file brought to you by - http://www.mrdouble.com ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ» º IBM Compatables Only The Exchange Must be eighteen or older º º Node One 1.2 Gigs Node Two º º (305) 928-0461 (305) 491-3598 º º USR HST 9600 Ft Lauderdale's Best USR HST 14400 º ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ ---------------------------------- GRETCH02 ----------------------------------- Chapter Five She then ordered, "You have a house to clean, so get with it!" Get with it, I did. I mopped. I scrubbed floors. I vacuumed, I dusted, I polished the furniture. I did everything necessary to clean the house until it was spotless. I even did the windows; inside, that is. Meanwhile, Miss Irene was doing exercises and practicing her martial arts. I sneaked a few minutes to peek in a watch her. Seeing her work out made me understand how she took me down so easily when I first tried to jump her, and then how she had overpowered me when she gave me the spanking, which, in fact, still hurt. I knew there was no way that I could get the better of her physically without a club or something. Occasionally, she would interrupt me in my work, force me into the dressing room and remove my makeup, and make me re-apply it. We did that four or five times during the day. The first few times it was a disaster and she had to do it over for me. The third time, so-so. The fourth time I was almost passable. At least I was getting better. She also interrupted me at lunch. I had to fix her a meal and then stand behind her while she ate, making sure her every need was fulfilled. I should also mention that she would interrupt me all during the day to serve her drinks or otherwise do her bidding. After she ate, she allowed me to eat in the kitchen. My meal consisted of eating what she had left on her plate. It may have been humiliating, but for me, it was a giant step up. For the first time since I had come into the house, I didn't have to eat off the floor. I might also mention that early on, I had complained about doing housework in high heels, pointing out that regular maids doing menial work wore low-heeled shoes while working. I argued that I could do a better job cleaning the house if she allowed me this freedom. She only laughed and replied that regular maids already knew how to wear high-heeled shoes and that housework was their occupation. But in my case, not only must I learn housework, I must also learn to accustom myself to high heels. It was also necessary to keep me aware that I must get used to accepting a subservient role and wear feminine clothes. No arguing with that. I guess it was around five-thirty when I finished. If the house was clean before, it was sterile now. It was now time to begin preparing Miss Irene's evening meal. Fortunately, I had spent some time in my wanderings as a short- order cook, so I wasn't completely lost in front of a stove. Also, the meal she ordered was rather simple to prepare. I had no trouble making it. She did mention, rather emphatically, that I had better learn to prepare more exotic foods as she and her guests enjoyed a varied menu. It was after seven before I finished preparing and serving the meal. As instructed, I stood behind her while she ate so that I would be available in case she wanted something. My meal was in the same manner as lunch. I ate her leftovers in the kitchen. Completing the cleanup, I went and bathed. I again used the sweet-smelling bath crystals and the bubble bath. By now I was starting to enjoy this part of it and thought that after I was freed, I'd continue to bathe this way whenever possible. After I bathed and dried myself, I put on a clean lace bra and inserts that I found on my crib (cage?). I had a bit of difficulty but I was getting used to the technique of snagging hooks behind me. Next was baby doll nightie and a matching short robe that barely covered my hips. The lace bikini panties were elasticized in the crotch, which held my genitals back between my legs, completely hiding them out of sight. Smearing some night cream on my face that Miss Irene told me I'd find on the dressing table, I went into the den to join her. She was there waiting for me, similarly clad. When she saw me she produced a bowl of ice cubes, a few of which she wrapped in some cloth. She told me to hold one against each ear, which I did until they began to feel numb. She then severely pinched each ear in turn and began fumbling with them, finally stepping back. "When are you going to pierce them," I asked, secretly hoping that she would change her mind. "It's already done, and the keepers are in place," she replied. We'll check them again in the morning. I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to wear any style I select for you by then." Under her close direction, I filed and shaped my fingernails and toenails, and applied a bright red polish on them. She remarked that my fingernails would look much more attractive when they grew out longer. When they were completely dry, she affixed the chastity irons about my wrists and neck to prevent me from reaching down to my crotch and playing with my genitals. She took me up to my bedroom and again locked me in my crib/cage and left me to my own thoughts for the night. And so ended my first full day of feminized captivity. Chapter Six The next day started exactly as the previous one. After being released and doing my morning necessities, I went into the kitchen and prepared Miss Irene's breakfast. This time I didn't make the mistake of thinking I was worthy of eating with her. After serving her and again eating her leftovers, I went to her room in response to her summons. She was wearing only a peignoir, not the elaborate costume she had worn the previous morning. "You will be my personal maid as well as do the housework, cook, and serve meals. You may as well start learning now. You can begin by helping me with my bath. Draw the water, warm, but not too hot. Remember to add the bath crystals on the counter." I did as she ordered, constantly testing the water, all the while hoping that she would like the temperature I selected. When the water was ready, I went in to inform her. She slipped off the robe and, well, she undulated into the bath. Yesterday, she was erotic while wearing the sexy costume. Today, unclad, she was beautiful. Her body was perfect. The pink nipples and aureoles capped her perfect breasts that rose to their full perfection. The dark pubic patch had been shaved to form a perfect heart. Awe-struck, I gazed at her as she passed me and went into the tub. She dipped her toe in the water, testing it. "It's a bit warm, but acceptable this first time. However, next time have it a few degrees cooler." "Yes, Miss Irene." She entered the tub and I helped her bathe. I washed her back, handed her the washcloth or soap or whatever she wanted. When she was through, I patted her dry with a large fluffy bath towel. We the returned to the bedroom. She turned, facing me. "Get down on your knees," she ordered. I complied. She approached me until there were only a few inches between my face and her furry patch. "You will now service me, and use your tongue," she commanded, pulling my head up into her crotch. I pushed my nose into her, and then hesitantly at first, slipped my tongue between the thick wet lips of her labia and began working it around. I found the hot musky taste of her vaginal fluids quite tantalizing. My exploring tongue moved about within her vagina. I felt her quiver as erotic sensations were being aroused within her body. Suddenly, I wanted to make her come. I wanted to orally satisfy her so that she would reach orgasm. I began driving my tongue deeper while at the same time thrashing it about within her, trying to stimulate her to greater arousal. Apparently I met with some success as her gyrations on my mouth became more frantic and the fleshy lips of her pink tunnel became coated with a thick, gooey lubricant, which I collected on my tongue. I don't know how long I, or rather we, kept it up. She kept getting more and more excited and held my face so far up against her snatch that I could hardly breathe. At that moment, I didn't care. I only wanted for her to climax into my subservient mouth. She finally gave a tremendous tremor and sighed audibly, then relaxed, satiated. Releasing my head, she ordered me to my feet. Pulling down my lace panties, she smiled triumphantly. "You're learning how to obey." I looked down in amazement. All during the whole erotic act, I had no physical arousal. My cock was still soft and limp although I was on an erotic high. "As a reward for your obedience, you have my permission to have an erection. In fact, I order you to have one." Apparently of its own volition, my cock started to obey. I could feel the blood pulsing within it. I watched it slowly engorge until within a few seconds it stood straight and stiff, pressing the front of my panties out obscenely. I can't explain it. Ordinarily I considered my cock to have a mind of its own. It would get erect in crowds, embarrassing me with its distinct bulge. At other times I'd be embarrassed for no good reason because it wouldn't come up. Now, here, in one day, this strange woman was making it do as she wished. "You are a bit repressed, aren't you?" "Yes, Miss Irene. Horny would be a better word. It's been quite a while." She handed me a pair of her panties. "You have my permission to have some relief. Masturbate yourself into those panties." "Here? Now? Right in front of you?" "Certainly. You must not have any ejaculation or erection without my permission. On the other hand, if I should order it, you WILL comply. Also, you will only have sexual arousal by my orders, unless, of course, I lend to other mistresses. Then you will obey them as you would me." I was red-faced and embarrassed. I had never been specifically ordered to beat my meat, nor had I ever done it in the presence of a lovely woman. Miss Irene stood there with a slight smile on her lips, enjoying her superiority and my embarrassment. "Well, are going to deliberately disobey me or are you going to begin?" I reached down and grabbed my cock. It felt hot in my hand. I began to stroke it. She stared intently at my activity. I gradually began manipulating it at a faster pace. It responded, beginning to throb somewhat, a bit of ejaculate lubricating it. I gradually increased the rapidity of my stroking and could feel my excitement rising. I was soon rapt with the sensations rising within me. I knew Miss Irene was still watching me, but I was no longer embarrassed. I did note, without being fully aware of it, that she was staring intently at my masturbation, her breath coming in short gasps in unison with my own. Suddenly, I knew it was time and placed the panties over the tip of my swollen cock. I closed my eyes and exploded! As I was ejaculating, I felt a cool hand over my own. I opened my eyes and looked down. Miss Irene's hand was over mine, her body was bucking, and I'd swear that she had an orgasm in conjunction with mine. She recovered her composure rather quickly, and as I was coming back to my senses she said, "Yesterday, you cleaned the house. Today is washing and ironing day. You will take your bath and apply your own makeup. Instead of a uniform, you will find a skirt and blouse lying on your bed. I want you to get used to wearing various sorts of female clothing." "When you are finished dressing and applying your makeup and feel that you are presentable, report to me for inspection. After you pass, I'll show you where the laundry is and what you have to do." Relaxed, and finally at ease with myself, I left to do as she ordered. I took my bath as directed, liberally dumping in the bath crystals and luxuriating in the sweet-smelling warm water. Completing the bath, I went into my room and discovered a complete wardrobe laid out on my bed. I put on the white nylon lace panties that were liberally embroidered with pink butterflies. The matching bra, I discovered with some satisfaction, was front-hooked, which for me was much easier to put on. The skirt portion of the slip was of a sleek white nylon. The bodice was form-fitting and all lace; even the shoulder straps were lace. The same pale pink butterflies that adorned my panties and bra were also on the slip. The blouse was pullover type with a modified 'V' neck full of lace ruffles. The sleeves were short and puffed. The cuffs were white satin with lace ruffles similar to those around the collar. The material of the blouse was very sheer, almost transparent, and the lace of the slip could easily be seen through it. The skirt was pale pink, made from a soft wool fabric. It was fully pleated and had its own self belt. The panty hose were a very light shade of beige and were very sheer, almost invisible when worn, except for the sheen that accented the pleasing appearance of my shaved legs. The three- inch heeled shoes were open-toed with spaghetti straps that buckled around the ankle. I also discovered a fine gold necklace with a tiny pendant, a matching bracelet, and a pair of pierced earrings with pendants that matched the one on the necklace. Prior to putting on my skirt and blouse, I applied my makeup. I was still far from an expert but at least by now I had a good idea as to how to apply the various cremes and colors. I selected a lipstick that would match my red nails, with a slight pink cast. I figured that would match the pale pink skirt. I also selected a very light shade of pink for my eye shadow, hoping it would kind of go with the outfit. Although I was learning to apply makeup, I still had a long way to go in learning to match colors and shades. Completing my makeup, I carefully put on the rest of my feminine clothing, then the jewelry, and finally set the wig on my head and brushed it out. Looking myself over, satisfied with what I saw, I presented myself to Miss Irene. She took one look and exclaimed, "I thought I taught you how to apply mascara. It should look natural, and each lash should be separate, not glued together in clumps as you have done." She reached into her own vanity, rustled through it for a few moments, then returned. "Here is a mascara comb. Go back and fix that mascara. When it looks right, let me see it again." I did as she directed and was surprised at how effective the little comb was. It smoothed and separated each lash, making them appear longer and decidedly more attractive. Again I presented myself to Miss Irene. This time she grudgingly approved of my appearance. I felt quite proud of my accomplishments, and strangely enough, I also enjoyed the feeling of attractive femininity that I knew I portrayed. Miss Irene wasted no time, and led me into the laundry room. "all the lingerie that is here, you will wash by hand." She then instructed me as to how to wash the rest of the items, and cautioned me to be careful of the clothes I was wearing. There were of a light color and delicate fabrics. I believe Miss Irene deliberately selected them to make it difficult. Then she left me to myself. There wasn't a whole lot of the regular laundry. A few sheets, some towels, and a load or so of wash-n-wear clothing, belonging, I assumed, to Miss Irene. There were blouses, skirts, shorts, jeans, and things of that sort. I eyed the jeans, some of them, and even the blouses, a few of which looked like they would not be too out of place if worn by a male. It put the thought of escape in my mind, but until I could figure a way out, such thoughts were useless. So I went back to the task at hand. There were no problems with washing the clothes. I put them in the washer, then the dryer, and let them go. The lingerie was another matter. There was a mountain of it. It was hard to imagine that any one person could have so many underclothes, much less get them all so that they all needed washing at the same time. My mistress much change her undies four or five times a day and go that way for a month to have that much to wash. I started the washing machine and then began sorting and hand washing the lingerie. Panties, hose, slips, gowns, bras, everything. It seemed that there were zillions of each kind in every imaginable style and color. Originally, I had thought that this would be an easy day - after all, how many clothes does one woman wear? I mentioned something about it while I served lunch to Miss Irene. "Oh, most of that lingerie belongs to friends. They asked me to have it done when they discovered I was going to get a maid." Now, how did they, or Miss Irene, know she was going to get a maid, at least me specifically? If I hadn't, by chance, accepted that ride, then been hauled off and dumped hereabouts, I'd never have been anywhere near this place. Did they have someone else in mind? If they did, then there should be two of us. Did she know in advance somehow that I or someone else would come by? Or did she have other plans, and I just happened by and caused a last- minute change? The idle comment Miss Irene made brought all sorts of questions to my mind. I even get up the nerve and temerity to ask her how they knew she would obtain a maid. She looked at me frostily and simply replied that it was none of my business. I was merely her maid and I would be better off to learn my duties rather than to worry about matters that didn't concern me. There was one hint she did give. She said that if it suited their purpose, Mistress Circe would teach me all I needed to know in order to become a better maid. "Who is Mistress Circe?", I boldly inquired. "Mistress Circe is the queen of the Sisters of Circe. She and a few of her aides will be here for dinner tomorrow night. They will judge your appearance and deportment to see if you are worthy of continued development and training." "Oh, if I don't pass, you turn me loose?" "We have said enough about this. You had better realize that what you learn, how you look and act will have a real bearing on whether you live or die. Your impertinence will also be considered in your judgment. I should add that your unprovoked attack upon me and subsequent punishment will also be considered in your final judgment. Your impertinent behavior that I am observing now doesn't help you in the judgment." I didn't need to be clubbed to get the hint. "Yes, Miss Irene," I apologized, clumsily trying to curtsy. "Is there anything else you need?" She smiled at my attempted curtsy and said, "No, Gretchen, that's all. You had better get back to work. However, it would be a good idea for you to be more graceful when you curtsy to acknowledge my orders." Rather subdued, I returned to the laundry room. From the hints that Miss Irene dropped, there was something more than me just acting as a maid for one party. It appeared that my future had but one real choice, slavery as a feminized maid. The options of death or insanity were no choices. As far as I was concerned, there was no other choice. I finally finished the lingerie and began hanging the items on lines that were strung across the room. While hanging them up, I took the opportunity to study the windows. As I should have expected, the windows were locked and had heavy grilles bolted to them. Not to keep intruders out, but to make sure the subject of feminization, me, stayed in. While I was looking over the windows, with a very faint hope of escape on my mind, Miss Irene walked in and saw me. "That's right," she said. "Every window is securely barred. I don't want my domestic help to 'accidentally' fall out and hurt themselves. And you should also know that all of the doors are steel and the locks are all electrically operated. Even if by some far-fetched chance you managed to overcome me, there still wouldn't be any way out. And the punishment for trying would be most severe." Despondently, I knew that she spoke the truth. My fate was sealed. Even if I could overwhelm my captor, I'd be trapped in the house until Mistress Circe, whoever she was, came in and found me. "Oh, yes, another thing. The telephone is fixed so that all outgoing calls are routed through the local Sisters of Circe lines." "Oh, I wasn't thinking of escape, Miss Irene. I'd never try to escape from you or to make a telephone call without your permission," I lied, going back to my chores. "I just know you wouldn't, Gretchen," she said with a knowing smile. I finally finished the wash. Miss Irene told me to leave the dainties hanging. When Miss Irene's friends came, they would pick their own right off the line. Chapter Seven Miss Irene made an inspection of the washing and ironing. After finding a few pleats in one skirt ironed incorrectly, which I had to do over, she grudgingly approved my work. She ordered me to bathe and to prepare myself wit clothes I would find on my bed. When I was ready, I was to report to the den for her inspection and scrutiny. After bathing, I went to find my clothes on the bed as I was instructed. The dress Miss Irene had chosen for me was a long sleeved gown of a sheer crepe-like material. It was peach-colored and lavishly ornamented with sequins, which gliitered and sparkled as it moved. It had a high empress-style waistline. A bright diamond-shaped pin, covered with rhinestones, was placed between the breasts, accenting the bustline. The gown was floor- length and draped seductively from my hips to the floor. It had a side slit almost to the waist which gave an occasional tantalizing glimpse of a long expanse of nylon-clad leg. The lingerie consisted of matching panties, strapless bra, garter belt, and a long half-slip that also had a side slit. The long sheer hose also had a faint peach cast to match my dress. There was a pair of shoes with at least a four-inch spiked heel in same color to match the gown. There was a necklace a pair of dangling earrings which I inserted into my pierced ears. The jewelry was pearl (I don't think they were real pearls, but they sure did look nice). Needless to say, I took extra special pains and utilized my growing skill to put on my makeup and brush out my wig. For a fleeting moment I wished my own hair was long enough for it to be femininely styled. You used to read those stories about how some guy got himself dressed up and turned out to be more beautiful and glamorous than his girlfriend. Not me. There was no way I could approach Irene's beauty or attractiveness. My reflection was that of a rather attractive young lady, one who appeared naive, almost virginal, but wanting to appear as a sophisticated young lady of the world. I suddenly realized that I was enjoying my feminization! What was happening to me? I had never had the leats desire to 'dress up' before. Now I gloried in it. In fact, I could hardly wait to join Miss Irene and hope for her approval of my girlish appearance. I decided that later I would have to analyze my feelings. Right now it wouldn't do to make Miss Irene wait for me while I pondered on this concept. With a bit of trepidation I went to meet Miss Irene in the den, stumbling a little as my heels were higher than any I had worn previously. Also, I tended to trip as I was not used to such a long skirt. Miss Irene was waiting for me, similarly clad in a long evening gown. However, where mine was of an innocent pastel color and relatively modest except for the side slit, hers was of flaming red, backless, with a plunging neckline exposing the deep cleavage between her breasts. The difference carried deeper than our appearance. I was shy, diffident, and rather nervous. Hell, I never thought I'd be forced into feminine attire, much less a glamorous evening gown. Miss Irene, on the other hand, was confident, self-assured, and well aware of the lovely vision she presented. There was no doubt that she was the dominant personality. When she saw me, she smiled, "Why, Gretchen, you look charming! Turn around and let me see all of you." I obeyed, doing a slight pirouette and replied, "Thank you, Miss Irene. I must say that you look quite attractive yourself." For tonight, let's dispense with the 'Miss'. You have docilely accepted your status for the last couple of days, except, of course, for the bit of rebellion that I effectively quelled. Other than, that, you have been quite cooperative and are adapting well to your new role. Tomorrow at this time, you'll either be dead or starting on an intensive training course to prepare you to be an obedient subject to me and other members of the Sisters of Circe." "Who are these Sisters of Circe and this Mistress Circe you keep referring to?" "I may explain to you later. But first, if you look in the freezer, you'll find two prepared meals. If you will put them in the microwave for about thirty minutes, they'll be ready. Meanwhile, I'll fix us a couple of drinks while we're waiting." Well, I did and she did. When I returned from the kitchen, she had a couple of Martinis in lovely long-stemmed crystal glasses. They were potent. I think she forgot to take the cork out of the vermouth bottle. The only thing I could see diluting the gin were the olives, and they were small. We had three before the microwave signaled that dinner was ready. In any event, I was feeling the effect of them before we started to eat. The meal was fantastic: rock Cornish hens stuffed with some sort of wild rice dressing and all of the trimmings. Its amazing what they can do with frozen prepared meals these days. After the meal we sat together on the overstuffed couch in the den. It wasn't real cold but Irene started a small fire in the fireplace. The flames began flickering hypnotically. At the same time, Irene began plying us with Brandy Alexanders. Smooth and potent. Like being hit with velvet sledge hammers. After the last few days of involuntary servitude, I was enjoying this evening immensely. Irene took one of my hands in hers. The other she draped about my shoulders, pulling me close and laying my head on her shoulder. "How do you like being a girl?" she asked softly. "Right now I'm enjoying it to the Nth degree. I feel like I have sole possession of cloud nine," I replied. Strangely enough, I did. Now, I've heard of guys getting a kick out of wearing feminine clothes and always thought of them as a bit nuts and kind of sissified. But I must say I was enjoying wearing my clothes immensely. The taut suspension of my bra and the gentle swell of my breasts when I looked down at them was very sensuous. The gossamer nylon hose seemed to add a soft sheen to my legs, and I could feel the sheerness of them when I happened to rub my legs together. Even the slight tug of my garter belt felt natural and gave me a comfortable feeling knowing that it was holding my nylons up and keeping them free of wrinkles. I decided then and there that I liked the garter belt and nylons much better than panty hose. The gown and slip felt comfortable and natural and my skin tingled where the hem dangled about my ankles. When the side slit fell apart and displayed an expanse of nylon-clad leg it added a sense of daring and a feeling of feminine vulnerability. My genitals, imprisoned by the sheer silky nylon of my panties was eroticism personified. I don't believe that I could make a movement without becoming aware of their soft and gentle confinement. I realized that I was now hooked. Even if, by some far-fetched chance, I was able to manage an escape, I would still be a prisoner to my newfound desire to wear feminine clothing for the rest of my life. Chapter Eight In any event, after starting on the second drink, I asked Miss Irene about the Sisters of Circe. "The Sisters of Circe," she replied, "is an organization of free- thinking women, aware of their superiority and dedicated to the humiliation and abasement of men as payment for the years they have suffered under masculine domination. They do this symbolically by capturing a male slave and humiliating him. This humiliation may be by feminizing them, by infantilizing them, or by training them to be pets animals. Of course, the women are not limited to these classifications. They can train their males any way they wish as long as the subject is constantly aware of his subjugation to the whims and desires of his mistress." "In fact," she continued, deviating from the subject a moment, "I know of a woman who made a bed pot out of her male slave. However, this is an extreme example and is not generally practiced." "The main purpose is not the method. It is the desire, the whim, and even the fetish of the mistress. It is to continually make the subject male aware that he is under the control of his mistress and has no free will of his own, forever!" "Yeah," I replied, "but this Sisters of Circe sounds like a pretty big organization to me. How come I've never even heard of it?" "That's not surprising. Despite everything that you may have heard, women can be very close-mouthed when necessary. There are no living ex-slaves, sane ones anyway, that may talk about our organization." "I guess it's all right now to tell you a little about us, since you won't be able to repeat it to anyone, except possibly other slaves." Here is the story she told me. She did put words in the mouths of some of the women, which may or may not be quite precise, but it did clear up several points. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ» º IBM Compatables Only The Exchange Must be eighteen or older º º Node One 1.2 Gigs Node Two º º (305) 928-0461 (305) 491-3598 º º USR HST 9600 Ft Lauderdale's Best USR HST 14400 º ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ ·