Women's Lunch free porn video

The first few weeks after I lost my job were really tough emotionally. Luckily, my wife Ellen was able to go from part time to full time at her job and I lined up a few document review jobs I could do from home on a contract basis. The toughest thing was accepting the switch in our relationship - she now was the main wage earner and I was the stay at home. Although it was never discussed, she certainly implied and expected that I would now do the majority of the house work, laundry, etc. That had been her responsibility when she was part time, so now it became mine. At first it was really daunting, learning everything, and especially learning to meet her standards. But soon I became comfortable with it, and even proficient. So I found myself with quite a bit of free time during parts of the day. Not that there weren't times when it was all I could do to get shopping, meals, and house picked up so that Ellen would be satisfied. However, I began to look for something to fill the empty periods. I guess that was one thing that took me back to some of my youthful behaviors. In my teens, I had been left to my own devices often and being shy around women, found I could express my growing interest in them by touching and feeling the soft, silky things my older sister had in her wardrobe. This had eventually led to me wearing her panties, bras, nylons, and even panty girdles on occasion. Something about the sensual feel of the satin, lace, and spandex combined with the forbidden nature of wearing women's clothes stuck with me, even long after I began dating and stopped actually wearing such things. Now that I was actually filling the traditional feminine role in our relationship, I returned to the dress up games. Mostly these involved wearing panties and bras under my regular clothes as I did the house work. Even though my wife and I were similar in size and height, I felt better about wearing lingerie that was mine and not stolen from her. Thus I bought a few things that fit me really well and was exactly what I fantasized about: high-cut bikini panties of silky spandex in soft pastel colors; matching styled soft cup bras; and sheer to the waist pantyhose or sheer stockings in tan, black or white. I also bought a couple of tight, firm control panty girdles, and even a pair of inexpensive silicon breast pads, used by most women to add a cup size. My lingerie was just enough to meet my needs and was easy to keep clean and hidden from my wife, since I did all the house chores. As you might expect, I began to love wearing these, and tried to do so as much as possible, and even began to eye some of my wife's things. Especially attractive to me were her clothes that in style were similar to men's clothes, such things as jean shorts, pants, and knit shirts. These were similar enough that only a careful observer would note for example, the shorter legs with notched slits and female scripts on the pockets of her jean shorts. It became my secret thrill to wear my dainty under things with these shorts or jeans when running errands or working in the yard. It was sort of flaunting my forbidden activity with little chance of being caught. It all changed one afternoon, when I was doing just that, wearing my matching peach panty and bra, my wife's light blue Chic shorts, and a loose bulky top, doing some light weeding in the flower beds near our mailbox. I hadn't noticed them coming up the street, but I was soon face to face with three of the neighbor wives, Debbie, Christie, and Robin. They were dressed nicely and carrying finger foods. It was too late to go into the safety of the house, so I just tried to keep cool and continued my chore. Debbie would not ignore me however and cheerfully called out. "Mike, you are always working so hard on your yard. It is beautiful. But you can't work forever, come with us down to Brenda's house. We're having a little neighborhood get together. Just light lunch, and interesting conversation. You know your wife used to join us. Please come, we'd really like your company." I didn't quite know what to do. My wife had mentioned these luncheons, but I was almost positive that only the wives in the neighborhood went to them. She had fun, the food was good, but it would be like admitting I was just another housewife. I couldn't think of an excuse on the spot, and could only reply that I wasn't dressed for the occasion. Robin spoke up. "Don't worry about dressing up. We ladies just like the chance to wear something nice, something besides old clothes for doing chores." Still unable to think of a good excuse, I merely settled for a delay. "Well ok, just let me go and wash up, then I'll be right down." This seemed to satisfy them, and while I went in the house, they strolled onto Brenda's. Once inside, I contemplated not going, but I knew the ladies' behavior too well. They would be offended by my lie, and I didn't want to cause bad feelings. I did change out of my wives shorts, and took off the bra. I was a little too nervous about being in such close proximity with all my female neighbors. I knew from experience that when it came to clothes that a woman paid more attention than a man did. With an extended interaction, they would surely see the feminine details of my shorts or the impression of bra straps. Once I changed, I went to join them. I was really surprised. There were quite a few ladies there. Just about all my neighbors were there, including Lindsay, Renee, and Trisha. Even more surprising was how much fun I had. Between the food, gossiping about neighbor happenings, and evaluations of the latest fashion styles, it was great. The women had accepted me as just another wife and most had invited me to come back next week. Although I was concerned about how it might affect the masculine facade I tried to keep for the outside world, I happily agreed to come back. As the women began to leave, Debbie said something to Brenda about it being her turn to help clean up. I asked her what she meant, and Debbie replied that the lunches were always at Brenda's, so the rest of the women rotated the cleanup chores among them so that Brenda would have a helper. As I had already felt like I had gotten off lightly, not making a food dish, I volunteered to do the cleanup. Thus I stayed and did the dishes, swept and mopped at Brenda's direction. As I worked, she commented how good a job I did, for a man, and it was a shame that my turn to help again would be a while. Seeing an opportunity, I suggested that since I wasn't a very good cook, that perhaps I could do the cleanup every week as my contribution. Brenda seemed delighted, and confided that some of the wives were reluctant helpers, as it was all they could do to keep their own house clean. Thus, a deal was struck. I began to really look forward to the weekly luncheons, a chance to indulge some of my feminine interests. The gossip, fashion talk, and just girlfriend stuff was something I had never really known before. At the first few lunches, I was treated like the male I was. But as I increasingly participated in female discussions, they almost forgot my true gender. Of course doing all the cleanups really made me more popular, and I guess made the women look at me as just another housewife. Although the first few meetings I kept my women's wear down to just panties, I was soon adding more and more feminine attire. First was hose, then I added a panty girdle, and eventually a bra or camisole, if I was wearing a sweater, vest or jacket. The anxiety the first time I was completely decked out in my lingerie was almost overwhelming, but within a few weeks it was second nature. I couldn't stop there of course, but began to slowly work in some of my wife's masculine designed pants, sweaters, and blouses. Again, the thrill of being this close to so many other women, doing feminine activities in feminine clothes was exhilarating fun. Not that there was more than a few close calls. I always had to be careful, be sure that my hose was dark like men's socks, or that my sweaters didn't have gaps where my bra outline could be seen, or that my girdle didn't leave an impression through my pant legs. However, all this precaution became ingrained and there was never any recognition by the women, at least to my knowledge. I also began keeping my hair longer, using blonde highlights, and keeping my nails manicured. Nothing I did was exceeding unusual, but just a little more feminine slant to my personal hygiene. Neither my wife nor neighbors commented on these steps. I guess my security led me to try the next step. I had long desired to wear a woman's suit, the kind that came with several matching pieces, but had not found one yet in my shopping trips. Finally, when I had made a quick trip to Steinmart to pickup a few pairs of hose I saw the perfect suit. It was a dark charcoal with a light gray pinstripe. The jacket was double-breasted and was long, extending almost to mid-thigh. The matching pants were heavenly, very feminine. They had a rear zipper and no belt. There were also a short skirt and vest to match, but I was only interested in the jacket and pants. Taking a chance, I brought it in a size 11/12. Rushing home, I had to try it right then. Amazingly, it fit perfectly, and the jacket extended far enough so that the rear zip wasn't visible even when sitting. It would be the perfect next step for the luncheons. Of course being more feminine in nature now, I could wear it only when I found the perfect accessories. After several more shopping trips, I had completed the outfit. Smoky, gray pantyhose, a new matching Bali bra, panties, and panty girdle in light rose, black patent leather loafers with tasseled trim and a low heel, and a silver sleeveless mock turtleneck in a light silk made the suit look divine. True, the combination was more feminine than anything I had worn before to the lunches, but I felt it was still on the edge of masculine dress. The pants and jacket could easily pass for some new wave men's wear (except for the reverse button details), the shoes were very similar to some of my regular dress shoes with just a bit more of a chunky heel, and hose and top would be mostly covered. Even the rear zip pants would be just a mental thing for me, since they were covered by the jacket. Now all I needed was the right luncheon date, every so often we had a more formal event, and of course the courage to be so daring with my femininity. I was pleasantly surprised when the right opportunity arose within a few weeks. One of the ladies had been recognized by our town for her charity work at a local thrift store, so Brenda thought it would be nice to give her a special luncheon where our group could also validate her sacrifices. We decided to have the lunch prepared by caterers and we'd all dress up a little nicer than usual. As we made plans, I subtly mentioned that I had bought a new suit, which was designed with more fashion flair than most men's styles. I hoped that would add a little more cover for my daring foray into feminine appearance. The day of the luncheon, I went over to Brenda's early in the morning to help her prepare her house. We worked quickly, and within an hour everything was ready for the catered food. Telling Brenda I'd be back about an hour before the luncheon to help with last minute details, I hurried home to get ready. First I took a hot bath, applying silky body salts and afterwards some bath powder with just enough scent to be noticeable but not overwhelming. Then I quickly got dressed, and put a bit of curl in my hair. I longed to be able to finish the look with some lipstick, mascara, blush and eye shadow, but that could only be done at home. When I was ready, I looked in the mirror, and tried to get the courage up to go. I knew this would be both exciting and scary - sort of the rush you get when you go on a wild roller coaster. You want the thrills but are also a little apprehensive about the ride. Finally, I closed my eyes stepped out of the house and with my heart beating a mile a minute walked to Brenda's house. Hearing my knock, Brenda called out to come on in. She was upstairs, still dressing. Since I'd helped her so often prepare the table and kitchen for our luncheons, I knew this was her normal approach. She always waited to the last moment to get dressed, I think partly because she had a hard time choosing an outfit from all her clothes. Because the food had been delivered by the caterer, I began to put it out on the counter and check little details to be sure the table settings and flower arrangements were perfect. I was almost expecting it, when Brenda called me to come up and help her choose between two outfits. Going upstairs, I entered her bedroom and then disaster struck. She was standing there holding a leopard print pantsuit in one hand and in the other, a vest and short skirt. The pantsuit I had seen before, but the vest and skirt were new. As soon as I saw them, I knew they were the coordinating pieces to my jacket and pants outfit. I stood there, trapped and felt like I was going to have a heart attack. Brenda was in the middle of a sentence when she looked up and saw me. "Michael that is a lovely outfit. I love that look. You did a great job finding just the right accessories for it. Where do you get that jacket? I wanted one to go with my skirt, but they didn't have it in my size. I just love the way it comes down so far. What size is yours?" I didn't know what to do. I finally whispered where I had bought the jacket and its size. Brenda had a broad grin on her face, like a cat that had just swallowed a canary, and came over closer to me. "Well I thought you probably were smaller than me, and I'd need a 14 or 16 for that style of a jacket. Of course I'm a little bigger up top than you," she said with a laugh. "Do you wear an 11/12 in a skirt as well?" When I answered yes, she seemed delighted both in the size and the fact that it indicated I also wore skirts. "That's what I wear in pants and skirts as well. Most women are bigger in the hips than through the bust, but not me. It's nice to see someone else also has my situation when it comes to buying clothes. Would you be a dear and let me see what the skirt looks like with that jacket? If it looks as good as I think it will, I'll have to go where you shop and buy one." This was getting worse by the minute. I didn't know what to do. I certainly didn't want to take off my pants and show my girdle, etc., but she didn't seem like she would be willing to take no for an answer. I smiled and muttered that I was sure the combination would look good on her and she didn't need to see it on me. As I feared, she seemed not even to hear me. Looking at my legs, she began right where she left off. "Oh don't be silly. It will only take a second, go ahead and slip off your pants. Of course you'll need some different shoes. What size do you wear? I take it those are pantyhose and not trouser socks?" I softly replied that yes I was wearing hose, and I usually took a men's eight in shoes. That seemed to please her. "I thought you had a small foot. I've got a nice pair of gray pumps that should fit you and will look just great with your outfit." As she went into the closet, I decided my best approach was to quickly slip out of my pants and put on the skirt, and hopefully before she found the shoes. That way, at least my lingerie would remain a secret. Unfortunately, I had just removed the pants and was only beginning to put on the skirt, when Brenda emerged from the closet. "Oh Michael, that is a lovely shade for your girdle. It seems perfect with your hose. The ladies and I had wondered before why your pants usually looked so flat and smooth in front. We just assumed your male equipment was small. But now it makes perfect sense. Can I assume there are a matching bra and panties under your clothes as well?" My positive reply seemed to make her happy. She gushed compliments as I finished buttoning the skirt and slipped on her pumps. They did fit easily. After I walked back and forth and made a few turns, she confirmed that she must have the jacket to match her skirt. She then sent me back downstairs to finish the last details while she dressed. She soon joined me and we quickly had things ready. Then with a laugh she said. "I guess you better get upstairs and into your clothes, unless you're ready for the other ladies to know your little secrets." Relieved, I hurried upstairs and changed. The rest of the party went smoothly, and nothing was noticed by the other ladies. When the party was over, I quickly helped Brenda clean up and finally went home. She had said nothing else about my feminine clothes. Despite feeling sick to my stomach, I had hopes that this would remain just between us. I was certain that future luncheons would find me only in men's attire, not even panties under my pants. Then a couple of days later, I got another shock when Brenda called one evening. She hastily explained that her husband had just told her he was bringing some important clients over for dinner the next evening. She was in a horrible bind. Her regular maid was sick, the house was a mess, and her regular hair and nail appointments were scheduled for the next morning. She would have no time to get the house ready for visitors, let alone prepare a meal. She desperately needs someone to come in the morning, clean up, and start meal preparations. "Michael will you be a dear and help me? You clean house better than anyone else in the neighborhood and I know you can get the meal started as well. I'll leave a list on the kitchen table of what needs to be done, so it will be easy for you. Surely, you'd help out someone who's been willing to overlook your little indiscretions and keep your secret?" I knew I had no choice then but to agree. I told her I'd do it and found out what time she wanted me to come over. Just as I was getting ready to say good night and hang up, she asked me one more favor. "Michael, do you have other matching lingerie, maybe something in black lace? I want you to wear it and some nice sheer black hose. I'll have some shoes and something you can wear while you clean. I'm sure you won't mind doing that for me will you? Oh and by the way, please shave before you come. I think you'd look much prettier with smooth legs, chest, and arms." I was floored. It was bad enough that she wanted me in lingerie, but I couldn't shave. My wife would see for sure, and then everything would be out of the bag. I pleaded with Brenda, but to no avail. Her final comment was that I could surely have more success hiding my secret from my wife rather than all the neighborhood ladies ended my protests. The next morning I waited until my wife left for work and then quickly got in the shower and shaved as close as possible. It took me a while but soon I was silky smooth. The feel of the panties and hose on my denuded legs was erotic. I had thought about it many times, but now I was actually experiencing it. I quickly put on my bra and girdle, covered by a sweat suit and headed over to Brenda's house. She had left a note on the back door and I let myself in. There on the kitchen table was the list of chores and a clothing bag draped over the back of a chair. Opening it, my fears were confirmed. A standard black maid's dress that buttoned up the front and had a lace collar was in the bag along with some black pumps and a white lace apron. Another box on the table contained a few cosmetics, a pair of breast forms, and a lace ribbon for my hair. I got dressed, applied the make up, and pulled my hair back with the ribbon. Unlike previous dress up events, this one embarrassed me. It seemed like I had lost control. My fantasy was now real. Looking at myself in the hall mirror, I saw a sissy maid. What was worse I knew that I was no longer in control of my fantasy. I was Brenda's maid. I was her servant to order around, and to be on call as needed. It was obvious from my outfit that she had planned this in advance. It was not just helping another housewife in need, but rather it was establishing my role as her maid. Finally, I got started on my chores. That took me from my self pity and soon I had almost forgotten my situation. It was odd, the chores were familiar, but doing them in someone else's house made them new. Brenda was also quite explicit in the chore list. I did the best I could and suddenly I was jolted by a ringing sound. The phone, should I answer? Letting the machine get it, I heard Brenda's voice. "Go ahead and pickup. I know you're good at cleaning, but even the best maid wouldn't be done yet." Reluctantly I picked up the phone. She seemed delighted, asking if I liked my outfit, did the cosmetics seem ok, and how much more was left to do. She seemed satisfied with my answers and told me she was on her way home and telling me to make her a light lunch, just a salad. As I finished setting the table, I heard her car pull in the driveway. As she entered the house, she was beaming. It was obvious that she liked this scenario. "Look at you. That uniform is just perfect and your hair looks so cute in that lace bow. I assume you honored my request for black lace. I can see what a difference that shaving makes. Your legs are very pretty. Is lunch ready Michael? Laughing she continued before I could respond. I don't think that name fits any longer does it. How about I call you Missy from now on? My husband had a secretary named that, and it just seemed the perfect name for a submissive helper." So my transformation was complete. The rest of the afternoon went quickly. She directed me and watched my work. Finally, she suggested that I should change and go, before our spouses arrived home. She told me to go ahead and put the uniform and apron in the laundry for washing. "Don't worry I bought a couple of them. You can put on one of the others when you come over tomorrow. I'll need you to clean up from the party and do my washing. I'll have quite a bit of stuff to hand wash and Bill likes his shirts ironed. So you'll need to come over early. From now on, just come on in, go to the spare bedroom and get dressed. We'll leave your uniforms and accessories in there so you can get ready without having to bother me. Now scoot. I don't want to take all your time. I realize you'll still need to do your own house work." With that I changed and went home. It was now a totally new life for me. That evening I remained quite subdued around my wife, and was nervous about having silky smooth legs and body. However, she said nothing and we went to bed without an incident. I avoided her and wore pajamas to bed. The next few weeks were more of the same. I would leave for Brenda's after Ellen had left for work. Once there I would get dressed in my maid's uniform and do the assigned chores. She soon insisted that I do more with my hair and added a set of hot rollers to the make up a table in the spare bedroom. Every morning I would roll my hair, put on my make-up, and then brush out my hair in a wavy feminine style. I would also do my nails matching whatever shade of lipstick I was wearing. I was becoming quite good at both my feminine appearance and from Brenda's reactions, was just about a perfect maid. As a matter of course, she had inventoried my lingerie and decided that I needed more sets. So one morning she took all my measurements and went shopping. When she returned, I had several complete bra, panties, and panty girdle sets, in various matching colors. She opted for garters on all my girdles, so she also supplied me with multiple pairs of black, white, and smoky gray stockings. The underwear was to be coordinated with my maid's uniforms and it was a usual part of her inspection for me to show her the matching girdle and bra each morning after dressing. Further, she had added a monogrammed M to each item that was identical to the monogram Missy that adorned each of my maid's uniforms. Other than that, our relationship remained strictly businesslike until one afternoon. I had just changed to go back home when she called me into the kitchen. "Missy, I know everything during your tenure as my maid as been quite proper between you and me, but I'm troubled by the fact that Ellen knows nothing of our relationship. I would just die if she found out and suspected that we were having some sort of kinky affair. I know my husband Bill would also not quite understand." Thinking that this might be the end of my forced service, I quickly agreed. I didn't want there to be any chance of misconstrued purposes or any cause for jealousy. Pleased by my response, Brenda handed me a small package, telling me to open it. As I unwrapped it, I saw to my dismay that it was a locking chastity device. It was designed to fit snugly around my penis with a small lock to prevent removal without the key. Brenda proceeded to explain its purpose. "Missy, I want you to lock this on every morning before you come to my house. The key is to be left at your house and only upon your return are you to unlock it. That way if we are discovered, we can easily show that there was never any sexual activity and you are truly just my maid. I'll just need to know where you keep the key in case we ever have an emergency." I was stunned. Rather than being the end of my maid career, this looked like Brenda was planning for a lengthy extension. From then on, I added this little twist to my morning routine. For the next month, my service continued quite the same, with only a few unique additions. Brenda brought a lacy satin maid's uniform that sported a much shorter skirt and a deep V-neck. She paired this with a short crinoline, a black lace push up bra and a girdle brief with six garters. She would tell me in the morning if she wanted lunch served in the dining room. I then had to leave enough time to change into my serving uniform and put my hair up for the lace maid cap. This became a standard outfit if I was to serve her lunch during my day. It was much more revealing than my standard maid's uniforms and I never quite got used to it. Even though my girdle hid my chastity tube, it seemed to me that the bulge made it obvious. Also, the skirt bounced around the top of my stockings as I served her or brought her food to the table, constantly emphasizing my under things. I think she relished my embarrassment and it was quite usual for her to call me when she had been out shopping in the morning to tell me what she wanted for lunch and to be sure to change into my serving set. So I really didn't think anything was unusual when she called last Friday while she was out shopping and told me to prepare a chicken salad for lunch and open a bottle of wine. On most occasions, she ate alone, but infrequently she asked me to sit with her. So her request to set two places at her table on the secluded back porch did not ring any alarms for me. I had just finished setting the table, had put the wine in a cooler, and the salads were ready when I heard Brenda's car arrive. She entered the house cheerfully calling out my name. "Missy, is everything ready?" My affirmative answer was followed by her response. "Great I'm going upstairs to freshen up. Be sure to put some flowers on the table." I did as told, and when she came back down, I stood at attention for her inspection. I was a little surprised, she had changed her outfit and was wearing the skirt and matching vest that first started my servitude. She was a little more careful in her inspection than usual, and told me I need to touch up my lipstick. While I was in the bath applying a second coat of my deep red lipstick, I heard another car pull in the drive, followed shortly by the ring of the door bell. I was petrified, and even more so when Brenda told me to get the door for her guest. Walking slowly to the door, I was mulling over the many possible choices for which her guest might be. If it was her husband, he wouldn't have rung the bell. If it was a neighbor, my secret would be out and she would have little to blackmail me with. Arriving at the door, I took a deep breath, and opened it. When I saw who was there, I thought I would pass out. I stood there motionless, trying to decide what to do - I wanted to just slam the door and run. Instead I lightly spoke up, trying to use the breathy, soft voice Brenda asked to use when I served her. "Welcome to Ms. Krigg's house. May I take your coat and bag and tell her who is here?" I tried to be as formal as possible, not knowing what else to do. I wasn't sure if Ellen would know it was me, or how she would react. Finally, without any recognition, my wife Ellen stepped in and handed me her things. Looking at my embroidered name on my dress, she curtly addressed me. "Missy, I assume you're Brenda's new maid. She is expecting me for lunch." As she spoke, she looked me up and down and a small smile formed on her lips. At that point Brenda breezed into the hall and gave Ellen a big hug. "Ellen darling you look fabulous. That business suit is just stunning on you. And your hair looks great. That short style is just right with your face. I'm so glad you could come. I've missed chatting with you at the women's luncheons each week. Let's go sit and catch up on life." "Thank you, Brenda, you're always so nice. I missed you as well. Since, Mike lost his job I've had so much responsibility, it seems I never have time for myself or a chance to visit my friends. I appreciate you having me over." As they sat at the table, I began to pour their wine. Ellen looked up at me and smiled again. "Brenda, your new maid is darling. I can see why you were bragging so much about her. It's hard to believe her housework is as thorough as you say and she can still be so cute. I love that little dress." "Isn't it cute? I wanted Missy to have something really playful for serving meals. Her regular uniforms are nice, but this little outfit reminds me more of the theatrical look a maid would have in one of those old romantic comedies. I think it also helps her realize that a maid needs to remember her place, makes her a little more submissive when she does the rest of her work." With that, Brenda laughed and told me to get my cute little butt back to work and bring the lunch. Ellen and Brenda quickly lapsed into light- hearted chatter, gossiping about neighbors and the latest rumors. It was the same kind of exchange I usually took part in at the weekly women's lunches, but today it was obvious that I was to be silent. My role as a servant to Brenda had seldom been so defined. Even though she seemed not to recognize me, I was also still deeply worried about what Ellen would think if she realized it was me. I had made it thorough the entire lunch without a problem, and was clearing off the dishes, when Brenda spoke up. "Missy, go get one of your regular uniforms with the matching lingerie. Ellen wants to see what your normal attire looks like." "Yes, Mrs. Kriggs." With a quick curtsey, I went to the maid's quarters. I didn't know what this was about, but wanted it to be as least embarrassing as possible. So I grabbed the standard black dress, panties and bra. Brenda had me stand there and show Ellen my uniform. "Missy has several complete sets in various colors. It's usually her choice of color to wear, but in all cases her lingerie must match her uniform. Missy, you didn't bring your panty girdle. They're the same color as the bra and panty. I had them especially made, so the colors would match and they all have an M monogram to show they belong to her. So what do you think?" Ellen smiled during the entire time, just once reaching out to feel the dress fabric. Finally, she looked at Brenda and answered. "You've done very well Brenda. Missy looks as well trained as possible. The uniforms are nice. The everyday ones are functional, yet feminine. The matching lingerie is a perfect touch. I also agree with you about her serving attire. Really sets that submissive tone. I assume the cosmetics, accessories, and shoes were purchased for her as well. Everything matches so well. How much did it all cost?" Brenda sat there smiling proudly, but her response caught me off guard. "Not too much, and it was well worth it. She has certainly worked most of the cost off, and since you agree to let her come back once a week, it should be no problem." With that, I noticed Ellen pull a long gold necklace out from beneath her blouse. Hanging from the chain was two small brass keys. I recognized them right away. They fit the lock that was now holding the chastity tube snugly around my cock. I also recognized what that meant. Ellen was aware of everything and more. She had the keys to my future. I swallowed hard, and cleared my throat preparing to say something. What that was I didn't quite know yet. But before I could speak, Ellen cut me off. "Missy, I don't think we need to keep Brenda any longer. I want you to gather your uniforms and the rest of your things and take it back to our house. You can put them in your closet. They will be your daily outfit from now on. I need to get back to work, but I will be home at the regular time. As usual, I expect my dinner and a drink to be waiting. Only this time, you will be properly attired. After dinner tonight I will lay out any special rules for your future service. As I indicated, you will still come back and serve Brenda once a week. It's the least I can do for her gift of such a fine maid." I was totally stunned; apparently Brenda had told Ellen about this long ago and was preparing me for permanent maid service. As I stood there contemplating my new life, Ellen turned to Brenda once more. "One last thing Brenda, Missy can continue to help you for the neighbor lunches. I'm sure the ladies will get a kick out of her new look. Let me know the date, and I'll come to explain our new relationship. It will be great to see everyone again, and I can't wait to see their reactions. It is something I wouldn't miss for the world." And with a laugh she added, "I know Mike always told me how fun they were and I'm sure Missy will learn to love them as well."