A Maid Made Maybe free porn video

A MAID MADE MAYBE JENNY'S STORY Have you ever woken up in the morning in an unfamiliar room or bed and wondered where you are for a few moments? It perhaps only lasts a few seconds, then going to bed the previous evening comes back to you and your life is back in equilibrium. That's what happened to me, the first part anyway but I waited for the inevitable second part it didn't come. I couldn't remember how I got into the bed I was then in. I told myself to wait and it would happen but it didn't. Then a vaguely familiar woman came into the room, smiled ate me then asked how I was feeling. "Where am I? What happened?" My voice was croaky. "Can't you remember?" she asked me. "You had a bad fever and you've been ill for days." I tried to remember. I wanted to ask who I was but the question seemed somehow stupid. As the woman talked on about how ill I'd been things started to come back, only very basic things like my name. My name is Jenny. It didn't seem a very big step but it was the first of many I hoped. Something more came to me. "Mistress!" I practically shouted. "I remember who I am, I'm so sorry Mistress that I didn't recognise you straight away." "That's alright Jenny, are you feeling well enough to get dressed?" "Oh yes Mistress I'm feeling so much better already, now I can remember things." "I'll help you, just in case you're a bit shaky." My Mistress was always strict, but she was kind and fair as well and she helped me on with my clothes. "What's the matter dear?" I suddenly felt miserable. "It's that nasty lump between my legs," I sobbed, "it's still there." "I know my dear girl," she smiled back at me, "you were supposed to have it taken off but you got sick. As soon as you have your strength back we'll get it done, now breathe out some more, we've got to get these laces tightened." Mistress had wrapped my corset round me and helped me settle my breasts in it. The half cups didn't come up as far as my nipples and although I was expecting to wear it, I couldn't understand how I had forgotten how to put it on. It was strange because I must have had to do it myself a thousand times before but I hadn't remembered to lift each of my heavy breasts into the cup. I recalled how I hated wearing my corset and high heels at first, but now I know that they do wonders for my posture and presentation. As I gripped the door frame my Mistress pulled with all her might I had to remember not to damage my nails. I love that they are nearly an inch longer that my fingertips, but I have to be very careful not to chip the bright red varnish off of them. I was a bit disappointed that I was only putting on my black uniform that morning, I really like my coloured ones although the six inch heels that go with those are more difficult than the black five inch with this one.. I double checked that my seams were straight on my sheer black stockings, of course they were, Mistress had put them on for me, I'm such an air head sometimes. I just had to check myself in the mirror once Mistress had finished, after all I can't directly see the area from the tops of my stockings up to the edge of my skirt, the petticoats make the skirt stand out almost horizontally and block my view. In the mirror I am perfect, I'm so happy. I check to make sure that the horrible growth of mine is tucked well back out of sight under my bright red panties that play peek-a-boo from under the froth of white net and lace of the petticoats. My make up is perfectly done with my lips the colour to match my nails and panties, I think my Mistress must have done it while I was asleep. I can't get over how good she is to me, she came all the way up the extra flight of stairs to the servants' quarters just to help me get ready. "Sorry Mistress," I have to apologise, "I'm still a little wobbly on my feet." I don't know why but my ankle nearly gave way then, as I walked towards the door, something didn't seem quite right. Still after being ill for so long I'm sure to have some effects lasting a bit longer. "It's lunchtime now so serve the Master and my lunch in the dining room. You don't have to make it, it's prepared and in the fridge Jenny." I still couldn't get over how good my Mistress is to me, everything she tells me is something good for me to know. I went and got the sandwiches and cold pepper soup out of the fridge and on to a silver platter and took them to the dining room. Mistress was already seated and the table laid, as I curtseyed to her, the Master came in and took his place so I curtseyed to him serving him first then Mistress. I noticed something familiar but somehow not familiar about him and I tried to think what it was. It had something to do with water but I had to give up, like I say I'm not very bright. "You look very nice today Jenny." He smiled and my legs went funny just like every time he compliments me. I wished my corset wasn't so tight, but if it makes him and my Mistress like me it's worth the discomfort. I was secretly pleased that they were both taking stolen glances, at my breasts almost bouncing out of my top and my rear when I turned. I must have still got 'it' these days, after all I must have been working for them for years, I think. It's funny that I don't remember much about being here, but then being a ditz I don't remember much about anything. "Are you looking forward to getting rid of that nasty thing between your lags Jenny?" Master asked me. "Oh yes Master," I told him, "I can't wait sir." "Sounds as if everything worked OK," Master commented to Mistress. "I can go ahead and with our little private enterprise scheme and we're going to make a fortune from this." I don't understand it when they talk to each other, they talk about things that are way over my head, that's for sure. I wondered when I could have that operation though, hopefully it won't be long because growths on the body always worried me in case they might spread. "What did you settle on in the end for subject one's breasts?" Master asked. "I eventually conceded and got him thirty eight double F's as you wanted." I perked up my ears as by coincidence I overheard someone say I had double F boobs, so I wondered who they were talking about. I didn't know why, but I didn't remember them pulling on my chest so much before and my nipples seem to be very tender as well. While I stood there as they ate their lunches, I wasn't sure then if I could remember anything about my boobs before I was ill or who said about the size of them. I must have had them before but thinking as hard as I could, I wasn't sure what I could remember exactly before I woke up this morning. I had to stop thinking, it was making my head hurt. "The more I think about what we've done the more I'm turned on by it," Mistress told Master, "you're absolutely certain that he won't remember anything aren't you?" He responded positively so then she asked, "Have you got time for a quick romp before you go back to the lab?" "Sure, why not?" Master replied to her, then he smiled at me. "Jenny, bring two coffees up to our bedroom, no need to wait for an answer after you knock. We'll be a bit busy but you can come in and wait." With that they practically ran up the stairs. I got their coffees and carried them upstairs on the tray and I worked out why he told me to go straight in, Mistress was making such a noise that I doubt they heard me knock anyway. I curtseyed and stood just inside the door as Master did what Mistress says he did best, pounding up and down into her while she moaned and cried out. I just knew that something was wrong about this but I couldn't say anything because I didn't know what, honestly I'm such a bimbo sometimes. Oh! Yes! Andrew... sorry Brian, Yes!" I remembered knowing that Mistress always has been very vocal during sex, but who was Andrew? I felt that it was someone that I ought to know, you know when you're trying to think of something and it's just at the back of your mind but it just won't come? Talking of which Master suddenly gave two or three faster and deeper pushes and they both seemed to finish at the same time. Master got off and went to have a shower while Mistress called me over. "Put the coffees on the Master's side table Jenny, and get down between my legs." I didn't know what she meant at first, but it was soon fairly obvious that she wanted me to wash her with my tongue. I seemed to think that this was somehow familiar, but I don't remember my tongue scooping out Master's juices before, it's not nice. I persevered and something most odd happened. The nasty lump between my legs got bigger. I jumped up and held my hand to the deformed thing, it was horribly wet at the end. "What's the matter Jenny?" Mistress asked me. "I think I need to go to the lavatory Mistress, the end of my nasty lump is all wet." At that I heard Master bellow with laughter coming out of the bathroom and Mistress joined in. I didn't think something like that was at all funny, I was worried. "We're going to have to arrange to get that thing cut off Jenny." The Master was talking to me but could hardly get the words out, he was still laughing so much. "Perhaps we can see about it next week." "Oh no, let's not Brian." Mistress looked at Master still smiling. "I think the whole thing is so funny I don't want it to be over." "Sadism isn't nearly so much fun when the victim doesn't know that he's the victim." Again Master was talking in ways I didn't understand. "Anyway you'll have an enjoyable time tonight, we've got John with Silvia and Mark with Catherine coming to dinner tonight, we could have him perform at the table if you like." "What did you have in mind?" "A surprise." That was all he would say and I liked surprises so even I was looking forward to it as well as Mistress. I spent the afternoon cleaning the Mistress's silver and laying the table for six people but I had difficulty concentrating because I was still trying to think why I knew the Master in some other context. At six o'clock Mistress told me that it was time to change into my uniform for the evening. I didn't think this was unusual, she had already told me that I normally wore a fancier one when they had guests, but she came up to my room with me with a bag and a leather suit hanger. I know that I've worn sexy uniforms before, it's just that I can't actually remember much about the clothes or even the events, but this was a new uniform and I thought that she'd bought the wrong size. All my uniforms are very short, but this blue one was even smaller. The skirt part was cut off and had a great froth of petticoats sewn into it so that it was held out horizontally and my panties were clear to see all the time. Worse than that was the top which was cut so low that the tops of my areolas were visible. "Oh Mistress!" I exclaimed. "Isn't this a bit indecent?" "Don't be a stick in the mud, Jenny. Tonight's party is to have sex as the theme and you've got to play your part. It isn't anything you haven't done before." "What do I have to do Mistress?" "Your main job is to get everyone in the right mood while they eat. You won't be serving the food tonight, you'll be serving in another way. Don't you remember dear girl?" I told her that I couldn't actually recall exactly what I did and could she remind me? "It's quite simple, you are the surprise under the table. You start with the first person sitting on my right and satisfy them with your cleaver mouth, then you work your way round the table until you get to me, then you start round again. Don't forget that you'll be punished if you spill any of the men's seeds, I don't want mess all over the carpet so swallow every drop. Surely you remember doing it the last time?" "You mean that I have to lick men as well as the women?" I wasn't happy. "Of course and you have to suck them as well, after all you've done it enough times before haven't you? Don't you remember that you have special shoes for it? You'll spend most of the night on your knees so you wear your very special shoes for it, you know the ones you always think are especially sexy." She laced shoes onto my feet that had such high heels that I had to stand on tip toes, so high in fact that she had to help me stand. "Oh Mistress, I don't think I can walk in these shoes," I told her. "But you've done it lots of times before Jenny." I struggled to take a couple of paces but I honestly couldn't remember having to cope with shoes like this before, my memory must still be really bad. It took ages to get back downstairs, then Mistress guided me under the dining room table to wait for the guests. I hated thinking what I was going to have to do, but the consolation was that I was no longer standing on my feet. I wished I could remember how I coped with doing this before, I didn't know what I was going to do but I didn't have a way out. I could hear sounds of joviality from time to time and three different waiters came in to fiddle with the table, then the diners came in. I got a terrible shock. The men were each naked from the waist down to their socks by the time they sat down, and the women pulled their dresses up to show they were missing their panties. I couldn't see the faces of the diners, the table cloth was so generous that it hung down and they each settled so that only their lower halves were visible to me. I wanted to get out from under the table and run but something was stopping me and I knew had to do as I was told. I moved between the first between the legs of the man to the right of Mistress. As I moved my nose up towards his penis I could smell his body in a way I never wanted to smell any man. There was no way I could remember previously doing that, but I licked the tip then decided that it was better to get it over with and took the whole of it into my mouth. He had been semi- hard before, but as I worked my head backwards and forwards it grew fatter and harder. At the moment he came I just knew that I'd never done this before. It was as much as I could do not to vomit and instantaneously I understood that I was being lied to. My memory had somehow been messed with and I was being told I had done things that I now knew I hadn't. Of course the longer term puzzle was recalling what exactly had happened, but the big immediate question was what I was going to do at that moment. Like small light bulbs turning on in quick succession, partial memories were coming back to me, not making sense, but illuminating nevertheless. I realised that I was physically unable to prevent being forced to do anything these six people wanted me to do. I quickly made the decision to carry on however distasteful, because what I needed more than anything at that time was a chance to think. I had to try to get more information on which I could form a plan of action. I moved on to the woman sitting next to the first man. Although it didn't seen right, I didn't so much mind satisfying the women round the table, it was the men I hated, but there was a curiosity. One woman held my head away from her groin, stoking my head for a few minutes, then pushed me on towards the next person without me having touched her. I couldn't understand why each time I came towards her she held me away. To take my mind off of my revolting activity under the table I took the opportunity to listen to their conversation, the most interesting part of which I heard on my second lap round. "So what do you think of subject one John?" Mistress asked the man I'd just serviced again, thank God they had finished their main course.. "I think we're onto a winner Brenda, and don't forget that at the moment we will be able to produce two like him every four weeks." "I've been re-working the economics of it," interjected Master, "don't forget that we're only looking for the really top end clients. They'll be mostly women but a few men might like to use our services for their wives, especially if they have pre-nups or something similar, in those cases our original projections of returns will be vast underestimate." "Catherine, you're very quiet," the remaining man spoke, "you're not still having trouble with the ethics side of the business, are you?" "No, I'm fine Mark, but you know how I worry," she replied. "There's no need to worry Catherine...Ooohh." The woman I was servicing at that moment was speaking but climaxed. "It's a win win situation. I mean look at how happy Jenny is." All these people were somehow familiar, I was sure I knew them but my memory just wasn't doing it's job. I had the two couples names, John was with Silvia and Mark was with Catherine, my Mistress was Brenda and Master, Brian. I had definitely met them all before but under very different circumstances. I had the feeling, nothing more than that, they were my equals or I was even held in some regard by them before. Although to me it seemed to take an age eventually the meal was finished, the men replaced their trousers and they all went off into the sitting room. Mistress was the last to leave. "Well done Jenny," she told me, "it all came back to you didn't it?" "It's started to Mistress." How did she know that my memory was coming back, I wondered. "You haven't lost any of the skill you have with your tongue and the men told me that you were every good at it as you were last time." She didn't know about my memory, she was still trying to persuade me that I'd done this sort of thing before. It had been a close shave, not telling her that I was starting to remember things, especially as there was something about her I found anomalous. "Now be a good maid dear, and go and give the cooks and waiters their tip. I promised them that they would have a turn with you once we had finished eating." To my horror I then had to go and kneel in the kitchen, sucking off each of the five men in turn. The only thing I could say about it was that I was now becoming immune to the humiliation and disgust at it all. After that I was told to go to the sitting room to see if there was anything else the guests wanted. For the first time I was able to see all their faces, that, in conjunction with my Master rang more bells in my brain but I had to concentrate more on being able to stand in the ridiculous shoes I was wearing. Fortunately I was dismissed for the night, so with a very false smile on my face I painfully made my way back up to my room, undress and go to bed. * * * * * ONE MONTH EARLIER Dr Andrew Simms was worried. The government were closing down the funding for his whole laboratory, built just to perform the experiments to study the effects of long term space exploration on the human psyche. He wasn't worried about the money, everything had been paid for long ago, but him and his team felt they were close to finding a system that would help the future of long journeys to the planets. The space agency just had altered their priorities and they felt that for decades the furthest they would be going would be to set up bases on the Moon. In the current economic climate, even small ambitions such as new satellites had trouble getting funding so his project was among the first to be cut. The only light was that they were given six months to wrap things up. His assistant Dr Brian Davidson, was more upset. His particular field was to find ways for astronauts to overcome the tedium and at the same time researching methods for updating their information while they were still travelling. His favoured method was to place the travellers into a form of suspended animation while at the same time ensuring that they were able to absorb the information sent to them. He felt he was on the verge of a breakthrough when the plug was pulled. "I know that Dr Smythe is upset about the closure," the unit's secretary Catherine told her boss, "but Dr Davidson is incandescent. I thought I ought to warn you that he blames you for it." "How on earth can he think it's my fault?" he asked her. "He says that you haven't got the experience, you were too young to run this department in the first place. Don't forget that he's ten years older than you and he thought he ought to have been given the job." Dr Simms was aware of the friction caused by his appointment five years ago but even though he was only twenty four at the time, his qualifications were extraordinary and he was what was technically known as a genius. Some years previously someone had tried to measure his IQ but had no confidence when measurement started to show in excess of one hundred and eighty five. A genius is usually assumed to be around one hundred and sixty. It wasn't surprising that he was swiftly given a project of some complexity to manage. What he wasn't told about was a meeting held that evening at the home of Dr Davidson between him and Dr Smythe, Catherine Johnson and their spouses and his wife who was upset at the loss of prestige that running the project carried. "Good evening everyone." Davidson decided to make the meeting at least a little formal. "I wanted to get you together to examine a business proposition I've been putting together." "We're scientists, not businessmen," Smythe grumbled, missing his skittles' night. "This isn't a normal business." Davidson paused for dramatic effect. "We will have only two customers per month and each will return a million pounds a time." After the chorus of disbelief calmed down they came up with questions and he outlined his business plan to them. "First of all, this unit and all it's equipment is to be made redundant, I've already put feelers out and the consensus is that the government would expect to have to more or less give away the land we're on because of the cost of clearing it. Remember that we've only got those two huge tanks of water, the generators, and one or two bits that are worth only scrap value or little more. All the laboratory side would have to be bulldozed and disposed of. The net result is we can buy the whole shooting match for just a few thousand. Alongside my work here I've been investigating a certain aspect of human male behaviour that I've been asked about by Andrew Simms' wife Brenda here. It would seem that he has a little quirk in his behaviour in that his hobby is wearing women's clothes. It appears that this type of man has a secret desire that can never be fulfilled and that is to be a submissive in every aspect of his life." "I've asked Andrew about this as soon as I discovered his little secret," Brenda Simms took over the explanation. "He admitted that was what he wanted but that his work here was too important for him to indulge himself. Apart from that he said that he would never indulge himself because of the cost to me. Well I've talked it over with Brian and we've come to the conclusion that there is a way we can make his dream come true." "I expect Mark and Silvia know about our work here, studying ways to stimulate astronauts on long space travel while keeping their bodily functions to a minimum to save energy." As Davidson mentioned this, John's wife and Catherine's husband nodded. "I have devised a method that would give Dr Simms and many men like him their dream in reality. We can used the sensory deprivation of the tanks to release their inner feelings without any form of guilt on their part. While the tanks are still operational as they are now, we could use Andrew as a test subject. Brenda and I know he would be only too willing if it wasn't for his conscience, worrying that he was in some way letting Brenda down. Assuming that all goes well with him, we can offer the same service to other men with his leanings. During the course of researching these men, I have discovered that many wealthy and powerful ones would love to follow the same course. I've already spoken to six very rich wives and ascertained that their husbands would be candidates at the prices I've mentioned and they are willing to sign up. That means that if our first test is successful the following three months work will net us each a million pounds and there is no reason to think that it would end there. The reason that I've invited spouses is that the whole system needs twenty four hour monitoring. I propose that we all take turns with this and keeping it in the family, so to speak, ensures the confidentiality that is vital. We need to work in pairs for eight hour shifts every day and I propose that between each batch of customers we take a month off. The gross return would therefore be twelve million pounds per annum with very little outlay in expenses." Everyone sat there a little shocked at his suggestions but it was Catherine that came up with the only objection. "Are you suggesting that this is done to people without their knowledge or specific consent?" she asked. "We know that this is their secret desire," Brenda interjected, "the only problem is divorcing them from their sense of duty and the worry of their new appearance to their contemporaries, this is all we would be doing. We would do them the greatest favour imaginable." "How would it work?" asked Catherine's husband Mark Johnson. "The subject is immersed in the tank of body temperature water in a thickly padded suit," Davidson explained, "suspended on expanding straps. His mask is blacked out and his ears plugged so that he has almost no sensory response to anything. He is fed and other functions carried out through tubes. After seven days of this nothing, for another three weeks he is bombarded with messages that reinforce the desire for the lifestyle he wants. By the time he comes out all his inhibitions are gone." "It sounds horrific to me," Catherine worried. "But it's exactly what he wants," replied Brenda. "You haven't seen him agonising about dressing up, it would grant him peace of mind doing what he wants to do." All objections dealt with, the three men followed Brenda home in Davidson's car and waited outside. "How did your meeting go?" Andrew asked his wife, he knew she was a keen member of the Women's Institute and went to meetings twice a week. What he didn't know was that she had never been a member of that august body and her twice weekly disappearances were to meet up with the man she was having an affair with, Dr Brian Davidson. "Oh you know," she replied, "the usual stuff. Will you join me in a cocoa before you go to bed?" He agreed and it was only fifteen minutes later the three men were carrying him out to the car and en route to the unit. It took around forty minutes to get the man, who had never worn women's clothes in his life, stripped then dressed in the sensory deprivation suit and lowered into the tank. "What did he say when you saw him?" Catherine asked her husband when he finally got home. "Nothing much," Mark responded. "I think he was pleased though when we explained what was going to happen." Mark had no intention of letting his wife bring up her so called moral objections again. All he could think of was leaving his boring underpaid job and becoming a millionaire. Four weeks later he was taken on the return journey, this time in a purpose made private ambulance that the consortium of the three couples had agreed would make the whole operation more prestigious with paying customers. The vehicle made a short diversion to a small clinic where the passenger received breast augmentation to increase substantially his budding breasts caused by the hormone supplement given to him through his feeding tube for the four weeks. The following week they were all invited over to the Simms house for dinner and to try out their first test subject. "For the sake of scientific research and the future of our commercial venture," Davidson told them, "we must push our first subject to the absolute maximum, to ensure that all his previous social barriers have been broken. He must be given the opportunity to live his life as he wants without the normal social limits." Catherine was uncertain that what had been suggested was inside her social barriers. She didn't want to take part in what amounted to a public sex orgy, even if the subject couldn't see her face. When it came to her turn with the new maid, she just pretended that she had used him to the others, but actually passed on what she thought of as a degrading experience for both parties involved. As a separate matter of concern she had noticed how close Davidson had got to her boss's wife and after that dinner she knew that the two of them were lovers. To test her theory she persuaded her husband to make a suggestion in such a way that he made it sound as if it was coming from him. "To test the subject to the maximum," he mentioned, once they were back in the sitting room, "surely the maid should be run through her paces in other environments, in other words, I propose that John and Silvia and Catherine and I try her out in our own homes. That way we can be sure of having completely removed any social niceties that she may have had before the conversion." Of course John strongly, and Silvia with less enthusiasm, agreed that would be the final proof of the process. In the face of this Brenda Simms and Brian Davidson had to agree and it was arranged that Mark would collect Jenny the next day at noon. * * * * * RETURN TO JENNY'S STORY When I woke the next morning I was filled with nausea at what I had done the previous night. I lay there trying to make sense of the scraps of memory I had floating around in my head then decided that I couldn't. Something told me that I had to get up and make breakfast for Master and Mistress which I did, finding a note in the kitchen to say that I should serve them the meal in bed at nine o'clock. Another strange thought hit me when I saw them both sit up naked and smile at me. Again, no real idea of exactly what was wrong, but something definitely was. Once they had eaten and I had cleared the debris away I got on with cleaning the sitting room then moved on to the dining room. I was interrupted there by Mistress. "You are going on a short break today Jenny," Mistress told me, "you remember the nice couple from last night, Mr and Mrs Johnson? They're going to have you look after them, it's only for two days girl, don't look so worried." I think she added the last bit when she saw my look of distaste at the thought of the service I provided the night before. Mistress had already packed the clothes I'd need in a suitcase and a hanging clothes' bag, so when they called just before lunch all I had to do was to walk out to their car with them. It wasn't a long drive to their house and his quarters he found surprisingly nice, just a normal home's spare fourth bedroom. Mistress Catherine told me that my temporary Master had to return to work for the afternoon, so we were left alone. "Are you happy?" she asked me. "It's not my place to be happy, Mistress," I replied, thinking what a strange question it was. "What can you remember of being young, err...Jenny?" I though carefully for a moment then decided the question was too complicated. "I'm not sure what you mean Mistress." "When you were young, did you play with your friends?" "I must have done Mistress, all children play with friends." "Tell me about one of them." I racked my brains and slowly a vague picture of one of them emerged. "James." I was so delighted when I remembered. "James was one, we did nearly everything together. I can remember climbing the trees in the orchard next to his house." "What were you wearing when you did that?" I thought longer and pictures were starting to come to me, then my head started to ache. "I'm sorry Mistress, I can't remember." "Don't worry about it for a minute." She stood up and took my hand. "Let's go down to the kitchen and have some lunch." As we sat drinking coffee after our light meal I wondered why this Mistress was helping me. After all it was my job to get the meal and serve her but she did most of it and we both sat down together to eat at the same time. Suddenly she broke into my thoughts. "Can you remember anything about water tanks?" My immediate thought was that it was a strange question, because it was one of the memories that I kept getting in bits. "I'm not sure Mistress, I don't know what has happened to my memory since I was ill. I keep getting feelings that I know something that doesn't tie in with what I really know. I know you, but I don't know where from. Does that make any sense Mistress?" "Yes it does." She looked into my eyes. "Tonight I'm going to give my husband something to make him sleep and we'll have a chat about those memories. Would you like that?" "Mistress I'm just a maid, why are you talking to me like this?" I had to ask. "You'll find out tonight, but don't tell anyone else about it, alright?" I agreed and between us we started to prepare the evening meal. It wasn't complicated but Mistress insisted on helping. After that I suggested that my new Mistress give me some cleaning jobs, or perhaps she had some ironing to do. Mistress insisted that I just sit down with her and we chat. I served dinner when the Master came home. "Hop under the table and repeat for me what you did last night Jenny." He told me. "No." Mistress was so sharp it made me jump. Then she told him. "If you want to carry on with your perverted games, you can leave this house Mark. I won't stand for it here." I found the whole exchange most confusing but at that moment I realised that this Mistress must have been the woman that wouldn't have me lick her the previous night. After they had eaten they went to the sitting room, Master with a brandy and I spent some time cleaning the dining room and kitchen. In a while Mistress found me and asked me to help take her husband to bed. Between the two of us we managed to get the man upstairs and out of his clothes. He seemed quite peaceful so we left him asleep and returned to the living room. "Now tell me what you can remember about your life." Mistress asked me, taking my hand and sitting me down on the sofa next to her. I realised that I couldn't remember more than snatches and I told Mistress so. "Now listen to me carefully," she told me, "I want you to answer some questions I'm going to ask immediately and without thinking, can you do that?" I told her I would do my best. "Quickly tell me what E=mc( is?" "Energy equals mass times the speed of light in metres per second squared." I looked at her in amazement, not having the slightest idea where that came from. "What's the name of Catherine's boss at work?" "Me, Andrew Simms." I was still thinking about my answer to the first question when she asked the second and the words were spoken by me before I really thought about the question. "What's happening to me?" I asked, feeling very frightened. "I'll try to explain, Andrew." She took a deep breath. "All the people round the table last night decided that you wanted to be a maid, with no worries other than how to clean and cook. I wanted to discuss this with you before it was done, but I was persuaded that it was what you wanted, now I want to help you to get your memory back. I was worried that it was gone forever, but your answers at lunchtime proved to me it wasn't. Do you remember being dressed in a neoprene suit? Can you think about a rubber smell?" I wasn't sure. "What about before that, did you have a bedtime drink?" "Cocoa!" I exclaimed as I remembered. "My wife gave me cocoa.... My wife, I have a wife! But I've got breasts!" "Don't worry about them Andrew, they're mostly implants only done a few days ago so they can be removed if you want. Now, what else can you remember?" What else indeed. It was like a dam opening and a flood of them came back so quickly that I started to feel sick. "I took a small precaution," Catherine explained. "I couldn't get over that you weren't going to give your specific permission for what was being done to you. My husband Mark is a lazy so and so, and whenever it was our turn to monitor your progress, it took four weeks by the way, I let him sleep, or go to the pub, sometimes left him playing on his computer at home. Anyway I was alone with you and I interrupted the voice that was conditioning you to give you another instruction. I told you many times over that whatever you were told, if someone asked you the meaning of Einstein's equation you would remember everything. Now the first thing I need to know is if you ever wanted to be a woman?" I replied that I had nothing against women, but I'd never given it a thought. "What about when you dressed in women's clothes?" I smiled and told her that before now I'd never worn an item of women's clothes in my life. She was incredulous and asked me to confirm that, as it was so important. "I promise you that if you have I would never breath a word of it to anyone," she told me. I told her that if I had I would tell her, mainly because nowadays I didn't think it was that much of a stigma, any sexual variations in people are well protected from discrimination by law. If I had ever dressed like that I would tell her, but I honestly hadn't. She outlined the scheme proposed by Brian Davidson and the reason given that I would make an ideal first subject. "But why would anyone think that I was a cross dresser?" I asked. "Your wife and Dr Davidson told us you did." "It was an excuse for them to have an affair and get me out of the picture." I stated the obvious as though it was the solution to the greatest mystery on earth. "What do we do now?" "For a genius you are sometimes very slow on the uptake aren't you?" she laughed. "At eight tomorrow morning we go to see a solicitor. We have to leave that early to avoid any complications if Mark is awake, but they probably won't open until nine so we can get some breakfast out." "What about my clothes, I feel pretty stupid in this stripper's costume," I asked. Catherine took me upstairs and fitted me out with clothes of hers that I could borrow, a loose fitting top because I had a bigger bust that her, but keeping my own shoes because none of hers were big enough for me. We both went to bed, her in another spare room so that she didn't wake her husband when she got up and we each set an alarm. Catherine wrote Mark a note saying she was taking me shopping first thing. By eight the next morning we crept out of the house and set off in Catherine's car to the nearby city. She had already researched the best lawyers to employ and shortly after nine we were sat on front of the solicitor Michael (Mike) Brown going through a short version of the story. He called the police and arranged for Catherine and me each to give separate statements for both him and the police to use. Of course I was unconscious a lot of the time but she was able to supply the names and address of the surgeons used to both supply my hormones and perform the breast implants. She also arranged with the same lawyer to divorce for her from her husband. It all took a long time so Catherine booked us into a hotel for that night but by ten the next morning, just after we finished breakfast, the police informed us that the five miscreants and the surgical staff were all in custody. Their entrance was a tie with the arrival of Mike to tell me that I could go home and that an injunction had been placed on the others to stay away from me. First stop though had to be the City Hospital, where I saw a surgeon to find out about the removal of my implants and to get a report on how much I had been effected by the hormones I had been given. The answer common to both those problems was the same in effect, the implants could be removed together with the female breast cells that had developed by the hormone treatment and the results themselves would not therefore be permanent. A temporary period of low dose of testosterone was recommended to get my body back into a natural equilibrium. Photographs were taken of my breasts to accompany the reports for police and lawyer. In view of her own personal situation I invited her to stay with me in my own home in a guest bedroom, I couldn't face my marital bed, so I used another guest room myself. I had no intention of returning to the so-called 'Servant's Quarters' named by my wife. Two embarrassing episodes had to follow, the first was to explain to the civil servants in London what had happened at the unit that they oversaw and that the final report would be delayed. I also pointed out that it was unlikely that the buyer they had lined up for the site, would go ahead with the purchase. The second was the discovery that I had almost no clothes that would fit me until I could have the remedial operation. I had to go out with Catherine to buy a temporary collection of clothes. I tried to get all male outfits, but the weather was too hot for thick clothes so in the end I had to admit defeat and buy some dresses and skirt/blouse combinations. Work occupied much of the time for both of us for the following few weeks, we were the only staff now working on the project so we had more than enough to do, finalising reports and collating the ones already done. By the time it was all wound down three months had passed, we were both divorced, Smythe and Davidson had been dismissed and Catherine was seventy per cent owner of her house which had just been sold. My divorce settlement was held over for the result of my ex-wife's criminal trial which shortly followed. She was jailed for six years, Davidson for seven, Smythe for three, the spouses, Silvia and Mark twenty four months each. The two surgeons at the clinic got struck off and the one who did the operation got three years. As far as my financial affaires were concerned, I effectively got ninety five percent of the marital assets, very substantial payments from both Davidson and the clinic and lesser payments from Smythe and his wife, and received the balance of the proceeds from the sale of Catherine and Marks house. The last item didn't harm Catherine of course, it just left her husband penniless. Catherine and I became very much more close than we had ever been. Eighteen months after this was all settled we got married. Apart from being left rather well off there was one other hangover of the affair. I had to confess to Catherine that after getting used to them, I became rather addicted to occasionally cross dressing. I was quick to emphasise to her that I didn't want to become a full time maid, at which we both laughed, but I explained that I found women's wear relaxing. She had no problem with having a girlfriend as well as a husband and we spent many happy hours shopping together. I had the implants removed, but asked for my breast growth to be left. I could happily wear a large 'A' or small 'B' cup bra, but hide my extra bits if I ever needed to. When I was interviewed for my next project I told the panel about my cross dressing and they took me on anyway, saying that I could turn up for work dressed however I wanted. It was no more than I expected.