Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Recent Inactive Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on September 26, 2019, 12:48:16 PM
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Tom was at home waiting for his wife to return from work. They were due to attend a neighbour’s costume party that evening and he really just wanted a quiet night in. Since he’d lost his job he didn’t feel much like going out.
Like a lot of women, his wife loved costume parties. Like most men, he hated them but went along to humour his wife.
“Did you pick up your admiral costume today?” she asked him. He froze. “I thought you were picking it up!” She sighed. “For goodness sake, you had nothing else to do all day!” “Oh I don’t really want to go to be honest”, he protested. “So you deliberately ‘forgot’ to pick up your costume”, she concluded, hands on hips in annoyance. “No it wasn’t like that.”
“Well we are going. I’ve got my geisha costume and I’ve been looking forward to wearing it for ages. We can find you something upstairs.” Tom poured himself a whiskey while his wife rummaged in the closets. “Come up here!” she ordered. He took a big gulp of whiskey and went upstairs.
She was bent over a trunk. “There is this from last year’s drama society play!” She held up a French maid’s dress. “You’re kidding!” he laughed. But she stood up and examined the dress. “It was a bit big for me when I tried it so should fit you”, she insisted. “It’s a little short but not cut low – it needed to be reasonably respectable for a family show.”
“No way.” He knocked back the rest of the whiskey. “Have you any other ideas?” she enquired. He hadn’t. This was partly why he hated costume parties –he could never think of anything good. His wife had seen the admiral costume and that seemed like a good idea but that option was gone now.
Ann put the dress on the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt. “All right! All right!” The whiskey had loosened him up a bit. He took off his shirt. He pulled the dress on and zipped it up. He reached up under the dress, realizing that it had attached layers of petticoats and unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. “There!” he proclaimed, happy to do the minimum to comply.
“Oh no, no no!” Ann disagreed. “We’ll have to do better than that.” She went back to the trunk. “There’s a lot of stuff here from the play and last year’s panto.” She pulled out a pair of strap-on boobs. “Here they are!”
Tom’s jaw dropped. “Absolutely no way!” But she was already unzipping the dress. She insisted that he pull on the fake boobs and adjusted the straps so they were held tightly against his chest. “Come on! A bit of fun!” she joked.
Then she found a pair of underpants that had padding to give a big rounded bum and hips. “Perfect!” Tom was still feeling his padded bottom when she came to him with the black basque. “Really?” he resisted. “You need the suspender straps for your stockings”, she informed him as she pulled the bra cups up to support his boobs and hooked the strap at the back. He tried to reach back and undo the strap but she slapped his hands away.
Then she pulled a black stocking over her hand and pushed him down on the bed. She hooked the stocking over his foot and pulled it up his leg, taking care to make sure that the seam ran straight up the back. Then she attached the stocking top to the two suspender straps on that side. She repeated the procedure on the other side. “Nice! The stockings are just black enough to disguise your leg hair but we can still see the seams.”
He stood up feeling the stockings and suspenders stretch as he did so. “Now!” she declared and threw the dress over his head and zipped him in. She smiled at the way the padded bottom and hips made the petticoats and skirt stand out more. Tom was more preoccupied with the way his boobs pushed the front of the dress out beneath his nose.
Then he saw himself in the mirror. “Ah no! This is too much!” he protested. “No it’s lovely”, she insisted. “The dress is a little shorter on you but just about covers your stocking tops.” She returned to the trunk and retrieved a few accessories. She flapped out a pair of French knickers with alternating black and white lace across the seat. “Mary didn’t wear these for the play but I think you need them”, she tittered. “You can’t be showing off those padded underpants.”
Once again she ignored his protests and pulled the frilly knickers up under his petticoats and over his padded bottom. Then she took the snow white apron and tied it around his waist. It had an upper part like a bib which she pulled up and threw a pair of lace trimmed straps over his shoulders and crossed them at the back, tying them in a neat bow.
“Now make-up!” She declared. Tom sighed heavily. She pulled a thin tight cap over his hair. She started spreading foundation all over his face. He had no idea how make-up worked despite having lived with her for ten years. He knew about the obvious things like lipstick and eye-shadow of course but the rest was a mystery and he sat there letting her do whatever needed to be done.
She drew two dark arched eyebrows and then used eyeliner under his eyes finishing with a little swoosh at the side. Then she brushed on silver sparkly eyeshadow. He watched with interest as she took out a pair of false eyelashes. She applied something that looked like – and actually was – glue. “Will I be able to get that off tomorrow?” he asked, searching for reasons not to get so made up. “Of course silly!” she assured him as she pressed the eyelash over his left eye. Then the right eye. He blinked as he felt the weight of his false eyelashes and he could see them right at the top of his vision.
Then she applied bright red lipstick and clipped dangling silver earrings on his lobes. She returned to the trunk and took out a brunette wig wrapped in a net. When she removed the net it opened out into a shoulder length wig.
It fitted nicely over his wig cap. She tugged it this way and that before attached three clips at the back and either side to the wig cap. “There!” she said as she brushed the remaining tangles out. He was about to stand up and go over to the full length mirror. “No, stay there”, she insisted. She went to the trunk again. She found a large pair of high heels. He hoped desperately that they wouldn’t fit his size 10s but if anything they were slightly loose. Ann buckled the straps around his ankles. She reached for the remaining accessories – a frilly lace head band and white fingerless gloves with lace at the wrist. Then she pressed a feather duster into his hands.
She helped him up and he staggered over to the mirror in the heels. She was pleased with the results. He was astonished. He was still obviously a bloke in drag but the drag was very impressive. He blinked his false eyelashes in amazement. But then realized that this was ridiculous. “This is WAY too much!” he insisted. “No you look fantastic!” He sighed. He didn’t like that he looked too good. He wanted something much less fussy –just a dress and a bit of lipstick and blush or something.
“We have to be there in 10 minutes!” she told him, implying that there was no time for anything else. “Luckily I did my make-up already and just have to get dressed. You can practice walking in those heels. Luckily it is just down the road.”
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Oh it looks like the lazy out of work husband may now have a new position in the household after the party. Can not wait.
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DaraJaney,
This is a nice first chapter. I'm eager to read the next one.
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You amaze me! Two awesome stories at once. Many thanks.
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Costume Solution by DaraJaney
From his first faltering steps Tom couldn’t see how he could walk out of the room let alone down the street but he improved slightly with practice. As Ann chose a bag to match her outfit, he stood in front of the mirror again. He couldn’t believe that he was about to go out in a short French maid outfit, stockings and suspenders, high heels and fully made-up. Then he remembered his frilly knickers. When he walked his petticoats fluttered giving glimpses of his stocking tops. He realized that he was bound to flash his frilly knickers at some point. “No it’s too much!” he insisted. But she grabbed his elbow and tugged him to the door.
He clutched the banister as he went down the stairs. His petticoats fluttered and he tried to smooth them down with the hand that was clutching his feather duster. Ann scooted down in her flat shoes and looked up from the bottom. He saw her look under his dress and she put her hand to her mouth to stifle the snigger. He knew she must have seen his frilly panties under his dress from the bottom of the stairs. He tried to remember if their guest’s house had a downstairs loo.
There was some resistance when she opened the front door but he had to accept that there was no alternative now. He balked when he felt the cool wind circulating under his petticoats and around the bare skin between his panties and stockings. He looked back. Ann was double locking the front door and she popped the keys in her purse. He realized he had no keys with him. There was no way she was letting him back in so he reluctantly followed her down the drive.
It had only a little slope but forced him to totter down quickly in his high heels, his toes being pressed into the front of his shoes. He winced. Ann smiled recognizing the feeling but she marched on.
Tom cringed as he saw all the cars outside the Hatches house. There was lots of chattering within. Ann pressed the doorbell and he realized that there was absolutely no going back now. Andrea Hatch opened the door. She was wearing a twenties outfit. “Ann, you look darling!” Then she looked Tom up and down, knowing that it should be Tom but not quite sure. “Tom?” Ann burst out laughing. “Isn’t he a doll?” she said stepping into the house. Andrea stepped back, still glaring at Tom open-mouthed. He stepped in from the outside gratefully but it just meant he had to face the mob. “Wow! ” was all she could manage.
Ann strode immediately towards the lounge where all the guests were gathered. Tom scampered after her. There was nothing for it but to brazen it out. He flounced into the room waving his feather duster in as camp a fashion as he could manage. There was sudden silence. Ann stood aside to allow all the attention to focus on Tom. Not knowing what else to do as the centre of attention he did his best to imitate a curtsey, holding his petticoats out and bending his knee a little. He had to make them think he was fine with this.
There was great laughter. All the women gushed over his appearance and thought it was fantastic. Ann was clearly pleased with her creation. The men looked at each other and raised eyebrows wondering was Tom more than a little too keen.
“What will you have to drink?” Andrea asked them. Then she remembered. “You won’t believe this but one of my two regular catering ladies was taken to hospital this afternoon. Poor Maura is run off her feet!” Maura burst through the kitchen door with a tray of soups. “I hope they are not gone cold missus”, she apologized as she delivered them to the table. The guests all started to take their places.
Ann beamed. “Maybe Tom can help you! He’s appropriately attired”, she laughed. “Oh would he?” Andrea asked. “I can’t help and entertain guests at the same time.”
Ann warmed to the idea. “Of course he will, won’t you dear?” Tom couldn’t believe the turn of events. “Really?” He looked down at his French Maid outfit. He would be mortified of course but he couldn’t deny he was the most appropriately dressed of everyone there.
Andrea didn’t wait for confirmation. “Oh thank you!” She took his elbow and led him to the kitchen. He looked back over his shoulder hoping Ann would save him but she was laughing.
Maura handed him another tray of soup. He didn’t need to be told what needed to be done. He sighed heavily and tottered towards the door. It seemed to take him ages to reach the dining area, his high heels forcing him to take short little steps. There were cat calls and cheers when he walked in in his French maid outfit clutching the tray of soups.
He tried to look like he was having fun but he was really mortified. He started placing the soups in front of those who had empty places in front of them. As he bent slightly to place the third bowl down he felt a hand lift his petticoats. “Mary!” Ann scolded playfully. Mary, who recalled the costume she wore in the play, made a face and withdrew her hand. “Just wanted to know was he wearing the frilly knickers”, she explained. Ann winked at her. “No! Is he?” But Tom had moved on.
By the time he had distributed all the soups, some had finished theirs and Ann asked him to take them away. So he flounced off to the kitchen wondering when he was going to get his soup.
The next time Maura came out to collect bowls they saw Tom perched on a breakfast bar stool quickly scooping soup into his mouth. When he realised that he could be seen he pushed his petticoats down self-consciously but Ann could still see his stocking top and the button of his suspender strap.
He was soon scampering out with entrees. It was clear to him that he was going to have to pick at whatever he could in the kitchen as he was run off his feet. Andrea looked down at her empty glass. “Would you fetch the white wine from the fridge please dear?” Tom tottered off and returned with the bottle. He topped up Andrea’s drink. “Ann, do you need a top up?” “Yes please!” So Tom scampered around the table leaning in, topping up all the white wine glasses. “Would you be a darling and put the bottle back in the fridge? I’m afraid we don’t have any wine buckets”, Andrea asked him.
Back in the kitchen, he picked up a wine glass. “Ah-ah! Not while you are working”, Maura scolded. He sighed. She was probably right given how much walking he needed to do in these heels.
When he came to remove the dinner plates one had been pushed to the centre of the table and he instinctively leaned in to reach it. “Oh those frilly knickers!” a guest exclaimed. Tom stood up straight immediately but it was too late. Another lady had raised his petticoats to confirm it. He walked away tugging his petticoats from her fingers. He felt his face burning red.
As they finished desert, Andrea suggested “let’s go to the pub for one drink to give Maura a clear space to clean up.” They all heartily agreed with the suggestion. Tom emerged from the kitchen with an empty tray and started to clear plates onto it just as Ann was putting her coat on. “You will stay and help Maura?” He sighed but nodded. He frowned watching them all head off to the pub but tottered back to the kitchen with his tray of dirty places.
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DaraJaney,
Wow! 2 great stories at once!
This one really plays to my fantasies of being forced to dress as a French maid and serve people I know while being humiliated and exposing my stocking tops, garters, and frillies.
After this, will Tom be his wife's sissy housemaid and hired out to her friends?
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When they were all gone, he took his tray into the kitchen. He picked up a bottle of wine. It was empty. He tried a few of them before finding half a glass left in one. He poured it out and swigged it back. Maura smiled. “You deserve it! Thanks very much.” He shrugged. Half a glass of left-over wine for the maid!
“Would you start filling the dishwasher please? This will take at least a couple of loads.” He sighed and took a pile of plates over. He remembered to carefully bend his knees when putting things in the dishwasher not wanting to flash Maura with his frilly knickers. But it was awkward and slowed him up. Eventually he gave up and just bent over putting some bowls in. He heard a snort of laughter behind.
Maura looked at the dining room when the table was cleared. They had been messy eaters and there were scraps on the carpet which could easily get walked in. “Would you ever hoover the dining room?” she asked Tom. He was becoming used to following her orders. He clomped off to the utility closet and found a big vacuum cleaner on wheels. He tugged it to the dining room, plugged it in and started hoovering.
A few minutes later the group was coming back from the pub when they looked in the front window and saw Tom vacuuming in his high heels. His petticoats swayed as he moved back and forwards. The heels made him a good four inches taller so he had to lean down a little to hold the vacuum. The group outside could see his stocking tops and suspender straps. When he leaned over to move a chair they were treated to a glimpse of the lowest frill on his knickers.
They opened the door and quickly entered the dining room. Tom turned off the vacuum cleaner and saw them all standing there grinning at him. He looked down at his dress and apron and shifted in his high heels realizing what a sight he must be.
They all moved towards their seats and Tom heaved the vacuum cleaner back to the closet. He returned to the lounge to find Ann slumped in a big chair. “Oh love, would you make me a G and T please?” He turned towards the kitchen. “And me please”, Andrea called out. “In fact do all you ladies want one?” All six nodded. Tom sighed heavily and went towards the kitchen again. “There are limes in the front of the fridge”, Andrea called out.
Ten minutes later Tom returned with a tray of G and Ts, ice clinking in the glasses, slices of lime floating on top. He delivered each one carefully bending his knees. Just as he served the last one Maura called from the kitchen. “Could you empty the dishwasher please and load it again?” Tom scampered off. “A maid’s work is never done, cheers!” Ann teased as she took a very satisfying drink from her glass.
When they were putting on their coats Ann said to Mary “see you tomorrow night then for Bridge.” Mary looked up in concern. “Oh Maura is booked to do the food again tomorrow night.” She called the caterer from the kitchen. “Will your partner be better tomorrow?” Maura looked glum. “She phoned to say they are keeping her in for tests. I’m sorry but I think I’ll have to cancel tomorrow.”
“Oh no! I’ll never get somebody else at this late stage.” “Tom can help again I’m sure”, Ann ventured. Tom froze and looked at her. She laughed. “You don’t have to dress as a maid again!” “Oh do!” Mary said excitedly. “The bridge ladies would love it!” Ann was surprised by this but liked the idea. “That’s settled then! Maid Tom will be serving tomorrow night.” “What? No!” She strode off home. Tom scampered along after her in his high heels with his petticoats fluttering.
The next morning when Ann woke, Tom was nudging her as he always did when he wanted sex. She wasn’t in the mood and tried to think of a way of putting him off. “Only if you wear your maid’s uniform again tonight when you’re helping Maura!” That seemed to put him off initially but he eventually persisted. “Come on Love!” he tried to move his groin towards her bottom. She pulled away. “I told you! Only if you treat my friends to the maid again this evening.”
Tom knew from experience that there was no persuading her when she was in a mood like this. But he had an urgent need. She rolled over and he climbed on board, coaxed her playfully and twenty minutes later shot his load.
He pleaded and protested but Ann was insistent that the love making had been conditional and if he EVER wanted sex again, he had better play ball.
So Tom tottered down the road again that evening in the maid’s uniform, stocking and suspenders and high heels, fully made-up, clutching the feather duster. The ladies were delighted and enjoyed ordering Tom around and asking for extra ice in their drinks or accidentally dropping things on the floor and asking him to pick them up. Tom tried to do it all in as good humour as possible but was dying for the end of the evening.
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DaraJaney,
Thank you for that chapter.
It looks like Tom might now have a job working for Maura when any of his wife's friends have a get together.
I'm eager to read the next thing Tom has to endure.
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At the end of the evening Maura asked to talk to Ann and Tom. “You know Grange Hall? That big house on the outskirts of town?” They nodded. They’d never been there. It was a private house at the end of a very long driveway. “Well, Lady Upton runs murder mystery parties there and I do the catering for them. She runs them with a 50s theme which matches the décor of the house.”
“Well, I was telling her about my new helper the last couple of evenings and she said that she would love to have a French Maid on her staff for the parties – the customers would love it.” Ann looked at Tom and laughed. “Absolutely no way!” Tom assured them.
“She said that she had thought about hiring a maid/actress” Maura continued, “but she was concerned that in this day and age the women guests might think it’s an inappropriate depiction of a woman in a stereotypical role. And there was also some concern that the male guests might like it too much!”
Ann nodded in agreement. “I think she was probably right to be concerned.” “But if the maid was a guy in drag” Maura explained “then she wouldn’t have those concerns.” “I see” Ann responded. “Makes perfect sense actually.”
“She’s willing to pay well for it and I need the help with the catering”, Maura added. “No!” Tom insisted. “My maid career is over!” “Not so fast”, Ann countered. “You haven’t had a job in a year. You’re not turning down some nice earnings just like that. I can’t bank-roll your leisurely lifestyle indefinitely. What time do you need him to start?” Ann asked firmly.
Maura smiled. “About 2pm?” “He’ll be there!” Ann assured her as she strode off. “Oh and it’s a weekend thing and runs overnight into Sunday!” Maura added. “No problem!” Ann confirmed. Todd tried to scamper after her in his heels. “Wait! No! What? Overnight?”
Ann added various other threats to her usual withdrawal of sexual favours – ending his mobile phone contract, TV sports channel etc. So Tom had no choice really.
Ann went on a short shopping trip in the morning. She returned with six packs of stockings and knickers for Tom. “These stockings are great! They are fishnets but over an opaque tan base so you get the appearance of fishnets without having to shave your legs!” Tom raised his eyebrows ironically.
Then she opened the pack of knickers. “One black pair with black frills, one white pair with white frills, one black pair with white frills, one white pair with black frills, one black pair with black and white frills and one white pair with black and white frills! Which two would you like to wear this weekend?”
Tom didn’t want to play ball. “I don’t care.” “Right, I’ll choose so. The black pair with white frills today and the white pair with black frills for tomorrow.” Tom sighed.
“I’ll have to show you how to do the make-up because you’ll have to do it yourself tomorrow morning”, she told him. Tom couldn’t believe this was happening but it all became very real and she helped him dress in his maid’s outfit. He couldn’t believe he was again wearing the large panto boobs and bum padding.
The fishnet stockings had much more obvious seams that required a lot of work to get straight. He wished he could do without the awkward petticoats but they were stitched into the dress. The frilly apron which tied complicatedly at the back was difficult for him to get right.
Ann coached him through the make-up routine. It was a lot to absorb in a short time. He couldn’t believe how much stuff he had to bring in his overnight bag.
He particularly dreaded the high heels – his feet still ached from the previous night and it seemed to take forever to walk anywhere in them.
Finally, he was dressed and made-up and tottering towards the front door. This was the first time it was bright going outside in his maid outfit. He tried to scamper to the car as quickly as possible in the heels, not wanting the neighbours to think he was making a habit of this.
Soon he was whisked away out of town and up the long driveway to Grange Hall. He tottered up the steps to the front door and Ann rang the bell. She smiled looking him up and down as they waited for the door to be opened. Tom fussed as the breeze caused his dress to flutter up above his petticoats.
The door was opened by Maura. “Come in! Brilliant!” Lady Upton came along the hallway. “Welcome! My goodness. That outfit is just perfect!” Tom smiled awkwardly at the compliment. “It’s nice and short without being too risqué. The guests are going to love it!” Tom cringed at the thought.
“Well I’ll leave you to it!” Ann declared. “Oh, nearly forgot.” She reached into the overnight bag and pulled out the feather duster. They all tittered as Tom accepted it embarrassedly. “Have fun!” she shouted as she trotted down the steps.
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DaraJaney,
I think that great minds think alike - that was a great chapter with Maid Tom now having his third gig, and this one overnight with having to do his own makeup in the morning.
When it's time to go to bed, will Tom be in a lacy nightgown?
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Love it, showing more and more who is in charge, and now having to be a maid at another party. Hope he gets the odd grope, and yes a nightie to bed hopefully a short one.
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Maura went off to the kitchen to do her thing. Tom was left standing in front of Lady Upton. “So”, she started. “You are Fifi! How is your French?” Tom hadn’t realized that there was going to be a big emphasis here on the ‘French’ part. He looked uncertain how to respond. Lady Upton laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you know a few key phrases: Bonjour, tres bien, au revoir. The rest you can just do in an outrageous French accent!” “OK” was all the ultra-nervous Tom could say for now.
“That will be: ‘Oui Madame!’” She said it in a girlish sing-song voice. “Go on!” Tom responded “Oui Madame!” in as high a voice as he could manage. “In fact, you won’t need much more than that. As a maid you will speak only when spoken to and that will be your response to all my orders.” She smiled sweetly. When Tom said nothing she added “Understand?” He was about to say yes and then went “Oui Madame!”
“Now, let me see your curtsey.” Tom gave his little quick bob of a curtsey which had done so far. “Oh no, no, no! That will not do. You must hold out your petticoats either side daintily and drop lower than that.” She waited for him to try that.
Tom took the petticoats either side and raised them while he gave a better curtsey and bowed his head a little. “Better! We can work on that. You must curtsey when you enter a room and before you leave. And whenever you answer me or a guest. Understand?” “Oui Madame” Tom curtsied as he answered her. She smiled. “Tres bien!”
“So how about your walk?” she asked. “Go along the hallway there”, she ordered stepping back. Tom tried his most confident attempt at walking in high heels. He thought he wasn’t too bad after a couple of night’s practice.
“No you really need to think French Maid. You have to mince along with your hands bent outward at the wrist.” Tom tried to visualize French Maids he had seen. He minced back towards her and fluttered the feather duster a little in his right hand for effect. “Not bad! You have a couple of hours to practice before the guests arrive.” Tom winced. The guests. He hadn’t quite realized that he was going to have to act the French Maid so much. It was bad enough just dressing as a maid without that.
“Right. First of all Fifi, help me set the places for dinner.” He realized she was waiting for his response. “Oui Madame!” She frowned. “Curtsey!” “Oh, oui Madame.” Tom gave his best curtsey, remembering to hold his petticoats.
“The dining room is across the hallway at the end there on the left”, she told him, clearly waiting for him to lead the way. Tom forced a smile. “Oui Madame!” He curtsied and minced off towards the door, aware that she was following and, no doubt, watching his walk carefully.
“I expect those seams on your fishnet stockings to be ruler-straight at all times.” Tom was about to respond when he realized he would have to curtsey and could hardly do that walking away from her. So he stopped, turned, steadied himself on his high heels and curtsied “oui Madame”. She seemed pleased. He thought: all this curtseying is already getting tedious.
“The cutlery is there on the trolley. You can see a diagram there showing how to lay them out. Unfortunately, nobody knows how to do this anymore”, she sighed. “So you get started. I need to check something with Maura.” “Oui Madame!” Tom curtsied and minced towards the trolley.
Once Lady Upton had left the room, he relaxed visibly. He looked at the diagram and reproduced the layout for the first place. There seemed to be a dozen or so more required.
After a few minutes, he was walking towards the next place setting when he jumped on hearing “Fifi!” behind him. He turned around to see a stern looking Lady Upton. He curtsied “Madame?” “You must walk and act properly as a maid even when there is nobody in the room. You never know when a guest will walk in or meet you in the corridor. Understand?” “Oui Madame” a chastened Tom answered as he curtsied. He minced along to the next position.
The next time Lady Upton left the room he continued mincing about. Carefully placing the cutlery and doing everything in a very feminine way. He presumed that she would be back for another surprise inspection shortly.
Time went on and she didn’t reappear but he kept it up presuming that she was tempting him into being sloppy. She eventually returned to find him carefully mincing towards the trolley. He was pleased to have kept it up and avoided any further scolding. He cringed a little realizing that he was going to have to keep this up for the next 24 hours!
“Now when the couples arrive, you will greet them at the door. Let’s practice. Knock knock.” She mimed the action in mid air. Tom minced towards her invisible door and mimed opening it. He curtsied. “Bienvenue madame et monsieur.” “Not too bad”, she seemed grudgingly pleased.
“Then take their invitations and their coats and hang them in the closet there.” She looked at him for confirmation. Tom didn’t think he needed to mime it. He curtsied “oui Madame”. “And then lead them to the lounge where I will greet them.” She indicated that she wanted him to go through the paces. Tom minced off towards the lounge door. He realized that guests would take the opportunity to ogle his legs in fishnets and his fluttering petticoats which he couldn’t keep down as he was supposed to hold his arms and hands out daintily.
Lady Upton overtook him, which wasn’t hard as he minced along in his little steps, and she popped into the lounge and closed the door. Tom supposed he was supposed to knock which he did. “Enter!” Tom turned the handle which required him to bend over a little which he was concerned about –giving the guests a glimpse of his frilly knickers right from the off.
He entered the room. “Now announce the guests from the invitation cards.” Tom held up an imaginary card in his white-gloved hand. “Eh, Madame Taylor et Monsieur Taylor”, he improvised and then realized that he probably should curtsey.
They waited while the imaginary guests crossed the room. “Thank you Fifi!” Tom remembered he had been told to curtsey when entering or leaving a room so he curtsied yet again and exited. Outside he cringed. So much curtseying and mincing ahead for the next 24 hours!
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Oh it looks like the lady that is having the party is going to put poor Tom through his paces in being a proper French Maid...giggles.
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As the appointed arrival time approached, Lady Upton decided that Tom, or Fifi, needed one final uniform inspection. Tom stood to attention in the hallway. She tugged at his apron which had shifted a little to the left. She adjusted his headband backwards a little.
“Turn around!” “Oui Madame” Tom curtsied and turned. She tightened the straps on his apron, retied the bow at the back and ensured that the trailing apron strings formed a nice upside down V at the back. He froze as she lifted his petticoats a little at the back to tug on his stocking tops to make sure they were dead straight.
Then she lifted all the petticoat layers up at the back and he could feel her tug at the frills on his knickers to make sure they were all in neat lines. Tom cringed. She obviously expected his frilly knickers to be seen.
“You’ll do”, she concluded. Tom turned around to face her, relieved that his petticoats had been lowered. “Merci Madame!” he curtsied. He couldn’t believe that he was thanking her for making sure that he looked as pretty as possible as Fifi the French Maid but that is what things had come to.
The doorbell rang. Tom jumped. Lady Upton strode off to the lounge without a word. Tom steadied himself and took a deep breath. There was no going back now. He was to be Fifi the French Maid continuously until the guests left the following day.
He minced towards the door. Reached for the handle and braced himself. He opened it. A middle aged couple stood outside. Their eyebrows rose on seeing Tom. He gave his best curtsey. “Bienvenue Madame et Monsieur.” “Well hello”, the grinning lady responded and handed Tom the invitation card. “Merci!” He curtsied again and wondered did he really have to curtsey every time he spoke? It seemed to be what Lady Upton wanted.
“Your coats, s’il vous plait.” The couple shook off their coats and handed them to Tom. His hands were now full so he curtsied without holding out his petticoats. “Merci.” He tottered towards the closet and hung the coats in there before turning to face the couple again. “Follow me, s’il vous plait”, he curtsied before mincing off ahead of them towards the lounge.
As Tom leaned down to turn the door handle he wondered if his frilly knickers were visible or not. He couldn’t tell. He opened the door and tottered in.
“Madame et Monsieur Hackett!” Tom curtsied. Lady Upton came over and greeted them. “Thank you. That’s quite a welcome”, Mr Hackett told her, smirking in Tom’s direction.
“Drinks?” Lady Hackett asked. “Gin and tonics?” “Yes please!” they chorused and looked at Tom. “Fifi?” Lady Hackett ordered. Tom curtsied “oui Madame” and minced off towards the kitchen.
He returned with the three drinks on a tray, walking carefully in his high heels, trying not to spill the almost full glasses. He had to open the door with one hand while balancing the tray with the other, all much harder to do in four-inch heels. He scampered in, held the tray firmly as he executed a deep curtsey.
He scampered over to Mr Hackett and bent a little with the tray to allow him to take his drink. Then he tottered closer to Mrs Hackett and she took her drink. He then went over to Lady Upton. He wished that he could move in beside her to avoid having his back to the guests but she had a low table on one side and a pouf on the other. He had to bend a little with his back to the guests and there was little doubt that they would see at least the lowest frill on his knickers.
The drinks delivered, Tom was unsure what to do next. He walked off to the side and turned to face the group awaiting orders. “Thank you Fifi”, Lady Upton said which he took to be dismissal. He curtsied and minced off towards the door, relieved at not having to stand there in his heels.
Before he got to the door, the doorbell rang again. No rest for the wicked, he thought as he scampered towards the front door.
Five couples arrived in all. On a couple of occasions the doorbell rang again before he could fetch the drinks of the latest arrivals. He was happy about this as it meant one less trip downstairs to the kitchen in his heels.
When he had delivered the drinks to the final couple, he curtsied before leaving the room but Lady Upton interjected “Wait there for further orders Fifi.” So Tom sidled into the corner of the room and stood there with his white gloved hands resting on his petticoats to the side. Within a few minutes he wanted to shift the weight from one foot to the other to relieve the pain but he felt that Lady Upton was aware of every little movement he made so he stood there and grinned and bore it.
He was summoned for a couple more drinks orders. He actually felt relief now scampering up and down the stairs in his heels – it was better than standing on show in the room with the men stealing side glances at his fishnet stockings and managing to move behind him whenever they thought he might bend over a little.
When Maura rang the gong for dinner, Fifi went ahead and opened the door to the dining room. The first couple who entered said “Thank you Fifi.” Tom smiled shyly and curtsied. Then each couple after that thanked him and so having started it, he had to curtsey to each one. Lady Upton was grinning broadly as she followed the final couple. She waited until the last minute when Tom had clearly felt she wasn’t going to say anything. Then she said “Thank you Fifi”, and watched amusedly as Tom had to hurriedly turn and curtsey for her.
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This was a great chapter, with French maid Fifi having a lot of activity, but with dinner just starting, there will be a lot of mincing in high heels and curtsying ahead.
I'm looking forward to reading about Fifi serving dinner and the other tasks to follow.
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Love it Tom/Fifi having to learn and go through everything a maid does in greeting people. The embarrassment!
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So Tom/Fifi had to continuously scamper up and down the stairs between the kitchen and the dining room, mincing across to the table and trying not to bend over too much while laying plates in front of the guests. He tried to move as close to the table as possible so as to minimize the bending but that put him in easier reach. While placing a plate in front of one of the ladies he felt the frills on his knickers being tugged by her husband. “Ooh la la! Monsieur!” He slapped at the man’s hand and everyone laughed.
Tom flounced off to fetch the next tray of plates. To avoid more groping he had to stand a little further back from the table but that meant he had to bend over more and probably show more frilly knickers.
Finally all the plates were delivered. “Fifi, would you top up the wine glasses please?” Lady Upton ordered. “Oui Madame”, Tom curtsied and minced his way around the table bending in to fill up the glasses. Some of the men couldn’t take their eyes off the bulge of his large boobs as he leant in.
“Lady Upton, how long is it since your husband passed?” one of the ladies asked. “Ten years now. Fifi?” “Oui Madame?” Tom curtsied. “Would you fetch his photograph off the shelf there please?” “Oui Madame”. Tom curtsied and minced over to the shelves. The photo was on the third shelf up. He knew what was going to happen when he reached up for it. He found himself hoping that the seams on his fishnet stockings were still straight as he knew all eyes would be on him.
He reached up and his dress inevitably rode up too and he heard sniggering from the table, interrupted by a slapping sound. Tom minced over with the photograph and handed it to Lady Upton before resuming his round with the wine while the photo was passed around.
“Thank you dear, would you put it back?” Tom winced but curtsied “Oui Madame” and took a deep breath as he reached up to put the photo back.
He was kept on his feet all evening bringing plates back to the kitchen and returning with the next course, topping up the glasses etc. Maura in the kitchen was amused that he continued to mince around there even though there was little chance of guests being around. Lady Upton had trained him well!
He tried to follow the plot of the murder mystery that they were playing out but as he was only in the room half the time he missed a lot of the conversation. The guests mercifully retired to their rooms before midnight, all no doubt wondering if there would be a ‘murderer’ creeping around in the night.
Lady Upton addressed Tom before retiring herself. “Fifi! The guests will probably have a nice lie in on Sunday morning. Usually they don’t come down for breakfast before 9am. “Oui Madame” Tom curtsied, as she was still addressing him as the maid.
“But we have lots to do of course. You will bring my breakfast to my room at 7am.” “Oui Madame” Tom automatically curtsied but was wondering what time he needed to be up at to get dressed and do his make-up to serve her at 7am! “I will of course inspect your uniform and make-up at that time. I expect it to be tip-top!” “Oui Madam”, Tom curtsied nervously.
He scampered all the way up to the maid’s room in the attic and breathed a sigh of relief as he realized he could finally stop mincing around and kick his high heels off. It took several minutes for his feet to return to their normal shape.
He was similarly relieved to offload the weight of his boobs, remove the wig, peel off his false-eyelashes and wipe off the make-up. He opened the overnight bag and wasn’t surprised to see a pink nightie with matching panties staring out at him. He could practically hear Ann tittering. There was no way he was wearing those. He didn’t need to anyway. He could sleep commando.
Then he remembered that the bathroom was down on the guest floor and he still had to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. With a sigh he pulled the pink nightie on and stepped into the pink panties. He hastily pulled the wig on again and tiptoed down the stairs. He tugged the short hem of his nightie as he scampered as quietly as possible along the corridor and into the bathroom.
As he returned he heard a door open. He scampered up the stairs to his room as fast as possible. Entering the door he glimpsed a face looking up the stairs. Whoever it was they must have seen up his short nightie from there.
He quickly set the alarm for 5.30 and collapsed on the bed, desperate for as much sleep as he could get. He dozed off and then awoke suddenly realizing that he hadn’t removed his pink nightie and panties in his haste. He was afraid that if he had to get up and remove them now it would wake him up and he desperately needed sleep. He curled up in his pink nightie and nodded off again.
Being inexperienced at make-up, he was only just about ready by 7pm. He stood in front of the mirror and tugged his apron straight. He pushed his petticoats down as far as he could so they just about covered the tops of his fish-net stockings. He minced towards the mirror checking that he still had the walk to Lady Upton’s satisfaction.
He turned his back to the mirror and twisted to check the seams of his stockings. They seemed to be ok. A final brush at his wig and a test-fluttering of his eyelashes and he reckoned he had better go.
He had to totter down four flights in his high heels with his petticoats fluttering to fetch the tray with Lady Upton’s breakfast and then take it back up to the first floor. He steadied himself before balancing the tray on one hand and knocking on the door. “Entrée!” He opened the door, took the tray in both hands and tottered over to the bed. “Bonjour Madame!” he curtsied, feeling it was somewhat inadequate as he was unable to hold his petticoats out while holding the tray.
“Thank you”, Lady Upton held her arms back to allow Tom to place the tray on her lap. He stood back awaiting further orders. Lady Upton looked him up and down. “Adequate, I suppose”, she decided. “Merci Madame”, Tom curtsied. “Turn around.” “Oui Madame”, he curtsied again and stood with his back to her nervously.
He felt her fingers reach under the tops of his stocking and tug it a miniscule amount to one side. Then he felt his petticoats being raised at the back. He cringed. “Ah, white with black lace, very nice!”
“Have you had your breakfast?” she asked as she lowered his petticoats. Tom turned and curtsied “non Madame”. “Well go and get fed and then help Maura set up the breakfast room.” “Oui Madame”, he curtsied and minced off towards the door.
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Tom/Fifi is getting a full dose of being a sissy maid for the weekend. Wonder what else Lady Upton might have in store to embarrass the sissy. I love it.
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The guests all arrived at different times for breakfast, made a point of saying good morning to Fifi so that ‘she’ had to curtsey to them and respond “Bonjour madame et monsieur!” before scampering off to the kitchen to fetch their order.
Once he had cleared the breakfast room and helped Maura clean up in the kitchen there seemed to be relatively little for him to do. He thought that the worst was probably over. There was another call for a round of teas and coffees while the guests gathered in the lounge for the denouement. Tom stood discretely in the corner of the room observing as the murderer was revealed.
Then there was the matter of fetching the guests’ coats and bags. Tom had to scamper up and down the steps at the front of the house with his petticoats fluttering in the breeze. Lady Upton insisted on standing at the top of the steps to wave them off with Tom squirming at her side concerned that the guests could see up his petticoats from their position at the foot of the steps.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the final guests disappeared down the long drive. He relaxed a little and dropped the mincing walk. Before they closed the door he heard Ann’s car coming up towards the house. He was very relieved to see her.
Lady Upton was full of praise for Tom’s performance. He stood embarrassedly in his high heels and petticoats while she described how convincing he had been as a French Maid, flashing his knickers (Tom blushed) and serving the guests very well.
“We have another two groups coming during the week”, Lady Upton announced. Tom looked up suddenly with concern. “It would be great if Fifi could be here for them.” “No way! That’s it”, Tom insisted, pulling his lacey gloves off decisively. “Oh sweetie, you know I’m away on that business trip this week, so you are totally available to do it.” “What? No! I don’t want to.”
“Don’t be silly dear, you can’t turn down paid work.” She turned to Lady Upton. “Shall I pick him up on Friday?” “That would be fine dear.” “Wait. No!” Tom interjected desperately. Ann went down the steps to her car. Tom followed as quickly as he could. His petticoats parachuted around him as he descended the steps and he hesitated fatally frying to keep them down.
Ann climbed into the car. “See you Friday!” She quickly turned the ignition and shot off over the gravel. Tom couldn’t follow in his heels on such an uneven surface. He watched as the car drove down the long driveway. It looked a mile long. There was no way he could walk home in his heels and he wouldn’t fancy walking through the town in his French Maid’s outfit anyway and the only other clothes he had was his pink nightie!
He sighed. Lady Upton was turning to go in the door. He didn’t want to risk being left outside so he scampered up the steps and in the door. He couldn’t believe that he was going to have to do all this again tomorrow!
“Fifi!” “Oui Madame”, he automatically responded and curtsied. “We have a lot to do before the guests arrive tomorrow. First you will strip the bed linen in the guest rooms and bring it downstairs to the laundry room.” Tom’s jaw dropped. She clearly intended him to continue as the maid even while the guests were not present.
“Then you will dust and vacuum each room before making the beds with fresh linen.” There was no response from the shocked Tom. “Understand?” she asked crossly. “Oui Madame”, Tom curtsied instinctively. “The bathrooms you can clean tomorrow morning.” Tom’s whole body sagged at the thought of the work ahead.
“Do I really have to do all this as the maid?” he pleaded in his normal voice. “As long as you are dressed as Fifi then you will act as Fifi!”, she instructed him firmly. “I don’t want any slip-ups when the guests are around so you will stay in character.”
Tom cringed. But then curtsied “Oui Madame.” “You’d better get started then”, she told him. Tom minced towards the stairway and felt her eyes watching him all the way. He stripped the bed linen in one room and took it down two flights of stairs to the basement before returning to the next room. The fitted sheet snagged on the corner of the mattress of the four-post bed and he had to twist and lean in to tug it.
“Your seams have gone awry again Fifi!” he heard suddenly behind him. He quickly straightened up and turned to face Lady Hartley. He blushed realizing that his full frilly knickers must have been on show when he leant in. “Je m’excuse Madame”, he curtsied and scampered over to the mirror. As he reached up under his petticoats and tugged at the tops of his stockings she left the room again. Clearly he was going to have to stay on his best maid behaviour at all times.
When the bed linen had all been brought down to the laundry room, he then set about dusting. He scampered around the first room with his feather duster. Just as he was finished Lady Hartley came in and inspected his work as he stood nervously in his high-heels. “You need to reach right up to the tops of the window frames”, she criticized. She stood back to watch him do it.
Tom minced over to the window. He cringed knowing what was going to happen now but she was still watching to make sure he did it properly. Tom winced as he reached up as far as he could to dust the upper corners of the window frames and his dress rode up around him.
As if dusting the guest rooms wasn’t embarrassing enough, mincing around in four inch-heels vacuuming each room was just mortifying. Once again Lady Upton appeared at irregular intervals so Tom had to ensure that he kept up his feminine deportment while hauling the heavy vacuum cleaner around.
Then it was up and down the flights of stairs several times again taking the fresh sheets up and making the beds. Smoothing out the sheets required lots of bending over and there was no way Tom could maintain any modesty in this matter. He just had to accept that his frilly knickers would be on full show should Lady Upton walk in –which she frequently did.
It was 8pm before it was all done. “You may retire for the evening Fifi.” “Merci Madame”, Tom curtsied. “I’ll have breakfast in my room as usual at 7am.” Tom winced but quickly recovered and curtsied “Oui Madame!” There was not going to be much rest for him.
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There should be no rest for the sissy french maid. I see one thing coming from this paid work as a sissy maid, and that he will end up being a full time sissy maid for his wife when she gets back after the week.
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The next morning Tom brought Lady Upton her breakfast before embarking on the cleaning of half a dozen bathrooms. It was ridiculous having to scrub out baths and dust right up into the corners in his short maid’s dress, high heels and layers of petticoats but he had no choice really.
Then in the afternoon the guests started to arrive and Tom once again had the embarrassment of mincing around like a French Maid in front of an entirely new set of people, everyone conspiring to make him bend over and reach up as much as possible as well as scampering around in his high heels, petticoats fluttering.
The following morning Lady Upton instructed him to check if a window was open in one of the bedrooms as heavy rain had started outside. He assumed that there would be nobody in the room if she had asked him to go there but when he walked in the door a couple were standing either side of the bed and in the middle was a gun (presumably a fake gun).
The man immediately strode over towards the maid. “Oh dear, you shouldn’t have seen that”, he acted poorly. “Now we can’t let you go and tell everyone about the gun.” He cut off Tom’s route to the door. Tom played along. “Oh no monsieur, I saw nothing, I will say nothing!” “We can’t take that risk can we?” He moved towards Tom and over his shoulder Tom saw the lady moving towards him too.
The man pulled the belt off his dressing gown and proceeded to tie Tom’s hands together in front of him. The lady reached for a roll of duct tape, tore off a piece and pressed it over Tom’s mouth.
Tom dutifully whimpered through the tape while the man knotted the belt around his wrists. “We have to make sure she can’t leave the room.” He pushed Tom back towards the bed and the maid flopped down on the duvet in a flurry of petticoats. The lady tied his ankles together with another belt.
The man looked around the room and decided on something. He pulled Tom to his feet and looped a length of rope over his bound wrists. He threw the rope over the top of the frame of the four-poster bed and pulled Tom’s wrists up above his head and tied the rope to hold them there.
Tom continued to whimper pleadingly through his gag. He looked in the mirror. His dress had ridden up and the tops of his stockings and the suspender straps were fully visible as well as the first row of frills on his black knickers. He tugged down desperately on the ropes to no avail.
The couple stood back, looked him up and down and smiled. “Now let’s go down for coffee.” Tom whimpered as they left the room but they closed the door behind them and he heard them walk off down the corridor. He writhed, trying to pull his wrists and ankles free but they had done a good job. He sighed heavily and realized that he was stuck there until they freed him.
An hour went by before they returned. Tom whimpered again and twisted his wrists and ankles indicating that they were hurting. “Oh dear it’s not fair to keep Fifi standing in those heels for so long”, the lady sympathized. Tom was relieved as they untied him from the top of the bedframe.
But they made him lie down on the bed still gagged. They each tied one of his wrists to the top bedposts on opposite sides. Tom sighed as it was obvious they were not going to let him go. They went to the end of the bed as Tom tugged on the knots around his wrists. He was well held in place.
But then they took his ankles and drew them apart and tied them to the bottom bedposts so he was tied down in a spreadeagle position. Tom whimpered again through his gag. This was entirely unnecessary and as they stood smiling at the end of the bed he realized that they could see right up under his petticoats and his black frilly knickers must be entirely on view with his legs forced apart like that.
He pulled his wrists and ankles harder and whimpered louder but they just left the room and his head flopped back in frustration. Occasionally he heard others in the corridor but they never heard his whimpers.
It must have been another hour before he heard a large number of people coming down the corridor. “Sorry but we had to tie Fifi up in the bedroom to stop her giving us away!” Tom panicked now as it seemed that the entire cast was about to enter the room.
Sure enough they all walked in and stood around the bed looking down at a squirming Tom tied hand and foot to the four-poster, admiring his frilly underwear. Several conversations started up about how good the event had been. Lady Upton joined them and smiled down on Tom on the bed. He supposed he must have been deliberately sent up by her to be part of the plot.
After they had been chatting for a couple of minutes Tom started whimpering again. He tugged pointedly on his ropes to remind them that he needed freeing! But they just laughed and continued their conversations. Eventually somebody took pity on him and untied him.
“Ah Fifi!” Lady Upton noticed he was standing again. “Oui Madame”, Tom replied and curtsied before thinking that he was surely entitled to a few moments to recover. “Would you start fetching the coats and bringing the guests bags down to the front door?” “Oui Madame!” he curtsied again but just sighed at being pressed into service again so quickly.
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Interesting not what i was expecting, but very interested in seeing where our sissy maid fifi next step takes her.
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DaraJaney,
You are really pushing the right buttons with sissy maid Fifi in bondage.
I'm eager to read what happens next!
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When the last of the guests had been waved away on Tuesday afternoon, Lady Upton and Tom went back into the house. “So the next group arrives on Thursday”, she told him. Tom perked up. Wednesday off! “Tres bien Madame”, he curtsied.
“You’ll need to change the bed linen, do the dusting and hoovering and clean all of the bathrooms today”, she told him. “Oui Madame”, Tom curtsied automatically. But two thoughts occurred to him. What was the rush when they had until Thursday? And how was he going to do all that before bedtime today?
“That’s to leave tomorrow free”, she explained. “Oui Madame”, he curtsied again. OK. That was an upside. “Free to do the windows and scrub the floors”, she added. Tom winced but curtsied again “Oui Madame”. “I’ll give you your full instructions when you bring breakfast to me at 7am.” “Oui Madame”, he curtsied. All this curtseying was getting to be a real drag but she clearly expected it.
“So run along now and get started on the beds!” “Oui Madame” Tom curtsied and minced off towards the stairs, his cringing facial expression hidden from Lady Upton.
He knocked on the bedroom door at 7am sharp, minced across the room carrying the breakfast tray, placed it on her lap, stood back and curtsied. “Bonjour Madame!” Lady Upton donned her glasses and looked Tom up and down. He stood nervously, his limp wrists hovering over the ends of his petticoats, false eyelashes fluttering.
“Turn around!” “Oui Madame” he curtsied and turned so hurriedly his petticoats swished out. “Really! Those seams are not good enough!” He felt his petticoats being lifted at the back while she inspected his knickers and tugged to straighten his frills in a couple of places.
“Sort those seams out!” “Oui Madame”, he curtsied and minced over to the mirror. He couldn’t see anything wrong with the seams of his fishnet stockings but he dutifully adjusted his suspender straps, returned to her bedside and turned his back to her. “Very well. Here is your list of tasks for today”, she handed him an A4 sheet with a closely written list of jobs. He turned the sheet over desperately hoping it didn’t continue on the back but there was another half page. “Oui Madame” he curtsied.
He turned to leave the room. The message had been quite clear: standards will not be dropped today just because there were no guests around. He performed his best mince to the door, already felt his stockings tugging a little to one side. He cringed. Were his seams out of line again?
The windows in the main hallway were very tall and he needed a stepladder to reach the top panes. Needless to say, ascending and descending a stepladder was very precarious in high heels with no sight of the steps below billowing petticoats.
Tom was on the top step reaching up with his feather duster when he was startled by Lady Upton’s voice below. “When you have done the windows you can scrub the floor!” Tom instinctively tried to push down his petticoats but it was clearly pointless as she stood directly below him. “Oui Madame.” He thought the better of trying to curtsey while on the top step of the stepladder but still felt that it was all wrong.
He was on the top step at the next window when the doorbell rang. This was the first time that had happened when no guests were due but Tom assumed it was his duty to answer it.
He carefully worked his way down the steps and minced over to the door. Before opening it he checked in the hall mirror that his apron was straight, his petticoats unruffled and his lace hair band upright.
He opened the door. Two men in work clothes stood outside holding tool boxes. Tom was instantly mortified but his training took over. “Bonjour Messieurs!” He wasn’t sure if a maid should curtsey to workmen but he was almost unable to speak to anyone now without curtseying so he did.
The men were speechless on being presented with a French Maid in a very short and flouncy dress, fishnet stockings and high heels, brandishing a feather duster. Tom could see the thought occurring to them that this was a bloke in drag.
Lady Upton saved them all. “Ah very good, I need you to look at the central heating pipes here in the hallway.” Tom stepped back to allow the men enter. “Carry on Fifi!” Lady Upton ordered. “Oui Madame!” Tom curtsied and minced off towards the stepladder. “These pipes are making a terrible noise at nighttime”, Lady Upton directed the men.
Tom really did not want to ascend the stepladder with these men about and tried to take as long as he could in getting back to work. But it was clear that they were staying in the hallway. Tom cringed, took a deep breath and went back up the stepladder. He tried not to think of the view he was presenting to the men below.
They didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get their job done and Tom was on the last window when he heard “excuse me Miss Fifi!” below him. He was sure he also heard a stifled snigger. When he looked down the two men were diverting their gaze everywhere else in the room except looking up at the maid but he presumed that they had had a good look before calling to him.
“Oui Monsieur”, Tom replied and started to descend the steps trying not to allow his petticoats to parachute too much. When he was back on ground level the men allowed themselves to look at the maid again. “We’re done here but I think Lady Upton has another job for us.” “Wait here”, Tom told them and curtsied. He minced over to the drawing room and told Lady Upton she was wanted. She came out and led the men down to the kitchen.
So Tom’s next task was scrubbing the floor. He gave a heavy sigh as he headed to the utility room to fetch a basin, water and a scrubbing brush. Back up in the hallway he was trying to figure out how he could scrub the floor with minimal exposure of frilly knickers. He started by kneeling down with his back to the mirror and bending over to scrub. He looked over his shoulder as best he could in that position to see that the full seat of his knickers was visible, framed beautifully by the lace-trimmed layers of petticoats. There was no way to avoid it. He just had to do the job as quickly as possible.
He was in the centre of the main hall facing the front door scrubbing away when he heard Lady Upton right behind him say “that’s everything, thank you gentlemen!” Tom froze. There was little doubt that they all saw everything. He scrambled to his feet as fast as possible using the excuse of having to show the men to the front door.
When they had exited to a final curtsey from Fifi, he turned to mince back to his scrubbing brush. Lady Upton was staring at him. “You do realise that there is a long-handled scrubbing brush in the closet! No need to get down on your hands and knees!” Tom went bright red.
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Oh the humiliation not once but twice in this chapter, at the end there was a long handled scrub brush...giggles, but my question is are not sissy maids suppose to clean floors on their hands and knees?
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On Thursday morning Tom had to undergo a particularly close scrutiny from Lady Upton when he brought her 7am breakfast as there were guests arriving that day. She straightened his lace headband, fluffed up the lace trim on his apron, ensured each layer of his petticoat was separated to ensure maximum poufiness, checked his knickers and the seams on his stockings. She made him practice his curtseys and his deportment which she felt were getting a little sloppy.
Tom was well warned that he had to be on his best game, so when the guests arrived he gave them his best curtsey and minced daintily back and forth from the cloakroom. He had given up any thoughts of keeping his frilly knickers out of sight at this stage so duly leaned forward frequently and found that the guests enjoyed any wiggling of his bottom while doing so.
These guests seemed to particularly feed off his performance and he found himself ooh-lah-lahing and giggling and playfully slapping groping hands. The guests started taking photographs and insisted that Fifi be included looking suitably naughty for a French Maid. He was photographed flashing a glimpse of frilly knickers, waving his feather duster about, adjusting his stockings and putting his hand to his mouth in mock shock. Lady Upton looked at the photos on the digital camera and asked for copies to be sent to her.
The following day Tom was sent to a bedroom on some spurious errand and presumed he was being set up again. Sure enough when he entered the room there was a gun on the dressing table. He dutifully went “Ooh, laa, laa” and the couple insisted they had to tie FIfi up so she wouldn’t give them away.
They tied his hands behind his back and then his ankles together. A cloth was pushed into his mouth before it was taped over. The lady opened the large trunk under the window. Tom wasn’t sure he wanted to be put in that. He genuinely groaned protest through his gag but they lifted him into the trunk. They turned him onto his stomach and quickly hog-tied his ankles to his wrists. The lid was dropped before he could grumble anymore and he heard them leave the room.
He didn’t like this at all. There was no way his muffled groans would be heard outside the room. He was unable to knock on the side of the trunk or anything. He was completely silenced and immobilised. He could see gaps under the lid so wasn’t worried about suffocating.
He had no idea how much time passed. At some stage somebody came into the room. He groaned through his gag and wriggled as much as he could but they left again. He sighed heavily and twisted his wrists and ankles straining against his bonds but nothing was giving.
Eventually he heard them all enter the room and the lid was lifted and they all looked down on him hog-tied in the trunk amidst a flurry of petticoats but nobody seemed in a hurry to release him until his groaning grew very persistent.
He hardly had time to stretch his limbs again before he was required to carry cases downstairs, fetch the coats and wave the guests off while clutching his petticoats in the wind.
When Anna arrived, Mrs Upton was full of praise for his performances. She said he was becoming the perfect French Maid. This made Anna giggle and Tom blush.
“So with summer having arrived we are fully booked up for the next month and I’m confident we will continue to be for the two months after that”, Lady Upton told them. “Great!” Anna was pleased. “Well Tom will be happy to continue as Fifi I’m sure.” “No way! That’s it. A week was more than enough!”
“You’re not turning down three months solid work my dear!” Anna said firmly. Tom held out his petticoats and stomped “I’m not dressing like this for three months!” “Really?” Ann asked. “What else are you going to wear?” She jangled her car keys pointedly and started down the steps. “See you next weekend!”
“Wait! No!” Tom desperately tried to follow her down the steps in his high-heels and billowing petticoats. “Don’t worry”, Lady Upton called after him. “I’ll get you a second uniform so you can change occasionally”, she tittered.
“You’ve finally found something you are good at!” Anna teased as she stepped into the car. “But… but..” Tom couldn’t believe she was leaving him there but she started up the car and pulled away.
He was stunned. “You’d better get started on the bed linen. Guests arriving tomorrow!” She went back in the door. Tom sighed as he watched the car disappear down the driveway. A gust of wind raising his petticoats made him scamper up the steps and in the door.
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nice Tom/Fifi has finally found something she is good at and on top of it can not quit the job. I wonder what further training can be coming? Also getting the impression that Anna is in on it as well.