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Safe Word By Cassandra Morgan Some laughter is a joyous thing. It invites you to join the party, to laugh along. It is the sudden burst of joy, sounding out in musical notes, gleeful and free. Some laughter, on the other hand, has teeth. It is derisive, mocking. It is the scorned sound of someone who cannot believe what a preposterous thing that was just said, and it makes one shrink at the sound of it. Melanie had a laugh like that. And now, it was pointed at Davie. "Are you nuts?" she said. "I mean, have you lost your fucking mind?" Melanie shook her head at me and chuckled some more. Sweetie, you've had some strange ideas over the years, but this may be the strangest." "I ... don't think it's so strange, Melanie," Davie protested. "But if you do, we can just let it drop." "No, no. Tell me more about this. So now you want to be some kind of sissy or something You want to wear a frilly dress and mince around the house like some fucking maid?" "Mel...it was just a thought. I mean, I see those people at the Pit, and they seem so happy." "That's thecae they have no minds of their own, Davie. If someone tells them to jump in front of a bus, they'd just cursed and ask for directions. They're domestics, Davie! They're lowly creatures doing lowly jobs. They do the jobs other people don't want to do Do you really get off on removed a stain from a blouse?." "I can't explain it, Melanie," Davie said. "I just want to be one of them. I mean, have you seen the pictures? They're like flowers -- all colorful and delicate.." "Yeah, if the flowers are pansies," Melanie said. "They're wind-up toys. They're cartoons in those little fetish dresses and heels and the way they mince around. You cannot convince me you want to do that." Davie picked up a magazine from the coffee table. He put it in front of her. "Just look at them," he said. "Look at this woman curtsey. It's...it's arousing. They have such a dignity to them." "Dignity? Jesus, Davie. The one thing that those sissies don't have is dignity. Hell, if you want to put on a dress, well, knock yourself out. You still have one in your closet from Halloween, don't. you?" "No, we rented that, remember. Anyway, it was .an Antebellum dress -- a Scarlett O'Hara dress. I wanted something...more sexy. More submissive." Melanie rolled her eyes. "More like a sissy, you mean," she snarled. "Do you have any fucking idea how hard that a sissy works, Davie? She's a damned maid. She mops floors and does the ironing. She curtseys and washes dishes. Are you telling me you want that? Jus so you can wear panties?" "Well, just for a while..." "Christ, Davie. You're too big of a pussy to be a sissy." Mel considered the words she had just said, and she exploded into another bout of laughter. "We should do one of those comparisons," Melanie said. "We could have a picture of a vagina, and then a picture of you, and we could dare people to tell the difference." "I'm sorry. I guess this was a bad idea." "Davie, you don't fucking think. Being a fetishist is about commitment and it's about compromise. You have to suffer for your pleasure, you know?" "I know." "No, you don't know. Remember when we got into bondage? That first fucking night, you were shouting out your safe word. You were a frightened little puff in the corner, afraid he was going to get hurt." "The guy...was going to beat me, Melanie," Davie said, weakly. "With a riding crop. No one said anything about me being beaten." "So you think that bondage is about tickling you with a feather? You think someone is going to put you in fuzzy handcuffs and talk mean to you? Tell you that you're a bad boy?" "Did you really want me hurt?" "A little. I was hurt. My ass was spanked, too. Davey. You can't call it bondage if you're just holding hands." "Melanie, if you want, we can try bondage again." "Again? Do you realize how embarrassing it is when your husband calls out his safe word before anything gets started? You didn't get to the first shade of gray. I ought to shackle you now for making me remember it." "I'm sorry." "And now about the water sports," Mel continued. "The very first night, and you're calling time-out again." "That woman wanted me to drink her piss," Davie said. "She didn't just want to pee on me. She wanted me to chug a beer stein full of it." "Again, did you think it out? No, you just thought you'd have someone a little urine on you, like cologne, and we'd giggle about how outrageous we were. Jesus, you're an embarrassment." "It'll be different this time," Davie said. "I swear." "How, Davie?" Melanie said. "I mean, goodness, I love you. I really do. But you aren't any good at adult games. If we got into pony play, you'd want to give the kids a ride around the park." "But maid-play is more to my tastes," he said. "I think we'd both like it." "Davie, have you thought about this? Have you thought about the menial chores? Have you thought about our friends seeing you in a dress? Have you thought about coming back to reality? It doesn't happen. I mean, have you ever met a former sissy?" Davie blushed. The lure toward this lifestyle felt so ... vivid. So real. He knew that most guys who run from this sort of embarrassment. Instead, he was excited. Inside, he was burning to be a sissy. "Davie?" Melanie's voice softened. "Are you a closet homosexual? Are you doing this so you can suck cocks? Is that what this is about? Do you want to be someone's girlfriend?" "Melanie, it's not about that." "Bullshit. A grown man does not think about becoming a sissy without thinking about nuts on his chin." "Most cross-dressers are straight," Davie sniffed. "Yeah, that's what the textbooks say," Melanie said. "But some of you just want to kiss the dick. You want some guy to sick his cock into your ass. Admit it." "I don't think you would make me do that. You don't want a gay husband." "Don't I? If we do this, if we even try it, then we do what I say when I say. No backtalk. That ought to scare you right there. Are you ready to submit to whoever I want? And yeah, that means that I might want to watch you with men. Or I might not. It depends on my mood." "If that's how you want to play..." Davie said. "It's how I want to live," Melanie said. "If you're going to be a maid, you're going to be a real one. This house is going to sparkle. You're gong to be out in public. Your friends are going to see you. While they're out playing golf, you'll be making up the bed. How does that sound?" "I can make up beds," Davie said. "It's not so bad." "I bet you can," Melanie said, sitting back. She shook her head. "Davie, what's the attraction here? I mean, really. Is it the dresses? Is it the sex? There is so much work for so little pleasure. Have you really thought about it?" Davie laughed nervously. "It's all of it, Melanie. I've thought a lot about it a lot. Everly time I close my eyes, I think about it.. It isn't just the clothes -- I mean, I love the clothes, but it's about ... being a maid. It's about embracing a role at your feet." "So what's my part in this?," she said. "You... you could be the mistress. You could force me to dress. You could make me serve you. You could call me names, make me sleep in the guest room, spank me. All the things they do in the stories." Melanie shook her head. "So I get to be the Wicked Witch, huh? The evil bitch who makes you cry? Is that it?" "You'd never be evil," Davie said. "You'd just be ... in charge. You'd like being in charge." "And you want to be a sugar-plum fairy for as long as I want?" Melanie asked. "You're the boss, Melanie." He paused, Then he added, "I mean Miss Melanie," At the sound of "Miss," she grinned, a predatory flash of teeth. In return, he smiled. There might not be many more of those, she thought. * * Melanie and Davie were quiet the next morning as they moved around the kitchen. It was as neither of them ready to reopen the discussion. Melanie sipped at her coffee and looked at her husband.He tried to read the newspaper, but it was having trouble concentrating. They made small talk over the headlines, but neither really seemed into it. Finally, Melanie broke the ice. "So do you really want to do this?" she said. Davie paused for a minute. Then he answers softly. "Part of me does.It's like a force is pulling me, like I've finally found my kink. When we started going to Palmers, I thought ... these girls ... were as weird as. you do. But there is an attraction there I can't deny. When they dance, I want to join in." "Goodness, Davie. What kind of freak are you?" "It's ... different. I admit that. But there is something to be said for letting it all go, for letting your fortunes be in someone else's hands, to lose yourself in menial tasks. I want to be submissive to you. I want to serve you, make your life better. I want to be embarrassed, and humiliated, as weird as it sounds. And, yeah, the uniforms are pretty." She sighed. "But those uniforms are so silly, Davie." "It's part of the validation, Melanie. Everyone looks, and they know right away what you are. You're a servant. You get the shit end of the stick. Melanie, you'd be in complete control." "Control sounds good. I like to be in control. Maybe I can tell you to buy better coffee than this candy shit." Davie didn't say anything. He just looked at Melanie. "We'd have to do some shopping, wouldn't we? " Melanie said. "You can't be a proper maid in gym shirts and a football jersey. Can you buy a sissy starter kit?" "I .... don't know." "Have you thought about a name?" "A name?" "Well, dumb-ass, I can't have a maid named Davie. That's like having a little yapper dog named Hercules. How about Debbie? No? Darla? Wait. Daisy. You're Daisy. I like it." A ripple of electricity went through Davie. It was the first step of this thousand-mile journey. She was Daisy. It fit. "Have you thought about your safe word? I suspect you'll use it quickly enough." Davie frowned at the dig. "I've thought about it. I need something distinctive. How about 'Rasputin?" "Rasputin?" "Yeah. He was a Russian holy mad who was mad. He was poisoned, shot and thrown in the river. It took everything to kill him." "So he wasn't his own safe word?" "Guess not. Did you think about how long we're going to play?" "Play? Do you think it's a game?" Melanie said, chuckling. "Like Monopoly? Like Clue? Do you think we take turns? "Well, i't's kind of a game, isn't it? I mean, I suppose there are rules." "There certainly are. I'm the dealer. What I say goes. You're the sissy. You will wear dresses. You will wear lingerie. You will clean and cook and serve dinner. And every night, for my entertainment, you will sing 'She's a Lady.'" "Huh?" "The old Tom Jones song. Whoa-whoa-whoa. I think I'm going to like this, Daisy. I may not ever want it to end." Davie...Daisy felt a surge go through her. Was this going to be an open- ended deal? "I can still stop thing with the safe word, right?" Daisy said, hopefully. "Jesus. Let's start a timer on that. You've always been so quick to use the safe word before." "I'm not going to need a safe word this time. I'm sure." Melanie smiled. The truth was that she had enjoyed their diversions before, and both times, she was disappointed that Davie had stopped the game. If she was gong to commit to another whimsey, well, she wanted it to last. "Let's recount," Melanie said. "You wear what I want. You do what I want. You dress how I want. You clean what mess I make. If I sneeze, you say 'bless you.' If I go to the bathroom, you wipe me. And I decide when it's over. And every night you sing 'She's a Lady' in the living room." Daisy grinned. "You're making fun of me." Melanie smiled. "Maybe a little. What good is a sissy if you can't make fun of her? Now wash the dishes, and we'll get started." * * "Daisy," Melanie said, her voice firm and commanding. "It's time." Daisy had finished with the dishes, and she had put al had into the washing machine. She walked into the bedroom as Melanie gestured to a chair in front of her vanity in the corner. "Sit, girl," she said. Daisy sat. Melanie ran a finger through Daisy's hair. She frowned. "Your hair isn't long enough," she said. "You're going to need a wig. Either that, or you could just let people know you're a sissy." "Can...can I have a wig." "This is going to cost you, Daisy. You need clothes. Lingerie. Jewelry. Shoes. And uniforms, of course. Does that make your peenie stand at attention??" "I...I'm nervous, Miss Melanie. "But I'm excited. I can't believe we're really going to do this." "You do know that you might not be excited for long, don't you, Daisy? I don't want you shouting out your safe word at the first sign of discomfort." "I won't. I promise." "Daisy, on April 17th of the year 2031, you're going to be wearing a dress. On August 21st, 2047, you're going to be wearing a dress. On December 3rd of 2009 you're going to be wearing a dress. That the reality, Daisy. You'll be an old woman cleaning the retirement home someday. Are you ready to change your life? "Yes, Miss. It's going to be an adventure." "What? Now you're Indiana Jones? Or maybe Amelia Earhart? Remember, some explorers didn't make it back alive." "Mel...Miss Melanie...it means a lot that you would try this with me." "I love you, Daisy. Remember that. I'm going to make some mistakes, too. But at the end of this, we're still us. But you have to let me be your guide. You have to trust me to do the right thing. Even if it seems wrong to you." "I trust you, Miss Melanie." "Good. Now, go pick out a nightgown of mine. It's time you started to feel feminine." "A nightgown?" Daisy smiled. "Yes. And panties. Now, you need to take off most of your makeup, but I'm going to let you wear lipstick tonight. You need to shave your legs and do your fingernails." "Oh." "Say 'thank you," Daisy." "Than you, Miss Melanie." "This is it, Daisy. You're going on a strange and wonderful journey, and everything you've known has changed. You're a sissy maid now, Daisy." "I understand, Miss Melanie. I'm not scared." Melanie smiled. "Maybe you should be." * * * The first stop on their grand shopping day was a place called "Out of the Closet." It was a second-hand clothing shop, and this particular one seemed to cater to the city's transgender. There were heels in larger sizes, dresses with wide shoulders. There were wigs and breast forms and lingerie. Daisy kept looking at their small men's section but glancing across the store to where a nice white dress with red flowers was hanging. He stood there, trying to muster his courage, when a pretty young shopgirl approached him. In a husky voice, she said "See anything you like?" "I...um...I'm just looking." Daisy put her hands in her pockets so her fingernails wouldn't show. "Well, look closer, sweetie. That white dress is calling for you." she laughed. "I remember buying my first dress. Every girl does." Daisy was a little embarrassed he had been spotted checking out the women's clothing so quickly. "It's...it's a nice dress," she managed. Daisy looked at Melanie for moral support. She smiled. "Can he try it on?" "We have dressing rooms," the clerk said. "But we don't provide underwear for customers. My name is Brenda, by the way." "That's okay, Brenda. I brought some of mine. Here, Daisy. Take this bra and panties and go and try on your dress." "Can you please keep your voice down? Someone will hear." "So what? Who do you think you're fooling, Daisy? Everyone here can see the sissy in you. They've seen it before. Spread your wings. Of course, with that dress, you may soon spread your legs." Brenda the shopgirl giggled. Melanie laughed. Daisy blushed. "Daisy, this is what you wanted," Melanie said. "Just do it." "But....I never thought I'd have to dress up in public." "Daisy, that's just part of it. In an hour, you'll be wearing a dress. In a month, you'll have permanent makeup. In two months, your hair will be long enough that you'll go to salon. In three months, your boobs will start to grow from the pills. This is just the first real step. Swallow hard and take it." Daisy took the dress and, with long strides, walked into the dressing room. She sat alone on a chair and put her hands in her face. Should she really do this? God, Melanie would kill her if she backed out so soon. She unbuckled her belt and let her trousers fall. She pulled her shirt over her head. She stripped off her boxers. And there she was, on the brink of sissidom. If she put on those panties, there was no way back. If she tried on the dress, and it fit, it was hers. Daisy wiggled her panties up her legs. She needed to shave them, she thought. She hooked her bra -- hooking it in front and spinning . She slid the dress over her head. And she fell in love with the mirror. The dress fit perfectly. It flowed over her hips, and the hem tickled her legs. If there had ever been any doubts about being a sissy for Davie, they evaporated in that moment. In her mind's-eye, she had seen the woman a thousand times. Every time they would go to Palmer's, and she would look over the trans women and the sissies, she felt this woman inside of her clawing to get out. It had been a rarely tapped-on part of her for years. She wasn't quite sure how it began, but it was there. "You okay in there?" Melanie asked from outside the door. "Um...yeah. I'm okay." "Well, come out and let us see," she said. "This is no time to be shy, girl." So Daisy slowly stepped into the shop, and Brenda clapped. Melanie nodded. "You look nice, sissy. Turn and twirl your skirt. Hmm. You still need hair, and you need boobs." "We sell breast forms," Brenda sad. "Hey, Paul," she shouted across the store. Where did we put that pair of knockers we got in Thursday?" "The Cs?" "Yeah. We have a sissy who needs a pair." "Please, Brenda...." Daisy said. "Honey, if the world is going to see them, it might as well hear about them," Brenda said. "Now let's go get you some puppies." The trio walked across the sales floor. An effeminate man handed a pair of silicone breast forms to Brenda. Melanie unzipped the dress, and each woman took a breast and tucked it into her bra. "Those look great," Brenda said. "Better than mine." "Oh. I would have thought yours were real," Melanie said. "No, feel them." And so, there in the store, Daisy watched his wife get to second base with a trans saleswoman while he was wearing breasts of his own. It was an odd slice of life. From there, they wen to a wig display. Melanie liked a long blond win, but Brenda liked a curly red number. In the end, Melanie bought the blond one. "Do you guys have maid's dresses? Melanie said. "Oh, she's a maid? Does she hire out?" "Well, we're just starting. Do you have a business card?" "I do. But I'm afraid we don't carry maid's dresses. Those never come in on consignment. I guess if you put on a maid's dress, you wear it for life." "Is that right, Daisy?" Melanie teased. "Is this a life sentence for you?" Daisy blushed. This was not as discreet as he would have preferred it to be." "There is a uniform store on 34th street," Brenda said. "But they just have the plain working stuff. They have nurse's uniforms and waitress stuff too, if you're interested. Women's cop uniforms. Or you can go to the Emerald Emporium. They have you fancy, frilly dress stuff. The stuff fantasies are made of. Either way, you can put that girl to work." Melanie laughed. "She works hard for the money. So hard for it, honey." "So you better treat her right," Brenda joined in. "You ever go to the Pit, Brenda?" Melanie asked. "Not a lot. You ever been to Lucky Charms?" "No. Never heard of it." "A lot of girls like Daisy are there. She'll feel right at home. Best trans bar in the city." "I'll keep that in mind. Of course, I may have to buy her a leash to take her out." "We sell leashes," Brenda said. "Come this way." * * The Emerald Emporium is a small shop across from the Brandenburg Mall. Frankly, it reminded Melanie of an old Toys R Us store, well-lit and brightly painted. You'd never suspect this was where adults came to get their toys. Melanie and Daisy walked it, and saw there were tight shelves like in a convenience store. The adult videos were on the near wall. There was clothing in the left-hand corner. On the far wall, there were glass display cases for the discerning shopper. Melanie let Daisy wander, and she started looking at the toys -- the dildos, the handcuffs, the edible panties. She paused when she saw a vicious looking display with rings and a tube. "Is this what they call a yo-yo?" she said, grinning. "That, my dear, is your top-of-line chastity case. Extra small." Melanie giggled. "And, what pray tell, does it do?" The girl behind the counter smiled. She had spiked black hair and neck tattoos. Her bottom lip was pierced. On her black blouse, she was wearing a name tag: "Shannon" "It locks up a bad pee-pee," Shannon said, smiling. "Calms the boys right down. It's like taking the batteries out of their remote control. Essentially, his dick is in jail." "I see. So it's for when he's bad?" "It's for when you want it to be. If he's been fooling around, or if he hasn't, or if you think his dick needs a time-out, you can lock him up. You could call it hard time, but if you get my meaning, it's soft time." "That's cool. I might need one of those. What else does a lady need when she has a brand new sissy?" "Brand new?" "Just out of the box." Shannon grinned. She reached up above the cash register and swatted a set of hanging bells there. It was possible to hear them tinkle throughout the store. "Sissy in the house!" Shannon yelled out. "Sissy!" the store's customers responded on cue, looking at Daisy. It was an old game at the Emporium. The sounding of the bells signaled a new sissy. Shannon chortled. "Well, if you buy the cage, you can buy a butt plug for half price. That'll tell her. you mean business." "Daisy! Daisy, come here. How would you like one of this torpedos up your ass?" "Uh, that would hurt, Miss Melanie. I'd rather not get any of these...gadgets." Daisy suddenly felt small. She thought about breaking out her safe word, but she decided not to. Melanie would give her grief is she used it so soon Melanie's eyes narrowed. "You'd rather not .. ?" Daisy looked at the floor. "Nothing, Miss Melanie. It's not my decision." "You bet it isn't, numb-nuts. Just for that, I'm going to get the medium sized. That'll make your eyes cross." "This one has a stinger." Shannon said. "If you push a button on the remote, it vibrates until she'll feel like she has a firecracker up her ass." "God. I've gotta have one of those, too. But really, we just came in to look at your maid's dresses." "You're in luck. We have a buy-one, get-one special going on. You can get a full week's supply if you want. Mix your colors. Mix the piping. It's top of the line clothing." "I like the black one. How about you, Daisy?" She held it up to his chest to guess at the size. "Whatever you say, Miss Melanie." "Smartest thing you've said all day, Sissy," Melanie said. She turned to Shannon. "What do you recommend?" "I like the ones that come with locks. They aren't necessary, because no maid would never take off her dress when she wasn't told to. But symbolically, it means a lot. Oh, and get one with a nice mob hat. The hat reminds them every minute that they have no status. I love hats." Melanie sighed. "We'll take four uniforms -- black, light blue, red and pink. We'll take the cage and the medium-sized stinger. I want that double dildo. I'll take that necklace that says "sissy." "Well, who's a lucky girl!" Shannon said, grinning at Daisy. "Shit. After today, you can go straight to the Hyatt and get a job making beds." Melanie chuckled. "That's funny," she said. "Have you considered a penis gag? If you don't like to spank, it's a great way to punish your pet." "Shit. I'm going to spend a fortune here . I'd feel terrible about it if I wasn't using Daisy's Visa card. Oh, and Shannon. Pack up everything else, but she'll wear the penis gag home." * * It wasn't that hard for Daisy to balance the tray in her hands. Balancing herself was she wobbled in high heels was different. Daisy felt like she was walking a tightrope, and at any moment, she could fall. She tapped lightly on the bedroom door and heard Melanie's voice. "Come in, girl," a voice rang out. And Daisy did. Melanie sat up in the bed and grinned at what she saw. There, in her black maid's dress, was Daisy. Her white apron was glistening, and her makeup was far too heavy, but as she stood there, her head bowed, Melanie's breakfast in her hands, she felt a surge of power run through her veins. This sissy -- her husband -- would do whatever she wanted. "Look at you, Daisy," Melanie said, excitedly. "You're perfect. I love your dress. And. your wig is great. Blond hair is good on you. Did you consider pigtails? I love pigtails on my maid. Lift your skirt. Let me see. your petticoat." Daisy giggled and twirled, the hem of her dress lifting from the motion. She lifted the sides of her dress and bobbed, grinning. Her hose shone from the light. "You like this, huh?" Melanie said, reaching under her skirt to touch her ass. "Oh, Miss Melanie, I do," Daisy said. "I know you've wondered why I chose this, but to tell you the truth, it chose me. I was always a sissy, I guess." Daisy had arisen at 4:45, long before the alarm was set. Her nerves were on edge as she dressed for the first time, reveling in how her bra felt around her, how her panties covered her crotch, how her hose embraced her legs. As Davie, she had dressed in Melanie's clothes often, but she never felt so ... permanent. She bobbed up and down, a crude curtsey. "Oh, you're getting into this," Melanie said. "I like it. Bring me my food, wench." Daisy smiled, feeling her role overtake her. "As you wish, Mistress." "I don't like the word mistress. It sounds like someone's second woman. Try Miss Melanie." "Yes, Miss Melanie." "Daisy, you need to start on your morning chores. I always did the laundry first thing. You can vacuum and wash dishes while its in the wash. I'll wash up, and then you can make the beds. Is that acceptable? "Of course, Miss Melanie. I'm just the maid." Melanie laughed as she said that. "Yes, you are. You're a sissy maid. You're not a husband or a partner or a weekend golfer of a computer whiz or a gardener or an esteemed member of the country club. You're a girl. You wear panties." "Yes, Ma'am," Daisy responded. "Does that intimidate you Daisy?" Melanie said, trying to push Daisy's buttons. "Do you want to quit? Just say the safe word, and you can forget about all of this. No one will call you queer. No one will give you orders." "I'm...I'm fine, Miss Melanie." She nodded. "Well, you've gone further than I thought you would. Now get to. your chores, Daisy." Daisy spun and started to walk out the door. "Hold on a minute," Melanie said, her voice rising. "Yes, ma'am?" "Daisy, I'm only going to ask this once. Are you wearing your cage?" "Um...well, since it was my first day, I didn't think..." "Are you capable of thinking, lassie? I told you to wear it. How about your butt plug?" "Um, no ma'am. It scares me. It's going to hurt." "Did I tell you to trust me? You'll adjust. Millions of other sissies have." 'Ma'am, I thought those were for company. I'm sorry." "I never wanted to spank you, Daisy. Did you want me to? Is that what this is all about. I know some of your fairy boy like to be spanked." "No, ma'am. I didn't want that." "One more slip, and I get out the belt, Daisy. As it is, I want you to wear your penis gag this morning. It'l remind. you that I'm in charge here." "Ma'am, it looks too realistic. I don't want to do my work with a penis in my mouth." "That's what you say. I don't believe. you. I think. you're dying to have a penis in your mouth. I think that's the bottom line for you, isn't it Daisy?" "No...no, ma'am." Melanie opened the door to her bedside nightstand. She took out the gag and a small lock. "Turn your head, Daisy. Say 'aaah.' You'll wear this until I say you can get out of it." Daisy felt the rubber slide in between her teeth. It was a small gag, only four inches or so, but it felt immense and foreign. Melanie snapped the lock shut behind her head and put the key on the nightstand. "Enjoy it, cocksucker," she said. "Think of Brad Pitt." Tears welling in her eyes, Daisy left the room. She had work to do. * * Daisy worked throughout the morning, and slowly, her labors took over the feminine feelings of her clothing. Yes, she liked what she was wearing -- the hat and the heels and the lingerie -- but there were clothes to iron, and floors to mop, and Miss Melanie wanted her to make an assortment of appetizers. She didn't say what for. But Daisy liked her duties. There was a sense of purpose, an ability to get lost in the mundane work of a domestic. She wasn't worried about hard drives or motherboards. She worried about getting an odd stain out of Miss Melanie's yellow skirt. That was all. That was enough. She hated the penis gag. She hated the cage. She mostly hated the plug, although she was getting used to it. Was Miss Melanie making a point? Was this Daisy's life for the future? As the das rolled by, there was no casual goofing around, not spinning through channels to find something to watch, to talking about where they might go for dinner. She worked, and no one paid attention. No one praised how she scrubbed the toilets, or talked how well she folded the clothes. Her work was thankless. Her tasks were endless. It was three weeks later that she kneeled in front of Miss Melanie. She hadn't been unlocked in 21 days. Her feet her. Her butt hurt. "Miss Melanie, can I say something?" she asked quietly. Melanie looked at her, puzzled. "Go ahead," she said. "Rumplestiltskin," Daisy said. "Excuse me?" "I'm sorry, Miss Melanie," Daisy said. "But I have to use the safe word. Rumplestiltskin." Melanie shook her head. "Dumb ass, that's not the safe word. Don't tell me you've forgotten." "No, ma'am. I remember. It's Rumplestiilkin. The Fairy Tale villain." "No, Daisy, it's not." She was lauding louder now. "Are you sure?" "Yes, Daisy. I'm sure." "Robert De Niro?" "No, Daisy." "Richard Nixon?" "You've got to be kidding me. This is priceless. You've lost the safe word." "Ruby Rose? Robert E. Lee? Russell Wilson?" Daisy stood there, looking lost, confused. She had fought against using the safe word, and when she finally tried, she found out she wasn't safe at all. "Maybe it'll come to you, Daisy. I know most maids aren't very smart. So don't worry your silly little head any more. Just get to work." * * * Later that day , Daisy made a soup-and-salad meal for Miss Melanie and a glass of iced tea for lunch. She put a flower out of the vase in the living room by her plate. "Daisy, my parents are coming over for drinks tonight. They won't stay for dinner, but I wanted them to see what I married. You'll serve the appetizers at 7, okay?" Daisy's eyes widened. "Mr. Walker is coming? And Susan...Miss Susan? I don't want them to see me like this." "Isn't people seeing you the whole point, Daisy?" Melanie shrugged. "Isn't it a delicious feeling that my father -- your boss -- is going to see what a Twinkie his son-in-law is? Doesn't it excite you down to your painted toenails? 'Dan, this is Daisy. She works in your IT department." "God, Mel...Miss Melanie. He'll beat me up. He'll fire me. He'll make you divorce me." "Cone on, Daisy. No one's going to make me divorce you. No one's going to beat you up. No one's going to fire you. There are laws. But, yeah, they'll look at you differently from now on. They'll question your sexuality. But isn't that the point?" "It's...too soon." "I think there is no time like the present. You need to be out, Daisy. People need to know who you are." Daisy's head was swimming. She felt over her head. She was tired. She feared her boss seeing her. She felt unappreciated. She felt clueless, useless, hapless. And she felt it was time to speak up again. "Rigatoni," she said softly. "What?" "Rigatoni," Daisy repeated. "I remembered. The safe word isn't a person at all. It's a dish.." "Sweetie, that's not the safe word, either." "It's...it's not?" "No, lady. Don't you remember?" "Could it have been Ratatouille?" "No, Daisy. Not that, either. Didn't you write it down?" "Was it....Rutabaga?" "Nope." "Raspberry?" Melanie just laughed. "Damn it. It was something with R. Rambo?" Melanie laughed. "No, not Rambo." "Isabella Rosselini?" Melanie laughed and shook her head. "Stop kidding around, Daisy. And change your dress. You've been in the black one all day. Maybe the pink." "Ronald Reagan?" Robin Hood? Roy Rogers?" "Stop your foolishness girl. Now get to work before I take a belt to you." "Yes, ma'am," Daisy said, her eyes downcast. What the hell could that safe word be? One more time, she tried. "Jackie Robinson? Teddy Roosevelt? Rocket Richard?" "You're waisting your breath." "Rapunzel? Ricky Ricardo? Raphael?" Melanie looked at him. "It's none of those," she said. "Now, forget this foolishness, and let's see a little sweat, maid. You aren't being paid to play Jeopardy. In fact, you aren't being paid. Head bowed, defeated, hopeless, Daisy picked up the 409 and headed toward the bathroom. And Melanie smiled. The bimbo didn't even remember the right word. But if she didn't know, she wan't going to tell her. Besides, company was coming. * When the knock sounded from the door, Daisy looked at Miss Melanie. She nodded for her to answer it. Her parents shouldn't be kept waiting. And so Daisy cracked the door, saw who it was, and opened it. She stood there in a pink's maid's dress, her long blonde wig in pigtails, dancing earrings bouncing beside her cheeks. She had pink heels -- she looked like cotton candy, to tell the truth - and a bow on her head. Miss Melanie had helped her with her makeup. She bobbed into a curtsey. "Me. Walker. Mrs. Walker. Please come in." The two just stood there, staring at their son-in-law in the pink dress. Daisy stood there, her head bowed, his earrings hanging, his hands folded. She didn't feel sexy. She felt...meek. "I don't get the joke," Malcolm Walker said. "Why is Davie in a dress?" "It's no joke, Daddy. Daisy is my new maid. Isn't she cute?" "Well, I think she's darling," Mrs. (Susan) Walker said. "She's much better than that smelly old man you used to live with." "Davie's a fag?" Mal said. "A nut juggler?" "Mal...we don't use those words," Mrs. Walker said. "We call them homos. It's politically correct. Don't you keep up with things?" "Dad, mom. Please come in and stop gawking. And it's Daisy, not Davie." Mal gathered himself. He walked in a half-circle, staying as far away from Daisy as he could. "Jesus, Davie," he said. "You're a woman now?" "Daisy, she said," Mrs. Walker said. "She's not biologically a woman, Daddy," Melanie said. "She's what we call a sissy. Would you like a drink? She's a great bartender." "I'll have a Jack and coke. No. Hold the coke. Just straight Jack." "Do you have white wine?" Mrs Walker asked. "I'll have wine, too," Melanie said. Daisy cursed and left the room and get the drinks. This was all so humiliating. He cannot believe that his in-laws had seen him in a dress as he fetched for them. None of them would never forget the moment. "Does she squat to pee?" Susan wanted to know. "Are those....breasts real?" Mal wondered. "No...not yet," Melanie said. "But they will be. Soon, I hope. We're meeting with the doctor on Wednesday." "Jesus. Does she have a ...well, a va-jay-jay?" "No, Daddy. This is all new. I'm sure we'll talk about a vagina, but that's for down the road." "Well, I think she's adorable," Susan said. "And it explains some things. I always thought he was, well, that way. You can always tell." "Just what every man wants," ML said. "A son-in-law in skirts. So, Melanie, does this make you a lesbian now?" "No, Daddy, I'm not a lesbian. And Daisy is, well, gender fluid. We're not sure where his sexual attraction is yet, but I suspect he likes both. Why ask to be a sissy if you aren't into guys?" "He...she asked?" Malcom said. "You didn't force her?" "It's more like she begged," Melanie said. "Mal, don't you have a few of those 'guys' at work. Could you introduce them to Daisy?" "Susan, Daisy is married to your daughter. For now, anyway. I don't need to orchestrate a dick hunt for her."" "Daddy, stop it. I just have a maid, that's all. It's no big thing." "I bet that'a it," Mal said. "He doesn't have a big thing." "What does the size of his little thing matter, Daddy?" Melanie said. "Yes. I would think it's the size of his boyfriend's thing that's important here," Susan said. Daisy returned with drinks for the three of them. She was having trouble making eye contract. "So have you always been queer?" Mal said. "Even when you were a little girl...I mean, a little boy. Shit what were you?" "Sir...I'm not..." "Hon, how is the insurance at your job? Can she the surgery she needs?" "Um...I don't know, Susan. I've never had reason to find out. I do know there are laws that protect her job, so I can't fire her." "Why would you fire her? She's great at her job." "Well, it would be strange when he comes to work in a dress." "She. When she comes to work in a dress." "I suppose I could make her a secretary. Maybe a receptionist." "No, you won't," Mrs. Walker said. "Fair is fair. If she can do the job, it shouldn't matter what she wears. Or how many dicks she takes in her ass. Besides, this could be good for your company. Imagine the publicity you'll get when the newspapers find out that your son-in-law cut his dick off." "But what if she gives blow jobs during her lunch hour?" "Mal! It's her lunch hour She can eat what she wants. "You know Jordan Taylor in accounting? I'll bet he'd tap that." "I bet he would. And afterward, she can clean his office." "Speaking of which, how good a maid is she?" Mrs. Walker said. "I could use some help at home now that Viola quit." "See. I'm sure we can find a benefit for everyone," Melanie said. "Yeah, that's Daisy," Melanie said. "She's the original friend with benefits." The two of them laughed. Mal looked at Daisy one more time. Slowly,, he shook his head. What was this world coming to. On the other hand, he thought, Daisy did have nice legs. * * Daisy wore the white dress the night Melanie took her to Secrets, the nightclub on the west side of town. It was a bar for straights, which was Melanie's idea. Every now and then, a couple of chicks have to blow off steam. "This place is kind of fancy for a maid, don't you think?" Melanie said. "Can I ask why we're here," Miss Melanie?" "We're here because you need to get out more, Daisy. You need to get in touch with your feminine side. Being a woman isn't just about cleaning floors. It's about social interaction. Talking. Dancing. Getting to know each other. So you're going to be the belle of the ball. I want you to walk away with a guy's phone number. I want to kiss him on the lips. You don't have to have sex with him if you don't have time. But you can if you want." "But Miss Melanie...what's the point?" "The point is to party. The point is to get in touch with your feminine side. The point, sweet Daisy, is to shake your ass. Don't overthink this." "Melanie...what if I get recognized. What if he tries to take advantage of me." "Daisy, if that happens, you should take advantage of him right back. Now go, mingle. I'll be at the bar." Daisy stood, looking around the bar. Couples were dancing, talking, flirting, the mating calls of the human species. She wandered to the bar and took a stool. Her throat was dry in a way that alcohol couldn't fix. She took a stool and looked around the room. The bartender grinned at her. A tall lesbian with red hair ogled her. Then she heard a voice. "Hey, sweet cakes," a guy who sat at the next stool said to her. He had on a brown shirt and about a half-dozen gold necklaces. He looked like he was going to a party at Mr. T's. He had a goatee and a chipped tooth. "Tickle your ass with a feather?" he said. "Excuse me?" Daisy said. "I said 'typically nasty weather.' " "Oh," Daisy said, trying hard to keep the lilt in her voice. "I misunderstood you.." The guy snorted and stuck his hand out. "I'm Donnie," he said. "It's funny. Trannies don't usually come in Secrets. You trolling?" The embarrassment of being made washed over Daisy. If everyone else knew, she could get hurt. There could be trouble. "Your hands gave you away, sissy. They look like a catcher's hands." "Please don't make a fuss," she said softly. "I'll leave." "I never told you to leave, little lady. I just asked wanted to know what I was chasing." "Im...I'm Daisy," she said. "Well, hello Daisy, To tell you the truth, I kind of like you trannies. I'm dong a survey. Have you ever blown a guy in a public bathroom?" Daisy winced. She didn't like being called a tranny, and she didn't like Donnie. "No, I never have." "Now's a good time..." Daisy's eyes glance around the room. Where was Melanie? "So what do you do for a living, Miss Daisy?" "I'm...I'm a maid." Donnie chuckled. "Well, don't that figure. Our sissy boy likes to mop. You see anything here you want to clean, Daisy?" "Donnie, I'm sorry. This is all too fast for me. Why don't we just talk for a while?" "We could talk, lBut, hell, why waste time with words?" I bet your ass is wet just thinking about my dick." "Donnie, I'm not after that. I've just wanted to get your phone number? Pretty please?" "You gonna cal me, or do you want to text me naked pictures of you. I'd love to see those." "Ah, please, Donnie," Daisy said, leaning close. She kissed the stubble on his cheek. "Okay. It's 772-1974. We could have phone sex." "You're sweet, Donnie." She lled. She reached up and kissed him. He bit her bottom lip. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes, maybe with a hint of a Russian sweat sock. "You thinking about it yet, Daisy? You think about your Lipton my rod? You think about catching my sperm in the back of your throat?" Daisy spun. She walked quickly toward the door, afraid of what might happen to her, and despite her disgust, afraid of what she wanted to happen. * * * As the days went by, both Melanie and Daisy found things they adored about their new lifestyle. Melanie loved being the lady the manor, watching Daisy worked as she put a jigsaw together. She loved being in charge, deciding which restaurant and which movie. Daisy loved the routine of her job and, of course, the dressing. She loved shoes and hats and jewelry. But where they agreed, the part they found the most thrilling, was the exposure. Melanie loved to present Daisy to friends and neighbors. She loved those moments where someone had made Daisy, who knew she was a guy in a dress. She loved the stammering that people did when they were introduced to her maid. On Saturday, Melanie had Daisy in the yard, holding up one of those spinning signs. "A Sissy lives here," It said. Daisy spent every evening, in her maid's dress, walking the dog. Soon, she picked up dogs from all over the neighborhood. She shopped for groceries. She rode the bus to work, where her co-workers quickly adapted to her in a dress. Finally, Daisy was presented to his oldest friend, Cam Herndon, and his wife Josie. As Davie, he had hung around a lot with Cam, watching ballgames and playing video football and arguing about movies. But now it was time for Daisy to meet Cam while wearing a dress. It was time to come out. At first glance, Cam looked his old friend up and down. His jaw dropped open. "Close up," Josie said, looking at her husband. "Welcome to the new century." "Um, it's not that, Davie. I mean, really." "Daisy," Melanie corrected. "Yeah. Daisy. I'm sorry. You just could have knocked me over. I never got that kind of vibe from you, I swear." "It's okay, Cam," Daisy said. "But you need to learn about transgender girls." "Oh, he knows," Josie said. "Cam's a big fan of the Drag Race."" She laughed. "He and his boner watch it all the time." "Is that true, Cam?" Melanie said. "You like girls with danglies?" "I...I think they're pretty," Cam said. "Sometimes, you can't even tell." "It's okay," Melanie said. "It's better that you like them than if you wanted to beat them up." "Did you say 'beat them off?" Josie said, giggling. "I said 'up,' and you know it," Melanie said, laughing along. "So what do you do to her, Mistress of the Night?" "Not much. She does her chores. I like to embarrass her." "Do you make her watch you and other guys? "Josie, I don't have other guys." "Really? You need to get out more. Do you peg her?" "No. I mean, I haven't." "Do you spank her?" "I've threatened, but I've never done it." "Shit, girl. You're using about five percent of your maid. You've got to get tougher. if you're going to be a mistress. The whole point of being in charge is that, well, you're in charge. If you want a lover, that's cool. If you want to watch Daisy play with herself, that's cool. If you want to with an animal, she can't say no. She's a sissy, Melanie. Be the queen." "I'm...I'm not into those things," Melanie said. "Well, I bet Daisy would be. I saw her looking at Cam. I bet she'd suck his cock right in front of all of us." "Well, she does have a penis gag. I think she likes it." She was wearing it the other day, and she wasn't even being punished. "What did I tell you? Open the door wider, Melanie. Don' be afraid of life. Find a boyfriend if you want." "Have you ever...had an affair?" "Duh," she said. "I'm in my 30s. There have been some hikers on the trail, if you know what I mean." "And Cam?" "Cam is allowed to do what he wants. We don't get hung up on things. You want to take Cam out for a test drive, it's okay with me." "Goodness, Josie. I'm surprised." "You're fucking from the Brady Bunch. Real life isn't that way. People experience life." "I'll...um, I'll think about it." "Think long," Josie said, "and think hard. That's what Cam is -- long and hard." "I mean, he's very attractive. But I couldn't sleep around on Daisy." "Then make it a threesome. Daisy can watch. Sissies love to clean you up afterward with their tongues." "Ewww," Melanie said. "Not so ewww," Josie said. "It's more like 'ooooooh." Melanie laughed nervously. "How long has it been?" Josie said. "I mean how long has it really been since you've strapped a guy on and took him to the rodeo?" "It's been a while," Melanie said. "Then consider this my gift to you. You can borrow Cam on Friday night. Don't break him." Josie giggled. After a moment, Melanie started laughing too. After all, she didn't have any plans for Friday night. * * "No," Daisy said. "Daisy, you aren't allowed to tell me no. Do you need a spanking? I mean it, I'll bloody your ass." "Miss Melanie. I don't want you to sleep with Cam. I especially dob't want to see it. I know you have needs. Just do it when I'm not looking. I'm not ready for that." "Well, get ready, Daisy." "I'll use my safe word, Miss Melanie." "Oh, bull-feathers. Last time you tried, you couldn't remember it." "RuPaul!" He looked at her hopefully. "That's not it, Daisy. Keep trying." "Ronald Reagan?" "Colder." "Rembrandt?" "You're grasping at straws, Daisy. Give it up." "Babe Ruth? Salmon Rushdie? Jean-Jaques Rousseau. The guy who invented the Rubik's Cube?" "Really? That's really a guess?" "I don't want to watch Cam and you, Miss Melanie." "Well, you don't have a choice Think about me, Daisy. Don't you think I deserve a guy?" "Of course you do, Miss Melanie. I get that. But I don't want to cross any borders." "Then just be there. Watch." "You won't force me to take part.' "Not me. Maybe Cam. He thinks you're cute." "No, he thinks I'm a freak." "Then you have nothing to worry about, Daisy. You can pour us drinks. Turn down the bedspread. Be there with me. This is new to me, too." Daisy took a minute. She wanted the world to slow down. She wanted to figure out the safe word. She wanted ... sanity. That night, Cam came over at 7:30 p.m. She had made pasta and broccoli. She served them by the table side, noticing how Cam's eyes kept wandering over Melanie. This was her right, Daisy thought, but that didn't make it easy. After dinner, the two sat on the coach. Cam reach over and kissed Melanie lightly. She looked at Daisy, wondering if she was going to object. Eventually, she took his hand, and she led him to her bedroom. Daisy followed dutifully, bringing a towel and a pitcher of water. In a way, this was a thrill in itself. Daisy had never considered what cuckoldry would be like, but she could not escape her appreciation for the image in front of her. Cam cupped her breast, and Daisy felt herself grow hard. He kissed her mouth, and his nerve endings cried out. They moved slowly toward the bed, and Daisy could not decide if she would crazier if they stopped or if they did not. And. then, it happened. Cam stepped back from Melanie, and he gently took Daisy's hand, and he kissed her full on the mouth. As his tongue entered her mouth, her eyes widened into cue balls. Cam clambered across Melanie's body, then reached over and cupped Daisy's breast. Daisy tried to wiggle away. lThis was not what she had followed them for. This wasn't right. Cam was leaning across Melanie, almost ignoring her. He ran his hands over Daisy's body now, lifting the skirt of her maid's dress. His fingertips traced the outline of Daisy's penis in her panties. He gently pushed her toward the bed. "No," Daisy said. "It's supposed to be you and Melanie." "Miss Melanie," Melanie said softly. "She's coming along, Daisy girl," Cam said. "She's not going anywhere. But you're going to the moon." Cam pushed down on Daisy's shoulders, gently, then harder. She looked up into his face just as Melanie kissed it. Then Melanie's hands were in Daisy's hair, and she was guiding him lower, past Cam's chest, past his stomach. And there it was, someone else's penis, strong and immense. And it felt right to Daisy. This was what submission was all about. She kissed the tip, gently, She licked the shaft down, then up. She took the bulb in her mouth and gently bobbed. There was so much more than her penis gag. This was real, and this was big. She felt his testicles on her chin. And then she was doing it, bobbing naturally, alternating whether she sucked hard or lightly. Melanie had stopped kissing Cam; she was watching Daisy intently. When Cam came, it was obvious that Daisy wasn't here to clean up Melanie; it was the other way around. This was her little cupcake, sucking his first cock. It was beautiful, it was mesmerizing, and they both knew it would not be the last time. Cam rolled over, and he fondled Melanie's ass. She smiled at him, then at Daisy. A few moments later, Cam was strong again, and this time, he made love to Melanie, and yes, Daisy cleaned it up without protest. He gently kissed Cam's penis. Why not? Soon, it would be in her backside. Wouldn't it. Daisy snuggled up against Melanie, and the two of them lay there for a moment in the afterglow of sex. Daisy looked up and her perfect wife. She smiled. "Rasputin," Daisy whispered whispered. "The safe word is Rasputin. I guess I don't need it anymore." "What? You knew..." "Of course I knew. I never wanted safety. I never needed it. I was just ... tempted. I wondered if you would let me out. But every step we made, I made willingly. I'm yours, Miss Melanie." "I may spank you for that," Melanie said. "Rhonda Rousey," said Daisy. Copyright, Cassandra Morgan, 2021.