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Made Madeleine A terrible storm, refuge in an unfamiliar house. Some doors just aren't meant to be opened, some paths never tread. Every new space has its consequences... It had been almost clich? when the great double doors of the mansion yawned open after I rang the doorbell, lightning flashing ominously. True, from the outside it didn't look like anyone who lived here was at home, but I at least expected to be greeted by a snobby butler or a portly maid. When I was ushered in by absolutely nothing at all I paused a moment unsure if I should even enter. A peal of thunder convinced me that the storm outside was going nowhere quickly. It had already caused me to forget to stop for gas (the gas-tank suddenly seems much less significant when you can barely see the asphalt in front of you during those split second swipes of the windshield wipers). Now I was lost, stuck in the middle of nowhere, soaked to the skin standing on the threshold of an unfamiliar, apparently uninhabited yet gigantic lavish home. Of course I walked in. Upon gaining entrance, it seemed to me like somebody was home after all. Lights were on that had been undetected from my approaching viewpoint outside, random noises found there way into the atrium I had stepped into. To my left was a partially open closet filled with coats, jackets, scarves, hats and umbrellas. The items inside were all high-end and just reeked of money. So these reclusive residents were rich. Good for them. I didn't need a closet full of embroidered paraphernalia to surmise this. The house was monstrous in size. Though I couldn't tell how maintained it was from the outside in the pouring rain. I would have my grand tour now I supposed. I took off my drenched coat and found the black suit I wore, minus a tie which I had removed earlier and left in the car, to only be partially damp. My shoes squeaked as I entered the marble floor of the great hall. Still nobody came out to greet me. Odd thumping and clanging rebounded off faraway walls, in hidden rooms. Seriously, these were either some of the clumsiest ghosts ever to have not-lived or this place was in fact inhabited. "Hello!" I called robustly from my broad chest. "Could I use your phone?" No response. Where was everyone? Why were all these lights on? And why did it sound like there were other people here doing things in adjacent rooms but proceeding to ignore my call for aid? The thought of ghosts again briefly crossed my mind but my firm recollection of horror movies recalled that they didn't exactly surround themselves in such lavish and warm environs. This place needed a few more boarded windows and a lot less light to be an abode of specters. There were people here I was sure of it. I just didn't want to catch them off-guard and have them throw me in jail for trespassing. It would serve them right for being so inhospitable. "Hello!" I yelled loud enough to resound upon the very center of the Earth. My voice was deep and resonant. Still nothing. The glittering jewels on the gigantic chandelier which hung above the main staircase of the great hall shimmered as I walked under it. To the left was a double swing door which I presumed led to a service/kitchen area. Surely some sort of servant would be in there, someone to lead me to a phone so I might call my brother or my girl to come pick me up. As nice as this place was, I wanted to be safe at home. Take a shower, get something to eat. This place was starting to give me the creeps. Like my skin didn't fit right. I pushed hard on the heavy swinging doors and found my guess an accurate one. This was the kitchen and there was somebody in here alright, bent over a grand oven on the far side of several rows of counters, countless pots and pans reflecting the halogen lights above. What were they, hard of hearing? Deaf? I took two steps into the room and seemed to inexplicably loose my balance. Everything was suddenly off. The room started to spin and I grabbed my head as if in pain. I watched as the countertops appeared to grow upward nearly a foot taller. The ceiling itself followed suit stretching a bit loftier. Cupboards and shelves towered above me as I staggered for purchase on my shaky legs. The walls quivered and everything substantial in the room appeared to be made of elastic gelatin. Finally the bizarre funhouse ride ended and I caught my breath. Disorientation fading, I wondered, What the hell was that all about?' "Hello?" I asked placing a hand on a nearby counter fearful that a further single step might cause the room to sway and alter once more. Had it really grown? It certainly felt larger than it looked when I first strolled in. The counter I rested upon felt like it was made for pro basketball players. I felt like a child again asking my mother for some cookies. Maybe I was just imagining things, after all how could an entire room grow larger? And I hadn't changed, my moist clothes still fit snuggly, unless they had shrank with me... Maybe it served me right for barging into someone else's kitchen. Perhaps it was psychologically booby-trapped. "Can you help me?" I asked the other inhabitant of the room. The figure tending the oven heard me at last and came ambling over looming like a mountain over the near counter. It was an enormous black woman, a maid dressed entirely in black save for various intricate patterns of white here and there. The get-up immediately brought the term 'French maid' to mind. The woman must have been nearly six and a half feet tall for I was nearly six, and she towered over me smiling like a kindly nurse. Not only tall, but massive, the text book definition of a portly old maid, quite fat but in a comforting, reassuring way. At least this normally would be comforting. She peered down at me with a warm look. For a split second I thought she had designs to put me in the oven. Hansel and Gretel anyone? "There you are," The woman began, "thought I heard you out fiddling in the hall. My aren't you a small one." She put her hands on her mammoth hips, her fingers thick spokes off of the terminal orbs of her arms. She really didn't have any wrists to speak of. 'Just about anyone would look pretty small to you, lady,' I thought but wisely kept to myself. She probably had heard all the quips about her robust size. "I-I-I just need to use the phone." I stammered my voice sounding tiny and weak. The woman's size must have been intimidating me after all. What had she called me? Small? Last I knew six feet, 190 pounds wasn't very small. Not huge, but not small. But against her I may as well been a little girl. "Of course you need to use the phone. But I need something from the pantry in the cellar and these old legs won't take me down there. Would you be a dear and go fetch the goods right here on this list?" The maid asked handing me a scrap of paper. I guess so, I thought. Really none of my business wandering around some rich folks cellar pantry, but the sooner I could use the phone the better. May as well humor the help, after all it was only through them that I'd get out of this jam and maybe meet the real owners of this place? I pushed open yet another door and descended the creaky wood steps into the darkness below. At every noisy step I felt curiously lighter, as if gravity itself was lessening as I approached the earthen cellar. I couldn't shake this sensation. Was this related to that brief hallucination in the kitchen? Must be some strange quality in the air. I heard the maid yell something about a light-switch on the near wall. Locating it I saw I was surrounded by hundreds if not thousands of stores. Jars, boxes, preserves lined shelves and stacked walls. The basement was a regular labyrinth of dry goods. Enough food to feed a large family for months, or the lady upstairs for at least a week. I laughed at my own joke but my giggle made me nervous. It sounded childish and puny and didn't belong in the depths of this maze-like cellar. Like the kitchen, the ceiling seemed too high, and the corners impossibly far away, shrouded in gloom. I picked up a small jar which was deceivingly heavy, what did they have in here, molten lead?, then loaded my arms with a two ton bag of sugar. The last thing was a fifteen-pound bag of potatoes. Finding the last item I stopped to pick it up. Fifteen pounds? More like fifty. Seriously the thing felt like it was filled with cement. Was I just weaker or was everything down water-logged or something? I set down the sugar and jar and rolled up my sleeves. Much to my discomfiture, my arms seemed scrawny and thinner than I ever would have imagined. No wonder the food was so heavy. But I just stood and scratched my head. Its not like it was possible for me to have gotten so radically punier in such a short span as to make lifting some dry goods an exhausting chore, was it? It had to be some sort of hallucination. Maybe the moist clothe of my dress shirt clung to my arms to tightly, and maybe the items on the list were much heavier than they should have been. Yeah maybe, or maybe I was sleeping and this was all just a bizarre dream. The most realistic dream ever. Struggling with the potatoes I managed to put the bag on my shoulder where I once again grabbed the other goods. I found I was closer to a second flight of stairs towards the back of the house and assumed it would lead me up into a back section of kitchen where I would just back track to the maid. No use lugging this tremendous weight all the way over to the first flight of stairs, moving farther than necessary. I didn't even know if I'd remember the way back through the maze of shelves anyhow. These steps were of metal grating and seemed to ascend forever. Or perhaps it was just because I was just terribly fatigued after just half way. Need to eat more protein or iron, I thought. That or these people shouldn't preserve their taters with ball bearings. I wiped my brow after setting down the items for a quick breath. I was really huffing and puffing. Atop the stairs, sweating and panting heavily I stretched to peer through a square glass window in the vinyl door and saw the familiar white and black checkered tile of the kitchen. I had guessed right. Bursting through the door I hefted the items atop one of those absurdly tall counters (had they truly designed the damn things for their preposterously mammoth kitchen maid?). Setting a hand to my hips I brushed a hand through my short hair and looked around for the large woman who was nowhere to be seen. She didn't appear to be in the kitchen any longer. Kettles and pans chatted on burners heating various aromatic soups and sauces, pleasant baking smells leaked from oven doors and eggshells and bread crumbs littered more than a few surfaces but there was no physical trace of the large maid. Well, she'd be back shortly, right? Couldn't just leave this stuff and let it burn? And she needed the preserves I brought for something, she wouldn't just have me run and get them only to split and do something else? Maybe she had gone to find one of the masters to help me with my phone call. I stood a moment tapping my toe, catching my breath (was I that out of shape that a little bit of stairs and some dry goods could tire me so?) when I felt a delicate tickle behind my left ear. I whirled around half expecting it to be the maid playing some sort of prank on me but there was no one there. Reaching behind my ear I found a lock of hair had grown several inches before curling toward my ear. The rest of my head was quite closely shaven as I preferred a low maintenance buzz-cut. But by the feel of this, why this had to have been at least a few months of growth. Had all my barbers been so blind as to miss this thin strip of hair? Maybe the lock wasn't mine, maybe it was just tangled up and stuck on my head. Maybe it was a cobweb from the basement. I gave it a tug and it gave way slightly as if it was lengthening but its end stayed firmly planted on my skull. Harder this time, almost bringing tears to my eyes I pulled and found I was somehow tugging the small bit of hairs to a longer length. With each tug I pulled another few inches from Lord knows where. At some point it was long enough for me to hold in front of my eyes, the base of the hair still fastened behind my ear. It was hair but it was blonde. When I let go of the hair in surprise I saw it had a bit of curl to it. My hair was neither blonde nor curly. Who's hair was this and how had it affixed itself to my skull? Prepared to give a yank so hard it would dislodge a small tree's roots I closed my eyes. But that just made things worse, for when I closed my eyes yet another something wriggled down the nape of my neck, and a third fell onto my forehead. Open and cross-eyed I tried to spy the long growing clump dangling in front of my face. I watched it plunge down to my nose where it paused then descended further like an impossibly thin whitish-yellow snake. I shook my head and felt each locks presence. This wasn't happening. Then it was a free-for-all. Dozens of locks sprang to life winding and writhing upon my head like a nest. Frightened terribly badly I ran from the kitchen back into the great hall looking for the exit from this accursed place. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the large maid, or someone else if it wasn't her, entering a room off the top of the grand staircase set dominating the grand hall. At first I tried the doors to the atrium that led to the front walk. They wouldn't budge. I thought to myself that the old maid must have locked them and then gone to the second floor. That wretched woman! Was she mixed up with what was happening to me? "Hey! Hey you! What kind of place is this? What the hell have you done to my hair?" I yelled sprinting up the staircase with unfamiliar agility. Unencumbered by rock-like potatoes I flew up with ease my legs light and strong. With each riser I felt the hair on my head still thickening, lengthening perversely quickly. Soon my shoulders were covered in a rich layer of soft blonde curls. Atop the flight I pulled the new growth back behind my ears, astonished by how differently by head felt with all the new weight tugging consistently backward. I could tell some of it had nearly found the outskirts of my lower back. It was long, heavy, thick, and foreign. Horrible really. I reached the door I had watched someone enter just seconds before and put an ear to it, curtained in soft blonde ringlets to try and get some clue if the maid was still inside. After hearing the space inside to be as silent as a tomb I knocked sharply. No reply. Why would they answer me at this point? "Hello? What's going on here? I just want to use the telephone... anybody? Please!?," panic creeping into my voice. Finally I grasp the knob, turned and pushed. If they weren't going to help me I was going to help myself. One of these rooms had to have a telephone. It was a bedroom and its attention to details put the sum total of the rest of the house to shame. Faraway center was filled by an elaborate bed complete with curtains which had been drawn wide. No one was sleeping in it and the covers had been made. Large maroon satin-looking pillows relaxed casually among the thickest comforters in existence. Gold and silver glinted off of mirrors and a thousand trinkets covering dressers, chairs, and deep brown wooden shelving. Whoever slept here sure owned the place. That's for certain. My eyes were still sought the maid or better yet, a telephone. Certainly the master bedroom came equipped with a telephone! I mustered the courage to walk out onto the lush throw-rug in the richly laden room. Upon setting foot on the expensive imported central rug I doubled over more out of surprise than pain. I lay on the floor in the fetal position, my hands flew like lightning rods to my groin. It wasn't pain, it was a movement, a horrible creeping sensation that invaded my most private area. It wasn't as if I had become aroused, no it was almost the complete opposite. Stuff was crumbling. Folding, tunneling inside me like I was turning inside-out. All that was familiar to me seemed to gain a will of its own and had climbed within my body leaving me with nothing but... but what? I rocked to a sitting position as things began to settle down, strength seeping from my body as fear burrowed icicles in my veins. My fingers fumbled with the button and zipper on my dark slacks. In my heart I already knew what it was I felt burrowing inside me but I needed to see it to believe it was actually happening. Every second that passed I felt stranger and stranger, I felt like I was becoming less myself and more... somebody else. Finally I sprung the zipper and pulled wide the elastic band of my underwear. A silent scream spilled from my wide 'O' mouth. Everything was gone. Everything. There was nothing but... but, well I knew what was in its place but couldn't believe I was looking at it there between my legs. Couldn't believe I could feel it as a part of me, let alone look at it from this vantage point. Stunned I sat for a long period of time. All of a sudden I was no longer a man. The brief thought that this was some sort of illusion, that this really hadn't occurred, that this was an intense hallucination shoved its way into my mind. Yet everything I saw disproved that theory. I blinked hard and 'it' was still there, I couldn't even mentally construct what it was called, as if that would cement its reality permanently. It was tiny in reality but so strange to me that it felt like a chasm, a canyon ready to swallow me up inside its femininity. And of course it did. It swallowed up my old existence. How could I live the same way I had up to now? What would my girlfriend say? What would my friends think? Hell, what would my family do? How was I going to explain this to anyone at all? 'Well you see I was out in the country on the way home when I ran out of gas. I went inside for help but all that got was long curly blonde hair and a va...' At least my hair was explainable now. It certainly was more appropriate spilling over the shoulders of a woman, which however inexplicably I was, at least temporarily. Because even now my mind was thinking that if this sort of bizarre metamorphosis could befall me, why then there must be some sort of reverse process. Right? There had better be. Only I had no idea how much more changing I had left to do. I was far from being a full-fledged woman. I stood up and fastened my slacks. They were now considerably ill-fitting about the groin. The length was right, but up top things were all awry. My crotch area was loose and bagged out a bit. About my hips and bottom the material fit fairly snug, but my waistline had about 2 to 3 extra inches. If the garment didn't rest so firmly about my hips the damn thing would have fell right to the floor I had just finished sitting on. Gradually my thought process returned and I remembered that I had come in here searching for that giant kitchen maid. Was she still in here somewhere? It would be pretty hard for a woman like that to play hide and go seek. It's not like she could be lying under the bed, or behind the full wall height window curtain, her plump feet giving her away down below. I noticed the light was on in an adjacent space, perhaps a side room or lav, or more likely a walk-in closet. The door to that room was just slightly ajar, and the golden light spilled out across the floor in a single line. She had to be in there. I made my way over, my steps awkward. I kept my stride as short as possible, my skin crawling from the way my groin felt as I walked. Pulling the door wide I stepped within and found my second hypothesis to be the correct one. This was the master closet. Nearly as big as most living rooms I had been in, the space pushed back impossibly far lined with shelves and rows of hangers sporting the finest clothes and linens. Shoes sat pertly in rows three deep extending as far back as my vision could will away the deepest of shadows. If the maid was in here she was doing a good job of hiding. And there was a lot of clothes and shadow to hide in. This time the transgression of a threshold within this odd house did not end in my physical transformation, but in the adaptation of what I was wearing. The first thing I sensed was the sudden, awkward constriction of my underwear. It felt like they had been tossed in a vat of cold water as they now clung to my legs and newly reconfigured groin. But the shrinkage didn't stop. It continued to tuck and pull, the legs of my boxers riding up until they disappeared completely. I felt the elastic waistband grow twice as taunt as it developed wider, an intricate pattern of lace now embedded tight against my body. Already it pressed its pattern into my skin. The groin area thinned down to a minute span, which felt dreadful as it fell between the divide of my bottom. I thought it might climb right up there and leave altogether. I had barely enough mental opportunity to realize I was now wearing woman's under-drawers. Skimpy women's under-drawers. Then the truly astounding began to happen. The cuffs of my slacks tore violently but neatly open with an audible ripping that filled the deep expanse of room. At the same time the lowest portion of my dress shirt seamed to fuse to the waistband of my pants making the two pieces one article of clothing, more or less. Much of my white dress shirt was losing its bleach-like lack of color. As if shot with ink, black began to spread ominously into the fabric. My slacks which were already a deep black did not change hue. The threads of the torn pants became animated fibers, wriggling as if they had come to life all by themselves. The pants no longer could be defined as such as the legs were rapidly disappearing. The threads from one leg began to weave their way into those of the opposite side forming, for the moment, on giant wide pant-leg housing both my legs. I pin-wheeled my arms for balance. Yet this tight fit around my legs did not last long. The single leg widened and billowed outward more so toward the bottom than the top. Underneath I could feel several layers of frilly clothe manifesting themselves out of nowhere causing the garment to bulge out from my waist like an umbrella. Above this the area that was previously a shirt, the material began to cinch tightly against my body resembling a tame version of a corset. Constrictive imitation leather belt-like straps wrapped underneath the clothe 'round my middle, tightened themselves audibly and fastened together. The long sleeves dissolved into a fine powder which I brushed off my arms and watched disappear into the air. I was left with two very short sleeves just passing my shoulders, cuffed in a remainder of the brilliant white which had dominated the original shirt. Traces of this white sprang up around the bottom of the tight waist portion just before my clothing flowered wider. It didn't take a genius to realize that I was now wearing a dress. Not just a gown but an outfit similar to the one I'd seen the large kitchen maid sporting earlier. The only difference was that mine seemed a bit racier as the neck-line plunged downward revealing my flat sunken, hairless chest. Though I could not see my legs underneath such a billowy dress I could feel my socks transforming slowly into tights, the material becoming dangerously thin and semi-transparent, which slithered up to my mid thigh where they connected with newly existent garters. My shoes had changed as well, I thought I might have a few inches of heel. The final touches of the metamorphosis in my apparel followed suit with some fine tracery detailing my uniform as well as a general increase in the width of my dress at its base. That same bottom portion once near my feet rocketed upward to just above my knees. The cool air hit my halves and penetrated through the white pantyhose. I felt like an upside-down flower. I walked from the closet feeling the soft ruffle of my dress upon my thighs which at some point during the evening had become hairless and smooth. I tried to fill up my lungs with air but found it impossible due to the restrictive bodice. A curious mood had descended upon me. I fought to stay angered or afraid of what was happening to me but the only thing left inside me was a vague sense of uneasiness that this was not my real body, that I would never in my wildest dreams wear something like this. I was finding it hard to get angry. Instead, curiosity got the best of me and I stepped daintily across the bedroom making my way to the adjoining bathe. I wanted to see what I looked like. I held my arms out at my sides as I did not quite have the hang of walking in this fashion. The small heels were part of the problem but I knew there was something else going on. My center of gravity felt off. I was swaying my hips from side to side more than I was used to. One hundred tiny differences in my stride caused me to walk like a trapeze artist, my awfully thin arms as ballast. Gaining the bathroom I heard the soft click-clack of my shoes upon the tile. Another doorway was penetrated, and another bodily transition set in. This time it happened to my face. I watched the entire process reflected in slow-motion within a large mirror. The more cut features of my chin and cheeks melted away revealing soft fresh curves. My large nose and ears diminished rapidly while my thin lips absorbed some of their shed size. I knew my eyes were not growing larger but as the rest of my face grew finer and more delicate they appeared to widen, their blues muddying to a pleasant warm brown. My lashes extended twice as long as the tip of my nose twitched upward just the slightest bit. A warm ruddy glow hit my cheeks as the rest of my complexion blanched a pale white. A bit of baby fat swelled into my cheeks and among other soft refinements caused me to lose almost 15 years. The dramatic changes slowed until they finally came to a halt. I just stood and stared. The most unnerving part of the whole transformation was that I could still see my former face behind all of the changes, as if this one had been made from the others mask. If a bystander were to see the two countenances paired up, my old face and my new one, he or she would surely see the resemblance. It was as if I had become my non-existent kid-sister. An only child, I could only imagine that I was now looking at what I would have seen had I grew up with a sister. Surely this was what I would have looked like had I been born a woman. But what difference did it make, if? For whatever reason there was no more 'if,' I was a woman now. A young woman in a maid's outfit. Which got me to thinking... did I now work here or something? I left my eerie reflection in the bathe, my wide unblinking eyes and stuffed crimson lips burned into the insides of my eyelids whenever I closed them. Once again I found myself standing in the center of the master bedroom clueless as to how to proceed. A large grandfather clock toned ruefully in the corner. It was 10pm. Did it even matter if I found a telephone at this point? Would my rescuer even recognize me? All I had left to do was try and find someone to speak with or further explore my new abode. As I collected my tumbling thoughts I was unaware that I was still progressing into my new form. My hips gracefully hummed wider, a slight vibration causing me to pass a hand down depressing the many layers of gown to get to my body. My hands on my hips I watched in awe as they moved farther apart centimeter after centimeter. I playfully shifted from side to side sticking them out as far as they'd go. Underneath all my dress it was nearly impossible to see a difference but I sure felt one. As my hips slid to a stop I found my behind catching up with them. It seemed to rise upward if that were possible, as if filled with an incredibly dense boyant fluid that was thick but lighter than air. I could feel my bottom rounding outward though once again the dress covered much of the change. What little bit of underwear that had been covering my cheeks soon slipped mostly between. After a period of time it felt like I was clenching my bottom but I realized that I was mistaken, that this was just what it felt like now. I shook my head in bewilderment and moved out of the room into the upstairs balcony which I had passed earlier after ascending the stairs. I wandered down the balcony peering over trying to see hints of other maids or servants, surely I wasn't the only one? I was one of them now, they no longer had any reason to hide. I found my way to a pair of rooms at the far end of the hall, far removed from any spaces the gentlemen and ladies of the house would ever wander into. I passed into what looked to be a servant's bedroom but like all the other spaces I'd been in, it was absolutely deserted. Upon entering it I was doomed to another modification. One that would increase my outward femininity many times over. It began with the faintest itch around my right nipple. The itch grew to a throbbing warmth with spread across the breadth of my chest to the opposite side. With each pulsing beat I could feel my nipples stretch and widen. They grew stiff from the fabric of my dress brushing against them as they grew. The stubborn throb grew deeper, echoing within me as I looked down upon myself. I couldn't help it but breath harder. My dress began to creep lower and bend outward as flesh began to collect behind it in milky white pools. The two cones filled achingly slowly, with each breath I saw them stick out farther. The sensation was getting me warm. Due to the restrictive nature of my garment this outward expansion soon came to end. I grew short of breath as my breasts continued to grow, muffled now in a prison of lace. They began to press in towards each other and I felt their soft inner curves meeting at first gently until gradually being mercilessly forced together. I could feel a cold sweat upon my lower back as I watched them blossom forth. With nowhere left to go my breasts began to lift up where the bodice was more forgiving. I stared at the low neckline as it crept lower, being forced away by the expansion of flesh within. I lost myself in the deepening declivity between my breasts as they swelled bigger. With every lungful more and more of me surged up, I began to be afraid I'd split my bodice wide open. I began to realize that I was becoming more than just a little bit endowed. Far away I could feel my tiny feet, my thin smooth legs. I could sense my miniscule waist underneath what was blooming, and my lithe arms hanging useless without muscle. My neck felt like a small twig burdened by the overripe fruit of my head, this fruit adorned with a heavy canopy of blonde ivy. All of me was so small, so petite that what pushed from my chest was definitely out of place. Finally the deep throbbing faded away leaving me with a very ample figure. I could only manage short sips of breath for fear I might burst free and then what would I wear? I did not know of the strength of the straps which held my dress so tight, that they were far from the breaking point, that they were designed to press, push up, and show off what I was now reluctant or not, showing off wonderfully. My low neckline had fallen so far that the edges of my areolas threatened to crest the line. I was all woman, all breasts. As my awe of my new body passed away I slowly recalled why I had come in here in the first place. I was looking for help. I was looking for someone who could tell me what was happening to me, or who I was becoming. My heart beat fast, a trip-hammer in a maid's uniform. For all I knew this could be my sleeping quarters. I skipped over to a bleak nightstand, looking at the only embellishment to the Spartan room. There was a silver frame which contained a picture which stole my constricted breath. A young girl dressed in white sat on a lush green riverbank. She had long blonde curls and was no older than 10. Despite the fact that I could not remember that idyllic sunny summer day the figure was me, albeit 6 or 8 years in the past. I estimated my age at 18 from my encounter in the master bathroom, though it could be anywhere from 14 to 20 in all reality. All I knew was that I was young. Youthful and extraordinarily beautiful. I picked up the frame and tried to decipher my own lost history. It was useless struggling with a past that wasn't mine. But if this was my picture then this was my nightstand, next to my neatly made bed, in my room, where I slept as servant to whomever lived here. I opened a small bureau to the right and found three dresses all of them identical to the one I was wearing. They looked ridiculously small hanging there within the bureau which dwarfed them like a cave. I saw that my bedroom, if that was what it was, had two adjoining spaces similar to the master bedroom. I could see for myself that one was a tiny little bathe with a tub just barely big enough for my petite form. But from here I couldn't tell what the other room contained. I found myself wandering into it before I even remembered that with ever door I had passed in this place there had been a consequence. The biggest was saved for last. Inside the new room I stood over what appeared to be crib. It was empty and it looked like it had just recently been assembled. A few blankets were stowed in the corner of the small room but they looked ratty and old. They were folded and unused. I looped my fingers around the top handle of the crib and pondered this new find. There really wasn't much to think over, somebody was expecting a baby. As that thought struck my mind a slow fire built low in the pit of my stomach. It started off small but something or someone was placing log after log, shovel full of coal after shovel full upon its flames. Sweat moistened my brow and frosted my upper lip. My entire lower body was warm to the touch. My close fitting dress seemed to trap all of the heat, I felt like I was going to burn up. With the rising heat came pressure as if I had a kettle boiling over my new fire and its vapors in my belly had nowhere to go. The pressure built and built until my body was forced to respond in the only way it could. I began to grow. Tiny at first, my lower abdomen rose with just the trace of an arc. But the intensity of the heat and force within me was only just beginning. Now I felt the skin start to stretch as my belly poked outward filling itself from within. Frantic I ran to my bed and sat, fanning myself with my hands in an attempt to cool my raging temperature. Though I could feel the first subtle effects of what was happening, and that it had something to do with entering the room with the crib, I hadn't yet put the pieces together. A bead of sweat trickled down my neck and dove between my heaving breasts. I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling as I tried to expel the growing storm inside me. My face grew flushed. Something was coalescing out of all the heat and pressure down in my middle. I knew this when I felt it move. In reality it was just the slightest bump from the inside, but to me it felt like it made my whole body shake to the ground. I sat on the edge of the bed and spread my legs wide, panting like a canine in the sun clenching every muscle I could down below in an effort to expel from my body whatever was growing within me. But it wouldn't come out, it just kept swelling larger inside me. I tore at the straps on my back as they creaked in protest but I couldn't free them. Surprisingly they stretched wider with my body, but I still felt like I was going to burst right down the middle. Perhaps the straps were what was holding my body together. The intense heat was slowly leaving my lower belly and groin but in its place where odd kicks and jostling. I just continued to grow even swifter. I found the straps continued to give as I expanded, as tight as they'd seemed before they appeared to have room to stretch after all. It just felt oppressive, as the two forces battled against each other, my expanding middle from the inside and my vice like corset from without. Something was going to give. I stood up and jogged from the space and out of my bedroom. For the moment I could still jog. Out on the balcony I stood a hand rubbing the thin fabric encasing my middle. There was now a bustle of activity below. Servants and butlers came seemingly from nowhere out of doors and rooms I hadn't yet gotten to. Rooms that weren't even there before. From their garbled exchanges I had learned one thing. Whoever lived here had just gotten home. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing, who I was supposed to be aiding, but I thought it best if I scurry downstairs. Perhaps someone would finally talk to me. As I descended the staircase I continued to develop rapidly, every couple steps and another week of pregnancy swam by. My belly kept getting tighter and tighter, my walk slowed and turned into a shuffling waddle. By the time my foot hit the ground floor I was quite far along, perhaps overdue. I paused a moment, my hand on the newel post struggling for breath. How could I serve anyone like this? The only one I was serving was that which lay head-down within me. I made my way over toward the door as I heard footsteps upon the walk. A doorman opened the atrium up and in walked the lady of the house all covered in furs. A gentleman had taken her umbrella and she turned suddenly to me. Though she was remarkably beautiful and quite young, the look on her face chilled my blood, it was a look of utter contempt. As she removed her coat I was enveloped in her expensive fragrance, and found that she too was quite far along with child. The folds of her gown concealed very well, but there it was. She handed me her coat, turned away and I dutifully put it away without a word. While I was bustling near the front closet the master of the house stepped in after putting a cigarette out. As he walked past me he whispered into my ear, "I'll meet you in the study as soon as she's gone upstairs." I did not know what he meant, but I was eager for someone to tell me who I was, anything at all. I felt like a stranger to my own life. Curiously I no longer felt the desire to return to my previous body, just an intense longing to dispel the mysteries bound up in this one. With the help of a lady's maid, my lady was helped upstairs and out of sight. I waddled briskly out of the grand hall to the side opposite the kitchen and found a study tucked away around the far back corner. It smelled of tobacco and hard liquor. I walked into the middle of the room looking for my master. Behind me the doors shut and locked. I turned around swiftly and saw the large powerful shape of my master coming toward me. The room was poorly lit, and a bit hazy with smoke. The man took me in an embrace, his mouth nestled within the curls upon the top of my head as he was much taller than me. He sniffed at my hair. My bottom struck the billiard table as we backed up several paces. Then my face was buried in his powerful chest which reeked of cologne, tobacco, sweat, and general masculinity. It was not an unpleasant smell, just uncommonly strong. The swell of my great belly was pressed up against his groin, and to me horror he was becoming aroused. "Madeleine, how I've missed you...," the deep baritone whispered into my curls. "A-a-and I you, sir," I said stumbling for words. All I could think about was what was stirring against my bulge. I didn't even start at the chipper soprano of my own voice. It was clear and crisp, eager for what was to come. "You know, ever since Gladys began showing she's given me nothing, nothing at all. Of course I knew about our child well before hers...," and with that he rubbed his tented pants against me. I did not back away, I had nowhere to go, his smell kept me close. "It will all work out for the best however, as Gladys' dignity would never allow her to feed that child from her own body, why you'll have new duties." The man grabbed hold of my bottom up underneath the frills and folds of my dress and lifted me up effortlessly upon the table. New duties... "A little young to be a wet nurse, but I fear that's the only reason she hasn't fired you after she found out about us. Honestly now, its not as if she hasn't found pleasure with one or two of the servants now and again." With that he kissed me and I found myself kissing back, vigorously. It was as if he was stealing the air out of my lungs. While his one hand still clutched my behind firmly his other began feebly playing with the straps of my corset. "I think it's just the sight of you all... full and everything that makes her so angry. That belly of yours is physical proof of our lovemaking. It's not like I have to walk around looking at the male help and seeing proof of her infidelity, so I forgive her in a way for her temper." The man had done it, had free me of those nasty belts and strap and I felt my bodice loosening. The first thing that happened was my breasts slid free, hanging gently in the air. One was quickly enveloped by a hard, large hand. I squirmed pleasurably in his arms. My master propped a knee up on the billiard table, climbed up and softly lay me down. My bodice and dress was set aside, my body huge, naked and shiny looking in the light of a few candles. I had been sweating. I was breathing hard, his body hovering over me. I closed my eyes. Kisses were planted on my neck, collarbone, breasts and belly. Pants were discarded, panties removed. He motioned for me to turn around and to get on my hands and knees as he'd never find entrance with my figure as it was. He came at me swiftly and I moaned.