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Tits and Tats It was an unassuming shop on a quiet street in a seedy part of town. I was a middle manager, who had downed a couple of glasses of fine wine over lunch, on my way home a bit early, wandering, as I liked to do through the streets looking at the shops. What caught my eye was the French Maid's Uniform in the window. It seemed so unusual to see such a thing in this day and age that I had to take a closer look. There was a variety of old-fashioned clothes in the window including corsets and seamed stockings. Since leaving the Monastery my dreams have not been sated, in fact the opposite. I have been obsessed with the image of the Maid all the more. I see my self in service working as a Ladies Maid at the mercy of a domineering Mistress who controls my mind and body. I have had dreams of being female since I was very young. I have tried to resist them as unsocial urges and have kept this tendency to my self and my few real girlfriends. When you have what could be considered to be an incurable social disease, you keep quiet about it. I think it is the attraction of being without guilt. When you are a servant, you do as you are told without question therefore any guilt for your actions is transferred to the person who told you to do it. To a Catholic boy any excuse is enough to let go of the reigns and allow sex to be thrust upon me with no feelings of guilt. I think that somewhere between my alcoholic father and my overprotective mother I must have developed a deep guilt about sex, which may have resulted in my obsessive desire to have sex thrust upon me. To have no choice. To have to lie back and think of England whist unspeakable acts of degradation are committed on my body. Sex without guilt or responsibility. To submit. And what more submissive image is there than that of the French Maid. I have the overwhelming desire to be raped by a domineering woman whilst serving as her Maid, to experience total submission, freedom from feelings of guilt and responsibility. This is a bizarre and dangerous thing to desire but despite attempts to face it, like two years in a Monastery in Scotland, I felt the whole thing was too disturbing, so I tried to ignore it and get on with my life. It was a pretty lonely existence but I was used to that. I had occasional lapses and over the years, I had acquired a small wardrobe of maid's clothes. I would occasionally dress-up in these but never let anybody see. I became quite a competent seamstress as walking into a shop and buying a maids outfit would have been too embarrassing for words. I wanted to look inside the shop but my natural reluctance to expose my secret made me nervous. I steeled my self and entered the shop telling myself I could say I was shopping for my girlfriend. The shop assistant was an attractive redhead wearing a tight black leather outfit, that would have made my soldier jump to attention if he had not already been there, and long leather boots that went half way up her beautiful thighs. In her slender fingers, she held a cigarette as she bit down on a long bright red thumbnail and stared quizzically at me. To my relief she let me browse in peace and I soon became so involved in my shopping I forgot about her. I was just examining a very well made corset when I was brought abruptly back to reality by the sound of her voice behind me asking if I would like to try it on. Flustered I spluttered that I was shopping for my girl friend and was not sure of her size. She suggested that my girlfriend was perhaps close to my size and that maybe she should measure me to get an idea of her size. She measured me thoroughly, more thoroughly than necessary for a corset, and asked me how my dimensions compared with my girlfriends. When I mentioned that my girlfriend had a smaller waist, she smiled and said, "I think I have the size now." "Walk this way," she said more as an instruction than a request but the way she said it made it sound quite natural and I could find no real argument. She selected a beautiful corset and led me to a room at the back of the shop. I went quietly feeling very comfortable with her and thinking that if this is alright with her then why not. The room was comfortably furnished with a large cheval mirror in the middle. I slipped out of my clothes without thinking too much about what I was doing and started to put on the corset. It was beautiful and I was just admiring it in the mirror when she reappeared in the room saying I would need someone to help me lace it up. I suddenly felt very vulnerable and started again on my cover story about it being for my girlfriend, knowing full well that it was an obvious lie, when she covered my mouth and said it was alright. She said that the shop was for cross dressers and that I was not her first customer. As she laced the corset, she said that it was beautiful on me and that she had a dress that would suit me perfectly. Feeling more comfortable about things I said let's try it. She turned to leave but then seemed to change her mind and said that I wouldn't get the full benefit of the dress without being "fully dressed." Intrigued, I agreed to let her dress me. She sat me down at the dressing table and started to work on my face. After applying a foundation, she painted my eyes and applied false eyelashes. A brush of blush and an application of bright red lipstick and I thought she had finished. But when she started to pluck my eyebrows, I complained that it would make me look too girlie, she just said, "Maybe later." I let it go at that but that was not my first mistake. She then fitted a long blond wig and a pair of clip-on earrings. I could not believe the face I saw staring at me from the mirror but I had little time for contemplation. She presented me with a pair of seamed stockings, which I slipped on in a trance as she attached them to the garters, and explained how to keep the seams straight. She then locked a pair of 5-inch stiletto heeled shoes on my feet and invited me to move back to the cheval mirror. By this time I was entranced. I would have walked over hot coals if she had told me to and it was at this point that she produced the Maids outfit that I had seen in the window. I let her slip it over my head and tie on the apron. She completed the outfit with a maid's cap and a pair of frilled clip-on cuffs. I was transfixed by my image in the full- length mirror. Then before I knew what was happening she pulled my hands behind my back and joined the cuffs with a padlock. I was still trying to work out what was going on when she fastened a small chain between the ankle straps of my shoes with padlocks. I then realised that I had no escape and started to panic. I was jabbering trying to talk my way out but it was too late. She slipped a neck corset around my neck and inserted the attached ball gag into my mouth, after adjusting the straps I could not move my head or make a sound. She lead me over to the dressing table but with the very high heels and the short chain restraining my ankles I could only take dainty little steps and I almost fell. She said that I would have to work on my walk but since the shoes are locked on and would remain so 24/7 I would get plenty of practice. My mind was racing what did she mean 24/7 as if I did not know. She sat me down and finished plucking my eyebrows into two high arches, which she then highlighted with a black pencil. She promised to come back to my eyebrows later when she gave me my tits and tats, I tried not to understand what she was saying but deep down inside I knew I was already in over my head. She left me at the dressing table to contemplate my position whilst she returned to the shop. I looked at myself in the mirror. Sitting before me was a girl dressed in a short black flared dress with layers of lace petticoats that barely covered her arse never mind her stocking tops. The padded cups of the corset pushed what little flesh I had on my chest up to form a fairly convincing bosom which billowed out of my low cut neckline. There was lace everywhere, round the neckline, on the hem of the skirt and round the apron and cap. The cuffs that I had at first thought of as a decorative touch were in fact steel cuffs covered in the same black vinyl the dress was made of and finished with layers of lace. The shoes likewise had steel anklets attached that were used to hold the chain that linked my ankles. The collar was made of leather and was contoured and laced so that I could not move my head. The ball gag was strapped on firmly and was covered in my lipstick, a fact that I found strangely disturbing. I could not escape. Even if I had got the cuffs undone and made a dash for it, dressed as I was, and in this seedy area, I would not have got very far before some horny perve would have grabbed me and I would be in an even worse position. I decided to ride it out until I was in a better position to escape. When my captor returned from the front of the shop carrying a bottle of wine, I relaxed a little. She said that if I promised not to scream, not that it would do any good in this area, she would remove my gag and we could have a civilized drink, This sounded like a good plan so I nodded my head as far as was possible in the neck corset and she removed it. We shared a few drinks and a couple of joints with her sitting on the settee and me on the floor at her feet. I naturally did all the service, but I didn't mind, I was living out my dream. She suggested that I model some of her clothes for her and I gladly complied. She seemed to select my favourites but kept me busy changing, dancing and curtsying, a real work out. During the course of the evening I had to go to her so many times to have my bonds removed and replaced that in the end she gave me the key to save time and I handed it back when she said the fashion show was over. She had a relaxed friendly way about her and before long I was telling her my most intimate secrets. We talked for hours she wanted to know all about me. When she asked me about my citizenship status, I made a momentary lapse of judgment and admitted to being in the country illegally. I don't know why I admitted to her something I have not even told my best mate, it might have been the booze, the dope, or the wild intoxication of her musk but I would learn to regret it. She suddenly announced that she was hungry and that we should go back to her place were I could cook her something to eat but that she should drive, as I was looking a little squishy. I was beginning to feel the effect of the drugs she had secretly slipped into my drink and was glad of the lift. I got up to change and she said that she was too hungry to wait for me to change back when we got there and that I would travel in my uniform. I was trying to think of a reply as she attached a collar and lead and led me out to the car. She buckled me in with my arms under the seat belts and attached my cuffs to a chain that was anchored to the floor. "This will help it feel more like a kidnapping," she laughed as she produced a ball gag and said, "I hope this won't be necessary because you can always ride in the boot". I was by now too stoned to respond so she gave me a shot of Female hormones and drove off. The Cocktail of drugs and hormones were taking over. I was drowsy, confused and suggestible. As she drove, I vaguely remember her explaining that since I was an illegal immigrant and therefore a non- person, she was claiming possession of me as her slave. I would be signing contracts on arrival at her home. I also remember her giving me all sorts of instructions about my duties and my lowly position in the household. She said that after I received my tits and tats there was no way back, but that first I must be broken and trained. "You will never break me!" I said, "I was a monk I know about deprivation." "Who said anything about deprivation, quite the reverse. I believe practice makes perfect, and you will be perfect," she said menacingly. "With a small waist, large breasts and those fabulous legs, you will be a typical dumb blond bimbo maid ready to serve your Mistress's every whim." "This is going too far too fast!" I said. "You have no idea!" she laughed. I felt weak and fuzzy as I strained futilely against my restraints. I was trying to assess my situation but couldn't concentrate. I had no idea where we were. Did she really mean what she said? I could just hope that this was all just an elaborate joke. I started to look around trying to recognise landmarks, she slipped a bag over my head and said, "You don't need to know where you are." Her tone told me this was not a joke! I began to understand my situation. I must escape! After a while I felt the car go up a hill and pull into a driveway, we passed, drove over a cattle grid and up a long drive. I heard heavy metal gates closing behind us. I was assisted out of the car by two pair of female hands and led up a long stone staircase. This was awkward with my high heels and my ankles chained together. We went along a hall and then down a long steep narrow stone staircase. If I had not been supported, I would have fallen and I wondered how I was going to get back up with these shoes locked to my feet. When we thankfully reached the bottom, we walked a few yards and I heard the sound of a heavy metal door being opened. I walked inside. I thought of escape but as I could see nothing and did not know even where I was, I decided to wait. My cuffs were then locked to chains above my head and my blindfold removed. I looked around my cell. It was a padded box even the door was set-in in such a way that when closed it merged in with the walls. It was red! Not just red it was patches of various shapes and sizes in subtle shades of red. It was extremely hard to focus on, it was a strain on the eyes. I tried not to look at it but it was everywhere floor, walls and ceiling. There was a huge mirror on the opposite wall. I was chained to a pillar which was cold so I had to stand up straight in my heels to get away from it or I was sure I would have frozen to death. The two girls, who were dressed like me left without a word. I saw the steel door slam shut and heard the lock close. My heart sank. I was in no position to plan my escape, as I knew nothing of my situation except that it was hopeless. I must have stood there for hours in those heels, before the door opened again and in walked someone carrying a tray. She was dressed just like me except she had a different cap and only a small collar. I bombarded her with questions but her only reply was "It will all become clear when you have your tits and tats", she put down the tray on a small table and I saw that it contained four phials and hypodermic needles. She gave me four injections one in each of my breasts and one each in my buttocks and left. About an hour later, another maid returned with a tray of food. She unlocked me from the ceiling but left my wrists and ankles bound, she showed me where the concealed toilet and bathroom was, and then told me to eat! It was not very much but I did not notice as I was too busy quizzing her about my situation. She said little more than the other maid only that it was pointless resisting as there was no escape and that "It will all become clear when you have your tits and tats". She left me untethered so I lay down on the red bed mat closed my eyes and saw green. What is happening, where am I, what do these strange women mean to do to me? Did I deep down inside secretly want it? With that thought, something inside me broke and I came all over the bed. It was massive, I lay there in the afterglow until I heard a small voice telling me to clean up with some tissues in the cupboard and get to bed I had a big day tomorrow. I got up and found a red box of red tissues in a concealed red cupboard I didn't know existed. I cleaned up and went to sleep. When I woke-up, I had another look around the cell. It was indeed all red, but the light was red as well, not a constant red, more like a 60's light show in shades of red. It must have had Ultra-Violet light in it too as the white lace on my uniform shone out. In fact looking at my self was the only way to rest my eyes from the constant overdose of Red but that kept bringing me back to my predicament. It was like a Japanese Koan, a question without an answer. I wanted to escape or did I? I had no idea of where I was or what this place was. I had to simply survive and the last things I needed to dwell on were myself and my predicament but I could look at nothing else. The redness of everything and the moving lights gave me a headache so I tried closing my eyes only to see green. This faded but I could find out nothing with my eyes closed so I decide I had to accustomise my eyes to the light and have a look around. After a few failed attempts I got up and walked around, I thought I should have a shower and clean-up. I found the concealed panel and opened up the very compact toilet/bidet/shower. I had a shower and shaved then decided to see what else was hidden in this magic wall. I found a wardrobe with a selection of maid's uniforms. They were mostly vinyl with a few Latex, leather and even some silk and plain cotton. They were all beautifully made, mostly short frilly dresses, short tight skirts, long hobble dresses that lock at anklets and some sensible working dresses. In hidden draws, I found aprons, slips, knickers, restraints, stockings all a maid's dressing needs. In an other cupboard, I found a dressing table with make-up, jewellery and a selection of wigs. I decided to re-do my make-up and sat down at the dressing table. It seemed a strange thing to do but I only had maid's uniforms to wear so I might as well look the part and not annoy the bitches. I had little experience applying make-up, as I rarely could be bothered to put it on when I dressed up but this was easier as I only had the colours I had on already so I reapplied my make-up as best I could, put on a long blonde wig and got dressed. If I didn't lace the corset up as tight as they did, the dresses wouldn't fit, so I did it up as far as I could. I put on a slip with a short flared petticoat and then my favourite dress. I took out an apron and held it up. I told myself I was just making the most of a bad situation but I knew I was secretly enjoying it. If this was for play, it would be fun but the thought that it could be permanent terrified me. And what are Tits and Tats? As if I didn't know! Was I going to have implants and be branded? It was all happening too fast and why was she being kept in this red box and why couldn't she think clearly. I caught myself referring to myself as she and stopped. What was I doing and what was this little voice that kept telling me to do things? I slipped on a pair of stockings, making sure the seams were straight and locked on a pair of shoes. The little voice then told me to put on my cuffs and lie down on the bed, taking care not to crush my uniform. I had just laid down when the voice said that I had forgotten my Cap and that I must have it on. I got up to put it on and while I was there, I locked a small chain between my anklets. I got up to walk back and thought why did I put these chains on? I walked around for a bit not wanting to crush my dress. I decided to investigate more. I found a shelf that pulled out that fitted my Latex mattress perfectly, but as I pulled it out the other facilities closed up back into the wall. I put my mattress on the shelf and sat down. I looked around the room again but found it too overwhelming, I let my eyes rest on my own image in the mirror. I saw me, a maid sitting dressed and bound awaiting milady's pleasure. I lay down and cried. I cried for ages but then a little voice told me to hurry and repair my make-up as a maid was coming and I wouldn't want her thinking any less of me because I was a mess. I had just finished repairing my makeup when the maid entered the cell carrying a tray. It was the same maid who had administered the injections yesterday so I knew what to expect. She noticed that I had been crying and said that she was not allowed to talk to me, but that everything would be less painful if I just relaxed and accepted my fate. "When Rape is inevitable, why not lie back and enjoy it," she said as she left. This did not help, I rolled up in a foetal ball and rocked on my bed trying not to cry. A little while later I heard the door being opened and I rushed to my vanity as the second maid entered and said, "Don't bother for me, but don't forget to repair your make-up after dinner because you never know when our Mistress might visit." She was quite friendly if a little guarded and explained that my only option was to do what ever I am told by just about anybody in the household. Except sexual favours which could only be granted by my mistress, not that that will stop many trying. Virginity was highly prized and with my legs, I was a certainty for tits and tats. If I failed, my Mistress would keep putting me through again and again, punishing me harder and harder until I passed with flying colours. She lowered her voice and said that I may be a novelty at the moment but that moments pass and if I didn't want to find myself working in a Pilipino whorehouse, I should make myself a useful member of the household, or at least a saleable item. I didn't like to think what a 'saleable Item' meant but I asked anyway. "Did you notice the pictures in the window of the shop?" she asked. "Yes, maids dresses, not a very imaginative designer, they all looked the same," I replied. "Quite but the models were all different," she said, then she left adding ominously, "All will become clear when you get your tits and tats, but by then it will be too late." "It is already too late!" She chuckled to herself as she locked the door behind her. I sat, lay, walked and slept in that red room for days. I took to snoozing on and off, to avoid looking at the red but the dreams where recurring every time I closed my eyes. I would have lost all sense of time if it had not been for the maid's visits. I was loosing my mind and I kept hearing that little voice telling me to do things and I always did them. I got up when it said and put on make-up, my uniform and replaced my restraints. I sat there, as it commanded and I waited. I waited for what, I did not know. I dressed each day and waited. As the days wore on, I began to notice more about the maids who attended me. They were always made-up with bright red lipstick, long eyelashes, eyeliner and their eyebrows where thin high arches which looked like they had been tattooed on. I also noticed changes in myself, as I looked down at my lace-framed bosom I could swear it was growing and my hips were feeling tight against the corset where before they had been loose. This could not have been caused by too much food, as my daily meal was barely enough to feed a bird. After about a week or I assume it was a week as I had no other way of measuring time except by these apparently daily visits, I felt groggy after my usual injections and the next thing I knew I woke up in a bubble bath being washed by three other maids. After the bath, they helped me dress in a clean corset and uniform. They fixed my hair and make-up, replaced my restraints and sat me down to the first almost decent meal I had had in a week. The Corset seemed tighter than the previous one and I had trouble finishing my meal but I was determined. Once I had finished, the redhead I had seen in the shop on the first day appeared and handed me a glass of wine. I accepted this gladly as she sat down next to me. She explained that I was now her slave to be trained as a maid and sex toy for her pleasure and that the sooner I accepted my situation, the less painful it would be. I defiantly said that I would grab every opportunity to escape and that she had made a mistake with me! She calmly explained that there was no escape and that she knew from the moment I walked into her shop that this is what I wanted, even if the reality is different from the fantasy. She said that everything would become clear once I had my tits and tats but that she enjoyed breaking her slaves first. She then got up and left. I started to shout that she would never break me but I was grabbed by the surrounding maids who replaced my neck corset and gag. My hands were then secured behind my back and I was frog marched over to a door that lead into a huge torture room. I tried to scream but all I could make was a slight Arg noise, as they strapped me to one of the machines. The dungeon was lined with mirrors and in one of them, I could see the Mistress coming up behind me with a cane. She explained that this was for my own good and that the sooner I accepted my position the easier it would be for me. She gave me 12 strokes of the cane and then left the room. The other maids however stayed behind and amused themselves feeling my breasts and arse and discussing how big they had grown on the hormones and how large an implant would be used. They also talked about what colour my lips would be tattooed and how long the implanted eyelashes would be. Apparently, they all had tattooed eyeliner and eyebrows and their Adams apples had been shaved with the result that their voices had risen two octaves. I was just reaching the point of absolute desperation when I felt one of the hands that had been fondling me, approach dangerously close to my arse hole and another grasp my penis. The hand on my penis rubbed gently while the hand near my arse hole started to work a finger in. There was a loud noise behind me and I heard the Mistress shouting that my arse was hers and that nobody had the right to touch it without her permission. I was very glad to see her. She grabbed the maid who had tried to violate me and strapped her to the machine next to mine giving her 24 viscous strokes of the cane. As she walked away she gave me one more and said, "And that is for being such a slut!" She sounded proud of me. I was returned to my new not red cell. This time I was not chained to a pillar I was chained to a hard bed with little room for movement. This was an improvement as I could at least lie down and fell asleep immediately the door slammed shut and the lights went out for the first time in weeks. The next morning I was woken and my chains were removed. With only my hands locked behind my back and the short ankle chain, I was lead to communal showers. The two maids who escorted me helped me remove my clothes and restraints then guided me into the shower. It was bliss to be able to move freely and some of my spirit returned. They helped me dress again and lead me to a room were I was chained to a large beam that was attached to a central spindle. Three other beams were also attached to the spindle forming a cross and a maid was chained to each of the other beams. A woman dressed like my Mistress held a whip with which she gave me an incentive to move. I started walking pushing the beam, it was heavy and wearing the high heels made it harder. I stumbled a couple of times and was given suitable encouragement but after a week of standing in those shoes, I was getting used to them. We walked for what seemed like hours then the shift was changed and we were led away to the dinning room. I had not had a chance to talk to my fellow maids as any attempt to speak was rewarded with a quick application of the whip or the cattle prod. But over what counted for dinner we were left more or less alone. I quizzed my fellow maids about where we were but they knew no more than I did. The rumour was that we were here to be trained as maids and sex toys and that after training if we passed we would be sold to rich bitches that would use us as they chose. What happens if we fail, I asked. There was whispered discussion amongst my companions then one said that it was believed that the failures were sold to Philippine brothels to be used as submissives. Not many people lasted out the year over there. I asked if anybody had ever escaped and was told never. One of the mistresses came over and told us that we were gossiping like women and that the next person to speak would receive a demerit. After dinner, I was instructed to return to my cell and await a maid to strap me to my bunk. I now had a better idea how things worked around here and decided that the only way to escape was to be a model maid and gain a position of trust in the hope that they might slip-up and I could get a chance to escape. A week elapsed chained to the beam and then one morning I was led in a different direction and found myself in a classroom. I was presented with a copy of Mrs. Beeton's book of home management and told that this was to be my Bible. I did not understand as I thought it simply a cookbook but over the coming days, I was to learn that it was more than that. It defined the duties and responsibilities of every member of a Victorian Household. We were quizzed on these with painful consequences for any mistakes. I saw the inside of the torture room a few times before the week was out but at last, I passed the exam. This was only the beginning over the next few weeks I was taught how to walk, sit and generally deport myself as a maid. I also had to learn the theory of how to bring a woman to orgasm and how to show deference to my Mistress. I passed every test and with each success, I was allowed more liberty. I was first allowed to chain myself to my bunk then later I was allowed to have some nights free. I also spent some nights chained to the pillar again when I had been tardy or lazy or when my Mistress just felt like it but things were definitely improving. My breasts were getting quite large as were my hips and my waist was being trained into that hourglass shape. Looking in the Mirror I realised that there was no way I could pass as a man anymore but I told myself that that would change when I got away from this place. After passing the final exam, I was told that I was to be awarded the position of scullery maid. Each day I worked in the Kitchen helping the Chef and I became quite good at cooking. I could have gone on to train, as a Chef but my ambition to escape required that I be upstairs. I passed the exams for upstairs maid and the day came when I was lead up that steep stone staircase to the sunlight. The apprehension I had felt when I arrived, about getting up the stairs again, proved baseless, after weeks in the heels I ascended the stairs as if born wearing them. I arrived upstairs and was immediately set to work scrubbing the steps. I wore fairly restrictive bondage with my hands chained to my sides and my feet chained together as usual. I was never left unguarded but I was in the fresh air and I could dream of escape. I worked hard all day and was rewarded by not needing to chain myself to my bunk. A couple of times I found myself in the compromising position of being cornered by one of the other maids who had designs on my virginity but I always managed to save myself somehow. Gradually I was trusted more and more until one day when my guard was off raping one of the other maids I saw my chance. I crawled through the undergrowth until I reached the road were I started walking in the direction I thought would lead to town. As I walked, I was passed by a couple of cars which I tried to flag down but they did not stop. I could hardly blame them considering how I looked. Then suddenly a car pulled up with four young boys in and they offered me a lift. I was a little reluctant at first but after they had listened sympathetically to my tale, I got in. I was seated between the two boys in the back and I must admit that their hands did roam all over my body but I consoled myself with the thought that I was getting further away from that dreadful place every minute. The car pulled up outside a deserted farmhouse and I became very worried. One of the boys produced a gag the other a pair of handcuffs. They quickly gagged and cuffed me and carried me into the farmhouse. I tried to scream but I was well gagged and it seemed that the place was so isolated that nobody would have heard me anyway. I don't like to remember that day and even though I have been more savagely violated since, I will always remember that day. I trusted them but I was raped over and over again. I not only learned to take it up the arse but I also learned how to deep throat time and time again. They drank bottles of Bourbon neat and poured copious quantities of the vial stuff down my throat to wash down their "Gifts". I eventually passed out and woke-up in my cell looking up at my Mistress. She told me that after I had passed out the boys had dropped me off there to get rid of me. She asked me if I had learned my lesson, that there was no escaping my fate. I said yes and that as long as she promised to only sell me to a woman I would be a good girl from now on. She said that though she was not in the habit of allowing slaves to dictate terms, she had been considering keeping me as her personal maid. The next day I received my Tits and Tats and I have never looked back. Maid Sussette