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STUCK I never thought I would find the perfect woman, perfect for me, that is. You see, I have a little hobby, well, not so little when it comes to finding a partner. You see, I can't find out if they would put up with it until I know I can trust them and they won't up and leave me. Unfortunately, I can't trust them until I know if they would put up with me after they know my secret. Before my head hurts any more I will just confirm, as if you didn't know, that my hobby is dressing in the most feminine ladies clothes I can find, not all the time you understand, just when I need to relax and 'be myself'. There is also a significant further problem in that whilst I'm not the richest person in the world, I'm sufficiently comfortable financially not to have to work in a conventional job, ever. Then I met Becky. Miss Rebecca Stephens was herself an heiress to enough assets for her to be worried about gold diggers. Then she met me. What she found in me is a complete mystery as apart from my financial security, which she didn't need, I can't claim to be much of a catch, but she found something. It probably helped that she rather liked to be able to boss her boyfriends about, and I'm definitely of a submissive nature. Neither am I the traditional 'tall, dark and handsome' type and being the same height, around five feet six inches, meant that she normally looked down on me when we were out and she was in high heels, which she loved. On the credit side, though, we both knew each other's families, so we were confident in each other not having fiscal demands and somehow everything clicked. Not long after we had celebrated our twenty second birthdays, within a week of each other, I decided that it was time to take a gamble and reveal my big secret before popping the question. It took me a long time to spit it out, and then I waited for the cries of 'pervert' or 'sicko' or worse still, her running away and publicising the reason. None of that happened. I'm delighted and astonished that she found it amusing, in a nice way, and without doubt, something she could live with. She even commented on how lucky I was to have small features that could easily have been a girl's. She genuinely looked forward to having a girl and boy friend rolled into one, and when I then asked her to marry me, becoming Mrs Nicholas Mills, she was over the moon. "My only regret, my love," she told me, "is that convention dictates that you won't be able to enjoy your wedding day in a dress like mine, you know what our families are like, but I will make it up to you, I promise." I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Our wedding followed nearly six months later, the delay caused because everything had to be just right, mainly through the ideas of our mothers, they were being so fastidious. We had very little say in things, allowing the society wedding to be precisely orchestrated from beginning to end. The bridesmaids and a host of other attendants had to be selected by their ranking in the County's Families, everything colour coordinated from the table cloths at the reception to the firework display at the end of the evening. Once it was all over, we set off for our honeymoon on a Caribbean Island. There my wonderful wife organised a surprise for me. Before we left she insisted that I pack a couple of dresses, together with accessories, like my gel breast forms. What I didn't know was that she'd arranged for an identical wedding dress to hers, with the brides undies, in my size (almost, but not quite the same as hers) so that we could have a repeat of the ceremony. It was on the beach, as the sun was going down, I was the bride, and the love of my life wore a feminine version of my man's suit for the occasion. Words to tell her how much I loved her and her idea wouldn't come to me. I couldn't say anything that would adequately express my feelings. Just before the ceremony, when I found out what she'd arranged, I had tears in my eyes, I was so happy. Back in the real world we decided to settle down, buying an estate a couple of hundred miles from our families and friends, insisting that they were always welcome to stay, but to confirm in advance of their arrival that we would actually be at home. This ensured, Becky pointed out to me, that I could be en femme whenever I wanted to, and we would have a warning of anyone coming. We had a couple of gardeners to look after the grounds round the house and the rest of the estate, which was mainly woodland. The house was large but not enormous, six bedrooms, so with just the two of us, one maid would be able to do most of the cleaning, etc.. Help would be needed when we had guests and then we had a local business that would supply maids, cleaners, cooks and so on, in order to satisfy any requirements, and then of course, I would be the man of the house. We arrived in out new home in the late afternoon, so I didn't have much time to explore, but the next morning, after breakfast, I dressed myself in a simple white blouse, grey straight skirt and three inch heels, and Becky took delight in helping me fix my breast forms with adhesive. I was hopeful that they would be able to stay in place for some time, then Becky took me up into the attic to show me something that had sold her the house; she had arranged it all, I had little input. The main staircase rose in stages from the entrance hall below, but another set of stairs, much narrower, went from just behind the kitchen up to the attic where the servants' quarters were. There were three smallish bedrooms, a bath and shower room and a communal day room with a three piece suite, coffee table, television and a small drinks refrigerator. She'd had a door put in between two of the bedrooms, and made one of them a walk in wardrobe complete with vanity chest with lights round the mirror, ideal for putting on make up. The third bedroom was furnished, but obviously there was no bedding on the mattress. Already hanging on the rail in there were a number of different coloured maids' dresses each with a coordinated set of undies, caps and shoes with either five or six inch heels. The bedroom had been re-decorated and the single bed had bedside units with light and alarm clock. "Do you think that you should dress appropriately for doing our laundry this morning, Nancy?" she asked me. "Of course, Mistress," I replied smiling, "but why Nancy?" "I don't know, but it seems to me that a maid would have a name like Nancy. I couldn't imagine a company director being called Nancy, although I'm almost certain to be insulting to someone, somewhere. Do you like it?" "I certainly do, Mistress." That seemed again inadequate for how I was feeling, bearing in mind how she'd arranged things for me, although I wasn't sure about the height of the shoes, I didn't think I would be able to keep them on more than a few minutes. "These uniforms require you to have a narrow waist, and the shapely long legs that I've seen that you have. I know you'll find them very sexy, so I'll give you a hand to put one on for the first time if you like," she offered. Upon further investigation I could see why she thought that I would need help. I realised that I needed to wear a corset underneath them, and I'd never had a lace up one before. As it turned out, it was hard to stand the tight lacing, but it did absolutely delicious things for my figure pushing my 'breasts' up as well as reducing my waist, and the finished look with the uniform was so sexy I almost came on the spot. Becky pointed out that she wouldn't be helping me to lace up in future, showing me a hook on the wall that I could used to pull the laces tight. The first uniform dress I wore was black with white lace trim and voluminous net and satin petticoats, white with black satin round the edges, that made the miniscule skirt stand out horizontally, the black suspenders contrasting with my pale thighs and white stockings. The skirt and petticoats were so short that they only just covered my frilly rumba panties. The five inch heels were a problem, but I sincerely hoped from my experience with three inch ones, that I could become used to them once I had them on for a while. Becky found me complaining about how my legs ached highly amusing and, getting into the spirit of my supposed masochistic tendencies, she had me get rid of all my shoes under five inch heels. I regretted it immediately when Becky set me to work dusting and vacuuming that first full day, until it was time for me to prepare a simple lunch, which the two of us ate together. I had wanted a little bit to serve Becky as my Mistress, acting a real maid waiting on her, but she drew the line at that, pointing out that she wouldn't have anyone to talk to. I had to concede this, as she was so good in other respects, catering for my admittedly rather strange hobby. So our married life progressed for the next few months. I didn't want to dress all the time, in fact after the novelty of the first few weeks, 'Nancy' only made an appearance perhaps three or four times a week at most, sometimes not enough to complete the house work. When that happened, 'Nicholas' was happy to step in and do the odd bit of dusting and vacuuming, even preparing occasional meals. Cooking, I soon learned, was something I not only had a flair for, I actually enjoyed searching for new recipes and trying them out on us. Becky would sooner eat out than do any cooking herself, but with my new found skills, we didn't have to do that to eat well. While I was in the kitchen working, I had there a number of very long, practical aprons, that I could wear over the top of my normal (if normal is the right word) uniforms. I could slip out of it when I served the meal. We entertained several weekends, but as we had planned, got staff in to deal with the extended requirements of several visitors. Christmas was a case in point. We had both our families down for the holiday, which turned out to be our last with everyone. Three weeks later, both of our sets of parents went to an event that they had all arranged while staying with us. Travelling in the same limousine together, a drunk driver crashed into them, overturning their vehicle into a ditch, where it caught fire. We were each deprived of our parents in one horrendous moment. For the next six months we were both busy arranging for our inheritances to be cared for, neither of us was interested in working in businesses we didn't really understand. Therefore, with the maximum effort over a relatively short period of time, we had directors and managers appointed that would take care of our interests. Wary of the occasionally dishonest person, we spread our empires over a number of areas, thus minimising our risks. Finally we were able to return to our indolent life style and Nancy was able to appear again. Of course the novelty of being able to dress again when I wanted after such a long time, meant that I spent several days at a time as Nancy. Causing my chest to develop two red patches where my 'breasts' were attached, this upset me, I hated just having loose 'breasts' floating around in my bra. Becky suggested that, rather have that problem, and in view of my never being able to stop dressing for the rest of my life, I get myself modest breast implants. If I got slightly better than 'B' size, I could still present myself as a man when I needed, and if they got troublesome, I could have them removed. I attended a very private clinic in France, where we discovered they did an implant that could be varied in size without a great deal of trouble, so I could have my preferred 'C' cup size. They also used a very localised type of oestrogen injection, that increased both the size and sensitivity of my nipples. I had always had very erogenous nipples, now I almost climaxed when Becky played with them for any length of time. They also showed me that, as I wouldn't be the 'man' of the house for an extended period, I could tuck myself after covering my bits with a medical adhesive. After pushing my balls up into my body, tucking my penis back, I could then attach a very realistic looking vagina and still pee but sitting down. Of course I had long since lost all my body hair, or the process would have been more complicated. Becky found the method fascinating but told me that it was part of the game that I wouldn't be given the solvent until she decided that I deserved it. To that end I spent hours with my head down between her legs, bringing her off time after time, while getting rather frustrated myself. She would often tell me that 'perhaps she would release me next time'. I should point out that often I wore tights rather than stockings with my sexy uniforms, as I thought the suspenders were really too much, and tights allowed me at least to be a little reserved. I had ordered several things on the internet, so I wasn't surprised when that morning the doorbell rang. I answered it in my pink uniform because Becky was still getting dressed and I had signed for several things before as Nancy. Imagine my shock and horror, when the door opened to four strangers, two men and two women. "Good morning, can you tell us if Mrs Mills is in?" It was a tall willowy blonde woman who asked. I was completely taken aback and wasn't sure how to answer her. I just wanted the ground to open in front of me, I was doing a fair imitation of a guppy with my mouth flapping and nothing coming out. "Did you hear what I just asked, girl?" I shook myself mentally and eventually broke out of my stupor, giving my best curtsey. "Would you mind waiting a moment, she was going out, but I'll check. Who can I say is calling?" "Tell her it's Sharon and Diana, we used to know her at University." I suddenly realised that a maid wouldn't keep people on the doorstep, so showed the four of them into our front lounge, and told them that I wouldn't be a minute. I practically ran up the stairs, in spite of the stupid heels I was wearing, and burst into our bedroom. "Becky, I've just made a big mistake, two of your old friends are here and I thought it was a delivery and answered the door and now they're downstairs they're Sharon and Diana." The words tumbled from my mouth. "It's alright, Nancy, calm down, just stay in character for a bit and I'll entertain them. Now, go downstairs and tell them I'll be right there, and don't forget to curtsey, they'll expect that, and get us all coffees if they want one." I made my way back to our visitors, a little more sedately, curtseyed, told them that my Mistress would be with them shortly, and would they like coffees? They told me how they liked them and I went off to the kitchen to carry out my instructions. By the time I was bringing the tray with the drinks back, Becky had greeted them like long lost family, more or less ignoring me. I just caught the end of the conversation about their husbands, mainly, then the subject abruptly changed. "We were all terribly upset when we heard about your family, Rebecca," Sharon was saying, "it must have been terrible for you, and losing your husband as well." I nearly dropped the cup I was passing over to one of the men. They had got the wrong story, but I could tell that Becky was thinking very quickly. "Yes, it was an awful time, I don't know what I'd have done without my maid, Nancy, she's such a treasure." Becky looked at me and grinned. "Anyway, what are you guys doing here so far from home?" "Well we're down here for a long weekend, we've got to find a hotel, then Rachel and her boyfriend are going to join us." Diana explained. "You can't stay in a hotel, you must stay here," Becky offered, then smiled at me again. "I'll organise some help for Nancy, so it won't be too much for her to cope with." I was practically bursting and wanted to ask my wife what the hell she thought she was doing, but of course had to remain silent. "Do all your maids wear such revealing uniforms?" one of the husbands asked, but I could see Diana kick his shin. "No, and Nancy wouldn't be wearing it if she knew you were coming," Becky laughed when she told them "but they are colourful and cool to work in, and she told me that they gives her a bit of a lift, anyway I think the shoes do." At that they all laughed. "Actually, I think she's a bit of an exhibitionist on the quiet and you're unlucky today, Jim, she often wears stockings." "That we have to see," commented Derek. Embarrassed as I was, I still noticed the expression on the men's faces, it was a picture. Not so good was their insistence that I continue to wear the dresses that I 'preferred'. "Actually Rebecca," Sharon was thoughtful, "when Rachel arrives tomorrow, she will have her driver with her, and he usually pitches in with household duties when he's needed. So there's no need to get in extra help." My further eavesdropping on their conversation was curtailed by Becky telling me to go upstairs and make up the extra beds. Worried sick that they would spot that I was a man, but I can't pretend that it wasn't a bit of a thrill for me, to be a real maid, and it was only for a weekend. Once I had finished, the men helped me to bring in their suitcases, and I showed them to their rooms. After that I was sent to the kitchen to prepare light lunches. Becky told me that they would all be going out after lunch and would get dinner out, so I had no need to think about feeding anyone other than myself. I put some part baked bread rolls in the oven and made up a large salad, serving portions of cooked chicken that I had in the freezer. I laid the dining table and asked about wine. The women said that they would like something light, so I opened two bottles (on Becky's order) of Muscadet sur lie and placed them in ice buckets, ready for me to pour. During the course of the meal, I learned that Diana's husband was Jim and Sharon's Derek, I referred to them as Sir, of course, and the ladies as Madame, emphasis a la Fran(ais on the last syllable. I also heard that Rachel, arriving the next day had a fianc?e named Miles Carter. As the wine took effect, Becky became increasingly amused at my situation, having me jump to attention every time someone's glass was getting low, although not Derek's as he was going to drive. She even dropped her serviette under the table, just to see me have to crawl under to get it. This naturally showed my frilly panties covering my bottom and I swear I felt Jim's hand on it as I was between him and my wife. After they all went out I cleared up the mess they had left, and went to make up the third bedroom for the arrival of the other couple. Then I had a quandary, they had a driver coming as well, and in view of what they had said, I took a chance and made up the bed in the servants' quarters, in the room next to mine, assuming that he wouldn't be given a bed in the guests' area of the house. I wasn't looking forward to him staying, I just hoped and prayed that he was a gentleman. The rest of the afternoon and evening I spent doing some cooking of various petit fours and other nibbles, that I was sure would be asked for over the weekend. I broke off to eat a snack, I didn't really have much of an appetite, I was too nervous, and then continued playing around with odd things until I noticed that it was gone eleven o'clock. Finally, at nearly midnight, I heard a taxi arriving outside the front door. I opened it for them, and five very drunk persons staggered in. Fortunately they all wanted to go straight to bed, so, after giving them all time to get settled, I crept along to our bedroom to speak to my wife. "We've got to find some way of getting out of this," I told her. "Why?" She just couldn't stop giggling. "Because you've told them that I'm dead, and if you don't point out the mistake, I'll never be able to be anything other than your maid in front of them." "Oh don't be such a party pooper, Nancy. We'll hardly ever see them in future, and you'll enjoy being the submissive little servant when they are around, and it's turning me on something crazy, seeing you doing everything anyone tells you." With that, I helped her undress and into her nightdress, then had to get between her legs and use my mouth, reminding me that I was all stuck up underneath so this was all I was capable of doing with her. When I left her and went to bed, she was happy, I was very frustrated. I woke early the next morning, dressed in my yellow uniform, tights and accessories, trying to look my best, then went down to the kitchen and started to prepare things for breakfast. I had coffee and a slice of toast, not that I was hungry, but I wasn't sure when I would have time to eat later. Sharon and Derek were first down, soon followed by my wife who settled them in the breakfast room where I had filled two jugs of coffee and placed them on the hotplate to keep them warm. At half past nine, once everyone was there, Becky offered a cooked breakfast but everyone opted for fresh croissants which she knew I always had the makings of, in the freezer. I served them to a very hung over group of people. As she wasn't feeling as bad as some, Becky offered to drive one of the men into town to collect their car. While they were gone, the others were more busy than I realised. Jim, who had stayed behind, decided that the old system of servant bells ought to be renovated. Perhaps I should explain. When we, or should I say, Becky, bought the house, it was in considerable need of restoration. This wasn't a problem, and was dealt with by builders while we were on honeymoon. What they didn't restore was the bell ring system for a maid or butler. In each of the main rooms was a pull cord. This used to be connected to bells in both the kitchen and the maid's room, telling them with a light which room they were required in. We had no need for it, so nothing was done to get it working. Apparently Jim fancied himself as a do it yourself expert, and with a little tweaking, and connecting a few wires, he got it going again, not realising that we didn't actually have any staff here. I thought that was bad enough, but in both our absences, Sharon and Diana had a nose about and discovered that my clothes, that is my male clothes, were in our wardrobe in our bedroom. They assumed, because they thought I was dead, that Becky was hanging on to them for some morbid reason, and being good friends, they decided to act in her best interest, even though they knew she didn't want to act. The deed they had in mind was to get rid of my clothes. Being rather involved in cooking, ready for lunch, and showing Jim around, telling him which rooms were which, I knew nothing of this, nor did I see them carrying everything out to Jim's car. The first I heard, was when Sharon came to join us and Jim asked where Diana was. "She's just used your car to take a load of things to the charity shop in town," she told him, then to me, "Did you know that your mistress still had all her husband's old clothes in their wardrobe, Nancy?" "Yes Madame, she has a very particular reason for keeping them." I suddenly had a horrible feeling. "I don't care what the reason is, she shouldn't live in the past, it's not healthy, we've got rid of them." Was all she said, and walked out of the room. I raced outside, only to see their car and my clothes disappearing down our drive and out of the gates. I raced back into the house and asked if 'Mistress Diana' could be contacted on her cell phone. "I don't think that's likely," said Jim, "it's in my coat pocket from last night and that's upstairs, anyway, why would you want to contact her?" "It's just that I believe my Mistress had a very particular reason for keeping those clothes, Sir." "Well, it would seem to be too late now." He ended the matter and I was left realising that I was a maid until Becky could replace my real clothes. Soon after that the additional guests arrived being driven in a stretch limousine. I went out and introduced myself and offered to take their cases up to their room. The driver told me that he would do it, if I would just show him where it was, then I could attend to the needs of his employers. It seemed that they only wanted coffee, so as soon as that was dealt with, I returned to the kitchen to find that 'Ben' the chauffeur had found his way there and already had more coffee on the go for himself. While we each had the drink, I needed it by then, the other two couples were reuniting and talking over shared memories. I then heard more cars approaching, and they turned out to be Becky and Derek, followed soon after by the returning Sharon. Not long after that they all decided that they had got over their hangovers and that lunch would be in order. I had already anticipated that, and had prepared a light lunch of salmon fillets poached in Chablis with boiled Jersey Royal potatoes and asparagus with a Hollandaise sauce, then cr?me br(l(es for sweet followed by a cheese board for those that wanted it. Ben helped me to serve the meal but went back to the kitchen to eat his, while I stayed in the room to top up wine, etc., and it was then that Becky heard what had been done with my clothes. "Diana and I decided that it wasn't healthy for you to hang on to Nicholas's clothes like you were," Sharon told my wife, "so we took the decision to get rid of them for you." "You've done what?" Becky asked, nearly as shocked as I had been. "We've taken all those old clothes of your husband's to a charity shop." Diana made clear. "You shouldn't have done that." Becky was cross, I could see it in her face. "I don't like other people organising my life, you should have known me well enough to understand that. Please don't do it in future." I realised that there was no point in making it any bigger of a thing, what was done was done, I could just buy replacements, and any more fuss would only raise more questions. As it was, I saw them glance at each other across the table and hoped it was because they realised that they'd upset their hostess. The lunch continued with a slight tension in the air, as the two women realised that they'd overstepped the mark, at least, that was what I thought it was. Jim lightened things considerably when he told Becky that he'd fixed the call cord so that she could let me know when she needed me and in what room she was in. Becky found this perversely amusing, realising that it gave her extra control of her 'maid' when I was on duty. From the rest of the conversation that I overheard, it seemed that they were all going to look at a neighbouring estate, then go on to our golf club to eat and enjoy an evening's entertainment. I knew that they held a dinner/dance every Saturday night, I felt a little envious that I was the only one not going. Ben was going to drive them in the limo. Becky mentioned to me that they would all be needing dinner in on Sunday evening but would be gone for most of the day, so I would have plenty of time to prepare it. She wanted me to draught a menu and let her know before they left to go out. I naturally just curtseyed to let her know that I understood. While they all tidied up after lunch, prior to their trip out, I went to our bedroom and told Becky what I planned for dinner the next night and she was quite happy. "Why on earth didn't you stop them from dumping your man clothes?" she asked me. "I had no idea what they were doing until Sharon had already left the house, I even tried to call her back, but she'd not taken her phone with her," I mournfully complained. "I wouldn't have put it past you to help them, so that you could spend longer in your frillies." Becky looked at me as if she really thought that was a possibility. I couldn't have denied it more vehemently and I think that she believed me. Left on my own, I replenished my stock of pastry for croissants in the freezer and started to work on a couple of dinner things for the next night. To that end I telephoned our local supplier to have him urgently deliver many of the items on my menu ready for the next day. I ate at seven, then had a couple of hours rest, setting the alarm, so that I wouldn't miss them coming home. As it turned out, I was glad I had some rest, as it was nearly two in the morning before they all got in, again, all the worse for wear. I was told that ten o'clock would be early enough for breakfast in the morning. I had helped Becky get into her nightdress again, but she told me to get straight to bed myself, as she was tired. I had just got up into my room, when there was a buzzing noise. At first I was mystified, then I realise that it was the maid caller from Diana and Jim's room. I went down, knocked and was told to enter, then was shocked to see Diana walking towards me stark naked. "I'm going to want these undies tomorrow night, will you wash and dry them for me tonight?" She handed me the bra and panties, still warm from where she had removed them, while I tried not to stare at her very shapely body with what looked like a freshly shaped Brazilian. All I could do was to stay silent, curtsey, and get away as quickly as I could. I must say that I have rarely had such a titillating experience as being made to hand wash the intimates of a relative stranger in my own bathroom and with the sight of her beautiful nude body still fresh in my mind. My poor penis tried in vain to escape its confines. After that I had to deal with the amorous approaches made by Ben with him in the next bedroom, as I say, my life had taken some very strange twists in the previous thirty six hours. I was quite proud my control though, the way I dealt with Ben, I simply told him that I was gay, so he was the wrong sex. Sunday morning breakfast was much the same as Saturday's. Hung over and just coffee and croissants, in spite of the late start, but they weren't long before they left to see whatever it was to see, all in the limo. I spent the rest of the morning making beds, cleaning and vacuuming round where everyone had been, placing Diana's undies in her drawer with the rest of her things. I laid up the table for dinner, then spent the rest of the time preparing food for the formal dinner. At about three o'clock the phone rang and when I picked it up I was surprised to hear Becky on the other end. "Nancy, I'm sorry to spring this on you, but we will be ten for dinner and we would like it at eight, we should be back at about seven, but we'll need to change and we'll have aperitifs first. Have you got that?" "Yes but who are you inviting?" "Don't be nosey, girl, it's none of your business." She laughed and hung up. I looked at the caller ID, but I was none the wiser, except that it wasn't her cell, it was a local land line. I immersed myself in work, trying not to dwell on the mystery of the tenth guest, and laid the extra place at the table. Our dining room and table are meant for entertaining. The table was wide as well as long (it could be further extended to make it nearly three times longer) but for the meal now I had a couple sat at each end and three persons down each side, alternating overall with man, woman, man and so on. Now I was worried about the mystery guest sitting so close to my wife. I returned to the kitchen and reapportioned the cold courses and altering my written plan of things to do for the meal. I had already got three bottles each of red and white wines out of the cellar, so I added another one of each. I also put champagne and desert wines on ice, then at six thirty I opened the clarets for them to breathe. At a quarter to seven they all arrived home, bubbling with enthusiasm, and I was called up to our bedroom by Becky. "I'm sorry about the extra guest, darling," she sounded worried and seemed to be playing for time with what she had to say, "Rachel and Miles are going to get married, as you know. Well it turns out that they have been looking at the Dowager House on Lord David Welling's estate, next to us." "That means that their visits will become common, what am I going to do?" A sense of panic was coming over me. "I'm afraid that's not all." She took a deep breath. "They made it so that I had to invite David over here for dinner, you know that his wife died of cancer eighteen months ago and then his mother last month, and he seemed so very lonely." "They're trying to pair the two of you off, aren't they?" The horrible realisation hit me like a club. "Yes, I'm afraid they are, but don't worry about that, he's definitely not my type, although I will have to pay him attention tonight. Regardless of that, the last thing I want you to do is get either upset or jealous. Just remember that I'm playing a part as well. Oh, I promised the guys that you would be in stockings tonight, by the way." Normally the very idea of prancing around in front of other people in my ridiculous costume would have appalled me, but just then I had too many other things to worry about. I placed trays of petit fours ready and went up and changed into my Lilac uniform with the matching shoes, I only had six inch heels in lilac colour, and the requested stockings. As the guests started to appear in the front lounge I offered the trays round, while Ben, in a smart butler's outfit, mixed and served the drinks. At just after half past seven the door bell rang, and I was sent to answer it. I suppose I expected a man in perhaps his early sixties, but Lord David could only have been barely thirty and very tall, dark and handsome. Oh dear, oh dear, no wonder Becky thought I might be jealous. He was everything that I wasn't. I showed him in to join the others and the first thing he did was to kiss my wife, albeit not on the lips. "The men told me to expect something special with your maid tonight." He told Becky, after he had ordered his drink and taken a pastry from my tray. "You certainly know how to get your male visitors in the right mood, Rebecca." He was standing so close to her that her head was practically on his collar. I was relieved when I was able to tell them that dinner was to be served. I was pleased to see that Ben was well used to table service and that took quite a load from me. He managed the soup tureen, while I offered the fresh bread rolls, then he stood by serving the wines while I went to the kitchen to get the fish course ready, Dover sole Veronique. This is a favourite of mine, combining wine, butter, cream and grapes, among other things, and looks as good as it tastes although it takes a time to prepare. The main course was de-boned quail stuffed with foie gras, served with creamed potatoes, petit pois and a violet mustard sauce, we had bought the last item to make the sauce when we last went to the Dordogne area of France. Ben and I stood at opposite ends of the dining room to top up wine or water and deal with anything else that might crop up. I portioned the sweet on the side table, having shown everyone the huge strawberry Pavlova that I had made, then the meal was rounded off with port and cheeses. Throughout the meal I was disturbed to see Lord David and Becky sharing little whispered comments with each other, touching each other at the slightest excuse. When they all withdrew to the sitting room for brandies and coffees, I noticed that my wife chose a two seat settee, where David joined her, putting his arm round her shoulder. Unfortunately I was unable to study further progress, as I was told they would call if they needed anything, and that I could get on with clearing up. Ben ate one of the extra quails that I had cooked, but I couldn't fancy it, and ended up forcing myself to eat a cheese sandwich, rather than be hungry in the night. At one o'clock I was called into the sitting room and congratulated on the meal I had cooked, then Ben and I were both released from duty and told that we could go to bed. I went up but couldn't think about rest until, about half an hour later, I heard a car arrive. It was a driver to take David home. I let my breath out and felt as if I had been holding it all night. I waited until the others had gone to their rooms then went to call on my Mistress. "Nancy, I'm so pleased to see you," she told me. "Help me get undressed then take me to bed, I so need you." Of course that resulted in terrible blue balls for me, I couldn't unstick myself, but I gave my wife several climaxes, and left her dozing off, to return to my servant's quarters. I was delighted that it was Monday and we would be saying goodbye to our guests. I watched Becky wave goodbye to them after breakfast the next morning, and I was just about to say to her that I thanked goodness that was over, when she put her finger to her lips to quieten me. "Ah, Nancy, I'm glad I caught you before you get busy in the kitchen again," she was speaking, enunciating each word, as if she wanted someone else to hear, "Miss Rachel and Mr Carter, with their driver, will be staying this week, while they negotiate the purchase of a property. Because these things are so variable, I can't give you how many days for certain, but buy in provisions for them until after next weekend, when they will be joined by the same party that just left, Mr and Mrs Parsons and Mr and Mrs Tavenor. They will be here just Friday night through to Sunday afternoon." She must have seen the look of horror on my face because she mouthed a silent; 'I'm sorry' to me before she returned to the front lounge to rejoin her guests. Ben was in the kitchen and remained there while I made two pat(s, a smoked salmon and a chicken liver, and prepared them in about six packets of two portions each ready for the freezer but not putting them in yet. He tried his best to make small talk, but I'm afraid I wasn't in the mood. I ended up apologising to him, telling him that I had rather a lot on my mind. I found it amusing, that every time I worked in the kitchen, his interest in me diminished once I had my cover-all apron on. I did them a light lunch and then Ben took the couple out for the afternoon, saying they wouldn't be back until after dinner. At last it gave Becky and me a chance to talk, as soon as I had finished tidying their bedroom. "I'm sorry the way things are turning out, Nancy." She kept up my girl name I noticed. "Things have just snowballed and I have no idea how to get out of it but, having said that, I bet you have really been enjoying yourself. Although I guess it must have been rather hard work." "We must tell them that they were mistaken, that I'm really alive." I was grasping at straws. "Couldn't you say that I left you to do some work abroad, and that you didn't like it, so you played along when they assumed I was dead. Then, as soon as there is no one here, Nancy leaves you to live with a girlfriend, and after about ten days, I return. Voila!" "The plan's perfect, except for one thing. They'll probably recognise you." Becky hesitated, then said, "Is that how you kept Ben's attention off you? You told him you were a lesbian?" "Well I had to tell him something and I didn't know what else to say." I was downcast. "Anyway, getting back to our problem, can't you think of anything else we can do?" "There's only one thing I can think of right now, come upstairs with me." Becky led the way up to our bedroom. She took something out of a drawer, came over to me and pulled down my panties. I felt something cool over my privates, then a little pulling pain as my false vagina came off and my penis and balls were freed. "Go and wash off the residue, then come back to me here." Becky started to strip off her clothes. By the time I got back from the bathroom, she was naked and in bed. "Turn round," she told me, and I felt her helping me out of the tight confines of both my dress and corset. In no time, I had shed my tights and shoes as well, and joined her for a session that lasted into the evening. Unfortunately we both realised that it couldn't last, that we were being forced back into a situation that wasn't of our choosing. After another cleanup in the shower, my bits had to be stuck up out of the way again and covered, before I had to return to my subservient role and clothes. One improvement that Becky insisted on, we had a maid service call in for three hours every afternoon, when a small army, well five anyway, descended on the house, vacuuming it top to bottom, made the beds, dusting specific rooms each day and helped me by giving the kitchen a thorough clean. She arranged this for all the time we had guests here, in the first instance until the following Monday, with options to carry it on. This changed my life. All I had to do was to prepare the meals, which I enjoyed doing, and now that the pressure was off me, I even got a kick out of serving everyone in my sexy little uniforms. I knew that I was a big hit with at least the men, being able to appreciate my legs, heels, narrow waist and my boobs, but as I was serving dinner to Becky, Rachel and her intended, another bombshell was dropped. He casually mentioned that they were all invited along with the Parsons and the Tavenors, to dinner at David's Manor House on Saturday evening, but he asked Becky, on behalf of David Welling, if they could borrow Nancy to help serve. He especially asked if I would be told to wear my lilac uniform again. "I'm afraid that Nancy's contract gives her the option of working if it involves going outside this house, so we must ask her." Becky was giving me a 'get out' but I didn't want her going to another man's home at all, and certainly not without me, so I had to acquiesce. With this further challenge lurking on the horizon, the week went by without major incident. It also passed without us having the opportunity to spend time as husband and wife, as someone was either about the house, or Becky felt obliged to accept their invitation to join them on some of their shopping trips, buying things for the anticipated new home. That didn't preclude me from a nightly duty between my wife's gorgeous thighs. When I raised the idea of unsticking me, she simply told me that we wouldn't feel like putting me back together afterwards and there wouldn't be time in the morning. Friday lunchtime they all went out for a meal, with the idea of joining the others in a late supper when they arrived, which they duly did, at eight thirty or so. I had Ben to help me with their suitcases, and while I unpacked for them, he served drinks for everyone, once they had freshened up. We both again served the meal, the whole process being much easier for me now that I had a great deal of help. After everyone had a cooked breakfast in the morning, they went off out for the day in the limo, and once I had cleared up, Lord David's car arrived to collect me. I was told to bring an overnight bag, and, as instructed I packed one for Becky as well, including a dress bag which contained the one she wanted to wear, to change into, and a further one to go home in. I had a second bag containing my lilac uniform and six inch heels, I wore a black uniform and five inch heels to help out during the day, together with one of my kitchen aprons. I had seen the Manor House from a distance before and wasn't that impressed, but inside it was almost a museum exhibit. It was much bigger than it looked, and contained the relics of his forebears, with shields and swords on the walls and suits of armour each highly polished. The kitchen, however was as modern as they come, and he had three staff already working there. I pitched in, helping where I could, dressed in my kitchen apron, but I soon learned that the reputation of my culinary skills had gone before me, and I was frequently asked for advice. They didn't realise, although I soon told them, that I learned recipes from books, and only gave them minor twists of my own. I also learned that their meal was actually more like a banquet, with nearly fifty guests. I helped lay the tables in the Baronial Hall, the layout was a top table, with places laid only on the side looking out into the room, then two long tables running away from it at right angles, laid on both sides and filling the room. I learned from the place names, that my wife was to sit to the right of his Lordship, with Rachel then Miles Carter to his left, the other two couples were on the lower table. The reason for the get together was to welcome my wife and her friend to living in the area. I had been apparently 'volunteered' to wait on the top table, then to serve digestif drinks, port or brandy, to the men after they retired to the library. It didn't take much imagination on my part to work out why it was me, in my costume, that was chosen to be in the library. Worse was to follow. I had left my and Becky's bags in the staff cloakroom, but as the afternoon went on I was told to take them to our respective rooms. We went first to a room on the top floor of the house, and I was given a bed, sharing the room with her, Joan, one of the regular house maids. Then she then took me down one floor to where most of the other bedrooms were. The maid knocked on a door and was told to enter, followed by myself. I was surprised to see His Lordship, dressing, in fact just pulling up his trousers. "The maid with Mrs Mills bags are here, Your Lordship," she told him and curtseyed. "Very good, Joan, you can leave us," he replied. "Now, Nancy, hang your Mistress's dresses in that wardrobe there, use that draw for anything else." He indicated a nearly empty walk in wardrobe that just had a few of his suits in and a series of drawers against one wall. I could see a second wardrobe filled with his clothes. "You can place her nightgown on my bed." My mouth dropped open, but I couldn't speak, even if my opinion had been allowed, I could only think that I had walked into a nightmare. In a stunned silence, I did as I was told, curtseyed and returned to the kitchen until six o'clock when all the serving staff were told to go and change. I had hoped to see all the others wearing a similar costume to mine, but in view of the latest development, I had forgotten that, and only noticed in passing, their shorter, but still decent uniforms. I was intended to stand out. Two or three of the maids wanted to know how I was able to stand in my heels, and why the outlandish costume. I told them that it was what my Mistress wanted, and that I had more or less got used to the heels, which was really an exaggeration. The other maids had to welcome the guests with drinks and petit fours, it seemed that I was being held back as some sort of surprise. It wasn't until half past seven, that the guests were all ushered through to the Hall and to their seats at the tables. Then His Lordship's Butler gave me a gift wrapped box, and told me to take it and deliver it to His Lordship on top table. I carried them in on a silver platter, then had to return to the kitchen without knowing what was going on, although I did hear some clapping later. The next time I was sent from the kitchen it was to carry in a tray with the starter to the meal, together with Ben. We took in four plates each, to serve the eight on the table. It was then I noticed that my wife was wearing a diamond necklace and bracelet of obviously some value, that she hadn't owned before. They must have been the contents of the box. We proceeded to retrieve and serve the table as required, waiting as they ate each course to top up wine or water glasses and to be there if they wanted anything. It all went off without a hitch, although I noticed that several of the guests on the side tables seemed to have rather over indulged in the drinks that were flowing freely. With the call, "Gentlemen, shall we retire?" the men all wandered to the library and the ladies to a lounge, all as planned. As I was delegated to the men, I still had no chance to talk to my wife about the sleeping arrangements. The next hour or so were worse than I could have imagined. I certainly had never allowed my guests to act the way these were, several of whom I could only describe as drunken louts. My hands were full most of the time with either glasses of port in one and brandy in the other, which the men could help themselves to as I walked round. When I wasn't doing that I had two trays with cheese nibbles on them. I got the definite impression that my having both hands occupied at the same time was deliberate, it allowed everyone else to use their hands pinching or running up and down my body. Even my breasts were not off limits. All Lord David did when he saw what was happening to me, was laugh. It was then that one of the men asked me where the toilets were on the first floor. He told me that there were a large number of ladies using the downstairs cloakroom, big as it was, and he thought it was better to use a different one. As it happened, I happened to notice a bathroom on the floor where His Lordships bedroom was, and I started to direct them. Then another man called David and asked him if I could be excused for a few minutes, which he agreed to. By then four men all wanted to be shown the way, and asked me to take them. For the first time, I used the main staircase to go up the one floor, with almost a tourist group following me. We got to the bathroom, when one of the men asked if I would help him. "With what?" I rather naively asked him. At that all four men bundled me across the hallway and into a bedroom opposite, with one placing his hand over my mouth, the others tried to remove my uniform by unzipping it, but in their rush they managed to rip it, someone else pulled my panties off, tearing those as well, they dragged me across the floor making holes in both my stockings, but they didn't attempt to remove my corset. I just managed to say, "Please don't, I'm a virgin." "Don't worry, you've two other places we can use," was the callous reply from one of them. For some time I was used by them, even degraded when they pushed an ornament from the room, into me, thinking it was funny. When I tried to fight or struggle I was slapped or punched. I don't know how long it went on, probably more than two hours, but eventually they just left me, filthy all over and bleeding from my rear. My mouth still held a lot of their semen, I had been forced to swallow much of it, although still more was all over me. I've heard men in 'my class of person', describe how they've used their staff, knowing they were untouchable, but I'd never really believed it. I think I may have passed out at some stage, the miracle was that my prosthetic vagina was still stuck and intact, so I supposed there must have been some sort of honour, in not trying to penetrate me there. When I was able to look round me, I saw that I was on a single bed in a small room and it was a mess. I tried to stand up, but a searing pain in my backside and legs, forced me onto my knees, when I heard raised voices in another bedroom I got out of the door into the corridor. I realised that it was His Lordship's room. I crawled along the corridor, leaving what was left of my uniform there and reached up to his door trying to stagger in, only succeeding in collapsing again. I heard a scream. "What the... What the hell are you doing coming in here?" his lordship demanded. "It's my hu... My maid Nancy." I saw that my wife was fully clothed, but looked flushed. "What's happened to the slut?" he wanted to know. "She's no slut you animal, she's been raped, call an ambulance and the police," she was shouting at him. "And take back your bribe, I don't take payments for sex, what do you think I am?" I was aware that she took off the bracelet, tried to undo the necklace, gave up and pulled it off, breaking it and throwing both items at him across the room. "I'm not calling anyone just because your maid decides to have sex with a guest," he stated quite calmly. "I'll get a driver to take her back to your place, she'll be fine in the morning." He rang a bell and shortly after Joan appeared. "Get a driver who hasn't been drinking to take this girl back to Mrs Mills house will you? And get something to clear up this mess." "Yes Your Lordship." She curtseyed and left, returning shortly with a carpet cleaning spray and some cloths, soon followed by Ben. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing and carried me down as far as the entrance hall. My wife followed and waited with me while he brought the car round, then she got in, with me laid out along the back seat. The next thing I remember was laying face down in my wife's bed and a man, who turned out to be a doctor, putting something soothing into my behind and on my bruises. The next thing I was waking up in full daylight, with my wife next to me, asking how I was feeling, and was I in any pain? In fact I had nothing more than a dull ache and a little burning sensation in my rear. "What happened?" she wanted to know. "Four men, they grabbed me. I told them I was a virgin, so they didn't try to take me there," I told her, wincing at the thought. "They had me both other ways though, said I was a spit roast, but I didn't understand. What happened with you?" "His so-called Lordship, welcomed me to the area, and gave me some expensive jewellery as a present. He thought it would get me into his bed, the prick. Mind you, at one stage I thought he was going to take his droit du seignior regardless of what I said, so your turning up was an escape for me at least." "Weren't you at least a little bit tempted?" I asked her. "I'm always a little bit tempted when I see a man like that, just as you must be when you see an attractive looking girl. The trouble is that I know the vast majority of men want to take command, be in charge of me, and I can't stand that. It's why I love you so much and your funny little hobby has become quite a turn on for me. I do love to order you about and especially to watch you demean yourself. I was really hot last night, seeing you have to serve all those vile people, curtseying your backside off, but I couldn't stand the thought even, of you really being hurt, my love." "What are we going to do about me being the maid?" We both knew that we could do nothing about my rape, it would mean everything coming out. "I've had an idea, darling." She brightened up. "We both want you to carry on being my maid most of the time, don't we? I will discretely tell my girl friends that I am a lesbian as well. Ben has already let it be known what you told him. I will say that I keep you here because you are my secret lesbian lover. That way, if at any time they catch us being over familiar, they will know why, and if either of us wants you in man-mode, we can simply go on holiday, or even buy another place and keep it secret. There you would be able to be a man without anyone knowing. The only thing is, all the time we are here, you have to be my maid. Wouldn't that be delicious for you, knowing that unless I decide to take you somewhere, you are stuck as a lowly maidservant? As a servant, don't forget, you can never be sure that I can't be swept off my feet by a prince, I don't want you to be over confident that you won't be dumped." "Yes Mistress," I replied, smiling back at her. The next day I was up and about, Becky insisted that the cleaning service continue for another week, even though our guests had gone home. But she also insisted that I stayed stuck in maid mode all the time, except for the odd couple of hours, now and then, when I joined her as a man. Three weeks later, Mr and Mrs Miles Carter moved into the old Dowager House on Welling's estate and became regular visitors to our house. Rachel actually insisted that I called her by her given name when we were in private, hinting that she knew I had a special relationship with Becky. The other two couples also became regular visitors, as did many others, including several others that lived locally. I, of course, being just a maid, was only fit to bow and scrape before them, but they all appreciated my cooking skills, even if I was thought a little eccentric, wearing my skimpy uniforms. Although gradually, as more people heard of my Mistress's 'secret' they began to think she was the eccentric one, not me. Over time, I was also allowed to buy some ordinary dresses, enabling Becky to take me to theatres and other entertainment, where everyone looked on me as Becky's friend. That only happened when I was due a reward, perhaps an extra special meal, or providing a maid service for one of her friends were examples. My wife refused to have anything more to do with Lord David Welling, much to the puzzlement of the local population. Eventually she told her friends what had happened, and they saw less of him as well. All that didn't reduce my servitude. Once her friends knew of a connection between myself and my Mistress, they did the most they could to break us up. To start with they asked that I could be used to serve at their houses, then they fixed a date for Becky with the best looking men around, deliberately throwing them at her in front of me. Then there was an evening with the Fosters. Also invited were the newly wed Carters and Sharon and Derek Parsons and a hunk, James, Arthur Fosters brother. Becky was never slow at flirting with the men offered to her, especially in front of me. It seemed that every time I entered the room with a fresh course, James made sure to whisper something in Becky's ear, which she found hilarious, laughing loudly. The main course included asparagus, and while I stood in attendance, James fed Becky a spear, which she held in her mouth, pointing at him. He took the invitation and closed his mouth round the other end and they nibbled away at the spear from each end, until their mouths met and they kissed. There was no question about it, I was jealous. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sharon watching for my reaction and she quickly downed what was left of the wine in her glass, ensuring that I had to break my gaze on my wife and top up her glass. By the time I got back to my station in the background, I was horrified to see that James had got down on his knees in front of Becky. I thought a nightmare had come true, she'd found a hunk and a submissive and she looked delighted, then she looked round and saw me fidgeting. She gave me a sly smile, then lifted his face and gave him a long, lingering and very deep kiss. At the end of the evening, James offered to give her a lift home and she gladly accepted. I knew that I wouldn't be going home until after the bulk of the dinner party mess had been cleared away, so I could only take my lift, as arranged with one of their staff, an hour after my wife left. When I got home, there was no sign of life, so I crept to the door of my Mistress's bedroom. "Stop lurking and come in, Nancy," I heard her voice and obeyed, frightened of what I might find. "Come here girl, I need you tonight, you'll have to wait until some other time for your turn. Acting so jealous, indeed, you'll have to give me extra service and you'll be Nancy for at least a month as punishment, now get your tongue working on me, and don't stop until I tell you." Sometimes it's idyllic to be stuck as a maid.