SISSOLOGY: Complete Sissy MaiD Vol .1
by
Jo Santana
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Miro Books
SISSOLOGY: COMPLETE SISSY MAID VOL .1
Copyright © 2010 by Jo Santana
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
TOTAL SURRENDER: THE STORY OF A SISSY MAID
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FORCED TO BE A SISSY MAID
By Jo Santana
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I think the Christmas party was the beginning of my downfall. I worked for one of the major investment banks in the city of London. It really wouldn’t be a good idea to say which one, even now they might frown on some of the things that happened there. Besides, some of the people that I was involved with are still working there now and the last thing I need is a lawsuit to add to my difficulties.
The party was in full swing, I was there with my wife Rachel. She had persuaded me to wear girly clothes, in fact I was dressed as a French maid and to complete the cross dressing theme she was dressed as Charlie Chaplin. I have to say she looked a really cute in her baggy trousers, long black jacket and bowler hat with a false moustache glued to her upper lip. She completed her outfit with a walking stick and had even practiced the silly Chaplin walk just for the party. My outfit was a classic Satin French maid’s short dress complete with stiff frilly petticoats that made the skirt stand out in a traditional manner. The dress was quite tight fitting and had no give in it at all, so moving my arms was difficult.
She had persuaded me to wear her traditional satin corset, into which I had been ruthlessly laced so that my waist was a good four inches less than normal. Breathing, I can assure you, was extremely difficult and sitting down quite a complicated performance. I found it best to just perched on the edge of a chair when I needed to sit. Attached to the suspenders of my corset were the regulation fishnet stockings and Rachel had managed to get hold of a pair of high-heeled shoes. I think they were about a four inch heel, into which I had squeezed my feet. The French maid’s outfit was hers because we were in fact a similar size but her shoes were the only part of her wardrobe that wouldn’t fit me. My feet were a good two sizes larger than hers. Unsurprisingly, because of course she is a girl and I am a bloke.
My sexy outfit was complemented by a pair of black silky opera gloves that reached past my elbows, a cute French maid’s cap that was pinned to my hair and disguised the fact that I had a masculine haircut, and a satin choker around my neck. Before we had left the house to go to the party she had decided that my outfit was not complete without makeup, and so I was sat down uncomfortably for twenty minutes while she bustled around making up my face with a variety of lipsticks and cosmetics and applying false eyelashes. When she pronounced herself ready, she led me over to the full-length mirror in our hall for me to look at the result. I have to admit that I was totally shocked. Normally I am a pretty conventional looking guy, perhaps not as tall as some and somewhat on the thin side, but definitely 100% male. Yet in the mirror I could see a sexy looking French maid looking back at me with an astonished look on her cherry red lips.
“Rachel, that’s fantastic, I would never have believed it possible.”
“Yes, you do look absolutely gorgeous, Andrew. I think if I was a guy I would really fancy you.” She smiled. “In fact I am dressed as a guy and I definitely do fancy you. Maybe we can do something about it later on?”
She was definitely beginning to get horny and I was just as tempted.
“Look, Rachel, we’ve got a bit of time to spare, why don’t we go upstairs and do something about it?”
She thought for a moment. “No, Andrew, I fancy it too but there isn’t a great deal of time. Besides, you don’t want to ruin your makeup to you?”
I felt a bit crushed. I had begun to get visions of great sex with each of us dressed in clothes of the opposite gender. Besides, I really didn’t give much of a damn about the makeup. Still, we were running out of time if we were going to get to the party so I reluctantly agreed to postpone sex until later.
“Come on Andrew, we need to get going. You can borrow my raincoat, you’d look a bit silly wearing your own in that outfit.”
“But Rachel, I intended to wear my long coat to hide the outfit, it is a bit embarrassing to go out in public dressed like this.”
“Don’t be silly, how is a long coat going to hide your fishnets and high heels, apart from your made up face and cute little maid’s hat?”
I had to agree, it would have looked totally ridiculous. She handed me her black Burberry trench coat and helped me do up the buttons, which were of course the opposite way to which I was accustomed. She fastened the belt for me and pulled up the collar so that it gave me a rather trendy appearance.
“You’ll need a handbag, Andrew, you’ll find that girly clothes don’t have all of the pockets that you’re used to, you need something to carry your wallet, keys and things. Here, take this.”
She handed me a patent leather handbag. It was a pretty bag with a glittery silver butterfly motif and a silver chain shoulder strap. There wasn’t much room but I tried to fit my wallet, keys and phone in.
“We are in a hurry up so let’s get going.”
She left me still floundering, trying to fit my male accessories into the unaccustomed handbag while she pulled on my coat, and open the front door.
“Come on Andrew, let’s get going. I’m the man, so I’ll drive, let me open the car door for you.”
She smiled broadly as she opened the passenger door for me to get into the car. I managed to totter out of the house in my four inch heels, clutching my handbag and got into the car. She closed the door, went round to the other side and got in.
“Don’t forget to fasten your seatbelt, dear. Are you comfortable there?”
I had never been more uncomfortable in my life, quite apart from the humiliation I felt that sitting in my own car wearing such incredibly feminine clothes. When Rachel first suggested the idea to make it had seemed like a good idea, but now, in the cold hard light of day wearing these ridiculous and uncomfortable garments, it did not seem so clever. I just gave her a snarling look by way of reply.
I have to admit that at the party outfits were a resounding success. Rachel made a damn good Charlie Chaplin and even if I say it myself, I was the very image of a sexy French maid, even catching the eye of two or three of my male colleagues before they were told that underneath the satin and lace was their workmate Andrew Moss. Rachel came over to me, with my line manager David Paterson in tow.
“Is everything okay, darling?” She asked. “It’s a great party, and several people said how fabulous you looked in the outfit. In fact I noticed a couple of the guys giving you the eye, and Laura from the IT Department told me she was going to ask that waitress to get her a drink. She meant you, isn’t that funny?”
“Oh yes, totally hilarious,” I replied. To be honest, I felt like a fish out of water. Somehow I couldn’t connect with the people I knew dressed like this and felt so embarrassed really to chat with anyone.
“Well, Andrew, I think you look totally gorgeous,” said David. “You going to dance with any of the guys if they ask you?” He smiled.
I looked him in the eye. “Fuck off, David” I said. To be honest, line manager or not, the guy had been getting on my nerves lately. I don’t know why, but somehow everything he said or did just rubs me up the wrong way.
“Oh dear,” he said. “I hope I haven’t upset our darling little French maid.”
I just glared at him, I really felt like punching his nose out of the back of his stupid, supercilious head. The problem was that dressed as a French maid in frilly clothes with high-heeled shoes it was virtually impossible to do anything very physical. Even though it was a party, I could have probably been sacked for the assault.
Rachel saved the day by dragging me away from the confrontation across to where some of our mutual acquaintances were chatting. She introduced me by saying “I don’t suppose you recognise this gorgeous young lady?” In fact a couple of heads shook and it was amusing to see their jaws drop when she told them who I was.
“My God, Andrew, you are absolutely fabulous. You are better looking as a girl than you ever were as the ugly bloke you are.” one of them laughed.
“Piss off, Colin,” I replied, but I was smiling and beginning to enjoy being with some of the nicer people who worked in my department. Colin Hall worked with me and we generally had a very friendly relationship, we frequently went for a lunchtime drink together and enjoy each other’s company.
“No, Andrew, I really mean it. You really do make a good-looking girl.”
It was strange but his comment was in some odd way slightly thrilling to hear. In fact, I was beginning to get used to the relentless pressure of the corset, which now felt almost comfortable, and could walk quite easily in my high-heeled shoes. Yes, it really was a thrill to be dressed and made up as a sexy girl. I wondered why I felt that way. Never mind, it was just for a night and life could get back to normal. I turned to speak to Rachel but once again she had disappeared and I couldn’t see her anywhere in the room. It was only later that I realised David Paterson was nowhere to be seen either.
I spent the next hour chatting with various people I knew, getting much more at ease and familiar with my costume. Twice I caught my reflection in a mirror and was startled to see how much I really resembled a female. Despite my embarrassment and humiliation I was beginning to enjoy dressing up. I relaxed and just enjoyed the party. Then everything changed. I was suddenly grabbed by the guy who worked in the next office, Alex Kellerman.
“Come on gorgeous, let’s have a dance.”
I did my best to resist him, didn’t he realise that “gorgeous” was in fact a bloke just as much as he was?
“No, no, for Christ’s sake leave me alone. It’s not what you think”
Alex was a big, beefy bloke and clearly had been drinking heavily. He totally ignored my protestations and I found myself dancing with him in the middle of the floor to a smoochy song that had started to play. I realised that if I tried to get away from him it could cause more trouble than it was worth, so I just swallowed the disgust I felt at dancing with a man and waited for it to end. Then the song did end and my world collapsed around me. Alex held me even more tightly and planted a huge kiss on my cherry red lips. I was stunned, I couldn’t breathe, it seemed to go on forever. Then he finally pulled away and over his shoulder I saw Rachel staring at me, with David Paterson standing next to her. Her face had a look of astonishment.
“Andrew,” she yelled, “what the hell are you doing?”
“Rachel,” I mumbled “it wasn’t my fault. He just grabbed me and I couldn’t get away.”
David Paterson’s sneering face it came into view. “Well, Andrew. It looked to me as if you were really enjoying it. I don’t think any of us knew you swung that way, although I have to admit the dress was something of a giveaway.”
That was it, I couldn’t stand it any more and I felt angry and jealous that he was spending time with Rachel, when I really thought she should have been enjoying the party with her husband. Despite the high heels, the corset and the frilly dress I just swung at him and caught him full in the face. My fist hit him with a loud whack and he flew over onto his back, his nose beginning to bleed profusely. There was a stunned silence, everyone stopped talking and looked at the incongruous sight of a frilly French maid standing over the man she had just floored. Paterson looked at me, his expression was one of fury made even more dramatic by the blood pouring out of his nose and down the front of his shirt.
“That’s it, Moss. You’re fired! You can get your arse out of this building now or I’ll call security. And don’t come back, you no longer have a job here.”
Although I had a deep sense of satisfaction that I had floored the nasty bastard, I had a sinking feeling that I had created a huge problem for myself and Rachel. I heard her pleading with David to not fire me.
“David, for God’s sake, you did wind him up a bit. Don’t you think you did have it coming, at least to some extent? Surely you can find some way to just forgive and forget, after all this is supposed to be a party. I think we’ve all had a little bit too much to drink and in the morning will all regret some of the things that happened here tonight.”
Heads were nodding in the room, clearly most people felt the same way.
“Rachel, for you, I’ll think about it over the weekend. I’ll let you know on Monday what my decision is, but in the meantime you can tell the French maid to stay away from this office until I have made a decision.”
His comment was so sneering I felt like taking another swing at him, but I knew it would really be the last straw if I did.
“Thanks, David,” she said. “I really appreciate that, we were having such a lovely time tonight, I wouldn’t want it to end. Would you?” She said to him meaningfully. He looked at her sharply, then nodded his head. “No, I suppose not, but I’m not making a final decision now, I’ll let you know on Monday. Now I have to go and get cleaned up. I suggest you take your maid home.” he snarled.
He got up off of the floor and left the room, heading for the staff restroom.
“Andrew, I think we’d better go before there is any more trouble, I’ll get your coat and handbag and we can go and find the car.”
She left to retrieve their things while I was left still standing in the middle of a circle of shocked and openmouthed colleagues.
“Well, I’m sorry I seem to have made a bit of a mess of the party,” I said. “Maybe next time I’ll come dressed as Elvis Presley or something a little bit less female.” I tried to make a joke of it, and was rewarded with a few smiles. As I was following Rachel out to the cloakroom Alex Kellerman came up to me with a sheepish look on his face.
“Andrew, I really am sorry I got you into trouble. You just look so tempting as a French maid I just didn’t realise that you were a bloke. I really do apologise.”
“That’s okay,” I said “just forget it. I think that Paterson had it coming to him anyway.”
“That’s true, yes he did. But Andrew, just one thing.” He paused and looked at me in a very peculiar way “Despite everything, I really meant it. Dressed like that you really do look gorgeous. If things were different...”
“Alex, I don’t know where you’re going with this, just shut up and leave me alone, we’re going home.”
Rachel helped me into her Burberry raincoat, fastening the buttons and belt and turning up the collar in that saucy way. She adjusted my maid’s cap, and smiled. I just gave her a hard look.
“Well,” she said, “you just look so cute like that, it’s a shame to ruin the effect. Do you want me to help you touch up your lipstick before we go?”
“Dammit Rachel,” I said, “now you’re making me really angry. This is your idea, it’s made me feel totally ridiculous and humiliated and my job is on the line. Just let it go.”
All she did was smile. “Have it your way, Andrew. Now let’s get to the car before you do any more damage.”
“Me?” I was almost lost for words. “It wasn’t me that caused the trouble...”
“No? She said. “I suppose it was someone else who punched David to the ground was it? I think you’ve got a lot of ground to make up and a lot of apologising to do. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy dressing up in that French maid’s outfit, I could see you admiring yourself in the mirror. Maybe it was my idea but you didn’t say no, did you? I only hope that David can be sufficiently forgiving to let you keep your job, God knows he is entitled to feel angry.”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t see why she seemed to be taking his side, so I just concentrated on walking in the ridiculous high heeled shoes and getting back to the car. Once again, she opened the passenger door for me and made sure that my seatbelt was fastened, treating me like a girl. Was she deliberately trying to humiliate me?
The weekend when very slowly. Rachel virtually refused to talk to me and gave me the silent treatment. I had no idea why, I had gone along with everything she wanted, dressed up as a French maid to go to the party which was entirely her idea and had only acted in a perfectly ordinary way when Dave became so obnoxious, especially when he tried to show me up standing next to my wife while I was wearing my frilly outfit. So I chose not to talk to her either and we spent two days in virtual silence. On Monday she went to work and I prepared to receive the verdict that David Paterson was about to hand down on the future of my job. Quite frankly, the financial industry was in a very precarious state. No one was hiring, every financial institution was laying off people as fast as possible. If I lost my job I knew that I had almost no place to go, and it rankled that I was almost totally in the power of a person that I detested so utterly. It made it even worse when Rachel refused to hear anything bad about Paterson, so that I felt totally let down by her and on my own. At lunchtime, the phone rang.
“Andrew?” I heard her asking “I’ve been talking to David about things, obviously the question of you continuing in employment at the bank.”
“Yes,” I asked, “so what is the verdict?”
“He’s very angry, Andrew. I’m really not sure if he’ll agree to keeping you on. I’m sure he will want to implement some kind of disciplinary measure for you assaulting him. If he does, I want you to just agree to it, don’t make matters worse by just getting angry and arguing with him. What ever he insists on, I want you to just do it. Ok?”
At least I was in with a chance, my spirits rose. “Rachel, of course I will. I think it’s all over the top, we just had a few drinks too many and he was pretty rude...”
“Andrew, for God’s sake no further the arguments and recriminations. If David lets you keep your job and doesn’t press the matter of the assault just agree with him and go along with whatever is said. No arguments, no recriminations!”
“Ok,” I replied “I’ll go along with whatever is said.”
“Anything?” asked Rachel “do you honestly mean that? Whatever he decides you will agree to and keep your job?”
“I promise”. I was so relieved to be in with a chance that I truly was prepared do anything, even if it meant half pay for a month or two or possibly a transfer to a different department.
“I have asked David to come for dinner this evening,” Rachel continued. “I want you to remember your promise and be on your best behaviour.”
“To dinner!” I spluttered. “You must be joking, you bring that bastard here and I’ll bend his nose in the opposite direction.”
“So is that what your promise means?” She asked. “You promise that you will do anything. I ask you to do one thing, to be polite to the guy that could sack you if he so chooses, and already you’re making threats. Is that how empty your promises are?”
Maybe she had a point, if I lost my job now we would be in deep trouble with our mortgage, which was insanely high, and far more than Rachel could pay if hers was the sole income that any length of time. I really didn’t have a choice.
“No, you’re right. If he comes here this evening to dinner I will be polite to him.”
The phone was quiet for a moment. Then I heard Rachel’s voice again.
“That’s fine then. Can you get something nice and cook it ready, get the table laid and a nice bottle of wine out of the fridge. I’ll be working a little late tonight so I’ll come back with David ready for dinner at about eight o’clock. Ok?”
I was absolutely livid, if Paterson came here for dinner I felt like shoving it right up his arse. But that of course would not help me keep my job. I forced myself to be calm.
“Yes Rachel, that’s okay, I’ll have it all ready for eight o’clock.”
“That’s lovely Andrew, thanks very much, I’m sure everything will work out fine. See about eight. Bye.”
I heard a click as she put the phone down, then I put the phone down and thought about getting a meal ready for tonight. I briefly considered poisoned ground glass in David Paterson’s meal, then discounted it. I needed to keep my job, not earn a prison sentence for murder. So I had a look around the cupboards, got some steaks out of the freezer and began the preparations.
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It was a funny thing but in some way it took my mind off of the deeper problems to be rustling around the house and preparing a meal, albeit for somebody that I loathed and detested and had recently punched on the nose. By the time I heard the key in the door and Rachel walked in followed by David Paterson the table was laid, the meal was ready to serve and I had even opened a bottle of chilled wine which waited on the table. I greeted Rachel and gave her a kiss.
“Hi darling, had had a good day?”
“Yes, thanks,” she said “it was fine.” She looked around the room, clearly impressed by all of my preparations. “Gosh, you’ve done a lovely job here, I’m sure will have a nice evening.”
I doubted that, nodding a hello to the detestable figure of David Paterson.
“Hi David,” I said in a flat cold tone.
“Hello, Andrew” he said. “nice to see you again.”
“And you,” I replied, my tone leaving him in no doubt that it was anything but nice to see him. The only cause for satisfaction was seeing the bruise on his nose where I had punched him. I managed not to smile at that, that it did take some considerable effort.
“Darling,” Rachel said to me “I’ve got some news. David put in a recommendation for me and I managed to get promoted to section manager, effective immediately. Isn’t that wonderful?”
It was good news, and I congratulated my wife, totally ignoring David.
“That’s excellent darling, we could certainly do with some more money coming into the house. And what about the other matter?”
I turned to look at David. “Well, David, what’s going to happen? Are you sacking me or not?”
He smiled. “I decided for the time being to keep you on open suspension while I consider whether to take any action or not.”
“And how long will that take before you make your decision?”
“That depends on you, Andrew. You humiliated me at the party, if you really wish to make amends I want a quid pro quo. Otherwise you can find yourself somewhere else to work.”
“A quid pro quo? What the hell does that mean?”
He looked at Rachel. “I think it might be better if you explain it to him, Rachel.”
She nodded. “Fair enough, David. Andrew, could you go upstairs with me and I’ll explain to you what David has said to me.”
I was boiling with anger at what seemed to be some kind of collusion between my wife and the odious David Paterson, but truthfully I was in enough trouble and it was and I went quietly upstairs with her to hear what she had to say. We went into the bedroom so that we were out of earshot from David.
“The thing is, Andrew, you really did hurt and humiliate David at the party. It may sound silly but what he is looking for from you is a kind of forfeit.”
“A forfeit? What the hell do you mean, I’ve got a decent meal for the bastard in my own home, isn’t that forfeit the enough?”
Well, yes and no,” she said. “The thing is if he is going to be persuaded to look favourably on the question of whether or not you’re sacked, he is insisting that you suffer a similar humiliation as he did by putting the French maids outfit back on for dinner tonight. I really and honestly don’t think that’s much to ask.”
I was totally staggered. A fancy dress party was one thing, but dressing up in a girlie costume just because an arrogant son of a bitch insisted on it was totally out of order. “Absolutely not, Rachel, no way! If that’s what he wants he can go and stuff himself.”
“Oh, Andrew, I knew you’d take it all wrong. Look we are in serious financial trouble if you lose your job, would you just do it to me just this once to keep him happy. I know it’s ridiculous and the silly thing to ask, but you did dress up in it for the party so it’s nothing that you haven’t done before. Please, you said that you honestly would go along with whatever was said. Does this mean that you’re not going to keep your promise?”
I thought for a moment. I was in deep shit, whichever way I jumped I was going to be in a bad situation. If I didn’t dress up I would probably lose my job and upset Rachel, if I did dress up it was going to be one humiliating evening.
“Andrew, please, just this once.” she begged.
I didn’t seem to have anywhere to run. “Ok, I’ll do it,” I said.
Half an hour later I was tripping carefully down the stairs in my high-heeled shoes. Then I entered the lounge in a rustle of petticoats and satin. Once again Rachel had made up my face and applied the crimson lipstick. I was incredibly uncomfortable, she seemed to have fastened my corset even tighter than last Friday, every breath was an effort to make. I was burning with shame and humiliation, but did my utmost not to show it to either of them.
David looked at me, but knew better than to break into a broad smile, the last time he did that I flattened his nose. I knew however that inside he was creased up with laughter.
“Andrew, would you please observe the dinner table. Why have you laid the table for three?”
“For three? Well, there are three of us, Rachel.”
“No, Andrew, just two of us and our maid to serve. Now please clear away the extra place setting and carry on with serving the meal.”
I almost walked off! This was too much, being ordered around in my own home by my own wife and treated as a mere maid in front of a man I detested. But she gave me an extremely strong look and the warning in her eyes was eloquent. My future, indeed our future, was balanced on a knife edge and if I didn’t get this right tonight things could get very rocky indeed. I cleared away the extra place setting and went into the kitchen.
Throughout the meal I did as instructed, standing in the corner of the room waiting to be summoned by either of them to serve all clear away. Occasionally I topped up their wine glasses and it was only with an enormous effort and I managed not to spit into Patterson’s glass. When it was all finished I served coffee and eventually breathed a sigh of relief when David got up to leave.
“Andrew, would you bring in David’s coat for him please and helped him into it?”
I nodded and went to fetch the garment in question. I check to see that no one was looking, then dropped it on the floor and trod on it a few times, then picked it up and took it to David and helped him on with it. Choking with rage I opened the front door for him and he kissed Rachel on the cheek, said goodnight, nodded to me with a smile and left. I shut the door, managing to stop myself from slamming it through the frame.
“What the hell, Rachel, I know that he wanted to humiliate me but you seemed to be on his side.”
“Oh, Andrew, don’t be so silly. One of the reasons that I got promotion was because of the good word that David put in for me. And don’t forget the reason for tonight, it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t punched him. So just behave yourself and be grateful that I’m trying to smooth things over for you. Be a good girl and clear the table and do the dishes, after all,” she smiled “you did agree to be the maid tonight, and your duties haven’t finished. Help yourself to my rubber gloves while you do the washing-up.”
I was so angry, but I suppose she had a point so I went and cleared the table and carried on doing the dishes. When I had finished I went and joined her in the lounge.
“Rachel, I need to get out of these clothes, will you give me a hand?”
“But darling, I really like you wearing those clothes, just keep them on for a while longer.”
I agreed, and stayed dressed in my sexy French maids outfit for the remainder of the evening. Eventually we went up to bedroom and made love, but it was sex with a real difference, because Rachel insisted that I kept on my French maids outfit in bed. I had to admit that it was incredibly erotic, and it was almost with a sense of regret that I got her to help me take off the dress and the laces on my corset so that I could be free of the constricting feminine outfit. Strangely, I had even got used to the corset and towards the end of the evening it no longer felt uncomfortable.
Just before I went to sleep I heard her voice. “Andrew, will you do something for me?”
Drowsy and sated with the unusually erotic sex I replied “Yes, of course. What do you want me to do?”
“Well, you really do look so girly in your French maid’s outfit, I find it a real turn on. If I ask you to dress up occasionally, will you do it for me?” On the edge of sleep, I still managed to feel a shiver of excitement at the thought of wearing that exotic and unfamiliar outfit again. “Yes, I will.”
“Promise?” she asked. “I promise.” I replied. Then I dropped off to sleep.
The next morning, Rachel went off to work as usual. I was left at home, wondering whether or not I would have a job in the future, hating the idea that such a total bastard as David Paterson had such power over me. As Rachel was working and I was not, I cleared up the house, made the beds and generally left things fairly tidy. Then, having nothing else to do I switched on my computer and spent most of the morning surfing the net. I spent a lot of time looking at job search websites, hoping to find something to help me out of my dilemma. Then I had lunch, cleared up and walked into town which was about two miles away. I went into a total of five different staff recruitment agencies and filled in their registration forms, but none of them were especially optimistic about jobs in the financial sector in the current climate. I bought a paper with several recruitment pages in it and took it home to go over the job adverts with a fine toothcomb. The answer was the same. Nothing! Rachel came home from work and got pretty upset about the fact that I had not prepared a meal for her.
“For God’s sake, Andrew, you’ve been home all day doing almost nothing, while I’ve been at work slogging away at my new job. You didn’t even ask me how it went.” Damn, I had clean forgotten her promotion. “I’m sorry, darling. How did it go today?” “It went fine thanks, to be honest I quite enjoyed it.”
“That’s great,” I replied, “who do you work with now?”
She looked at me a little strangely. Was that a guilty look or was I just imagining it? “Well, most of the time the job involves working quite closely with David Paterson on a new development phase that the bank is keen to see implemented shortly.”
“You didn’t tell me that you would be working with him. Christ, Rachel, whose side are you on? The guy is an absolute swine. Don’t you realise how much he hates me?”
She snorted. “Andrew, I think the boot is on the other foot. As I recall, it was you that floored him at the party, not vice versa. Besides, he doesn’t hate you, the truth is that you hate him and would find any excuse to run him down or even hit him given half a chance. I really think that you should relook at your own attitude, you are the architect of your own misfortune. Anyway,” she smiled, “let’s not argue, it’s the end of my first day and I want to just enjoy being with you.”
What can I say, maybe she was right, perhaps I was overreacting.
“Fair enough, I am sorry if I’ve been a little bit difficult. How can I make amends, what can I do for you, my hard-working wife?” I smiled at her.
“Well, she replied, do you remember last night you said you would dress up for me in your French maid’s outfit if I asked you?” For God’s sake, it always came back to that bloody fancy dress.
“Are you serious? Haven’t we had enough trouble over that blasted French maid’s dress? Can’t you just think of something else?” She began to look angry.
“You promised you would if I asked you, Andrew, it’s a very little thing, can’t you just do it to me?”
I reluctantly agreed, and was almost frogmarched up to our bedroom where I was imprisoned in the satin corset, the laces again pulled agonisingly tight. She insisted that I put the rest of the clothes on myself, so I pulled on the fishnet stockings, fasten them to my suspenders and pulled the frilly petticoats and satin dress over my head. I fastened the lace cap to my hair and set my feet into the high heeled shoes just as Rachel came back into the bedroom.
“Oh very nice dear, you look lovely in that outfit. I want to show you how to do your makeup, sit down in front of the dressing table and we’ll get started. I sat down and spent the next half-hour being shown how to apply a range of powders and creams, glue on false eyelashes and apply the crimson lipstick. Rachel pronounced herself satisfied.
“You look lovely, let’s go downstairs and get moving. Don’t forget your gloves, dear,” she smiled.
I pulled on the long black opera gloves and surveyed myself in the full-length mirror set into our wardrobe. She was right, I did look pretty good, pretty sexy. It was a pity that the party had not been more successful.
When I got downstairs Rachel was waiting for me.
“You look lovely dear,” she smiled “really lovely. Now look, it’s getting late and I’m really starving, will you hurry up and get dinner ready.”
“But Rachel,” I shouted “I thought that was just a one-off to appease your friend David Paterson. Surely you don’t expect me to cook your dinner every evening, let alone dressed like this?”
“Yes, Andrew I do,” she said. “You said you would do anything for me and this is what I’m asking you to do. Now please, I’m really tired I’ve had a hard day and I’m hungry. Would you just hurry up and find something that you can cook for me to eat. Honestly, Andrew, it’s the least you can do. Besides, you do make a lovely maid. Now get moving.” she snarled as she swept out of the room. I heard her shout, “Don’t forget to put on your rubber gloves in the kitchen, I don’t want you messing up those opera gloves.”
I quietly pulled the rubber gloves on over my opera gloves and hunted for some food to make into a meal. An hour later, I had laid the table for two and served it up, spaghetti bolognese.
As I sat down to eat it Rachel looked at me sharply.
“Andrew, stand up for me.” I stood up, perplexed.
“You didn’t do the cooking in the white satin apron, surely? It’s covered with specks of sauce. Look at it!”
I looked down. Sure enough, the white, frilly satin apron had become covered with brown specks of bolognese sauce. “I’m sorry, Rachel.”
“Well, you can’t leave it like that. Take it off and rinse out the stains with some soap. Hang it up to dry, then put on another apron, you don’t want to mess up your dress, do you?”
I mumbled a reply and slunk off to do her bidding. I found another apron to wear, a long, floral pink PVC wraparound apron that belonged to Rachel. I fastened the tape around my back and went back to eat my dinner.
Rachel had finished hers. “The apron looks very nice dear, lovely. The floral pink looks really nice on you.”
Her voice was neutral, but surely she was being funny? “What have you made for a second course, Andrew?”
A second course? I had been scrubbing away trying to clean up my French maid’s apron, so far I hadn’t even eaten my first course which now looked as if it was almost cold.
“Don’t you think you are jumping the gun a bit, Rachel? I’d like to eat my dinner if you don’t mind.”
She looked angry. “Andrew, you promised you would do this for me, now it seems to me that you’re trying to break your promise that every opportunity. You said you would dress up as my maid. What’s it going to be, Andrew, will you keep your promise or not?”
“Your maid? I thought all I agreed to was to dress up as a French maid.”
Her face reddened. “You’re just splitting hairs, you’re my husband, if you dress up as a maid showing that makes you my maid. Are you going to get my pudding or is this going to develop into a full-scale row? I’ve got a hell of a headache and I’m facing a long day tomorrow at work.” She looked at me challengingly, as if to say “and you’re not facing a long day tomorrow at work!”
I knew when I was beaten. I got up, went out into the kitchen and opened a tin of fruit which I served in a couple of bowls with a splodge of cream on top. It looked ok to me, so I took it in and gave it to her, then sat down and ate my dinner. We ate the meal in virtual silence, clearly she was still angry and I was smarting at the way she was treating me, almost like a bloody servant. Afterwards, I cleared the table and went into the kitchen to clear everything away. I heard her call to remind me about wearing rubber gloves to clear up and was tempted not to, but things were bad enough so I pulled the gloves on and went to work. To be fair, everything calmed down after that and we sat together to watch the late-night film. I felt even more silly because she wouldn’t let me remove the floral pink apron, the PVC crackled every time I moved but I just put up with it. It was worth it, because when we went to bed once again we had terrific sex, she seemed more energised and enthusiastic than ever. I did find the dressing up irritating but it certainly had its compensations!
For the next two weeks we seemed to settle into a routine, I spent the day looking for alternative jobs in case I was to lose my job at the bank. Each afternoon I strolled into town and did the rounds of the recruitment agencies, but after the first few visits I felt they were getting a little bit annoyed with me and that I was just wasting their time. Several days later, on a Friday, Rachel brought home the news that in fact there was “no news” about my suspension. Apparently it was open-ended and I just had to wait and see how things worked out. Rachel had been working later and later and not getting home until ten o’clock at night. As she wanted me to do, I spent the evenings dressed in my French maid’s outfit. I couldn’t fasten myself into the corset without help, so before she went to work each morning Rachel had helped me into it and dragged the laces very tight. Not only could I not get into it unaided, I could not of course get out of it unaided and, so I spent my days enduring the tight discomfort of the heavy garment. Fortunately, after the first few days I got used to it and even forgot that I was wearing it at times. Except, of course in the morning, when Rachel seemed to take such pride in pulling the laces ever tighter and tighter. Thankfully, the sex seemed to improve as much as my waist size decreased, so it did have it continued to have its compensations. On the Sunday night, however, Rachel decided to take things one step further and dropped her bombshell.
“Andrew, while you are waiting to hear about your job, you are enjoying your stint as a maid, aren’t you? It’s not all bad is it?” She said saucily.
To be honest, by now I had got so used to it that I didn’t really feel that humiliated. In fact my overriding feeling was one of expectation and anticipation of the terrific sex that we had been enjoying since Rachel had persuaded me to spend the evenings dressed as a French maid.
“No darling, it’s not bad at all, I love being your cute little French maid.” I meant it jokingly, my mind as usual was on the sex which lying as we were naked in bed was imminent.
“Well, would you do something else for me, something that would make me really happy and turn me on even more. Even better sex for both of us.”
What was I to say? After spending the last few evenings in a satin dress there couldn’t be anything worse she would want of me. “Of course I would, Rachel, no problems.”
“Do you really promise?” She asked.
I was trembling now with passion, waiting for her to just shut up so that we could get on with it. “Yes, I promise whenever you want.
“I want you to wear my clothes during the day when I’m at work. It would really turn me on to think of you here dressed like me, waiting to me to come home. You only need to change into your French maid’s outfit in the evenings.”
“What!” I shouted. “That is totally ridiculous. Surely you don’t expect me to go along with such a ridiculous idea?”
“Andrew,” she said as she pulled away from me slightly. “What I do expect is that a promise is a promise and when you make it, I want you to keep it.”
I lay there for a while thinking about what she was asking. To be honest, when I thought about it, I was wearing a corset in the daytime and the French maid’s outfit all evening, so maybe it wasn’t such a huge stretch to do what she wanted. Still, I wondered what it was that she wanted, what was behind her bizarre requests?
“Rachel, I honestly don’t understand you, what is it about me wearing girly clothes that you enjoy? Are you some kind of a lesbian or something?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “After all, it’s you I’m with, not some girl. It just does something for me that I can’t explain. Please, Andrew, it really is such a little thing, would you just do it for me?”
I thought for a moment. Well bugger it, in for a penny, in for a pound. It made her so happy and horny I would do it, and besides, once I went back to work it would all have to stop anyway.
“Ok then,” I heard myself saying, “if that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said. “That’s really lovely of you, you won’t regret it. The sex will be fantastic, I promise you,” she smiled.
Well, that night, I have to say she was right, the sex really was fantastic. Maybe she had a point!
The next morning I began to have second thoughts. When I got out of the shower Rachel reminded me of my promise and pointed me toward her wardrobe full of girly clothes.
“You can choose what you want, darling,” she smiled. “Make sure you pick out a nice pretty dress. First of all, let’s get you into your corset.”
I mumbled in agreement and stood still as she fitted it around me, as usual pulling the laces impossibly tight so that breathing became very difficult.
“I’ve got to get myself ready now, so finish getting dressed and get yourself made up. Make sure you do a good job, I shall be checking you before I go.” She smiled, but behind the smile I could see she meant to hold me to that promise. By now I was quite expert at pulling on the stockings and fastening them to my suspenders, then I put on my girly underwear. I had found some very pretty silk French knickers that were edged with very fine lace and embroidered with tiny rosebuds.
Finally, I pulled on my high-heeled shoes and sat at the dressing table to apply my makeup. Rachel came back into the bedroom.
“Still at it, darling? Hurry up and finish your face, I’ll help you to choose the rest. Oh, by the way, I got you this.”
She rummaged in a draw and pulled out a long black wig, which she held up to show me. “Isn’t this gorgeous, darling?”
The wig was beautiful. It had gentle curls and was so glossy I could almost see my reflection in it.
“Are sure I need all of that, Rachel?”
“Yes of course you do, I want you to look as nice as possible.” She came over to me and fitted the wig firmly over my head. Looking in the mirror, I thought to myself how convincing it made me look, almost totally woman.
Though she stood back to admire her handiwork. “Yes darling, you look quite pretty in that get up, I’m really impressed, you’ve done so well. Now, one last thing. Close your eyes, I’ve got a real surprise for you. “
I did as I was told, and felt her hands fasting new garments to my chest.
“You can open your eyes now,” she said. I open my eyes and nearly fell off of the chair, she had fastened a bra on to my chest, but this was no ordinary bra, the cups were very padded so that it looked as if I had real tits. It was so pretty and matched the silk knickers.
“Rachel,” I said “Is this going a bit too far?”
“Not at all,” she replied, “I want you to look as convincing as possible, like a real woman. Oh for God’s sake, Andrew, it’s not as if anyone is going to see you, and even if they did, would it be better if you look like a real girl rather than a guy in a dress? The padded bra is a fantastic shape and no one would ever think that you were really a bloke. Now come on, I haven’t got all morning, I need to get to work. Find yourself one of my petticoats and a dress, get into them and come downstairs. Really, I think you’re just being silly. You promised to go along with my fantasy, you know how much it means to me, and it’s not as if you have anything else to do at the moment, so just get on with it.”
I went to her wardrobe and chose a rose pink floaty ethnic dress, together with a silky full length petticoat to go underneath it. I put them on and went downstairs.
“Rachel,” I called out “could you zip up my dress for me?”
“Of course darling, that’s a lovely choice.” She zipped me up, then said, “Go and look at yourself in the full-length mirror in the hall, I think you’ll be pleased.”
I walked into the hall and sure enough my reflection in the mirror was a very striking woman with long flowing black hair. I was both thrilled and alarmed at the same time to think that my physical appearance could be so feminine, it was quite worrying. The game was one thing, but I was a man and quite happy to stay that way.
Rachel came up behind me, “Yes I can see you admiring yourself, you look lovely. Now let me give you a kiss and I’ll get off to work, just a peck on the cheek is enough, I don’t want to smudge of lipstick,” she smiled.
“By the way, if there is any kind of emergency and you need to go out for anything, don’t forget you can borrow my Burberry mac and you can use the handbag I lent you for the party as well.”
“Hah,” I laughed. “Very funny, but I think I’d die before I went out of the house dressed like this.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “It’s up to you. Don’t forget to wear your apron for any dirty jobs. In fact, would you put it on now, that way I’ll know that you’ll keep my dress clean.” She waited while I fastened myself into the PVC floral apron. “Thank you, darling, now I must go, have a good day, bye.”
It felt strange dressed in these unfamiliar clothes, but I ignored it and just carried on with my daily routine. Still there was nothing new on the job front and I resigned myself to a long hard search before anything turned up. And there was always the possibility that I might get my suspension lifted and go back to my old job at the bank, so I didn’t feel too despondent. When it was time to prepare the dinner, I went upstairs and changed into the French maids outfit as Rachel had insisted upon. Then it was time to prepare the meal and wait for my wife to return. She came through the door at half past ten, I got the impression she had been drinking.
“Hello darling,” I said “did you have a good day?”
“Oh yes, it was good. How was yours?”
“Oh, fine, fine thanks. Can I serve up the dinner now, I’m absolutely starving and you must be too?”
“Yes that would be good,” she replied. I went off to serve the meal. During dinner she seemed much more animated than usual. I got the impression that having me at home dressed in her clothes was quite a turn on for her, even more so than when I just spent the evenings in the maid’s outfit. Eventually we went to bed, and as usual the sex seemed even more fantastic than ever.
“While you are not working Andrew, I want you to promise me that you’ll spend every day just as you did today. It’s just fantastic, I feel so happy and excited that you’ll do this for me.”
Naturally I agreed. Why not, it didn’t seem strange at all now, after all I had been dressing on and off in female clothes for several weeks and it didn’t seem that big a deal. In fact often I caught myself quite enjoying my new persona and the sex of course made it all worthwhile.
One last thing, darling,” she said. “You must admit that Andrew is not much of a girly name, can I call you something else while you are wearing female clothes?”
She was certainly a master of good timing, always putting her requests to me either when I was impossibly aroused or when I was totally relaxed in a kind of post coital stupor.
“I suppose so, what did you have in mind?”
“Well, as you are wearing my clothes, why can’t you borrow my middle name?”
“You mean Melissa?”
“Exactly yes, what do you think, my darling Melissa?”
As I had got into the habit of doing lately, I just agreed with her and then rolled over and went to sleep without thinking through any of the consequences. The next morning she fastened me into my corset and breathless as usual I put on the rest of my clothes, including the new wig. I made up my face and went down to begin the day, but it was to be the day with a slight difference.
“Good morning, Melissa darling,” Rachel greeted me. “You look absolutely lovely, radiant in fact. Thank you again for doing all this for me.”
Being called Melissa was strange, but what the hell, I didn’t look much like an Andrew so I just swallowed it and got on with it. She left for work, and as was becoming a habit I put on my floral PVC apron and rubber gloves and began to do the housework. Mid-morning, the phone rang. It was Rachel.
“Melissa darling,” she gushed, “how is it all going?”
“Ok,” I replied. “No problems at all.”
“That’s great. I want you to do something special for me.”
“I thought I was doing something special for you,” I replied.
“Oh you are darling, you are, you’re making me very happy. But it’s just one more thing, will you do it for me, I’ll think of something extra special for tonight?”
Her voice was very low, very sexy, very tempting. I felt the beginnings of desire for what promised to be tonight, when we got to bed.
“Yes, ok then, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to go into town and get some shopping, I put a list in your handbag before I left this morning and you’ll find some money in your purse.”
I felt as if I had been kicked in my guts. How the hell can I go out in public dressed like this? And what was she thinking of, clearly this had been preplanned.
“That’s ridiculous, Rachel, you know very well I couldn’t do that.”
“Melissa, you promised you would do anything I asked. Don’t be so childish about this, take a look in the mirror. You look just like an average girl. No one would ever notice anything different. Now you can borrow my Burberry mac and don’t forget to take your handbag. Just do it darling Melissa, I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.”