Chapter 320.

It was just as well he had agreed, because they had already decided he was going whether he wanted to or not, and the arrangements had already been made.  Clara had called Sasha to get the low down on his history, plus a few piccies, and the girls had spoken to Miss Taylor that morning.  She had snorted with laughter when she saw a picture of the boy they wanted to show and share. 
“Miss…no.  You mustn’t laugh,” said Clara, with mock dismay.  “Tim’s quite vain, and you’ll hurt his feelings.”
“That’s right,” added Maggie, with a wink.  “He thinks he’s super cute, and we want to keep it that way.  Anyway, this costume’s just temporary.  He’s training to be a lady’s maid.”
“A what?” 
“Yes, miss,” said Clara, “a proper maid.  He has a special pink latex uniform and he’s desperate to wear it again and get to work.  Isn’t it sweet?  My mum’s helping train him.  He’s only staying with us till Sunday, then he goes back to training school.”
And she gave Miss Taylor a brief resumé of Tim’s training and what she had understood about the reason he’d been allocated his current outfit.
“Well, well.  I must say this is more like it.  This will make the class sit up and take notice.  I’ll have to warn them not to start screaming with laughter.”
“Yes, please do that,” said Clara.  “We’ll aim to arrive about fifteen minutes after the start of afternoon school, so you’ll have time to explain.”
“Perfect!  Well, girls.  It looks like being a fun afternoon!”

Miss Taylor was as good as her word.  Once the class had settled after lunch, she called for quiet.
“Now girls, listen carefully.  I have something to tell you.  I hope you’ve all had a good chatter and a laugh at lunchtime, because you’re going to have to curb your natural exuberance for a while.  Let me explain.  Clara and Maggie have booked their show and share for this double lesson.”
“What are they going to show, miss?” asked a dark-haired girl in the front row.  (She was in the front row for a reason, and not by choice.)
“If you’ll allow me, Madeline, I’ll tell you.  They’re bringing a friend of theirs, a boy called Tim.  Now Tim is training to be a maid…”
“A what, miss?”
“Madeline!  Silence!  Just be quiet and listen.  As I said, Tim’s training to be a maid.  Yes, boys can be maids too…  And yes, I can see you’re all wondering…  Yes, eventually, when he qualifies, he’ll wear a proper maid’s uniform, with a little maid’s cap, ands a maid’s dress, and an apron…  Everything.  Now…  Shush, please.  Now…  Tim’s still in training, and until he passes the basic proficiency tests, he has to wear one of the special, er, trainee outfits…as you will see.  Now, listen all of you!  Madeline!  Behave please.”  She sighed.  “Now, this is important, so pay attention.  Madeline, how old are you?”
“Seventeen, miss.”
“Then stop behaving like a twelve-year-old, would you?  As I was saying, please treat Tim with the utmost respect.  I understand he’s a sensitive boy – stop smirking, Natalie! - and any negativity could be hurtful.  He actually needs a confidence boost, because what he’s trying to do requires a lot of courage.  It’s easy nowadays for girls to do jobs that used to be considered as boys’ only.  It’s a lot harder for a boy to do what has traditionally been a girl’s job.  Good – I’m glad you understand.  So I’m relying on you to make him feel relaxed and accepted.  Yes?  Good girls.  I trust you to be welcoming and warm, because I know you’re all mature adults.  Then you’ll be able to ask him any questions you want about his training.”
Steps were heard in the corridor.
“Ah, I think this is them now…”

Chapter 318.

ESDS divided their trainees into two streams, junior and senior.  The juniors – the likes of Darren and Philip – were selected on the basis of cuteness and willingness.  They received a narrow training.  Their function would be, principally, to skip around looking pretty, flicking furniture with their little feather dusters, opening doors, taking coats at parties, running simple errands, and so on.  They were little decorations, like tinsel on a Christmas tree, intended to do little more than provide a talking point for their mistresses and their friends – talk which often didn’t progress much past “ooh, isn’t he sweet…” or “where did you get him?  I want one of those…”  They had the gentlest of trainings, were rented out only to the kindest of mistresses, and in general revelled in the pretty outfits and the attention.  Some of them enjoyed themselves so much, that as they grew older they wanted to be taught all the appropriate skills, and to progress into the senior stream – which of course they were encouraged to do.  The seniors had a much more rigorous training, as Tim was discovering, and there was a significant drop-out rate.  The tough ones – Teri was a perfect example – took it in their stride, and became valued and sought-after maids.  Teri was professional, but was up for pretty much anything, which made him popular with single women and women who craved male company.  In between postings he received “extra training” from Nicola, the nature of which no-one cared to enquire into.  The seniors often tended to be fairly streetwise, and knew how to make the most of the perks that came with the job. 

So Tim was an exception.  A senior based on age, but naĂŻve, ruled by an innocent vanity, a desire to be liked, to elicit attention and praise.  From his first entry into The Pitt’s Wood ambit, his mentors  had made a point of complimenting him on his appearance, his good looks and his smart uniforms, and fostering his personal pride and exploiting his credulity, making him take people’s attraction, surprise, their smiles and laughter, as compliments, and as a cue to show off all the more.  Such flattery also served to tighten their grip on him, so that now it would never even occur to him to  question their authority, whether Miss Poole’s or the personnel of ESDS.

So perhaps the transfer to Shirley Foster had been the plan all along.  For her, he was ideal material.  Her methods could not have been more different from those at headquarters.  She didn’t issue orders, but taught him by working with him.  She’d do a load of washing, checking the garments with him to see if they needed a separate wash or a particular temperature.  She showed him how to iron, letting him take over more and more.  They cleaned together and chose cleaning materials, they cooked together, took it in turns to wait on each other or on Clara and Maggie, discussed etiquette, practised curtsies.  When Tim did something well, he got a cuddle.  Once Shirley would took him on her lap and stroked his hair as if her were a little kid.  Another time he got hugs from the girls.  She taught him trust, and from trust came confidence.  After only a few days, he had lost most of his nervousness, he was relaxed, and he was doing his chores with calm efficiency.  On Thursday morning, after he had served breakfast and was clearing the table, and Clara had left for school, he turned to Shirley.
“Miss?  Do you think I’m ready to have my maid’s uniform back yet?”
Shirley patted his cheek.
“I’ve already sent in an interim report, Mitzy.  Miss Sasha says, providing you complete the week satisfactorily and without incident, she’ll let you have it back at the weekend, and you’ll be allowed to stay till Sunday morning.
“Yippee!  Er, I mean, Thank you so much, Miss Shirley…”
“Tim – we should call you Tim until you’re officially a maid again - I’m really enjoying having you here.  You’re a pleasure to work with.  But this afternoon, I have to go to a meeting, so I’m handing you over to Clara and Maggie for obedience training.  You know what that is.  You follow their instructions willingly and promptly.  You mustn’t question or demur, or you will fail this vital element of the course, which means I’ll have to report it, and you’ll be sent straight back to ESDS as you are.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Absolutely, madam,” said Tim, confidently. 
“Good.  They’ll be back for lunch around twelve, so prepare some sandwiches – you know what they like – and wait on them in the kitchen.  When you’ve done the washing up and wiped the table, I’d like you to give their shoes a quick polish.  I noticed Clara’s were a bit scruffy when she left this morning.  Let me see, anything else…  I don’t think so.  Okay.  I’m going to get ready.  You should change as well – put on the outfit Sasha brought.  And let me see what you look like with your new shoulder bag and your outside boots.  Go on.  I’ll be down to check in ten minutes.”
“Yes, miss…   Of course…”

When she returned, Shirley threw up her hands in delight.
“My goodness, how smart you look!  You’d turn a few heads in the village, and no mistake.”
Tim blushed, and touched his cheeks, which had been burning ever since he’d changed.  He wanted to believe she meant that in the best possible way, but he suspected that this outfit, enhanced with accessories Sasha had brought, might possibly attract the wrong sort of attention…
“Surely you’re not shy!  From what I’ve heard from Sasha, you love showing off.  Aren’t you going to be principal pageboy at a big wedding in a few days?”
“Yes, madam…  I’ll have a really cool outfit, too…  I’m sorry, I can’t tell you about it…”
“Well, you look pretty cool now, I can tell you.”
“Do I, madam…?”  He looked at her doubtfully.
“Yes, you do.  Now I have to leave.  Have a good day.  The girls will have a surprise.  They’re going to love your new top.  I’ll see you this evening.”

Blunders and Mistakes

       Nate was first up and nervously began his presentation. He quickly got a couple of dates confused and omitted key details on his chosen alumna’s roles in the sorority’s traditions. Brianna interrupted him with a sigh, “That’s not accurate, Nate. Did you check your sources?” Then, she added sharply, “You lose two points for lack of accuracy.”
 
       As he continued, he was stopped again. Elise, sounding genuinely disappointed, posed the question, “Did you read anything outside the study booklet, Nate? These women are legends. You owe it to them to get the facts right!” Nate felt so exposed and vulnerable in his pretty tights and delicate blouse as his face turned red. He usually was prepared for his assignments, but they had been flooded with so many things so quickly that he hadn’t put in his normal effort… he hadn’t had time. To his dismay, he became strangely agitated under his confining dancer’s belt and tights as he got more flustered. He muttered a humiliated apology, but the damage was done; another point left the scoreboard. After another couple of minutes and more lost points, Nate’s presentation mercifully ended.

       Julian went after Nate. As he was speaking, it was clear from their body language that the Sisters were still unhappy. Julian glanced at Owen helplessly, feeling the pressure mounting as Tara interrupted, “Julian, you’re just reading straight from the booklet. Didn’t you dig up anything new? We expect more than just the basics.” Her tone was sharper now, and several sisters exchanged knowing glances. Julian shuffled his feet nervously, feeling his skirt rustle against his tights.

       As the flustered teen continued to stumble through his account of a famous alumna’s leadership, he next was interrupted by Brianna, who raised an eyebrow and asked, “Where did you even get that? That’s not in the notes.” Frustrated, she docked him a point. It would not be his last. He felt his face heat up.

       The boys quickly understood their efforts were missing the mark. Each presentation seemed thinner than the last, and the sisters’ polite smiles began to fade, replaced with looks of mild irritation.

       Owen was next, and he fared no better. His report was met with stony silence, until Tara finally broke it: “You know, a quick search would have told you so much more. This isn’t what Gamma Delta stands for.” The boys exchanged mortified glances.

       Standing red-faced and slightly rattled in his adorable study outfit, he got his notes jumbled up. Elise tapped the table impatiently, “Owen, this is Gamma Delta’s legacy. Where’s the passion? Where are the stories that set our alumnae apart?” The other sissified boys all shifted in their seats as the room grew quieter and more tense. 

       The sisters grew more demanding, their voices firm and their expressions stern. Madison stood up, folding her arms. “We expect you to care about this. To be part of Gamma Delta, you need to show respect for those who came before.” The boys’ unease grew as the authority in the sisters’ voices made their own shortcomings painfully obvious.

       Elise sighed, “Did any of you even try to dig a little deeper? This is your chance to show us you care about Gamma Delta’s legacy. Where are the stories, the interesting facts?” The feminized boys all flushed with embarrassment.

       Tara, arms folded, chimed in with a disappointed shake of her head. “You’re supposed to go beyond what’s in your booklets. Did you even look anything up on your own?”

       The sisters began docking points with increasing frequency. Milo’s segment on a celebrated Gamma Delta alumna contained only the most basic information, and Cassidy didn’t hesitate to announce, “Minus two for omitting any mention of her extensive scholarship work.”

       As their presentations limped to a close, the boys exchanged worried glances, realizing they’d woefully underestimated the task. Tara finally spoke with a disappointed shake of her head, “Next time, we want effort. We want depth. You owe it to the women who built Gamma Delta.”

       By the time the Alumna Spotlights were over, the damage was done. The Big Sisters made it clear that next time, they expected research, thoughtful preparation and a genuine appreciation for the traditions and stories that shaped Gamma Delta. The boys’ sorry record of points lost reflected the Sisters’ dissatisfaction. For the first time, they truly understood how easily their hard-earned points could fall away. It was becoming painfully clear that getting to 1000 would be daunting. The Little Darlings all sat meekly in their adorable study outfits and felt a sense of dread at whatever might come next.

thanks for sending this story back to the top.. turns me on remembering a scene i had with my Mistress..

Chapter 316.

Monday morning.  It had been a torrid night, the first for many days that Tim’s coc-k had been released from its confinement, and it had been celebrating its freedom.  His alarm went at seven.  He climbed out of bed and headed straight for the shower, which he took as cold as he could bear it.  Even so, he had to struggle to pack himself away into his little panties.  On went the tart costume, and he applied a little lip gloss and blusher as he had been taught.  His eyes looked tired, so he put a some eye drops to make them sparkle and applied a touch of mascara.  Doreen had unlocked his collar the night before, and now she arrived to lock it on again.
“There.  All done.  It really suits you, somehow.”
He gave her a look.
“Well, it does.  Don’t make a face.  It’s true.  You look like a little subbie girl, and that’s just perfect for you.”
“I don’t!”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Mitzy!”
“Sorry, miss…”
“You’d better not mess up today, you know that…”
“Yes, miss, I know…”
“Mrs Egerton isn’t the most patient of women…  You’re in danger of becoming employed by ESDSS instead of ESDS.”
“ESDSS?”
“Egerton’s Special Domestic Slut Services.  Look at yourself.  Dressed like that you could end up one of the top earners…”
Tim looked alarmed, then laughed nervously.
“There’s no such thing…”
“No?  I wouldn’t be too sure.  I’ve heard them talking – her and Lucille.  It’s kept very confidential.  Small circle.  I think Nicola’s part of it, too.  Just warning you, Mitzy…”

The idea was hardly reassuring.  Even so, Tim couldn’t bring himself to believe it.  They wouldn’t stoop that low, he said to himself.  I mean, a maid service is one thing…  It’s fine for boys to wear nice latex uniforms and be maids, isn’t it?   I didn’t realise how cool I could look…  Not as cool as I’ll look when I’m a pageboy – a real pageboy – at the wedding.  But cool enough.  All I want is to be really good at it, and work for ladies that really appreciate me.  I wouldn’t have to be down on my knees all the time, either…  Well, sometimes, obviously, but…  It makes me feel so good when they tell me how promising I am…  Priscilla said that, didn’t she?  She meant it too…  So they wouldn’t keep me dressed like this, would they?  Of course not…

Nevertheless he felt nervous for the rest of the morning.  And it was this that made him drop the elevenses tray.  Just when “mistress” had guests.  Not real guests, but Margaret and Nicola acting as guests.  He was mortified.
“Ladies…  I’m really, really sorry…  I’ll get it cleaned up at once.”
He dashed into the kitchen to fetch a bucket and cloths.  As he was wetting the cloths he heard murmuring from the living room.  He strained his ears.
“…send him to the annexe…”
“…depends what Cassandra decides….”
“….pretty cute in that outfit…put him in the special brochure…”
His hands were shaking as he placed the crockery carefully in the bucket and scrubbed away at the rug.  Nicola rose from the sofa and stood watching him.
“Mitzy…” she said, “after lunch you’ll have a couple of hours extra practice waiting on us.  Show us you can do it without dropping everything.  Lucille will come in and observe, so you need to be aware of your deportment as well.  Then I have an errand for you.”
“E-errand, miss?”
“Yes.  I want you to give someone a message.  Our next-door neighbour, Mrs Foster.”
“Mrs Foster…  Yes, miss.  Er…what is the message?”
“I want you to tell her you have a problem, and to thank her for agreeing to help.”
Tim looked up, not immediately understanding.
“Say it.  I have a problem…”
“I-I h-have a problem…”
“Good.  You remember the aitches.  Well done.  I have a problem.  Thank you for agreeing to help.”
“I have a problem…  Thank you for agreeing to help…”
“Excellent!  She’ll understand.  I spoke to her a few minutes ago.”

Tim finished cleaning the rug, had lunch, and returned at one.  His waiting training went off without a hitch, and Lucille complimented him on his deportment.  At just before three, Sasha called him over.
“You understand your errand?” asked Sasha.
“Y-yes…”
“Good there’s no more to be said.  Shirley Foster lives in the next house along.  Off you go, then.  Turn right out of the drive.”
“B-but…  Like this?”
“Of course, I told you,” said Priscilla.  “You’ll be able to wear your maid’s outfit as soon as we consider you have attained a suitable standard.”

After he had left the house, Sasha thought of something.
“That’s a point,” she said.  “He’ll need a change of clothes if he’s going to be there for a few days.  I’ll drop them off tonight on my way out.  We’ve got another slutty pink set in his size, I believe.”
“Oh, yes.  That one’s got a high-necked cropped top.  Actually it’ll be better.  More appropriate for wearing outside.”
And they giggled like schoolgirls.

They watched him make his way nervously to the end of the drive.  The road was a country lane with a narrow pavement running along the other side.  Tim didn’t know it, but Mrs Foster’s house, “The Birches”, was a good half mile away.  Priscilla looked at her watch.
“Three o’clock.  The girls will be coming out of the Margaret Sanger School any time now.”  She winked.  “That should be an interesting encounter…”