Maid For The Job - Chapter Four free porn video

Maid for the Job Chapter Four As my mother started to pull away out of the drive, I started to weep. "Careful now my dear, otherwise your mascara will run," she intoned. "And anyway, why are you crying?" "Embarrassment and relief." "What do you mean 'embarrassment and relief?" "Embarrassment that I am sitting here, your son, dressed like I am, and relief that now you are here you can take me away from this nightmare." "Oh my dear, there's no need to be embarrassed, you look simply adorable, and remember, not even I fully recognised you at first. As far as your relief is concerned, however, I am afraid you are very much mistaken. I am not here to rescue you. Mrs. Smith described very clearly your terms of employment and you're to work for one month from the date you wrote your letter of resignation." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "You can't seriously be taking me back there after what she's done to me," I protested. "What do you mean 'what she's done to you'. She's fed you, clothed you, given you accommodation and is paying you. Now listen to me, my girl," she continued in a sterner tone. "In these times you should count yourself lucky." "But I'm not a girl!" "Perhaps not, although after your experiments as a child maybe this is just bringing out something hidden deep within you." I remained quiet at this point, as this was something I had considered, albeit fleetingly, myself. "Either way, you are in the position for the next month so you should try to get the best out of it and enjoy yourself." "How can I enjoy myself?" "Are you seriously telling me that nothing over the past week has been enjoyable; having people pamper and praise you, the deep luxuriant baths Mrs. Smith tells me you've been having, the free access to a gym and not having to commute to work. Have you enjoyed none of that?" Reluctantly I agreed that all the things she had listed were actually quite nice, "but I still don't understand why I have to be dressed as a girl." "Mrs. Smith did explain to me that you've found it hard to adapt, but you must admit a female housemaid looks more the part than a male housemaid. She also explained to me her concerns about her husband 'playing' with a female housemaid. So has he?" "No," I replied, blushing, not wishing to go into detail about my boss 'playing' with me. My mother gave me a quizzical look and continued, "And are you seriously telling me that you haven't enjoyed wearing any of the lovely clothes you've. You must have done if you went out searching for something to wear from your boss's closet." Again I blushed because my mother was right; I had started to enjoy wearing some of the clothes. "The corset is really painful, but the satin pyjamas and nightdress I have feel nice," I admitted shyly. "Well, you'll get used to the corset I'm sure, but I'm glad to hear you like the feel of satin. Now, have you got any more complaints, or are we going to enjoy the rest of the day. "No, no more complaints," I mumbled, concerned about the idea of 'getting used to' the corset. "Good, because we're nearly at Marks and Spencer and I think it will be the perfect place to by an outfit for you to wear to school." I was a little surprised by this, but relieved in that at least I would not have to wear any of my maid's uniforms out of the house. =#= I had been shopping with my mother in Marks before, but never like this, and as we walked into the store, I was acutely aware of the click of our heels as we walked towards the coffee bar to get a cappuccino and plan my new outfit. Quite soon we had a list comprising dress, blouse, shoes and underwear, all in specific styles suggested by my mother, at which point she at what size I was. I confessed that the only thing I knew was that my breasts were a C, because I recalled that decision being made on my first day at Aunt Mary's. My mother was aghast at that and suggested we finish our coffees and go and find out. I stalled at that point, fully aware that Marks offered a measuring service and not wanting to be 'handled' by a member of staff in case of exposure. My mother quickly picked up on my concern. "Don't worry, dear. We'll just pop to the toilet together, as girls do, and check the sizes of what you are wearing," she said, trying to reassure me. When I protested about exposing myself in a public space, she relented and took me into the 'mother and baby' room instead. "Right dear, if you slip out of your dress I can check your sizes." As I started to undo the buttons, I hesitated, realising that for the first time my mother would see me clad in unmistakably feminine underwear. "Come on dear, it's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear before," my mother intoned, seemingly picking up on my apprehension. "Although I suppose it is in underwear like I suspect you're wearing." When I finished undoing the buttons, I let the dress drop to the floor, then stepped out of it. Picking it up, I stood there clad only in my cream, lacy lingerie and high heels. "Oh my," my mother gasped. "Turn round." As I did she added, "They've done a really good job haven't they." A look of concern crossed her face, "Is it permanent?" I reassured her that no, it wasn't permanent. The breasts were glued on and my thingy was tucked back between my legs. "Wow, you look fantastic," she continued, patting my front and cupping my breasts. "No one could tell even this close up. How does it feel being completely shaven?" "Actually I had a full body wax," I responded. "It does feel good, I suppose, particularly when wearing the stockings. Much better than having hairy legs and stockings I guess." "I'd say," she replied. "Right, anyway, let's get on with these measurements." From the clothes I was wearing, my mother found that I wore a 36C bra and that the knickers and dress I was wearing were both size 14. "Put the dress back on now dear, and let's go shopping." Grabbing a trolley we first headed for the dress department where my mother picked over a range of different styles all in charcoal grey, holding them up against me before selecting two and placing them in the trolley. As one of the two styles was a pinafore dress, we then headed to the blouse section. Deciding that short sleeves would be better, mother selected one cotton and one satin blouse, both in white, and added them to the trolley. We then headed towards the lingerie section, something I had always dreaded before. After discussing several possibilities, we decided that something that would protect my modesty would be appropriate and settled on a black, satin bra-slip with lace trim and detachable suspenders. I was pleased with the choices my mother had made, as I had been afraid that I might end up looking like some extra from a St. Trinian's film. When we reached the dressing room, the attendant checked how many items I had before showing me through to a vacant stall. Having already been in such a place before, I felt surprisingly confident and was happy for my mother to wait outside. Stepping out of my dress, I hung it up on the back of the door before unclipping my bra and allowing 'my' breasts to drop. Taking the slip from its hanger, I slipped my stockinged feet out of my shoes before stepping into the slip and pulling it up body. The feeling of the satin fabric against my nylon covered legs was quite sensual. Putting my arms through the straps, I reached round to close the bra clasp before adjusting my breasts to fit the cups. The garment could have been made for me, and I caught myself imagining what it would feel like with suspenders and stockings attached. Stepping into the first dress, I pulled it up and slipped my arms through the holes, and tried to pull the rear zip up. Struggling to get it done, I had to leave the stall and ask for my mother's assistance. After she showed me the easy way to do a zip up, she checked out the outfit before sending me back in to try the pinafore dress and blouse. I put on the cotton blouse and found the pinafore dress much easier to put on with the zip being at the side. Stepping out of the stall I went through the same check, twirl and check again from my mother before returning to change blouses. As soon as I put on the satin blouse I knew it was the one for me. The feeling of the soft material was so sensual, and the sight of my manicured hands doing up the buttons 'the wrong way' seemed almost natural. When I stepped out, my mother could see in my eyes that I preferred this outfit and totally agreed. "Right, time to get changed back to normal because the outfit isn't done yet." Returning to the stall I was almost disappointed as I took off the slip. Putting my bra back on, I changed back into my floral dress, and then carried the clothes out to the attendant. Leaving the first dress and cotton blouse with her, I took the rest to my mother who was waiting with the trolley. "What do you mean 'the outfit isn't done yet'?" I asked. "Well you need some undies to go with the slip, some shoes, a school bag and a coat I think." As we were near the lingerie section, we headed there first and I chose a couple of pairs of midi knickers in the same style as the slip. My mother also suggested picking up some support knickers to keep my thingy discrete, so I picked up a couple of nude colour support thongs. Moving to the footwear section, my mother picked up some 40 denier black stockings that she felt would go with the dress. "What footwear do you have at the moment," she asked. When I listed everything I had, she added, "None of that sounds appropriate so let's look for something new." She eventually settled on a black, patent, T-bar design with two buckles and a two and a half inch heel. When I sat on the chair, she slipped off my brown sling-backs and slid the school shoes onto my feet. Once she had buckled me in, she instructed me to stand and walk to and fro. The shoes seem to have been made for me and were by far the most comfortable of the heeled shoes I had. Mother was also pleased and they were added to the trolley along with a wide black leather belt. The handbag she chose was larger than the brown one I had bought the other day as it was a shoulder bag. She chose black leather to go with my shoes. That led finally to the coat. We decided that a waterproof mac might by better than a cold proof coat as it was the summer, and my mother picked out single breasted and double breasted styles to try on. We both agreed on the single breasted and my mother went to put the black coat I had tried on in the trolley, but I hesitated. "What's the problem, darling," she asked. "Not getting second thoughts are you?" "It's a bit late for that isn't it," I replied. "No, it's not that. I'm just not sure about the black. I've always liked purple and think I'd rather have this one," I continued, pointing to a coat that said 'dusted plum' on the label." "Oh fantastic, my dear," my mother responded, "I'm so glad you're engaging with the process. Now is there anything else you need?" she asked as I swapped the black coat for the plum one. "No," was my simple response. I had done what I had to do and now wanted to leave. "Well, let me treat you to something. You've said how much you like your satin nightdress, and you've just reminded me about how much you like the colour purple. Well, as I was waiting for you to try on the outfits earlier I spotted something you might like. Follow me." I followed her to the nightwear section, and immediately knew what she meant. The store had just released a new 'glamour' line of nightwear and there, in the middle of the section, was a mannequin wearing a long length, deep purple, satin nightdress with gathers under the cups and lace around the cleavage. "What do you think of that?" my mother asked. "I already have a nightdress," I replied. "That's not what I asked. What do you think of it?" "It looks lovely," I had to admit. "But I don't need another one." "Need is not important here. I want to treat you. How often do I get to buy you beautiful, glamorous nightwear?" She didn't stop at the nightdress. She insisted I had to have the complete set with matching gown, knee length chemise and cami pyjama set with trousers and shorts. As I pushed the trolley to the checkout the pile of purple satin shimmered in front of me and I couldn't help myself in feeling some anticipation at the thought of wearing such lovely nightwear, perhaps even that very evening. At the checkout I didn't look at how expensive all these purchases were, after all, it was my mother's treat, if only for the next few weeks. I just stood there, the dutiful 'daughter', waiting to carry the bags when the cashier handed them to me. Back in the car, my mother turned to me. "Now that wasn't so bad was it darling?" "No too bad, I suppose," I responded half-heartedly. "Oh come now, you can do better than that, especially after all the money I've just spent on you, and don't tell me you're not looking forward to trying on that lovely new nightdress." "Thank you, mother," I answered, and then half-truthfully but mainly wanting to appease her, I added, "Yes, I can't wait to see what it looks like on me." "Well, perhaps you should try it on before I leave this evening. Now where for dinner?" =#= We decided on a new Italian restaurant that had just opened, and the conversation over dinner was so normal that I almost forgot that the situation was anything but. However, the good food, wine and distraction of chatting about anything other than me and my new role helped calm my nerves and I began to enjoy myself. Towards the end of the meal, I started to feel uncomfortable and my mother obviously picked up on this. "What's wrong, dear?" "I need to go to the loo," I whispered. "Ladies tend to say 'I'm going to powder my nose' rather than anything more crude. Anyway what's the problem?" I stared at my mother in disbelief. What's the problem! "I can't go to the boys room looking like this," I whispered even more quietly. "Of course not, and why would you, you're a girl." I was shocked by her candidness, but decided she must have said it to quell any possible questions from eavesdroppers. "Do you want me to go with you," she asked, "Girls often do." I nodded, the got up and followed her to the toilets. She waited outside the cubicle while I did my business, whispering "Don't forget to sit down" in my ear as I went in. When I came out and washed my hands she suggested I might want to 'touch up' my make up and so, copying her, I dug some lipstick out of my handbag and reapplied it. Returning to the table, my mother asked for the bill, then stood up saying, "Home sweet home." For one fleeting moment I thought everything was as normal, that we had just gone out for dinner and were going back home as we had done many times before. It was only when I stood up and felt the tug of the suspenders against my thighs, and the weight of the breasts moving on my chest, that I remembered what home meant, and knew that there was no way my mother was not going to take me back. =#= As we returned to the house, the lights were on, but there was only one car in the drive. Mr. Smith had obviously already gone back to the city where he worked. As we walked through the door I heard Mrs. Smith call out from the sitting room, so I took my mother in to see my boss. "Did you have a good time," she asked. "Oh we had a lovely time," my mother responded before I had the chance to say anything. It was so lovely to spend time with my new daughter, and I'm sure you'll like the outfit we chose for school. I also went a bit over the top and bought her some beautiful nightwear. I hope you don't mind." "Not at all. Perhaps Stephanie might model some for me later." "Well I did say I'd like to see her in it before I left," responded my mother, "Perhaps you should go now Stephanie and try it on then you can show both of us, if that's alright. You can show me your room later." I was about to respond when my boss interrupted. "Of course that's alright, off you go Stephanie." With no option other than to obey, I picked up my bags and turned to go upstairs. As I did so, I heard my mother start a new line of conversation, praising the 'work' I had had done. =#= Up in my room, I dumped all the bags on my bed, and dug out the long nightdress and gown. I then proceeded to remove shoes, cardigan and dress. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I unclipped my stockings and rolled them down my hairless legs. When I stood up to remove the garter belt, I picked up the nightdress and held it against my body, looking at my reflection. I shivered as I held the sensuous material against my skin. I then let it slide down over my arms and head. As the soft fabric flowed down my body, it made a 'shoosh' sound, and I couldn't help but let out a little moan of excitement. Looking at my reflection was stunning. There was no hint of boy about what I could see, although that was mainly because I was wearing a thong. The feeling of wearing this beautiful garment was certainly arousing! Trying not to think about it too much, I removed the gown from it's padded hanger and tied the belt around myself. The way it was cut, combined with the bra I was wearing, really accentuated my cleavage, and the delicate necklace my boss had lent me hung perfectly between my breasts. Slipping into the fluffy slippers, I padded downstairs. =#= The two ladies were still chatting about me as I entered the room. "Oh my, that is glamorous," my boss intoned. "Do give us a twirl and undo the belt so we can see the dress." Following her commands, I did as instructed, and they both seemed to be pleased and impressed, which in turn pleased me. Picking up some courage, because I didn't really like being on display, despite all their nice comments, I suggested I might be excused so I could prepare for tomorrow and get some sleep. "Of course, Stephanie, well said. Perhaps you would like to say goodbye to your mother first," my boss suggested. "Indeed, I need to be getting along," my mother added getting up. "You say your goodbyes here Stephanie," Mrs. Smith suggested. "I'll show your mother out. We can't have you catching a chill dressed like that." "I'm so proud of you my dear," my mother said, "Do be a good girl for Mrs. Smith. I will see you again soon." I gave my mother a kiss on both cheeks and gave Mrs. Smith a curtsey and then left them as Mrs. Smith showed my mother to the front door. =#= Returning to my room, I took off the gown and nightdress and laid them carefully on the bed for when I'd finished unpacking. I put away the rest of my new nightwear in my chest of drawers, and prepared my three outfits for the next day; day uniform for breakfast, school outfit and evening uniform. Once my outfits were hanging ready, I went to the bathroom to prepare for bed. Returning to my bedroom, I sat at the dressing table and removed all my make-up before moisturising as I had been advised. Standing up I removed the bra and thong, placing them in the laundry, before picking up the nightdress again. Once again it made the 'shoosh' as the fabric flowed down my skin. This time I was completely naked underneath, and the feeling of the delicate fabric in contact with my body was overpowering and my thingy reacted immediately. As I smoothed the fabric over my body I became overcome by the sensuality of the experience. Lying on the bed, my manicured hands roamed all over my satin encased frame, caressing my breasts, thighs and groin. I reached down to the hem of the nightdress and pulled it up, my hands eager to find my erect member, and before I knew it I was masturbating while continuing to caress my body through the satin. It didn't take long before I exploded over the sheets. After a while lying there in peace, I reached over for some tissues to clean myself and the bed up. I then slipped on a pair of cotton briefs to stop any seepage ruining the nightdress. As I turned out the light, I fell asleep forcing myself to admit that I had just become sexually aroused by wearing feminine clothes. Perhaps today was a turning point in this whole experience. Perhaps, as my mother had suggested, I could enjoy myself. =#= I served my boss breakfast in bed as usual the next morning dressed in my standard day-time uniform. As I turned to leave the room, she called out. "Stephanie, you may as well get changed straight into the school wear your mother bought you yesterday as we have to leave at 9." "Yes, ma'am," I replied. "I'm not sure what underwear you were planning on," she added, "but I am quite sure Aunt Mary will be expecting you to wear your corset. If you need any help, just pop back in here and I'll give you a hand." "Yes, ma'am," I replied again as I turned to leave the room, equally dismayed at the fact that I had to wear to constrictive corset all day, and that I could not wear my new slip. My disappointment that I couldn't wear my new slip turned to joy when I realised that I had tried the clothes on at M&S without the restriction of a corset, so even though I had to wear one, it wouldn't need to be tight. Putting on one of my nude support thongs, I got dressed in corset, stockings, bra and knickers. When I put on the blouse, I was so pleased I had gone for the satin one as the feeling was simply wonderful. After putting on the dress, I sat down and applied my makeup, going for something discrete, not wanting to look like the girls I remembered from school who always used to wear way too much. Once I was satisfied that I had got it just right, I put on my shoes, grabbed my handbag and coat and went downstairs to meet Mrs. Smith. She seemed pleased with my outfit and particularly liked the fact that I had gone for something different colour-wise with the coat. Pulling up outside Aunt Mary's, my boss turned to me. "Do you want me to take you in for your first day at school?" "I'm sure I'll be fine," I responded. "I'll pick you up here then at 4. Have a good day," she said, and leaned in to give me a kiss, before adding, "Good luck." Stepping out of the car, I watched as she drove away, and suddenly felt a mixture of freedom and fear. For the first time I was alone outside, I could escape! I could go anywhere and nobody would know. I could even go to the police and report that I had been kidnapped. As I stood there thinking about the alternatives, however, the restrictive feel of the corset, the pain of standing in high heels, and the weight of my handbag on my shoulder all brought me back to reality. Where could I go? Would the police really believe me if I turned up and reported my kidnapping? Had I actually been kidnapped or was this all voluntary? The clincher was that while I was standing there thinking, I heard the front door open, and Aunt Mary calling out. "Come on Stephanie. We can't wait for you all day, and you are the last to arrive." Seemingly having no other option, I turned on my heels, tried to put on a smile and started my first day at school. =#= Once I had hung up my coat and handbag, Aunt Mary lead me into the classroom. There were eight desks and five of them were occupied. All the other students were dressed in a variety of female school uniforms, but I wondered how many were real girls, and how many were like me. "Good morning class." "Good morning ma'am," the other students all responded. "Today we have a new student starting. Her name is Stephanie." "Good morning Stephanie," came the chorus. "Good morning," I replied quietly. "No need to be shy, Stephanie. We're all friends here," Aunt Mary said, giving me a reassuring pat on the back. "Why don't you go and sit at the desk next to Fran?oise." Looking to where Aunt Mary was pointing I saw the girl she had named Fran?oise was a giving me a big, welcoming smile. As I walked towards my allotted desk, I couldn't take me eyes off her. Her rich, brown hair was cut in a shoulder-length bob, and her delicate makeup really enhanced her natural beauty. As I sat down, she leaned towards me. "Bonjour, welcome," she said quietly in a beautiful French accent while she held out her hand. "Thank you," I responded, as she squeezed the hand I had offered reassuringly. "When you two have quite finished," Aunt Mary said, interrupting our greeting. "Sorry ma'am," Fran?oise responded and I followed suit, turning to listen to what we would be doing during the day. The outline of the school day would be simple, two sessions in the morning and two after lunch, and each day there would be sessions on beauty, housekeeping, deportment and fashion. The days would be structured to our own needs and sometimes we would work individually, in pairs or all together. There would be a mid morning and mid afternoon break, with lunch in the middle of the day. My first day was to begin with a whole class session on hair styles. Each of us was given a head mannequin and we were to attempt to copy the styles that Aunt Mary created on her own mannequin. Never having done anything like this before, I really struggled, and was glad of the assistance I received from Fran?oise. At the end of the session, I had just about managed to reach a standard that Aunt Mary found acceptable. At break time we all went to a lounge to have tea and biscuits that were served by a young woman wearing a maid's outfit similar to the one I had. I smiled at her knowing how she must be feeling and she gave me a warm smile back. Fran?oise took it upon herself to introduce the rest of the class to me. "This is Natalie and Clare," she started pointing towards two timid looking girls in matching outfits. "Morning," they said, before returning to their conversation. As I looked at them, I couldn't be sure, but I felt one of them might not be a real girl. The next student definitely wasn't a real girl. Sitting there in a St. Trinian's style outfit, he looked thoroughly miserable. "This is Richard," Fran?oise said by way of introduction. Richard grimaced as he heard his obviously masculine name. "He was caught by his wife with a call-girl dressed in a school-girl's outfit, so his wife thought he should try wearing one and going to school." Richard blushed at Fran?oise's frankness, but at least it explained his appearance. It turned out that as well as the uniform, his wife also stipulated that at all times he should be referred to in the masculine and never feminised. It had to be obvious he was a man wearing a school- girl's outfit. I thanked my lucky stars that at least I had been given the chance to try to pass as a woman. "This is Alexandra," she said lastly, pointing towards a girl who was unmistakably Russian and strikingly beautiful." "Greetings. Are you a real girl or a sissy like Richard here?" she asked harshly. "Alexandra!" Fran?oise exclaimed. Turning to me she added, "Ignore her, she obviously got out of the wrong side of bed this morning." As Alexandra harrumphed, Fran?oise continued talking to me. "I am sure you will learn all of our stories soon, and us yours. Me, I am the daughter of the French ambassador and he wanted me to learn how to be an English woman. I only come here one day a week. The rest of the time I work in a small clothing boutique in town." As she was about to continue, the maid returned. "The next lesson is about to start. Natalie, Clare, Alexandra and Richard," as she said Richard's name, Natalie and Clare giggled, "You are to join Aunt Mary in the classroom to learn some techniques for cleaning silver. Fran?oise and Stephanie, you are to join me in the kitchen. Your housekeeping lesson today will be preparing lunch." This made me really happy as it meant I could continue to spend time with Fran?oise, and as we followed the maid into the kitchen chatting, I realised that Fran?oise and I had quite a lot in common and I so hoped we would be friends. When we got to the kitchen, the maid, who introduced herself as Angela, told us that we would be making Chicken Caesar salad for lunch and that she would be assessing us. As she said this she handed us two aprons to protect our uniforms and then left us to it. I was in my element as I love cooking. It quickly transpired that Fran?oise's experience in the kitchen was limited, and she was happy for me to take the lead. The time flew by, and I honestly never once thought about the strangeness of the situation. An hour and a half later, lunch was ready and Angela went to call Aunt Mary and the other girls through to the dining room. By each place setting, we had also put a feedback sheet so the diners could give comments about what we had produced. As they started eating, it was clear that the salad was a success, and the Eton Mess that followed went down a treat. At the end of the meal Angela brought the sheets in, and as we had hoped, all the diners gave positive feedback. When Angela added that we had been assessed as very good in the cooking task as well, Fran?oise and I leapt for joy and turned round to give each other a hug and kiss. For the first time since the morning break I remembered that I was a man, who wanted to be kissing Fran?oise as a man, not as a girl. I wondered if she already knew. Once we had tidied up, were we told to get ready for the third session of the day, deportment, only this time I was not going to be with Fran?oise. As she went to join the other students in the classroom to watch a video, I was told to follow Angela. As we went up stairs, I thought we would be going to the room where my dressing began only a week ago, however, as we approached the top of the stairs, we turned the opposite way and went into another large room. This one had a bed similar to the one in the beauty salon, a chair, screen and a table with a variety of items on it. Take off your shoes, dress, blouse and bra, then lie down on the bed please Stephanie," Angela instructed, "I shall let Aunt Mary know you are ready." Not knowing what else to do, I followed the instructions and went Aunt Mary returned shortly after, I was lying on the bed in corset, knickers and stockings but nothing else. "Well done, my dear," Aunt Mary praised me. "Before we start can you stand up and let me have a look at you." Unsure of what we were about to start, I stood up anyway, and following her instructions, I walked up and down in my stockinged feet and turned around when she said. After a little prodding and poking, she seemed satisfied with what she saw, and told me to lie back down. "I'm slightly disappointed that Martha hasn't made you where the corset tighter. I shall have to talk to her about that. Now, your breasts," she continued, as I was alarmed to hear about the plan for more corset control. "They're not too bad, but they are showing signs of wear and it is about time they were changed. The procedure is quite simple, but might hurt a little so I will start by injecting a local an?sthetic under the edges of the breast forms so it doesn't hurt when I pull them off." Before I could protest, I felt a slight prick in my right side followed by my left. "Now I am going to use a release agent on the edges to dissolve the glue." Slowly but surely, she swabbed around the edges of the breast forms with the release agent, and before long they came away in her hands. For the first time in a week I was back to having a masculine chest, and the lack of weight felt strange. Before any thoughts of a possible return to normality kicked in, she continued. "Now I'm going to continue to clean up the residue of the glue that remains on the skin." Could it be that I was going to be returned to normal, without breasts? Escape would still be difficult given the clothes I was wearing and the rest of my appearance, but it would be a start. Once again, my thoughts were interrupted. "Now, I am going to apply a moisturising lotion to your skin because it is looking a little dry. It might tingle a little because your skin has not been exposed for a week." As she applied the lotion, it did tingle, but not too much. It felt a little like the feeling I got when I used the lavender bath foam. As the moisturising lotion sunk in, I continued my thoughts of escape, but it should have been obvious it would not be that easy. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Aunt Mary cleaning of the remaining glue from the breast forms and getting ready to apply new glue. She obviously sensed something was up. "Are you thinking of escape?" she asked, turning to me suddenly. I froze. "If you are, consider this, you have a verbal contract with your employer. However, if you want to go, please do, but you must go dressed exactly as you are now." I lay there still. "Well, are you leaving?" I muttered a response. "I couldn't hear that." "No," I replied, and then as an after thought added, "ma'am." "And why not?" "Because I am afraid of being caught," I responded. "So would you like me to reapply your breast forms so that you can continue at school today and go home with a pat on the back for being a good girl?" Knowing I had no other choice, I responded weakly, "Yes ma'am." With a smile on her face, Aunt Mary reapplied my breasts, then handed me my bra so I could support them while the glue set, just as I had done the week before. "Now, before you get dressed, let's just tighten the corset up a little." I was about to protest, but knew that it would be hopeless, so I raised my arms and let her tighten the cords. When I put the dress back on I needed to use the next hole on the belt because she had done it up so tight. After I did up my shoes, I followed Aunt Mary down to the lounge for afternoon break. No one was there so I had to wait for them. Fran?oise was first in, and came rushing over to me. "Is everything alright?" she asked with concern in her eyes. "Yes, everything's fine," I responded. "What happened?" she continued. Just as I was deciding how to respond, Alexandra walked in. "I'll tell you another time," I said. =#= The last lesson of the day was fashion, and we learned how to make fascinators the likes of which you see people wearing on ladies day as Ascot. I was particularly keen or interested in the activity, but I gave it my best shot, and once again met with Aunt Mary's approval. At the end of the school day, we all waited in the lounge to be picked up. I was first as my boss was keen to see how things had gone. As I saw her arrive and be greeted by Aunt Mary, I turned to say my goodbyes to Fran?oise. When I told her I had to go because my boss was here to pick me up, she seemed interested to know that I worked as a housemaid. I told her I was sad to go, but she reassured me that we would see each other again soon. As I got in the car and waited for my boss to finish with Aunt Mary, Fran?oise waved at me from the front door before walking over to the two other ladies and having a brief conversation. She turned and waved at me again, before going back inside with a smile on her face. =#= On the way back home, my boss was keen to hear all about the day as she said she had heard such good things about me from Aunt Mary. I was reluctant to go into too much detail, but evidently Aunt Mary had told her everything. "I hope your chest isn't too painful," she said. "No," I responded, having quite forgotten the breast replacement. I had obviously become used to the extra weight. =#= Back at the house, I changed out of my school dress and blouse and hung them up ready for the following week. As I stood there looking at my feminine form in the mirror, it seemed hard to remember what it was like to be a boy, and it seemed only natural to reach for the evening uniform blouse and skirt. As I did the blouse up the 'wrong' way, I realised that I hadn't even had to think about it. As I slid the skirt up my hairless, nylon covered legs and did the rear zip up, it felt natural; and I slid my feet into the 2 inch black patent shoes, the change to my poise seemed right. =#= I prepared and served dinner for my boss as she sat in the dining room reading her correspondences. I ate my dinner by myself in the kitchen, leafing through her latest magazine. When she rang the bell, I collected the remains of her meal and asked if there would be anything else. When she said no, I asked if it would be okay to go to bed early as I was tired from the excitement of the day. "Of course its fine, my dear," she responded. "You have a good rest tonight as you're back to work tomorrow. Goodnight." When I got back to my room, I decided that rather than go straight to bed, I would have a nice long bath. When I sink into the hot, foamy water, the smell of the lavender bath foam is, as always, intoxicating. The feeling on my skin is tingly as usual, but this time, where Aunt Mary had been fixing my breasts, there is a new tingling that I had not felt before. I put it down to the anaesthetic wearing off and close my eyes and relax. As I dry myself off, I am disappointed to realise that after my 'accident' the previous night, my new nightdress needs washing as do the sheets. Wrapping my towel around myself, over the breasts to protect my decency, I change the bed, and then reach for the cami pyjama set that matches the nightdress. Slipping it to bed and turning off the light, it doesn't take long before I am fading out, and tonight, rather than some vulgar response to the beautiful nightwear, I am simply absorbed by the femininity of the situation. =#= To be continued...