"Well, aren’t we special?" she replied, sarcastically. "Poor little Jacqui was kissed by a boy and she’s not happy about it. Perhaps she should become a nun."

"Jacqui, I’ve noticed a change in you over the past few days. Want to tell me about it?"

"I shall take Jacqui to the ball then," he said.

_______________________________________________________________

Jacqui

By

Karen Anne Summerfield and Kelly Ann Rogers
 © August 2002

Part IV - The Parties

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as we set out the silver chafing dishes, silverware, napkins, etc. on the linen covered tables in the dining room. Finally, at about six thirty, we started to arrange the platters of food Melissa had assembled.

We were so wrapped up in our work that the door chimes startled me. For a moment I could not move. Then with a deep breath, I went to the hallway, checked to see if my seams were straight, smoothed my dress and apron and opened the door with a deep curtsey.

"Good evening," I greeted. "Welcome to Ms. Martin’s home." I was shaking as I rose.

"Hi. I'm Chuck Watkins and this is my wife, Shirley. We' here for a party," Chuck informed me cheerfully, as he carefully scanned my body, his eyes eventually coming to rest on my breasts. Over all my objections, Melissa had insisted I wear a set of enhancers for the evening, so my chest swelled enticingly out of my bodice. Melissa really had made sure I looked as sexy as I could.

"I'm Jacqui. Welcome and please do come in?" I introduced myself even though my name was embroidered on my breast, just as Ms. Martin had requested.

"This way please?" They followed me down the hall to the great room at the back of the house, which faced the patio and pool.

"You are the first to arrive. May I offer you a refreshment?" I was so nervous even the way I spoke had become formal and stilted!

"I think you already have?" he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear. "Sure I’ll take a scotch and Shirley’ll have a gin and tonic, plenty of lime." He boomed that out. I had barely served their drinks to them before I was called again by the chimes.

Oh my god! I opened the door to greet Dave Crawford, my best friend, and his wife Judy. I couldn't believe that Ms. Martin had invited them! I curtseyed and greeted them, carefully keeping my head down. Then, I led them to the Great room. Carla was chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Watkins when I brought Dave and Judy into the room.

"Davy, Judy, hi!" Carla was simply stunning in a new strapless, slinky white sheath. She had obviously corseted herself (I had wondered why she called Melissa to her bedroom) and her tiny waist really set off her lush hips and ample breasts. Her dark curly hair was up, with carefully arranged 'stray' curls tumbling down here and there in a most flattering manner. There was one that dropped over her right eye and she constantly had to push it away, flashing her pale white nails and silver bracelets, many of which I had bought for her. She had long ago learned how to do her eyes to bring out the green and they were simply flashing with color that night, set off by the emerald comb she used to help hold up her hair. God, she was just gorgeous. I would have swooned at her feet had I not been so busy, but all I could do was I stop dead and stare at her for a few moments. She behaved as if I didn’t exist. She hugged the Crawford's, totally ignoring me. "I'm so glad that you could come."

"Carla, you look great, as always. Here, we brought you a present to celebrate your new house. He handed Ms. Martin a big bottle of champagne with a ribbon on its neck. She accepted the present, handing it in turn, in my direction. I was still so in awe of the way she looked that, I wasn't paying attention.

"Jacqui!" she snapped. I started, while she glared, so I moved to take the bottle.

As I left to put the present in the kitchen, I heard Carla say, "She’s a nice girl, but she's just learning." It was quite disconcerting to be treated this way in the presence of people I knew so well.

For nearly an hour, maybe more, I was very busy greeting the guests and serving them drinks. The room filled quickly. Other than asking for food or drink, none of the guests, including twenty-two from my company, and half again as many customers said a word to me. They talked to each other about topics I was very familiar with, including myself. Carla received many inquiries about John in the first minutes after new guests arrived, but after that, he ceased to be a subject of their interest. It was quite strange to be talked about in the third person and it was horrible when I heard people talk about how bad a manager I had been and how that must have been due to all the stress I had been under.

One of our customers said to Carla, "I don’t know why you ever let him talk you into becoming just a corporate wife, everyone could see he couldn’t manage such a large business by himself. I loved him, but really, he’s a technician, not a manager. You're the natural manager." Everyone nodded in agreement. I had all I could do not to cry.

With this on my mind, I hurried yet again to answer the door. Really, two maids are simply not enough for a party this size, I thought. Without really looking, I opened the door and said, "Good evening," as I curtseyed automatically to yet another guest. When I actually looked up to see who was there, my heart stopped. Standing before me was Toni Bauer, my personal assistant for the past four years!

"Hi." She was eyeing me critically from head to toe. "Toni Bauer, I'm expected."

"Yes mum, I’m sure you are." Oh God! That didn’t come out right, it sounded sarcastic. I stood aside fearfully to let her in then preceded her to the party.

From then on, things changed. Though I felt aware of all the others looking at me while I served, it was Toni's eyes, and they were really very pretty, that seemed to be constantly staring at me. I became extremely aware of her scrutiny.

"Hey baby..." Jim Wilson, head of the field department technicians, with way more than enough under his belt, cornered me behind the bar. "How's abouth a kissth for ah horney guy." His arms wrapped around me from behind - cupping and squeezing my breasts. Oh shit! I started to panic!

He kissed me on my left ear and started nibbling it.

"No, please? Just let me go." I managed to push his hands down. It did me no good. He easily spun me around to face him.

"Oh baby, your place or mine?" Alcohol breath flooded my nostrils causing me to gasp. His tongue invaded my open mouth.

His hands squeezed my ass, hurting me as I was crushed to his crotch. I could feel his raging hard-on against my steel shield. I felt so helpless! When he had reached around me, he had trapped my arms to my sides, they were of no use.

"Hey, Jim. Let the little girl up for air, at least," some guy laughed. Others were laughing too as I was being mauled and kissed. He continued for hours, well a few minutes anyway, before finally releasing me with a much harder pinch than any of the others he had given me. I squealed involuntarily and when he let me go, my hand flew to my beleaguered ass. Everyone cheered.

"Way to go!" Bill Parks said. There was laughter all about and a few of the men actually applauded. I was awash in feelings of helplessness, humiliation, and anger. I had everything I could do to keep from crying as I ran from the room. My retreat was accompanied by more applause. Hearing the commotion as I opened the kitchen door, Melissa turned. She said something, but I didn't hear what it was as my heels clattered up the steel steps to our quarters. By the time I reached our bathroom, tears were streaming down my cheeks.

It took me awhile to finally regain my composure. Why was it men thought that any girl they laid their eyes on was fair game? It wasn't right!

After I had gotten control of myself, I redid my makeup, straightened my uniform and went back to the kitchen. I needed a drink and had a beer from the refrigerator in my hand before realizing that wasn't any solution at all. A big glass of water would have to do. I drank it slowly, using the cold and the wetness to cleanse my mind. I was breathing slowly and really just about to go back to work when a hand grabbed the back of my chastity belt through my uniform.

"What's this?" said the person whose hand gripped the lock on the rear of my chastity belt. It was Toni.

"I asked you a question, Jacqui." She turned me around by my shoulders and left her hands there once we were face to face.

"It's a chastity belt," I whispered. She was staring at me intently. I had nothing to say and probably couldn't have said it even if I had. I just kept my head down, afraid even to breathe.

My assistant stared quizzically at me for several moments before a small smile formed on her face. She just gave a slight nod, and went to rejoin the party.

"If you are quite ready, there are thirty-three people waiting for you girl," Melissa offered me the tray in her hand. I started to say something, but she cut me off. "No. We'll talk tomorrow. Right now you're on duty." I just dipped and went back to work, wondering which guy might attack me next.

None did that night.

Toni made it a point to linger until last, after the party had broken up. She and Ms. Martin were talking quietly while Melissa and I cleaned the room. They looked over in my direction once or twice, so I was certain that she knew my secret.

Upstairs, Melissa repeated that she did not want to talk. I just undressed and climbed up into my bed without even saying good night. I then cried myself to sleep, making no attempt to hide my sobs. Fuck her!

As we got dressed the next morning, Melissa finally spoke to me. "You get over it yet?" she asked as she tightened my laces in the morning.

"Go to hell!" I grumbled.

"Well, aren’t we special?" she replied, sarcastically. "Poor little Jacqui was kissed by a boy and she’s not happy about it. Perhaps she should become a nun."

"You don't sound very sympathetic," I tried to be as sarcastic as I could in return.

"I'm not, Jacqui. Guys are going to find you attractive and that's the way it is. Stay out of bad places and don't be so uptight."

"Like the great room is some seedy part of town?" I countered.

"Look at me," she snapped.

"From what I hear, all he wanted was a kiss. You should have just given it to him." I stared at her in disbelief. Melissa had no idea what I was feeling.

"Melissa, he forced himself on me. He hurt me. He embarrassed me."

"Oh give me a break, Jacqui, I saw you with Delveccio. You had no problem letting him kiss you and fondle your boobs to boot. Then you walked back to the house with him holding his hand."

"Melissa! He almost raped me, I felt lucky to escape with just the fondling he gave me."

"Exactly right Jacqui. And if you had let that man kiss you last night, you would have been done with him as well. Instead you fought him and he kept after you." She sighed.

"Jacqui, you are pretty. With your small waist, your breasts and hips look scrumptious." I blushed at her compliments, although I was smiling to myself about it. "Men will see a provocatively dressed, attractive maid who acts submissively towards everyone. You look and act available and you’re in no position to object. Men will hit on you. Learn to deal with it. With the right attitude it can even be fun you know?"

I was so frustrated. Why didn’t she get it? "Melissa, I’m a guy! I don’t want to kiss other guys."

She took my shoulders in her hands and stood just to the side of me. I could see her eyes in the mirror, taking us both in. Then, after she completed her brief examination, she started to laugh, pointing at us in the mirror as she did. After looking at the mirror for a few moments I had to laugh to. There were no guys there. There were two rather attractive women, only partially dressed. Both had on corsets, with quite narrow waists, and neither had yet put on a bra. Their boobs jiggled slightly as they laughed. They looked a lot alike and their hair and makeup were identical. They both wore chastity belts, stockings and heels. She was right. There were no guys here. Of course men would find me attractive. Of course, they would hit on me. The question now was, how would this rather new woman, Jacqui, the absolutely powerless maid, deal with the men who thought they could take advantage of her. How do women do that, I wondered. Then I realized it could be much worse. They could find me repulsive.

A few moments after Melissa had posed us in front of the mirror, our laughter was interrupted by our mistress.

"Jacqui, I want to go out about ten, be in your new chauffeuse uniform."

"Yes, mum." I called down the stairs.

After doing up her rooms, I changed into the new uniform and went to get Ms. Martin's car from the garage. The only way I’d now get to drive my old Mercedes now was as Ms. Martin’s driver. But my BMW was not where it had been after we'd moved! I loved that Z3. It was too small to use for work, so I drove it only for fun. It was my favorite indulgence. I was furious. She had no right to sell my car!

As I helped Carla into the car, I figured the ride would be a good opportunity to discuss some things with her, so after we were on the road, I asked her permission to do so. "Ms. Martin, there are some things I’d like to discuss with you during the ride, would that be alright mum?"

Without even moving her head so I could see her, she simply said. "I'd like quiet from you today. Is that understood?"

"Yes mum," I acknowledged, trying to put as much disappointment into my voice as I could. I had a lot to say, but what choice did I have but to obey her, even though I was very unhappy with the distance she had created between us.

I was instructed to drive about fifty miles and parked in the driveway of a modest home in a residential neighborhood. Ms. Martin just walked away and mounted the front steps. She was admitted just a few moments later.

'Just what the hell does she expect me to do?' I asked myself. I stood in shock for several minutes before I remembered the things in the trunk.

After cleaning all of the windows, there was still no sign of Ms. Martin, so I started to wax the car. It was hot in the sun and hotter still in that black leather uniform, even after I took the jacket off and rolled up my shirtsleeves. Who wears boots in the summer? I needed to begin keeping a jug of drinking water in the trunk.

We had been there almost six hours before the front door opened. I was tired, bored and very hot and I really needed to pee! I had been growing increasingly resentful and then angry as the cloudless day wore on.

Carla walked out onto the front stoop and turned to face the man whom I was about to discover was her lover. "I had a wonderful time," I heard her say. "We must do it again soon." She reached up to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply for several minutes while he fondled her body intimately. She rubbed herself against him in response to his hands. My mouth just fell open. I stood riveted to the driveway, watching them, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

"Bye," she finally said.

"Home, Jacqui," were her only words to me. It was clear from her radiant glow that she did indeed have a wonderful time. Why was she doing this to me? I tried to contain my anger.

"Ms. Martin, I’ve not been able to go to the bathroom for six hours. I need to go before we get on the road."

"You should have thought of that before we left," she snapped at me, "We’re going straight home, right now." She looked me in the eye and then said, "I didn’t give you permission to take your uniform jacket off."

That was it. I lost it. "You didn’t tell me what your plans were, nor did you give me permission to leave this scorching hot driveway while you were inside fucking some other man for six straight hours. Then you walk out of the house so I can see you clearly and you kiss him like he’s your dearest lover." My voice was trembling with a combination of grief and anger.

"You obviously wanted me to see that." I started to cry. "What are you punishing me for? I can think of some reasons why a woman might want to humiliate her cross dressing husband," my voice rose and I was now shouting at her, tears streaming down my face, "but no one treats an employee the way you’ve treated me today. You want to go home? Fine. Get in the damn car. We’re leaving."

I spun on my heel and left her standing next to the closed back door of the Mercedes as I walked around the car to the driver’s side, my heels clicking loudly on the cement. I got into the drivers seat, slamming the door behind me. When I didn’t hear her get into the car after a few seconds, I started the engine. Ten seconds later she was still standing by the car so I started to back out. After pulling to the end of the driveway, leaving her ten feet away, I opened my door, stepped part way out of the car and shouted at her. "Either you get in the car now, or I leave, quit and divorce you. You have ten seconds to decide."

She glared at me for two or three seconds and then stalked to the car. She got into the back seat and buckled her seat belt. We drove for about five minutes until I found a gas station. I got out, took the keys with me and went to pee. The bathroom was disgusting and I was in tears as I sat on the grimy seat trying to hold my uniform skirt off the urine soaked floor and did what I had to do in that stinking little room.

After we had been on the highway for about five minutes, I finally broke the silence. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

"Explain myself?" she shot back. "Tell me why I shouldn’t just fire you the second we get home."

"Because, you selfish bitch," I started to shout now, tears again running from my eyes, "you’re the one who fucked up here and trying to attack me won’t get you off the hook. I’ve done everything I can to fulfill our agreement. No employer would treat a maid the way you’ve treated me. What you did today was downright cruel. You’ve now made it perfectly clear you don’t give a shit about my feelings. At this point you have to convince me to stay."

"You have three month contract. You’re bound to stay."

"Carla, I don’t know what’s going on here, but my lawyer wrote the contract and the monetary agreement. He can get me out of both. If that happens, this whole thing goes public and we both look like fools. At this point, you’re the one with everything to lose. Don’t you dare threaten me!"

She was silent for a few seconds and then let out a big sigh. A few moments later, I could hear her beginning to sob. What the hell was going on here? Now we were both crying. "I fucked up," she finally spluttered. "I just wanted to get laid and Warren is an attentive man with a large cock. I somehow convinced myself that my driver was simply at my beck and call and that I didn’t have to think about it any more deeply than that. Now I’ve ruined everything." She started crying again.

Now I was confused. I was still furious at the way she had treated me, but could see that maybe she didn’t intend to leave me to suffer in the driveway all day long. Melissa was right. I really was too submissive. It was as if I had completely lost my ability to do what was best for me, or even to get myself out of painful or potentially harmful situations. I didn’t know what I would be able to do about that, but I wasn’t about to let go of my anger. How dare she cuckold me right in front of my face. I left her to her tears and wallowed in my own self-pity until we got home. I didn’t know how this was going to turn out.

"I'll not need you again this evening," was all that she said once we were home, dismissing me. I went upstairs and drank a lot of water. Then I took my corset off to bathe. The bath was wonderfully relaxing, but I cried my eyes out in the tub. I cursed my chastity belt, before crying some more. I didn’t bother to put my corset on before went to bed. I didn’t really care about anything at that point.

Melissa's SUV hadn’t been in the garage when I'd parked and I didn’t see her before I went to bed at ten. I awoke when she got in bed around midnight.

"Where've you been?" I asked groggily.

"Out. I didn't mean to wake you, Jacqui. Go back to sleep. Good night." I mumbled my reply.

The following morning, Melissa asked me what day I wanted off that week.

"We're no longer grounded," she added.

"Good, but where's my car? It's not in the garage."

"Your car? Ms. Martin sold Mr. Ingram's little BMW if that's the car you are referring to. Listen, Jacqui. You better do a reality check. You're a maid taking home a hundred and four-four bucks a week, not some corporate executive driving a seventy thousand dollar luxury import."

Melissa was right. I was just minimum-wage hired help. Right now, it seemed that everything was coming to a head. My wife was fucking around, she had sold all my belongings, including my favorite car, and talked me into what was in effect indentured servitude. I was forced to wear corsets and was trapped in a chastity belt. People either ignored me completely, or treated me like a sex object. I was scared to death I would be recognized and humiliated and yet my wife (ha! that’s a laugh) insisted on inviting all my friends and colleagues to parties where I had to serve them. To say that I resented the entire arrangement would be the understatement of the year. I was angry and it showed.

As I got out of bed, Melissa noticed that I wasn’t wearing my corset. "What are you doing?" she asked pointing at my midsection."

"Whatever I want," I muttered back.

"Jacqui what is going on here?

"Oh Melissa, everything’s all wrong." I broke down and cried and she held me while I told her everything. After hearing me out, she sat with me for a while before pulling me to my feet.

"Come on," she said, "we have work to do. I’ll help you dress. It’ll take your mind off things. We’ll work this out, don’t worry. I’ve no intention of losing my best girlfriend." She kissed me tenderly on the lips, hugged me for several moments and got me dressed.

She tightened my corset to only twenty-three inches that morning, the loosest I‘d worn it since I first put it on. You know what? It felt too loose. I asked her to take out another inch. My waist had really shrunk and something deep within me had learned to like the tight grasp of the corset.

"Melissa, what's with the other maid?" Ms. Martin asked over breakfast, as if nothing had happened the previous day. Melissa looked over at me before answering.

"She's miffed because the BMW was sold and I think she's feeling a bit sorry for herself, mum."

"Jacqui, stand over there and look at me," Ms. Martin pointed to the side of the table opposite to where she was sitting. I curtseyed once I was in place.

"Did Melissa tell you that you're no longer grounded?"

"Yes, mum," I admitted.

"And you think that I should permit you to drive a car of your own." No answer was needed - I did. "If you think you can afford one, I've no problem with that."

"Oh fuck this," I blurted out. "How can you sit there and play this little game after what happened yesterday?"

"Jacqui!" Melissa shouted at me. "You are not permitted to talk like that and you know it."

"Oh screw off Melissa. You have no idea what this is about," I shouted angrily.

Melissa started to protest, but Carla cut her off. "No, she’s right Melissa. We’ve got a problem and I don’t know how to deal with it." She sighed and looked down at her plate.

"Maybe I can help Mum," Melissa offered. "I don’t know about your personal relationship," she stared pointedly at Carla, "but I do know a lot about how the relationship between a mistress and her staff should work." She looked expectantly first at Carla and then at me. We both nodded our acceptance.

"The first rule is that they have to treat each other as human beings." She stared again at Carla, who looked back at her with guilt in her eyes. "And a proper mistress apologizes to her staff when she makes a mistake."

It was quiet for quite a few moments and I was about to bolt from the room because I was afraid Carla wouldn’t apologize and I was afraid of what I would do if she didn’t. I heard Carla get up. She walked over to me and took my hands my in hers. Then she dipped a very small curtsey.

"Miss Ingram," she began, surprising me. I’d never thought of myself that way. "Jacqui?" she continued, her voice asking me for permission to use that name. I nodded yes. "I am sincerely sorry that I left you in that driveway yesterday and for the imperious and thoughtless way I ordered you about when I finally came back to the car. I promise that nothing like that will happen in the future and that you shall have uniforms, supplies and instructions that are appropriate to the conditions. You must have suffered terribly in that heat."

"Yes mum, I did," I said dropping my own small curtsey. "I accept your apology because I’ve never known you to hurt someone intentionally." I paused, remembering how she had over tightened Melissa’s corset and then refused to relent. I knew it wouldn’t be helpful, but I had to say what was on my mind, "But, Carla, why can’t you adhere to that rule when Melissa and I are involved?"

She looked at me and then at Melissa with a stricken expression on her face. "I don’t know what happens," she said, her voice expressing how appalled she apparently was at her own behavior, "I just don’t know how to maintain discipline without using extreme measures. Maybe we should just forget this mistress and maid thing."

"Not so fast," said Melissa. "I like this arrangement and I think I can teach you both how to handle it. One thing we need to do is set clear expectations and work each new situation through, rather than assuming we each know what the right thing is. I know of some good information on the Web, and some other stuff I could write up into a manual for us to use."

"Oh, that’s perfect, Carla said, I’m sure you’ve seen the computer boxes in the den. I was going to give them to you to occupy your free time here. I was going to wait, but since you’ve proposed a way to use them, you can have them right now."

"In the den, in boxes on the floor, is a computer system, including the peripherals that were in my old house. Melissa, you and Jacqui may set it up in your quarters. Call the cable company and arrange for a broad-band connection. I will pay for the monthly service." Hearing that, I brightened somewhat.

"Thank you, mum," I smiled my appreciation.

"Now, in case you think that there is some catch, let me dissuade those fears. There is none. You and First Girl can surf without restriction, chat, do emails or whatever else you'd like. I'll not censor your activities nor snoop. I think you are smart enough to put in whatever security you wish anyway. I'll even go a step further, should either of you wish a program that's not on it, request it and I'll get it for you." Ms. Martin was acting generously and we both thanked her, though I was still very unhappy with her.

"There is that something I wish in return." I knew there had to be a catch, what she had just given freely was too good to be true. "I do not wish you to spend all of your free time in front of the monitor, Jacqui. I'd like you to do other things too."

"Yes, mum. What do you wish?" I did not have to wait long to learn it wasn't that bad, in fact it might be fun.

"I'd like you, personally, to take over the flower bed surrounding the fountain in front of the house and turn it into something beautiful. Make it yours and express yourself through it.

"I also would like some really fresh tomatoes for the summer. You know how delicious they can be. Plant and attend to them behind the garage."

"Thank you, mum. I do appreciate everything you’ve offered." My thanks were sincere and I hoped it came across in my tone of voice as I curtseyed. Still, I couldn’t let her off the hook just because she threw a few gifts at us. "But you and I still have unfinished business…"

"Yes, you do," cut in Melissa, who stared at me to shut me up. I opened my mouth once more, but her look intensified, so I just closed it and stood there. She went on, "I don’t pretend to be a marriage counselor, but if you two would like me to mediate, I can try. In any case, mum," she curtseyed to Carla, "you two need to spend some time together, real soon." She emphasized the ‘real’ and both Carla and I knew what she meant.

"I will take care of things any time you would like to meet with Jacqui privately, for no matter how long. Your relationship is at real risk and when I first arrived you told me you were doing all this," she lifted her hands and gestured around at the house, "to save that relationship. I hate to be pushy, but I suggest today."

She curtseyed again, but it was a remarkably gesture. It was the first time I had ever seen anyone give an order through a curtsey. But what she said next, really blew me away, "And Carla," she hesitated to make sure she had Carla’s full attention, "if you ever decide to end your relationship with Jacqui, just let me know. I’d be more than pleased to take over responsibility for the key to her chastity belt. I’m sure I’d use it more than you do." She curtseyed yet again, this time slowly and gracefully, like a ballerina presenting herself at the royal court. It was the first sarcastic curtsey I had ever seen and Carla knew just what it meant. Melissa had just inserted herself as a rival with her sister for my affections! Both Carla and I were bug—eyed at her nerve. Melissa was just amazing.

At four that afternoon, I made my way to Carla’s room. She had asked me to wear anything but my uniform and I had spent quite a while and a good deal of anxiety trying to figure out what might be appropriate. I wanted to look attractive, although for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Really, why should the cuckolded, cross-dressed husband/maid want to look attractive for his wife? Oh, hell, I'd want to look attractive no matter what I was doing. That was me, not the situation.

OK, attractive, but not sexy. The situation actually called for me to wear armor. My last battle with Carla had hurt me deeply and the wounds still hurt, but I don't have armor, besides, if I did, it would look sci-fi sexy, like Barbarella or some cover illustration designed to sell books. Short mini skirts with tight tops were sexy, but sexy was not the appearance I wanted to project.

Feminine? Did I want to look feminine, or should I perhaps try for a more man-tailored look. As I stood in front of the mirror trying to answer that question, Melissa called up to say that Ms. Martin was waiting. Oh, well, I thought, I am what I am.

Demure? Relaxed? No. I wanted to be in control. I lifted a black broomstick skirt with gigantic, pink roses printed all over it from the rack. It looked hideous and I questioned why I'd ever bought it. Before resuming my quest for just the right outfit, I tossed it in the trash. Then I had another idea.

Walking before my cheval mirror, I held the jacket under my chin and the calf-length skirt to my waist. Yes! The suit was fifty years out of fashion, but I love the look of that era. Before removing my uniform, I searched for the hat and spectator pumps that went with it, along with the matching envelope purse.

First I put on a long slip, which I tucked between my knees to keep it down as I pulled up the pegged skirt. Once I had it in place, I relaxed them to fasten the button and close the zipper in back over the black silk blouse that accompanied the ensemble. Though I'd altered this when adjusting my wardrobe to fit my new waist, I'd not worn it for quite a while and had forgotten how restrictive the long skirt was.

Walking to the stool before my vanity reminded me quickly enough though, but I didn't care. I felt that this skirt was also a protective garment. No attacker would be able to causally flip up this armor and gain targets that very were vulnerable to the barbed arrows they might launch.

I slipped my feet into the shoes then stood to don the jacket. It was tailored and heavily constructed. When buttoned, it hugged my corseted torso in a firm embrace; I imagined it was my cuirass, padded to cushion any blow that might land.

The little hat, once pinned to my hair, created and reinforced the lady-like like image the designer had intended. I never claimed to be a lady. I'm a girl, but lowering the black diamond net veil made me feel like I was closing my helmet's visor. Now, I was less vulnerable. I was protected. I hoped that my preparations were enough to allow me to survive the battle, even if I did not force my opponent to capitulate.

The door was open, but I knocked anyway. Carla had a beautiful sitting room that adjoined her bedroom and looked out over the secluded back yard of the estate. She sat in a comfortable wing chair in front of the big bay windows, whose white chintz curtains had been pulled fully back. The yard beyond was a lush and beautifully manicured green. I usually tried to clean this room shortly after Ms. Martin left for work because the early morning sun cast exquisite light into the trees and gardens in the yard. It truly was a lovely sight, and very calming for me.

"Please, come in Jacqui."

"Thank you mum," I replied. Unsure of the situation, I also curtseyed, as much as the skirt would allow. I immediately rebuked myself for the submission gesture. This conversation did not call for me to be submissive and I had already undermined myself.

"Jacqui, Jacqui," she said soothingly, reaching out to take my hand, please call me Carla, while we are here talking, we are old, intimate friends, we know all about each other and we have important matters to discuss. Let’s not play. May I have a kiss please?

She lifted my veil and pulled me into a warm embrace, so I turned my face up towards hers to receive her kiss on my lips. That was not what she had in mind however, she kissed my cheek instead. Her lips were soft and her skin warm as she kept her cheek next to mine and hugged gently me for a few moments. Then she broke and gestured for me to sit as she settled back into her chair.

There was a serving table between us and she had a variety of beverages already set out. "Please," she said, "what can I offer you?"

"A 7-Up ® will be fine, thank you." I had perched myself on the front of the chair so I could stay comfortable in my corset. I pulled my legs back and to my left, my ankles entwined. I watched her as she poured my drink. Her waved hair was loose and cascaded down around her face and shoulders. Even with almost no makeup, she was beautiful and I realized, yet again, what had drawn her to me in the first place.

She was a gorgeous woman and I was a small, wimpy guy - cute, perhaps, but wimpy for sure. I guess that my incessant courting must have had something to do with her response to me, but she must have seen something else as well, because, despite all my drawbacks, including my height and the fact that I had breasts, she had still decided to marry me.

But looking at her right then, I could see by the set of her jaw and the tightness around her glossy pink lips that she had her armor on too. She was obviously not planning to share any emotions today.

Finally, when we were both settled and all the niceties attended to, she said, "What can I do for you, Jacqui?"

That really startled me. She knew damn well, why we were here. She should be apologizing to me for what she did yesterday! I guess my surprise showed, because she softened quickly and started the conversation herself.

"I’m sorry," she said, "You said you wished to talk. I’m as nervous as I can be," she fanned both her hands in front of her for a moment, "and I’m not sure what to do, but I shouldn’t have thrown it on you. Let me try again?"

So she took a deep breath, settled herself in her seat and said, "Jacqui, let me begin by apologizing for stranding you in that awful driveway yesterday. It was just totally thoughtless of me and I promise that it will never happen again." She looked at me with pleading eyes, clearly begging my forgiveness. I gave her the slightest nod. Then she went on. "Should you, for what ever reason, find yourself in a similar situation, I want, no, I demand, I even order, that you take the appropriate actions to assure for your own safety and comfort. Do I make myself clear?"

What I saw, clearly, was that Ms. Martin was demonstrating her total control over one of her maids. "Yes, Carla, you do. But I hope you will understand that I try very hard to fulfill your orders." Then I hesitated. "Since becoming a maid I had discovered something about myself that I had never before been aware of..," I stopped to decide whether I should share it with Carla. Oh shit! I’ve allowed myself to be turned into a maid and I drive my wife to her assignations. What do I have to lose? I plunged ahead.

"Carla, this whole situation has tapped into a powerful submissive streak in me that I never knew existed, so please be careful not to put me in the position of guessing what you want done. It’s just not fair." I sounded like a whiny ten-year old girl and I hated myself for sounding that way. Even worse, I had given her another weapon to use against me. I had no trouble trusting Carla, my wife, with this insight, but I really didn’t know this Ms. Martin person sitting across from me right now. If she had hidden motives I might have just helped her destroy me, but maybe this would be a test of what she intended. Her answer would be very revealing.

Although Carla did not react to my revelation, I could see her pupils dilate for a few moments and then constrict again as an eyebrow raised in question. She was working overtime to process my message. I kept looking at her, waiting for her to say something.

"I understand, Jacqui, and I have asked Melissa to find everything she can about employment agreements and work rules for situations like ours. I hate what I did to you and never want it to happen again. If I hear you correctly, you are telling me it’s my responsibility to make sure that it doesn’t?"

That isn’t exactly what I meant and I didn’t agree with her right away. Before I could say anything, she went on. "But really Jacqui, this conversation is not about being left in a driveway, is it?" I shook my head no, indicating she was right. "No," she went on, "it’s about whose driveway, why I was there, and why I had you bring me there."

"Yes Carla, that’s exactly what it’s about. Why did you do that to me? Do you hate me?"

She hesitated for a second, frightening me that she was about to say yes, or at least think about it, but then she jumped up from her chair and reached over to hug me, pulling me to my feet. "Oh no, Jacqui, I don’t hate you at all. Please don’t think that!"

I pulled away from her; I was getting agitated now. I ran my hands down the front of my skirt to smooth it before nearly shouting at her, "Why shouldn't I think that? You humiliated me and rubbed my face in it. Surely you don’t expect me to believe that was an accident?" My voice cracked with a sob, as I finished.

She dropped her hands to her sides and her whole body sagged; she looked down at her feet. I could hear her sobbing. When she finally looked up, there were tears running from her eyes. "I do not know Jacqui, I honestly don’t know." She had that pleading look again.

"I went to Warren’s house to be with Warren. It had nothing to do with you..."

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," I interrupted. The sarcasm was inescapable.

"Just let me finish!" Now she was on the attack. It was so typical of her to attack anyone who was putting her on the defensive, especially if she was on the defensive because she was wrong.

"Well just go ahead." I sat down abruptly. "This oughta be good."

She opened her mouth and raised her hand to strike back, but thought better of it and stopped. Then she turned to her seat, carefully smoothed her dress under her and sat down, taking an age to look at me again.

"Okay, let me see if I can get this right. I really don’t understand it myself." She looked me right in the eye and went on. "I wasn’t sure, but I had a hunch you were not just a cross-dresser, but a transsexual as well. I was stupid to exclude Jacqui from my life, but I was afraid that I would lose John to her. It was John I had decided to marry, even though I knew Jacqui existed."

She stopped to look at me, but even though I was seething inside, I sat impassively where I was. She was right of course, although I had never admitted it to myself, there was a very good chance that I might have decided to become ‘Jacqui - full time’ at some point. Still, I wasn’t going to admit that right now! It was irrelevant! I was the aggrieved party!

Getting no response from me, she just sighed and went on. "John had reached a crisis point, he was about to crash and burn. I knew that even if I didn’t lose him to Jacqui, I might have lost him to work; so, I intervened and thought I had come up with a clever plan to kill two birds with one stone. It would put you in a situation where John could heal and Jacqui could flourish. I figured that if my fears were true, John might never reappear."

I looked up at her, startled at this little revelation. Before I could say anything, however, she went on.

"But better to find out sooner than later and better to allow Jacqui to be born into a safe environment with a healthy psyche than to force her to emerge from a drunken, shattered John. If my fears were foolish, John would be back in a few months, perhaps with a new and healthier outlook on life and we would see where Jacqui might fit in. You do see, don’t you? Jacqui, my plan was a win-win for both John and Jacqui. I really did go into this with the best of intentions."

I had to admit that what she said made sense, but why did she sound so defensive about it? I don’t know whether she understood all that from the outset, but, if not, she had just done a brilliant bit of post hoc rationalization. I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. Above all else, I knew Carla was an extremely intelligent woman.

"Okay, Carla, what you are saying makes sense. In fact, it’s very insightful and clever. But I don’t see how that leads you to sleep around while I’m locked in this damn chastity belt!" I had gotten angry again - I'd remembered the chastity belt. Even though I could live with it, I hated the limitations it imposed. And, right then, talking with my cheating wife, it seemed the ultimate affront.

"I wanted the chastity belt for two reasons. First, I really did want to protect my sister and you to a lesser degree. You were so fragile a month ago, I feared she might devour you sexually." She tilted her head in a flirty way and grinned at me. I had to giggle.

"But more importantly," she went on. "I wanted to drive John from Jacqui’s existence. Men too often think with their cocks and I've already told you how I feel about John masturbating while Jacqui. Is there a need to expand on that?" I stayed silent, looking at my black and white purse to avoid her eyes.

"That said, I have to admit, you never really seemed like the kind of man who let his cock take over his brain. You were always patient and considerate."

I nodded my thanks, adding a shy little smile.

She went on, "Be that as it may, I somehow just knew that if Jacqui were to emerge, John had to be repressed. I couldn’t do it psychologically, but I could do it physically; so I did. And I was right, wasn’t I?"

I had to admit that she was. I shrugged my shoulders and nodded my head in meek acceptance of the wisdom in her decision. I mouthed a soft, "Yes." My anger was dissipating again.

"But I didn’t anticipate my own response to everything that was going to happen. You know what? I like having servants and being catered to. I didn’t think I would, in fact, I thought it would make me uncomfortable, but it hasn’t. It’s great! The trouble is, I don’t know how to handle them. I really hope Melissa can help us fix this so all know what our roles are."

"But there’s more. I got lonely. I wasn’t enjoying all those dinners and evenings alone. I wanted company, but I was afraid that if I let you fill that role, that the role of Jacqui the maid would never fully develop. I didn’t want to short-circuit your healing process. Even though I don’t really know what’s going on, I wanted to stick with the plan, which was to have you as my maid, not my companion."

"So I got curious. It’s not like sex had ever been a big part of my life. You know it hasn’t. But I do like it." Her lips smiled. "And ... I began to wonder what it might be like with a real man." Her hand flew to her mouth and she lowered her eyes as she realized what she had said. I blushed furiously, and my heart fell into my stomach at her rebuke. She went on.

"No. Really. I’ve been making love to a guy who wants to be a girl and even has cute little tits and not too much of a cock." I looked away, feeling even more ashamed. All this was true. "You weren’t dominant at all, but soft, sensual, giving and patient. I loved those things, really! But I started to wonder about someone who was all man, a real macho kind of guy."

"And guys like that had been throwing themselves at me ever since I stopped working. So Warren was to be the one. I figured that I shouldn’t ever try to hide it from you because if you found out, you would be devastated. It seemed so obvious then, I might as well do it right in front of you. I can see now how wrong that was. I can’t believe I was so stupid. It made sense from an engineering perspective, but not from a psychological one. I had no empathy for you at all. I’m so sorry."

She really did look upset and it certainly wasn’t her style to use emotional displays to make her points, but I still didn’t trust her. Once again, my anger was starting to build and I listened with increasing cynicism. I could see the whole thing quite clearly. She got fed up with her girlish husband and decided to trade him in for a stud. Well, fuck her! She can have him.

"And so how am I supposed to feel now?" I asked, with as much sarcasm as I could muster. My resentment welled.

"Carla, I'm Ms. Martin's second maid. As such, the First Girl assigns my chores, and cleaning Ms. Martin's suite regularly is just one of many." I rose and bobbed to her, "Just being a curious maid, mum but what are those stains on her sheets and those things in the waste basket after she has male guests over? I might be able to do me chores better the knowin' mum?" I said it to have as much impact as possible.

"I don’t know," she said after a long pause. Then she looked up at me and said, "Please don’t hate me. I love you. I don’t want to lose you, even if you do become Jacqui."

There was something about the look on her face that didn't sit just right, but what could I do? I frankly didn’t believe her, but I still had to take her in my arms and comfort her, so I did. I hated to see her upset. We stood there like that for a few minutes and it was actually very nice. I liked holding my Carla again, feeling her breasts press into mine, thinking that I was helping her feel better.

"Jacqui," she said, pulling herself up and wiping her nose with the back of her wrist and then laughing at herself when she realized what she had done, "we need to find a different way. I want to spend more time with you, personal time, when we can just be together."

I started to dream about sex with her, but she quashed that right away. "I’m not going to let you out of your chastity belt. Don't get silly ideas. I still think it’s important for Jacqui to discover herself without John around. But there are other things we can do, certainly, we can share affection, can’t we?

"Oh, I’d so like that, Carla," I just blurted it out, my hurt feelings almost forgotten in the promise of her affection. I wasn’t sure what kind of long-term effect this would have on us, but for now, that offer made me feel much better. I was filled with hope that I would be spending more time with Carla. In the warm embrace of that hope, and despite the way she had treated me, I wiped away all my doubts and allowed my love for Carla to take charge of my feelings. I liked the way I felt when I allowed my love for her to the surface. I was still plagued by doubts, but at least I was feeling hopeful.

*****

Once Ms. Martin had left for the office, usually by seven thirty, one of us would clean the dishes and kitchen then start doing the rest of the downstairs. The other would begin by cleaning Ms. Martin's suite, the upstairs hallway and stairs. She'd then clean our quarters to the same high standards and start the laundry. Without any guests, the upstairs maid took less than two hours to complete the chores there. She then joined the downstairs maid in finishing that floor, often by noon. Melissa and I alternated daily between upstairs and downstairs maid. With both of us sharing the ironing, we could knock that out in half an hour, leaving us free for the afternoon. At four o'clock, we'd have our meal, clean up, help each other change into the proper uniform then go down and prepare Ms. Martin's dinner, leaving us about another hour before she arrived home.

Though Melissa was teaching me how to cook, there was no doubt that she did it better, so I was assigned to tend to Ms. Martin from when she'd come home until we served her meal together. Usually I did the dishes and cleaned up in the kitchen while Ms. Martin would take Melissa away to 'talk to her for a moment'.

Upon completion of my chores and unless told otherwise, I was to go upstairs for the remainder of the night. I again had free time, but wasn't to change out of my uniform or go to bed before either Melissa said that I could or nine thirty, whichever came first.

That Monday, we carried the computer to the top of our turret and Melissa helped me re-assemble it. She seemed fascinated and asked a lot of questions. She knew how to use one, of course, but that had always been a machine, which someone else had set up before hand.

"Fuck her!" I swore. Melissa covered my hand on the mouse and lifted her index finger to point it at me.

"Don't you ever loose your temper again!" she stated firmly. "Never, ever, do I want to hear you swear." Her hand stayed where it was, but she rested her wagging finger.

"Now, count to ten then tell me what's wrong, Jacqui." I opened Windows Explorer and scanned the contents before answering her question.

"This is the machine from the other house, but the hard drive has been replaced."

"How do you mean, ‘replaced’?" she asked.

"That one was only twenty gigabytes, this one is sixty."

"So? Ms. Martin upgraded it for us. Was that a reason to swear?"

"All of my stuff, every one of the files I'd created, down loaded, whatever, they're gone. Other than the applications, the hard drive is entirely clean. Not one single file of mine is here."

"Stop for a sec'." Her hand had remained on mine. "Think on what you just said," she spoke very calmly. "Re-think what Ms. Martin said about the computer." I did, but did not see the connection at first.

"Think about it Jacqui." Melissa turned off the monitor.

I did think about it and more. I started from the beginning and rethought the events. Then it hit me; I was Jacqui the maid, not John Ingram, CEO of my own company. I had just sort of come into existence. I really had no past.

My upset over my files was baseless. They weren't my files, they were John's and I was not John. I was being silly, if you looked at it from that perspective, which was obviously what Melissa wanted me to do. She rarely passed up an opportunity to remind me that I was Jacqui and not John. What's that about? I started to wonder, but Melissa interrupted me to ask if I had gotten it yet.

"Well, I guess," I grudgingly replied. With that, Melissa switched the screen back on, and I proceeded to set up our personalized versions of how we wanted the computer to be for each of us. Melissa liked reds and blues and I preferred a color scheme of greens and yellow. I didn't spend any time wondering if some shrink would place a meaning to that.

"Be sure to set your own password, Melissa, before you shutdown." I stood and moved to the stairs.

"I'll go change so you have some privacy."

"You're being silly," she giggled, as I started down to our dressing level.

I think it was that afternoon that I started being a bit happier about things. There was no overnight change, but that was the beginning.

Because my contractors were going to arrive shortly, I asked Melissa if I could put on my outside uniform and work on the flowerbed once we completed our chores. Surprisingly, being near them wasn't bothering me.

After securing her permission, I added a big cartwheel hat of fine black straw that had been in my old wardrobe to keep my face from becoming sunburned. I didn't care if it went with the bib-front jumper or not. Melissa said it did, but I wasn't so sure. In any case, it was a practical solution.

When Manuel and the guys arrived, I went over as they were getting out of the trucks.

"Buenos dios, amigos," I smiled, curtseyed, and waved.

"Buenos dios, senorita Jacqui." Their big smiles warmed me.

"Senor Santiago, come with me, por favor?" I asked the foreman then turned to walk to my flowerbed.

"This is all wrong and I don't like it." He immediately started to apologize profusely and I realized I had spoken to him just like Ms. Martin spoke to me. I blushed with embarrassment that I would behave that way.

"No, No, lo siento, Senor Santiago," I hurried to correct my mistake. "I didn't explain properly. It is nothing you've done. Your men have tended it very well, Senor."

"Then what is wrong, senorita?" he stared - his lack of understanding was obvious in his expression.

"This was designed by the former owner. My mistress has told me to fix it up in a way that I will like. So we have to remove everything and start over. Place the healthy plants in other beds and we will start fresh."

"Emillio," he called him over then with his wrinkled hands waving all over the yard and speaking rapid Spanish. I hoped he was directing him with what was to be done.

"What would you like planted here, Senorita?" I really didn't know much about flower gardens, except what I had read on the web recently, but I had been forming an idea.

"Can you take me to a nursery and help me pick out some plantings to start over with, por favor?" I asked. Of course, he agreed to my request. The contract with Mr. Delveccio had a provision for new and replacement plants to be supplied at cost plus five percent so I had no need to worry about money while he drove to a huge nursery where they had an account.

With Manuel pulling a wagon by my side, I surveyed the vast offerings. As I walked along the paths looking at what was a available, I began to form a picture of what I wanted to do.

"Azaleas. I want azaleas, Senor."

"They are past their season, Senorita and not bloom until the spring."

I did know that much and said it would be fine. He led me in back where they were not taking up display space. Reading the descriptions on their white tags, I picked out twenty bushes of varying sizes. Those would be a good start. The wagon we had would never do, so the nurseryman just set them aside to be loaded on the truck later.

At the checkout, I remembered the tomatoes.

"It's far too late this year, Miss, the end of June is not the time to plant them," the clerk explained. "Those are all that are left." He pointed to a cart behind the register. "I was just going to take them to the compost. If you want to try, they're yours, no charge."

"Thank you, I will." Manuel took care of the bill and we loaded the truck together. I had also charged some books, kneepads and gloves.

By the time we arrived back at the house, my flowerbed had been stripped and roto-tilled by the men who were then cutting the lawns. Manuel started to help, but I sent him to do his other work, after thanking him and explaining that this was my hobby and I wanted to do everything myself. Before doing as I asked, he talked me through how to properly plant one of the bushes and outlined how I should care for them.

After two hours, I realized that I would never be able to get all those azaleas in the ground that day, so I swallowed my pride and asked Senor Santiago for help. He and two men finished the job in so little time that I wondered why I had insisted on trying to do it myself. At least it was done according to my plan.

I was physically worn out by the time I went inside after getting all my plants in the ground, but I was mentally very high. Gardening while tightly laced in a corset and locked in a steel chastity belt was not a comfortable or easy exercise, but I was thrilled that I had redesigned the garden.

"Where did you go earlier?" Melissa demanded when she found me. I told her.

"You had no permission to leave. I will have to report you to Ms. Martin."

"So report me, Warden. I was not informed that I am a prisoner here and I that I needed your permission to do my job," I shot right back. I was exercising my newfound right to not be totally submissive.

Melissa curtseyed to me. "You're right. You are not a prisoner, Jacqui. I was wrong to even think that you required my permission. Please, just tell me in the future?" she finished in a softened voice. Then she smiled at me. "If you want a bath, I'll help you with your corset." I accepted her offer.

"Melissa informed me that you left the property today. Is that correct, Jacqui?" Ms. Martin did not seem angry when she asked.

"That is correct, mum. I know that I was negligent by not telling her of my plans. In the future I will do so."

"Very well, Jacqui. Tell me about your day while I eat, please?" I did and tried not to omit any details, especially of my chores. Let her hear just how boring it can be to be a maid, I thought to myself.

"As you did not know, I'll not deprive you of another day off this week. In the future, I'll consider attending to one of your hobbies for most of the day, as doing it on your free time. When on duty, I will expect you to confine your activities to the chores that Melissa assigns to you," she informed. "Now, what day this week would you like off?"

"I'm fine, mum. I'll do my chores the rest of the week." I was serious. I didn't mind. Ms. Martin chuckled.

"Don't argue with me. Thursday will be your day off, Jacqui."

"Yes, mum."

I learned on Thursday that our days off didn't start until after Ms. Martin had left for work and I had thoroughly cleaned the kitchen. "You may dress as you wish, but your corset stays as it is, and you must be ready for bed no later then ten tonight," Melissa told me. "If you intend to leave the property, please tell me so I don't worry."

"May I borrow your car, please?" I asked her.

"No. Please don't ask me again."

Being turned down so bluntly, and without explanation, literally stunned me. I had thought Melissa was my friend, but she had just behaved as if she didn't know me. I didn't get it, both Melissa and Ms. Martin were becoming very unpredictable, apparently warm and friendly one moment and cold and heartless the next. It was all very confusing.

It felt strange to wear something other than a uniform. I almost felt naked without an apron or one style or another of a headpiece. The old Jacqui had a pair of tight designer jeans and a few pairs of shorts. I didn't. Carla had ordered them removed. That left me with a choice between a dress or a skirt and top. Trying on several choices, I was frustrated that almost everything I selected no longer fit because of my smaller waist. Finally, I settled on a stretchy cotton and lycra skirt and white, short sleeved top that looked OK, but not great. I needed new clothes other than my uniforms.

I went outside after lacing up my gardening boots and putting on my cartwheel hat. As I'd been busy with the azaleas on Tuesday, I had neglected the pitiful bunch of scraggly tomato plants I'd been given. My friend, Emillio, had tilled a garden patch, much larger than I needed, on the south side of the garage. When I went there, I found a bag of fertilizer with a note scrawled on it. 'For Senorita's tomatoes.' At least I interpreted it as that - it was hard to read. Beside the bag was a bundle of steel rods about a half inch in diameter. I thought it was sweet and made a mental note to give him fresh tomatoes.

With my kneepads and gloves on, I spent the whole morning planting the tomatoes, staking them and then heavily watering the plants. I set up the sprinkler for my azaleas, fertilized them liberally too and turned it on for the afternoon.

I was able to surf around gardening sites that afternoon because Melissa had handled the cable guy while I was out on Tuesday. I learned a lot and concluded my tomatoes didn't stand a chance. I did not bother with my former haunts, but found an interesting site hosted by a TV maid. She had section titled 'Tip of The Month'. It read, in part, as if Melissa had written it. I did find it educational and saved all of the previous monthly postings for future reading and reference.

I'd supper ready for us when Melissa came up to change into her evening uniform. We talked idly, as we ate together. Then, as we cleaned up, Melissa changed the tone completely.

"Jacqui, I’ve noticed a change in you over the past few days. Want to tell me about it?"

"Change? I'm still me. Nothing’s different," I replied, avoiding a serious answer for the moment to see where she might be going with this. I didn't trust her after the way she had behaved that morning.

"Well, there's a glow that wasn't there before the party."

"Must be all the work outside. You know what they say about horses, men, and ladies."

"What?"

"Horses sweat, men perspire and ladies glow." We both giggled, but Melissa wasn’t giving up.

"Seriously, what changed? You really are different; your attitude seems completely changed, like you aren’t fighting everything anymore."

"I decided to accept what I am and not worry about it for now. There's really nothing to be gained by doing otherwise. The truth is that living as Jacqui full time is a dream come true for me. And this is a pretty stress free environment," I hesitated as I thought about the truth of that statement and then added with some bitterness, "except when Ms. Martin decides to have me watch as she gets laid."

I could see that Melissa was going to say something, so I kept talking to head her off. "So I’ve decided to enjoy what I’ve got and forget about the rest. When my three months are up, we’ll see what we’ll see.

Melissa opened her mouth to respond, but obviously changed her mind before she did. Then she nodded to herself and said, "Well I’ve got something that should take your mind off your worries. Ms. Martin called during the day to tell me to start planning a Fourth of July picnic here, a pool party."

"How many?" I asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

"About sixty," she told me.

"What?" I responded, slightly aghast.

Melissa just ignored me. "It’ll be a barbeque. You're to find someone to service the pool and get it in shape."

"Give me a break!" I protested. "The Fourth is only six days from now, Melissa."

"I know. But you’ll do it anyway." I was disgusted. This was just like Carla, I mean Ms. Martin, to throw a big job at us at the last second. I guess Melissa could see that because she gave me a hug.

"Be ready for me in my bed tonight, Jacqui." She winked at me lasciviously and I could only grin in response despite her earlier behavior. She was suddenly warm again. At least I had something to look forward to. I was pretty sure I had lost Carla, but at least Melissa was there for me. Well, part of the time anyway. The two seemed equally as unpredictable.

By agreeing to pay a large premium, which is to say a bribe, I arranged for a contractor to service the large, in-ground pool the following afternoon. It went without incident and the water sparkled by the time they'd pulled out with their truck mounted pump and filter system.

"How much was the pool service, Melissa?" Ms. Martin inquired after inspecting it and being satisfied.

"I don't know; Jacqui handled it." Ms. Martin looked at me for her answer.

"Seven hundred fifty dollars, plus tax, mum," I said as matter of factly as I could while dropping a slight curtsey.

"What? That's obscene!" She obviously wasn't pleased, but I was determined that I wasn't going to let her blame me for a problem she had created.

"Had we ordered the service two weeks ago, it would have cost a third of that, mum. I respectfully suggest you plan further ahead next year." I curtseyed, trying to do it sarcastically, tilting my body slightly to the side, like I had seen Melissa do. When I looked up, Ms. Martin was glaring at me, fully understanding my intended impertinence, but she knew that I was right, so she just let it drop. Beyond the dirty look, she offered no further comment on the subject. My hope was gone. I felt like we were now adversaries. She was not to be trusted.

"With the First Girl's approval, they will service it once a week for the rest of the season, mum," I concluded, "and at a much more reasonable price.

"I've added removing the insects, leaves and other debris to my daily chores, mum." Ms. Martin snorted out a laugh, but smiled. Time to move on.

Friday, Melissa asked for my help in planning the party, because she had never done a large barbecue before.

"I'd suggest buffet so everyone can serve themselves," I told her. "We’ll have to get someone to bring a large grill and cook for everyone, we don’t want Ms. Martin’s guests getting all sweaty over a fire now do we? We both giggled at that. We can buy everything else we need: macaroni and green salads, rolls, buns, deli cold cuts, spreads, chips, pickles, the works. We'll need Coke ®, regular and diet, 7-Up ®, club soda." I did a quick calculation. "Three cases each. And, let's see, half will drink beer... I'd suggest a half keg."

"How much is that?" Melissa asked.

"Fifteen and a half gallons, a little less than seven cases. For thirty people, that averages less than a six pack each."

"Suppose they want something else to drink?"

"Well, we can set up a bar, with alcohol and mixers and with coffee and tea for nearly everyone," I told her.

Wearing our regular day uniforms, we did much of the shopping the next day. It was the first time I was out shopping at the supermarket with her and the first time I had been out wearing any of my new uniforms. I was acutely aware of everyone who looked at us. Melissa quickly picked up on my uneasiness.

"What’s the matter Jacqui?" she asked, her voice showing that she found my embarrassment amusing.

"Everyone is staring at us," I replied, whispering even though no one was nearby.

She just giggled and whispered back, "Of course they are, we're the two prettiest women in the place."

I just rolled my eyes at her as if to say, ‘thanks a lot’, but we carried on with our shopping and even though we were going to have a lot delivered the day of the party, we still pushed two very full baskets into the checkout line.

"Is this everything?" I smiled, Melissa, Supermaid, was actually asking me.

"I sure hope so," I said, "I don’t know how we're going to get all of this into your car as it is."

The day of the party dawned drearily, with clouds covering the sky and obliterating the sunrise. I knew because Melissa and I were both up very early to get everything set up. We had done a ton of work before Ms. Martin ever came down for breakfast.

"Do what chores you can this morning and assure the guest rooms are clean, Melissa." I caught the First Girl signal me with her eyes to go upstairs once Ms. Martin had finished her breakfast even though it was her turn. She'd be more efficient getting the food prepared, so I nodded my agreement in return.

"I think your formal afternoon uniforms will look nice on both of you." Ms. Martin glanced at me for a reaction and I just curtseyed with a small smile. Melissa verbally acknowledged our order.

After completing our chores, we had an hour to relax and went to our quarters to change our uniforms.

The guests started arriving about one. We had put up signs directing them to come around to the patio so there was no need for me to greet them at the door as I had at the previous party. One of the first to arrive was Toni Bauer.

"Jacqui, I'd like a few words with you." She pointed to the sliding door of the house. I curtseyed then followed her inside.

"First, let me tell you that Carla confirmed my suspicions when I confronted her after the last party." Oh shit! My heart sank. Ms. Bauer raised my chin with the tip of her finger. She smiled at me.

"I called you in here because I wanted you to know that you make a damn sight better looking girl than a guy. Don't get me wrong, you were a helluva a person to work for, but as far as looks go..." Toni just let that sentence trail off. She was looking down at the exposed tops of my breasts. Melissa had insisted that I put enhancers in the corset cups to push them up more. I really did have some cleavage. I had adored it when I first examined myself in the mirror, but now I was embarrassed to look so well endowed in front of my former secretary. Turning her palm up, she ran the back of the tip of one of her well manicured nails from the outside of my left breast to the outside of my right. Then she turned her hand over and gently cupped my right breast from below.

"I always suspected you had those. If you stood silhouetted before the window in your office, I'd have sworn I could see ‘em, but never knew how to confirm my suspicions without actually feeling you up." She hefted my breast again and then placed her hands on my small waist.

"Corset, huh?" I nodded.

"Jacqui, if things here, with you and Carla, don't work out ... you know. Well ... you look me up, OK? Gonna warn you now, I'll never let you act like a man with me, but we’ll see what we can do about this!" I felt her hand go to my steel covered crotch and her nails played on the flesh around its edges. Crouching, Ms. Bauer lifted my petticoats for a close-up view.

"Turn around so I can see the back." I obeyed her, blushing fiercely. There was nothing else to do.

"That's enough. Fix your uniform."

"Your little secret is safe with me. Just remember my offer." Without another word she pulled me into her body and stared into my eyes. I knew what she was thinking and tilted my head to the side to give her better access to my lips. She took my invitation moving her lips to mine, for a very sexy kiss. She lingered, playing first with my top lip and then my bottom, making her intentions unmistakable. Then she went back out on the patio. Bewildered by what had just happened, especially the easy way I gave into her and the comfort I had felt when she held me, I straightened my uniform and followed her.

Melissa had tried to tap the beer keg without success. She'd stared at me and laughed in my face when I told her that tapping a keg was a 'guy thing' and that I'd take care of it.

"Go ahead, Miss Smart Ass. If you think you're so strong, show me," she stepped aside and motioned me towards it.

"Just watch and learn," I smiled at my plan, but managed not to giggle.

"Hey guys?" I called to a group of six men from my company. As they turned, I curtseyed and said, "I'm Jacqui and that's Melissa. We're Ms. Martin's maids and will be helping out this afternoon." I stood with my hands folded in front of me and my feet turned slightly inward while I twisted around from side to side like a little girl. Then I lowered my head and looked back up at them through my lashes. "But right now we need your help. Who knows how to get that thingie into the beer keg?" They practically fell over each other trying to be the first to get there. Melissa burst out laughing and came close.

"Twiddle my twat, you little flirt. That was great!" She hugged me. "I'll remember that stunt." A big cheer went up from where we'd put the beer and we both giggled.

"Who'd have cheered if we'd tapped it earlier," I smiled. "I may be the new maid here, but I'm not completely ignorant."

Unlike at the house warming, the way the pool party had been set up, we did not have much to do. Melissa and I kept busy filling the ice buckets, wiping spills and generally keeping things neat. We'd been told to stand on opposite sides of the patio and look pretty. It was a bit boring, but otherwise I had no problems until I saw Kurt Mark walking over with two plastic glasses of beer in his hands. Mr. Mark was the CEO and board chairman of Mark Seven. I'd last seen him Labor Day, the day of the incident that had sent the old Jacqui into hiding.

I saw his bright blue eyes flick to my chest and linger there for a moment. "Miss Jacqui?" It sounded like a question.

"Yes, sir, I'm Jacqui." Maybe he'd been reading my embroidered name and hadn’t been staring at my breasts.

"Miss Jacqui, you look thirsty and I brought you drink. He extended the cup. "I am Kurt Mark."

I answered with a curtsey, trying to keep my eyes down so he wouldn’t get a good look at me.

"Please, Mr. Mark, thank you for being so considerate, but I must say, 'no thank you'. I do not drink alcohol."

"Ah, you mean you are not permitted." He looked about.

"Carla, a moment, please?" She glared her disapproval at me as she approached.

"Yes, Kurt?" The fire in her eyes was evident when they landed on me. I had obviously displeased her. When she turned back to Mr. Mark, she was all smiles and warmth.

"Carla, I would like to get to know your maid better, but she will not have a beer with me."

"Jacqui," Ms. Martin spoke firmly. "You are here to entertain my guests." She motioned to the beer in his hand with her eyes and head.

"Mum," I dropped a quick curtsey, "I've explained that I do not drink alcohol." Since completely drying out, I'd just lost the desire for it. "I would be happy to share a 7-Up ® with Mr. Mark, mum." Her look was questioning, but had softened.

"Yes, Kurt, I had forgotten. Little Jacqui doesn’t drink. Would it be alright if she sips a soda while you enjoy your beer?"

"Certainly, that would be most satisfactory." Mr. Mark walked away to get me a soda and Carla turned to me.

"You know how important he is to business. Don't do anything to fuck that up, Jacqui!" Her whispered warning had an angry bite and she left to rejoin her other guests without another word. I just sighed. What was I going to do now? I didn’t know anything about entertaining men.

"Enjoy her all you'd like, Kurt." Ms. Martin called over as he passed, "she’s at your service." How could she? I'd just been given to a man! He now had an open invitation to have his way with me!

"Here you are, Fraeulein." I took the glass in a suddenly trembling hand.

"Shall we drink a toast to our happiness?"

I wanted out! How could this be happening? "To happiness," I mumbled, as I raised my cup to touch his, still not daring to look him in the eye.

"You are very pretty, Jacqui," he smiled down at me.

Even though I was wearing five-inch heels, my eyes were only at the level of his chin. I figured he must be well over six feet. I knew he was about fifty and must have been over two hundred pounds, even though he was very trim. He had a full head of a near-white hair and his cleanly shaven face displayed only tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. As men go, I guessed he was quite handsome.

"Are you Chinese, Jacqui?" How could I answer and not lie? I was never a big liar, but telling little white lies had never been a problem for me.

"I look Chinese, Oriental at least, but I honestly don't know, sir. My mother gave me up for adoption when I was born." That was the truth.

"Ah," he spoke with only the slightest German accent, but his speech was more cultured and refined than most Americans and I guessed that he hadn’t been raised here. "I see.

"If you cannot to guess, I am from Germany, but happily a citizen of the United States of America for many decades."

Feeling I should at least try to converse, I thought to try stay on neutral topics. "I've never been outside the United States. I've heard that Germany is very beautiful, sir."

"My dear," he put his hand over mine, I will call you Jacqui as you asked, even though Pretty Jacqui would be much more appropriate." I blushed as he threw me a devastatingly warm smile. "It is an order that you must call me Kurt," he chuckled, "Kurt mit eine K"

"Javohl, mein Herr ist Kurt mit eine K." I giggled. Having studied it for two years in high school, my German was slightly better than my Spanish. He laughed too and said something I didn't understand. I caught 'kleins Fraeulein' and 'ist nicht eine Dummkopf', but not the full meaning. I had to get us back to English.

"Mein Herr Kurt mit eine K, sie sprechen Englisch nicht Deutsch Sprachen mit Jacqui die Magd, bitte!" We both started to laugh.

That broke the ice for me and we made small talk and some not so small. He told me about his company, but there wasn’t much I didn’t already know. I did learn that he had been married to Erica for twenty-six years, after meeting her at the university in Heidelberg. They had married quite young, but she had died three years ago after a brief illness. It obviously still pained him to talk about her. It seemed to me that they had been very much in love and shared their lives together. For a moment, I felt sorry for myself as I realized that I would probably never get that opportunity with Carla.

He also loved good food and wine, the theater and good music. I mentioned that I liked Strauss and loved to waltz, although once I said it, I realized that I had never waltzed as a woman. God, I hoped he didn't ask me to go dancing!

"I shall take Jacqui to the ball then," he said, instantly dashing my hopes. I had lit him up and was suddenly very worried that I'd gone too far and too fast. "Jacqui will be the prettiest lady there and all of the others will be very jealous." He hit me with that smile again and again I blushed. This guy was putting the moves on me and they were working!

"Please say you will come with me," he said as I finally looked back up.

Was he serious? Fortunately, my next words caused him to change the subject.

"We just met. I can’t accept an invitation to a ball with a stranger, Kurt."

"Ah, but of course. First, we must get to know each other. I will take you out for an elegant dinner first. How about Friday night? I’ll pick you up at seven o'clock and we’ll dine together."

What a relief, I had a good excuse to say no. "I’m sorry Kurt," I said it demurely, but with some real remorse, I am on duty every Friday, Saturday and Sunday."

"Don’t worry," he said, with a smile brightening his face, "This is not a problem. I will simply speak to your employer."

Then he leaned close to me and whispered, "Don’t worry, I’m one of her biggest accounts. She’ll do whatever I ask."

My God, I thought, he thinks I want to go out with him and only Carla's preventing it. "Kurt, du bist eine stubborn Kraut!" I said firmly. Then I watched as he tensed, his entire expression changing from playfulness, to intense scrutiny, to dawning awareness.

"Ist unglaublich!" Kurt whispered after sucking in his breath. He was shaking his head in denial as he stared carefully into my eyes.

"John? It is you, John," he still whispered. My heart stopped. I felt a sickening grip in my lungs. I couldn’t move or speak for several moments. Then I tried to cover myself.

"Who’s John?" I finally managed a small smile. "Why did you call me John, Kurt?" I giggled. "I'm Jacqui, Ms. Martin's maid."

"Of course." His knowing smile said everything. "We spoke of our date on Friday. I will pick you up at seven o'clock then." His smile continued to broaden.

"I have already told you that I cannot because I’m on duty, Kurt."

"And I have already told you that I would have words with your employer over the matter." He grabbed my wrist and I was startled at the strength of his grip, it was like a vise.

"Come with me, my little Jacqui. Let us find Carla and I will show you that I will have my way in this." I had no choice. I had to scamper quickly on my toes to avoid falling, as he strode across the flagstones. I could see heads turn and hear laughter as I minced helplessly along behind him in my ridiculously high heels. I could feel my humiliation begin to rise, but I had to concentrate so hard just to keep up with Kurt, that it didn’t hit me until we stopped, facing Carla.

"Carla," he waited for her to turn and face us, "please come inside? I will speak with you regarding this maid." I thought she had glared at me earlier, but that was a smile compared to the look on her face now.

"Yes." She forced a smile onto her face and led the way to the library.

"Please sit down, Kurt?" Though he'd released his grip, he left me standing. I was very anxious. No good could come from this.

"Sit!" Ms. Martin snarled. I curtseyed and obeyed the order, perching on the edge of a wing chair, with my legs tucked carefully to the side and my ankles crossed. She turned to him. "I hope you didn’t have a problem with my maid, Kurt?" her voice softened somewhat as she realized she was addressing Kurt and not me. "Was she rude?"

"No. Jacqui is a most polite girl." He smiled at me indulgently. "In fact, I am so enchanted with her, I would like to take her out to dinner this Friday evening," he stated.

Her reply was reflexive, "Jacqui cannot accompany you on a dinner date. It’s simply impossible." I was so relieved I got weak and my hands trembled.

"Yes, she has informed me that you require her here on duty."

Carla smiled. "That is correct, Kurt. She is on duty every Friday, Saturday and Sunday too."

"She has told me this also. I am pleased that it was the truth."

"Still, Jacqui will be ready when I arrive on Friday evening at seven o'clock." Kurt was a stubborn German. He remained firm and confident.

" Kurt? I said No! No to this Friday and, I must add, no to Jacqui dating you at all. It's just not appropriate for my maid to date my clients."

"Kurt is a very good listener. He also observes very well." I was becoming unglued, something told me that I would be forced into a horrid situation I wanted desperately to avoid.

"I trust that the director of my favorite consulting firm also is a good listener." I was becoming more and more worried.

"First, I will tell you what this good listener has heard. Several moments ago, I heard exact words that I have heard only once before," he paused and smiled at me. "Your maid said to me, 'Kurt, du bist eine stubborn Kraut!' Only one person has ever said anything like this to me, especially in German. Even when we are joking, a German would never say 'Kraut' to another German.

"As I have said, I’ve only heard those same words once before. Their voices are somewhat similar, once you think to listen for it, but I like Jacqui's more than John's." When Ms. Martin's jaw dropped, Kurt’s conclusion was confirmed for the second time. She recovered quicker than I had though.

"John? Who is John?"

"Carla, do not force your best customer to look for another company to do my work." The silence was deafening. Only the quiet ticking of the antique grandfather clock broke it. Finally, Carla managed to speak.

"Are you gay?" she asked.

"No. I have no desires for a man."

"Then why, if you know that Jacqui is..."

"A very pretty girl? This is what I know. I asked your pretty girl maid for a date. Then we shall see." He stood and extended his hand to help me up.

"Come along, Jacqui. Let us have something to eat." I pleaded to Carla with my eyes. But hers held no hope and the color had drained from her face; she said nothing and wouldn’t even meet my gaze. After a moment, I looked up at Kurt, who really had a very endearing look on his face, neither triumphant nor gloating, but instead rather admiring. I smiled shyly and accepted his hand. I got up as gracefully as I could, though my legs still felt weak.

He no longer had to use his physical strength to force me to tag along beside him. His psychological grip was now far stronger than any his muscles could possibly exert. He got me another soda, a beer for himself and led me to the grill.

"What would you like to eat, my little maid?" Even though he was blackmailing Ms. Martin and me, he was still the perfect gentleman. Melissa made her way to my side while he retrieved a couple of hamburgers for us.

"You going to do any work this afternoon or just goof off, Jacqui?"

"I'm doing exactly what I've been ordered to do." I glared at her and she scowled at me. "Talk with Ms. Martin, she'll explain it to you, I'm sure. But just be careful, I’m not happy about this and neither is she."

"Are you OK?" Now, Melissa sounded concerned.

"Oh, I'm fine," I lied, but my voice gave me away. I could see in Melissa’s eyes that she knew I wasn’t telling the truth, but before she could quiz me, an unwelcome voice intruded rudely.

"Hey babe," Oh no! I wanted to scream! It was Jim Wilson. "How ’bout another kiss for your good buddy Jim?"

I didn't think about it, the words just came out. Later, as I lay in bed revisiting the scene over and over again, I still couldn’t come up with a reason for why I said what I did. At least I couldn’t come up with a reason I was ready to accept.

"Kurt, help me, please?" I turned back to Jim's lecherous grin.

"I asked you for a kiss." He grabbed my wrist and started to pull me towards him, but then I felt my petticoats pressed into the back of my thighs. A moment later, a warm presence was pressed up against my back.

"Jacqui is with me," Kurt stated quietly.

"All I want’s a kiss," Jim repeated, now somewhat petulantly.

Then, I did something else, I couldn’t understand. I moved to Kurt's side, took his arm and wrapped it around my waist. He pulled me in tightly.

"I'll tell you what I want," I said, rather aggressively, "I want you to leave me alone! I'm not some toy for you to feel up and kiss so that your friends can laugh at me again, sir!"

Wilson sulked back into the crowd.

"Thanks for being here, Kurt." I looked up into his face and patted his hand where it hugged my belly. I stood there with him, feeling both safe and badly confused. Melissa caught my eye and raised a single eyebrow in comment before she strutted away into the crowd. I watched her, feeling rather small. Although she was a maid, she still had incredible presence. She made Jim Wilson seem like some kind of insect.

I talked with Kurt throughout the rest of the afternoon. Though I had serious reservations about what I had to do on Friday, I decided not to think about it.

As the party was breaking up, Kurt brought it up. "I shall be very much looking forward to seeing you on Friday, Jacqui. I promise you a very elegant dinner at one of the finest restaurants I know."

"How should I dress?" I asked.

"A cocktail dress or a long gown. I will wear my tuxedo." I gulped and my eyes widened.

"What’s wrong? Ah, I know. You are going to tell me that you are just a maid," he chuckled, "and have nothing appropriate to wear. I understand." All I saw was that he was looking at my face and smiling. I was surprised when his fingers went down between my breasts then backed out before I could react. The next thing I sensed was something stiff between my breasts, even though both his hands were now visible as he reached around me and drew me to him.

Two men had kissed me before Kurt. Both had tried to push their tongues between my lips and into my mouth. Unlike those two, there was no darting tongue thrusting at my lips, Kurt's lips were gentle and warm and, surprisingly, I savored them instead of recoiling. Still, I was glad when he withdrew and said good night.

Once he'd left, I went back to work, cleaning up the mess with Melissa. She waited until the other guests had left or gone inside before talking to me.

"OK, I'm listening. What's going on, Jacqui?"

"The man I was with all afternoon is Kurt Mark, our… uhh, uhh. Mr. Marks’ company is our biggest customer He asked me out to dinner before he read me."

"What do you mean, 'read' you?"

"Figured out who I was before I became a maid." I admitted sadly.

"So he’s gay, or bi," Melissa concluded, happens to the cutest guys," she shrugged, "and he is cute.

"Now that he knows, I guess he wants you that much more, huh?"

"But why did you hang with him the rest of the afternoon? You made it pretty clear to me that you wanted no part of men, Jacqui." It was understandable that Melissa got it wrong.

"He forced me, Melissa, he’s blackmailing Carla and me. We have to do what he wants to keep his business." I’m sure my body language and words didn’t match. I was confused. I didn’t want to like what was happening, but in some strange way, I did. Melissa just let out a long whistle and looked at me strangely.

After a few very long seconds she said, "Let’s clean up and go to bed."

We didn't see Ms. Martin before retiring to our quarters that night. When I slipped out of my uniform, something fell from between my breasts. I knew it was there, but in the rush to clean up I'd forgotten about it. Melissa picked it up. She unfolded ten, one hundred dollar bills.

"What's this for?" she asked, handing the damp money to me and smiling as if she had just discovered my biggest secret. I blushed.

"I think that my date wants me to buy a pretty dress," I admitted shyly. It made sense. Grinning broadly, Melissa shook her head.

"You can borrow my car tomorrow, if you want. It is your day off."

"I thought you weren’t going to loan me your car until I got a license in Jacqui’s name," I said, trying to sound like I had been wronged, somehow.

Just don’t get stopped by the cops," she said," cause you’ll have a hard time convincing them you’re John Ingram." Then she laughed. I could only smile.