humiliation playing in my mind I could feel my anger rising.

"No? Are you sure of that dear?"

"Yes." I stated defiantly.

"Never?"

"Never."

"Not even for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year salary?"

"No! Not even for… one hundred thousand? Well I… Are you serious?"

"Certainly. That is the typical arrangement I've made with my other Maids. I pay them well, and they do a good job. But, of course, if you don't want the job, there is no reason for you to sign this contract."

"Wait a minute!" I blurted, "What contract?"

"Why, the job contract, of course. It's a basic contract saying you accept the position as one of my Maids and assorted duties as assigned. Nothing fancy, mind you. My Attorneys insist that all household staff sign one. But, since you've declined the job, you don't need to worry about it."

"Now, hold on a minute, Brenda…"

"Ma'am"

"Hunh?"

"Ma'am or Ms. Windgrave. Personally, I prefer Ma'am. It's a little less formal. That is what I prefer my household staff to call me."

"Oh. Okay. Then… er… ah… Ma'am, it's just that you hadn't mentioned the salary before and..."

"Does that mean you are now accepting the job, Marie?"

"Well, yes. I mean…"

"Do you realize that means you will be working as one of my Maids? You will be working as a female Maid and will be required to wear that uniform you are wearing now, all day, every day?"

"Uh." I looked down at my self. My shoes hurt my feet, the skirt barely covered my privates, and the corset felt like it was cutting into me, but we were talking about a lot of money. For that, I would pretend I was a French Maid. "No problem" I blurted.

"Do you understand that means having your hair and nails done weekly to maintain your feminine appearance, as well as a few required, minor, enhancements or changes I may recommend?"

"Yes."

For one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year salary wearing makeup and a Maid's outfit several hours a day was a small price to pay. A spark shown in her eyes.

"Good. I just wanted to ascertain that you know what you are signing up for. If that is the case then just sign on the bottom there where it is marked with the X."

She laid a several page document on the foyer table and I signed at the bottom, feeling butterflies flutter in my stomach. Carol had been moving about the room, directing the Maids who were now cleaning up. Brenda called her over, handed her the contract, and told her to see that the Attorney received it. I admired the maids in their revealing, little outfits for a moment, then looked down at my own, identical outfit. Suddenly I felt light headed. The reality of what I had committed to hit me. I had legally bound myself to become one of them. The thought of One hundred and fifty thousand dollars had clouded my judgment. A little voice in my head kept telling me that working as a Maid was a small sacrifice. I bolstered my self. Hell! Women did it every day and didn't mind. Why should it be any different for me? If they could do it, I could certainly do it too. After work I would just switch back to my male self. Brenda's voice brought me back from my reverie.

"My Attorneys will handle the legal matters. Tomorrow, after you have settled into your rooms, Carol will take you to visit my cosmetics man. Actually, he is a she, and one of the best in the business I might add. I've already told her what I'd like her to do for you. Right now I'm feeling a bit tired and I'm sure you are too." Brenda started towards the staircase in the foyer. She didn't let me squeeze a word in edgewise. "Of course you'll be staying here at the house, as your contract indicated, so you can be available at a moments notice. Carol will show you to your rooms and make arrangements to move your things from your old apartment."

She called Carol over and I left my keys on the table as she instructed. Brenda passed the staircase to the upper floors and turned down a side hall leading to the rear of the house. Moving into Brenda's mansion and becoming a live in Maid was totally unexpected but, the money was too good to pass up.

Carol was stern. The way she treated the other girls and her manner indicated that. I followed her through a door off the lower hallway and into a small suite of rooms.

"These will be your rooms. You'll find extra uniforms and clothes, left by the girl you're replacing, in the closet and dressers. Consider them yours. Judging by your size, they will fit. She was a rather, shall I say, racy dresser. You will need something to wear besides that uniform. Good night, Marie. I'll see you in the morning."

Two seconds later she was gone and I was alone. I peered into the other rooms. It was like a comfortable apartment unit. A large, four post bed filled the bedroom. I opened a few of the dresser drawers and found them full of ladies lingerie. Stockings, Basques, corsets, panties and some assorted items. I wandered into a large walk-in closet. Several maid outfits like the one I was currently wearing hung from hangers. On a rack opposite the uniforms hung dresses, skirts, and blouses. That is when I realized what Carol meant by 'racy'. Most looked like something a call girl or hooker would wear, but all were definitely cute. I was exhausted and lay down across the bed. Before I knew it I was sleeping.

 

A knock on the bedroom door woke me with a start. I was disoriented and didn't know where I was or why I was dressed in a French Maid's outfit, My thoughts slowly came back to me. I rolled out of bed and opened the bedroom door. It was Carol, the head housekeeper. She smirked when she saw I was still wearing the Maid's uniform and told me to be ready to leave in one hour. I showered quickly and searched the closet for a suitable outfit to wear but could only find clothes suited to a hooker. I wanted to wear pants after wearing a skirt and nylons all the previous day, but there were none. I picked the most decent outfit I could find, a jean skirt with lacing up the sides that revealed my thighs and a black, see-through, nylon lace top. The thought of wearing stockings for a second day in a row did not appeal to me, but that was all I could find. For lingerie, I settled for a black, lace, body brief with attached garters. My reflection in the mirror was unsettling. I looked like a young, punk, girl and would have never guessed it was me if I hadn't known.

 

Carol drove me to the office of Brenda's cosmetics person, a short distance away. There was no waiting room, only a Receptionist wearing a typical business suit. We were immediately led back to a private room containing an overstuffed, reclining, examination table and medical equipment. The Receptionist asked me to sit on the table. I wondered why a cosmetics person needed medical equipment. A woman in a skirt suit came in shortly after and spoke quietly with Brenda for a few minutes. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying from where I sat, but the woman in the suit nodded her head numerous times. She introduced herself to me as Dr. Townsend when they were done speaking. She had a warm, sympathetic smile. She took my chin in her hand and turned my face this way and that to examine it. She excused herself, saying she would be back in a moment. Her assistant, a young blonde, came in a minute later and had me change into a hospital gown. Then she had me lay back onto the table. I was slightly startled by a slight prick in my right arm.

"That didn't hurt at all. Did it? Bet you didn't even know it was coming. I've given you an anesthesia. You'll be awake and totally aware during the procedures, but unable to move or speak. Most patients like it that way.

She was right. A few moments later I couldn't feel a thing as a darkness slowly enveloped me. I didn't understand why I needed an anesthetic to have makeup applied. Dr Townsend came in a few moments later and donned a pair of latex gloves. I could tell she was very experienced by the efficiency in which she worked. She explained to me what she was going to do as she prepared. Her words sounded far away.

"Since you'll be one of Brenda's girls, I'll give you the standard makeover. First, I'll enhance your breasts to 38Cs then I'll concentrate on your face. I'll take a little off the bridge of your nose and jaw line. That will give you softer, feminine look. To give you the perky look Brenda likes her girls to have I'll raise the outer ends of your brows and raise your upper lip a little to show your teeth a little. Nobody will ever guess you were ever male."

That was when I realized why the other Maids looked so similar and tried to scream for her to stop, but everything faded to black.

 

I awoke in my bedroom at the mansion feeling very groggy. All hopes that I was just having a bad dream were crushed when I felt the bandages on my face and the soreness in my chest. Sitting up was out of the question. The room spun around me when I tried. My hands cautiously felt my chest and face, verifying the worst. I hadn't been dreaming. Two large, soft mounds protruded from my chest beneath the pink nightie someone had dressed me in. I could only guess how my face looked. A soft knock sounded on my door and Carol stuck her head into the room to see if I was awake.

"Well, Marie, how are you feeling? I know it is a little uncomfortable right now, but you will feel much better in just a few days."

She gently checked the bandages on my face.

"Why did they do this to me?" I blurted weakly.

"Why? Because that is a requirement of being one of Ms Windgrave's Maids. She likes her Staff to have a certain look, if you know what I mean. Especially her Maids."

"If you hadn't noticed yet, Carol, I'm a man who has just been given breasts and facial surgery!"

"Were a man, dear, and of course you've had surgery. You accepted the position and signed the contract. Didn't you?"

"Yes, but this… this is…"

"…part of your contract. The contract was fairly explicit. It stated that you would be joining Ms Windgrave's staff as one of her Maids. Of course, for you to do that, a few changes had to be made."

"A few changes? Forget the contract. I'm canceling the contract."

"Oh, dear. I'm afraid it is much to late for that."

She touched my bandaged face and glanced down at my breasts.

"The changes Doctor Townsend made are quite irreversible. Forgive me for saying so but, for a Transvestite you don't seem very appreciative for what Ms Windgrave has done for you"

"Transvestite? Gift?"

"By gift, I'm referring to her paying for your changes."

"Gift? How is that a gift?"

"Ms Windgrave had been informed by quite a number of her employees at the office that you were a Transvestite and very unhappy. She was told you wanted nothing more than to fit in. That is why she selected you to become one of her Maids and has paid for your surgery."

"But I'm not a Transvestite!"

"No, of course not, not any more. You are quite female, just like the rest of the female staff. Now, Marie, I have something to show you. Look at this pendant. Isn't it beautiful? Relax. My grandmother gave it to me. Notice the exquisite detail it has." She started moving it back and forth slightly. "Relax and let the tenseness and pain flow from your body. Notice how the light glints off of it. See how it seems to sparkle? Relax, Marie. I will count down from 10 to 1 and with each number you will feel more relaxed and more sleepy."

She started counting down to one. I realized she was trying to hypnotize me and was determined not to let her. She must have been insane to think she could hypnotize me. The next moment I was alert again

"You poor little thing. You dozed off there for a moment there." Carol said sympathetically.

"Wee, Madame." I responded, immediately becoming alarmed. My voice was a whole pitch higher and soft. Even more alarming was the French accent I seemed to use when I spoke.

"The cosmetic procedures have left you exhausted. You should get some rest. Brenda has given you permission to take the rest of the week off, before you start work again."

"Thank you, Madame. I'm sure I will feel much better if I take a little nap."

I cringed at the sound of my French accent and feminine voice. I took a deep breath and tried to speak normal. "Madame, there seems to be some thing wrong with my voice." I stated. Even though I tried to speak normal and call her Carol, I couldn't. It was as if someone else was controlling my speech. Her name, Carol, always came out as Madame and everything I said had a heavy, feminine, French accent.

"You sound perfectly normal to me dear. You should get some rest."

"But, Madame," I insisted, "can you not hear the difference? I seem to have developed a French accent!"

"Of course you have a French accent, Marie," she smiled comfortingly, "you are a French Maid. All French Maids have French accents. They are French, silly. Now get some rest. I'll check in on you after while. Before I forget, there is a dilating kit for you on the dresser with instructions for you to follow on a daily basis, from the doctor"

She whisked herself out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. I tried to speak normally several more times in the privacy of my room, but found no matter how hard I tried it always came out the same. I closed my eyes, mind reeling. It occurred to me that the other Maids had spoken with French accents also. I wondered what I had gotten myself into as I fell asleep. A few hours later I awoke, needing to use the bathroom. The pain reliever was wearing off and I was feeling sore all over as I stumbled into the bathroom. I pulled down my panties and reached for my groin. I missed twice before realizing something was wrong and froze. Cautiously, I probed my privates for my groin. It was gone. I lunged for the light switch, snapped it on, pulled up the nightie I was wearing and pulled the panties down farther. My hands shook as I looked at the spot where my cock used to be. There was only a flat bandage in its place. I didn't have to wonder why I was sore anymore. It was then that Carol's words about being the same as her and the rest of the female staff came reverberating back through my mind. Dr. Townsend had changed my sex as well as giving me breasts and facial surgery. I passed out on the floor.

 

Two weeks passed and I felt as confused and trapped as the day after my changes. I didn't recognize myself when my face when the bandages were removed. The other maids in the house, and I, could easily pass as sisters. We all looked so similar. I had stood in front of a full length mirror, naked, staring at my face and body for the longest time. My mind didn't want to accept the changes. Anyone seeing me, dressed or otherwise, would not mistake my gender. For all intent purposes I was female. Carol had assigned me light chores to do around the mansion while I recovered. It didn't take long for me to realize I had been wrong about the ease of dressing and working as a Maid eight hours a day. I felt embarrassed and self conscious about wearing the French Maids outfit in front of guests and Brenda had lots of guests. The other Maids said I would get used to it, but I didn't.

I had figured I would just switch back to my male persona when my shift was over, but looking so female made that impossible. No matter how manly I tried to look everyone still took me as a woman. I found my self slowly, inescapably, fading into female oblivion. Having my hair and nails done weekly at the salon became routine. Standing in line to use the ladies room was part of life. I shaved my legs and wore makeup, bras, pantyhose, skirts, and dresses like any other female. Initially, the thought of being with a man sickened me. It is funny how a few months of hormones can change a person's point of view. The change was subtle and slow, but noticeable. My mental processes, mannerisms and likes were becoming more feminine by the day. The thought of being with a man became more and more appealing. I caught myself sneaking peeks at men. Something I would have never, ever done before. A few more months later I found myself flirting with men as I had watched many women do when I was male.

 

Then I met Steve, a wealthy investment broker. He asked me out. My curiosity had gotten the best of me and I accepted. I wanted to find out what if felt like to go on a date as a lady. He took me to an Opera. I wore a gown and he, a tux. It was exciting. At intermission I stood around looking elegant, with all of the other ladies, while he discussed business with some men he knew. After the Opera he took me to a private dance club. I had never liked dancing and certainly had never done so in the guise of a woman in a dress and heels, but he firmly insisted. There dance floor was crowded with other women, so I just mimicked their dancing the best I could. We had several more drinks. I remember thinking how I was starting to like being a woman. When I woke up, alone and naked in a hotel bed room I knew I had been drugged. My head ached and I felt sick. I felt even sicker when I found the opened prophylactic package on the nightstand.

It was late afternoon by the time I got back to the estate and was reprimanded for being late. I changed quickly into my Maids outfit and went straight to work, head ache and all. Brenda was having some lady friends from the office over for the evening. The other Maids were given the evening off and I, besides the cook, was the only one left to prepare. The ladies were to have cocktails, followed by dinner in the formal dining room, then aperitifs in the drawing room. I was in the kitchen helping with the food when the ladies arrived. Carol took their requests for drinks and passed them on to me, which I prepared, then carried into the drawing room on a tray to serve the ladies. I was startled to the point of almost dropping the tray as I entered the room and recognized several of Brenda's guests. My first instinct was to turn and run. But I couldn't. There was no where to run to.

I recognized Lee, the pretty Chinese/American from my old office, immediately. She was mingling with several other guests and paid me no attention. Then I recognized Shauna, Tracy, Page, and Cheryl, also from my old office. There were a few other ladies I didn't recognize. So, I thought, this was an office party. I wondered what they were celebrating. I held my breath as I went around the room serving the drinks. None of them appeared to recognize me, though a few made quiet comments about my cute outfit. They accepted their drinks with a polite smile and went back to their conversations. One of the ladies laid her hand on my rear and told me how she loved my outfit. A few other times, as I worked my way through the small group, serving drinks, I felt hands lightly caress my nylon clad thighs. Each time I jumped slightly, but drew blank, innocent expressions when I turned to see who had done it. Dinner was uneventful and everyone retired to the drawing room again afterwards.

 

Lee looked me straight in the eyes and smiled as I served her last drink of the evening.

"I heard you got lucky last night, Don. You naughty girl, you. I hope he was good." she said, sipping her drink and raising an eyebrow in amusement.

I almost dropped my empty tray as a shudder ran through my whole body. Alarms went off in my head. She knew! She knew about last night and she knew who I was. I stood speechless as she eyed me up and down, approvingly, in my uniform. A hand from behind caressed the top of my exposed thigh up to my panties. I jumped slightly and spun around. Page smiled at me.

"I trust your new job is going well? It certainly appears to agree with you. You've never looked… Shall I say… Lovelier?"

She smiled at her own joke as she sipped her drink, waiting for a response. Everyone giggled. I flushed beet red. The women had formed a circle around me. I tried to push my way out of the center of the enclosed circle, but the women blocked me.

Someone with a vise like grip grabbed my wrist and spun me around causing me to stumble in my uniform's high heel shoes. It was Lee. She had gotten stronger while I had been growing weaker because of the hormones. I twisted my arm in an effort to break her grip, but couldn't. She smiled a cold smile, bending my arm down, forcing me slowly to my knees.

"Look at you, she sneered. A poor, weak, defenseless, little woman. Tell me, Don, or rather, Marie. How does it feel to be under someone else's control? Another woman's control. My control." The other women I had blackmailed raised a murmur of approval. "How did you feel, Marie, when you woke up this morning to find you had been drugged and raped and there was nothing you could do about it? How does it feel to be a, Bitch?"

Realization hit home.

"You set me up!" I squealed in my French accented voice, to which a number of women laughed. "All, of you set me up! This was planned from the beginning."

She laughed, letting go of my arm.

"What better way to punish you for what you've done to us than to have turned you into the thing you disrespected the most, Marie? A French Maid, the most feminine personification of a woman there is. Believe me when I say this. There is no mistaking you for anything but a woman now. That is what you will be for the rest of your life."

She snickered and turned away with disgust, then turned back. "By the way. Did I tell you how great you look in that outfit?"

The other women followed her out of the room to the Foyer, where Brenda had been waiting patiently for them to finish with me. A few minutes later the Foyer was empty. They were gone. I knelt on the floor, sobbing. A short time later Carol came in and reminded me that the party still needed to be cleaned up. I wiped the tears from my cheeks, stood up, and straightened my dress. Carol quietly helped me load my tray with dirty glasses. I headed for the kitchen, lugging the tray like a practiced waitress. My heels clicked loudly on the tiled hall floor. The Foyer air felt cool beneath my short uniform as I tugged the hemline down for the thousandth time that night.

  

  

  

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