Normally, no more than a four inch reduction is recommended for new figure training.

It had been one of the most humiliating days of my entire life.

I didn't need to look to know what I would see. There would be a cute, submissive maid and a strong, dominant mistress.

Jacqui

By

Karen Anne Summerfield and Kelly Ann Rogers
 © August 2002

Part III - New Uniforms and Corsets

Other than a rather imposing display of corsets, there was nothing obviously different from the high quality merchandise that I'd seen in other, up-scale clothing shops.

"Good morning, Miss," a tall woman greeted Ms. Martin. "I am Jayne, how may I help you."

"Ah, Jayne, we spoke on the phone. I’m Carla Martin."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Martin. You are right on time and we are ready for you." She turned to examine Melissa and me. I could tell by the look on her face that she did not seem to approve of us.

"You two run in there and get undressed," she ordered. "Leave on your stockings and shoes - nothing else." Neither one of us moved for a moment; Melissa didn't like this any more than I did. We looked instead to Ms. Martin, who simply reminded us of her recent order by cocking her eyebrow at us.

Another woman, who introduced herself as Suzanne, came in as we undressed.

"I see that your mistress knows how to keep her maids out of trouble," Suzanne giggled upon seeing our underwear. I felt myself blush red. I don't think I lost that blush the whole time Jayne and Suzanne spent taking a very extensive set of measurements.

"Normally no more than a four inch reduction is recommended for new figure training. This one's a little more than twenty-seven inches" she pointed to me, "and your other maid's is twenty-four and a half inches.

"Fit my First Girl," she nodded at Melissa, "to twenty-two inches and Jacqui to twenty-four. Jacqui, you will be at twenty-three inches in two weeks. The two of you will just have to diet so I can get your figures to where they belong." Ms. Martin said this is as if she was talking about having dogs groomed, rather than people reshaped. I was very unhappy and could feel resentment growing within me.

Two identical looking white corsets were brought in. Suzanne handed one to me and set the other aside. She turned to Melissa.

"Grab the bar over your head and don't let go.

"I'll talk you through putting on your sister's corset," she said to me. "Loosen the laces first." I was shown how to create slack in the stiff, heavy foundation then how to fit it around Melissa, work it under her chastity belt and hook the busk in front. "Now take out all the slack from top to bottom, girl."

I turned and glared at her. "Who do you think you’re calling gir…"

Before I could finish, however, Ms. Martin shouted me down. "Jacqui, how dare you behave like that. You are a maid, or did you forget? Apologize to Suzanne and beg her forgiveness. For being so rude, I’m having your corset fitted to twenty-three inches right now. Anything else out of you and it goes to twenty-two, understand?"

I glared at Carla for a moment. Her stare was unwavering and I wilted quickly. I apologized to Suzanne, including a full curtsey, which made me blush because I was nearly naked. We started in again. Suzanne seemed annoyed by the whole incident and looked at Carla like she had done something totally crazy.

"From the top to the waist and then from the bottom to there, create a uniform gap." As I didn't actually have to tighten the corset very much to accomplish this, it was fairly easy.

"Your turn," Suzanne offered the second corset to Melissa and motioned for me to hold the bar.

Alternating, about a half of an inch at a time, we tightened each other's laces until our corsets were finally tied off once we'd achieved uniform, top to bottom gapsbetween the edges and we each were measured to the waists that Ms. Martin had specified. Melissa looked uncomfortable, but her waist had only been reduced two and a half inches. Mine was down four. I felt miserable from the pain in my chest.

"There will be no complaints tolerated from either of you," Ms. Martin stated. "Until you learn to do it by yourselves, help each other put on your corsets each morning." We just curtseyed.

As we stood there looking at ourselves in the mirrors, a strange thing happened to me. I was bombarded in quick succession with a series of thoughts that surprised the hell out of me. First, I couldn’t get over how sexy we looked. Melissa already had hips, so the small reduction in her waist gave her a terrific figure. She looked like a curvy woman. but I had hardly any hips at all, so drawing in my waist by four inches actually gave me a woman’s figure for the first time in my life.

But that wasn’t all, as my eyes flashed back and forth between my own reflection and Melissa's, I realized that I was jealous that Melissa had a smaller waist than I did, even though her corset was not as tightly laced as mine.

The thing that was most amazing to me was that I was thinking these things despite the real discomfort I felt. I had never been compressed like this and the pain in my ribs was much worse than the discomfort in my abdomen. Plus, I was stuck taking small breaths and was feeling a little light headed. I guess it all showed on my face.

"Jacqui, you don't look too happy right now." Ms. Martin noted. "From all those corset pictures I found on the computer, I thought you would be ecstatic to finally be wearing one." Then she giggled.

I was mortified! How did she find those pictures? Why was she telling everyone about them? I could feel my face flush and, as I looked down, I could see the blush run down onto my chest as well. I looked up at her with pleading eyes, although I don’t even know what I was pleading for - maybe it was to be shot. I was dying. The corset hurt, I was having difficulty breathing and I had just been humiliated in front of strangers.

Ms. Martin went on as if I had done nothing more than smile benignly. "I'm sure you’ll just love being tightly laced from now on. I do so enjoy being able to give the people I love something they’ve always dreamed of."

"Do you know what," she turned to Jayne, "Jacqui wants to get down to twenty inches, just like girls used to do in the fifties." Both Melissa and I freaked, staring at her bug eyed. Jayne had everything she could do to keep from laughing aloud. She barely contained her giggles behind her hand. Carla went on. "I know Melissa will be jealous, but she has such nice hips, I’m not sure she’ll look that nice even if her waist isn't that small." Here, her tone changed from playful to ominous, "But if she really wants it, I may let her lace herself that tightly as well."

That was obviously a threat. I had been punished already for talking when I should have kept my mouth shut, which, I was beginning to realize, was all the time. Carla was letting Melissa know that it could happen to her as well.

Right, I was not enjoying this at all!

Once we had been fitted with our corsets, new measurements were taken and our mistress left with Jayne to workout the particulars of her order.

"You are free to look around while we quickly alter a new uniform for each of you. Feel free to try on anything you like," Suzanne said as she scooped up the uniforms we'd worn to the shop. She pulled aside the curtains that had provided some degree of privacy while we were being fitted.

She approached me, our uniforms bundled to her bosom. "If you ever want a job, talk to me. You'd make great mannequin, Jacqui. Your height and slim hips are a real advantage." I was stunned and could only curtsey to acknowledge the offer and Suzanne's warm smile.

It was embarrassing to be left standing there so exposed; our breasts weren't even covered. Instead, they were lifted to prominent display by the small cups of our corsets. I could just imagine what we would look like in a low cut uniform. Our breasts would be bursting to get out.

Driving back to the house was the worst experience yet. Sitting behind the wheel in a comfortable car seat is anything but comfortable in the stiff corset!

As I was holding the car door so Ms. Martin could get out, she turned to me and said, "Jacqui, the lawn is starting to look a bit ragged. When have you scheduled the lawn people in?

"Er... I haven't, mum. I'll attend to it right away, mum," I stammered defensively. With everything that had been going on the past few days, I'd entirely forgotten that I'd been given this responsibility. I figured I'd continue to use the same service the former owners of the estate had used.

"Do call around and obtain several quotes, then consult with the First Girl before selecting one.

"Melissa, you've not forgotten too, have you?" she asked.

"Forgotten what, mum?"

"That you've the responsibility for running the household and the budget?"

"No, mum, I hadn’t, but I didn’t want to push you on it while we were settling in. I’m ready to meet with you at any time to work out a budget. Thank you for bringing it up, mum," Melissa answered.

Wow, I thought, Melissa had handled that so diplomatically. I could see that I had a lot to learn from her techniques.

Before doing anything else, I went to the desk in the downstairs kitchen and set up appointments with three contractors, including the existing one, to come in over the next two days to give quotes on a ground's maintenance contract. I found it most comfortable to simply perch the edge of my butt on a stool as I talked on the phone. As long as I sat upright, my corset didn’t dig too deeply into my sides or abdomen. Once I had the appointments set up, I went up and changed my shoes to ones with low, fat heels.

"Where are you going?" Melissa stopped me by the outside door in the kitchen. She scowled, glaring at my shoes.

"I'm going to look over the property to determine the extent of the work we’ll need to keep it looking just right," I explained. "My high heels are not very practical for walking on the lawn," I thought it best to figured I’d explain before being challenged on my decision.

"Very well," she turned back to selecting things from the cabinets.

The tour of the grounds took up most of the afternoon. It was a pleasant day and I felt good being out in the fresh air and feeling my skirt and petticoats brushing against my stockinged thighs. I even swished my petticoats around a little with my hands to enhance the feeling. I felt rather giddy for a few moments to be dressed as I was in such a beautiful place. Yes, I wanted out of my chastity belt and the corset was too tight, but I tried not to think about those things. It was by now quite clear that my wanting and Ms. Martin's permitting were not the same.

There, I had said it again, 'Ms. Martin'. I wasn't sure whether thinking of her that way was a good thing or not, but since it was part of the roles we had agreed to play, I decided that I wasn't going to dwell on it, but I just couldn't get it out of my mind. I thought it peculiar to be calling my wife Ms. anything. It was so ... so, so distancing. Yes, that's what bothered me about it. It set us apart from each other. I guess under the circumstances, with both of us learning to play new roles, it made sense, but still, it left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

That train of thought was interrupted when I slipped slightly and the corset reasserted its hold on my attention by digging into my side. Having worn the corset for several hours, I concluded that it was not the torture device the fiction I'd read hyped it up to be. It had hurt when I was driving, but actually hadn't really hurt me since. In fact, if I thought about it properly, I could see that its constriction was nice - much the same feeling that I'd had when wearing a good panty girdle. I had to admit too, that I just adored the improvement to my figure, which now looked absolutely stunning in my new fitted uniform. I began to wonder what I would look like with bigger breasts forcing their way out of the lacy white bodice.

Because I had a little time before I had to return to the house, I sat for a while and reflected upon the situation I was in. Since becoming Jacqui less than two weeks ago, I'd been so busy that I had very little opportunity to think it all about anything. The best thing was that I hadn’t had a drink since I had become Jacqui the maid and it had not been nearly as difficult as I feared it would be. Sure, I craved a drink, especially in the evenings. I had trouble sleeping still, but it was all of a sudden possible to imagine a life without alcohol. I could like that.

In addition, I liked dressing as Jacqui, or more correctly, I liked being Jacqui. As I sat there, my back held straight by the corset, I put my hands on my hips and traced the now curving form of my torso up to my breasts, which I cupped gently for a few moments before running my palms up over the nipples and onto the curving slope that led to my shoulders. They were small, but they were real, and now I was wearing clothes that enhanced them, instead of hiding them, as I had done all these years. That was really nice.

I had never had any fantasies about Jacqui ending up as a maid. I just wanted to be a normal woman with a job and a career that employed my education and background. When I'd been in the office, I used to play 'what if'. What if I was Jacqui, sitting here and working? What would I be wearing that day? I chuckled as I remembered some of the outfits I'd imagined - usually a turtle neck with a tight mini skirt that went with the suit jacket I'd have hung on the back of my office door. High heels were a staple of my chosen outfits and there'd be knee boots on colder days.

'Well,' I thought, as I looked at my thighs, 'you've gotten your wish about your mini skirt with this uniform, Jacqui.' I stood, smoothed my dress and apron then walked back to the house.

"Ms. Martin wants to see you in the living room," Melissa informed me when I came inside.

"You wanted to see me, mum," I curtseyed.

"Yes, I saw you outside. What were you doing?"

"Looking over the property to decide the extent of the work that the contractors should bid on," I replied, curtsying again. "One is coming in the morning and two will be here the following day."

"Very well." She grinned at me and said, "You look pretty silly out there in full uniform. What else, not pants, have you got that might be more appropriate for that portion of your job?"

"I've a denim jumper that might go with a pull over top and boots, mum." I held my hand to indicate where its hem ended when I answered. "Tights would be appropriate."

"Stockings," she countered. "Go put it on and let me see, Jacqui." I curtseyed to leave. Ms. Martin called me back."

"Wear a petticoat and one of your aprons with it," she added.

After dinner, we were both called into the living room. We stood in front of Ms. Martin, curtsied and directed to have a seat. Ms. Martin lounged back on one of the overstuffed sofas. We perched carefully on the fronts of two armchairs. There was no way we could sit back like that with our corsets.

"Jacqui, Melissa, I’m very pleased with the way things are going. The house is coming along nicely and you two seem to be handling your jobs efficiently. I do hope you are getting along."

"Oh, yes, mum," we chorused back. It was obvious from our voices that we were telling the truth. We were in fact, becoming good friends, even though I found Melissa to be somewhat overbearing at times.

"Your new uniforms will be ready in less than ten days and to allow you to show them off, I’m going to have a housewarming party, two weeks from this Saturday. About thirty people, I think. Girls, before then, I do expect that the entire house will be cleaned, including the windows and all of the guest rooms."

"Melissa, you and I will meet to prepare a menu and list of all that might be needed. And Melissa, just a reminder, I expect the chores to be equally divided, including the outsides of the windows."

"Yes, mum."

Just before being dismissed for the evening, Carla threw in one more surprise.

"I expect that both of you will wear your corsets, laced one inch less tightly than now, if you wish, to bed every night. You may change into a fresh one each morning. If you think that I'll not check on this, you are mistaken - I will. Now off to bed," she said, dismissing us before we could say anything."

Melissa and I quickly settled into a routine that began as soon as our mistress left for the office in morning.

"I want you to start with Ms. Martin's suite, clean it and change the linens, Jacqui, then move onto the guest rooms. Finish each one completely before moving on to the next. I expect half of them completed by noon. I'll start down here. This afternoon, I'll do upstairs and you will finish here, OK?"

"Fine. I'm expecting, Vincent Delveccio from Garden Green here about ten though," I told her.

"Mr. Delveccio, Jacqui", she corrected. "It's not appropriate for you to use first names" I'll call you when he comes. You can change now so you're not delayed." I curtseyed to acknowledge and then went up to the maids' quarters to change. As I walked up the stairs, it occurred to me that curtsying now seemed natural. I didn't even have to think about it. It sure didn't take me long to learn that particular lesson.

Mr. Delveccio turned out to be a well-built guy about my age. He definitely liked what he saw when I curtseyed to him outside the kitchen where Melissa had him wait.

"Good morning, Mr. Delveccio, I'm Jacqui. Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"Vinnie, no need to be so formal. It's my pleasure."

I was embarrassed by the way he blatantly checked me out. He first savored my legs then allowed his eyes to linger on my tight red t-shirt, pushed out by my breasts. Ms. Martin had not approved of the loose, white pull over I'd selected. To make things worse, I had to wear the T along with a pair of clunky platform boots of the same color. Even though I was relatively covered up, I felt terribly vulnerable because I was more appropriately dressed to go clubbing than to show a contractor the scope of work on the grounds.

Mr. Delveccio’s company had held the previous contact so I had him explain what he'd done under it before I showed him what else I thought was needed. We'd been walking around the back lawn, chatting amiably when he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him.

"You are one hot babe, doll-face. Just looking at you makes me want you." He put his hand behind my head and pulled me to him to kiss me. Nothing I could have done would have stopped him. I couldn’t pull away without really using all my strength and then I wouldn’t get very far anyway. Still gripping my head, he began to fondle my right breast. "You are so hot," he breathed out as he leaned in to my face to kiss me.

I kept my mouth tightly shut and wanted to break away, but was more afraid of being hurt than I was of him doing he pleased. Strangely, I didn’t feel repulsed by his kisses and fondling, instead I felt fearful and helpless. I didn’t like being out of control like this.

"Stop fighting me," he growled, cupping my ass and squeezing it hard in his hand. That hurt! I just stopped. I was powerless to do anything else anyway. "You must be very lonely being stuck in a big house like this all the time. You’re just dying to have me fuck you and you know it, doll."

Like Hell I did! Not him or any other guy, but not knowing what he might do, I kept silent and simply glared at him.

Since I had stopped struggling, his actions became gentler and he fondled of my breast and caressed my ass with some finesse. He was trying to do it right.

"Mr. Delveccio, I can't." I managed.

"What do you mean, 'you can't', Jacqui?" His smile evinced disbelief and he had a knowing leer on his face when he leaned down to kiss my neck. I surprised myself by tilting my head back a little to give him better access, but while he was trying to get me hot, I was thinking that just maybe I could talk my way out of this.

"It's a condition of my employment."

"Huh?"

"I'm forbidden to have sex when I'm on duty. Ms. Martin is very strict about this. Please, just let me go?" With his hands on my waist, he pushed me to arms length so he could examine me. At least I'd stopped him for a moment.

"I really can't. I'll be fired," I pleaded, looking back towards the house with forced panic in my eyes. "Please?"

Vinnie pulled me close again. "Just stand still, I promise, I won’t hurt you." When he released his hold, I debated about running for the house, but believed he'd easily catch me and it might only anger him. "I won’t hurt you," he repeated.

For several minutes, he gently caressed my breasts and nipples. He kissed me and when I still kept my mouth closed, he stopped for a moment and said, "Open your mouth; kiss me back."

What could I do? I was trapped and we both knew it. I had talked him out of trying to fuck me, but the payment for that, apparently, was to neck with him, I did.

For nearly five minutes, he kissed me and played with my ass and my breasts, focusing on my nipples. He was a strong man and held me with great confidence. He knew how to kiss and caressed my hair in a most tender way as he did. Those few minutes were a kind of passage for me. Other than, Bill, I had never kissed a man before and had never wanted to. I had never been held by a man before, either, and I certainly had never been held by a man as if I was a sexual object. I was strictly heterosexual.

I continued to be surprised that I didn’t find kissing this man and being fondled by him totally repulsive. In fact, I began to realize that if I hadn't been so terrified and then so angry when I finally got over the terror, I might have enjoyed it. By that time he very tenderly gave me a last kiss then walked me toward the house, I was very confused. I was angry now, but no longer scared. I was also a little aroused. This scared me even more. Trying to sort my thoughts out, I just stood still by the back door for a long time after I had seen his truck drive away. Oh, well, I thought, that’ll never happen again.

Still very upset when I reentered the house, I resumed the chores I'd been assigned, hoping that keeping busy would calm me down. I didn’t tell Melissa what had happened because I already knew what she would say, 'Deal with it girl'.

The other two contractors came the next day and, though they obviously admired me, they never did anything but behave as gentlemen. I decided to ignore the issue of the grounds until I'd reviewed all three bids, if I did get three, which I doubted.

It turned out that Friday evening was payday. Melissa handed me a bank envelope after she had attended our mistress. "Here's your pay, Jacqui." She stood by, waiting for something. I then remembered that I owed her money and opened the envelope. It contained only one hundred, forty-four dollars and seventeen cents. I'd taken home more than that at my first job in high school.

Sighing, I handed over the one hundred dollars I owed.

"Thank you. Is there anything you want me to buy for you when I do the shopping tomorrow?" she asked. "I'll be going with Ms. Martin in the morning."

"I'll give you a list in the morning, if that's OK?" I told her.

Saturday I was left alone to do chores while Melissa accompanied Ms. Martin for the day. Initially I felt cheated, having to stay home and work, but got over it once I got started. I spent almost three hours in the giant library dusting. What with all the knick-knacks, shelves, and pictures, one could spend a career keeping this room clean.

That night, when we had cleaned up after dinner, Ms. Martin directed me to turn my back to her. I felt her fingers run up the rows of eyelets on the back of my corset through my dress.

"Melissa, turn." She repeated her inspection, for the first time inspecting us to see that we were properly laced.

"Punishment time," she said flatly. "Jacqui?"

It wasn't fair! I hadn’t done anything wrong! I'd obeyed!

"Remove the First Girl's uniform." My sigh of relief was audible.

"You surprise me, Melissa. I never expected it would be you who'd be punished for this." Ms. Martin looked at me with a snicker.

"Adjust her corset so it is properly laced, Jacqui." She sat to watch. "Once it is then take out another inch, top to bottom."

"Ms. Martin... mum, you can't. It’ll kill me!" Melissa tearfully protested.

"Her corset is to remain on and that tight until Monday morning, Jacqui. Understood?"

"Yes, mum," I replied, appalled by the severity of Melissa's punishment. I never knew that Carla had such a mean streak in her. I began to tighten the laces as I'd been ordered, although I wasn’t happy about it.

"If there’s ever a second offense, your corset will be tightened just as Jacqui's doing now and you'll wear it like that for an entire week." I believed she was serious.

I didn't need to see the misery on Melissa’s face to guess how it felt to be so tightly laced. The amount of effort needed to complete my task was a very good indicator. It took me nearly half an hour to finish. Melissa was silently crying and gasping for breath.

"Get dressed and return to your chores," Carla left without another word, or even a glance at her sister. I glared at her back, impotently.

Melissa had a terrible night. Her discomfort was so great that she couldn't sleep. After listening to her sob for about twenty minutes, I climbed down and got into bed with her.

"It’ll be OK. I'll hold you so you can sleep. Changing position until we found the one that was the least uncomfortable, I held on to her sobbing body, caressing and comforting her. Very gradually, the sobs subsided and her breathing slowed. It helped her gain some rest, but in the morning, her corset hurt her ribs that much more. She could barely stand on her own as I tended her needs and got her properly dressed. There was no way that she could stand the torture for another twenty-four hours. I told her to stay upstairs while I prepared breakfast.

"May we talk, mum?" I asked while serving breakfast. She looked at me skeptically. I intended to beg her to let Melissa loosen her corset.

"Where is the First Girl this morning, Jacqui?" Carla's (I somehow couldn't think of her as Ms. Martin. I was mad at Carla and using her formal name seemed so neutral) tone was cold. "Why isn't she on duty?"

"She is in considerable pain. Her overly tight corset is killing her, mum."

"I seriously doubt that," she snorted. "I wear corsets too you know. Melissa should have considered the consequences of her actions before being disobedient. Run up and tell her to get on duty now!"

"But, mum..." She cut me off.

"Do not earn a punishment for yourself, Jacqui. Do as you were told."

"No Carla, I won’t." She looked up at me, her emerald eyes blazing. I didn’t back down and met her fire with my own. I was just as angry and believed I held the moral high ground. "There is no reason to cause so much pain for such a trivial offense."

"Jacqui, I’ll…"

She tried to shout over me, but I wouldn’t let her. "No! You’re wrong. Melissa is in great pain. I’m going upstairs to loosen her corset. It’s not like you to inflict pain on people you love, and if you think I’m going to let you do it to your sister, you’re wrong. I was stupid enough to put up with it when you did it to me that first day at the store, but no more. I’ll be your maid, but not your slave or your prisoner. I didn’t sign up for a term on Devil’s Island."

Her palms were on the table and her shoulders hunched over them as if she was about the jump up, but she didn’t move. Instead, she stared at me like an angry laser beam, not saying anything. I stared back, my hands balled up into fists and thrust hard against my hips. My legs were spread and I was breathing rapidly, deep breaths were impossible since our corsets had first been put on us at the store. Then, very slowly, I could see the fire inside her subside. She let out a long breath and said, "Go loosen Melissa’s corset then the two of you meet me in the library."

"Melissa?" I called as I went up the stairs,

"Are you crazy?" she said when I reached the first landing.

She was sitting at her vanity where she'd been finishing her makeup. Though obviously in pain, Melissa stood up straight to face me.

"I’m going to loosen your corset then we have to go speak with Ms. Martin. I think I might have upset her."

She looked at me as if I was totally crazy. "Might have upset her?"

I giggled, releasing a flood of pent up anxiety. I was so relieved I had answered her back teasingly as I spun her around to get at her laces, "Yeah, maybe, I’m not sure." Then we both giggled.

After I had gotten her corset back to its original size, I offered my hand to go down the steps with her, but she grabbed me instead into a fierce hug. "Oh thank you Jacqui, thank you so much."

"I don’t know how I would have survived and I never would’ve had the courage to ask Ms. Martin to loosen it. I love you for taking care of me." She gave me a big kiss on the lips and another hug then we walked downstairs to confront our tormentor.

As soon as we got into the library, we both curtseyed then Melissa stepped forward. "Good morning, mum. I'm sorry I disobeyed you."

Carla had a sort of sorrowful look on her face, but her demeanor turned cold as she replied to Melissa. "I trust your punishment made sure you are sorry. There's no need to tell me. Both of you, delete 'sorry' from your vocabularies. I never wish to hear either of you say it again.

Then she really softened and slumped back into the sofa. "Actually, I guess I’m the one who should be sorry. I over reacted and misjudged the consequences of my actions. I apologize, Melissa, I never intended to cause you real pain."

"Thank you mum." Melissa curtseyed.

"Please let me know if I step over the line again. I don’t want to drive you away." She looked up at Melissa, her face pleading for Melissa to accept what she had said.

Now it was time for Melissa to be hard-hearted. Seeing that she now had the upper hand emotionally, she stayed cold and distant and the ‘Yes, mum’ and the curtsey she next executed were as much an insult to her sister, as they were was a sign of submission to her employer. Carla sagged a little more and gave up. Once again Melissa had shown me how even a maid can take command of an interaction with her boss.

"Please prepare my breakfast, Melissa.

"Jacqui, wait here, Melissa was being dismissed so we could talk privately.

"Yes, mum."

"Jacqui, come sit with me." I moved over to the sofa and, unsure of myself, curtseyed before sitting down. Carla smiled at me indulgently. "I don’t think that was necessary."

I put my hands behind my legs and pulled my petticoats and skirt forward so I could perch on the edge of the sofa. Then, after sitting, I purposefully straightened everything out, folded my hands in my lap before looking up. Following Melissa’s lead, I was making my boss wait for me for a change. She wasn’t off the hook yet. Carla’s eyes were sparkling when I finally looked into them.

"You are just adorable. How are you Jacqui?"

That caught me completely off guard and my resolve to be tough fled instantly. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but figured the truth wouldn’t hurt, so I said, "In general, just fine, on occasion, like when men hit on me, confused. Last night I was furious and now I’m worried."

"Oh, please don’t worry," she rushed out, while reaching over to put her hand on mine. It was the first time she had touched me with any affection since making me her maid. "You did the right thing. I was foolish and risked driving Melissa and you away. I’m afraid I haven’t figured out this mistress thing yet."

The vulnerability in her words and face melted my heart. All of a sudden, I started to sob. "Carla, I’m lonely. I miss you."

"I know, honey, I miss you too. It’s just that I don’t know how to have you be both my maid and my…my…" she blinked her eyes a couple of times and then said, "What are you, Jacqui?" I didn’t know. The realization hit me like a hammer. I was Jacqui! I wasn’t really John anymore. So how could I still be Carla’s husband? My sobbing increased.

"I don’t know what I am, but I miss you." Now I was blubbering and had to use my apron as a tissue. Carla reached over and hugged me, and we sat there together for quite some time, wrapped in each other’s arms

Finally, we sat up and Carla said to me. "Jacqui, I need to think, but I know one thing for sure. You will remain my maid for now. Now please take me in for breakfast."

I got up and curtseyed. "Yes mum, thank you, mum." I reached out my hand and Ms. Martin took it. Carefully, I helped her to her feet and stood there looking at each other fondly for a few moments.

"Jacqui, please go tell the First Girl that I’m ready to eat now. I’ll be there in few moments." I bobbed my acknowledgement and turned to go into the kitchen. On a whim, I wiggled my butt at Ms. Martin as I left. When I heard her giggle, I knew I had done the right thing and without turning around, bobbed another quick acknowledgement at the door. It felt just wonderful to be able to be affectionate with Carla again.

Near mid-day, Ms. Martin ordered us to our quarters.

"Just to show you that I'm not the complete bitch you both must think I am," she started, weakly smiling at us to admit her shame, "I’m taking you both out to dinner tonight. We will do it just like we did on that first night. You may wear whatever you wish. Jacqui we’ll drive in John’s car. I’ve already made reservations at Tony’s and I’m ordering you both to loosen your corsets by one inch so you can enjoy the food.

"Jacqui," she said imperiously, but with a smile on her face, "re-lace her corset to my requirements," nodding at Melissa and giggling at the same time. I wasted no time carrying out her order. Then Melissa returned the favor to me. Except for when we bathed, this was the first time my waist had been allowed to expand to more than twenty-three inches since our corsets had first been fitted.

"You may both relax up here, doing as you wish until dinner. Melissa, I’d like to spend some time with you a little later, if that’s okay?"

"Yes, mum, thank you, mum." she said, her voice filled with happiness at the prospect.

Ms. Martin tried to be tough one more time before she left. "Let me see no repeat of this incident. I will not be so lenient with you in the future." Melissa, let a giggle escape her lips almost immediately and a breath later we were all laughing.

Melissa, though still uncomfortable after being so tightly laced for so many hours, was doing quite a bit better by the time I tied off.

"Thanks, Jacqui, I owe you."

"For what?"

"You helped more than you might realize, holding me last night and then coming to my rescue with Ms. Martin earlier and, well, just for being here." She gave me a hug then started to play with my nipple though my cotton bodice. That was very pleasant.

"It's said that only a girl can really turn another girl on," Melissa giggled. I pushed her hands down.

"We shouldn't." I wasn’t really trying to stop her; I was just trying to see if she was serious. When she let go of me and turned away, I thought it was over and reluctantly, I went up to our living area. A few minutes later, Melissa joined me there. Her lips were bright red and glistened in the light.

"Come here, sweetie," she said, holding something behind her back." I put down my embroidery and walked over to her like a shy little schoolgirl.

"Remember what I told you the other night? I hate kissing dry lips" She held up a tube of lipstick.

"Oh, yes," I said a little breathlessly and then I puckered my lips so she could coat them with the creamy color. Once she put the tube on the table, I allowed her to lead me to the couch. Even though I was a little bigger than Melissa, she pushed me onto my back and got on her hands and knees above me. She gave me the biggest, warmest smile and leaned down to kiss me, gently teasing my lips with hers and with her tongue.

After a few minutes of this, she sighed, "I’m so happy that you’re my best friend." We looked into each other's eyes and I couldn’t wait any longer. I reached up and pulled her to me so we could impale each other with our tongues, which we did without any hesitation whatsoever.

There’s a lot to be said for having your nipples worshiped intensively for a half hour or so, even in the strange context of not being able to use your genitals for relief, or anything else for that matter. Instead of being in a frenzy of ever increasing arousal that would lead to orgasm, we spent our time in a leisurely exploration and adoration of each other's bodies just for the pleasure of it.

This was a very different kind of experience for me, purely sensual and exquisitely of the moment, with no goal but to enjoy what I was feeling. Knowing I wasn’t going to climax put me in a frame of mind I had never experienced before and allowed me to enjoy Melissa thoroughly and to feel fulfilled, rather than frustrated, when we finished. Even as I yearned for more, I knew that I didn’t need it and, right then, having Melissa suck on my nipples and then kiss my neck was nirvana for me. I began to understand that, despite all the reasons that I hated my chastity belt, there were still lots of sensual pleasures available to me, and Melissa was one of them.

When we were done, we showered together and then laced ourselves back into clean corsets. As Melissa got ready to go spend some time with her sister, she said, "I feel so bad leaving you here alone."

"Oh no, don’t be silly," I replied, I’m going to do my embroidery." I haven’t done any in so long. As she left, I fetched my basket and one my blouses and then went out on the balcony.

That blouse already had a colorful butterfly on each cuff. I stretched the collar to start one there. For the first time since Carla, excuse me, Ms. Martin, had changed me to Jacqui, I was able to forget completely about the hard steel between my thighs for a few hours. I hated this thing, would have taken it off in a flash, but now I could see that I could live with it and not feel totally deprived. More importantly, I thought, it had taught me a lesson about sensuality I never would have learned otherwise. Carla had been right. I needed the chastity belt to learn to think like Jacqui instead of John. I still thought the whole thing was stupid, but now, with the insight of recent experience available to me, it had become tolerable, and perhaps even necessary.

Our days continued to be filled with chores. There were routine things like preparing meals, making up Ms. Martin's rooms, doing the hand laundry and thoroughly cleaning the house. Ms. Martin was getting her wish; we were getting it to museum standards. Melissa was a good teacher and a model of efficiency. I'd never known that here was a 'proper' way to wash dishes until she'd shown me in our quarters.

"First thoroughly rinse everything and put them in separate piles on the counter: glassware, dishes, flatware and utensils, pots and pans then wash everything in that order, Jacqui. That way the glasses are washed in the cleanest water and the really dirty stuff in the dirtiest," she explained.

I couldn’t resist teasing her, she was even more obsessive than me, and I was an engineer. "Melissa, what you say makes sense to me and is logically better than just picking up whatever is nearest," I couldn’t help but giggle, "but didn’t you ever hear of running water?" Everything can be cleaned and rinsed in fresh water."

She looked at me as if I was in idiot. "I don’t believe in wasting water and it is our duty to save our mistress's money. Don’t you know that?"

"Oh pooh, girl," I said back to her. "Our mistress has more money than any maid will ever see, and as far as I’m concerned if she wants clean dishes, we can afford the water."

She looked at me through hooded eyes. "This is my kitchen and you’ll do it my way, understand?"

Uh oh! She was taking this seriously; time for a strategic retreat. I curtseyed and said, "Yes mum. I’ll do whatever you say mum."

She nodded her head at me and turned away. I whispered at her back, "As long as you’re looking, mum." She heard me and started to giggle.

"Oh, you. Just get back to work before I have to spank you." We both laughed as I got back to the dishes.

I had all the bids on the grounds' maintenance by Monday afternoon. Despite his advances toward me when we'd met, I recommended Mr. Delveccio's landscaping company to do the work.

"He seemed the most knowledgeable and he's been doing this estate for ten years. His bid was also the lowest," I explained. Expecting the First Girl's concurrence, I had already arranged for them to come the following morning.

As we did our makeup the following morning, Melissa gave me a shock. "The inside of the house looks to be in reasonably good shape now. You'll start to wash the outside of the windows this morning, Jacqui." I spun around to gape at her. "That way you'll not need to be called away from anything else you start and can keep an eye on the men to assure they do the yard properly.

"More like they can keep their eyes on me, you really mean," I grumbled.

"That too," she giggled. "Start with the upstairs on the side facing the driveway."

I'd learned to take Melissa's orders seriously. She had convinced me that I did not want to find out, first hand, what punishment she might come up with if I disobeyed her.

I'd just climbed up the extension ladder and hung my buckets and tools on painter's hooks when two trucks pulled in. Mr. Delveccio tooted his horn. Being on the rungs of a ladder wearing a pair of sneakers, which Ms. Martin had bought for us just for this kind of job, I knew to descend slowly, thereby providing all the guys with a butt and leg show. At least I was wearing panties so they couldn’t see my chastity belt.

"Good morning, Jacqui," he beamed. As required, I curtseyed.

"Good morning to you too, sir."

He took my hands, pulled me close to him and quietly apologized for taking advantage of me the other day. "But I was just wondering," he went on, "did you get so red because you liked what I was doing to you?" He gave me the cutest, shy smile.

"No! I whispered back to him, trying to keep our conversation private. I tried to sound harsh, but somehow it came wrong; instead, it sounded like I was flirting. I blushed a deep red again. He laughed briefly, kissed me on the cheek and then called over his foreman, a man twice my age, to introduce us. While this was going on I saw the other five ogling me as they unloaded their mowers and other equipment from the trailers.

"Where will you be if I need you, Jacqui?" Manuel, the foreman, asked.

"Up there, washing windows most of the day, sir," I pointed to the nearby ladder.

Though very embarrassed by the exposed situation I was put in, climbing up and down the ladder, moving it to the next window then washing it, there was nothing I could do to prevent them from looking at my legs and up my skirt. I'm sure that I was the subject of their jokes and laughter while they worked.

Several times, different men came over as soon as I'd climbed to the top to ask me questions. I couldn't let them stand under me looking up my skirt and had to climb down to tell them that the toilet in the garage was available for their use, or where the nearest outside faucet was.

I felt so embarrassed by the show I had been forced to put on for them that I wasn't paying attention to my footing and one of my feet caught as I moved the ladder. I stumbled and the aluminum ladder crashed loudly to the ground. One of the guys abandoned his mower and ran over to help me then lifted the heavy ladder as if it was a toothpick.

"Thank you very much," I said as I brushed my uniform.

"No habla ingles, senorita," he grinned, looking at my chest while I consumed most of my Spanish vocabulary trying to thank him, blushing all the while.

"Gracias, Senorita." Why was he thanking me? "Maybe you are not the little cock tease we thought." He could speak English!

That son of a bitch! He calls me a cock tease and then stands there, leering at my tits and they aren’t even that big! My blush must have looked like a bright sunburn as it yet again spread across my face and down to my chest; exposed by the open neck of my bodice. My heart was racing from my acute embarrassment, first over the situation and then my response to it.

Emilio's leering smile was frozen on his face and he didn't turn away, I had to do something, either slap him, or turn away, but I knew if I slapped him he would lose his job. Still, I had to defend my honor somehow. I put a big smile on my face, forced a curtsey and said through my smile, "Emilio, if you ever talk to me like that again I’ll yell rape and let the police deal with you. Don’t even make believe you don’t understand me."

I turned and started to ascend the ladder while he watched. After I had gotten up a few rungs I turned to him and smiled again, "but if you want to help me move the ladder each time I need to, that would be so nice, por favor?" Up until a few moments before, I'd known that Emilio was probably dreaming of my luscious white thighs opening to receive him. Now he was almost certainly thinking about his deportation. At that moment, a shout from the foreman called him back to his job. After that, each worker, one after another, found a reason to be nearby when it was time to move the ladder. Curiously, I didn’t see Emilio the rest of the day.

Despite my small victory, I knew that as they sat in the truck that afternoon on the way back to their shop, they would be regaling each other with tales of what they would do if they could only get me alone. It was only Melissa, checking my work from the inside, when she wasn't laughing hysterically at the scene outside, who was able to ensure that the windows I worked on actually got cleaned.

It had been one of the most humiliating days of my entire life.

"Your boys finish?" Melissa asked when I came in to change.

"No, they'll be back the day after tomorrow to do the flower beds around the house," I told her.

"You probably scheduled it that way so you can have all the fun yourself. You're a real tease, Jacqui."

"Have what fun? Being stared at and laughed at by them? Tell me how much fun you have when you wash the outside of the windows." I shot back, angry at her teasing.

"I will, but it's my turn tomorrow. Like I just said, you scheduled them to skip a day just so you can put yourself on display again," Melissa was giggling very hard and had to sit to catch her breath. Even though I knew she was only teasing, I didn't like it. I stuck my tongue out at her and went up to freshen up and change.

I spent another day on the ladder with the garden crew doing their best to look up my uniform dress. I just decided that this is how things would be and that I would deal with them. In fact, I did my best to use the day to practice some feminine whiles on the men.

"How'd it go today?" Melissa asked when I came into the house.

"Better," I smiled. "You already know what a bitch moving the ladder is. Emilio, one of the guys, and his buddies started doing it for me after I stumbled once on Tuesday."

"I saw that, you are such a little flirt, Jacqui!" she laughed. "Tell me the truth, you see this handsome hunk and prance over wiggling your skinny ass. 'Oh handsome garden man, sir, I'm but a weak little maid and that ladder is just sooo mucho grande. Would you move it to the next window for a poor helpless little maid like me?'"

"Emilio is about five foot two, two hundred pounds and Mexican. He doesn't even speak much English!" I protested.

"Por favor, senor. Yo una petita maida, helpa me?"

I tried to swat her, but she danced out of range, laughing aloud. She was just teasing me and it was actually kinda fun to be able to relate like that.

"Well, think what you want," I replied as snootily as I could. "But you had to move the ladder each time you did a different window yesterday. I never moved it once today. A couple of peeks at my white skinny ass was all took to get those guys to do it for me." I stuck out my tongue at her.

Truth was, I was somewhat startled at the way they fell all over themselves to help me. Whatever they thought about being able to see up my skirt sure didn't hurt when it came time for me to ask them for favors. Are men really that addled, I wondered.

"Melissa, would you come up stairs please and loosen my corset so I can shower," I asked when I came out of my reverie.

"Sorry dearie," she replied. "I'm afraid you'll have to get one of your guys to help you. I'm invulnerable to your charms."

"Melissa," I said in exasperation, I want to take shower, but she didn't answer. Realizing that there are ways to manipulate women as well as men, I started to pout and sulk. After a few minutes of having me around the kitchen with a big pout on my face, Melissa couldn’t take it any more. She came over to see what was going on.

"What’s your problem?" She was taking an aggressive approach.

I looked up at her slowly, trying to create some tension. "Oh, I was just thinking about how bad our bedroom will smell tonight because you wouldn’t let me shower."

"Who won’t let you shower," she shot back.

"Well, you said you wouldn’t help me take off my corset," I had planned to pout some more, but Melissa started laughing again.

"All you had to do was ask properly, but you haven’t yet, have you?"

"What?" I jumped up, I was furious.

"Oh good, you’re up. Turn around, I’ll loosen your laces" While she worked on my laces she started to explain to me. "Listen Jacqui, you’re a dear, but you’re becoming far too submissive. You protected me, but you won’t stand up for yourself. I just wanted to teach you a lesson. Just because you’re a maid, you don’t have to let people take advantage of you. It’s just that sometimes you have to think out of the box to find ways to take care of yourself. Think about that." She kissed me on the back of the neck, patted my fanny and said, "Now go get clean. I want to play later."

I was awakened that night to find Melissa climbing into my bed with me.

"Told you, I want to play," she giggled and had her hand inside my nightshirt and began caressing my breasts before I could react. She was wearing only her corset and her breasts hung enticingly above my face.

"Put this on." I felt a tube meet my hand. "It's lipstick. You know I hate kissing a girl with dry lips."

"Oh, yes, I replied, after the other day, I was more than eager to play with Melissa. I coated my lips with a generous coating of the lipstick then kissed her waiting lips. Even though we had done this before, we were still a little bashful about exploring each other. Still, it did not take us long to become heavily engaged. We’d both been without sex for too long and we raised each other quickly, with our lips, tongues and fingers. Though I tried, I could no more get under the front shield of Melissa's chastity belt than she or I could my own. Our breasts and the rest of our bodies had to suffice and, after what I’d learned the last time, I knew they would.

"On your back, girl," Melissa rolled me over without resistance and parted my thighs with hers while attacking my nipple with her soft mouth. I worked on hers with my hands.

"Corset check, girls," Carla's voice called out as the bright overhead lights blinded us. Oh shit! Neither Melissa nor I could move; we were frozen in place. Carla was staring at us with a look that I thought might kill us.

"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded, her voice hard and cold. "Both of you, get down here! Now!"

Once we had scrambled down from the bed, she started to skewer us both. "Jacqui, I never expected you to cheat on your marriage vows," she said, staring hard at me. I could only look down, shame-faced.

"And you Melissa," she turned on her sister, who unlike me stared right back into Carla's eyes, "you could blow the whole thing. Don't you dare…"

Then, she suddenly stopped talking and looked us over carefully. She softened, a smile starting to form on her face and said to us, "Face each other."

Now that I could see Melissa, it was obvious what had stopped Carla. My red lip prints were all over her body and I didn't need to check to know that hers covered mine.

"Oh God," Carla gasped, and she started to giggle, pointing at us as we looked at each other trying to figure out what was going on. "You two look a sight," she giggled, shaking her head. "Both of you, quickly, face the bed."

She shook out a cloth tape and measured over Melissa's corset; both under her bust and about her waist.

"Very good." She turned and measured me.

"What have we? Your waist is smaller by half an inch! Twenty-two and a half inches, Jacqui? I'm surprised. Have a bit of a corset fetish, do we? Huh?" I blushed, again, looking down and feeling glad she couldn't see my face.

"Okay, both of you turn around." As we did, we saw her stuff the measuring tape into the pocket of her robe and put both her hands on her hips looking at us like a mother who was trying to figure out how to punish to mischievous children. Finally, she just rolled her eyes and kissed each of us on the cheek.

"First Girl, come with me." I was left standing there, trying to figure out what to do with myself as Carla took Melissa downstairs.

As I stood there starting to feel guilty for making out with Melissa even though I was married to her sister, I could hear a heated conversation taking place downstairs in the kitchen. I only caught bits of what they said, when they really raised their voices, and what I heard didn't make any sense to me. I heard Carla say, "don't you dare ruin it…" and "We planned too long."

Melissa didn't say much, but at one point I did hear her shout, "Well, you're not the one shut up in a house and locked in a chastity belt," and "you'll just have to trust me, won't you?" Things got quiet after that.

A few minutes later Melissa came back into the room smiling at me like the cat that had eaten the canary. She didn't seem the least bit upset. "You're place or mine, Jacqui?" she giggled.

"Melissa," I whined, "I can't, not after what she said to me. My God, I was cheating on my wife!"

"Oh pooh," replied Melissa, "she was upset at first, but once I pointed out the reality of the situation, she said not to worry. She insisted I drag you back to bed with me and said she'd talk to you about it in the morning."

"Are you sure?" I asked, "Carla was very upset." I said, as Melissa directed me to the top bunk with a wave of her hand.

"She’s Ms. Martin, Jacqui, and that’s why she wasn’t upset." Carla, John's wife, might have been upset to find John with her sister, but Ms. Martin, Jacqui's employer, had no reason at all to care what her maids get up to. Especially, since we're both in chastity belts."

That set me back for a second. I could see immediately what Melissa meant, but the implications really troubled me. Before I could make much progress figuring out just what those implications might be, Melissa interrupted my train of thought with a question.

"Where'd you put the lipstick?" she asked, as she climbed on top of me again. I handed it to her from the small tray in the headboard. "Pucker up," she went on as soon as she had the top off. I looked at her, still inhibited by doubt, but she just cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. "First Girl is giving you an order and your boss wants you to obey her," she said in a mock serious tone.

I gave in to the moment, puckering my lips and letting Melissa apply the lipstick. It had been a long time since anyone had touched me the way Melissa had. I needed that, so I reached up and gently grabbed her face, pulling her down into a languorous kiss. As we kissed, I began to see that Jacqui the maid had no wife named Carla. There was only Ms. Martin, Jacqui's employer and Ms. Martin apparently didn't mind if the maids shared some affection on occasion.

"Oh yes, kiss me Melissa, I urged, and she did.

The next morning, Ms. Martin had me close the door to the kitchen and sit at the table while she ate breakfast. "Jacqui," she began, "I'm pleased with your progress. You seem to be developing both as a woman and as a maid. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, mum," I replied without looking up. "Jacqui the maid is really quite well-adjusted, I think."

"Good," she replied quickly, not giving me a chance to say anything more. "I just want you to know that it's fine with me if you and Melissa … unh, … comfort each other," she smiled slightly, apparently pleased with the way she had said it, "when you feel the need. And you should also feel free to go out on dates with men, if any should ask."

I looked up and my eyes widened at that, but she just looked at me calmly. "I certainly intend to do the same."

I was stunned. She was going to go out on dates? …And suggesting that I should also? What the hell was going on?

Before I could say anything, she started up again. "I think if this is going to work, we will need to separate from each other emotionally. I am your employer, that's all. You are Jacqui, my second maid. We had no relationship before you came to work at my new house. Is that understood?"

I looked at her aghast. What was she talking about? Wasn't I John, her husband? "But Carla, I'm your hus…"

"I have no husband. You are Jacqui, my maid. Do you understand?" I didn't! I guess she could see that in my face.

She stood up and came over to my seat. "Stand up, Jacqui."

I did, giving her a reflexive curtsey, without even understanding why. That embarrassed me so much that I couldn't look at her and kept my head down and my hands folded in front of my neatly pressed apron.

"Come with me," she reached for my hand and led me over to the large mirror in the entrance hall. "Look," she ordered, "what do you see?"

I didn't need to look to know what I would see. There would be a cute, submissive maid and a strong, dominant mistress. When I did look, I was almost startled with the clear truth of that prediction. There in the mirror was the image of a cute, but fearful maid. Standing just behind her was a stunning, powerful woman. While I seemed totally cowed and insecure, with my shoulders hunched forward and my hands folded carefully in front of me, Carla… no Ms. Martin, was the very picture of strength and self-confidence. Even the way we wore our hair and did our makeup enhanced the difference between us.

"You wanted to be Jacqui," she said. "Now you are. I wanted to run my business, now I am. There is no John here. We have a contract, remember? Now get back to work and shed yourself of the useless illusion that you are anything but a hired maid."

She turned and strode off without even waiting for me to reply. Even her walk seemed powerful to me. I looked back at the mirror for a second. I looked so small and unsure of myself. The way she had laid things out scared me. It sounded as if she was planning to cast me off, to move me out of her life. I knew that Ms. Martin could be very business-like and I had agreed to do this. Truth be told, I was feeling healthier and better about myself than I had in a long while. Maybe the plan Carla had proposed to John was working. I sighed and took one more look at the mirror to be sure my uniform was straight and neat then I went back to work, just as my mistress had ordered. I didn't know what else to do.

"First Girl, the shop called and said your uniforms are ready," Ms. Martin told us a Saturday before the party. "I want you and Jacqui to go there this morning to try them all on."

"Yes, mum," the First Girl acknowledged. "Will there be anything else we should do while we're out?"

"Yes, after picking up your new uniforms, I want you to stop at a new shoe store in the city, which just opened the other week. I'll give you their address and what I'd like for each of you. Stop by there before returning," Ms. Martin told her. "Wear your evening uniforms" She turned to me.

"Jacqui, how much floss do you need to embroider your names on a uniform or apron?"

"That would depend on how big and what style you'd want, mum."

"Yes, of course." Ms. Martin described what she had in mind and told me to estimate the cost, because, as she went on, "I want all of your uniforms, aprons and pinafores to have your names on them, ‘Maid Jacqui' and 'First Girl Melissa'." She then gave Melissa enough cash to buy the needed supplies.

When we arrived at the shop, Suzanne had two of the assistants to assist us. Our new uniforms all had form fitting bodices and loose skirts that ended between four and six inches above our knees; giving both of us plenty of opportunity to show our legs. Our evening uniforms were an exception, with their shorter, very tight skirts.

Like Melissa's uniforms, that we'd been sharing, the new day uniforms were a light gray, cotton-polyester blend. They had short, pouffed sleeves trimmed with white ruffled cuffs, and closed, pointed white collars. They were practical, having enough fullness and ease in the shoulders to perform all of our chores without restricting our movements. The uniform skirts were filled with several petticoats and the very feminine, white ruffled pinafores covered nearly all of the skirt and bodice. For afternoons, we were to wear similarly cut dresses in black that had smooth three-quarter sleeves with white cuffs on them and the bib front aprons were plain with a square cut. Both these uniforms were functional and feminine at the same time. I knew I would enjoy wearing them.

The evening uniforms, however, were quite different. Of black taffeta, these were long sleeved cheongsams trimmed with white lace where the normal piping would be. White satin aprons, also lace trimmed, had rounded skirts and bib fronts which ended below our breasts rather than covering them, as those for the other two uniforms did.

We were given five, day dresses and seven of the pinafores, because they were more likely to get soiled. In addition, we were supplied with two of the black uniforms and three aprons for them. Mistakenly, we thought that was all, but another rack was wheeled in bearing still more.

"These are for when your mistress entertains special guests, girls," Suzanne beamed. We thought she was smiling because of the size of the order that Ms. Martin had commissioned, but when we saw what was on the rack, we realized her amusement was at our expense. In fact, we were shocked by the brevity of all these dresses. The longest skirt might have been finger-tip length and the shortest wouldn't cover the bottom curves of our rear cheeks. From the yellow and pink gingham day dresses, to the black taffeta, French maid styled uniforms for evening, they all had very full petticoats of appropriate length. On top, we'd be exposing progressively more of our breasts as the day advanced.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I got three uniforms Melissa didn’t. The first was a brown canvas outfit, obviously intended for me to wear outside. It was matched with lace-up over-the-ankle boots. These brown sueded leather boots had highly arched, 'wedgie' styled soles, which should not sink into soft ground or the lawn like my heels did.

The second was my new chauffeuse uniform. After some conversation with Ms. Martin, she decided that it should be relatively conservative, because I might need it when I drove her around for business. It consisted of a man tailored white cotton shirt with a little black lace tie, a fairly tight, straight skirt that ended more than two inches above my knees and had an ample slit in the back to allow me to move freely and the most gorgeous black leather jacket that reached down to the bottom of my butt. The cut of the skirt and jacket complemented each other perfectly and I presented a very impressive, slim figure in this uniform. I also got a professional looking, visored cap and several sets of driving gloves of different lengths. All of a sudden, I was looking forward to being Ms. Martin's driver, but it was the last uniform that really blew my mind.

When I first put it on, I was sure Suzanne had failed to give me the top because its tight, French maid style bodice left my breasts fully exposed. I could not imagine when I would be required to don this piece of fetish wear, but I shuddered to think that I'd be required to wear it to serve Ms. Martin's guests.

Then something strange happened. As I was looking at myself in the mirror, I became very dispirited about the size of my breasts. They just did not do justice to this uniform. In that moment, as I turned to look at my profile in the mirror, with all the girls, including Melissa, giggling, I wished that I had bigger breasts. My breasts just looked so insufficient. Thankfully, Melissa interrupted my depressing reverie, telling me it was time for us to go. I gratefully took the horrid uniform off and changed into something much more demure.

The shoe store yielded a bonanza of shoes, equal to the vast number of uniforms we had just acquired. We got white lace up oxfords with three and a half inch heels for day, plain black pumps for afternoons with slightly higher heels and a pair of black patent pumps with five-inch heels to wear in the evening. Ms. Martin thought that still higher ones, with ankle straps, would look good and there was one more pairs of shoes for me that were impossibly higher still. To go with my new chauffeuse uniform, she ordered zip-up knee boots in the softest black kid leather I had ever felt. Unfortunately, the heels on these boots though not terribly thin, were over five inches high as well. Even at five foot six inches, I would still be one hell of an imposing girl wearing these with my new uniform.

We spent the rest of the day finishing up the house to get it ready for the party. While Melissa washed the few remaining windows from the outside, I did all of the routine chores and washed the inside of the windows we'd not yet done. Working alone in the house, I began to think about my new job.

Whatever anyone else might say about doing housework, I was starting to get into my chores. Not that the work itself was fun, but I was kept busy all day and there were always different chores to keep it from being totally monotonous. The repetitive nature of the work gave it a kind of meditative quality that I found quite calming and even dusting properly required a certain concentration that kept me from dwelling on unhappy thoughts. In fact, I found that concentrating when the tasks were not mentally demanding to be one of the hardest things to do. I frequently let myself daydream while Ms. Martin was eating and, sometimes, it would take her two tries to get my attention. She did not like this in the least, and threatened to tighten my corset if I could not learn to serve her better.

"I swear Jacqui," she went on one time after shouting at me when I had allowed my mind to wander, "it never occurred to me that being a maid would be too demanding for you, but you can’t even pay attention to my needs for five minutes while I eat. Thank God, Melissa is overseeing the rest of your work or who knows how that would turn out."

I thought about that the next day as I carefully dusted an intricately carved antique alarm clock. Really, how do you pay attention when you don't have anything to do, but stand in the background? It was hard! But once I started to focus my mind on my immediate task only, I found that there was very little else I could really think about. I certainly had no room in my mind for worries, which was just what I needed since my previous life had been consumed by them, but a maid just didn't have much to worry about. After some time, I also stopped thinking about the business. It just wasn’t part of my life any more. I had to admit, Melissa had been right about stress; I really wasn't feeling any.

I was also getting a lot of exercise. Physically, I was feeling much better than I had in quite a long time, and losing weight at the same time. This had to be a result of not drinking over a thousand calories a day in alcohol and the change in eating habits mandated by Melissa overseeing my diet. She had learned a great deal about diet when she was losing her own weight and fed us nothing but organic foods, mostly fruits and vegetables, with virtually no meat at all. This was a cry from the huge portions of protein and fatty foods I was used to, but after a couple of weeks, I had gotten used to it, thinking I would be able to go back to eating whatever I wanted once my three month tour of duty was over.

I didn’t think I could ever generate the enthusiasm for being a maid that Melissa evinced, but I had begun to take real pride in how great the house looked and could easily see the next couple of months passing by in a comfortable way. By then, I would be in great shape, both mentally and physically, and ready to get back to the real world. For now, however, being a carefree maid would be just fine.

I didn’t know why I didn’t find the whole situation humiliating, but I didn’t, at least when we were home alone. Going out, or meeting new people who came to the house was still difficult, although I became more relaxed in my role with each new experience.

But most of all, I just loved being Jacqui, especially when I was in my evening uniform with its short skirt, fluffy petticoats and high heels. I adored the sight of my breasts peeking out of my uniform top, thrilled to the sound of my heels on the hardwood floors and nearly swooned at the sight of myself in a mirror. Yes, this experience would be downright therapeutic.

And, as I drew my mind back from my thoughts to the task at hand, I realized that I was having a hard time getting all of the dust out of the inside portions of the carving on that clock. I really did need to concentrate.

By the time Saturday, the day of the party, had rolled around, the First Girl and I had virtually finished preparing. We had to do this because we had been scheduled for another full session at the beauty salon, which would occupy much of our morning. We had our hair trimmed and colored to hide our roots. Our brows were waxed again, makeup done with false lashes and we were given a set of inch-long, bright red, false fingernails. These were good silk wraps and Ms. Martin informed us that we would wear at least that length from now on, since the major work of cleaning the house had been finished.

"I expect my guests to start arriving around seven this evening, Melissa. That gives you almost six hours to bathe, put on your new evening uniforms and set the food out." Recently, even though I'd be standing there and listening too, Ms. Martin would tell the First Girl what was expected of me and not say anything to me directly. I knew this was appropriate, but I couldn’t help but feel resentful anyway. I mean, how could she just ignore the person she’d been closest to for the last ten years of her life? I wasn’t sure I liked the way our new relationship was developing. In fact, it worried me that she could shut me out so completely, but since I couldn’t do anything about it, I kept my peace. Besides, I reassured myself, Carla was doing all this because she loved me. I didn't quite understand the whole thing, but I had to admit that her approach had done good things for me so far. I would just have to trust her for the next couple of months.

"As you are better with the food and keeping things moving, I'd like you to handle the kitchen tonight. Jacqui is to greet the guests at the door and serve their drinks and other needs. I do want things to be just right and I'm holding you responsible to assure that they are, Melissa."

"Yes, mum."

"Now run up and get started."

Together, we took a bath, being extra careful not to mess up our hair or makeup. Washed, dried and powdered, we both discovered the difficulties that the unfamiliar fingernails were going to cause as we hooked the busks of each other's corsets. My clumsy fingers brought back memories of the horrible experience I'd had the last time my nails had been long. I really didn’t want to go there, so I quickly shoved those from my mind, concentrating fully on the tasks at hand. Until we became accustomed to them, our nails would assure that the simplest tasks required new ways of holding or doing anything.

"See if you can get me to twenty-two inches, please?" I asked Melissa. I'd been lacing just short of that for a week and felt I could manage with it still tighter until morning. Serving cocktails and canapés was a lot less strenuous than washing the second story windows. Besides, even if I didn't have larger breasts, I could still have a killer figure by having a small waist. I was starting to really enjoy how it looked.

"You're crazy, you know that?" she kidded. "How you stand it is beyond me." Melissa tied the laces after measuring my waist a quarter of an inch less then I asked for. The truth was, with all the weight I had been losing it wasn't as big a deal for me as it was for Melissa.

After dressing each other, Melissa finally removed the studs that had first been placed in my ears and replaced them with a graduated set of cubic zirconium ones. I then changed the earrings Melissa usually wore for her, which confirmed just how much dexterity the nails had caused me to lose.

Then, just when I thought we were all set, Melissa undid the frogs on the front of my right leg so that I exposed my thigh to just above the top of the black stocking when I walked.

"Perfect," Melissa pronounced. "Let's get started."

"Melissa!" I protested, as I posed in front of the mirror, absolutely taken by the way I looked. Had I not been wearing my chastity belt, I would have been tenting my dress.

"What?" she asked innocently, with a Cheshire cat grin. I looked at her with questioning eyes, but when she didn't respond, I just shook my head. Looking back into the mirror as I turned back and forth to throw open the short skirt of the cheongsam, I wondered if this was her idea or Ms. Martin's and if it was her idea, had Ms. Martin been told been I was to wear my uniform that way.

End of Part III