The maid
- 4 years ago
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Home Maid free porn video
Home Maid
by dzdomme
We're going to college in the Fall, Jill and I.
Well, that might be a bit misleading. I won't be enrolled in the college
or take any classes, I'll be going with Jill as her uniformed sissy maid.
I couldn't possibly attend a real college, as I was not allowed to
graduate from High School.
Even that's not entirely true, Jill has said I am going to be taking
several cooking courses through a local community college, as well as
sewing lessons, and attending some cleaning seminars! She wants me to be
the most well trained servant I can possibly be.
I think, in order for this story to really make sense, I may need to go a
little further back.
My life changed completely on the day of my 16th birthday. My mother came
into my room and bent over my pink satin sheeted bed.
"Good morning, princess!" Mom said softly in my ear, which was sort of
our code for "You're going to be in full sissy mode today."
The odd thing was it was a school day. She never made me wear a frilly
dress or heels to school. Yet here it was, my 16th birthday, a
Wednesday, and I was apparently going to be spending it in lace and
ruffles.
You know, this storytelling thing is harder than it seems! It seems I
need to go even further back, if I want you to really understand the
chain of events that lead me to this particular role in life.
It's not my mother's fault, really. She didn't have some hideous plot or
plan to make me into a fully fledged sissy. It just sort of happened.
I can tell you the exact moment it began.
My father died soon after I was born. My mom tried her best to remain
happy and positive with me, but sometimes it was too much for her .
On one such occasion when I was still a very young child, we were
cleaning the house together. I could see the sadness forming in her eyes
and the set of her face. So I, at 6 years old, went and got one of the
ridiculously frilly aprons she had on a rack. These were not aprons
meant for use but for costume decoration.
If I had known that one apron would end up completely changing my life,
and destining me for a life as a feminized domestic servant, I probably
wouldn't have put it on.
When I came back to her, she exclaimed with glee about how precious I
looked.
The sadness I had seen earlier melted away. She fussed with the apron,
retying it into a proper bow, tugging the shoulder straps into the right
position, and generally focusing her attention onto this oh so feminine
garment.
And me.
We finished cleaning the house in a much lighter, more playful mood than
we'd ever done before. I took the apron off and returned it to its
rightful place, thinking no more of it for the moment.
The next weekend, when cleaning time came around again, I immediately
went and got my apron on. Mom fussed at me again, getting it into the
proper position and admonishing me to be careful not to ruin such a
pretty item.
Our weekend cleaning session was much more fun for both of us, she
referred to me as her 'little girl' and I reveled in the attention. When
we had finished, she took me out for a strawberry ice cream soda. She
made a big deal about how pink and cute the drink was. I barely even
noticed that I was still wearing my frilly apron.
Things continued like this for some time, the week would pass by with
nothing special, and then the weekend would be a festival of fun and
femininity. Mon took to calling me 'Felicity' because she thought it was
a prettier name and I was such fun to be around in my more girlish state.
Then, one weekend, everything changed.
Mom seemed a bit more serious when she looked at me than she had in ages.
Her brow got that 'serious thinking' look.
"Felicity, I want to ask you a question, and I want you to answer as
honestly as you can, okay? There's no wrong answer, don't worry!"
"Of course, mommy!"
"Good ... girl. Would you like to spend MORE time as Felicity? Not just
on the weekends? Would you like to wear things that match your pretty
apron?"
I remember this conversation as clear as day. If the apron opened the
door to my becoming a sissy, my response to her question sealed my future
as a feminized domestic servant. In my defense, I answered as I did
because I knew it would make her happy, not because I wanted to become
completely effeminate.
"Yes . Mommy! I would love to wear prettier clothing under my apron!"
"Good girl, Felicity! I am so glad to hear you say that! Let's go
shopping!"
And that was that.
We bought me tons of frilly dresses and skirts. Shoes, jewelry, and
everything else needed to complete my wardrobe change. Mom delighted in
picking out the most outrageously prissy little girl dresses for me to
wear, and I gushed in appreciation.
She went a little overboard, taking me to a salon where they bleached my
hair , gave it a curly perm and then dyed it a sissy pink. My ears were
given multiple piercings. My nails were done to match my hair.
I looked at the mirror in the salon, and for the first time it dawned on
me that I might have made a mistake. I looked like a total sissy.
Mom, noticed my change in demeanor, and asked me what was going on. When
I told her she laughed , and said,
"Of course you look like a sissy, Felicity! That's what you are! There's
nothing at all wrong with being a sissy! You're going to be so feminine
that every girl will be jealous of you! Starting today! You're going to
start wearing heels now! and you'll never wear anything that isn't
completely feminine ever again!"
And she was true to her word.
Things changed a bit between us at home as well. As feminine as the
dresses I wore in public were, they had nothing on the outfits I was
required to wear around the house. She had me take over all the cleaning
tasks, and I was given a set of incredibly sissy maid's uniforms to wear.
My closet was crowded with my uniforms, a different color for each day of
the week. I learned how to clean very well. I learned to do laundry and
dishes. Mom bought me a selection of cook books and made me learn at
least 2 new dishes per week.
On the weekends, we didn't need to waste time cleaning anymore. Mom liked
to dress me in party dresses and take me shopping or to the park. She had
me practice my lisp to make sure I always sounded like a perfect little
sissy.
Now, don't get me wrong, she wasn't doing this with even a minute amount
of malice. She was giving me the life she thought I wanted. And I kept
playing up my pleasure at her treatment, reinforcing her determination to
make me into the ultimate prissy girl.
I learned to always walk with a pronounced wiggle, to keep my butt and
chest out and my back arched. I minced around in my heels, with my elbows
tucked in towards my back and my wrists floating. With each change to my
mannerisms and appearance, I thanked her profusely.
The next school year I was dressed in 'boy' clothing during the day. In
this case that simply meant a pair of girl's pants and a plain blouse and
flat shoes. The fact that she kept my hair curly and pink made it
impossible for anyone to think I was anything but a sissy. Not even
mentioning the fact that I minced down the hallway like a complete fairy
princess. But mom and I pretended it was some great costume, and I
pretended to be SO relieved when I was able to return home to my proper
maids uniforms. I made sure mom saw how happy I was to pull on my cap and
apron, my petticoat, and heels.
Our relationship changed in more subtle ways as well. I curtseyed to my
mom when she entered or left a room, I spoke when spoken to, and I
referred to her as "Ma'am". She in turn referred to me simply as "maid".
I would stand in perfect silence with my hands folded in my lap, behind
her chair as she tasted the dinner I had prepared. When she signaled that
is was acceptable, I went and ate my own portion in the kitchen, like a
good servant should. At least, during the week. On the weekends we were
much more fun loving and informal.
By the time I was 10, I was already a perfect little sissy maid.
For my 12th birthday, I got some dolls, some patterns to make them
clothing, my first sewing machine, a set of 12 new uniforms, a handful of
'boy' items for school, 6 new weekend sissy dresses, and a couple of
prescriptions. Mom put me on a testosterone blocker as well as low dose
female hormones.
"Happy birthday, Felicity! These pills will help you become even more
feminine! You're young enough that you'll never develop any of those boy
traits! No shaving for you!"
When I realized the magnitude of what was going to happen to me, I was
stunned at first. But, like all the other changes in my life, I showed my
mom how happy I was that I was going to become an even bigger sissy. I
don't think she ever knew I had any doubts or regrets about the path my
life was taking.
She told me I would develop a feminine form, with boobs and a butt. I was
a bit frightened at the idea of needing to wear a bra instead of just
wearing one as sissy decoration. She misread my apprehension.
"Don't worry, sissy! If your boobs don't grow as large as you want, we
can always get you implants!"
I gave her a wide smile, as if that were the best news I'd ever heard.
And I hugged her, hard.
"Oh thank you mommy!"
"Now, go put on one of your new uniforms and get to your chores, maid.
I'll take you out to celebrate this weekend."
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am"
I toddled off on my new higher heels and followed her instructions.
Now, the thing about being a sissy maid is, there's not always a lot of
things that need doing. This is especially true if you are a good
servant.
I did my homework while attending to my duties as a domestic. My grades
were surprisingly good. I made clothing for my dolls, including a
selection of uniforms just like the ones I wore every day. I started
modifying my daily 'boy' clothing to make it even more blatantly sissy,
adding lace and ruffles, or other feminine embellishments.
Looking back, I realize that I had already come to think of myself as a
servant. I had adopted the idea of myself as a maid. I did research to
find out how to best be a perfect sissy maid. I actually cleared out a
space in the laundry room, amidst the mops and brooms, and moved my desk
and sewing equipment in. I begged my mom, incredibly politely of course,
to purchase a small intercom set up. One end was on her desk in her
office at home, the other I placed in the laundry room atop my 'sissy
station' as I came to think of it.
Mom drew the line when I asked her if I could have a tiny bed put in
there as well, to sleep with the other household cleaning supplies.
"You have a perfectly lovely canopy bed, Felicity! If you sleep in the
laundry room and become a household appliance, you'd have to give up your
pretty pink bed and any of your clothing that isn't a uniform. That would
mean no more pretty dresses and fun on the weekend! If you'd like, sissy,
we can move the cleaning supplies into your bedroom."
Lynne
- 05.08.2020
- 9
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