Maid For The Job - Chapter Eleven free porn video

Maid for the Job Chapter Eleven I woke with a start as the memories of the previous night's activities came flooding back, the pain in my used hole a further reminder of the assault that I had experienced. But had it been assault?! I could have tried to fight him off, I could have revealed Mrs Smith's plan, but I didn't, I allowed Mr Smith to use me as a sexual plaything just as his wife had done previously. Why hadn't I fought him off? Fear of exposure? Fear of further cruelty? But Mr Smith hadn't been cruel. He had been forceful, yes, but not cruel, and whether it was because it was not my first time, or because it was a real penis rather than a dildo, the pain in my hole did not feel as bad as it had the previous week. I arose and went to the toilet. There had been some leakage in the night and the sanitary towel stuck to me slightly as I pulled my panties down. As I removed the tampon there was a squelching sound as the remainder of his juices escaped. I decided to insert another one in case of any further leakage during the day thinking that gravity might play its part. I had a quick shower and was about to get dressed into clothes to go to the salon with Fran?oise when I realised that Mr Smith was probably still in the house and would probably be wanting breakfast. Checking the time I realised I was going to be late for the normal eight o'clock wake up and had to get dressed quickly. Had I been confident enough, I might well have worn the French Maids outfit with all the frills to show him that I owned my femininity and had allowed the events of last night to occur, but I wasn't confident, in fact I was a little afraid and didn't want to titillate him further. I dressed dowdily in my standard day time uniform with little make up other than my scarlet nail varnish that I did not have time to remove. =#= I arrived at his door a few minutes later with a tray of cereal, toast and coffee. There was no response to my knock so I walked in and, not seeing him anywhere, I placed the tray on the table in the corner of the room. I could hear the shower running and relaxed a little as I laid out the breakfast things on the table. I clearly took too long though as when I stood up and turned to leave, Mr Smith was standing in the bathroom door drying his hair and completely naked. "Good morning Stephanie," he said, moving towards the door out of the room. "I didn't hear you come in." As he spoke he continued to dry his hair and his body and all I could do was stare at him, and specifically his penis. I couldn't believe that it had been in my hole the previous night. It looked so big. He could clearly see where I was looking as he started to dry it off while he walked towards me. "Happy memories, eh!" he said, "me too, although I do recall saying that I had had enough 'for now'. Perhaps now would be a good time to finish off properly, while we are alone," he finished. I had no idea what he meant. I certainly felt that everything had been 'finished off properly' the previous night, and he was going to get a shock if he tried that again. But that was not what was on his mind. At that moment he dropped the towel he had been holding loosely around his waist. "Oh dear," he said in mock shock, "I appear to have dropped my towel. Perhaps you could pick it up for me." Dumbstruck, I shook my head slowly, a vain attempt at defiance. His reaction was to reach out and place his hand on my shoulder placing downwards pressure. "Oh yes." Continuing to shake my head I started to kneel down to pick up the towel, realising as one of my stockinged knees touched the carpet that my face was the same height as his groin. "While you are down there anyway..." he said, moving closer towards me. With his stiffening member inches from my face, I felt I had no choice. Placing my other knee on the ground, I reached out a hand with its red painted nails towards his groin and grabbed his member that had only last night been inside me. As I did so I looked up at him and he looked down towards me and nodded. Slowly I started to grip his penis and caress it, reaching out and cupping his balls with my other hand. For some reason I had hoped that this would be enough, but as his penis became fully erect, I realised he had other ideas and I was filled with d?j? vu. He took a step closer so that as I masturbated him, the tip of his penis stroked my lips. Knowing there was no option I slowly opened my lips and then there was no way I could prevent him pushing his now fully erect member into my mouth. Still maintaining a grip on both his penis and ball sack, I couldn't help but remember the last blow job I gave to Mr Land. Continuing to stroke his penis and caress his balls, I bobbed my head up and down on the tip of his member. As he became more aroused, so he penetrated deeper into my mouth until I could no longer hold on to his shaft. Letting go, and having nowhere else to put my hand, I reached round and held his buttocks. It was only when I could feel his pubic hair with my nose that I realised I had him all in my mouth. At this point I realised I had another decision to make. If I released him before he ejaculated he would spurt all over my face. It was either that or swallow again. As I thought about this, the decision was taken out of my hands. He grabbed my head and at the same time he started moving his groin backwards and forwards, penetrating my mouth as far as he could go. I could tell he was getting close to climax. Then, without warning, it happened. His hot semen gushed into my mouth. His hands were holding my head firmly and there was no way I could back out. As he came more and more, my mouth filled with his warm seed and there was nothing I could do but swallow. I kept swallowing until he stopped spurting. Still he held my head. Eventually I could feel it softening in my mouth, at which point he released my head and stood back, his member popping out of my mouth and leaving a last drop of cum on my lower lip. I drew my tongue out to mop it up. "Well, well," he said offering me his hand to help me up. "That was quite a wake up call! Andrew was right. Now off you trot, I'm sure you have many things to keep you busy." As I turned to leave, he patted me on my buttocks. Taking my leave I ran straight to my bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I sat on the dressing table and stared at myself, too shocked to cry. Why had I not stood up to him again? Did I want to become a cock-sucking parlour maid? A tight feeling in my groin gave me an answer I wasn't sure I wanted. I realised that my thingy was twitching, that I was actually aroused by the experience I had just had. =#= I stayed in my room quietly until I was certain he was gone, and as I heard the front door close and the car start up I ran to the landing window just to be sure, and as I saw his car leave the drive way I heaved a sigh of relief. I was just about to return to my room to get changed into shopping clothes when the telephone rang. Thankfully there was a phone on the landing so I didn't have to run downstairs, and when I picked it up I was pleased to find that it was Fran?oise on the other end of the line. However, I wasn't pleased about her news. Her car would not start and there was no way she would be able to be here to collect me for my salon appointment. She apologised profusely and hoped that perhaps we might see each other the following day. We said our goodbyes and hung up. I was now in a quandary. If I wanted to keep the salon appointment I would have to travel there by myself on public transport. Although I had been out in public and received no ridicule, I had always been with someone else. Doing it alone was another thing. On the other hand, if I didn't go to the appointment my boss was sure to be angry. To settle the matter, I decided to ring my boss and ask her advice. She was very relaxed about it and told me not to more my 'pretty little head' and she would sort it out then get back to me. After hanging up, I waited for several minutes by the phone, not really knowing what to do, and the other sensation I could feel was the taste of Mr Smith's semen in my mouth. I made a note to myself with a wry smile, brush your teeth after a blow job! Several minutes later the phone rang and it was Mrs Smith. It appeared that changing the appointment to tomorrow would not be a problem and that I could go at the same time. I hoped Fran?oise's car would be fixed so she could take me. Mrs Smith suggested that I used the day to get ready for the party tomorrow as I wouldn't be around the following day as I would be at the salon. I agreed to the change of working day and listened to my instructions. Just before she hung up, my boss finished with, "Oh, and another thing. I will be having a dinner guest tonight. Mrs. Stewart, you remember her. It will just be the two of us, and you of course, as my husband is at his golf club AGM tonight. Okay, see you later." And with that she was gone. I remembered Mrs. Stewart and the humiliation of having to drop my skirt to prove I was a boy. At least I wouldn't have to go through that again. I immediately rang Fran?oise to let her know about the change of plans and she was happy and excited that she wouldn't be missing the chance to spend a day with me. With nothing else to do, I went and brushed my teeth and then proceeded with the long list of chores my boss had set me for tomorrow's party. I wasn't sure what or who the party was for, but there would be around forty people there. =#= Much later as I was about to finish the chores, I heard the front door open and Mrs Smith walked in. "Good afternoon, Stephanie. How have things gone today?" "Very well, thank you, ma'am," I replied, and proceeded to fill her in about all the chores I had completed, what was still left to do, and reassured her that dinner was in the oven ready for whenever she and Mrs Stewart required it. "Excellent," she responded, "You really are a good little worker. Now, fetch me a cup of tea then go and get yourself ready for this evening. You really do look a frightful mess with all the work you have been doing and you need to be wearing your evening uniform anyway." I was a little taken aback with her frankness, but looking in the mirror I had to agree, I did look a mess. After I had sorted out her tea, I headed up to my room and started to run a lavender bath while I got undressed. I stripped down to my white cotton panties, throwing everything in the laundry basket and then decided to wash my hair. Normally I wouldn't do this as the salon did it, but it was so full of dust I decided to lean over the bath and give it a quick wash and rinse. I hadn't done this before and was amused by the feeling of my breasts against the cold bath as I leaned over, another new sensation. Once I was done I wrapped a turbie towel around my head and slipped off my panties. Removing the used tampon, I was pleased that there was no more flow of juices, and I slipped gratefully into the warm, tingling, soapy waters and just lay back and soaked for a while. Cleaning myself with a soft sponge I noticed that there was significant hair growth on my legs and other areas of my body but I figured that this would be sorted out at the salon the following day so did nothing about it. Once I was out of the bath and dry, I sprayed myself liberally with body spray then started getting dressed. Black satin panties and the black satin bra Aunt Mary had leant me. Wearing a bra directly in contact with my own breasts did feel so much different to wearing one with breast forms. I realised I kind of liked it as I could feel the smooth satin fabric. Donning the black satin suspender belt that matched the panties, I slipped the suspenders under the panties and, sitting down on the edge of the bed, slid some black stockings up my legs, not too sheer as I didn't want my hair growth to be visible. I then stood up and slid the skirt up my legs, enjoying the swish on the lining on my nylon clad legs. Then, sitting down at my dressing table, I removed the turbie towel to check my hair. It was still damp so I started brushing and drying it, hoping to form it into some kind of style. As I did so, I realised it had been two weeks since I had been to the salon and my hair had grown in that time and was now comfortably touching my shoulders. I decided to dry it and simply brush it back into a pony tail. Holding it in placed with a scrunchie, I was pleased with how it looked, but knew it wasn't really that difficult. Perhaps I would need to learn how to do French plaits in the future. In the future! What was I thinking? I was about to slip my white satin blouse over the top, but realised the black bra would show through. Rather than change to the white matching bra, I wanted to keep the same colour of underwear throughout for some reason, I slipped my ivory satin camisole over the top, pleased with the way the darts simply settled on my breasts, and then put on the blouse. Adding some simple make up, mascara, eye liner, a little blusher and lipstick, I made my way downstairs and was greeted my by boss. "Well you do look wonderful," she said, before continuing, "Wait there." I stood still and waited as she commanded until she returned with a camera. "Now, let me take a photo of you, you look wonderful." I wasn't really sure about this but knew I didn't have much choice and I responded to her suggestions of a variety of innocent poses, smiling dutifully for the camera, before I worked up the courage. "May I ask what the photos are for?" "You may ask, yes, but you will not find out until later. Now Mrs. Stewart is due to arrive any moment now and I am sure she would like to join me in a G&T." Realising that was the end of the conversation; I did as requested and then proceeded to get everything ready for their meal while my boss greeted her friend as she arrived. =#= Both ladies thoroughly enjoyed the meal, and at the end I was asked to join them in the lounge as I brought through the coffee. "Mrs Stewart here was just commenting on how wonderful you look and how far you have come in just four weeks. I printed off these before and after photos. The change really is impressive," she added, handing me the photos. The two photos showed pictures of me in the same outfit, one taken earlier today and the other taken at Aunt Mary's when I was put in my outfits for the first time. Even I had to admit the change was astonishing. From a sullen boy in a dress I had turned into, as far as the pictures showed, a pleasant young lady with a smile on her face. My face looked much more feminine with the make up and my hair was clearly longer and styled in a more feminine manner now. I seemed to wear the clothes more comfortably, perhaps that was because I was now used to them, or was there something else. Even the way I was standing was more feminine. Perhaps I had grown into my role. "Surely this is not all simply the result of putting a boy in a dress," Mrs Stewart asked. "There must be more to it than that?" I looked at Mrs Smith to see what her answer would be. Looking straight into my eyes, she responded. "Well as it happens there was more to it than that, although I have to say that Stephanie has responded very well to everything." "Tell me more," Mrs Stewart pressed. I'm not sure I wanted to know more, but I was going to find out anyway. "To begin with," my boss started, "I decided to give Stephanie two special lotions that would 'help' the transition be a little easier. Her lavender bath foam has been heavily infused with hair growth suppressant and a certain level of female hormone. I hoped this would mean her bodily hair would not return too quickly and the hormone would soften the edges." I was shocked, but that explained the tingling every time I got in the bath. "I also gave her a special formulation of shampoo that encouraged luxuriant hair growth." Again this explained the changes that had happened to my hair. "I thought those chemical influences, with some behaviour influences, might be enough." "What do you mean by behavioural influences?" "Well, calling her by her female name all the time," my boss continued, almost as if I was not there, "treating her as a female all the time, buying her beautiful lingerie, allowing her to wearing some of my lovely clothes, and more." "I get the impression there is more you are not telling me," Mrs Stewart suggested. "Well, I haven't done it all alone. I have had some help from some interesting places. It transpired early on that I vaguely knew Stephanie's mother so after Stephanie had been with us for just a week, I invited her to visit and meet Stephanie." "That's brave," Mrs Stewart suggested, "How did that go?" "Her mother was overjoyed, thrilled to have a daughter. In fact she took her out right away to M&S and bought her a school outfit and some lovely nightwear and lingerie. A real bonus. When Stephanie went to school with Aunt Mary, she struck up a friendship with a lovely young French woman called Fran?oise. Fran?oise has been most supportive both of myself and Stephanie." As she said this she looked at me and could see a flicker of anger in my eyes. "Don't worry, my dear. Everything Fran?oise has done with you she has done of her own choosing. I have not asked anything of her regarding you." Turning back to Mrs Stewart, she continued. "Stephanie's 'public' outings have been a great success as well. Whenever we have had people round for dinner she has been excellent with no one suspecting anything. Surely you remember our last cocktail party?! Well after that Aunt Mary had a fabulous idea and invited four of her friends round to her house to bring their sissy boys with them. Mary asked Fran?oise and Stephanie to be waitresses for the evening and witness the humiliation the poor boys were subjected to. How did you feel that evening Stephanie?" I looked at her knowing what she wanted to hear. "I was pleased no one thought I was a boy." "Do you hear that?" she asked Mrs Stewart, "Stephanie was pleased that everyone thought she was a girl, especially when the poor sissy boys were asked to give each other blow jobs in public. What delicious humiliation! Of course Aunt Mary has been excellent help in other ways as well, encouraging Stephanie to understand what it means to be a girl, and she has been responsible for one of the biggest changes of all." "What do you mean?" Mrs Stewart pressed. "Well, Stephanie was wearing breasts forms which of course needed removing and cleaning weekly. Well Mary had a splendid idea. She told Stephanie that in order to remove them she needed to inject anaesthetic to ease the pain. Well the anaesthetic was nothing of the sort, it was a massive shot of a breast growth hormone." I let out a gasp and my boss glared at me. "Will you please be quiet, I am trying to tell a story. Anyway, Mary then cleaned the chest area and re-fix the breast forms. The following week, the same thing happened with the shot of a breast growth hormone. However, due to the previous week's shot, there had been some breast growth. Aunt Mary then prescribed some pills to reduce the swelling. These pills would do nothing of the sort, they was oestrogen pills, designed to enhance feminine features. This continued week on week with the doses getting stronger each time so Stephanie is now sporting her own breasts!" "I don't believe it," Mrs Stewart responded in shock and I could see immediately where this was going. "I am sure Stephanie wont mind proving it." Standing up as if in a trance, I started to unbutton my blouse as both women looked on eagerly. As I removed the blouse Mrs Stewart commented on my beautiful lingerie which brought the hint of a smile to my face. Removing my camisole, I reached behind me to unclasp my bra and release my breasts. I did this all without any emotion, but as I exposed my breasts and Mrs Stewart asked if she could come and examine them I felt like an object that has been toyed with. Completing her examination Mrs Stewart commented. "You have beautiful breasts, my dear. Perhaps with more encouragement they may grow even more lovely," and she gave me a kiss on the lips. "Thank you, Stephanie," Mrs Smith intoned, motioning for me to re-dress myself and sit down again. "Throughout all of this," Mrs Stewart continued, "has Stephanie had the opportunity to feel, well exactly what it is like to be feminine?" Mrs Smith looked at me as my eyes went wide with fear, hoping she would not continue. "To be frank, yes she has. A number of people have been encouraging her. Clearly I have engaged in a certain amount of 'training' and Fran?oise has been most helpful with providing Stephanie with some new experiences. One of our male house guests, I think you know Andrew, was most appreciative of Stephanie's, how shall we put it, wake up call." I blushed as Mrs Stewart raised an eye brow. "Thursday nights has usually been our 'girly night in' but I couldn't be here last night. I forget to tell Stephanie and I am sure she got herself all made up beautifully didn't you?" she finished, looking at me. I nodded. "And of course I equally forget to tell Stephanie that Mr Smith would be here last night. He must have had quite a shock on returning home to find, not a demure house maid, but an attractive young lady dressed up for a night of fun. He must have really struggled to keep his hands off you," she continued, still looking at me, "or did he? How did he respond?" I blushed even more then burst into tears. Mrs Stewart rushed over to sit next to me, patting my hand and calming me down. "Please tell me, Stephanie," Mrs Smith pressed, "I am not cross with you." Slowly but surely I relived all of the events of the previous evening, leaving nothing out. When I reached the climax of my story, I buried my head in Mrs Stewart's shoulder and wept. It went quiet for a while before my boss spoke up. "How did it feel? Honestly." Looking into both their eyes I managed to stammer out that he hadn't treated me badly and it was more comfortable than being 'done' by dildo. I wept even more with the realisation that I had almost accepted what had happened. "Is that where it ended?" Between sobs I managed to get out that I had given him a 'wake up call' this morning but that that was all. "Thank you for being honest with me, Stephanie," Mrs Smith said, "Because of your honesty I intend to give you the opportunity this weekend to make a decision whether to continue to work for me or to leave. Yes," she said, in response to my questioning look, "I intend to honour the letter you wrote a month ago handing in your notice, if that it still your will. Don't make a decision now. The time to make your decision will come this weekend, it will be obvious. Now I think you should go to bed." With that I bid goodnight to both women and headed upstairs. =#= Back in my room I slowly stripped off my outer layers, carefully unbuttoning the blouse and hanging it up, pulling the camisole off and placing it back in it's drawer on my dresser, and unzipping the skirt and letting it fall to the floor so I could step out of it. As I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Standing there in black lingerie, I saw a girl; there wasn't even much of a lump in my panties to give the game away. Reaching behind me, I released the clasp on the bra and removed it, revealing my budding breasts. Everything about what I saw said 'girl'. Only a couple of days ago I had stood here surprised about the transformation, now I knew why. I had been drugged and groomed into appearing like and wanting to be treated as a girl. The weird thing was, I wasn't sure how to feel, angry that I had been used, or pleased that there was a reason for my transformation and it wasn't just me adapting. Sitting on the edge of my bed I carefully removed the stockings and suspender belt, putting them away as well and then decided on my purple satin chemise that my mother had bought for me. As I slipped it over me head and is settled in the appropriate places on my body, I gave myself a wry smile. It fitted perfectly. Sitting down at my dressing table I removed all of my make up before heading to the bathroom for my final bed preparations. As I returned into the bedroom, I heard a knock on the door. "Yes," I responded curtly. "Stephanie, do you mind if I come in?" As the door handle was already moving I knew 'No' was not really an answer so I waited as she opened up and came in. "Mrs Stewart has just left so I thought I would come and check on you before I went to bed." Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she patted the cover. "Come and sit next to me," she commanded and I sat gently next to here. "I know this has come as a bit of a surprise to you, and to be honest it really wasn't what I had planned, apart from the bath lotion, shampoo and clothes that is, but as everyone got involved we all got a bit carried away. I have to say though, looking at those two photos we saw earlier, it is almost impossible to tell they are of the same person. You really have come on very well." I had to agree about the pictures, they do show an amazing transformation, but then now I knew why. There was one thing I wanted to know. "You said that you have not asked Fran?oise to do anything and that everything she has done has been her own choice. Is that really true?" I asked. "The only thing I have asked her to do was firstly make sure you didn't run away when you went out together and secondly to look after you. Everything else is from her." That made me feel better as there was at least one person who didn't seem to be using me. "So where does this leave me?" I asked. "Well, as I said downstairs, you will be given the chance to make a choice to stay or go at some point this weekend, you will know when, it will be obvious, until then things are as normal." I let out a little nervous laugh at the 'normal', but she let it pass. "You know you really do make a beautiful young woman," she said turning towards me, "and you have come on so well," she continued, stroking my hair. "I am sure that if there wasn't some underlying leaning towards being a girl, this wouldn't have happened so easily. I mean this breast growth, for example," she added and started tracing the outline of my breasts through the thin satin material of the chemise I was wearing. "This is incredible in such a short time, even given the high dosage Aunt Mary was literally pumping you with." At this point she pulled the scrunchie out of my hair allowing it to settle on my shoulders and started to stroke my breasts more earnestly, settling on one of my nipples and tweaking it. As she did this I let out an involuntary squeak and I could see a smile appear on her face. "So, not only do they look the part but they work too," she continued, giving my nipple another tweak to see how I reacted. Once again, I let out an involuntary squeak. At this point she reached up and slid a strap of my chemise off my shoulder meaning it fell open and exposed one of my breasts. Leaning across me she kissed the breast, stroking my back with her other hand. She kissed all around the breast and then settled on the nipple. Flicking out her tongue she flipped and licked it then took the nipple between her teeth and gave it a gentle bite. This time I moaned. "Hmm," she said, sitting up and looking me in the eye, "no boy would react like that to their nipple being played with." With that she kissed me on the lips, her tongue finding its way between my lips, and as she did so she pushed me backwards until I was lying down on the bed. Then, lying beside me, she continued to kiss and lick my exposed breast while slipping the strap off the other shoulder and exposing my second breast. She then proceeded to take it in turns to administer to each of my breasts, and all I could do was lay back and enjoy the sensations which were all together new for me. As she was kissing, sucking and nibbling on my breasts, her hand snaked its way down my torso towards my groin. I could feel the blood begin to course into my thingy and I am sure the erection was clearly visible, tenting out the satin panties I was wearing. Mrs Smith slipped her hand underneath the short chemise I was wearing and took a moment out of her kissing. "Such a good job you chose accessible nightwear tonight my dear," she said, kissing me fully on the lips, again with tongues as she ran a nail underneath the edges of my panties, just skimming my flesh. Removing her hand she pushed my inner thighs and I spread my legs accordingly. Letting go a pleased 'hmm', she returned her attention to my nipples as she continued to stroke all around my groin and perineum without ever once touching my thingy. She then raised her hands to my lips and inserted two fingers for me to such on. I could vaguely taste the perfumed talc that I had used after the bath. "Suck them properly, you need them to be sopping wet," she commanded and I obliged. After a while she seemed satisfied and removed her fingers from my mouth, replacing them with her tongue. As she did so I felt her hand around my groin again and her fingers underneath the gusset of my panties as she traced a ring around my hole and then gently slipped in first one and then two fingers. "Interesting," she said as she inserted the fingers, "this feels easier than before," she sniggered while I blushed and then, before I could say anything, she began to move her fingers in and out of my hole while also nibbling and sucking on my exposed nipples. I couldn't help myself but surrender totally to the sensations filling my body. I hadn't felt anything like this before. My whole body seemed to be on fire, and she continued her attentions I was vaguely aware of my thingy getting harder and harder. Before I realised what was happening I had reached orgasm and not just an ejaculation shooting my load into my nice satin panties, but also something like a jolt of electricity through my body. I felt my boss remove her fingers and stop kissing my breasts. After a while the sensations died down and I opened my eyes. She was looking at me and smiling. "How many boys do you know who would have an orgasm without their thingy being touched?" she grinned. "Now clean yourself up and get to sleep," she continued and, kissing me on the lips, finished with, "you have a busy day tomorrow." After she left I lay there for a while thinking about what had just happened and what she had just said until the uncomfortable feeling in my panties made me move. Before I put my cum-soaked panties in the laundry basket with the chemise I rinsed them so they wouldn't get stained. Washing and drying myself, I decided, on a whim, to wear my most feminine nightwear to bed and sighed as the long purple nightdress settled over my body. This time I decided not to wear any knickers and as I slipped under the covers, every thing felt arousing. I lay back and thought about all I had experienced over the last twenty four hours and the last four weeks. She was giving me a choice, what would I do? =#= After serving breakfast the following morning I changed into a simple outfit to go to the salon, white cotton panties, the white bra I was borrowing from Aunt Mary, jeans, white cotton blouse, white loafers and jacket. Standing at the door waiting for Fran?oise to arrive I felt nervous. I really felt I had to tell her what had happened over the last couple of nights, but I wasn't sure how she would accept the news. As I heard the car pull into the drive, I skipped out to meet her, jumped in the seat and gave her a kiss. I was trying to not show anything as I knew we wouldn't have time to get into it before the salon. Fran?oise was happy to see me, but decided not to stay with me at the salon as she had to pick up a couple of things. She said she would meet me at the end of my appointment. Walking into the salon, I was greeted like a long lost friend, and immediately shown to Kirsty's waxing room. Stripping of my outer clothes as instructed, I stood before Kirsty in my white bra and panties. "You should probably take that lovely bra off," she said, "I don't want to accidentally get wax on it." Nervously I reached behind my back and undid the clasp, letting the bra fall off my shoulders exposing my breasts. "Oh my," Kirsty gasped, "Haven't you changed since I last saw you! You really are growing into a big girl," she smiled, patting the bed for me to lie down. This waxing session did not take as long and was not as painful as the hair growth was not as much. Pretty soon Kirsty was pleased that I was hairless and would stand up to my boss's expectations. Once I was re-dressed I was taken through to Beatrice to do my hair. Apparently there was something special planned and the two stage process took an age. Firstly I was given highlights. This involved horrible smelling chemicals and sitting still for a while as they had their effect. As I was sitting there with nothing to do, Sally came over and did my nails. After giving me a pedicure, she chose and deep crimson colour for my toe nails. I was quite pleased with the colour, thinking that it appeared elegant. For my hand nails, she decided against extensions as she felt my own nails were long enough. After shaping them she decided to coat them with a pearlescent varnish. I wasn't sure that this was the kind of nail varnish a house maid should be wearing for work, but Sally seemed to think it would be fine. But the time Sally had finished it was back to Beatrice. She washed the chemicals out of my hair, brushed my hair out and then fitted a whole load of rollers as she thought I might look good with some waves. Once done with my hair looking like something out an old Star Trek episode, I had to sit under the drier. As I sat there, I started to doze off, feeling comfortable in the warm safe surroundings. I am not sure how long I was out, but I was woken by a sharp stinging on my ears. Opening my eyes with a start I looked around questioningly with a clear look of alarm on my face. "Don't worry, my dear," Sally said, "We've just pierced your ears, that's all. Just the once. Now, you need to put these studs in," she finished, handing me two small gold stud earrings. "Put I didn't want my ears pierced," I moaned. "Well, there's no going back now," Sally responded, "And anyway, we did it on orders." As she stood there I struggled to come to terms with this new development, but Sally clearly took it as a struggle to work out how to put the earrings in. "Here, let me help you," she said taking one of the earrings out of my hand, opening the clasp and fitting it into the hole in my ear. Realising I didn't really have a choice, I did the other one. "Well done," she said, "Now here is Beatrice to finish your hair." By the time Beatrice had finished my hair, I had beautiful waves down to my shoulders and light highlights throughout. There was nothing disguising the femininity of the styling. At that moment, Fran?oise walked in. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, "You look gorgeous," and, turning to Beatrice, "Are you finished with her?" "Yes, she's all yours," Beatrice responded as everybody completely ignored the fact that underneath everything I was still a boy. =#= Fran?oise had booked us in at a small restaurant for lunch, wanting to make it special because it was to be our last lunch together. As we ate, she could tell I was hiding something and eventually, after we had finished our main courses, she encouraged me to come clean. I wasn't sure where to start so I told her everything that had happened and that I had learned since Thursday evening when Mr Smith returned home to find me dressed for a party. "Oh my dear," she said holding my hand while I told her about the incident in the office, "Did it hurt?" "Well, to be honest it didn't," I admitted, and then confessed to her that it was a lot less painful than when my boss had assaulted my hole the previous week. "Oh, I see," she continued sounding concerned, "So you do not like it when I use a dildo with you, you would prefer to have a real thingy?!" "That's not what I meant," I hurried, partially not wanting to upset her and also not wanting her to think that I wanted my hole filled regularly by a real man. "When you and I make love," I continued, "It is quite enjoyable. My boss on the other hand was rough." "Oh," she said brightening a little, "So Mr Smith made love to you?!" "No," I retorted, "Well may be he thought he was, but I didn't feel like that, I was in tears. My point is that he was gentle, and apart from his seed seeping out of my hole and dribbling down my leg once he had finished, it wasn't really painful. Can we move on?" "Okay, my dear," she said patting my hand, "Here, our desserts have arrived." I then proceeded to tell her about my boss' reveal about all the medication and the 'behavioural encouragement'. Again, I was concerned about whether Fran?oise's behaviour towards me was genuine, and I asked her straight. "Of course, my dear," she said, seeming hurt that I would even question it. "She has not asked me to do anything other than look after you. Everything else I have done with you is because I wanted to because I love you," she finished, smiling. Smiling back at her, I couldn't really say anything, I was so pleased. We finished our desserts in silence before the conversation continued. "So, where does this leave you," she asked. "Well, my boss has said that at some point this weekend she will give me the choice of whether to stay or go. She didn't say when, but that the choice would be obvious. She also said she would release me from my employment with no obligations." "But how do you feel about all this medication you have been given. Surely that has had an impact." "Of course it has, but if I stop taking any of the medication, the effects will wear off and my body's natural instincts will take over. In some ways I am pleased that my transformation has been down to a lot of medication otherwise it meant I adapted far too easily." At this Fran?oise started looking hurt again. "But my dear you didn't adapt easily, you adapted well. You make a very lovely girl. I don't know what kind of boy you were and don't really want to know. I do know you look and sound beautiful as a girl. Do you really want this all to go away?" This was hard, and I really didn't know what to say. She made it harder for me. "Perhaps you no longer want this present I bought for you," she said, sliding an ivory coloured box over to me. "Go on, open it." I did, and inside found the set of lingerie I had seen in the shop window with her the previous week. Ivory satin bra, in my new size, panties and suspender belt with a pair of sheer ivory, lace top stockings. As I looked at the beautiful garments, I caught myself wondering what they would look like on and wondered whether or not to take them. Here I was, about to be given the opportunity to revert to my life as a boy, but I was being distracted by beautiful lingerie. As I looked at her face, her sad eyes and her nervously bitten lip, I realised I couldn't say no here and now (could I say no at all?). "Thank you," I said, closing the box, "I do not know when decision time will be so I may yet get a chance to wear them." This seemed to satisfy her and she smiled. It was then that I noticed the time. "I'm sorry, but we are going to have to cut it short today as my boss is having a party and needs me to finish setting up." "No worries, my dear. It has been lovely" We paid, and then headed back to my house. Before I got out of the car we had a huge hug and kiss. "Thank you for everything," I said without word of a lie, "Particularly thank you for being a friend with no questions asked. I do hope we will be able to see each other again some time." "Perhaps," she replied, "Look after yourself," and with that she was gone. =#= As I entered the house it was a whirlwind of activity and I didn't get a chance to change into my uniform before helping out, but my boss did stop to check me up and down and express her pleasure with the way I now looked. After a couple of hours work, my boss called me over and suggested that I start getting ready for the evening as guests would be turning up in a couple of hours. She told me she would be up in a few moments to get out the uniform she wanted me to wear as she hadn't made the decision yet. Running myself a hot bath, pouring in the lavender bath lotion without thinking about it, I made the decision that whatever uniform I was to wear, I would definitely be wearing my new lingerie underneath. I felt I owed that to Fran?oise. Stripping off my clothes, I put a shower cap over my hair and slipped into the hot bath. As I lay there luxuriating in the warmth, aroma and tingling sensation, I heard someone come into my room. "Don't worry, only me," my boss called out, "Just getting out the clothes I think you could wear tonight." I heard wardrobes open and close, and some murmurs of 'maybe', 'yes', 'oh she will look perfect' before the bathroom door opened. I started. "Sorry to disturb you dear," she said, poking her head around the door and smiling. "I just wanted to check how you were getting on. If you need a hand getting dressed, just call." "Thank you," I responded meekly, and smiling and winking at me she left. =#= Several minutes later, I stepped out of the bath dripping and towelled myself dry. Wrapping the towel around my breasts, I walked into my room to see what she had chosen for me to wear. As expected I saw my lilac French Maids dress hanging on the wardrobe and I groaned. Then, however, I gasped as I saw hanging next to it a beautiful long ivory satin dress with capped sleeves a scooped neck and darts on the breast and tucks at the waist, on the floor next to the dress were a pair of ivory satin court shoes with a short but delicate heel. I reached out to touch the beautiful material. I felt I just had to experience what it was like to wear it. Perhaps this was the choice. If I chose to wear the maids dress was that a sign of me accepting my fate as a maid to work in her house for the future. If I chose to wear the ivory dress, was that me saying thank you for everything, I have enjoyed this experience of femininity but I no longer want to be your maid. This must be the choice. What should I do? Accept my fate as a feminised maid, or embrace ultra femininity one last time and go out in a blaze of glory. One thing I did know is that I would be wearing my new lingerie, and as I sat on the edge of the bed, making my decision, I slowly unpacked it from the box. =#= Should it be continued?