Man Maid
by Gennie TV
Part 2
Changes were happening so fast. Just short hours ago had anyone asked me I could have told them that I was a man, all man, and nothing but a man. But now...
At last I was ready to get started on my day, my new life. So it was with my emotions in an uproar, my body tightly encased in its satin & lace cocoon, and my mind on hold that I minced my way out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs. The short trip to the stairs helped to reinforce my earlier perceptions on the difficulty of navigating in heels and a tight skirt, but then I was a man and not accustomed to wearing skirts, women were biologically formed to wear skirts, so it is easier on them. (Be careful 'gennie' thoughts like that are a big part of why you are dressed as you are.) But I was, in my own small way, beginning to appreciate what Debbie had said about the restrictions of wearing a skirt. For no matter how wonderfully sensuous the caress of that skirt was around my nylon clad legs and thighs, its ability to restrict even the most basic of movements, was a constant reminder of my limited freedom. In spite of the constant reminders however, the restricted breathing, the short mincing steps, and the constant arousal of my confined manhood my automatic actions were still intact.
When I finally reached the stairs my feet and body started out in exactly the same way that they had been trained to do by years of descending stairs on two feet. My right foot went out and down, my body leaned forward, and my left foot started to lift and move forward. At least that's what my mind thought they were doing. Had it not been for the rail I would have gone down the stairs head over high heels. The simple act of walking down stairs is a very much more complex action than we generally give it credit for being. (Like tying your shoes right? Try writing instructions for tying shoes and see if it is not a very complex task. Almost as bad as trying to buckle thin little ankle straps with inch long finger nails while in a corset, but more on that later.) I was brought to the sudden realization that I count on being able to see my feet and move my legs freely as I walk down stairs. With my newly enhanced chest, I could not see my feet, and my beautiful shiny skirt would not allow me to open my legs. I would never have guessed how much of an adjustment that would be. To add insult to injury the design of my new shoes with the high open instep and tiny little heel did not offer the same platform for my foot to land on as I was used to. When coming down stairs in high heels it is possible to have your heel land on the stair and the rest of your foot land in mid air, very conducive to broken, ankles, legs, arms or even a neck. Not at all like flying down the stairs in jogging shorts and running shoes.
Through careful experimentation I learned that if I turned my body somewhat to the side and slowly lowered my foot to the next step down, I could have my toes land first for stability and not feel like I would fall. The only problem was that because of my restricted stride my other foot had to be right on the edge of the step above, putting most of my weight on that tiny little heel. I even tried pulling the hem of the skirt up so that I would have more freedom of motion, but it was designed in such a way that it fit my proportions exactly and would not move up even on my slippery legs. (It did not occur to me to take the skirt off to get down the stairs, thank the Supreme Being once again.) I was however, beginning to suspect that the fit of the skirt and blouse like the fit of the chastity was no accident, that my 'uniform' as my wife had called it was also custom made (so I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes). After what seemed like an hour but was actually only minutes I reached the bottom of the stairs and almost fell again. It did not dawn on me that thick pile, heavily padded carpet, would take a whole different set of balance and ankle muscles in order to be walked upon in high heels. What an experience, I felt as unsure of myself as a baby just learning to walk, not a comfortable feeling for a virile, self sufficient, self centered, MAN. Fortunately (surprisingly, actually) after a few seconds I learned my new balance center and hobbled my way into the kitchen.
Ahhhhh wood what a relief to have a solid floor beneath my feet. I found that my beautiful wife had set up the coffee pot, which I promptly turned on, and left me another note, on the kitchen table. After all that I had been through I should have been suspicious of her generosity but I needed my coffee and she had been nice and set it up for me. (How was I to guess that she had put a diuretic into the coffee grounds? I knew she wanted me to learn first hand what it was like to wear a skirt and corset before I would be allowed to 'ask' her to wear one, but to make me need to pee every ten minutes just to enhance the lesson was going a bit far I thought.) I picked up her note and was surprised to discover that my hands were no longer shaking and my knees didn't rattle so I began to believe that I might possibly survive the entire day. I was beginning to adjust to my new role and requirements and I didn't even realize it.
"Dear gennie,
So nice of you to finally make it downstairs, have any trouble coming down the stairs? Oh no of course you didn't you're one of those tough I can do anything (wo) men, aren't you lover? You have undoubtedly already started the coffee I made it special just for you, so feel free to drink the whole pot if you are so inclined. It's a new blend let me know what you think of it. Susan recommended it; she said she was certain you would love it. Oh by the way, while I'm thinking about it. Just in case you decided to cheat and come down to breakfast less than fully dressed... you remember how you insisted that we have that fancy security system installed. Do you remember how excited you got when the salesman suggested that we could put a camera inside the house in case someone got in while we were out, it would increase our chances of identifying a burglar? It was you who suggested that we could mount one just above the front door behind the track lighting and another just above the kitchen door behind the plants. They would have a good view of most of the downstairs and being hidden we could just forget about them when we were home. You do remember doing that don't you dear? We of course would only need to activate them when we were out of the house. Well dear I'm out of the house and guess what? Yep! You guessed it! Smile! You're on gennie camera. I feel obligated to inform you that I will review the tape this evening and if I see you under-dressed or there is evidence that the tape has been tampered with, I may just forget where I hid the keys for your pretty new under-panty. Maybe I should invite Karin over to review it with us we can make a party out of it. Have some popcorn, a few beers, and lots of laughs. By now it is no doubt late morning, perhaps even close to noon, and I am certain you want to get some food and coffee into your slightly compressed stomach. I have left you a grapefruit in the refrigerator and two slices of bread for toast, dry no butter. For your sake I would suggest that you eat only half of the grapefruit, and one slice of toast and that you go light on the coffee, but of course the choice is totally up to you. However, before you begin to consume your health conscious breakfast, go to the laundry room and start a load of wash. That way it will be washing while you are eating. I have already separated the loads for you. You will find that the clothes that need to be washed today are yours. We have done some shopping for you at the Goodwill store and feel you should wash the clothes before you wear them. Read the labels carefully dear before you try to dry anything, you don't want your new sweaters shrinking any do you? Some of them may be a little tight on your beautiful bust already without shrinking. Enjoy your breakfast dear. When you have finished breakfast you will find the vacuum in the hall closet and the bathroom cleaner is the under the sink in each of the bathrooms, be sure to remove all soap scum from the shower doors, and scrub the toilet, sink and tub. I thought about having you hang the wet clothes outside to dry but Karin suggested that that might be too much for you on your first day of womanhood, and convinced me that you should be allowed to use the dryer for today. Now remember dear, safety first. Always lift objects from the floor with your knees not your back. Bend your knees keeping your back straight and lift with your knees. Oh that's right! You can't bend and lift any other way can you? Oh silly, silly, me! Well be sure you don't run up or down the stairs with your laundry, we don't want you to trip. Oh, hash, that's right, I forgot you're in a skirt. Makes running kinda hard doesn't it? Or does it? After all you're the one that thinks tight skirts and high heels are so wonderful that they should be worn all the time. Oh don't look so unhappy dear, after all this was all your idea. Sorta. Why thanks to your sisters and I you now have a chance to enjoy wearing the clothes you love so much. See you latter my little gennie,
loves & hugs
Debbie
PS: Be careful you don't wait too long when you feel the urge to pee. Remember you will have to be able to sit. No more of that nasty gag-me-with-a-spoon action of whip it out, let it leak, shake it off, and shove it back for you, no ma'am. Be sure to wipe carefully when you are done too. Enjoy your coffee.
D.
What does she think I am a little girl? I mean boy. She did say earlier that I was acting like a spoiled little girl, but what does that have to do with instructions on how to use the toilet? And what was that bit about what I should have for breakfast? I am a grown man (looking down though I did have some doubts) and I will have what I want for breakfast. Grapefruit, umph I don't even like grapefruit. I felt though that I should follow her advice on getting the laundry started, I didn't want to give her any excuses to increase her revenge on me. I had no idea what she would do if I was not done when she got home and I had no desire to find out. I was almost afraid to look in the laundry room. With what I had been through so far I was not sure I could stand anymore. But she did say that she had bought me some clothes at Goodwill. The thought occurred to me that maybe, just maybe there were some pants or maybe some shorts, in those piles. Yes! I'll bet she bought me at least one pair of pants even if they are women's it would be better than this skirt. (Yes, the skirt was beautiful, it felt wonderful, and I loved it's caress, but I couldn't walk, I couldn't sit, and if I stood very long my ankles would wobble.) That's it! I rationalized this is her way of letting me off the hook at least a little. She must have bought me at least one pair of pants.
Now excited I minced as quickly (which was actually quite slowly) as I could out to the laundry room, my ass swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane, my tits bouncing like Michael's basketballs, I didn't care. I again thanked the Supreme Being for having the laundry room on the same level as the house, even though it was in the garage. As I walked past my car I instinctively tried to put my hand into my pocket to be sure I had my keys. All my hand found of course was a smooth tight satin plane that even if it had had a pocket, it would have been incapable of holding keys let alone my hand in its limited confines. That's when the realization that I had not seen my keys hit me like a wall. I had not to that point thought about my keys or my wallet with all of my identification. They are the kind of thing a person takes for granted, s/he assumes that certain items, like keys, wallets, toothbrushes, (at least my toothbrush was where I had left it) will be where s/he left them when they went to bed. In my case that was in my jeans which were no where to be found (I know I looked). A wave of complete helplessness suddenly engulfed me. I felt so small and vulnerable, just like the little girl my wife said I had been acting like. I realized that while I hadn't brought it to the surface I was confident that in case of emergency, I could, if I absolutely had too, get into my car and drive away. I now knew that even if I could get into my car, and somehow get it started, I had no money, no credit cards, no identification of any kind. If I went somewhere and was stopped I had no way to prove who I was and no reasonable explanation of why I was dressed as I was. I had this awful vision of me standing before the judge in all my confined and translucent glory saying "yes your honor I am your 14 year old daughter's teacher". (No matter what, the risk was just too great!)
Then suddenly, without warning the flood gates opened, the emotions that I had been fighting so hard to maintain control of for so long released themselves in an explosion that would have rivaled that of Mt. St. Helen's. Years of repressed emotion, fear, desires, cravings, started pouring forth into my consciousness, and once begun I was helpless to stop or even slow them. With my carefully crafted safety net removed I found myself starting to cry. I tried to stop (men don't cry), but the harder I tried the harder I cried. My body tried to take in deep breaths to aid my crying, but the most my corset would allow my diaphragm to pull into my lungs were short sobbing type breaths, my enhanced chest heaving, threatening to break through the thin silk covering of my blouse. Vivid images of my father's chastisements and humiliations filled my mind. Visions of my childhood, memories of how I had felt while dressed in Susan's and Karin's clothes, how right it had felt to wear a dress, came flashing through. My attitudes towards my sisters, mother, and wife, and how I must have hurt them all came rushing at me, I tried to hide, but with my wall of safety gone there was nowhere for me. I was again without choice, I faced those emotions and I cried. I could not remember ever having had such a tremendous release of so many emotions at one time. I couldn't move, I just stood there next to my car and cried for what must have been close to an hour.
When I was finally able to catch my breath and compose myself somewhat, I realized that my feet, ankles, and calves were very sore. I no longer cared whether Debbie had left me any pants in the laundry room or not, I needed to get my weight off of those shoes, fast. My only focus was to get the clothes into the washer, and get back to the kitchen so that I could have my coffee and attempt to settle my thoughts. Avoiding another look at my car I made my way into the cramped confines of the laundry room. On the floor alongside the washer were three piles of clothes: One consisted of what looked like lingerie by the pound; another that looked like a cross between an aerobic teacher and ballerina's wardrobe; and the third consisted of blouses, sweaters, skirts and dresses. The piles were marked with a 1, 2, & 3 in addition to what wash cycle and temperature setting each should be washed in. "I can handle this, no problem." I started to bend over to retrieve the clothes from the floor and was quickly returned to reality. Bending at the waist was just not to be allowed. I instead followed my wife's instructions and bent my knees and kept my back straight and found that I could not pick up the clothes that way (from straight on) either. Between my tits getting in the way and a tendency to feel as if I would fall on my face, I just could not proceed in that manner. So gathering my tattered pride, I stood, made a quarter turn and squatted again. This time I was able to retrieve clothes from the floor with my right hand and hang them over my left arm for placement into the washer. I actually felt a surge of pride at my accomplishment when I started the washer. Isn't it amazing how the mind adapts? Just a few short hours ago I was a strong willed, self absorbed male that would have cringed at the thought washing clothes, now feeling a sense of pride because I was able to get some clothes into a washing machine and get it running. By this time however my body was screaming COFFEE! I WANT COFFEE!! I WANT COFFEE NOW!!! I NEED COFFEE NOW!!!!
I somehow made my way back into the kitchen, the smell of the coffee drawing me closer...closer until I was finally at the pot, mug in hand pouring that life sustaining nectar into it, raising it slowly, savoring that wondrous perfume, taking that first invigorating sip, my body shudders its thanks for at least that small sip of normalcy. Pulling the mug down from my frosted lips I note the fine detail of the imprint my lipstick has left on the edge of the mug. I look down at my hand and note how much nicer fingers look when properly polished. I look down to see if my toes look as good and meet with a lavender vision of satin and lace, barely covered by the sheerest of silk, my feet forgotten in the dream of my obscured vision being a reality. I could almost feel the ache in my nipples as they increased in size and hardness, in lust for the vision my eyes now beheld. I sigh, and think; "Poor old Dad would turn over in his grave if he even suspected the thoughts I was just having." But there must be something wrong with me to feel this way. I am fantasizing about what it would be like to have real tits, I want my hands properly manicured, I feel right, if even a bit trapped in a skirt and heels. I must be crazy or gay. Oh Debbie... Karin... Susan... what have you done to me? Too much to process, no matter how hard I try to imagine it sex with a man does not interest me, my vision of sex is still with me in the male role with Debbie, but I'm the one in the frilly nightgown. During these ruminations, without even realizing I had done it, I have poured myself another cup of coffee and sat down at the table to drink it. How did I do that? I sat down without thinking! Without realizing that I had done it! Was I becoming that accustomed to sitting in satin already? I sipped my coffee in silence looking for answers. Answers that I feared would cause even more questions.
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