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From Man to Maid Donna and I had been living together for six months when the changes started. It was a Friday night and I was the first to arrive at our apartment after work. Then I heard a key in the front door. Donna came bounding into the living room with a huge grin on her face. I rose to greet her. She wrapped her arms around me and we kissed. "How was your day Bill?" "Same shit, different day. Answer the phone. Stare at the computer screen. Process the paperwork. As you know, being an insurance adjuster isn't the most glamorous job in the world." "I know darling. That horrible man you work for just doesn't appreciate your talent. But wait till you hear my good news. Meet the new Vice President of Marketing! As of Monday my salary will basically double. Now let's you and I go into the bedroom and celebrate my promotion." She grabbed my hand and pulled me into our bedroom. She pushed me back on our bed and pulled my pants down before getting on top of me. Normally I am the one who initiates sex. It was so out of character for Donna to be the aggressor. It was also out of character for her to be on top with me on my back. At any rate the sex was great. I seemed to last longer than usual; maybe because she was setting the pace. I'm pretty sure she had two orgasms before I finally shot my load. We ordered in a pizza for supper, watched a little TV and went to bed after the news. Two nights later Donna initiated sex again. It was a repeat of prior time. She got on top; took control and rode me to an orgasm. Only this time when I shot my load she slid up my chest and squatted down on my face, telling me to lick her. We had never done oral sex before. She had hinted at it a couple times, but now she was basically demanding that I lick her cum filled pussy. I wanted to refuse, but my head was pinned between her thighs and there was nothing I could do to avoid the disgusting act. Finally I relented. At the end she had a very vocal orgasm and I wound up swallowing everything I licked from her crotch which included my own emissions. This pattern continued for several months. I guess if you do something often enough you sort of learn to accept it and it basically became part of your routine. During this time her career blossomed, while mine flat lined. She got a huge bonus check and another big raise after her first review. In my own performance review my boss said if I didn't show improvement he would have to terminate me. One Saturday morning Donna was up before me. When I finished showering and got dressed she was in the living room on her phone. She put the phone down, looked up at me and said, "Hey Bill, guess what we're going to do today?" "I don't know. Grocery shopping?" "No silly, we're going house shopping?" "Donna, I haven't had a raise in five years. There's no way I can afford to own a home now." "With my new salary I can afford to buy a home. I can't wait to get out of this dumpy apartment and into a real home." "But we've been splitting the rent here fifty-fifty. How would I be able to pay my half of the mortgage and utilities and stuff?" "Bill, I'm going to buy a house. It will be my house; not our house. Of course I want you to move in with me. But please don't worry about the money side of it. Since I'm working more hours in my new position, I'll rely on you to take care of things at home. You can start doing all the cooking, the laundry and cleaning. You know how much you enjoy cooking. You can be my house maid. That way you can earn your keep without having any out of pocket expenses. How does that sound?" "Where will I find time to do all the housework while holding down a full time job?" "I see no point in you wasting your time at that insurance agency when you can be helping take care of me and my house instead." "Actually that sounds pretty great Donna. I love cooking, and I don't really mind doing laundry and housework. Staying home and taking care of things there would be a hell of a lot better than working for that asshole and pushing paper across my desk all day. If you want me to be your maid I'll gladly say yes." We looked at six houses and she made an offer on one. After a couple of counters it went under contract and she closed on it two weeks later. The house was huge; almost a mansion. Five bedrooms, six baths, living room, dining room, den, office, exercise room, professional kitchen, a four car garage, and servant's quarters. The whole place was already fully furnished. The sellers were going back to China and didn't want to ship furniture that far. There was even a grand piano, a massive grandfather's clock and lots of other luxurious furnishings. Donna decided to leave all our old furniture in the apartment so when we moved in all we took were clothing and personal items. Our old landlord was happy to get our furniture since he could charge more rent for a furnished apartment. It took three trips in her car to get all the stuff we were taking with us moved. I helped carry her clothing up into the master bedroom while Donna organized her closet. Then I carried up an armload of my clothes and approached her in the bedroom. "Oh, your stuff stays downstairs Bill." "What do you mean?" "You'll be sleeping in the maid's room off the back of the kitchen." "The maid's room? I want to sleep with you, not alone in that little servant's room." "But Bill darling, you agreed to become my maid. It is hardly appropriate for a maid to sleep in the same bed as her mistress." "But ..." "No buts. I've made my decision. If you're going to be my maid you'll live like any other maid. Of course if you change you mind you're free to leave at any time." "I don't want to leave you Donna. I love you. I just want it to be like it was back in the apartment is all." "Back there we were sort of like equal partners sharing the expenses. Buy going forward it's not a partnership. I am your employer and you are my maid. Of course we can still have sex from time to time, but on a day to day basis I am in charge here. Do you understand?" "Yes I understand Donna. If you want me to sleep in the maid's room I will." "How do you think a real maid would address her mistress?" "I don't know. I suppose she would call you Miss Carson, or just Miss or maybe Mistress." "But a real maid would never be on a first name basis would she?" "No I guess not." "So from now on, you'll refer to me as Miss Carson, or Mistress. Alright?" "Yes alright. Alright Miss Carson." "Now then, how should I address you going forward? Bill is hardly an appropriate name for a ladies maid is it?" "My legal name is William, but I've always gone by Bill." "William. Hum. Willa, Wendy, Wanda. Which do you prefer?" "Donna I don't want a girl's name." "What did you just say?" "I said I don't want a girl's name." "Before that?" "I said Don ... I should have said Miss Carson, I don't want a girl's name." "What you want or don't want is irrelevant. Now which do you prefer, Willa, Wendy or Wanda?" "I guess Wendy is a kind of normal girl's name." "Very good. Now Wendy please go unload the rest of my car and hang your clothing in your new closet. I have to do some emails for work." "Yes Miss Carson." She left me alone in the maid's room. The room was actually not that bad; it was about the same size as the bedroom in our old apartment. There was a big walk in closet and an adjoining bathroom with toilet, sink and tub. It was all decorated in what I thought of as a feminine style with pink flowered wallpaper. It was an interior room so there were no windows but the lighting was good. There was a single bed, dresser, end table and a vanity or makeup table with lighted mirror. Other than the bed the only place to sit was on a wooden stool which sat in front of the makeup table. We spent the balance of the weekend settling in. I did some major grocery shopping and filled the refrigerator, freezer and pantry with enough food for a couple weeks. Donna, or Miss Carson as I now must call her, mostly did office work while I did the housework and prepared our meals. We ate our meals together in the dining room. Monday morning after a quick breakfast Donna headed off to work leaving me alone for the day. I was so happy not to have to drag my ass back to that office job I hated. I busied myself with housework, laundry and ironing. I know it's not a glamorous job but the reality is that most jobs are anything but glamorous. I liked that when I completed a task there was tangible evidence of what I had accomplished. The bed was made; her blouses were ironed. The dust was gone. My new job sure beat pushing paper across a desk in a cubicle all day. So what if she wants to call me Wendy. I guess since maids are almost all girls, maybe it makes sense to give me a girl's name; a proper name for a maid. She got home about six that evening. I opened a bottle of wine and served her a glass in the den. I had a roast in the oven and worked on the rest of dinner while she relaxed after her a long day. When dinner was ready in the dining room I went back to the den. "Dinner is ready Miss Carson." "Thank you Wendy. I'll be right in." She sat at the end of the large dining room table, which could seat twelve people. I served her plate and then moved to sit beside her. "I've been thinking Wendy, it's really not appropriate for a maid to dine with her mistress is it?" "No Miss Carson, I suppose usually the maid would serve the mistress and then eat her meal in the kitchen after that." "Yes that is precisely what I was thinking. Why don't you just stand over by the side table and wait while I eat. Then you can clear and have you meal in the kitchen." With some reluctance I stood at the side table watching my love eat her dinner. On one occasion she told me to refill her water glass and later to refill her wine glass. Other than that I just stood there uncomfortably. When she stood to leave I cleared the dining room table and stood at the kitchen counter to eat a quick bite. I loaded the dishwasher and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. Then I went to the den, hoping to get lucky in the romance department. "Miss Carson I was wondering if ... like you wanted to have sex tonight?" "That's very thoughtful of you Wendy. I got wound pretty tight at work today and I think an orgasm right now would do wonders for me." She stood and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. She pulled down her panties. She was wearing a garter belt with stockings and that stayed on. I approached her and started to wrap my arms around her. She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed down until I was kneeling on the floor, my face at eye level to her pussy. She spread her legs apart and put her hands on the back of my head, guiding me to the target. Normally she would ride my cock first before I went down on her, but this time she ignored my cock as I licked at her pussy. With my tongue hard at work it didn't take long for her to climax. Finally she let go of my head and I pulled back, my face coated in her fluids. "That was very nice Wendy. You have a talented tongue." I stood back up and started to unzip my trousers. "Not tonight Wendy. You've fully satisfied me. Why don't you go back to your room and get ready for bed." "Yes Miss Carson." I was disappointed. It was the first time we had sex without me getting off. I hoped this was not a precursor of what our sex life would become. I settled into my new routine. I organized the housework and made a calendar schedule of what tasks to do what days. With a house this big being the maid really was a full time job and I was on my feet from six am until about 9 pm every day. Several times a week Donna would have me serve her orally, though she no longer wanted my penis inside her. I had to resort to masturbating to fulfill my own needs. About a month after we moved into her new house Donna approached me in the kitchen. "Wendy I've been thinking." "Yes Miss?" "You're doing a really excellent job with your maid duties. I'm very proud of you. My house is always clean and your meals are great. You are really becoming a very professional maid." "Thank you Miss Carson. I try my best to do a good job." "I think a professional maid like you ought to dress more professionally as well, don't you?" "Yes I guess so Miss." "How do you suppose a professional ladies maid should dress?" "Well a female maid would probably wear some sort of uniform; a dress or a suit perhaps?" "Yes Wendy, I think a properly dressed maid should be in a trimly tailored uniform; something brown or blue; nothing too colorful or flashy. With your blue eyes I think I'll go with dark blue for your uniforms. And maybe for more formal occasions something black with white trim." "Yes Miss Carson. If you think I should wear uniforms while on duty that will be fine with me." Of course I expected that my uniforms would consist of tailored pants with shirts and maybe a sport coat type jacket. Donna made me an appointment with a tailor shop to be measured for my new uniforms which would be custom made. A week later packages were delivered to the house addressed to Miss Carson but the return address was the tailor shop. I assumed the packages contained my new uniforms but figured I better not open them since they weren't addressed to me. That evening when Donna arrived home she told me to take the packages into the den and bring her a glass of wine. I served her wine and stood expectantly, curious about my new uniforms. The packages were all numbered. She handed me package number one to open. I wasn't sure what it was at first. The thing was made of heavy black rubber and had rows of hooks and eyes on each end. I looked confusedly at Donna. "It's a waist chinch. Undress and wrap it around your waste fastening it in front." I tried wrapping it around my waist but the two ends didn't quite meet. "It's too small Mistress. They must have measured wrong." "It has to be very tight to reduce your waistline Wendy. Rubber stretches. Pull harder." It was a struggle but I managed to get the twelve hooks and eyes fastened. I ran my hands over the outside of the smooth black rubber and could feel new curves at my waist. There was something sensual about the feel of wearing the rubber garment and I could feel the beginnings of an erection. Donna motioned for me to stand in front of her. She took a cloth tape measure out of her purse and wrapped it around my waist. "Twenty seven inches. Not bad considering your natural waist is about thirty. Time for package number two." She handed me another package to open. It contained a dozen packages of women's nylon stockings and a handful of black rubber straps about an inch wide and eight inches long. "You want me to wear nylon stockings Mistress?" "Yes Wendy, a proper maid must always keep her legs covered. It's part of her uniform." "But I'm not a "her" Mistress." "Yes that's rather obvious from the little stiff thing growing between your legs. It seems you are excited by wearing your pretty new things. Now please attach the garter straps to the bottom of your waist cinch and I'll show you how to put on your stockings." The garter straps had a snap fastener on one end which attached to the base of the waist cinch. At the other end of the eight straps were garter clasps to which the stocking tops were clipped. Donna showed me how to roll up the tall sheer stockings and how the clips worked. Before long both of my legs were encased in dark shiny nylon stockings. I was shocked to discover that the next package contained bras! Not ordinary girl bras, but bras made of the same heavy black rubber of my waist cinch. Having some experience removing bras from girls I dated over the years, I had no difficulty getting it fastened around my chest. The bra cups were quite prominent; about a B cup. The cups were filled with some padding; probably foam rubber. Needless to say, it felt very strange to have these faux breasts protruding from my chest. The next item in my new wardrobe was a shirt, or perhaps I should say a blouse since it buttoned backwards from all of my shirts. The blouse was tailored and tapered at the waist to fit snuggly over my waist cinch. Without the compression of the waist cinch I doubt that I could have gotten it buttoned. The blouse was a heavy dark blue cotton fabric with pearl buttons at the cuffs and front. The fit was perfect. The next item another bit of black rubber. This one snapped to the bottom front of my waist cinch, passed between my legs and buckled in back. It had to be stretched tight to attach it, compressing my genitals so that from the front my crotch was smooth, like a girls. "Mistress I'm feeling very hot, especially under the waist cinch and bra." "Excellent. The heavy rubber will hold in your body heat and help with your fat burn." She handed me a skirt. It was a dark blue woolen fabric and surprisingly heavy. I pulled it up with the zipper in front but it didn't fit right. "The zipper goes on your left side Wendy." I rotated the skirt and was able to pull it up to my newly narrowed waist. I zipped and buttoned it. The fit was snug. It would never fit if I wasn't wearing the waist cinch. Next was a jacket of the same fabric and color as the skirt. It was tailored so it fit fine over my new bra and then tapered to fit snuggly at the waist. The jacket was much shorter than my men's suit jackets, ending at the small of my waist. It was kind of a double breasted design with two rows of brass buttons running up the front. Next she handed me an apron. "You'll need to wear an apron while on duty to protect your tailored skirt suits, which were quite expensive." The apron was a pale blue. It had a front bib with a strap that went up over my shoulders and around the back of my neck. At each side were straps which I tied in a bow at the small of my back. It was trimmed with ruffles. By this time I was sweating. Between the rubber underwear and the heavy wool skirt and jacket, my uniform was very warm to wear. The final item of my maid uniform was shoes. They were navy blue to tie in with my skirt and jacket. They had block heels that were very high. "Mistress, how high are these heels? I've never worn anything with a high heel before." "These are only four and a half inches Wendy. I know that is less than ideal, but once you get broken in to wearing them we can step up to something higher and more appropriate for a ladies maid." I couldn't imagine what it would be like to walk in such high heels; not just walk, but do housework in them. "Mistress, do you expect me to wear high heels all the time now?" "Of course not Wendy. You'll only wear them when you are on duty. Once you finish your day's work and are off duty in the maid's quarters feel free to kick off your heels." "But Mistress I'm on duty every day from like six in the morning to nine at night." "Well then you'll be wearing heels from six to nine won't you Wendy? That still gives you nine hours a day when you can run around barefoot if you feel like it." "Yes Mistress. Thank you for not requiring I wear heels in my room Mistress." "Now, it's dinner time. To the kitchen girl. You have work to do." It took a few weeks but eventually I got used to wearing high heels and to the tight compression of my hot rubber underwear. I found that it took less food to fill me up, since my stomach was squished under the waist cinch. I was losing weight. I dropped five pounds in the first month of wearing my new uniforms. As I was serving her breakfast one morning Donna sort of stared intently at me. "Wendy, I'm really not happy with your appearance." "Is there something wrong with my uniform Mistress?" "No girl, your uniform is perfect. It's your face and hair that displease me." "It's the face I was born with Mistress. There's nothing I can do about that." "On the contrary Wendy, there are many things we can do to improve your appearance. The problem now is that while your uniform says "girl" from the neck down, you head still says "boy". I've made you an appointment with a cosmetic surgeon for this morning. We'll leave as soon as I finish breakfast, ok?" "Um ... yes I guess that's ok if you really think so Mistress." At Doctor Brighton's clinic I was photographed and measured. The doctor took a marker pen and started drawing lines on my face and making notes on his laptop. Then he told me to take off my blouse and bra. He made more marks and took more notes. Then he turned to Donna. "What do you want for a cup size?" "I was thinking a C or D cup." "Yes I think she can carry a D cup without it being out of proportion, especially as her waist shrinks. As far as her face is concerned I'll reduce her nose and trim her chin. I'll open up her eyes a bit and of course the Adam's apple has to be cut back. We can do everything in one appointment. I have a two hour block open on Wednesday morning. How does that sound?" "That's fine doctor Brighton. We'll see you Wednesday." "Make sure she signs the consent forms. I'll have to have them before I can do any cutting." My head was spinning. She wanted to change my face; to make it more feminine looking. And breast implants; D cup breasts! Back home Donna handed me a two page document. "Initial it here and here. Then sign and date it at the bottom." "But Mistress. I don't want my face changed. I don't want breasts." "You're my maid Wendy. You readily agreed to wear your uniforms and high heels. You've been dressing like a girl for months now. I'm simply offering you the opportunity to compliment your uniforms with a more compatible total image. Up until now, I've allowed you to wear your old male clothing when outside in public. I didn't want to embarrass you in public when people perceived you as a boy in a dress. With the surgeries that will no longer be an issue. People will perceive you as 100 percent girl. I'm doing this for your benefit Wendy. I'm very disappointed that you aren't more thankful, considering all the money I'm spending on your behalf." "I ... I'm sorry Mistress. I'm really very grateful for the job you have given me. I've been so much happier as your maid than I ever was working in that office. If you really think I need the operations I'll agree." I signed and initialed the document, committing myself to have the surgeries. Two days later I was in the hospital, waking up from the anesthetic. My face hurt. My throat hurt. My chest hurt. And of course when I looked down there were two prominent bumps under the covers where my new breasts resided. On top of that my feet hurt. Donna was next to me when I finally regained consciousness. "How are you feeling Wendy dear?" "I hurt all over Mistress. My face, my throat, my chest. My feet even hurt. Did they do something to my feet too?" "Oh yes I figured as long as you were under we might as well fix your feet at the same time." "What was wrong with my feet that needed fixing?" "I had doctor Brighton shorten your Achilles tendons. That will make it easier for you to wear higher heels." "I've been wearing four and a half inch heels for months Mistress." "With your feet corrected you'll be wearing a six inch heel from now on Wendy. Isn't that wonderful!" "I guess that's good if you really think I need to wear heels that high." "Keeping you in high heels is an excellent discipline. It helps remind you of your status." "Yes Mistress, if you say so." Donna brought me home the next day. I spent a week mostly in bed recuperating. I was able to sit up on the edge of my bed. My feet were definitely pointed down at a sharper than normal angle. I tried to stand but my feet would no longer be flat on the floor. My heels were still like five or six inches off the floor. Donna handed me a new pair of skyscraper heels which I slipped on. Then I was able to stand and eventually to walk around a bit. We went back to Doctor Brighton's office and he removed the bandages. I was shocked when I looked in the mirror. Though there was still a little swelling, the face reflected back at me was that of a girl; a girl with features similar to mine, but decidedly more feminine. When he unwrapped the bandages around my chest I saw my new breasts for the first time. They looked so real! I touched them. They were firm. They didn't sag when I sat up. It occurred to me that I might not even need to wear bras any more. Donna bought me new uniforms. They were cut fuller in the chest to accommodate my new breasts. My old blouses buttoned up to the collar. The new ones were tailored to show quite a bit of my cleavage. I kind of liked the idea of being able to show off my new breasts, even though I still had mixed feelings about having gotten them. At her insistence I went to a salon and had a makeover. I got a new hair style, longer bright red fingernails, and full makeup on my girly face. They taught me how to maintain the new look and provided me with a makeup kit to take home. With my new image I felt more confident about appearing in public. I looked like a girl in all respects. I even sort of started to feel like a girl, though of course under my panties I was still a man. That evening I was kneeling under the dining room table licking my mistress while she ate dinner. She had her daily orgasm thanks to my oral skills. I crawled out from under the table and stood at the side table to await any further instructions. I had an erection, but hoped she wouldn't notice. "That was lovely Wendy. I'm so very pleased with your work. However at the moment your maleness is on display. That bump at the front of your skirt is ruining the feminine image I have worked so hard to create. We really must do something to fix that." "I ... I'm sorry Mistress. It's just that I get so turned on sometimes when I'm pleasuring you." "Since you no longer are allowed sexual release in my presence I assume you must be masturbating back in your maid's quarters." "Yes Mistress I do that sometimes." "I really don't approve of that at all Wendy. Ideally my maid should remain chaste so she can devote her full energy to pleasing her Mistress and others; not to selfish pleasures from masturbating." "I can try to stop doing it Mistress, but I doubt if that will work. I don't seem to have much self control when I get horny." "Yes I suppose it's too much to expect you to just willingly become chaste. Thankfully there are ... devices which can control your carnal urges. I'll make the necessary arrangements. You, of course, will sign a consent form agreeing to the changes. That should permanently solve your little problem. The next day she took me to a tattoo and piercing studio. With some reluctance I signed the release forms. When I came out I had a heavy steel ring in each nipple, a Prince Albert ring in the head of my penis and three barbells running through the underside of my penis starting just below the corona and spaced about an inch apart. It had been both a painful and somewhat bloody ordeal, but by the time we were back in her car the pain was pretty much gone and there was no more bleeding I was given instructions and an aftercare kit and Donna drove us back home. It took about four weeks for the piercings to heal. During that time my maid's duties went on as usual. Thanks to the surgery on my tendons I adapted well to wearing six inch high heels full time. Indeed, I could not imagine wearing anything less than a six inch heel. I continued to serve my Mistress orally almost every night. I would still get the occasional erection. I tried masturbating a couple times in my room, but with the four piercings in my penis still healing I never got over the top. When the piercings were healed we returned to the tattoo and piercing studio. The piercer removed all the jewelry from my penis. She then slid a stainless steel tube over my deflated member. The outside of the tube was covered with steel spikes about a quarter of an inch long. I surmised that the spikes would be a deterrence for me penetrating anyone sexually while wearing the tube. Once she had the tube in position she fed the three barbells through pairs of holes on opposite sides of the tube. Threading the barbell ends, they now held the tube securely around my penis. She replaced the ring in my Prince Albert piercing with a larger gauge ring that was noticeably heavier. When everything was in place my penis pointed straight down between my legs. I was handed another consent and release form; this one for tattoos! I had to remove my skirt and pull down my panties. She began to tattoo my butt! It took about an hour. It was painful and a little bit bloody. It seems like everything they do in the studio involves pain and blood. When the tattoos were finished she covered them with bandages and we were instructed to keep them covered for a week until they healed at which time a scab would come off revealing the finished tattoos. On the drive back home I said, "Mistress what did she tattoo on my bottom?" "Just a little something I wanted Wendy. You'll see them in a week when I take off the bandages. It will be a little like when the cosmetic surgeon removed your bandages after your surgeries." "Yes Mistress." A week later my tattoos were revealed. Centered on each cheek was the letter S in a sort of gothic font. The letters were about three or four inches high and were obviously very prominent unless I was clothed. "Why the letter S, Mistress?" "What do you think the S stands for Wendy?" "I don't know. It's not my initials; not yours either." "Let me show you some pictures Wendy. Perhaps that will help." She opened her laptop and pulled up a series of photos. They were all pictures of very attractive girls. The girls all had rings in their nipples just like mine. And the girls all had penises! Penises that were pierced and covered in steel just like mine. They weren't real girls; they were shemales, just like what I have become. They all wore high heels and if they weren't totally naked, most were wearing corsets that left their ringed breasts and penises exposed. "Is this what you want me to become Mistress? A shemale? Half man; half woman." "This is what you have already become Wendy. The only thing you lack is a corset and I just happen to have one here in your size. Take off everything but your heels and put on your new corset. I'll help you lace it." I stood passively while my Mistress slowly tightened the laces of my corset, compressing my waist by several inches. When finished she started taking photos of me. Photos just like the ones on her computer. "How do you like your new uniform Wendy?" "Do you mean this is how I'll be dressed going forward?" "Yes my dear girl. I decided it was a shame to keep your pretty ringed breasts covered and of course I want others to see your new chastity as well." "But I feel so naked and exposed Mistress. Can't I keep wearing skirts and blouses please?" "No you may not keep wearing skirts Wendy. Slaves are supposed to feel naked and exposed." "Is that what I am now? A slave?" "Yes dear I have slowly transformed you into my shemale sex slave. This has long been a dream of mine and you offered me the chance to turn my dream into reality." "So is that what the letters on my butt cheeks stand for? S equals slave?" "Yes Wendy dear, those tattoos mark you as my slave. How long will you wear my marks?" "Tattoos are like forever Mistress. I'll wear the mark of a slave for the rest of my life won't I?" "Yes my darling. Now, down on your knees. I have something that requires the use of your tongue."