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BLACKMAILED Victor Carpenter's life was as good as he had ever hoped it could be. At twenty one he'd moved out of his parent's house and two years later bought his own, in another part of the country, with a small part of the inheritance he'd received from his grandfather, it still left the bulk of it to provide him with a good income for life. It had meant that he need no longer worry about his parents discovering his secret; he loved the feel of women's clothes, but his family were very traditionally religious and it would have upset them enormously if they knew. The house was large enough for him to think of it as an investment, but also it could accommodate a family if he were to ever marry. It had good sized grounds, including a pool. There were only two other neighbouring houses in the exclusive, remote development called 'The Close', and he made a point of not getting to know the people who lived in them, not wanting surprise visitors. He knew them by sight of course, in the next house were the Jenkins, Brian and Eileen, him about forty and a doctor, she a thirtyish housewife who seemed to entertain quite a bit. The other house belonged to the Hardwicks, Malcolm was presumably a successful businessman of about fifty with a much younger wife, Joyce not much older than Victor, so early to mid twenties. Both the women were very good looking and obviously looked after themselves. Another advantage of The Close was that they were separated by high thick hedges so he could even sunbathe en femme if he had the desire. In the two years since he moved in, he had done it many times and that day was no exception. He started that morning by washing his light brown hair that had grown several inches down his back in the two years. He normally kept it in a low pony tail, but whenever he dressed up it was his crowning glory. He placed it in rollers while it dried, giving it soft waves while he sat in his undies to do his make up. He'd just finished when he jumped in surprise as his front door bell rung and a woman's voice through his letter box called out. "Delivery, I'll leave it in the porch." Frightened, he crept downstairs and peered out of his door's spy hole. Sure enough no one was there but a box was placed just the other side of the door, the trouble was that it was Sunday and he wasn't expecting anything. He quickly removed the rollers, pulled his hair back, securing it with an elastic band and slipped a long man's dressing gown on to retrieve the parcel. On the lid was an envelope which read 'Instructions'. It contained about a dozen photos of him dressed and in his garden, some with make up some without and all dated over the months he had lived in the house. A note was included: 'Dear Mr Carpenter, We thought you would like to see copies of the snaps that are going to be sent to your parents at the address below. If you would like to discuss the matter, we suggest that you put on just the clothes we have sent you here and attend lunch at "Wild Winds" as quickly as you are able to present yourself, enter by the back door. Delay or failure to be dressed to our satisfaction, including make up, will result in the photos being posted by snail mail and on line.' Below this was his parent's address. He knew that 'Wild Winds' was the house further on from his, after that the third house on the trio was called 'Oak Leaves' He couldn't believe what was happening. He opened the box to find a dress, various accessories and shoes with five inch high heels. The dress was primarily black satin but all the accessories were white except the panties that were bright red. He looked at the pictures again, trying to think of an explanation that his parents would accept but could think of none. Reluctantly he took the box to his bedroom and unpacked what he could then see was a very elaborate and good quality maid's outfit but he could see that it was going to be very revealing and uncomfortable. Not only the heels, a lace up corset was included and he could immediately see by the dress's waist it was needed in order for him to be able to do it up. He looked again at the letter and the photos. With no choice he stripped to his gaff and breast forms and started to put the corset on, wrapping it round his torso and fastening the heavy duty busk front. He pulled on the laces as hard as he could and tried the dress for size but found the laces needed to be tightened more. Just then he saw a large hook with a screw end with instructions to fit it into a wall, the door frame was suggested. He followed this, going on to back onto it, lifting the lace near the top of the garment over the hook, then leaning forward to use his body weight to further tighten the corset. He had to repeat that four or five times, hooking different parts of the lace, in order to get it tight enough. After that he had to loosen it in order to be able to bend forward to put on the sheer black stockings and the shoes, which he noticed locked onto his feet automatically, when the ankle strap was done up. He was getting exhausted by all the physical exertion by the time he had retightened the corset and got the dress finally done up, especially as he wasn't able to take anything but the shortest of breaths. He pulled on the panties and realised that he would have to be very careful not to let the skirt lift up in the slightest. Having taken so long though, he hurriedly pulled the crinolines up under the skirt which was so short it barely reached his crotch and held the skirt out almost horizontally. He realised that having red panties contrasting with the white crinolines was deliberately done to make them stand out if he flashed them. He finished the ensemble with a small frilly white hostess apron and a hat made of the black satin material but with white lace round it and two long black ribbons that would hang down his back. He checked himself in his full length mirror and thought how much he would have loved the outfit if it hadn't been the duress he was under. As everything looked perfect, he took as deep a breath as he was able and went carefully down the stairs, balanced as he was on the stilt-like heels. Although he looked more than passable, he had the light, short build and fine features of a girl, he'd never dared to leave the house grounds while he was dressed. Now for the first time he didn't have a choice. He placed the lipstick he'd used, powder compact, tissues and keys in a small clutch bag he had, then opened the front door. He looked carefully round dreading someone being there, but as usual the area was deserted. As he stepped outside he was shaking so much he could hardly grip the door to close it behind himself. The sound of the click as it locked him out nearly made him sick. He urged his reluctant body into motion, the sound of his heels sounded to him like gunshots and his legs felt like jellies as he walked down his path to the footpath leading to the other houses. He felt eyes on him from every bush and tree. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He felt everything as he walked, especially the breeze playing with his legs, causing as much of an erection as his gaff would allow, giving a lie to how much he was in dread. The identical houses were set quite a long way apart but the hundred metres or so, actually seemed more like a thousand before he eventually got close to his destination. Of their two footpaths he took the nearer one that, like his, led to the side of the house and thus to the back door. On the one hand he would be relieved to get off the street, private though it was, on the other he was in fear of what was about to follow. He made his way round as quietly as he could to find the back door open. He called out but there was no reply so he took a chance and stepped inside. On one of the work surfaces was a large tray with four plates holding what he assumed were small squares of pat(, some salad and four slices of Melba toast. There was a note on the tray: 'Dear Violetta (that's your new name dear) Please bring this tray to the dining room and serve the dishes. By order of your Mistress and Master.' Now even more confused and worried, he picked up the tray and carried it through to the room that was the same layout as his own house, the dining room. He wasn't sure what to do so to be on the safe side he knocked and he was told to enter by a woman's voice that he was pretty sure was the same one that delivered his parcel. With some difficulty he managed to open the door with one hand and enter the room carrying the tray. "There, you see?" the woman asked the other, he recognised all four persons there as the Jenkins and the Hardwicks, owners of the two other houses. "Violetta's going to make a lovely maid once she's been trained." "She looks half trained already Eileen," Joyce Hardwick replied. He handed out each of the dishes to the neighbours at the table, then was unsure what to do. Eileen Jenkins realised this. "Just stand against the wall there, Violetta, ready to top up our drinks or get anything else we want." "She certainly makes a pretty girl Eileen," Malcolm Hardwick commented between mouthfuls. "She will," Brian Jenkins told him ominously. Violetta stood where he was told and had to listen to their conversations about him as if he wasn't there. At least it took his mind off the discomfort he was suffering from his compressed waist and the sky high heels. When they'd finished with that course, he was given a second instruction sheet by Eileen, this one telling him to grill some steak that was ready in their 'fridge along with vegetables and jacket potatoes that he'd also find and needed heating. He collected their plates and returned to the kitchen where he did as he was told, returning with their main course. Again he stood by watching them eat, occasionally topping up the occasional glass until it was time to replace that course with a sweet, all ready again for him to serve from the refrigerator. At the end of the meal they had him make coffees which they took in their lounge, then they had him come in and stand before them. Mrs Jenkins was holding an envelope. "I expect you want to know what's going to happen to you Violetta?" Eileen posed it as a question. "Yes," he answered. "'Yes Madam' is the correct answer Violetta," she told him. "Yes Madam." "The four of us wanted maid service in our homes but these houses are so remote, it's difficult to get someone to do the job. We've noticed that as well as your...what shall we say...your hobby, at the same time you appear to have no gainful employment, so we made a few enquiries about your background and decided you would make the ideal employee. Well, I say employee, but of course technically you're going to be a slave because we have no need to pay you. However the choice is yours. If you decide to go ahead you will accompany my husband to his clinic where he will provide your body with parts more suitable for your position, for example he will give you breast implants, not huge but to obviate the need to wear that padding. You already know what will happen if you decide not to go ahead." He stood there shocked by the proposal she'd made to him. "What would I have to do...Madam?" he wanted to know. "Oh, absolutely anything we tell you to do Violetta, without hesitation let alone argument. I expect some things you will quite enjoy but others you will not, but while your enjoyment is of little interest of us we realise that it would be better from your point of view if you can at least enjoy some of it." "Oh." He lapsed into thought, but realised that blackmail gave him no alternative. "Well, what are you going to do?" she asked after a minute or so of silence. "I have no choice." There, he'd said it. "Good, and by the way, these are a few things to add to your family album." She handed the envelope to him. It wasn't sealed so he had a quick look. There were more photos, this time of him working in their kitchen and serving at their table, in his maid's uniform. They obviously had spy cams in their house, so they had got a belt to put on with their braces. The pictures they had chosen were just as he looked as if he had at least a slight smile on his face, no one would doubt that he did this to himself if they didn't know any better. "Now go and clean up in the kitchen Violetta, then go home and deal with anything that you need to because for the next three days you won't be there," Eileen told him. "You need to be back here in a nice skirt suit or casual dress at eight tomorrow morning. Here are the keys to your shoes." As he did as he was told, Violetta thought about what was happening. He came to the conclusion that if it hadn't been for the worry about word of it getting back to his family, he would have quite enjoyed it so far. He had a slightly masochistic nature, he thought that probably most cross dressers had it to some extent, so the idea of having to dress as he was and be subservient with it, was actually a bit, make that a big turn on. But two worries occurred to him, firstly he felt guilty about having these feelings, but more importantly, what did they mean by altering him? He knew Jenkins was a doctor but he didn't know what sort, were they thinking of feeding him hormones? The only thing he knew for sure was that whatever they had in mind for him he didn't have a choice, he'd have to comply. Anything else would at the least lead to him being ostracised by his family and at worst would kill his mother by the shame of seeing the photos. The next morning he presented himself at the required time, in a nice pastel blue two piece skirt suit. Mr Jenkins had him get into his Mercedes and drove for about fifteen minutes, turning into the drive to a private clinic. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked. "I'll explain once we're inside," was the unhelpful reply. He opened the back door with a magnetic key and combination lock, took him along a corridor into a consulting room. The name 'Dr. Brian Jenkins' was on the door he noticed before he took the offered seat. "I'm going to explain what we do here, Violetta, but I don't want you to panic. We actually do complete gender reassignment operations but sometimes, as in your case, you're just going to be made to look like a woman. It will be entirely up to you if you want to take it further later. We are going to permanently de-nude your body and face of hair by means of lasers, that will be permanent, but I presume you wouldn't mind that anyway. Exceptionally, we'll leave you a neat little triangle of pubic hair just like a woman would have. Apart from that everything else we do will be reversible. Are you content enough to go ahead with this, or do you have any questions?" "There is one question that springs to mind," he said, "why are you doing all this to me, the blackmail and everything?" "That's mainly down to my wife and Joyce Hardwick." He took a slow breath. "They have shall I say, some unusual tastes. They don't want to do anything that will really harm you, although you may not enjoy some of the things they have in mind and to be frank, both Malcolm Hardwick and myself get a bit of a kick out of it ourselves. Add to that the knowledge that much of the time you'll love what they want to do and you end up with the position we're in. Now remember I'm a doctor and I have certain responsibilities to my patient, that's you in this case, I won't do anything permanent against your will. Knowing all this do you want to go ahead or do I tell them to call the whole thing off and I call you a cab to take you home?" "What about the blackmail?" "If you don't want to go ahead at this stage I'll tell them to destroy all the pictures. However, if you do go ahead it will signal that you agree to go back to their previous arrangement so if you behave the way they want they won't need to send the pictures, will they?" This sudden change of attitude floored him for a moment, he hadn't thought he was going to have any choice and now he could just walk away. He thought back to the day before, how much better it was not to just skulk around in his house or back garden. He didn't hesitate for long. "Go ahead, so long as it's not permanent." "You're alright with only the laser treatment that's permanent?" "Yes." There, he'd said it. He was committed and he didn't even know what it was to. He was given a document to sign in front of a woman that he assumed was the doctor's secretary. That done he was led out of that room to one that was more like an operating theatre, with a padded table which he lay down on and was raised towards a powerful lighting array. Three women came in and turned the lights on, temporarily blinding him. "I'll leave Violetta to you," was all the doctor said and left. The women said hello to him and introduced themselves to him, but he was too preoccupied removing his clothes to remember. They plugged in devices to sockets in the side of the table while one of them gave him some very dark goggles to put on, so dark that he could barely see the lights above him. They first used a solvent to remove his breast forms then started to work on him. He could then sense and only occasionally feel them working on his body. They were so gentle he was soon asleep, so it didn't seem long before they had him turn over. His face down position was less comfortable, so it took much longer as far as he was concerned, for them to do his back even though it was actually much quicker. He was a little bit red after they'd finished but they rubbed a flowery smelling oil over him which was very pleasant, then one of the women gave him a short and inadequate wrap to cover himself. She stayed with him for a few minutes, until another returned and told them that the doctor was ready. She cleaned him with an alcohol based wipe over his chest, another his face and a third round his genitals, then gave him an injection in his arm. "That's a pre-med to make you feel drowsy," she told him. They helped him off the table onto a wheelchair, taking him out of that room to another, similarly furnished but with much more equipment round the table. He rapidly became less aware of his surroundings and was asleep soon after they helped him to lie down again. When he woke he was in a strange bedroom and it took him a moment or two to remember where he was a what was happening. His face felt numb and he had something wrapped round his chest and bandages down to his hips and between his legs. Before he could explore, the door opened and a new nurse walked in. "Hello Violetta, how are you feeling?" she asked brightly. "I've only just woken up so I'm not sure yet." He was returning her smile. "What time is it?" "It's eight in the morning dear." "I've been out since yesterday?" "Oh, no dear, we've kept you sedated for nearly forty eight hours, today's Wednesday and if all's well you'll be discharged this afternoon but in the meantime you've got to stay where you are." "Can I have a look to see what's been done?" he asked. "I'll go have a word with Doctor dear, I expect he'll be along to see you shortly so you'll have to just anticipate." He had to be patient for more than an hour, during which time he could only examine the size of his breasts from above. They seemed enormous and very sensitive when he only touched the outside of the dressing, in spite of it being made of many layers of a fairly thick material. Finally Brian Jenkins walked into the room. "Ready for the grand unveiling?" he asked briskly. He helped Violetta to sit up, he was very weak and still a little groggy. The doctor opened his bedside cupboard and produced a bra that he could see was a very large cup size. He placed it alongside him on the bed and cut down through the top part of the dressing with a pair of scissors. Violetta gasped as the weight of his new breasts pulled down on his chest as they came into view. Jenkins quickly helped him on with the bra, telling him that he had to keep wearing one for a few days at least. "Do you like them Violetta?" he asked. "They're a nice generous 36DD's, not too large but enough for everyone to know you've got them, especially with the liposuction of your waist." Violetta wasn't sure about that, his falsies had been the equivalent of D cups and these seemed huge by comparison. "How am I going to wear my proper clothes?" he wanted to know. "I don't think you realise Violetta, your uniforms are going to be your proper clothes and if you need to do any shopping or socialising in future, you'll have to present yourself as a woman. I'm sure you'll love it." He wasn't so sure, but a much bigger surprise followed. When, with a mixture of cutting and unravelling, the rest of his body came into view. With some difficulty he looked down between his legs and squealed with fright. There was nothing there. He felt with his hands and felt the slit and a short length of cord coming out of it. "I thought you told me you weren't going to do anything serious?" he asked. "Don't worry about your marital equipment Violetta, it's still there, just buried so you can have it back as soon as we've finished with you. I've embedded a tampon cord so if anyone sees it you'll look as if it's your time of month," Jenkins answered him. "Let me help you up and you can see yourself in the mirror." With a great deal of difficulty he stood shakily and the doctor helped him in front of a mirror on the back of the door. With even more difficulty he had to be helped back onto the bed. The shock of seeing the way he had changed caused his legs to buckle under him. Quite apart from his bust, his waist seemed to have several inches taken off of it and the same number had increased his hips. Below his little triangle of pubic hair was a very clear slit of a vagina, but his face had changed as well. It wasn't long before he realised that it was mainly an effect caused by make up, giving him wide eyes and prominent cheek bones, but his swollen lips were not just make up. They were undoubtedly the type known as 'cocksucker's lips', large and a very bright purplish red. His hair, which he had previously styled in what he thought of as tasteful, was changed from light brown to platinum blonde with gaudy pink highlights, and fell in waves around his face and over his shoulders. "Did you like your violet eye shadow?" Violetta ignored the question, he hadn't noticed it among all the other changes. The doctor carried on talking as if nothing unusual had happened, telling him that the make up they'd used was called permanent, but would need refreshing every couple of months and in any case would wear off over time. "I've got my cosmetologist coming in again shortly to fit you up with some nice looking nails, then I can give you a lift when I leave." In fact the woman arrived just a few minutes later to spend time trimming then roughening his nails before gluing on the false ones that were already coloured and reached nearly an inch beyond his natural ones. She varnished his toenails the same colour which also matched his lipstick. Violetta would have said something to her about how tarty he now looked, but was actually too shocked to think of it. The woman showed him how to plait his hair, so that it would be more hygienic if he was doing anything with food. She pointed out that it would also look tidier and left it that way for when Jenkins collected him to take him home. He'd only dressed with some difficulty but fortunately the blouse and skirt that he'd chosen to wear there were previously loose on him. Now they were now extremely tight over his new bust and behind, the exception being that it was looser round his waist, so after he had just about managed to wriggle into his skirt, the large fasteners were easy to do up, in spite of his crazily long nails. The trouble was that in spite of the shock he'd suffered when he'd seen what had been done to him, when he looked in the mirror again he found he was turning himself on. He had snapped himself out of it by the time the doctor had collected him and he was faced with the reality of going out in the real world. Instead of delivering him to his own home, they pulled into the doctor's garage and he was left with no choice but to get out of the car. Eileen Jenkins welcomed him back and told him how pleased she was with his new look and that he should follow her. Up in their smallest bedroom she showed him his uniform and helped him to put it on. It still included a lace up corset, even smaller in the waist this time, and the cups built into it pushed his breasts up to obscene levels. His panty was a tiny g-string, coloured violet, as was the dress, 'to go with your name' she told him. The underclothes, including the crinolines were otherwise snow white, meaning that the slightest mistake on his part either showed off the front of his g- string, his bare bottom or exposed his nipples. These latter, now they were away from the confines of the clinic's bra, were not only already becoming puffy, they were sensitive to the point of distraction for him. When he winced as he touched them, Mrs Jenkins noticed and explained. "You'll find those get wonderfully sensitive Violetta, my husband has treated them to a form of hormone that will make them much larger as well." She smiled at him. "Isn't he clever?" Violetta was non-committal, he was already finding them too much of a turn on. "Don't forget to keep your lips well glossed. You don't have to worry about any other make up, but you have to keep them nice and shiny," she whispered conspiratorially. "It makes them look beautiful to tempt the men, and some of us women come to that." After she had helped him on with the white stockings, violet five inch heeled shoes and silly little cap and apron again, she declared him ready for work. "It's the same procedure as the last time you were here Violetta, Mr and Mrs Hardwick are here again and they're looking forward to seeing the new you." She had him check himself in the mirror inside the closet door, upon which he started to get blue balls he was so turned on, especially when he turned to view his back only to see that the crease under each buttock was completely exposed below the crinolines. The string of his panty was buried in his crack, so didn't look as if he was wearing any from the rear. What worried him though, was that he couldn't feel any response from his penis. He expected that it would pull on its camouflaging scrotum, but there was no such reaction. He was given no time to ponder this though, Eileen Jenkins hurried him down to the kitchen to open a bottle of Champagne and serve it in four glasses to their lounge for them to have as an aperitif. As he walked in both the Hardwicks roared with laughter. "Violetta would be winner of the Miss World for Sissies," laughed Malcolm Hardwick. Violetta blushed so much it was visible through his make up. Mrs Jenkins gave him instructions for the meal, the starter and dessert were ready in the 'fridge and for the main course he was just told to grill salmon fillets and heat some asparagus and new potatoes. He followed instructions until he got to the salmon course. When he'd looked for the fish he'd noticed a three quarter full bottle of white wine and it didn't take long to find eggs, white wine vinegar, lemon juice and butter, made a quick decision and returned to the dining room. He stood there until Eileen asked him what he wanted. "May I cook the fish a little differently Madam?" he asked. "If you think you can, go ahead," she replied, much to the amusement of them all. His thinking was that if he acted as a good sport, perhaps they would go easy on him and to that end he indulged in his hobby. Of necessity an unsociable person, being dressed unsuitably he felt, to go out in public, he had become interested in cooking so it took him little time to peel and cut into small pieces some potatoes. While they were boiling he knocked up a Hollandaise sauce, parcelled the fish in foil with white wine and herbs, briefly microwaving the asparagus. He'd noticed some metal rings, so mashed the cooked potato and pressed it into the rings on the plates that he'd warmed and for garnish he topped it with a very small group of lumpfish roe, a pot of which he'd also found. He then added the fish and asparagus, drizzling the Hollandaise over and around. He used a hostess trolley to keep them warm and transport them to the dining room to serve the diners. At first taste they all delighted in the perfect way they were cooked. "That's one thing we won't change about her," Brian said with a smile. On hearing that comment Violetta worried what they had in mind to change about him, he didn't have to wait long. After they'd had dessert they moved into their lounge and called him in. "After you've finished cleaning up here Violetta, you are released for the night," Eileen Jenkins told him. "Tomorrow morning at eight thirty you are to report to Mrs Hardwick in 'Oak Leaves' and you will work there all day, cleaning and preparing their evening meal. We were going to just have you alternate days but in view of the dinner this evening, you are to cook tomorrow night's meal for all of us again, we want to know the extent of your abilities in the kitchen. If they are as good as the example tonight we have decided to change our plans for you slightly." He did as he was told with a strange mixture emotions. One the one hand it looked as if he would be stuck as a maid to his neighbours, with the constant fear of pictures of him being sent to everyone he knew. On the other, wasn't this something he'd had wet dreams about? He wasn't guarded at all, he could walk away at any time but then what? If he went to the police there was nothing to prevent his blackmailers going ahead with their threats, there were bound to be other copies of the incriminating material. They could be in a multitude of places, including remote storage of data like the 'cloud' or even simple memory sticks that could be hidden anywhere. In the end he slept better than he thought he was going to and actually enjoyed getting dressed in the morning. Arriving at a few minutes early, he crossed paths with Malcolm Hardwick as he left for work and he couldn't miss the smile and wink on the departing husband's face, as he told him to go straight up to the master bedroom to help his wife dress. When he got there she was still in bed, sat up, her breasts playing hide and seek under her very sheer nightdress. Her nipples were engorged in the obvious anticipation of her intentions towards him, something he knew he wasn't in a position to enjoy himself. "Have you ever given a girl a good time with your tongue Violetta?" she asked him in a low and very seductive voice but gave him no chance to reply. "Take your dress off and get under the duvet and get between my legs." As he undid his hostess apron and stepped out of his uniform, she pulled back the duvet, explaining that she wanted to watch him at work. To this end she pulled her flimsy nightdress up to her waist, slowly revealing her sexy body to him. The effect of her revelation quickly gave his blue balls, her crotch was smooth and bald, her labia lips glistening and a little red. Some time before, when Violetta was Victor, he'd had a girlfriend who liked them to go to '69' as a prelude to sex. She'd taught him what she liked so he knew he could do what she asked, but tried one last way out. "What about your husband?" he asked. "Don't be silly girl, he knows both Mrs Jenkins and myself like a little lesbian time and as he doesn't like to do this he's only too pleased if you do it for him. He also knows that your on your period," she laughed and indicated the string, "such a shame you can't enjoy a little sex session but it's one of those things us girls have to put up with." Without further excuse he crawled up the bed and pushed his fingers under her shapely legs at the point they became her buttocks, lifting her close to his mouth. He started by licking each of her inner thighs, slowly working his way towards where she wanted him. As her passion increased she lifted herself for his urgent ministrations he moved his hands apart, cupping her buttocks, then he raised her further and licked up from her perineum to just the base of her entrance, then doing the same again, teasing her. Each time he came a little closer until by the time he entered her, just slightly, he felt her shudder. Then he treated each of her lips before again entering her, massaging her buttocks at the same time. Then he teased her again, withdrawing every time he knew she was close to climax. It took him more than twenty minutes before he finally allowed her to finish, gratified to hear her scream her head off. As she was both hot and perspiring and his face was sticky, Joyce used the excuse to have him shower with her even though he complained to her that he was getting painfully frustrated. "I must say that Brian Jenkins is an amazing surgeon Violetta," she told him, "if I didn't know better I would have sworn I was showering with another woman." "Can you imagine the shock I had when I first saw myself?" he replied. "Don't you want to transition completely?" he was asked as they were drying each other. "Absolutely not, I'm quite happy with the equipment I've got, well, at least when it's not all tucked away." They both laughed as she helped him dress in his uniform. "Now you must remember your place girl, now you're back in maid mode," she told him and got some things out of her bedside drawer. "This is a little reminder for you." She had him bend over, pulled his g-string down and put a lubricated finger into his hole. He jumped but had to remain still as she put more lubrication in there before she started to push something cold in to replace her fingers. For a moment it was starting to get quite painful but then with a sudden 'plop' his sphincter closed leaving him with a very full feeling. "You can leave your panties off girl, that plug will give you a nice wriggle and you'll have to be careful not to show anything you shouldn't." She was right about a wriggle. With the way he had to walk in order to not show he was going 'commando' and with his backside feeling very peculiar, he walked in a very feminine looking manner. When he asked her about it, having politely asked if he could speak, she told him that it was to train him and he would be fitted with larger ones as he got used to them. She refused to tell him anything more. He spent the day cleaning 'Oak Leaves' and preparing the evening meal for his four neighbours, only pausing to serve Joyce a light lunch, he ate his own on the go. He was amused to overhear part of a telephone conversation between her and Eileen Jenkins praising his oral skills but only caught a little of it as he was passing their lounge. He was quite proud of the meal he prepared for his four neighbours, having found that, just like the Jenkins, the Hardwicks had a well stocked larder, fridge and freezer. They had told him that they left it entirely to him what he cooked. In the event he'd discovered, right at the back of their larder, a tin of escargots and among their utensils properly designed indented ovenware, to both cook and serve them. He first had to removed the labels from the latter as they'd obviously never been used. For the main course he found a large duck in the freezer that he had to speedily defrost, serving it with a plum and chilli sauce. For the sweet he knocked up some microwaved meringues to make an Eton mess with strawberries and cream. They had a good stock of cheeses and wine for him to complete the meals. The food went down even better than he'd hoped but the behaviour of his neighbours was worse than he'd dreaded. "You have to pay the price for having sex with my wife," Malcolm Hardwick told him with a laugh as he served the main course. "Slide under the table and between my legs." He gave him the last plate and, only half believing what he was doing, got down on his hands and knees to crawl under the table next to the man who immediately opened his legs. "You know what your penance is girl, don't you?" He guided the maid's head between his knees and undid his zip. Violetta realised that he didn't have a choice, he realised that if this was the part they had warned him that he wouldn't like, they were correct in spades. He'd never had the slightest inclination to go with a man except through a certain amount of what he realised was fantasy humiliation as part of his make up. Now he was faced with the reality. He slowly took the Hardwick's member out of his trousers and tentatively played with it, delaying what he realised was the inevitable. The only compensation he had was to see that the penis in front of his face wasn't nearly as big as his own, even once fully erect. Violetta slowly took it in his mouth and started to work on it. He was pleased to find that at least it was clean and smelled, at least in part, of a talc. He didn't dwell on the under aroma as its owner cautioned him about being able to feel his teeth. He'd only ever had the one girlfriend in his life that gave him blow jobs but tried to remember everything that she did for him at the time. He was just starting to panic that it was going to go on for hours when he felt everything around him tense and the next he knew the man's revolting fluids were about to go down his throat and he struggled to swallow as fast as he could. He could feel the viscose liquid in his mouth with some spilling from the side to dribble down his chin. There was no option for him but to quickly scramble up to arrive, not quite in time, to throw up in the kitchen sink. After he'd cleared up the mess there and on the floor he returned to the dining room to find that, to his surprise, everyone was concerned about him. It wasn't until later he realised that the men were only concerned that he wouldn't be able to fulfil the service position they had planned for him. After he had served them digestifs and cleaned up the rooms they had used, they released him for the night, subject to his 'clocking on' at 'Wild Winds' at eight thirty the following morning. Brian Jenkins gave him a plastic box with bags, tubes and bottles of liquid, telling him that he must not take the butt plug out until the morning then should use the bag's contents to give himself an enema and then replace it. He didn't sleep well. He was kept awake most of the night trying to work out a way he could escape the trap he was in. The only thing he could think of was to somehow move away overnight, sell the house and try to find somewhere else to live. It wouldn't stop has blackmailers sending the pictures of him to his family, but at least they would have nothing to gain by doing so. Except revenge. That was something he couldn't be sure they wouldn't want to take. It didn't stop him from obeying his instructions with the enema and being at the Doctor's house on time, finding that his duties there were much the same as the previous day. Dr Jenkins had already left for work and his wife Eileen greeted him in her negligee, not wasting any time before she took him upstairs to her bed. She seemed even more impressed by his oral skills than Joyce, at least he judged that by the volume of her screams each time he let her finish. Two hours later they had just finished showering when she removed his butt plug, only for him to be rather shocked when she replaced it with a larger one. "Mrs Hardwick told me that it was just to give me a nice wriggle as well, Mrs Jenkins, but I'm afraid I don't believe either you," he told her. "It's not for the maid to question her mistress, girl." And a swat of his backside was all he got in reply. That evening he only had the two meals to prepare for the Doctor and his wife and after he had cleaned up, was allowed home for the evening on the understanding that he was to return to Oak Leaves the following day at eight. As he lay in bed that night he considered his situation for the umpteenth time. If it hadn't been for the incessant blue balls he was suffering, he would have been thoroughly enjoying himself. When he recommenced maid duty the following morning he discovered a note in the kitchen addressed to himself: 'Please report for duty in the master bedroom.' With an ominous feeling he made his way up to the bedroom he knew well. There he found Joyce, still in bed and as naked as the day she was born. "Oh, Violetta, you've just arrived on time," she giggled, "I need you for a repeat performance. Don't undress, just remover your panties." She pointed between her legs, as if he didn't already know what she had in mind. He had to just lean over the end of the bed as she had positioned herself half way down it, something he gave no thought to until a few minutes later. He was more troubled at that time by being aware that it hadn't been so long since she'd had sex with her husband. As he started to use his tongue on her sensitive region he noticed the viscose white fluid that had started to leak from her and, although he delayed as long as he could, he inevitably found that he was cleaning it out of her with his tongue. His mind connected the taste with his illness the previous time he had it in his mouth, but its dilution with the woman's juices and the arousal of his position enabled him to cope with knowing what he was doing. By sticking to his task he soon had her crying out in the throws of her first orgasm and at least after that he could continue without thinking of what he had swallowed. "Concentrate on what you're doing," Joyce told him. He'd just faintly heard someone else enter the bedroom then felt the butt plug, which was clearly on display in his uncovered, bent over position, slowly being pulled out. He tried to keep his thoughts on what he had been instructed to do as the plug was soon replaced by another implement, this one warm. Joyce's husband Malcolm gripped him by the waist with both his hands and started to pump into his rear end. In order to maintain his position with the woman's sex, he in turn had to hold onto her to stop himself being either pulled away or pushed too hard into her. It was now that his enforced chastity for several days, while performing the ultimate in arousing tasks, that made him susceptible to reaction when his prostate was being massaged in this way. Joyce screamed and Malcolm grunted loudly as they were pushed over the edge, Violetta himself climaxed and would have vocalised the same if his mouth hadn't been buried deep in Joyce's pussy. The three of them collapsed on the bed. The maid's next reaction was disgust and humiliation at what he'd done but this was dispelled, at least for the time being, by the infectious laughter from the couple which he couldn't avoid joining with. By the time they had all showered, or in Joyce's case bathed, then all of them had dressed, he had managed to push any thoughts about what he'd done to the back of his mind. He was sent to their kitchen to prepare their breakfasts and he was then strictly back into maid mode. The rest of the day passed with him cleaning and working on lunch and dinner for the couple with no further reference made to the bedroom antics of the morning. That was until he had cleared away the dinner debris. He had noted that both husband and wife had drunk a great deal during the meal and Malcolm continued with 'one more' Cognac before he came to bed. It was an already rather drunk Joyce that asked him to come with her to the bedroom, ostensibly just to help her undress. It wasn't long though before he was between her thighs but as he lay there, in the same position as that morning, he had a horrible feeling that he knew what was about to happen. Fully dressed in his uniform but without his panties, leant over the end of the bed indulging Joyce, he'd never felt more vulnerable. Because of his confusion of the feelings he had when he had earlier been brought to a climax, he lacked the concentration on his job in hand, he kept waiting for a movement behind him. He knew something was likely to happen at his rear end but he kept to the task in front of him. It wasn't long before he felt Joyce tense up then give a full throated cry as she came. He expected to have to go into round two but after a few minutes he was getting no reaction so lifted his head. Joyce was sleeping with a smile on her face. He got up carefully, so as not to disturb her and made his way back downstairs to clean up after the meal he had served. He found Malcolm Hardwick collapsed on the floor. He had several thoughts very quickly. The first was to check for a pulse and he found none, he turned him on his back and started resuscitation using all his strength to push down on the man's chest with both his hands together. He knew he needed help urgently and realised that if he could get hold of the Doctor at Wild Winds, he could be here much quicker than an ambulance. Knowing that when he took a call on his mobile, Hardwick took his phone from his inside jacket pocket. He briefly stopped the compressions to dig it out and quickly found the Jenkins' number in memory. Dialling it and putting the phone onto loudspeaker, he resumed with his first aid. "Hello Malcolm," he heard the Doctor's voice, "what's the problem, too much sex, has the maid worn you out?" "Get here quickly Doctor," Violetta shouted, "Mr Hardwick's collapsed and there's no pulse, the back door's open." The Doctor was so quick arriving Violetta realised that he must have run all the way, not even stopping to change out of his slippers. He quickly summed up the situation and having been told that the maid hadn't called the ambulance, did so himself. It was only after that he took over the resuscitation. "Should I wake Joyce Doctor?" he asked. "I think you should," was the opinion. He managed to explain what was happening to the half asleep woman without any unnecessary drama, but in spite of that she was in tears by the time she was alongside her husband. Violetta went to the front door to unlock it, then suggested that the way he was dressed was going to cause comments from the ambulance crew. It was agreed that he would go to the Doctor's house, tell his wife what was going on and wait for news there. They were on their third jug of coffee before Eileen and Violetta heard that Malcolm had survived. Both Joyce and the Doctor arrived back by taxi shortly after and joined them both. "You saved my husband's life, Victor," Joyce told him, using his real name and kissing him fervently. "Well done Victor," the Doctor added his congratulations, then: "We've been discussing things on the way back. All incriminating photos of you are going to be destroyed and we have an offer." "You aren't going to be blackmailed into anything, now you can do whatever you want." It was Joyce that explained. "If you want to continue as a maid you can, if you want to just dress up in what women would ordinarily wear and be our female friend, you can, or if you want to be unstuck down below and have your implants removed you can do that. In all honesty we would never have carried out our blackmail threat, I think Brian told you, almost in as many words, just before he operated on you. Mind you, we will be very sorry to lose our maid." "Do you mind if I think this through before I make up my mind?" he asked. "Take as long as you want Victor." It was Eileen who told him that, emphasising their unanimity. Although it was nearly three in the morning before he got to bed, Victor lay in bed turning over his options in his head and it was some time before he fell asleep. At ten the next morning he phoned the Jenkins and Joyce, inviting them for a brunch at his house at midday. When they arrived at the appointed time they found him wearing a light, cream coloured sun dress with matching three inch heeled court shoes and one of his hostess aprons to complete the picture of domestication. They brought news that Malcolm was to be kept in for a few days and that he was at that moment heart surgery. He finished cooking then sat down at the table to join them over a plethora of offerings all cooked perfectly. "I've been giving your offer a great deal of thought," he told them as they sat back after the meal, fully sated. "I haven't enjoyed everything about the last few days, but mostly, if it hadn't been for the worry of blackmail, I would've been having the time of my life. I must say that I was getting bored with my own company and nothing much to do but if I got a job it would have restricted my dressing up. How would you feel about me being dressed as I pleased some of the time, but still spent a couple days with each of you every week as a maid to help you clean and cook for each of you, mostly in turn but with a day off now and then to do my own thing?" "We're not going to lose Violetta?" asked Eileen. "I think Violetta is someone I'm going to be stuck with for most of the rest of my life." He returned the smile. "It's just that I would like to wear other nice clothes as well." What Violetta had laid out was quickly agreed to, grateful that they would still have the maid, albeit rather more limited in his hours. While he was getting them all more coffee, Brian Jenkins came out to the kitchen to have a quiet word with him. "The way I've stuck up your genitals might cause problems that I would have had to eventually explain to you," he said. "I'm speaking to you now as a doctor, not one of your erstwhile blackmailers. Having your testicles up in your body is not a good idea for too long at a time. It won't affect your fertility but not a lot of research has gone into any potential problems. My doing this to you perhaps gave you some enjoyment but I would have had to explain this to you after three or four weeks because you need to be unstuck to let your testicles recover for a while before they are made to disappear again. I would recommend at least a week out of every couple of months. I thought you might want to take that into account when you decide what you want to do." Violetta thanked him for the information and then a thought struck him. "Suppose that instead of what I suggested you have a maid for three weeks, then just a neighbour for one? It would be a four weekly rota rather than a weekly one." That was all decided with the greatest of enthusiasm from all concerned. * * * * * Violetta continued to serve the other two households for the next eighteen months but this status quo was not to last. Malcolm's heart gave out on him again but this time while driving home one evening, the resulting crash gave him no hope of survival. The four remaining residents of the Close were all horrified by the event and spent months grieving over Joyce's loss. Inevetably Victor/Violetta and she became very close so Brian and Eileen weren't surprised when they anounced that Joyce had accepted Violetta's proposal of marriage. A very helpful clergyman conducted the service in the grounds of Joyce's garden, only the Jenkins and Brian's brother James attended, the latter having agreed the purchase of Victor's house. James was of course privey to Violetta's secret, especially as he wore the wedding gown and Joyce wore a very feminine version of a man's evening suit. Joyce discovered that Victor's performance in the bedroom was different but every bit as good as Violetta's. The maid continued to make an apperance in the Close, adding his old house to those he had to work in, even after James married, his new wife joining in with the arrangements. All three households were able to continue enjoying a very satisfying and busy sex life.