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Miss Harries was a mature spinster, an ex-headmistress, she had retired before she had wanted to, forced into it because the school governors had decided she was too harsh and draconian in her ways. Whether that was because of her upbringing or because she was born like that, the school governors thought that she was too assertive and aggressive for a modern school, where corporal punishment was no longer an option. She sneered at their weakness. She was the daughter of a shipping magnate, her mother had died when she was only a child and her father, a harsh old fashioned businessman spent most of his time travelling. When he'd died, she was left alone with a vast fortune, a huge old house and an estate to go with it. From an early age she had been brought up on the land, she had difficulty making friends, having more companionship from the estate's animals than people. By her teens she had decided she didn't like men and from that time she had dabbled with female only relationships. However, because of her dominating assertive character she had been unable to keep even those friends. One had stayed with her for perhaps as long as six months, but even she had fled in the end from their robust relationship. So where was she now? She lived alone in the big old house, the land mostly rented out to a local farmer and even though she still had some animals of her own she was grumpy and bored. Yes, she had plenty of money, but that meant little to her. She had even taken to trolling the internet in search of some friendship and mental gratification, but that was only causing her more frustration. She was fed up, she didn't feel like doing anything, the house was looking like it needed a good clean and she was in no mood to do it herself. Which was why she put the advert in the local paper. "Wanted cleaner and general help, apply xxxxxxxxxxxxxx" With any luck, she thought, as she sent the email to the local paper, with any luck she would get a nice easily manipulated woman to play with. Robert was a shy, quiet, young man, his father had left his mother when he had discovered that she was pregnant. It had been a shock to both of them as they would have been older parents and he didn't want the hassle of starting to be a father at his age. Consequently she had been a bitter and possessive mother, she put herself first and expected her son to look after her, no matter what. As a result, his schooling had suffered and because of that he left school early with very little qualifications. Not that he was stupid, it was just that she didn't allow him to learn. Having left school, she made every excuse possible to keep him home and soon he was registered as her carer. Her passing wasn't too much of a surprise, even to him, she had professed to being ill ever since he was a boy, so it wasn't unexpected. However, when it was all over and she was in the ground, where did that leave him? He had precious little income, living on the little money she had left him with, hardly enough to keep the cottage running. He had to find a job, but what job? He had no qualifications and no experience. He read the job ads every day, went to the job centre each week, applied and applied, to job after job, but not even a reply. It was Wednesday and he picked up the local paper in the library and turned to the jobs page as he did every week and half way down the page he saw it. "Wanted cleaner and general help, apply xxxxxxxxxxxxxx" He felt a buzz of excitement, a longed for hope to himself, it didn't say anything about qualifications or experience and it was only cleaning, but it was a job. He sent a reply via the newspaper that afternoon and he waited. Miss Harries eagerly awaited some sort of reply from the newspaper referral system and she was delighted when her email pinged that afternoon. So soon, she thought, someone is keen, or desperate, she cackled out loud at the fantasies that it invoked in her head. She opened the email, she was a little disappointed that there was only one reply, but then, one was all that was needed. She opened the reply and read it in growing frustration. It was from a man! She didn't bother reading any further, he had to be joking, she thought crossly. No matter, she would wait, there would be others she was sure. But as the days went by there weren't any other replies, she even took to ringing the newspaper to check if they had forgotten to send replies onto her, but no, no one was interested. It was almost two weeks later that she got round to re reading the only reply she had received, the one from a man called Robert something or other. This time, however she was in a different mood and read the reply with an element of intrigue. What was a man doing applying for a cleaner's job? Who was this man? In the end her intrigue got the better of her and she replied to him at the email address that he had included. In her reply she asked for his CV and all his details. What sort of man would apply to be a cleaner? She thought again, as she sent the message. Robert had given up on the job application and was back in the routine of job searching when the email came in. He gasped, overjoyed when he saw it, he had got an answer, that was more than he had ever got before. He read her email requesting a CV and all his details. CV? What's a CV? He thought. Well, the only thing he could think to do was to write all about himself and that is what he did. Miss Harries was surprised to get the email response from this Robert person, so quickly. It told her that this person was, as she had first thought, either eager or desperate. She opened the email and read the contents. It was written in an almost childish hand, more of an essay than a proper reply and definitely not a CV. It turned out that this man, wasn't a man at all, he was more of a young man though he sounded like a boy by his writing. He had left school at fifteen and been a carer for his mother for a few years until she had passed away earlier that year. He had precious few qualifications but among those that he did have was home economics, which was something his mother had insisted he took to aid in caring for her. Miss Harries smiled to herself as she read, this might be quite interesting after all, she thought. She waited until the next day to reply, she didn't want to appear too interested and in her reply she invited Robert to come to an interview later that week. She didn't want to hope for something that probably wasn't there at all, so for the next few days she just kept herself busy, checking on the couple of toy ponies she still had and taking her dogs out for a walk in the fields around her house. She forced herself to stay away from the internet, because she knew that she would start looking for something to do with the ideas that were even yet starting to take root in her mind and she didn't want to let that hope grow, not yet, not until she had interviewed the boy. She didn't want to be disappointed. Robert was overjoyed, he was invited to an interview, could he possibly hope that he might get the job. He prayed that he would, because if he didn't, then he had no idea how he would survive otherwise. Luckily the bus route passed by the entrance to the estate and the driver was kind enough to drop him off there, telling him where to wait and wave at a returning bus. The driveway was long, meandering, at first through high hedges, replaced closer to the house by large old trees. He rounded a corner and there it was, frighteningly large, yet also slightly unkempt. The grass was too long, the flower borders weed infested, the place gave the impression of empty loneliness. Robert took a deep breath to steady his nerves, climbed the steps to the front door and knocked. The door was huge and solid, the sound of the knocker resonating as it echoed inside. Robert stood there, in growing anxiety, doubts and worries growing inside him and he was just plucking up the courage to knock again when the door swung open. A tall fierce looking angular woman stood there. "Yes?" Robert tried to calm himself. "I, I've come for the interview," he mumbled. She looked him up and down for a second before speaking again. "Servants use the back door." She paused watching his reaction. "But for now you'd better come in." He had blushed and was half turning when she finished her sentence, then trembling he stepped into the hallway. "I, I'm terribly sorry umm Miss." "Follow me." He followed her into some sort of study, the walls lined with books. She took her place behind a desk, she felt empowered sitting there behind the desk, it reminded of her years as headmistress. He nervously stood in front of her, not knowing where to put his hands. "I read your.... Application, you looked after your mother?" "Yes, umm Miss." She was carefully taking in his body language, she could see that he was nervous and was giving the impression of being apparently submissive, that interested her. She went through the interview with the things that she had planned to ask, split fifty fifty between domestic questions, such as cleaning bathrooms, use of a vacuum and polishing and those questions to find out more about him. In the end she nodded. "Well Robert, I have to tell you that I really wanted a female cleaner. As you can see, I am a woman living here alone and I don't want any masculine jauntiness upsetting the balance of my home." She paused, assessing his reaction. He trembled, his face paled, he had felt so close to getting the job and now it all seemed to be slipping away from him. With that in mind he desperately tried to convince her that he wouldn't be any trouble and he began to babble his response without any thought as to what he was saying. "I, I wouldn't act jaunty or, or masculine at all Miss, I'd behave just like you want, Miss." She supressed a smile, she was enjoying herself for the first time in years. "You wouldn't mind being a maid?" She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. "It's not usual for a man to want to be a maid, is it?" Robert was a little confused, but if she meant a maid as a cleaner, then so be it. "No, no, I, umm, I don't mind Miss, I wouldn't mind, I'd work hard." She supressed her smile, oh this was going to be good. "I had thought to pay a new girl twelve pound per hour and I would expect as a maid she would work a forty hour week at least." She paused again, planting the seed in his mind, the seed that she knew he would never be able to resist, well aware that the wage was more than he had dreamed of. She was convinced that he would do anything to earn something like that. "I, I'd work really hard Miss and I'd learn to do whatever you wanted me to do Miss." She looked quizzical for a moment, it was all part of her act. "Hmm, ok Robert, I am not totally convinced, but I am willing to give you a two week trial and I have to tell you that there will be ground rules and expectations, understand?" Robert nodded gratefully. "Yes Miss." "Hmm, that's another thing, whilst in my employ you will call me Mistress." He nodded again, still trying to convince her that he was keen to do his best. "Yes Mistress." Showing no emotion, yet excited inside, she continued. "I will continually assess your performance over these two weeks and if you behave as I require, then I will consider making your position permanent. I will tell you about my expectations and ground rules on Monday morning and I will expect you here at eight. Remember staff use the rear entrance." With that she got up from her chair and showed Robert out, coldly bidding him goodbye as he left, whilst hiding her elation. Robert in turn tried his best to walk calmly down the drive [HJ1]doing his best to quell his excitement at not only getting a chance of a job, but a well paid one at that. Robert's weekend was taken up with getting himself ready and sorting out transport for Monday morning. In the back of his mind he was working out sums, twelve pound an hour and forty hours that's four hundred and eighty pounds a week, that's almost two thousand pounds a month! What could he do with that? Clear his electricity bill, be able to buy food, perhaps even get driving lessons, his mother had never allowed him to drive even though her old car sat there hardly used in the little garage by the house. His excitement was growing by the minute, Miss Harries was an odd sort of person, but he would really work hard to convince her he was up to the job. If he pleased her and made her happy, then all his money worries would be over and he'd be able to start a new life. He had no idea how true that would be! He wasn't sure of the bus times that early on a Monday morning and he didn't feel like having to walk, so he had to think of something else. In the back of the garage was an old bike of his mother's, it was a bit squeaky and rusty but when he pumped the tyres up, they seemed to be ok. He took it out for a trial run on Sunday morning, riding all the way to the entrance to her long driveway. It took him twenty minutes, he worked back the times and decided that if he left home at seven twenty then he should be there in plenty of time. His nerves were growing now, a tremble to his hand as the day went on and Monday morning approached. He dressed tidily, yet aware that he would probably get dirty while cleaning, then he prepared a small pack of sandwiches and with his old school rucksack on his back he set off. He was there fifteen minutes early, he had time to kill. He parked up his mother's old bicycle by an outhouse behind the big house, the sound of barking dogs unnerving him. They sounded aggressive and fierce and in truth he was scared of dogs ever since his mother had preached to him how dangerous they were. He hid by the back door, seeking some shelter if the animals got free and waited for his watch to crawl up to eight o'clock. She saw him of course, she had been keeping an eye out, wondering if he would turn up early and he had. She smiled to herself, even after the suggestiveness of the interview he was obviously keen to start. She thought of herself as a spider encouraging him to enter her trap, the thought made her chuckle. She went from window to window upstairs, following his progress around the house and she heard the dogs barking, saw his nervous reaction. The sight set her off on a fantasy that she had long held, awful plans rushing through her head. Her ex girlfriend had left her over it, but perhaps! She waited patiently for the knock at the back door and took her time answering it, he was still five minutes early, that was good. She walked down the gloomy rear corridor and opened the back door, looking him up and down haughtily, making a point of taking in his appearance. It made him blush. Doesn?t he look pretty when he blushes, she thought. "Ahh." She made a point of looking at her watch. "You?re early, good. Come in, hang your coat on one of the hooks here and follow me into the kitchen." He did as she had said and nervously followed her. On the large bleached pine kitchen table was a sheaf of A4 papers, heavily typed. She gesticulated at them. "This is an interim contract that I?ve drawn up for you, it covers the two weeks of your probation and states your pay and working hours. It also includes the points of your assessment whilst you are here and stipulates what I expect you to do and how I expect you to behave. Read it through and sign at the bottom to agree to it, there is a copy for you to take home with you and a copy for my files." She handed him a biro. He glanced at the first few lines, it appeared to him to be all legal mumbo jumbo, he didn?t have a clue what it all meant, so he turned to the back page and signed it. "And the other copy." He did the same with the other page and she in turn signed both too. "I recommend that you look after this and read it carefully when you go home, it includes working procedures which I expect, I don?t want any excuses about you doing things your way. You do exactly as the procedures state, understand?" He nodded. "Yes Miss." She looked sharply at him and he quickly corrected himself. "Yes Mistress." She nodded. "Good." The kitchen was a large farmhouse kitchen and you could see that she hadn?t bothered cleaning, tidying or washing up, there were stacks of dirty crockery on the working surface. On the kitchen table beside the papers was a neatly folded bundle of material. She pointed at it. "I am not getting you a uniform whilst you are on probation, but I want you to wear this whilst you are working for me." It was a full apron, the one that she had made her ex girlfriend wear for her before she had left her. It was lilac in colour, had frills around the hem and sides and across the bustline. The ties and the part that went around the neck were wide ribbons of a slightly darker colour. Robert picked it up, blushing slightly when he saw what it was, but in reality he wasn?t too disturbed by it as his mother had made him wear an apron all the time when he had looked after her. Seeing Miss Harries watching him, he slipped it over his head and adjusting it he went to tie the ribbons behind his back. "Let me do that for you, I want to make sure that you are wearing it correctly." She tied it tighter around his waist than he would have done it, it cinched the thing in closely around him, the skirt part almost hugging his thighs. It was short, well above the knee, he was a little taller than her ex, but she loved the vulnerable effeminacy that it suggested. "You?ll find a pair of slippers in the corridor, I expect you to change into them when you come in, in the morning, I don?t want you wandering around the house in your dirty shoes. Every night when you leave I expect you to hang your apron in the corridor and change back out of your slippers. You will put them on again as soon as you arrive back. Are you listening?" He nodded his understanding "Yes Miss, umm Mistress." "Go on then put them on." The slippers when he saw them were ladies? slippers with fluffy furry trim around them, he glanced back at her as he stood by them, he could see that she was watching him with eagle eyes, waiting. He slipped off his shoes and slid his feet into them, they were a little tight, but he did get his feet into them. That was it, he thought as he did it, she said she wouldn?t get a uniform until after he had passed the two weeks, so she was probably making do with what she had and she had said that she was expecting a female cleaner, maid or whatever. So it was all just a temporary thing and he should have expected slippers, his mother had always made him wear slippers in the house at home. She supressed her smile of satisfaction, he looked like a little sissy already, her eyes gleamed at the thought. "Right, you can start in the kitchen and when you have finished here you will report to me, I will check on your work and if I am satisfied then you can move on to the rest of the ground floor. You will find the cleaning products and the cleaner in the cupboard at the end of the corridor." With barely a backward glance she turned and headed off to her study and her computer; research was necessary now! Robert knuckled down to his work, he was a good worker, his mother had taught him well and he concentrated hard, washing up and putting away all the dishes, then cleaning the sink, there was a lot to do and time passed quickly. It was a natural pause, he would need to scrub the floors, wipe down the cupboard fronts and clean the cooker, but before he started he had a idea, something to put him in her good books he hoped. At eleven every day he had brought his mother a cup of coffee or tea, why not do the same for Miss Harries. He made his way out into the hallway and gently knocked on the door to her study, that?s where he expected her to be. There was a moments silence as he waited, then. "Come." He opened the door, she was sitting in an armchair by the window, on her lap her ipad and on the side table that was beside her, a writing pad and a pen. He didn?t know why he did it, it wasn?t planned, perhaps it was because that?s what he always did with his mum. He slid down onto his knees in front of her and looking up at her he said. "Would you like a cup of tea or a cup of coffee Mistress?" She was surprised, nicely surprised, her eyes widened, oh yes we have a real submissive little bitch here, she thought. "Yes, good, make me a cup of coffee, I take it black without sugar." She made herself look back down at her ipad, look at the page of text describing forced feminisation, he would realise that he was dismissed. Robert slipped back up to his feet and headed back to the kitchen feeling pleased with himself, I bet she didn?t expect him to think of a drink, he thought, hopefully, that was a gold star for him. He returned with the coffee in a mug and on a small tray and he carefully slid it onto the side table, doing his best not to knock the pad and pen onto the floor. "Is that ok Mistress? Can I get you a biscuit too?" She looked at the mug, it was adequate, though she preferred a cup and saucer and she told him so, he blushed. "Remember that next time." "Yes Mistress, I?m sorry Mistress." "There are biscuits in a tin in the top cupboard, I will have a shortcake." He rushed off, trying to show her his enthusiasm to do as he was told to do and returned moments later with two shortcake biscuits on a small tea plate. He barely managed to fit it on the little table and then he stood back, waiting. Again he had no idea why he did that, in his head it was all about seeing if she was happy, just like he did with his mother. She looked at him, again that haughty expression. "That will be all Rosie." She looked back down at her ipad, the mug of coffee in her other hand. Robert hurriedly left, he was confused by what she?d said, Rosie! However, he didn?t have the temerity to correct her. Perhaps her previous maid was called Rosie. Or perhaps it was just a slip of the tongue. The one thing that he hoped was that she wasn?t losing it and getting her words muddled up, he was depending on this job and it worried him, he hoped there wasn?t anything wrong with her. She smirked to herself as the door closed, the article she was reading had said select a female name for the subject and start using it as soon as possible. That had seemed very successful, all told, things were developing very nicely and this was only his first day, or should she say, her first day. She smiled widely at the thought. Robert, back in the kitchen had a little buzz of satisfaction, he was sure that the coffee episode had earned him a gold star, if he carried on like this then she was sure to make his position permanent. The next task was scrubbing work surfaces, cupboard fronts and the mucky floor. He set to with drive to continue to make her pleased with his efforts. By one o?clock he had finished and the kitchen was as clean as a new pin. He was just wondering if he should just check with her before stopping to have his sandwiches in a late lunch, when she came in through the door. Her sudden appearance startling him. "I, I?ve just finished Mistress, I was just going to call you to see if I could have my lunch now please Mistress." He smiled nervously as he spoke, she made him feel nervous, but perhaps that was because this was all so new. She looked around the room, she was surprised and pleased to see that he had made such a good job of it, yes there were little issues here and there, but generally he had done a good job at a first attempt. This was almost too good to be true, a sissy maid that worked hard and did a better than average job. Again, she stifled her smile turning her eyes towards him and that was where she saw the opening for her next attack! "Your sleeves are soaking, look at them, what have you been doing, didn?t you think to turn them up?" Robert was taken back by her strong words and he looked down at his sleeves, yes the cuffs of his jumper were wet from the ringing out of cloths and the scrubbing. He blushed and tried to pull them up. "It?s too late for that now, isn?t it? Take it off you can?t carry on working like that, come on take it off so we can get it dried you silly little fool. Turn around, let?s get your apron off, so you can do it." Robert nervously turned around and she undid the apron, allowing him to slip it off over his head, then he pulled his jumper up and peeled the wet cuffs off over his hands. "Give it to me." He nervously did so. "What about your shirt? Is that wet too?" Once again, like his jumper, the cuffs of his shirt were wet through. "It, It?ll be ok Mistress," he mumbled. "No, no, it won?t be ok, they are soaking, you can?t work like that, I won?t let my employee work in that state, now take it off. I will have to go and see if I have something I can loan you whilst we try and dry your things. You stupid little maid, that?s a black mark against you, a punishment strike already, I?m disappointed." She smirked to herself as she headed up the stairs to the bedroom once occupied by her ex-girlfriend, a joyous thrill flowing through her, she was having more fun than she had had in a long, long time. On her return she saw he was standing there, in an obviously nervous state, his shirt in his hands, his bare hairless chest partly revealed behind it. "Give it to me." Once more he did so, feeling cowed, shy and submissive. "Here put this on." She handed him a shirt of types, well at first he thought it was a shirt, though it reminded him of some of his mother?s blouses. It was a light pink colour, made from some sort of satiny type of material and it had short sleeves. He began to slip his hand through one of the short sleeves when she corrected him, dumping his shirt onto the kitchen table. "No, not like that, here, let me show you." Before he knew it, she was effectively dressing him in the blouse, but it was weird, worn back to front, it confused him. The buttons were down the back, there was a small upturned collar and it buttoned almost feeling like a dog?s collar tightly around his neck. Its constriction made him feel very odd. The thin material of the blouse, smooth down his front, his small nipples erect from the feel and showing through it as tiny bumps. She had made her ex wear it without a bra, she saw how her small breasts were tantalisingly tickled by it, loving teasing her, touching them through it, she knew how much that had affected her. Now on Robert, it created an incredibly submissive sissyish look which excited her more than she would admit. "There, that will do nicely while we try and get your things dry, you silly little fool. Now put on your apron." Again she turned him around and tied the ribbons tightly around his waist. The next stage would be to get those trousers off him, but that might have to wait until she got the uniform. She had to draw him in deeper, more dependant, more desperate, before she got to that stage. "That?s better, now make me a cup of tea, I have my lunch prepared in the fridge, bring it to me, with my tea, in my study, then you can go and have your lunch break Rosie." With that she turned on her heel and she was gone. Robert was feeling confused and worried and the blouse and the apron didn?t help, they were bringing back memories. In many ways they reminded him of his mother?s clothes and they reminded him of the feelings he had felt as she had instructed him to fold them away for her, closely watching his every move as he did so. The thoughts made him remember the drawers of her clothes that were even now still there at home. He had been unable to throw them away, and now the thoughts made him remember them again, remember the feel of his mother?s camisoles and her silky knickers. He gave a shiver, trying to supress the feelings those thoughts were giving him, embarrassed that he should feel in such a way at his own mother?s clothes. He made Miss Harries tea in the small tea pot and put it with the cup and saucer, milk jug, sugar basin and spoon onto the tray that he had just scrubbed free of stains. In the fridge was a plate with a salad on it, wrapped tightly in cling film. He carefully peeled the thin plastic from it, the film wrapping around and sticking to his fingers as he did so, then he placed the plate with the other things on the tray and adding the knife, fork and condiments, he nervously brought the tray to the study door. Resting it on the hall table a second as he knocked and waited for the response, as he was rapidly learning he had to do. After a few moments he heard "Come." And he went in with the tray carefully balanced in his hands. "Put it on my desk Rosie." It was all she said, again using that name, it only added to his confusion, was she meaning to call him Rosie? Was it like a sort of a nickname? He still didn?t have the courage to correct her so he just left the tray and headed back to the kitchen for his own tea and sandwiches. Her call was just as he had started to wash up his tea cup and he trotted off to her study once more, wiping his hands. "I expect you to check if you can take my tray and clear up afterwards before anything else, it?s something you have to remember in future." He nodded submissively. "Yes Mistress, I?m sorry Mistress." "And after you?ve washed up and tidied the kitchen again, then you can vacuum the hallway." He was dismissed, putting the dirty plates on the tray and carrying them all back to the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon went by quickly with little further contact between them until at five o?clock when he tapped once more on the door of the study. "Come." He was getting used to the reply. "I, I?m finishing now Mistress." She got up from her desk and walked out past him to look the hall over, with her customary check on his work. "Good, remember what I told you and make sure that you are here by eight tomorrow." She was about to return to the study when he nervously interrupted her. "Umm, can I have my shirt and jumper back p please Mistress?" he spoke softly almost too nervous to ask. "Oh no Rosie, they won?t be dry yet, you?ll have to go home with what you?re wearing and you can wear it when you come back tomorrow, your things should be dry by the time you finish then. Robert looked at her nervously shocked. "That?s not a problem is it Rosie?" She was testing him, her voice authoritative. He looked at her a moment, seeing the authority in her face, he knew that he couldn?t risk this job for something like this, so after a second?s pause he submissively backed down. "No Mistress." His voice was barely a whisper. She was delighted with his submissiveness, gleefully ready to push the point. "I think a word of thanks for lending you that pretty blouse, would be appropriate, don?t you, Rosie?" Robert blushed. "Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress." "Thank you for what Rosie, say it in full!" His blush grew deeper. "Thank you for lending me this pretty blouse Mistress," he mumbled. "That?s more like it, I expect manners from my maid at all times, remember that. Now off you go." The study door closed behind her and he stood there a moment worriedly looking at it before heading back to the kitchen and the corridor to the back door. It took him a few minutes to manage to undo the tightly tied apron and eventually take it off. It revealed the blouse, his appearance wearing it made his heart flutter, an odd mixture of humiliation and a tickling teasing sensation going through him. Changing the slippers for his own shoes he took his coat from the hook and put it on. It was a lightweight summer coat, he was glad of it to hide the blouse she?d made him wear, but nevertheless he found his cycle home a nerve wracking one. At home, he made himself a cup of tea and almost collapsed in relief at getting back in one piece. Sitting drinking it, the oddness of the day went through his head. She did seem to be treating him a bit like a girl, but that was probably because that was what she was used to. He was sure she would change as time went on, the job was ok, it was just like when he looked after his mum, in fact she reminded him of her in some ways and the money, well that was fantastic. For some odd reason he felt a little reluctant to take the blouse off that evening, feigning tiredness as the reason. He made his supper and eventually sat down eating whilst still wearing it. Later, heading to his bedroom, it was a struggle to take it off and at one time he thought that he would have to give up and wear it to bed, but in the end he managed to undo the buttons behind his back, though he had no idea how he would fasten them again when he put it back on the next morning. He laid it out with his other clothes on the bed in the spare room, all ready for his next day?s work, then he completed his night time ablutions. Finishing, he wandered hesitantly into his mother?s bedroom wearing only the long baggy tee shirt that he normally wore to bed. His heart was pounding stupidly as he approached one of the set?s of drawers and with a trembling hand he quietly, nervously, slid it open. The silky satin of his mother?s underwear gleamed in the light, attracting him like some sort of magnet, he couldn?t stop his quivering fingers from dipping into the drawer, touching them, his penis twitching as the touch sent electric shocks through him. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath to still his throbbing heart before shakily closing the drawer and heading for his bed and a troubled night?s sleep.