School Maid              by: Anne O’Nonymous

 

Part Seven--All things must come to an end.

Michelle walked with her new friend to her car, not too far away, and opened the door for her. Diana remarked on how nice the car was, and Michelle explained how it was a gift from Mary. The drive to Diana’s apartment was short, and soon the pair had their coats off and Michelle seated at the kitchen table, as Diana bustled around putting water on to boil, and cups and saucers out.

"All I have is instant; is that alright with you?"

"Sure," replied Michelle, as she watched her. Her apartment was one of the usual campus products, Spartan could be the best explanation. Diana, however, was a man’s dream: her hair, cascading to her shoulders, was blacker than the inside of a coal mine at midnight; eyes closely matching a pair of flawless emeralds; a pert, turned-up nose too cute for words; blood-red lips that seemed to be specifically designed for kissing; and a creamy skin that appeared to have no need for skin lotion. Her 5’8" frame had that 38-24-36 shape that every man desired on a woman (Michelle’s own 38-25-37 also drew appreciative whistles on campus). Diana was no playboy bunny of the month, she was The Playboy Bunny Of The Century!!!

Diana smiled at her, seeming to read her mind. "Why don’t we get a little more comfortable while the water’s heating?"

"That water isn’t the only thing that was heating up," thought Michelle. "Come on, girl, steady yourself. She either has a boyfriend or is married. She’s jock material, and besides that, you’re just another girl to her, remember?"

"These shoes are killing me! I guess I can take them off."

Diana looked at her, smiled, then replied, "My oh my, you are shy, aren’t you, dear? I’ll get you a robe if you want." She giggled a bit, then said, "When I said comfortable, I meant down to the basics!"

"Emm, Diana, you’re not a lesbian, by any chance?" Michelle inquired, not wanting to upset her by what she might see.

"Bite your tongue! Come on, shoes and stockings first. If you want, I’ll leave the room."

As Diana left the room, Michelle sat down on a couch, removed her shoes, then saw her stockings. "Damn!"

"What’s wrong," inquired Diana from her bedroom.

"I got a run. And these were practically new stockings, too!"

"No problem! I can lend you a pair."

"Thanks, Di. I’d appreciate that."

As Diana re-entered the room wearing one robe, and carrying slippers and a robe for her, Michelle was down to panties and bra -- a "maleness" was quite apparent. Diana ignored it, as she handed the robe to her, with a "here you go."

"Thanks," Michelle replied, as she pulled on the warm covering, tied the sash in front and curled up on the couch.

Diana left the slippers on the floor in front of Michelle, placed her discarded clothes on a chair as she returned to the kitchen to get the coffee.

The smell of fresh coffee permeated the room, as Diana entered the room with a tray of two cups of coffee, cream and sugar, some forks, and slices of chocolate cake. She asked, "do you like classical music, Michelle?"

At the nod, Diana cried, "Great! I’ll put some on, and we can chat for awhile. I presume you are staying over?"

"I might as well," she replied, adding the cream and sugar. "This couch is pretty comfortable!’

"No couch for you, dear. I’ve a good-sized bed available, and I won’t take no for an answer. Now, let’s have some music while we talk," she replied as she sorted through a pile of CD boxes. Taking one out, she carefully put it in the player with a "Here’s one I think you’ll like!"

As far as Michelle was concerned, it wasn’t possible to make a worse selection. Oh, it was good music from a great composer, and that was the problem!

From a tear-strewn face, Michelle implored, "Diana, please put on something else! That particular piece of music always gets to me."

Diana sat there, drinking her coffee, watching Michelle weeping like a woman in deep mourning. Finally, she got up and went to comfort her. "That piece of music, Samuel Barber’s ‘Adagio for Strings,’ was my father’s favorite. He, too, would cry copious tears!"

Michelle managed a little chuckle. At least there was one more sissy in the world! Imagine crying over a piece of music. "At least I’m not the only softie in the world!"

"Let me tell you about my father," Diana started, sipped a little coffee, then continued, as she sat there with an arm around her waist. "My father was in Fire Rescue. They fought fires, and went into burning areas to rescue people. He is credited with saving thirty lives, pulled three people from a burning car, went into the wreckage of a collapsed building and saved the lives of two fellow firemen. Also, he has two citations, two commendations, and one was pending when he was killed, saving a child’s pet. He often told me, ‘Don’t remember how I died, remember how I lived!’ and I try, but it is hard."

"Your father was really a man! All those heroic acts," Michelle said, awestruck.

At that, Diana started laughing.

"Now what did I do?"

"Michelle, you can’t imagine how funny that statement is! When my father had time off, or when he came home from a hard shift, the first thing he did was take a bubble bath. Then it was panties, garter belt, everything, including makeup. Mom would drive us to a distant city, we would shop, eat, maybe take in a play, then home to bed. I and my two sisters would call him ‘Aunt Kat,’ and we would go shopping, look at dresses and things. He always brought the most frilliest things for himself. We were closer to our father than any, repeat any, other girls in school. At home, he was the most gentle person I’ve ever known. Now, he is gone, my mother is in a hospital with terminal cancer, and my sisters are in schools, far away. Michelle, in spite of all the people around, I am miserable because I’m so alone!"

"Diana, you are so beautiful, so pretty, so attractive! How could a girl like you be alone?"

"Michelle, you have no idea how badly some of these guys act out on a date. A dinner and a show, and they expect you to sleep with them for the next two weekends. Other guys have this ‘Hey, look a me, I’m a man!’ syndrome. Look, I don’t know why, but I really like you. There is something about you that I find appealing. Ummm, a kind of velvet fist, you might say."

"Wait a minute, I’m wearing a dress, I think I’m a man, and you ‘like’ me? Like this!"

"Strange, isn’t it," Diana chuckled. "Here you are -- a guy in bra, panties and robe -- and I would really like to get to know you better!"

"How strange and crazy this world is! Here is a gorgeous girl any man would be proud to date and she wants a guy in a dress," ‘Mike’ thought in wonder of it all.

At 11:00 p.m., the pair called it a day and turned in, Michelle in a pair of pale lavender nylon babydolls, and Diana in royal blue pajamas. Cuddled up in bed, they looked like they had known each other for years, instead of just meeting that day.

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When the insistent buzzing of the alarm woke them in the morning, Michelle said "good morning," and Diana kissed and returned her greeting. The shower was certainly not built for two, which made the morning wash even more fun. After lathering, scrubbing, and rinsing, each patted the other dry. Diana found enough extra clothes to lend an outfit to Michelle, so she would look like all the rest of the girls on campus.

As Diana set the table, Michelle managed to scrounge up enough food to make breakfast, consisting of oatmeal with honey and strawberry jam, orange juice, coffee and a bagel. Yesterday’s events were rehashed, discussed, and some laughs ensued. After the meal, the dishes were washed and placed back in their proper place. Diana mimicked the felon of the other day, almost succeeding in putting Michelle on the floor with her antics.

"Hey, Di! I better phone home . . . "

"Oh, that’s right! Ms. Murphy will be worried," she replied, "she won’t do anything bad, will she?"

"After last night, I wouldn’t care if she stuck pins in me! My only concern is she will stop me from seeing you."

Diana frowned. She found the man she wanted, and now she wasn’t about to let anyone else take him away from her. Now sharing was a different matter; after all, a guy this nice has to have someone else who loved him very much.

The phone call to Mary resulted in Terri answering, "Good morning, Ms. Mary Murphy’s residence! Terri, the maid, here: how may I be of service to you?"

"Terri, Michelle here. Is Ms. Murphy at home?"

"Hi girl! I missed you so much, it hurts. Mary is right next to me. I’ll put her on."

There was a moment’s pause, then, "Hi Michelle. Where are you?"

"I’m in the apartment of Diana Kingston, on campus. She’s a very, very good friend." (This was a code meaning she was a Sister.)

"Come home and bring her with you. There is a small problem that needs taking care of!"

"I’ll be home in fifteen minutes!" As Michelle hung up the phone, she told Diana, "Mary said to bring you out to her. She didn’t say why! And she has a small problem."

The duo was soon strapped in the car, and off to home. (Michelle loved the feeling of that word: home. It is a place of safety, warmth, and love. A place that has a meaning to her!) The drive was quick, few people and cars braved this fairly chilly morning. Soon, the gates loomed ahead, and the entrance keyboard at the driver’s fingertips. A code was punched in, and the car drove onto the grounds -- Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. She often did that now, as this was where the ones she most loved resided. Parking in a space reserved for her (a recent perk), she got out and rushed around to open the door for Diana.

"Oh my God! Terri! How could she be so stupid!" Michelle loved Terri as much as she could anyone. Now how was she going to explain this new love in her life?

The side door was opened, the pair entered and made their way to the kitchen, then to the living room. Terri was the first to greet them, hugging Michelle like she was a long lost relative. Kim was next, then Chris and Mary. Diana stood on the side, sadly thinking, "Look at all the pretty girls around him! I just don’t stand a chance. Just what the hell was I thinking."

"Emmm, Ms. Murphy, if you could just get someone to get me back to . . .," Diana tried to say, desperately fighting back her tears of disappointment.

"And just where do you think you are going? I need you! Please, sit and wait for a few minutes."

Although she didn’t want to, Diana sat and watched the group hug and kiss each other. "God," she thought, "They look like a convention of lesbians."

As Michelle sat down, Terri brought Diana over to sit at her right, and she sat at the left. Mary started to speak: "Michelle, we have a person in need of correcting. This particular person has a bad habit of standing up dates, then giving lies as excuses. Once he was dating two girls at a time, and stood both of them up. He went out with a third girl, a cousin so he said. She wasn’t! So, he’s going to be chastised for his immaturity, rudeness and lack of character. Some other character flaws have also come out. Will you assist us? Please don’t think of this as a command, it is a request!"

"I swore to assist my sisters in whatever way I could. Ms. Murphy, I took that oath in good faith, and I intend to live up to my promises whenever I can!"

"Good! I’m glad to hear it. Now, Diana, you have an apartment in town. Is that true?"

"Yes, it’s on the city-campus border. Why?"

"Well, I still have room here. I’m sure you and Michelle can share a room."

Michelle quickly protested, well -- slightly disagreed, "Mary, I already share a room with Terri. I’m sorry, but it is unfair to her to move me out suddenly. Besides, I’m a maid."

"And as my maid, you will obey my orders, Michelle, or you go into the nursery. You too, Terri. Now, the both of you, listen to me: Diana will have a room, Kim will have a room, Terri will have a room, and you, Michelle, will have a little suitcase, with pretty nighties in it, going from room to room. Do you remember an old joke where the guy says, ‘there goes my Sundays’ or something to that effect -- well, Michelle, there goes your Sundays. I expect you to give companionship to all these nice females. I think, mostly, that’s all they want! Just someone to trust, to confide in and to be there for them to cuddle with. You, my dear, are going to be their big sister with a little, not literally, something extra to give them pleasure -- now will you be willing to do that, for me?"

"Well, I for one," replied Terri, "am willing to share!"

In a matter of minutes, Michelle became the "big sister" to a half-dozen very attractive girls, then related the account of last night. Only she made Diana seem to be the heroine in the tale. Diana, on her part, returned the favor so the group eventually thought both were "the hero."

"Sorry to break up this happy homecoming, but we do have a chore to attend to!" Mary stated in an authoritarian voice.

After a drink of water, Terri, Mary, and Michelle left Diana to get acquainted with the rest of her new roomies, and go "chastise" some poor male.

The drive to the place where the man was being held was quick, and as they approached the house, Michelle recognized it immediately. It was where she was initiated! They had come in from a different direction, but still she knew ‘it’ was the place.

"Recognize it, Michelle," Mary asked.

"Yes! Strangely enough it was a high point in my life, up to now," she replied, a broad smile across her face.

Opening the door, they entered and greeted the sisters in attendance. Although she did not recognize any, they hugged and kissed her in welcome as if they had known her since childhood. Their warm feelings were of genuine love.

"The man you requested is in the chamber now," one of the sisters told Mary.

"Michelle, I need to prepare you to meet this man, so please follow me," Mary said, before turning and walking down the hallway. Michelle followed close behind her, and into a room where they stopped.

"Now let’s get you ready to meet your victim," Mary stated, getting a hooded robe and veil from a rack. The fine mesh veil was placed over the face. Michelle, at first, wondered how she would be able to see -- then, with the veil close to her face, it was like looking out a screened window. With the robe on, its hood over the head, she resembled a monk from the Middle Ages going to prayer.

Mary led her from the antechamber to the holding room. Upon entering the room, Michelle was in for the biggest shock of her life! Their, in a chair bathed in light from all sides, sat, calmly with no guards, Paul Simmons. Of all people, Paul! Mary quickly took Michelle by the arm and guided her out of the room.

"No, Michelle, he did nothing wrong. Yes, it is a trick. I’m sorry, but I had to do this to you." Through the veiling, Michelle could see the apprehensive look on Mary’s face. It was an "I done something wrong, but I have a damn good reason for doing it" kind of look.

"Mary, please explain," she replied, angry and confused over this turn of events.

Mary cleared her throat twice, then again. "Paul, your friend, is leaving school to take a well-paying job on the coast. He wants to get enough money to hire a detective to find out what happened to you. He has said he will find you eventually, but he may ruin his life doing it. I, yes I, don’t want him to waste his life like that. So, we got him so you can close out your life with him."

Michelle understood exactly what that meant as she suddenly grabbed Mary, saying, "Oh God, Mary. To do this for me, you are the greatest!" The hug lasted several minutes, then there was a man to face.

Michelle strolled into the room and over to where Paul was sitting. "Hello Paul. How are you?"

"OK, I guess. What is it you want of me? I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong!’

"Paul, we want nothing from you. I am here to give you something: peace of mind."

"Peace of mind? The best friend I’ve ever had disappears, and you offer me peace of mind! Tell me what has happened to him, then I’ll feel better."

"OK. Paul, remember the Hallowe’en you dressed up as a ghost and entered the old Masterson house. You ran out, swearing you saw a ghost! The next day, we went back, and there was a big mirror where you saw your reflection. You liked sour balls. Your first crush was on a blonde teacher named Janice Nesterman."

"How do you know all these things! Wait, Mike Green was the only person . . . is that you! MIKE, Mike . . . please tell me it’s you!" In a flash, Paul was on his feet trying to unveil his lost friend. Two well-manicured hands gripped his, and gently pushed him back into his seat.

"In the flesh, buddy. Paul, a lot has happened to me. I understand you have a nice job waiting on the coast?"

"Yeah, look, why don’t you come with me, please. I’m sure there’s a job waiting for you. Wait! You’re not a prisoner here, are you?"

"Whoa," Michelle said, laughing, "Curb that enthusiasm, boy! Damn, this is hard for me to do, so please don’t make this harder than it is. We were friends for many years, and now it’s time to part company. You have your road to travel, a wife to find, kids to have, and I have mine. Paul, you were closer to me than any brother, I dearly love you, as a brother -- that letter . . ."

"Yeah, I didn’t think it was genuine."

OK, Michelle what now? Scare him with "it wasn’t a fake" or "I really am in love"? Tell him the truth, all of it?

"It was meant to help distance us, to peacefully allow you to go your own way. Paul, things happened to me that, at the time, were horrible in my way of thinking. Now, what has occurred has made me a better human -- I’ve changed a lot. Please, go to your new job and be happy, and that will make me happy. . . ."

"Mike, now that I know you’re alive and well, come on with me. Please tell me they aren’t holding you a prisoner, are they? I mean that covering and all."

"Oh God, Paul, no! I’ve never been so happy! I’ve a nice home, excellent friends, wonderful meals and I’m well taken care of. I do hope you experience the same happiness I feel. This covering? It is to protect you from knowing who I am. Paul, I’m different in many ways . . . the Mike you knew, and liked, is now a past, distant memory."

"Mike, I really don’t want to lose you, but I guess there does come a time when it is necessary to part company, and this does seem to be it. Can you keep in touch, I’d like that!"

"Paul, I’m not sure what the future holds for me, but I can tell you this: I don’t think there will ever be a dull moment!"

"Well, one of us has got to go first before both of us start blubbering like two old ladies."

"Oh, Paul, if you only knew," Michelle thought, then said, "Hey, I’ve been doing that a lot lately."

Mike pulled Paul to his feet, and kissed him on the cheek, then gave him a hug. Paul, shocked by this, just took it as a sign of regard. Later, he would wonder at the traces of lipstick on his cheek. Each patted the other on the back in brotherly affection. Paul took note of a strong aroma of perfume, but only as a curiosity.

Returning to the antechamber, Mike wept for a while, then asked Mary to take him home.

It was on the way back, Mary asked, "I think that went very well, under those circumstances, Mike."

"Yes, Mary. It went very well." ‘Mike’ turned to Mary and asked, "You’re the one that set him up in a job, didn’t you?"

"I confess! He’s the assistant to a vice president of a ladies clothing store chain. It’s a very good job with nice benefits!"

"I should have known," Michelle said with a laugh. Paul was now well set. In a year or two, he would be married and a VIP, and she would still be a maid -- and Michelle would still be happier.

"Mike, do you want to stop for a bite? There’s a nice restaurant ahead."

‘Mike’ was silent, looking out at the scenery.

"Mike, didn’t you hear me?" Mary repeated her question.

"It’s Michelle, ma’am, I’d love to have something to eat, but who is this ‘Mike’ you keep referring to?" Michelle said mischievously.

People in passing cars wondered at the two women laughing uproariously at some hidden joke.

 

Finis

That’s all folks -- Annie O

 

 

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© 2001 by Ann O'Nonymous. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.