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The Contract I had done it. After months of dreaming about it, after weeks of practicing how to do it, I had finally gathered the nerve to bring up the subject. It had taken so much courage, so much commitment to speak of it out loud. And now, I was being asked to repeat myself. "You what?" My wife Gloria was saying. "You want to dress in what?" I could not repeat myself. I lacked the conviction, so I just sat there at the kitchen table, fidgeting with a napkin, looking at my hands. "Tell me," Gloria said, a little louder this time. "What did you say?" "It's...not important," I said, my vice barely above a whisper. "Don't make me ask you again," Gloria said. "Julian, I swear ..." "I just suggested that while I'm doing the morning chores that you let me wear a maid's dress," I said. "Just in the mornings. That's all. You'll never see it. I'll wear it while I make the beds, and while I wash the dishes and while I vacuum. I do those things anyway." "So you want to prance around my house in a maid's dress, is that it?" Gloria said. "You want to be a fag and blow the Fed Ex guy? You want to be a girly boy and suck sailors for money?" "No, Gloria." I said. "It's nothing like that. I'm not gay. I've never cheated on you with anyone. I just thought it would be fun to try it out. Forget I brought it up." "How do you forget that you're married to a fairy?" Gloria said. "How long have you been thinking about this?" "A little while," I said. "A few months. I ... I read these maid stories online, and since I do my morning chores, I thought about doing them in a maid's uniform. I didn't see the harm. I didn't know it would piss you off." "Well, it does. If you flounce around like a drag queen on the runway, and pretty soon, that's all you're doing. That shit takes over your life. Don't you know that?" "It won't. It's two hours a day, tops, and you won't even be here. The house will be clean. You won't have to see a thing." "But I'll know, Julian," she said. "Won't I?" "Again, please forget I brought it up. Obviously, I shouldn't have." "Have you worn dresses before?" she said. "Have you worn my dresses?" "No, Gloria. Not your dresses. But when I was a teenager, I played some for a little while." "My God. You're a lifer." I didn't say anything. I was waiting for the storm to pass, and we could just be another couple. "You really want this?" she said. "Yes, ma'am," I said. She grinned. "Ma'am, huh. So what happens if I have to come home for something in mid-morning? What if I forget my purse? Am I going to see you all dolled up?" "What do you want to happen?" I said. "If you have to come home, you can call me and I'll change. Or I can clean up a different room. Or you can do your work and I'll stay out the way." Her eyes narrowed. She considered it. "It would be nice to have a maid," she said pensively. "I'm yours to command," I said. She glared at me. "We can try it," she finally said. "I'll draw up a six-month contract. It will stipulate what hours you may dress. I'm thinking from 10 til noon. It will outline what your chores will be. It will state that you are to vanish from the common areas if I'm home while you're dressed. I don't want to see you, and I don't want to talk about your day. Got it? You need to be invisible to me. I don't want to see my husband in a dress." "No, ma'am." "I like the ma'am," she said. "I think I want you to refer to me that way if we ever cross paths. Or Mrs. Daniels. I don't want you dressed at all in the afternoon or evening hours. Is that clear? We don't talk about it. We don't let it affect our lives. I'm merely letting this shit happen when I'm not here." I smiled at her. "That's enough for me," I said. But is life ever enough? * * Om Monday morning I got up early with Gloria. I didn't have to be at work until late afternoon (I worked on the switchboard of a computer company), but I couldn't sleep with my first day ahead of me. Gloria had made herself coffee, and I sat at the table to have a conversation. "Can you pick up my dry cleaning today?" she said. "Sure," I said. "What time?" "It should be done by 3," she said, smirking. Don't worry. You'll be out of your frillies by then, if that's what you're worried about." "I was just asking," I said. She shook her head. She grabbed her purse and started toward the door. "I'm not crazy about this agreement, Julian," she said. "I don't like having a transvestite for a husband. So please get this out of your system quickly, won't you? Now, I realize you have some shopping to do. You have to buy a uniform, maybe two. You have to get some shoes. Some hose . Some makeup. So you won't dress today, after all." "Makeup?" I said. "It's just two hours a day." "I expect my maid to look nice," Gloria said. "Even if I"m not going to see her. Now, I'll see you at six. I'll have your contract ready." "Gloria, I don't need a contract," I said. "I'll do what we agreed I would do." "Julian, I need the contract," she said. "At the bank, we have contracts for everything. It protects both parties." "If that's what you want..." She smiled. "It is, sissy boy. You would hate me to have to sue pants off of you. Everyone would see your panties." She was laughing as she left for work. For me, the day was a blur of color and fabric. At the uniform sore, I picked up two maid's dresses -- one pink and one black. The pink one was on sale. I held it up against me to see if it would fit. "You want to try that on," a saleswoman asked. I blushed. "I...I'm okay," I said. "Go on," we have a fitting room in the corner. "A lots of guys buy our maid's stuff. I've seen your kind before." I tried on the pink one. It fit. I didn't try on the black. As I moved toward the cash register, I passed a display with underwear. I picked up four pairs of panties and three bras. I moved to the shoes. They had a darling heel in red, but I thought the black ones would be more functional. I picked out some hose. They had breast forms, but I didn't know if I was going to be dressed long enough each day to justify the cost. Still, they were pretty. I dropped them in the basket. I decided against a wig or a shaping girdle. I should keep it simple, I thought. I smiled as the cashier rang them up. This was really going to happen. For two hours a day, I was going to be a maid. "Hey, mister," the sales clerk said, louder than she had to. "The tits you bought are different sizes. You want to exchange one of them." Every eye in the store was on me. There was a ripple of laughter. It was my first humiliation. It wouldn't be the last. * * I got home ar 12:30 o.m. I thought about fudging the time so I could fully try on my outfits, but I had made a promise. Even though I hadn't signed the contract yet, we had agreed. I put the clothes into a closet. I did the dishes. I vacuumed the house. I stripped the beds and put on fresh sheets. I made it up. A few years ago, this had been my first chore. When I was shifted to an evening schedule, I had all sorts of free time in the mornings, and making the bed seemed like an easy way to contribute to the house. Gloria had appreciated it. After that, I started doing the dishes, and I would vacuum the floors. None of it was real difficult. But I started to imagine myself as a maid. Eventually, I found that the internet was crammed full of maid fiction. It's quite a popular genre. The afternoon passed, and it was time for get ready for work. I realized I could wear a pair of panties if I wanted -- Gloria had no idea how many pairs I had bought. But again, they stayed in the drawer. I had promised. When I got off, just after midnight, I drove home. Gloria was waiting on me. She had our contract in her hand. "So, how did the new clothes fit, sissy boy?" she said. "I don't know," I said. "I got back too late to try them on. I'll try tomorrow morning." "Oh, that's silly. A girl has to try on a new dress. But it's good you didn't. I can probably trust you to pay attention to the contract." "Yes, Ma'am." "I'm going to go to bed now, Julian," she said. "Did you buy a nightgown?" I flushed. "No, ma'am," I said. "With the hours I'm allowed to dress, I have no use of a nightgown." "Pity," she said. "You'd like them. They feel great. Now, tomorrow, I'll wait two hard boiled eggs and bacon for breakfast." I just looked at her. "Oh, wait. That's too early for my maid, isn't it? She won't be at work yet." "Ma'am? If you want, I'll be happy make your breakfast," I said. "No, it wouldn't be right, would it. Still, I do like to eat in the mornings." She was quiet for a minute. "Julian," she said. "Julie, if you'd prefer. Why don't we amend the contract? Just this once. We can expand the weekday hours from seven until noon. That will give you more girl time, and I'll get my eggs. Is that agreeable?" I thought quickly. That would mean getting up much easier than I usually did. But I did like the idea of five hours a day instead of just two working as maid. I nodded. "If you wish, ma'am," I said. "But that way, you'd see me in the mornings. I didn't think you wanted to see me." "Well, I guess I can see if I can live with seeing you before breakfast.Your sissy image is already stamped on my brain." "Sorry, ma'am," I said. "I'm doing you a favor, Julie," she said. I noticed that was the second time she had called me by a feminine name. "I know, ma'am," I said. "Well, don't disappoint me. I want you dressed, made up and ready to roll. Breakfast is at seven." "Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'll be ready." * * All over the world, 5:45 a.m. is a vicious, ugly time of day. But the next morning, I was wide awake. It was my first day as Julie the maid, and I was raring to go. I had shaved my legs the night before. Now, I put on a pair of black panties with ruffles and a matching bra. I slipped my breast forms inside and posed in front of the mirror. I loved it. I stepped into my black maids dress. I hiked up the petticoats, then stepped into my heels. It felt delicious. I had dressed a few times over the years, but this was better. This was so girly. I carefully applied makeup, because I knew I wasn't good at it. I brushed my longish hair; it would still need to grow out some. I wished I had earrings. Eventually, I would need something to slim my waist, But for now, it was my best morning. I posed in front of the mirror. There was the girl I had wanted to release. She was short and cute, and you had to look hard to see the man underneath. I practiced a curtsy. I giggled. I blew myself a kiss. I went to the kitchen, and I started the coffee. I got eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator. I made toast. Gloria walked into the room. She smiled at me and nodded toward the coffee. "Can I have some of that?" She said. "Please sit down, ma'am," I said. I curtsied. I hurried to get her coffee. "You look good as a maid," she said. "I don't know what I was fighting it for. You have a. cute little butt." "Thank you, ma'am," I said. "I've been thinking," she said. "I think you should call me Miss Gloria." "But. you're married," I said. Miss Gloria laughed. "To my maid? I don't think the state of Ohio recognizes Mistress-Maid marriages, I could be wrong. But I want to be a miss. Okay? If you get to be a girl, I get to be a miss. Now, Julie. Could you get me some fruit? Maybe pineapple. "Certainly, Miss Gloria." "I'll get the new contract made up today, Julie," she said. "And I'll tell you what. After you finish your chores, I think you should go get a couple of more uniforms. Maybe different colors. How many bras and panties did you buy?" "Three bras. Four panties." "Get enough underwear for seven days," she said. "That way, you just have to wash them out once a week. And you'll need more shoes." I nodded. "I almost bought a wig yesterday..." Miss Gloria shook her head. "Your hair is almost long enough," she said. "Besides, I like that the shopkeepers know you're a sissy boy. It amuses me." "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Julie ... you can tell me if you're gay. You know that, right?" "Ma'am, I'm not. I swear." Miss Gloria shrugged. "Either way, there's still plenty of dick to around, I guess," she said laughing. But I didn't find it funny. * * It was Friday, the end of the week. Miss Gloria was late for work. She was in a hurry. "Julie," she said. "I'm going to need your help today. I have two employees coming over for lunch. Could you make lunch? Nothing fancy. Sandwiches and salad. Iced tea. That sort of thing. Otherwise, we'll have to go out, and that means crowds and waiting for our food." I was silent. "Is that a problem?" She said. "No, ma'am," I said. "I'll have it ready." I didn't want to be seen by outsiders. Miss Gloria looked me, sensing something was wrong. Then she realized what it was. "Shit, I did it again," she said. "That's past quitting time, isn't it?" "I'll do it," I said. "It isn't a problem." "You shouldn't have to do it. You're a maid working defined hours." "I don't mind," I said. She hesitated. "Tell you what. You do it for me this time, and I'l make it worth your while. I'll buy you that wig. Or a butt plug if you'd rather have it. And you can wear nightgowns if you want." I blushed. "The nightgowns will be fine." "Look, this may happen from time to time. I'll adjust your contract again.You'll work until 2 p.m. instead of noon. Is that okay?" "As you wish, ma'am." "Yeah, that'll work. And if we don't have guests for lunch, well, you can scrub the bathrooms. Deal" I nodded, but I didn't want to do anyone's bathroom work. Still, if that's what was needed. A good sissy always gets the cleaning done. I smiled. I realized I had thought of myself as "a good sissy." Miss Gloria called me a sissy often, but I hadn't used it as a self- description before. Still, wasn't I? I was wearing a blue maid's dress and blue heels and lipstick and mascara. I had on panties and a bra and breast forms and hose. "Julie?" Miss Gloria was talking again. "You really are a Godsend. I don't know how I managed without you. I love having a maid." "I love being your maid," I said. She smiled. "I have to go to work now, baby," she said. "But you have a great morning. Be pretty. You never know when the right guy will knock at your door." I blushed. I started to make my usual protest that I wasn't gay, but I stopped myself. It was no use arguing about it again. * * The next day, I spent the morning mincing around the apartment. I knew I needed to vacuum, but the clothes were so sensual that I couldn't leave the mirror. Finally, at about 11:30 a.m., I started to vacuum. But I didn't finish by noon. No problem, I thought. I'd just work late. But as luck would have it, Gloria picked that day to forget her phone. She entered the apartment, and she heard the vacuum cleaner. She looked at her watch and scowled. "Sissy!" she said, loudly. "Sissy, why aren't you done. It's past noon." I looked at her. "I'm sorry, miss," I said. "I ... I'm running late." She sighed. "Have you been touching yourself?" "Um, no ma'am." "The truth, Julie," she said. "Well, a little. But I didn't come." "Julie, I am not happy," she said. "Did we put a punishment clause in the contract? Did we? I'm going to have to punish you, girl." My eyes widened. We had just started this role play, and she was going to punish me? How? By making me stand in the corner? By making me tongue her? No, it wasn't either of those. She spanked me. I know, I know. It's pretty embarrassing for a grown man to be spanked by his waif of a wife. But her will was so much stronger than mine. She pulled down my panties, and she reddened my ass. Twenty spanks, right on my cheeks. I was squirming and crying. She glared at me, as if to suggest it was more than my transgressions that had pissed her off. It was the mere fact I was in a dress and that I liked it. "Julie," she said. "This is life. This isn't fun and games. If you fuck up, you pay for it. Do you understand." "Yes...yes, ma'am," I said, rubbing my bottom. "Good Next time, we'll use a cane. I'm going to buy one. I'm going to buy something else to keep your hands away from pee-wee. You're my girl, now. You're going to be a good girl." I sniffled. I nodded. But the pain did not ebb. * * * On Saturday morning, Gloria wanted to take a ride. It wasn't a day for me to dress, so I climbed into the car in a t-shirt and shorts. They felt strange on me, to tell you the truth. We turned out of the driveway, and she began to drive toward West Cincinnati. I looked out the window as we drove. We passed a woman in a blue dress. A woman in a teal top. A woman in a lavender sundress. I had noticed lately that every time I was outside, I was paying attention to women's fashions. Their outfits. Their shoes. Their hairstyles. I had only two dresses that weren't maid's uniforms. I made a vow to get more. We pulled into a strip mall across from McDonald's. The sign read "Flesh and Fantasies." I had heard of the place. It was a "naughty" shop, a place where a couple went if they wanted to buy handcuffs or dildos. "Why are we here?" I asked Miss Gloria. "It's time for a contract bonus," Miss Gloria said. "I want to get you a couple of toys." We walked in, and I was amazed at the displays. Leather corsets and masks, collars and leashes, lotions and foams. Shackles on the wall. Miss Gloria walked up the saleswoman and introduced herself. "I'm looking for that combination you have on sale," Miss Gloria said. "The one with the cage and the butt plug. "Ah, yes. The Prison and Pleasure Package," the saleswoman said. "I'm Amber. Come this way." Amber unlocked the case, and she pulled various items and put them on top. Other customers would elbow each other and point out our items. "Now, what size cage do you think?" "Oh, a very small one," Miss Gloria said. "My sissy here isn't very big ... That pink one looks fun." "It is. You need to take it off for cleaning every few days, but except for that, you can keep the sissy caged for weeks at a time. It's the ultimate in control. She'll be as meek as a lamb in this thing. It'll change her whole personality." Amber took the item. Then she moved down, and opened a butt plug display. Again, she picked out a menacing looking pink one. "That one's five inches," Amber said. "We have bigger ones for when she's ready to move up." Amber looked at me and giggled. "I'l take them both. I'd also like to look at a cane, for punishment. And a penis gags. And a collar." "Done," Amber said. "You're very good to the sissy." "A weakness of mine," Miss Gloria said. "I like to reward the weakness in her." Miss Gloria was in her element. She bought the cage and a plug and a gag. She put a dildo in her cart, then took it out and put it back. She bought the collar and a leash that went with it. There was a short nightgown with "Mamma's Sissy" written in script across the front. She bought that, too. From under the counter, she bought a bottle of illegal Premarin. Titty juice. The whole time, I felt as if I was sinking. I had no balance, no control. Cage? Plug? Gag? Titties? How could I argue that I wasn't a sissy? On the drive back home, Gloria suddenly slapped her forehead. "Shit," she said. "What's the matter," I asked. "I forget we had a gathering tonight. Julie, I'm going to need you, okay. I need you to serve for a gathering we're having. I'll have your contract altered to include weekend work every now and then. I'm sorry." "It's no problem," I said. "The contract doesn't matter. If you need me, it's okay. But what kind of gathering?" "Oh, just a few people. We'll make burgers on the grill. Beer and soda. That sort of thing." "Okay," I nodded. But it wasn't "just a few people." It was our families. My mother and father. Gloria's mother and father. My brother Seth. Her sister Vanessa. Her brother Steven. Several cousins. It was a coming-out party or, in this case, a pushing-her-out party. It was designed to embarrass me as much as possible as fast as possible I moved through the crowds, shamefaced, wearing a maid's dress and high heels. There was a lot of staring. A lot of scowling. There were a few adjectives thrown at me, and not the good ones. My mother looked at me. "You're one of them?" she said. "You're the "pink" in the rainbow?" My father shook his head. "Son, I knew you weren't much of a man. But I thought you had a distance relationship to us. I can't wait to tell the guys at work that you're a fag." "I imagine they know already," my mom said. I moved through the crowd, passing out drinks. Some of the men seemed angry at me, as if I had betrayed the male race. Others just had an amused look at the freak in front of them. Helen, Gloria's mother, approached me. "You don't let these people get you down," she said. "Homosexuals belong just like everyone else. I'm happy you're comfortable with who you are, even if you are a fag. My son Steven is a fag, you know. Do you know him?" "I'm...I'm not gay," I said. But she was walking away. "Hey, it's okay," Steven said, walking up. "It's hard for all of us." "All of us?" "I'm gay, too," Steven said. "I'm the pink sheep of the family." "Well, I'm not gay." "Oh, come on, Julie. You're in a fucking dress. You have cocksucking lipstick on. You're in heels. If all of us gays in Cincinnati got together, we'd elect you queen." "I'm serious. I'm different, I admit. I like to wear this stuff. But I'm not gay." "Darling, you will be. Just wait. And it'll be great. Dicks fit in mouths for a reason, you know. You can swallow sperm for a reason. I've been with a dozen men, and I always go straight for the dick. They're fun." Miss Gloria approached us. "So, is this a gay conversation, or can I join in?" she said. "Did you kiss him yet, Julie?" "Of course not," I said. "She wanted to, though," Steven said. "But maybe not on the lips." "And you, little brother? Did you want to kiss my maid?" "Yeah, she's pretty," Steve said. "I wanted to kiss her back. And her front." Miss Gloria laughed. "Well, have at her. We'll keep it all in the family." Before I could object, Steven grabbed my head and pulled it to his. He kissed me hard, his tongue tracing my lips. He bent me over backwards, like in the old movies, and cupped my ass. I stood up, and straitened myself. I looked across the pool, and my parents were staring at us. Her parents, too. Their faces were a mixture of disgust and curiosity. How was I going to convince anyone I was straight after this? * * * Sunday were easy. Miss Gloria didn't wake up in time for breakfast, which meant there were no daily dishes. I couldn't run the vacuum cleaner yet, because it would wake her. And I wasn't on the clock, so I didn't even have to dress up. I was just in jeans and a t-shirt, sipping coffee and enjoying a lazy morning. Miss Gloria finally made it downstairs about 10. She looked at me and smiled. Then she frowned. "What is it?" I asked. "Well, you don't look quite right," she said. "It's your hair. We had it styled Saturday, remember?" "Sure I remember," I said. "Well, it looks too girly for your man clothes," Miss Gloria said. "You look like a gay man. I thought you said you weren't gay." "I'm not," I said. "Well, you coulda fooled me. I think you're going to have to start dressing on the weekends, too, Julie. Otherwise, you're sending a mixed message. We should put that in the contract, too No mixed messages. Dresses all the time." "Well, you know I like to dress. Should I put on my yellow dress now?" Miss Gloria nodded. "We're going to have to get you some more regular dresses.I'll deduct them from your pay." "Miss Gloria, I don't get paid." She giggled. "You get exactly what your contract says you get, girlie. Room and board. Clothes and makeup. It's a good deal for domestic help." I didn't say anything. "Besides, you can make some money tonight, if you want. I'm having a few people over." "Miss Gloria...do I know any of them?" I was thinking of the families last time we had people over. "Well, of course you do, Julie. You know most of them. Keith and Judy and Rock and Angie. Susan and Darnell and Becky and Randy and Keisha and Nick. Oh, and Sam. I don't think you know him. But hands off. That one's mine." I looked at her. Yours? "Anyway, I was hoping you could make some crab puffs and serve some cheese and crackers. And drinks, of course. Look, I'll make it right. I'll amend our contract again to include occasional weekend work." "Yes, ma'am," I said. I stood there for a minute. "Is something on your mind, Julie?" Gloria said. "Sam?" I asked. "Yes, Julie," she said, sighing. "Sam. I have a date okay? You're standing here like you're going on RuPaul'd show. Of course, I want a real man. I want to feel like a real woman again. That doesn't mean we'll have sex tonight. But we'll get there. Hell, you're more girl than boy these days. Soon, I'm going to need a cock. I'm sure you know the feeling. "No, ma'am," I managed. "Look, don't blame me for this," she said. "You were the one who abandoned your gender. You put on the panties and the bra and minced around the room in front of all of your family and friends. I'm just a woman who needs cock, and yours is locked away." "But ma'am. You locked it away." "Listen to you," she said. "Do you think a real man whines because a woman locked his penis away. Do you think Chuck Norris whines about it? Do you think LeBron James does? How about that big tight end for the Patriots? Does he whimper that his mean old wife has locked away his girl dick?" I was sick. Miss Gloria had been pent up since I asked to wear the maid's uniform. She was moving on physically, and she was moving on emotionally. We hadn't sex for days, and the last time we had it, all I did was lick her, She wanted a cock, and all I had was a lock. * * That night was the worst I had had. I was serving in my red maid's dress, and guys were pawing my ass every time I would lean over, which was a lot. Across the way, I could see Miss Gloria and Sam, their arms around each other's waists. They were presenting as a couple, laughing and touching, whispering and laughing. There was nothing I could do about it. I kept serving. I kept running drinks. I kept moving hands off my butt. The thing that made it worse was that a lot of the crowd knew me from my days as Gloria's husband. They laughed and pointed and made comments. They asked if I had had SRS yet (no), if I had a boyfriend yet (no), if was on hormones yet (no), if I was always in dresses (yes). They understood, they said. They supported the Pride Parade, they said. It was only later, in quiet moments when someone could speak privately to me, that three of them asked me to suck their cocks. I was moving through the living room when I heard a voice. "Can I have one of those?" I turned, and it was Sam. He reached onto my tray and pulled out a crab puff. He bit it, then he nodded. "Very nice," he said. "You're Julie?" "Yes, sir," I said. "I've heard all abut you, Julie," he said. "And I feel for you. It must be dreadful to want to wear panties so bad that you surrender your wife." "Sir...I didn't surrender her." "And yet, here she is with me. She seems very eager, Julie. Whatever should I do?" "Excuse me," I said, reddening. "I mean, should I take my big cock and jam into her like a spear. Impale her? Or should I start with her ass? Maybe she could suck my dick. Did she ever suck your little dick? Is she good at it? Does she swallow? Oh, well. I guess I'll find out, won't I?" I felt helpless. I was in high heels and a dress and makeup. What was I going to do? Hit him with my purse? "I mean, I don't want to move to fast," Sam kept going. "How long do you wait for sucking a dick? An hour? A day? Tell me, do you like that better than getting butt-fucked? Or do you like a guy on each end, making you feel all girly with their boy juice? Do you ever get out of that cage I hear Gloria bought you, or is your dickie locked away forever? Tell me, Julie: How long before you have them carve a pussy out of your dick? A month? A year?" Sam was laughing at me now. He saw his words wounded me, and he kept up the onslaught. His voice was quiet, and to an outsider, you might think we were having a nice conversation. But we weren't. He was setting new limits for my shame. "Tell me, sissy," he was saying. "When did you realize she was too much woman for you? When did you realize that. you'd rather have balls on the chin and lick a hairy asshole than be with a beautiful woman? Fags are like that. Now think about this: I'm going to fuck your wife. I'm going to spread her pussy, and I'm going to slide my cock into her. I'm going to get past any depth you ever reached, and I'm going spew sperm all over her. It's going to be great, and we're both going to cry out. Then we're going to do it again. Maybe again. "Now try to get that image out of your head, Nancy boy. Just try." He laughed. Then he turned and he walked away with the stride of a conqueror. And I felt like crying. I assume they had sex that night. They certainly had it soon after. Sam started staying the night. He took pride in showing me his dick as he lay in bed, as he got. up to shower. "Does that make you hungry, sissy boy?" he said. "See anything you want to swallow? * * It was Wednesday, and Miss Gloria was running out of clothes. "Damn it, Julie," she said. "I wish you did the laundry." "I could try to squeeze it in in the mornings," I said. "I really don't see where you have time," Miss Gloria said. "Between the beds and making breakfast and vacuuming. You need more hours, child. I think it's time to go back into the contract." I looked at her. Again? "Here's what I propose," she said. "We amend the contract to have you work until four in the afternoon. That way, you can wash and dry and fold and iron. It'll be fun. And I'll even pay you a stipend of $10 an hour. That's more than $100 a day. You be able to buy your own cock cage for that." She dangled her key so I could see it. "Maybe you can even buy your key. I think it's on sale for $5,000. That's a lot of laundry, isn't it?" She smiled. "Yes, ma'am," I said. My eyes remained on the floor. "Julie, what's wrong? You've seemed out of sorts all week long." "I'm okay, ma'am. I was upset at seeing you and Sam, but I'm okay now." "Well, I hope so. Because Sam isn't going anywhere. Julie, he's barbed wire and brick. He's hard and he's tough, but he's a man, and he knows how to make a woman sing. You gotta get yourself a guy like Sam." "Ma'am..." "I know. You're not gay. Blah, blah, blah. You keep saying that. But give it a chance. Kiss a dick. You really don't have much to make a pussy happy. Except for your tongue. I like your tongue. But there are a million lesbians who could do the same thing. You know?" "Ma'am...can I say something?" "You can," she said. "Ma'am, I just wanted to wear a dress for a couple of hours a day. That's all. I never meant for you to cuckold me. I never meant to end up with my penis in a cage, or with a plug in my butt, or with hormones in my chest. I never meant for you to take a lover. I'm wearing lipstick. I have on high heels. I wear bras. All of this has all gone too far and too fast." She looked at me. "Julie, when you climb on the roller-coaster, you don't get to say how fast it goes. You just hang on and enjoy the ride. I never bought you a dress you didn't wear. You shoved the plug right up your ass and made it vibrate. You watched as I snapped the lock shut on your dick. You didn't say no to any of it. So don't act like the victim here. Don't be a pussy. "Yeah, I fuck Sam. What of it? Are you waiting in bed for me with a hard on? Did you expect me to wait on hold until you decide to be a guy again? Did you think I'd just say 'Hey, my husband's my wife now. Fiddle-dee-dee?' Sam takes my panties off; you want to put my panties on. So get over yourself. You're my maid. Do your damn job and stop all this drama." She spun. She slammed the door. I felt as if she had slammed it on my soul. * * Considering how angry Miss Gloria had been at me, she was in a remarkably good mood the next day. She complimented me on my hair, and on my new white-on-white maid's dress. She talked about how gorgeous the day was. She played with the dog. Yeah, she had been laid. I tried not to think about it. Miss Gloria took a sip of her coffee. "Julie, we have an excellent proposition that I think you'll like," she began. "I keep adding hours and chores to your contract. And it's silly. You've always said you'd work when I wanted. Well, we want to have a dinner party and invite people over. But just like always, it doesn't fit in with the hours you've contracted for. So here's the deal. Why don't we make it a 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. job like a lot of real domestics? That'll give you time to do the after-dinner clean-up And when we go to dinner or you finish your chores early, you can take time off then?" I felt the air getting thin. This wasn't playtime, the way it originally was. This was a job. A hard job where I was going to be on call all of the time. "I know, I know," Miss Gloria said. Thirteen hours a day is a lot. But you can take a few hours off here and there. The laundry doesn't take the entire time you've left for it. Neither does vacuuming a clean house? We'll pay you $400 a week. And you'll be a real maid. Won't that be great?" I looked at her. I didn't know where to start. $400 a week was less than I was making now. And 13 hours a day was a sweatshop schedule. And the idea of getting paid by Sam and Miss Gloria underlined my second- class status. I was once the man in this house. Now, I was looking at being the hired help, the mob girl, the toilet queen. On the other hand, what was I going to say? The pay cut had Sam written all over it. If I protested it, I had little doubt that I would be fired. And what then? Where would I go? Who would I be? "The changes will be fine, Miss Gloria," I said. Sam chuckled. Miss Gloria smiled. "Well, I'll have them adjust the contract," she said. * * * I moped around for two days. I did my work, but I was a zombie going through the paces. There was no joy. There was no mirth. Miss Gloria came into the living room. She asked for a lemonade. I brought it to her. "Sit with me," she said. I sat, and she looked at me. Sam came in and sat next her. He was wearing a robe, and it was open. You could see his naked body underneath. "Did you tell her yet?" Sam said. "I'm just coming to that," Miss Gloria said. She looked at me. "Now, one more thing about our contract," she said. I braced myself. That damn contract kept coming up for discussion. "I don't think it's complete," Miss Gloria said. "What do you mean?" I said. "Well, it specifies hours and duties, but it doesn't address a personal services section. I think we should include those." "Personal services?" "Right. Like if I want you to get a stain out of my gray skirt, that's a personal service. If I want you to take Steven to the airport, that's a personal service. Whatever isn't specified. So we need a section to cover that." "I have never refused you anything," I said. "Well, you might. That's why I need a contract. If I want you to clean Sam's apartment, for instance, you need to do it. Right? If I want you to wash his car. That sort of thing." So that was it. It was a ploy to make me work for Sam, too. "Then there is the sex part. If I want you to lick me, well, that should be in the contract. If I want you to suck Sam off, or Steven, that should be covered, too. You know, Steven really liked you." "Excuse me?" I said. "Oh, Julie. It's all just legal mumbo-jumbo. I know you'd blow Sam if I sincerely asked. I just want it to be in writing. And you to sign it and recognize that it's there if it ever ends up in court." I looked at the floor. How complete can my humiliation be? She wants me to suck off Sam and his buddies? "That seems ... illegal," I whimpered. She shook her head. "It's not. We have a contract that allows it," Miss Gloria said. "Julie," Sam said. "Gloria and I have been making love since dawn. And we've come several times. Well, I need you to clean us up. If you want, I'll put that in the contract, too." I looked at him. Would it never stop? Would he ever tire of degrading me? No, I thought. Probably not. The contract had taken over my life. It represented work, and it represented growth. I was playing at being the maid at first. But now I was one. I crawled over the Miss Gloria. I kissed her thighs, then her crotch. I I could smell him on her, could taste him. I licked up the dried sperm that was on her, and I felt like being sick. I licked her deep and wide, making small alphabet letters as I went. I still loved her, and I loved being close to her. I licked her until she gently pushed my head away. "I'm sensitive down there," she said. "Sam wore me out. Sam grinned. He looked at me. "Now me," he said. So I twisted on my knees and I kissed the outside of his robe. He moved it out of the way, and there was hardness there. I unzipped him, and his cock sprang out. I kissed the tip, then I kissed it several more times. I took the bulb in my mouth. His hands were on my head now, his fingers laced through my hair. He forced himself deeper into my threat, again and again. I tried to built a rhythm to sucking him, but he simply overpowered me. He face-fucked me for a good five minutes. "Slow down," I finally whispered. Then I took control of our sex. I licked his shaft and I swirled my tongue. I bobbed, my lips dragging the length of his shaft. It was better now. The guy had said two words to me -- exactly two words -- but it was turning out okay. He came shortly thereafter. I swallowed most of it. And it wasn't bad. He stood up and walked out of the room, wordlessly. I was beaten. The woman I love most had left me. The man I hated most had fucked my face. I did my work, but I was a zombie going through the paces. There was no joy. There was no mirth. Miss Gloria looked at me. She recognized my surrender. She smiled in triumph. "One more thing," she said. "I want to extend your contract to three years. But you want five, I can make it happen. Just tell me, and I'll have the lawyers put in the contract. Just sign here." copyright, Cassandra Morgan