Our uniforms were quite plain, with white pointed collars and cuffs on the short sleeves. The moderately full, above the knee skirts were pouffed out some by the gathered cotton petticoats we wore.

"Are you two really maids?"

"Yes, we are really maids," I found the courage to reply, even though I was still trying to understand what that meant.

"Melissa," I screeched. "He tried..."

_______________________________________________________________

"Time to get up, sleepy head." Melissa shook my arm.

"Just leave me alone." I tried to shake her hand off.

"No can do, Jacqui, we've orders. I'm going to obey mine, and it's my job to assure you obey yours as well. So up an' at 'em, girl." She pulled me upright on the roll-away cot I'd set up for the night in the computer room. I pulled at my chastity belt, trying to keep it from chafing.

"Listen, first day in a chastity belt is the worst. First week, first month, it really only gets a little better, but you adjust. It’s entirely in your attitude. I'm wearing one and so are you. That’s all there is to it." I tugged at it again, trying to pull a little bit of slack in the steel, which, of course, wasn't happening.

"Go shower and shampoo twice. Don't do any more than towel dry it then come to my room when you're done." I did exactly as I was instructed. My chastity belt was most definitely going to take a lot of getting used to, starting with using the toilet. Peeing wasn't any big deal, but...

Carla was talking with her sister and looking through the things Melissa had hung in the closet. "If I'd known, I could have brought a few more uniforms, Sis. I do have a few that match."

"Mum, Melissa, not 'Sis'. I'm going to insist on this and I do expect that you'll remember your status here. You and Jacqui are employees, my maids, and not my relatives."

"Yes, mum."

"Good morning, mum." I curtseyed. For some reason, I seemed to hold no resentment about the way things had gone the previous evening.

"Oh, and good morning to you also, Jacqui. We were just discussing what the two of you will be wearing this morning. I'd have preferred matching uniforms, but that doesn't appear possible today."

"Mum, I did bring two that are identically cut and trimmed. One is black and the other one, gray."

"Let me see." Melissa brought out the two hangers. "Yes, those will do. You wear the black one.

"What do you usually wear with them, other than the aprons."

"Bra, panties, pantyhose, black with that and white with the gray, one or two plain petticoats, more with the black. The gray one is a day uniform for doing chores, so I wear white shoes with only a two-inch, chunky heel. That black one is a bit more formal, for afternoons when there might be casual guests and I'll be serving refreshments or serving a lunch. I wear plain black pumps with a four-inch heel. Oh, and a head piece too, mum."

"Two petticoats each, stockings not pantyhose and no other panties, ever, except on my instruction. You both are wearing all the panties you need or will be permitted." Carla turned to me.

"You will always wear stockings, Jacqui. You have white stockings and a garter belt. Wear those with those cute, white lace up shoes you have."

"Both uniforms and the aprons need pressing. Do assure I do not see wrinkles when you come down for inspection.

"Melissa, the plainest studs you brought, for your ears; no other jewelry for today. No, you may both wear a plain, thin watch. I'm going to be strict about timeliness.

"Get started."

We both curtseyed and waited until Carla had left the room before doing as we'd told. It took longer to iron our uniforms, petticoats and pinafores - they were more than just aprons, than it did to put everything on and apply the light makeup, that Carla had decreed appropriate for days.

Our uniforms were quite plain, with white pointed collars and cuffs on the short sleeves. The moderately full, above the knee skirts were pouffed out some by the gathered cotton petticoats we wore. Melissa had only pantyhose. I loaned her a garter belt and gave her a plain, pair of sheer black stockings to wear. Seeing the shoes I brought to the room, she produced a similar pair in black.

Ms.Carla approved of both of us.

"Melissa, as first girl, I'm placing you in charge and holding you responsible.

"Here is my charge card and some cash, should you need it. Get Jacqui's ears done and don’t forget that new hole in your left lobe then get your hair done.

"I think I'd like to see both of you with a lot less eyebrows." Carla used me to demonstrate what she desired. "They are to start inside the eye and end at the outer corner. Have them waxed and only leave a thin line, as high as possible."

"That's not much at all, mum."

"Is that a complaint or the beginning of back talk, Melissa? Say another word about it and I'll tell you to have yours removed completely."

"Yes, mum."

It felt really strange walking into the mall. Jacqui had been in public many times before and in much shorter skirts, higher heels, more makeup and a lot more jewelry - in short, outfits that drew a lot of attention to me. I must say though, that walking next to Melissa in a full maid's uniform seemed to instantly draw every pair of eyes to us like magnets and I felt very vulnerable and exposed. I told Melissa how I felt.

"I used to feel the exact same way, especially when I was fat," she giggled. "There was almost twice as much of me then. The worst was when I had to go to a supermarket and do all the shopping in my full French regalia."

"What do you mean by, 'had to go'?"

"I worked my way through college hiring myself out as a maid. I'd do cleaning, laundry; you name it. I'd serve lunches and formal dinners and I'd do parties. I bought a chastity belt after one of those. I felt like I was going to be raped by every guy there, every one of them.

"Anyway, during one formal diner, a guest, he was older than my grandfather, asked me if I'd spend a three day weekend at his place being his maid and doing everything. He promised no sex and no kinky stuff. Just that I'd have to be uniformed the entire time, I'd be photographed and videotaped constantly. The pay was a grand a day and an additional thousand if I didn't call it quits before the end.

"Wouldn't you, in my position, do anything, including going to a supermarket in net hose and six-inch heels?"

"Yes, I guess I would," I giggled. "Carla…"

Melissa cut me off. "That's Ms. Martin to you, Jacqui. You better get used to it quick."

I sighed. "I'm afraid that's going to be difficult, Melissa, I can't help, but think of her as Carla."

"Well, you can think whatever you want, but neither Ms. Martin nor I will permit you to call her by her first name. If I can figure out how to do it, so can you. Now what were you saying?"

"Huh? Oh. I was saying that Ms. Martin," I put the emphasis on the Ms., "said that as her maid, I'm only going to get minimum wage, but it is steady employment." I had to laugh.

"That's a girl, laugh about it."

Having three silver studs shot through each ear was not the big deal I had always thought it was going to be. In fact, I loved it. Something about having it done made me feel incredibly feminine. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I began to wish for some nicer earrings, and, as I stood there, I had a little fantasy. I was the girlfriend of some very rich man and he was presenting me with beautiful earrings. I was so thrilled I stretched up to kiss him for his generosity, bending one knee behind me as I did. Yum.

Everything about this trip was different. Even though John had had my hair trimmed in beauty salons for years, walking in as Jacqui, a maid, was much different.

When Melissa explained just what we wanted done, rather, what Ms. Martin wanted done to us, we were placed in adjacent stations to be worked on by the same beautician. It was comforting and reassuring to have Melissa there next to me, and making sure everything that was done to me, was done to her exactly the same way.

Melissa told Tracy, our operator, each step of all the procedures was to be performed on me first, starting with the smelly hair coloring, blue black. While that gook did its thing on our heads, Tracy removed most of our eyebrows with wax; having all those hairs yanked out hurt!

"Just let me get the strays, Jacqui, then I'll put a nice soothing cream there." She daubed the tears that were in the corners of my eyes with tissues.

I was both thrilled and freaked out having my hair cut into a very feminine bubble cut by Tracy. Though Melissa had given me bangs the day before, Tracy combed all the hair in a line, ear to ear across the top, forward, and cut it into a crescent, making my bangs even fuller.

Once our hair was finally done, it was in an almost spherical shape that curved in at the bottom. The ends of our hair formed one continuous curve that crested in the middle of our foreheads, swept down around our eyes and over the middle of our ears. In back, she stacked it and cut it above the top of our necks, shaving off everything below that.

Melissa asked if Tracy thought that she could give us a 'China Doll' make-up and to attempt to make us look as closely alike as she possibly could.

"Just not too bold, Tracy. Our employer wants it on the subtle side."

"Are you two really maids?"

"Yes, we are really maids," I found the courage to reply, even though I was still trying to understand what that meant. I just had to hear myself say it aloud, hoping perhaps that I would begin to believe what now appeared to be an inescapable truth.

Once we were done and Tracy had spent an inordinate amount of time replacing the white fan headpieces just so, Melissa led the way to our next set of tasks. Each of us was to buy a dozen pairs of heavy, opaque white stockings and seamed black sheers. We were to find boxy, white PVC purses, like the handbags that little girls carry around at Easter, and matching white shoes. These were to be smooth calf, with rounded toes and about three-inch heels. They were to have a wide strap across the vamp, if we could find them, or ankle straps if we couldn't.

We cleaned out the entire stock of both styles of stockings in one hosiery store, ending up with only eleven pairs of the black and seventeen of the white. We went to another and, finally, a third before we could meet our goal. Our new purses were easy to find in the children's department of a discount store and cost only two dollars each. I just knew I would feel like an idiot carrying such a bag if the occasion ever arose. I mean, what kind of grownup would carry a bag like that?

We visited every shoe store and shoe department in the entire mall before selecting the shoes that came closest to matching the ones we were told to buy. The shoes we bought had one-inch platforms and five-inch heels that flared at their tips. There were two straps with large silver colored buckles instead of the one specified.

"These shoes are really ugly, Melissa. I'd never have bought them."

"I agree. They are ugly. I think Ms. Martin intends them to be."

"Why? I would think that she would want us to be as pretty as possible?"

"For a party or guests, sure. A woman I worked for a few times explained her thinking this way: 'I know you are an intelligent girl, Melissa, however, it is my desire that you appear and act like a stupid immigrant. There are many maids who are incapable of being anything more than a maid and that is how I wish you to appear,' she told me."

"All she let me do for her was a very heavy cleaning of her hot attic. I was a total mess after two weekends of that."

"She kept the damn uniform and didn’t clean it. By the last day, I smelled like a horse and she had me go to the store that way. Talk about a weirdo."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Wouldn’t you, for forty dollars an hour? Besides, it was good exercise and I started to drop some serious weight. It was after that that I got very serious about not being a fat cow any longer."

"You ever do any kinky stuff as a maid?"

"Just once. Crazy as it might seem, I really enjoy being a straight, plain vanilla maid, doing all the chores, cooking and serving meals, and taking care of guests. Beats the shit out of the work I did for my recent employer."

"Why?"

Melissa stopped to stare at me a moment before she answered. "It's a bit strange talking like this since it was your company." She tilted her head and studied me for a few seconds then giggled lightly to herself. "But you’re a maid named Jacqui now, aren’t you? You’re not Mr. Ingram, the boss."

I paled and could feel my mouth draw back involuntarily in a gesture of dismay. "Talking to you about my experiences at Carla’s company," she really emphasized the Carla, "shouldn’t bother me at all." And she giggled again.

"It was a do nothing, go nowhere job. I knew that when I took it. What I hated was the stress."

"Stress, as a receptionist! What stress?" I couldn't believe she thought a receptionist's job was stressful.

"Oh! There wasn’t any real stress in the work and the guys were great, no problem with any of them. It was the women and the competition they created. No matter what I wore, how I did my hair, make-up, nails, whatever. Always, no matter what, one or more would make some catty, snotty comment. 'New shoes Melissa, were they on sale at Payless?' There is none of that crap as a maid.”

"Anyone who criticizes my uniform, my shoes, my make-up, anything, is criticizing my employer. Real maids, like you and me," my stomach did a little flip when she said that, "do not get to make choices about how they appear or dress - they are told, and their employer supplies the uniforms. If someone takes exception to my appearance, they can tell the person I work for about it, not me. If they do tell me, I don't care, I didn't choose it."

"You said you like the work. How can you enjoy ironing or scrubbing the floor and cleaning toilets?"

"How is it that people who have more money than they know what to do with enjoy going to a gym and working out on a stupid machine and paying for the privilege of exercising? In my book, that is totally stupid and dumb, working up a sweat and accomplishing nothing while paying for it!"

"Those rich jerks, and some not so rich, all look down their noses at someone who is just a maid or a receptionist, Jacqui. I earned a four-year college degree. I paid for every cent of it. I bought my food, my clothes and my hot, new SUV, and I paid cash. I've never established credit and don't use plastic. I did it by working, not because my Daddy handed it to me. I worked as a maid earning hundreds a day not five bucks an hour at the library or Micky D's."

"They can look at me and sneer, if that excites them. Damn few can say they did, on their own, what I've done. Far fewer than that, can say they love doing what they do and feel proud at the end of the day. They drag themselves home, totally exhausted and stressed to the breaking point. They pour a glass of whiskey and hope that it kicks in before their worrisome thoughts about the next day overwhelm them."

I had obviously hit a hot button and Melissa was on a roll; spilling out her entire view of life in an apparent response to the many slights she had experienced in the past.

"Melissa the maid, finishes her day tired sometimes. I'm satisfied that the rooms are properly cleaned and the other chores are done. I don't have worry one. My clothes for the morning are already picked out along with everything else. I have something to eat and relax before getting a solid night of sleep without needing any depressants to make my mind turn off all the perceived problems others think they should bear."

"Melissa...?"

"I'm not done yet."

I butted in anyway, "What about challenge, intellectual stimulation, and all of the other things the stressed out will tell you they need to make them satisfied?"

"You want challenge as a maid? I challenge you to do all your assigned chores in the time allowed, keep your hair and make-up neat, your entire uniform spotless and not chip your nails. You're allowed to soil your apron or pinafore, just don't go using it as a towel.”

"No way in hell can I honestly brag that I can do it every day or even most days, I can't, but that's the challenge I have every time I go on duty. Most days I lose, but I sure as shit tried, and just because I get one spot on my uniform, does not mean that I’m willing to get two.

"Now, what was it you wanted to ask me, Jacqui?"

"You answered it. You've obviously have thought this maid thing through and are passionate about it.”

“Omigod! Look at the time! We need to get home and get ready for dinner!

***

“Set the dining room table for one Jacqui. The servants usually eat in the kitchen, though in our case it'll be the maids' quarters."

We served throughout dinner, but Carla essentially ignored both of us until we were cleaning up. I didn’t see her come into the kitchen, but when I saw Melissa curtsey, I turned and did the same. Carla's green eyes examined both of us for a moment before she spoke.

"Melissa, take Jacqui back to your apartment to help you move out and make arrangements to terminate your lease. I believe that you can serve my needs better if you are free from that encumbrance. Bring back the rest of your uniforms and whatever else you want.

"See that you return in time to serve dinner tomorrow evening. You may both dress as you wish, unless you want to go in uniform. Consider it your day off this week."

"Finish here then you are dismissed for the evening."

"Yes, mum."

"What does all that mean, exactly?" I asked when I turned back to the few dishes left in the sink.

"Pretty much that I've been fired from my other job, I guess. Looks to me like I will have what I always really wanted, a full time, real maid's position."

"Doesn't it bother you that your sister talks to you like that?"

"Nope. Bothers me about as much as you should be bothered that John was once her husband."

"That was a low blow."

"Just the truth. Listen, I gave you my personal recipe for a happy life, earlier. I think you had better get it settled in your little maid’s brain between those cute little pierced ears of yours, girl. Either of us can walk out whenever we choose to, but you know what the consequences are for you if you do.

"Carla is my sister, Ms. Martin is my employer. Best get that straight as it pertains to you too."

I went to lay on my cot that night with my head full of concerns. The change from being John, the CEO, to being Jacqui, the maid, had happened so quickly that I didn’t quite know what was going on. Could I actually follow Melissa’s happy maid philosophy? I had lived as John for more than thirty years and for the last eight I had run a company. I didn’t understand how concentrating on dusting the knick knacks without dirtying my uniform was going to fill my thoughts, which typically contained five or six things at a time. Carla was treating me like an employee and I didn’t like it. Melissa was bossing me around and I didn’t like that either, although she did seem sincere about doing a good job and was obviously into teaching me now to be a proper maid.

What if Melissa was right? As I thought about it, while idly scratching around my chastity belt, I began to convince myself that the only way I could survive and, perhaps enjoy the next three months, was to adopt Melissa’s point of view. She had warned me to stop thinking like I was John, indeed to stop thinking that I was John and just become Jacqui, the maid. I was thrilled that Jacqui was going to get to live as herself twenty-four/seven for the first time in her life, but apprehensive that she had to be a maid to do it. What had I allowed myself to be talked into?

I finally fell asleep fretting over the damn chastity belt that I could only remove by cutting it off. ‘Oh hell, I'm not going to worry.’

"Up. Time to get pretty, Jacqui." Again, Melissa had wakened me.

"What should I wear?"

"It's our day off and that means we may wear anything we want. I've seen your wardrobe. You have a lot of neat things. You’re not going to be getting many other chances to wear them any time soon. Of course, if you’d prefer to wear a uniform, you’ll have to be my maid today. I'm certainly not going to wear one of the suits I bought when I was given that previous job. Fuck them! What crap! I'll wear jeans and a top cause I'm moving stuff and don't want to dirty anything good.”

"And remember, I expect you to duplicate the look that Tracy created with make-up. Get your butt moving."

I did all the necessary tasks in the bathroom and shower then alternated the hair dryer between my hair and steel panties until both were dry. I was really coming to hate being locked in that thing!

Before I did my makeup, I went to knock on Melissa's door. I was fairly sure of what I was doing.

"What's up?" She asked after scanning me, naked, but for my steel panties.

"I'd like you to loan me a uniform, please? I acknowledge my status. I'm a maid. Please select my uniform for today, Melissa?" She glared for a brief moment before softening her look to an amused smile.

"I'm glad I brought it. We're lucky we're just about the same size. I'll get a uniform for you." Melissa closed the door, leaving me in the hall.

When she opened it again, only a hanger with a black uniform came out. Once I took the hanger, the door closed, but opened quickly again. This time Melissa stood there with a pair of front laced, knee boots in her hand.

"I’m afraid the boots will be too tight. You’ll have to wear them anyway!" Melissa said before closing the door again. "I'll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes."

What I had in my hand was a tailored, black leather uniform that I couldn't guess the intent of until I put it on. It was a chauffeuse uniform. I almost laughed aloud. Melissa was amazing.

I had the knee boots laced up and was stepping into the skirt when Melissa entered my room wearing a light, floral print that was mostly lilac and white sandals, not her jeans. "Be sure the seams on your net stockings are straight at all times, Jacqui. You must check often and straighten them, even if in public. Understood?"

"Yes, mum," I curtsied in reply.

Melissa handed me a visored cap and a pair of gauntlet-like, black leather gloves then told me to put them on.

Car. . ., uh, Ms.Martin was just delighted with my appearance when we presented ourselves to her with curtseys before leaving.

"Very nice, Jacqui. I think your duties have just expanded," she said, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Oh, Melissa this is just priceless." Then she turned to me.

"Jacqui, you may now consider yourself to be my chauffeuse in addition to being one of my maids."

"Yes, mum," I curtseyed again. The evening before, Melissa had again worked with me on my curtseys. Judging by her smile, Ms. Martin was happy with the improvement.

I did not need to be told to tend the door for the First Girl nor to be quiet as we drove in John’s big Mercedes. Except to provide directions, Melissa remained silent throughout the two-hour drive. Because Jacqui did not have a driver's license, I drove very carefully. I did not need to meet a cop on a professional basis dressed like I was. The boots that I was wearing were not only tight, but they had five-inch heels as well. They forced me to pay close attention to my movements. I'd never driven while wearing such high heels before.

"Come with me, Jacqui," Melissa ordered once I'd parked in the lot near her apartment. I tended her door and watched her wave to two people with a smile.

"Hi, Mary, Hi Bill,"

"Hi, Melissa," a man's voice called from behind. I had no desire to meet her friends, but it looked like I didn't have any choice, except to follow as Melissa strode towards them. In a couple of seconds, we were face to face.

"Who's your friend, Melissa?" the girl elbowed her companion in the ribs when he asked that. I'd seen him checking me out.

"My sister's chauffeuse.

"Curtsey, Jacqui." I thought that in my position it was best to remain silent and obey, so I did, flushing slightly at the embarrassment of being told what to do and acting so submissively. Melissa proceeded to tell them that she was transferring to the headquarters and that she was staying at Ms. Martin's who had just bought a big house, until she found a place of her own. It was a good story.

"Listen, there's some stuff in my 'frige'. Why not come over and take it while Jacqui and I pack my clothes?"

"Can't, I've an appointment with my doctor." Mary was obviously very pregnant.

Bill politely offered to go with her, but she turned him down. "I'll be fine. I'll see you when I get back about noon."

Bill was still checking me out and was obviously pleased that Mary had let him off the hook, so he could spend some time with me. Of course, he ended coming with us and walked next to me, very closely. I’d never sensed a man in heat before, but that was what I clearly felt coming from Bill just then. This guy wanted to get in my panties and I was thankful for the first time since Melissa had locked them on that they were stainless steel.

"You from around here ... Jacqui, right?" he asked.

"No, North Jersey," I did not want to engage in conversation - not even small talk.

"I live in Somerville." Just great, that was only fifteen miles from Ms. Martin's new house. "I'm just visiting my sister while her husband's away on business," he explained. I'd assumed they were husband and wife.

"I'm just out of college and I start my new job in two weeks.

"I'm looking forward to working with you, Melissa," he added.

She, like I, questioned what he'd just said. "Working with me?"

"Yeah. You said you were transferring to Johncarla headquarters didn't you? I'm interviewing there next Monday, but their Human Resources said that with my education it's pretty assured that they'll hire me in their engineering department, at least until I'm trained for something better. I hear it's a great company."

"It is, but I think I misstated things. Actually, I've only been asked to consider a transfer. That's part of why I'll be there with my sister." Melissa unlocked the door to admit us and we trooped in.

"Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator, Bill. There are bags under the sink." She turned to me.

"My bedroom is this way, Jacqui. Come with me." I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd been fearful that I'd be ordered to help him. She closed the door as soon as we entered.

"What's with you?" she demanded, "You're shaking and look like you've seen a ghost?"

"It's just ... just that no guy ever broadcast his desire for to me like he was."

Melissa nodded. "Yeah, pretty strong. It's not going to stop, so you had better come to accept that for every guy who can still get it up, you, as a maid, are fair game. If you don't believe me now, wait til you serve your first party in a really sexy uniform. You are going to have to learn to deal with it sooner or later, but you’ll be much better off if it's sooner."

"I'll take the later, if you don't mind."

"Jacqui, you are such a twit. You just don’t get it, do you? I think sooner would definitely be better, so I’m not giving you a choice. Get out there, help Bill pack the food and then carry the stuff to Mary's apartment. Now!" Melissa stopped to stare at me, before she added, "That is an order. Move!"

I did not want to do it! I wanted no part of being so close to Bill, especially because he’d already shown too much interest in me. I was starting to get anxious about how Bill might behave and felt humiliated that I was merely a sex object to him. Very reluctantly, I turned to go, but Melissa wasn’t done with me yet.

"Don't forget to curtsey like I've taught you, and to address him as 'sir'. Now get going." I blushed, curtseyed to her and reluctantly went to do as ordered.

"Melissa sent me to help you, sir." I straightened from my curtsey and kept my eyes lowered. Bill wasted no time making room next to him before the open refrigerator. He tried to keep his hip pressed against mine for the a few minutes it took to finish emptying it. Thankfully, there just wasn't that much to do.

"I'll carry this, sir." I lifted one partly full bag in front of me to serve as a shield in case he got ideas. That made me feel like I'd be a little safer, at least until I'd put everything away in Mary’s apartment, which he told me was on the other side of the complex.

Sure enough, that's just when he chose to make his move. I'd closed the refrigerator after putting everything away and turned to tell Bill that I was going back to help Melissa. As I turned, I could see he was stepping towards me. I knew what was happening, but before I could move to block him, he wrapped his powerful arms around me, pulled me tightly to his chest and enveloped my lips with his mouth. I struggled to break free, but he only hugged harder. His tongue probed for an entrance into my mouth. At first, I kept my teeth and lips tightly shut then deciding I had to say something to make him stop, I opened my mouth to speak. His tongue immediately entered the opening I had created for it. This was the first time a man had penetrated me.

"I just love girls in leather, like you," he breathed in my face once he broke the kiss. Still holding me securely with one arm, his free hand began to explore my body. "You're really hot, babe."

"Just let go of me you pig," I spluttered out once I could say something. Then, desperate to avoid his intentions, I drove my right heel into his foot. He screamed in pain and I ran from the apartment, not that anyone can actually run in five-inch heels. I guess it was just a quick mince and I'm sure it looked just ridiculous.

Melissa was unsympathetic when I returned with tears streaming down my cheeks and told her what had happened

"You've already made your point and ruined your makeup, so stop the tears. No one is going to rape us locked up as we are. Get your act together and fix your face. We still have work to do."

"Melissa," I screeched. "He tried..."

I was still feeling sorry for myself and resentful at Melissa’s attitude. I just stood there.

"Do as you were told, now, Jacqui! Don’t be such a damn baby! You think you’re the only girl who ever had a guy force a kiss on her. Grow the Hell up!"

We drove in silence until we neared the house then Melissa spoke up, "All girls have to put up with men, Jacqui. You best accept that as fact. You're a damn good looking chick and men are going want you."

"But I don't want them!" I countered.

"Then figure out how you are going to handle them. What you want or don't want isn't going to change how they feel." I shut up. Melissa was obviously not going to offer me any consolation.

She went straight to Carla while I unloaded her things and started to put them away.

"Jacqui, Melissa explained what happened." I turned from the closet to face my wife. Ms. Martin was calm and I thought I could see a bit of a cruel smile on her lips, as if she was enjoying my distress. "Stay quiet and listen to me."

"You agreed to this," she began, "wanted it even. I've given you just what you thought you wanted and more. Half of the population are men. They are a fact of life that you are not going to change. I do not expect you to like them, but I do expect you to deal with them and to do so without ever embarrassing me. End of discussion."

As she turned and left Melissa's room, I started to cry. Just what had I gotten myself into? I was locked into a damn chastity belt, looked down on by the world and dismissed by everyone except the men who wanted to fuck me. Now I was supposed to deal with it. I wanted out!

But there was no way out. Instead, I spent a grueling week, as Melissa and I cleaned up the house quickly each morning and then packed for the move in the afternoons.

"I've hired a mover to do the rest." Ca . . . Ms. Martin informed us over breakfast on Saturday. "The furniture will go with this house when I sell it."

"Both of you pack up enough uniforms to last you a few days along with your makeup and other personal things. Melissa, I expect you to attend to things here in this house then close up and drive to my new home once the movers finish.

"Jacqui, after you've packed your things, change to the leather uniform. I want to leave by nine." I curtseyed and murmured acknowledgment. It was a tremendous relief that I would not be in the house alone with the moving men.

She had me drive to the Realtors office. When I had helped her out of the car, she gave me new instructions. "Normally, a chauffeur, or chauffeuse in your case, stays with the car, polishing it or whatever." She opened her purse and extended two twenties. "You are not an exception."

"Take the car to a car wash then find a place to buy what you'll need to polish it. Be back by noon, Jacqui." I was left speechless while Ms. Martin, no, Carla, walked to the Realtor's office, opened the door and walked in. I did what I was told. Even though it was my Mercedes, it was the first time I had lifted a finger to actually clean it. Being Carla's chauffeuse was not going to be fun.

***

"You have the top bunk," Melissa announced when she came down from the top floor of the maids' quarters after she arrived late in the afternoon. "Thanks for making the bottom one for me."

"But I got here first," I protested.

"And I'm First Girl. It's my choice and that is the way it is!" she started to change out of the gray uniform she'd worn. I was already in a black taffeta French maid's uniform and was fixing my makeup. I just stared at her, but she ignored me. I shook my head and peered back into the mirror.

"Is that what we're suppose to wear tonight?"

"Yes. Ms. Martin told me to tell you."

"What's here for her dinner?" Melissa asked.

"Nothing yet; we didn't know what time you'd arrive. Ms. Martin said she'd inform us about her own meal. I put the other food we brought from your apartment upstairs in the cabinets.

"Good, at least we won’t starve for a few days."

"I really like the turret. Makes me feel like a princess living in a castle," Melissa said, as she sat before the other vanity. "How about you?"

For the next fifteen minutes, Melissa chatted with me like we had been best friends forever. She eventually suggested a routine we might establish to accomplish our chores. It made me feel better than I had since the incident in Mary's apartment. For the first time since this whole adventure had begun, I felt like I had a friend.

We arrived downstairs to discover that Carla had ordered in Chinese food. She even ordered enough for us. Still, we had to serve her as she ate and then reheat what was left and eat it ourselves in the kitchen. At least it was warm.

The movers arrived the following morning and this time I was not spared the job of overseeing them. Just to make me as nervous as possible, Melissa had me dress in one of her black afternoon uniforms with a mid-thigh length hem. It was much shorter skirt than the others we had worn. After we served breakfast and I cleaned up, Ms. Martin informed me of my fate that day.

"I'm taking Melissa with me to shop, Jacqui. We won’t be back until this afternoon. I'll leave a hundred dollars to tip the movers when they finish." I wanted to protest being left alone in the house with a bunch of guys, but knew it would be of no use and probably only give Carla another chance to put me down, so I kept my peace.

"As things are brought in, get started putting them away."

"Ms. Martin, mum," I curtseyed, "may I wear panties please, to cover my chastity belt? This skirt is so short," I bobbed again with the hem of my skirt in my fingers, "and the house will be full of men."

She looked at me sharply, as if trying to figure out what trick I was pulling, but then waved at me dismissively. "Oh go ahead, if that will make you feel better." Then a huge grin lit up her face. "But wear that white frilly pair with all those ruffles you had in your suitcase."

That wasn't what I had in mind! I had gotten what I asked for, although not in the way I had I hoped. I knew there would be no point in arguing. I did as she’d said, comforting myself that at least my chastity belt would be hidden.

I was extremely embarrassed having so much of my legs displayed in my short uniform. The men couldn’t keep their eyes off me and I'm sure that their whispered conversations and laughter were about me. I kept myself as busy as I could, putting things away in one room while the movers worked in the others, just so I wasn’t constantly being ogled. Still, I couldn't help but feel exposed as I repeatedly bent and stretched. Try as I might, I simply couldn't keep my uniform skirt down low enough to cover my panties, much less the tops of my stockings. This alternately embarrassed me and then allowed me to feel relieved depending on whether I imaged the men actually being able to see my chastity belt, or just the panties.

Still, these were young men and they kept finding reasons to interrupt me to ask me where something or another was to go. In fact, it seemed to me that they tried to barge in on me when I was bent over so they could look up under my uniform.

At one point, I even considered joining their game by assuming poses that would allow them to see up my skirt or catching their eyes flirtatiously when they were checking me out. While I could imagine myself looking back over my shoulder with a sly grin on my face while my pantied butt stuck out from my bent-over-with-straight-legged pinup girl position, I never actually did anything. I was just too shy and overcome by my embarrassment to become a pinup girl for these guys. I wondered if Jacqui would ever feel comfortable flirting with a guy.

Other than that silly game of peek-a-boo, the five guys behaved and nothing untoward happened. In fact, I was so pleased with their behavior that I curtseyed nicely to them when they left and made sure to warmly shake each man’s hand as I thanked him for his effort. I tried to imagine myself up on my tip-toes kissing each one on the cheek, but I could never really get the image into focus in my mind. Strangely, this made me feel like I was somehow missing out on something, though I couldn't figure out what.

Ms. Martin (there, I thought, I had managed to think of my boss by her preferred name on the first try) and Melissa came back about four, just after the movers had left.

"Jacqui," she called as she came in the door. I hurried to the hallway and curtseyed. "Help Melissa unload the car and put things away while she prepares my dinner."

My wife didn't bother to inquire how my day had gone. Apparently, she didn't care or wasn't going to listen to complaints if I had any. I realized that there was really no reason any employer would be interested in anything except whether I'd done my job properly. I sighed to myself and went to find Melissa. Ms. Martin, I repeated to myself in my head. She is Ms. Martin.

"You owe me a hundred bucks," Melissa said as we prepared for bed.

"For what?"

"Your share of the food I bought for us. Remember? We are expected to provide our own. Ms. Martin made that quite clear when we were in the supermarket."

"Two hundred dollars buys an awful lot of food," I countered.

"Well, I had to buy everything we need to stock our little kitchen. Besides, I'm not charging you for anything we took from my apartment. I’ll give you the receipt if it will make you happy."

"No, please, Melissa, that's not necessary." Apparently, the First Girl was not in a pleasant mood, judging by her tone.

"You alright? You don't seem very happy," I asked.

"It's just that we're both grounded until the entire house is up to Ms. Martin's standards. She spent most of the afternoon lecturing me about it, as if I were some ignorant maid."

I giggled. Melissa turned on me with fire in her eyes. I tried to mollify her.

"It's not that bad, really. Together, we’ll manage it."

"There's more." Melissa hesitated a moment.

"You are responsible for all the maintenance: cars, grounds, repairs, whatever is required. You hire contractors and you supervise them."

"Wearing a French maid's uniform, I suppose," I said sarcastically.

"Don't be a smart ass with me!" Melissa snapped; so much for my efforts to calm her down. "You can if you want, otherwise it is the proper maid uniform, or the chauffeuse uniform for anything to do with the vehicles."

I climbed up in my bed that night, feeling sorry for myself and wanting out of this entire situation. Without alcohol, I was having a hard time getting to and staying asleep and was nervous and jittery all the time. What had I let myself in for? I especially wanted out of the damned steel belt that effectively denied me any pleasure. I should have gone to the damn spa.

Melissa was fair in the distribution of work and frequently we worked on the same chores together, like doing dishes, cleaning rooms, or doing the laundry and ironing. We'd been told that our days were to start at six thirty, not seven, when we had to be on call in case Ms. Martin needed us. We were to be in the kitchen preparing breakfast and planning our day by seven in any case. To be properly groomed and uniformed by six thirty meant that we had to get got out of bed by five thirty every day.

"Girl's we have an appointment with a dressmaker I've found," Ms. Martin stated one morning after we'd mostly settled into the new house and made good headway towards getting it into shape. "After you clean up here, change into afternoon uniforms and be ready to leave by nine. I want new livery for my staff."

The dressmaker's was operated by two sisters near the Realtor's office. It was a modern boutique with off street parking.

"I want both of you to keep quiet and just do as you are told while we are inside. And I especially want no protests."

"What's to protest about getting new uniforms, mum?" Melissa casually asked.

"I don't think either of you are going the like the corsets you'll have to start wearing," Ms. Martin smiled. I stared at Melissa to see her reaction. I certainly didn't like what I'd just heard.

"Hold on, mum. I agreed to be your maid, not some fetish freak."

"That will do, Melissa!" Ms. Martin barked, "You can read your contract when we get home. In the meantime, inside, both of you!

End of Part II

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

"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.

"Jacqui, I really do like you."

I jumped up, startling her. "Like, not love? Is that what our relationship has become? And so quickly too?"

. . .this was a wonderful opportunity that so many T’s long for - a formal date with a charming man.

"You and I both know that if I have surgery, it will mark the end of John."

_______________________________________________________________

I fell asleep thinking about what had happened and just what Kurt wanted with me and how I was going to react if he demanded sex. I didn’t think that I would be able to handle it very well at all. But then, if he had been married for twenty-six years and loved his wife, could he also be gay or bi? Maybe he didn’t want sex with me at all. What would I do? I don’t know whether I fell asleep because I was so confused or despite of it. How could my supposedly stress-free life as a maid have become so hard?

"Jacqui, what are Mr. Mark's plans for you tomorrow night, please?" Ms. Martin asked me at breakfast.

"I'm to be very pretty and dressed in a fancy dress and be ready to be picked up at seven, mum. He told me he would be wearing a tuxedo and that we'd be going to dinner at a fancy restaurant." I curtseyed. It was now a well in-grained reflex.

"And after that?" Ms. Martin sounded skeptical. I don't think that she knew any more than I did. I told her that I had no idea if Mr. Mark had anything else planned.

She just shook her head.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to get ready to leave. "Melissa, you’re so nice to let me use your car today. How about I do the upstairs before I leave to thank you. I really was feeling grateful and excited too, to be going off shopping on my own.

"Thanks. I accept," She gave me a hug. We've overnight guests, so don't vacuum, you don’t want to wake them.

I went up to Ms. Martin's room and started to make her bed. We usually changed her sheets for fresh ones on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Even though it was Thursday, I changed them again because of the stains in the middle. I tried not to think about what had caused them. But then, when I emptied the wastebasket in the bathroom, three used condoms fell into my trash bag.

I tried to hold back my tears, but I couldn’t. How could Carla ... Ms. Martin … the bitch, do this to me? She had sex ... no, Jacqui, use the right word; she'd fucked another man. Then I really started to cry. What a laugh. Look at yourself - I turned to the mirror, all dressed up as a girl, but not just any sort of girl, no, not just any girl at all, but her maid. My hair and make up made me look Asian, just as she wanted. No, she hadn’t fucked 'another' man. She'd fucked a real man.

I'd let her lock me in a steel chastity belt. Shit, that was wrong too. I'd begged her to lock me into it. I wasn't a man anymore. Was ‘anymore’ even the right word? Was I ever a man?

It bothered me; it bothered me a lot! It was worse, so it seemed to me then, than having been blackmailed into dating a man. I sat on the bathtub crying into a dirty towel for ten minutes. I really had lost Carla. She was sleeping around despite her claim to love me. Were my days as a man… her husband, over? I had to flee the bathroom to abort that train of thought.

Barely containing my tears, I finished her suite and then went to clean ours. At least I didn't find any spent rubbers in the trash by Melissa's vanity. I then went to get dressed to leave.

Even this was frustrating, though in a different way. Most of my skirts and dresses would no longer fit because my waist was now so much thinner than it had been - another reminder that I was no longer a man. I did have a white turtleneck dress that was just like some of my long sleeved tops, but ending a few inches above my knees instead of on my hips. I put that on, clipping a wide elastic belt about my waist to help it look right. White pumps completed the simple, yet sexy look. Did I want to look sexy? It didn't matter any longer, I did, and short of putting on a fright mask, I wasn't about to change that easily. Maybe it was time to appreciate myself for what I was, or, at last, what I appeared to be. It was strange, if I had looked like this a year ago, I would have thought I had died and gone to heaven; now I was regretting it. Why was that? Oh shit, this was all so confusing!

My original plan was to go to a few large malls. Backing out of the garage, I formed a better idea.

"Good morning," I curtseyed to Suzanne.

"Hi, Jacqui. What brings you here?"

"I need a dress. I've got a date and nothing to wear." She started to laugh and I didn't understand why.

When she stopped, she asked, "What girl ever does? I own a boutique and my husband claims I always say that to him. You know what? It’s always true!" She started to laugh again.

"Do you have you anything in mind?"

I was comfortable with Suzanne, she'd already seen my chastity belt and had made my uniforms; I didn’t need to hide anything from her. As she knew that much about me already, I was more at ease in her pricey boutique than in a strange shop at a mall.

"Not really, my date said we were going to the most elegant restaurant he knew of and that the men wore tuxedos and the women wore either long gowns or a cocktail dresses. I think I'd prefer a cocktail dress, but don't know what sort. I've never owned one before."

It was my turn to laugh when she asked me what I'd worn on other dates with my ‘boyfriend'.

"We just met yesterday, Suzanne, and the only thing Kurt has seen me in was the afternoon uniform with the low décolletage that you made for me." She gave me a huge grin.

"Ah, the maid made an impression on one of the guests. I see." She led me to toward the racks of dresses along the wall. "Your boyfriend must have a good job to be able to spend a few hundred dollars over dinner with you. I'm sure it will be better than Burger-King ®."

We chatted over the next hour while I was shown what seemed to be every dress in the shop. Nothing really excited me though.

As we paused for a few moments, Suzanne thought for a moment and finally said, "Come in the back." She led me to a rack marked, 'Completed Commissions' and pushed around the plastic covered dresses for a few moments.

"Here it is." She lifted the hanger to her chin pressing the white dress to herself to display it. My breath caught in my throat. This could be it!

"May I see it, please?" Suzanne lifted up the plastic to reveal a strapless, white leather sheath. Hesitantly, I reached and touched it. The leather was as soft as warm butter.

"Oh my, it’s just luscious. May I try it on?"

"Certainly. It should fit you. That’s why I showed it to you." She made an obvious effort to hide the paper that had been taped on the front of the plastic protector. I decided not to concern myself with it. I wanted to try on that dress; even if couldn't afford it.

It looked … no, it screamed sex. I didn't care. I didn’t even care when Suzanne had to tighten my corset a bit more in order to zip the dress. It was gorgeous. I had never understood how women wore strapless gowns, but this one had a few corset bones to keep it up there and its hem touched the floor.

"You'll need higher heels, Jacqui," Suzanne said.

Walking to face the mirror was a new experience for me. The satin lined skirt followed the contours of my body, swelling over my hips, and then it fell perfectly straight, to the floor. It wasn't really a hobble dress, which would have narrowed below my cheeks, but it still restricted the movement of my legs, even though it did have a slit in the back. Still, even with that, I doubted I could cross my knees when I sat.

"How much?" I asked while admiring myself in the mirrors. I had never liked the look of long, straight gowns, but this dress changed my mind.

"Nine hundred dollars," Suzanne said reluctantly, knowing I wouldn’t be able to afford it. Holding up the skirt with one hand, I walked away and went to a showcase that displayed gloves and found a shoulder length pair in white satin that completed the look I was imagining. They were one hundred fifty dollars.

"Nine hundred fifty," I offered, "including these gloves." She looked at the ones I’d selected.

"One thousand twenty-five and they’re a steal for that price."

"Please help me out of the dress?" I asked.

"One thousand dollars, but not a penny lower."

"Really Suzanne, I can’t reach the zipper."

"But I'm losing money, Jacqui."

"Nine hundred seventy-five dollars or I'll shop elsewhere and suggest the same to my employer."

Suzanne started to giggle. "You win, you little cunt."

I giggled too and gave her my biggest smile. Aside from being delighted that I had gotten such a terrific dress and the gloves without spending any of my own money, she’d called me a 'cunt', what a nice compliment. It thrilled me to the bone.

In the short time that I'd been employed as a maid and having no expenses, except for food and makeup, I had saved several hundred dollars from my meager wages. I blew a little over two hundred of that at the shoe shore and a jewelry outlet before arriving back at the house at four.

After putting away my packages, I got into my uniform and went downstairs to find Melissa.

"If I may, I'd like to assume all of your duties for tonight, Melissa, and give you my evening off, okay?" She smiled and kissed my cheek, but before she could answer me I added, "I filled the tank too." Loaning me her vehicle had been a big gesture and I wanted to return the kindness.

"That's really sweet, Jacqui. I'll accept. Thank you." Before going upstairs, the First Girl briefed me on Ms. Martin's meal and the other small details of the evening.

Ms. Martin asked right away, why I was serving instead of Melissa, but accepted my explanation with little more than a nod.

"How did your shopping trip go, Jacqui?" She seemed genuinely interested, but I wasn’t feeling particularly friendly towards her. I couldn’t understand how she could treat me so nicely one moment, but then sleep with some guy right in front of my eyes the next. It hurt me terribly and I was growing increasingly resentful. I decided to express my displeasure with her by keeping our conversation as formal as possible.

"It went very well, mum." My voice was flat, "I put together an appropriate outfit. Suzanne was most helpful."

"You certainly seem happier about going out with Kurt than you did yesterday," she said warmly. Carla’s obvious show of affection melted my defenses easily. I just couldn’t cut myself off from her. What the hell, I rationalized, it couldn’t hurt if I talked.

"I've accepted it as something I have to do. I don’t like the circumstances that forced me to accept. I hate being blackmailed and having our company held up for ransom. I especially hate what I'm going to have to give him, but I don’t see any alternatives. Do you, mum?" As I spoke, my anger returned. Despite the evidence, I did blame Carla … no, make that Ms. Martin, for what had happened. My voice became cold and accusing.

Her expression shifted from concerned friendliness to indifferent distance. It was amazing how she could turn off her emotions so quickly.

"I've no solutions for you, Jacqui. Truly, I wish I did." She said it, but I didn’t believe her, at least I didn’t want to believe her, I wanted to be mad at her.

"How are you going to deal with satisfying his needs? His wife died more than three years ago, he's probably real horny."

I wished she hadn't asked me that. Her voice almost sounded like she was worried about me, but her words felt like a knife twisting in my ribs. I looked at her carefully. It was as if she had tried to act nice, but her underlying malice had gotten the better of her. Yes, I was sure she wanted to see me squirm. Even though I didn’t want to think about what might happen, I sure as hell wasn't going to give Carla the pleasure of knowing how I felt. I kept my face in a neutral mask as I thought about the situation.

There wasn’t any reason to think that Kurt might be gay, but how can you ever tell? So maybe he had no interest in sex with me. The problem with that theory is that he had kissed me and seemed to enjoy it. Hell, so had I, but I wasn’t anywhere near ready to even consider that thought just then.

"I can't say. I just don’t know, mum. I'll deal with it when I have to. Do you know if he’s gay?" My voice quavered slightly as I finished speaking, revealing my anxiety even as I tried to conceal it. Damn! Carla’s expression changed again. Now she truly looked concerned.

"Come here." I walked to her side of the dining room table as she pushed her chair back. "Sit on my lap." She patted the tops of her thighs.

I sat stiffly, feeling very uneasy. Carla hugged me anyway.

"Jacqui, I really do like you." I jumped up, startling her.

"Like, not love? Is that what our relationship has become? And so quickly too," I went on archly. "Well, I guess that’s not surprising considering how many men you’re fucking." I spit the word out, like an epitaph. "Don’t lie to me Carla, I’m not a total fool."

"Finish your chores then go up stairs. Good night, Jacqui." She said it sadly, but I wasn’t impressed. I just turned around and started to leave the room. Despite my anger, my training stopped me at the door. I turned and curtseyed to my former wife. Bending my knees deeply and being as gracefully as I could was the only way I could think of to keep from feeling completely humiliated. In the moment it took to straighten my knees, I had a flash of insight.

Why should a well-executed curtsey help to keep me from feeling humiliated? Because it was John who was feeling shamed, not Jacqui. Jacqui was her own girl. Even if she was only a maid, she was a human being. By the time I looked up to say, ‘Good night, mum’, I had a small smile on my face. Although I didn’t say it aloud, I couldn’t help but think, ‘you bitch,’ after mum.

I didn't ask permission, but once I was ready for bed. I just got under the covers with Melissa. She silently accepted me into her arms, drew me close and fell back to sleep. I lay there for quite awhile, my mind in turmoil, before I finally fell asleep hugging her tightly in my arms.

"I need to be laced in tighter than normal," I told Melissa in the morning, "so my new dress fits." She did as I asked without questioning me further.

When we got downstairs, I was told to put out two place settings. Apparently, someone had come over after I went to bed.

I stared in disbelief. "What?" Before Melissa could reply, we were interrupted by voices.

"Are you sure you'll not stay for breakfast, Michael?" We could see Ms. Martin and a man I had never seen before standing in the hallway, facing each other and holding hands. I did not want to see this, so I quickly finished setting the table and hurried into the kitchen.

Carla was alone when I carried in the coffee and juice.

"Good morning, Jacqui." She had a radiant, well-fucked glow and her green eyes sparkled in the morning light.

"Good morning, mum," I replied stoically, while filling her cup and setting the juice glass.

"Remove the other place setting, Jacqui."

"Yes, mum." That was it. Nothing more was said.

"Jacqui," Melissa said after she had come back from a brief meeting with Carla, "neither Ms. Martin nor I will be in this evening when you get back, so don't worry."

After I finished the unpleasant task of changing Ms. Martin’s damp, smelly sheets yet again and emptying more condoms from the trash, the day went quickly. I watered my plants then went up the spiral staircase to the maids’ quarters, which were flooded with sunlight. Setting up an email account for myself and further tweaking the settings on our computer took an hour, and re-polishing my long nails with pearlescent white occupied another. I had nothing else to do, so I stripped, donned a nightshirt and climbed into bed for a nap.

A shower would have been nice and a bath would have been great, but Melissa wasn’t home and I'd never be able to do my laces tightly enough by myself. A shampoo and a thorough wash had to substitute.

There was no way I could change my hair, so I simply blew it out and brushed it smooth and shiny. As I sat there checking it, I realized for the first time since it had been cut, that "Ms. Martin" had dictated that I wear it in a bubble cut and that was that. I didn't have a choice in the matter. I'd been locked into my hairdo just as effectively as I had been locked into my chastity belt, which made me a sexless person.

I had to stop thinking about things like these, so instead I concentrated on applying my makeup. Melissa had set high standards for me from the beginning, but tonight, I had to do it to meet a higher standard - my own. I realized that if I was to have any hope of surviving the upcoming ordeal, Jacqui had to be in control. Sure, Carla, Melissa and now Kurt, controlled me to an important degree, but I could control some things and little Jacqui, the maid, was going to do this right. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on inside my head, but tonight, Jacqui the maid, was going to practice her feminine wiles on Kurt. I giggled, Kurt mit eine K, Mark. It was time for Jacqui to become her own girl.

After smoothing on a matte-finish, alabaster foundation, I carefully glued subtle false lashes in place on both top and bottom. I stroked on mascara and lined my eyes with a softened pencil, carefully creating a very sexy, smudged look. Then I extended the line from the outer corners to create the slant-eyed appearance that gave my vaguely Asian face a more obviously Asian look. I carefully smudged black eye shadow on my upper eyelids then blended it invisibly to dark and then pale gray under my brows to enhance the chionsoir effect I wanted.

Staring at my face, I decided that my eyebrows were wrong. I plucked some more and then applied black pencil from where they started above the inner corner of my eye to where they ended above the pupil. 'Perfect', I thought.

I dusted just a hint of blush high on my cheekbones and finally I opened the new lipstick I'd bought. I took my time brushing on the red patent color, the only real color I would wear that evening. My lips started to appear like glazed porcelain on my otherwise matte face. I would have to remember to fix them repeatedly if I wanted to maintain this fabulous look.

Carla had given me a bottle of Opium after she decided I should look Asian, so I applied the heady fragrance in all the right places. It wasn’t until I dabbed some into my cleavage that I learned, much to my delight, that the scent of new leather would mix with it to create a dramatically intoxicating effect. I hoped Kurt would like it as much as I did.

Keeping one gloved hand on the railing while the other held my small clutch and lifted my skirt, I slowly and carefully descended the steel spiral staircase to the kitchen. I could walk just fine wearing the six-inch strappy sandals, but going down the stairs in them and a long, tight dress was still treacherous at best.

Sitting on the front edge of a kitchen chair, I practiced with my gloves. I'd no intention of leaving them on to dine. After unbuttoning the wrist, I was able to slide the arm-length sheath down, work my hand out then fold that part inside the sheath and smooth the sleeve back into place. I did the same on my left arm. Replacing the gloves consumed most of the rest of the remaining time. I hoped I could do them gracefully and not look like a jerk in the restaurant. It would be fun to watch Kurt's face as I did it.

Then, with nothing to do to keep my mind occupied, I quickly started to worry. What had I just done? I went to extravagant lengths to make myself as sexy as possible for a date with a guy, that’s what. On one level I understood that I just loved to get dressed up and that hadn’t changed. Plus, this was a wonderful opportunity that so many T’s long for - a formal date with a charming man. I had certainly taken full advantage of my opportunity so far. I looked and felt fantastic.

But how was I going to relate to Kurt? Was I going to be a cross-dressed guy who loved his clothes, but was scared of touching another guy? That’s certainly what I have been. Or was I going to be a woman? That was what I was supposed to be finding out, wasn’t it? I was living as Jacqui to see if I was Jacqui. Jacqui was a woman who… who… who knew how to control and manipulate a man with her feminine charms? Not yet, but maybe. Yes, it seemed to me right then that I only had that one choice.

That was okay, because I understood it was a choice that carried many opportunities. I could have a lot of fun allowing Kurt to escort me to all kinds of wonderful places. He would be my way out of the house and he would fight my battles with my bitchy employer, Ms. Carla Martin. I could tell Kurt what and where I wanted to go and he would take me there, whether the bitch thought I should go or not. Not only that, but if I played this right, I could flaunt my new 'boyfriend' at her, just the way she had flaunted her new lovers at me.

Yes, this could work. The key was that I had to get control of Kurt and I knew the only way to do that was to be the cute, flirty little maid he was looking for. I had to do to him just what women had always done to men to control them.

Then, before I could get any further in this train of thought, soft tapping on a glass pane in the door, startled me. It was Kurt, promptly on time. Carla had made it clear to him that he was dating her maid and that her servants used only the servants' entrance to her house. I was willing to bet this was the first time Kurt had ever had to use a servant’s entrance for any reason.

I minced over to the door, it was impossible to do much else in that dress and those shoes, took a deep breath, well, as deep as I could in my tight corset, and opened the door, letting go of it so I could pose in the door frame for Kurt. I dropped a brief, shallow curtsey, since that was all I could manage, then stood in a classic model’s pose, turned slightly to the side to emphasize my curves, with one hand on my hip and the other turned out. I looked up into Kurt’s eyes with the most dreamy look I could muster.

"Mein Gott," Kurt repeated softly several times after the loud gasp he let out as I'd straightened from my curtsey. Smiling, I pirouetted for him. I was showing off and felt great doing it. Jacqui was in control … at least of herself… so far.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Jacqui."

"Danke schoen." I dipped a little again. "Guten Abend, Kurt." I glided close and gave him a small kiss on the lips. He did not move. I was committed now, but was I really that much in control?

"I have brought you a flower, but its beauty is over shadowed by the Flower of the Orient," he said as he offered me a corsage box.

"Oh," I exclaimed, "it’s just perfect. It's beautiful." I lifted the white orchid from its nest of green tissues. "But how did you know to pick white tonight?" He just shrugged and smiled. "Put it on me, please?" I extended my left arm so he could place it on my wrist. I half expected him to lift my hand and touch it to his lips, but he simply put the corsage on me. It truly was lovely.

I had thought he'd drive his big Mercedes, but I was wrong. His car was big, but he'd neither driven it nor was it a Mercedes. His chauffeur bowed at our approach and tended the door of the huge, antique Rolls Royce.

I lifted my slender dress to my knees. It may not have been a proper, lady-like maneuver, but it was the only way that I could think of to get in. I could see Kurt watching my stockinged ankles and severely arched feet, which I allowed to linger for a moment in his view before pulling them in the car. He waited until I was settled on the cream leather seat before getting in next to me from the other side.

We started down the driveway in silence. It was quiet, because not only had we'd not spoken, but I couldn't even hear the exhaust from the engine and could barely feel the movement.

"This is a very fine motor car," I faked in a British accent.

"I like it, but my Audi tt is much more fun. I see that I made the right decision not to bring it this evening."

"An' 'ow's that, guv?" I was being blonde and not thinking that getting into a low sports car wearing what I was would be nearly impossible. He started to laugh.

"You are nothing but surprises, Jacqui. 'an 'ow's that, guv'?" He imitated and laughed harder. He slid away from me then turned towards me, not saying anything. What made him do that?

"Why did you move away? Is there something wrong with me?" I asked, worried.

"No, no, you are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen," Kurt replied quickly, "This is the only way that I can see all of you and admire your beauty."

How could I possibly respond to a compliment like that? "Well, when you've seen enough of me, come back over here," I pouted, trying to look very disappointed while I was thinking I that I had come up with a brilliant reply.

"And why would you want me close to you? You wanted nothing to do with me when I first politely asked you to accompany me to dinner, pretty Jacqui?"

He had me there. No, I hadn't! Since he brought it up, however, I saw an opening that might let me use his blackmail to some advantage. "I was very upset and humiliated that you guessed who I was Kurt. And I resent being forced to do anything." That was the truth.

Kurt surprised me by looking remorseful and asking for forgiveness. "I am sorry, Jacqui, I truly am. No one can undo the past, but I am sorry that I hurt you." He gave me a little, embarrassed smile and said, "I would really like to make it up to you. At first, I was fascinated by you because I thought you were a lovely and exotic young woman. When I learned that you were John, I became even more fascinated, although I'm not sure why. I wanted to take you out — away from your mistress' house - to perhaps find out. I hope you believe me when I say it is Jacqui I am interested in. No one else. I see no one else here." He slid close and kissed my cheek.

It was obvious to me that throwing the blackmail in his face wasn't going to accomplish anything. He seemed sincere and honest, traits I had already known about him from when we worked together. I would have to play this relationship differently.

"Did I properly thank you for the corsage?" I kissed him quickly on the lips, "Thank you," then sat back. His grin was totally disarming; he looked like a high school kid who had just been kissed by his favorite girl. In truth neither one of us knew what was going to happen, and I think we were both secretly happy to just sit silently for the rest of the ride, which was only a few more minutes.

Valets tended the doors as soon as his chauffeur had stopped the Rolls at the entrance to the restaurant. I worked hard to make my emergence from the car a memorable event and was rewarded by their reactions. 'Eyes as big as dinner platters' would not have been an exaggeration. I really tingled with pride when the very attractive and affluent people in the lobby fell silent as Kurt escorted me inside on his arm. Then I had a strange thought. All my life I had been an ordinary American male. Now, all of a sudden, I was an exotic Asian woman. I was not really a part of their culture anymore. How interesting! But then I saw another couple, an older man with a very young, very lovely woman, who I was sure had been hired for the occasion. I wondered how many people looked and me thought I was a call girl too.

I don’t know if it was Kurt or the restaurant, but the Maitre d' was a true gentleman, who didn’t have his palm extended as he sat us in the very dark, far corner.

"Please sit there so only I can admire you, Jacqui." Kurt motioned me to the chair that would place my back to the room. "I do not think I wish to share your beauty with the others tonight." His compliment was a bit embarrassing and I flushed slightly, looking down and then back up through my lashes. I had no problem with his request because I really didn't want to see the stares of the other diners and would be better able to relax and concentrate on Kurt without that distraction.

"Will you share champagne or another wine with me this evening?" he asked while scanning through the thick wine list the sommelier had presented.

"No, thank you, Kurt. I had a drinking problem, before I accepted my current position. I really feel much better now that I have dried out. I 'm not going down that path again."

He briefly raised an eyebrow in question, but only said, "Thank you, Jacqui, I feel honored you shared that with me. I will not ask you again to share any alcohol with me." He gave me a small smile.

He conferred briefly with our waiter and I used the time to perform the exercise of uncovering my hands. I could see them both watching me and smiled inside as I tried to be as graceful as possible.

"You would fit well in La Grande Epoch, Jacqui," he chuckled, watching what I was doing.

"My waist isn't small enough ... yet," I countered with a small giggle, "and I forgot my fan tonight," I said, waving my hand in front of my face. He laughed at my reply, which pleased me. I started to relax.

"I see now why you like the music of Strauss. Which of his are your favorites?

"There is one Viennese polka that I really like - Tritsch-Tratsch, or something like that, but I'm not sure of the exact name. It's lively and fun sounding. Whenever I listen to it, I can't help but to picture myself twirling rapidly all around a grand ballroom in an elegant gown with my skirts and petticoats swirling about me. It's my dream to actually do that some day." I'd closed my eyes and let the picture form while the melody came back to me. Nodding my head slightly to the rhythm, I hummed part of it, smiling.

When I opened my eyes and saw Kurt’s curious look, I blushed furiously. I couldn’t believe I had just shared that particular fantasy with him. Almost immediately, John started to feel humiliated and I started to panic. I hadn’t banished him from the evening as effectively as I had thought. My feelings must have shown on my face because Kurt guessed immediately, what was going on in my head.

"Jacqui, give me your hands," he commanded softly. He gently enveloped my hands in his, holding them like you might hold a baby bird, too tight for me to pull away easily, but lightly enough so as not to scare or hurt me. "Now look at me Jacqui. I am here tonight with Jacqui. No one else. You look ravishing. Please relax?"

I could feel the sense of panic start to subside, so I took a couple of slow breaths to help out. I could feel my eyelids flutter a little bit, but I could also feel myself calming down. I closed my eyes again, feeling the nurturing strength in Kurt’s grip.

When I looked up again, Kurt said, "Tell me about your gown."

I took another one of my deep breaths, which to anyone not in a corset would only have been considered shallow, and let my imagination go. "It has a green velvet bodice, heavy, with a taffeta skirt and lots of taffeta petticoats." I went on to describe it in detail.

"Why taffeta?" he asked.

"Because of the frou-frou."

"Frou-frou?"

"The sound. Other fabrics can make it too, but compared to taffeta all the others are weak imitations," I said.

"I'm still do not understand what you mean?"

"It's the rustling," I shrugged, not knowing just how to explain what I was talking about. "At the party, did you hear the soft sounds my petticoats made as I walked?" Kurt nodded. "That sound is frou-frou." His instant smile reflected his understanding.

"Yes, a most delightful sound, especially with the click from your heels as an accompaniment."

"By George, I think you've got it." I giggled.

I ordered a steamed lobster and Kurt the rack of lamb.

"Excellent!" he proclaimed upon tasting his selection. "Do you also like lamb?"

"Yes. The lobster is good too." We started to exchange forkfuls of food when I offered a piece of claw meat for him to taste. I think we each ate more of the others choice then our own when he returned the gesture and I followed it again. By then, John was completely gone and he stayed away for the rest of the night. Jacqui thoroughly enjoyed being treated as a lady by an elegant and cosmopolitan man.

We left the restaurant, arm in arm, giggling at silly jokes.

When we reached the car Kurt said, "Shall I take you dancing? I think I'd like that."

"Another time, perhaps, I must be home before midnight, Kurt."

"You'll be home when I take you there," he countered softly.

"Really, I must get some rest because I have to be on duty at seven o'clock."

"Jacqui, Carla and I have an agreement concerning you." All of a sudden, the reality of my situation came flooding back and my anger started to rise. I flinched. I did not like being forced by a blackmailer any more than I wanted to be manipulated by my 'mistress.'

"Would you rather whip me like your slave until I submit or would you prefer to have me date you willingly? I rather doubt you would like me as Jacqui the slave girl, Kurt." When he stiffened, I felt that I might have gone too far. Until then, our date had been a pleasant one.

We got into the car silently. A chill had definitely descended and was threatening to ruin our evening and the future. I knew I couldn’t let Kurt go home angry, but at the same time, I knew I had to do something to perhaps gain some control over our relationship while putting it on a more solid footing. I knew what I had to do, what any woman in my position would do, but I couldn’t believe that I was about to do it. It was to be a bold move on my part. As soon as he settled into his seat, I turned in mine and leaned over, putting my arms around his neck and moving my face next to his.

I whispered in his ear, "A slave girl might take an opportunity like this to strangle her master, but a girlfriend would want little more than to kiss him." I pressed my lips to his, brushing back and forth over them lightly before coming to rest gently.

Kurt hesitated for a moment, perhaps to see what was going to happen. But then he responded both with his lips and by pulling me closer with his arm. I blocked out everything but the sensations coming from my mouth and body. His lips were dry, but soft, so I tentatively stuck my tongue out and licked them lightly. Then he started to rub with a little more pressure and we kissed with closed lips for a minute while he rubbed my back with one hand and my leg, through the butter-soft leather of my dress, with the other. Then, without even thinking about it, I parted my lips and allowed him in.

He sought out my tongue carefully and tenderly and we spent some tentative moments getting used to each other’s taste and feel. I let out an involuntary sigh, which must have excited and encouraged him, because he became more active and aggressive. His tongue simply took over my mouth and his kiss became my entire consciousness. I had never been kissed like this before. His whole attitude was commanding, but he wasn’t at all threatening. Clearly, he was in charge, but I knew intuitively that he would not go anywhere I didn’t lead him, or at least allow him to go.

When we broke, Kurt held my waist with both his hands so I was a little away from his face.

"Liebling, I think that I would like you as a willing girlfriend and not a slave who I must beat into submission." I moved to rest my cheek on his shoulder then lay still, awaiting his next move.

He surprised me by sitting me up gently again so we could see each other’s faces. "Jacqui, I had no intimate contact with anyone but my wife from the time she and I met until she died." I thought he was saying this as if he regretted it, but when I saw the look of longing on his face, I understood that wasn’t what he meant at all. He had no regrets, he was just telling me about his past. He went on, "I’ve never been with a…"

I just knew he was going to say, ‘man’ and I began to stiffen, but instead he said, "a woman like you."

I was so delighted that he had called me a woman that I quickly relaxed again and laid my head back on his shoulder then reached my gloved hands around his broad chest. It didn’t even occur to me to wonder what ‘a woman like you’ might have meant.

As I did that, Kurt reached up and started to caress my hair and then my neck with the backs of his fingers. It was so different from anything I had experienced before. His touch was assuring, comforting, and enveloping. Women had caressed my head in the past, but they did it differently, never with such confidence, never to comfort, but rather to excite me, tease me in a mildly erotic way. Women had done it to encourage me to be more sexual with them. Kurt was simply letting me know that he valued me and wanted me to feel relaxed.

I sighed contentedly, closed my eyes and reached out to my body with my mind. I could feel one dangly earring hang between my ear and Kurt’s shoulder and the other simply lying against my cheek and neck, I could taste lipstick on my lips and the slight tug of the glue from my false eyelashes. The satin lining of the dress embraced my little breasts, pressing them into my chest and the corset compressed the rest of my torso like a giant, powerful hand. The skirt of my dress was so tight that it almost made me feel like my two legs were one, and for a moment I imagined I was a mermaid. Then I felt the erotic arch my six-inch heels forced upon my feet and I was a sexy woman again. I could smell my perfume, the leather of my dress and Kurt’s own distinct fragrance mixing in my nostrils. There seemed to be little doubt. There was a woman resting her cheek on her man's shoulder.

Even as I tried to burrow in closer to Kurt and enjoy the moment, my mind was restless. Snuggling with a man was strange and forbidden territory. As precious as this moment was, I couldn’t still my mind to savor it. Instead, I began to unravel it by wondering about its implications. What, I wondered to myself, is a woman? At that moment, I was as much of a woman as I had ever been, I looked like one, I acted like one and I was feeling pleased and even a little sexy with a man.

How could I be a woman? I had always thought I wanted to be one and now it looked pretty much like I’d succeeded, but there was just one problem. You see, I wasn’t a woman; I was a man. This was a game; I was masquerading, playing a role.

Or was I? I had always understood that simply looking like a woman wouldn’t make me one. It’s simply not enough. To be a woman, you also had to act like a woman. The only trouble was, I couldn’t imagine just what it meant to act like a woman, except in some stereotypical ways. So there must be something more.

All evening long, Kurt had me feeling delightfully attractive and feminine. He was a strong, confidant man and it was easy to feel like a fragile, desirable woman next to him. Maybe that was it. Being a woman meant you could do things that men couldn’t. A woman didn’t have to be anything in particular, but if she wanted, she could be flirtatious and charming and willing to let the guy take charge; she could be seductive, indirect and reactive, getting what she wanted by convincing the man he wanted to give those things to her. Right now, I thought, a real woman would enjoy the attentions of her man, especially if he was as elegant and handsome as mine.

That thought echoed in my head, 'mine,' 'my man'. And, all of a sudden, I knew exactly what I had to do. It was something that would have appalled and repulsed me only a few weeks ago. Even so, I didn’t feel driven to it by lust or overwhelming need, but the logic of the situation seemed inescapable. So I shifted in my seat so I could lie across Kurt’s lap.

"Kiss me, again" I said, "please?" The sound came up from my throat in a hoarse whisper that sounded full of need. I had no idea my voice could sound like that. Perhaps my body knew something I didn’t. It didn’t matter because Kurt was just perfect. He cradled me in his arms and turned so my back was across his legs. Then, with his hands behind my back, he lifted my upper body so my mouth was raised up to meet his as he looked down at me.

At the last moment, he looked into my eyes and whispered, "Are you sure?"

I hesitated just a second to look into his eyes. Perhaps he was feeling hesitant, or even repulsed. All I found there was gentle concern, and I imagined, a touch of lust. That washed away my inhibitions in a heartbeat and I responded, "Oh yes," the sound again coming from deep within my throat.

This time, I met him with open lips and sought his tongue immediately with my own, drawing both back into my mouth. I simply loved the feeling of being on my back with my lover above me, his tongue in my mouth. We kissed like that for quite some time and I began to squirm in his lap as surprising waves of erotic desire broke into my awareness.

At that moment, I had no name or identity. There was just me, the core of my being kissing another person and being kissed back with great warmth, affection and increasing need. If I could have thought and kissed at the same time, I would have realized that there was no magic switch, which I had to throw to become a woman. I would always be me and I would be a woman by being who I was. I would become Jacqui simply by being Jacqui. She wasn’t so different from John anyway, and at that moment she was a happy young woman.

I was so intent on our kiss that I gasped slightly when Kurt's hand found my breast and began to fondle it through the soft leather that sheathed it like a second skin. The satin lining felt exquisite as it glided breathlessly over my hardened nipple and the sensation caused an involuntary shiver to ripple through my body. Having heard my gasp and then felt the shiver, Kurt misunderstood and started to remove his hand. I quickly brought my hand up to recover his and I pressed it back down onto my breast, keeping my hand on top of it and arching my back to intensify the luscious feelings he was creating in me. When he had picked up the pace again himself, I let my nails softly scratch the back of his hand as I slid it away to drape it again over his shoulder.

I did not want it to stop - I wanted more, and we petted like two high school kids until we reached Carla's house, stopping only after the big Rolls had pulled up into the driveway. We spent a few minutes saying endearing things to each other, and then Kurt reminded me I needed to go to bed. By then, I didn’t want to leave him. I kissed and nibbled at his lips knowing that he would take responsibility and do the right thing. So before too long he was opening the kitchen door for me and giving me a final good night kiss before seeing me safely inside. I was truly a little breathless after I shut the door and leaned back against it, one leg bent back, the sole of my foot resting just above the kick plate. God, is this how a teenage girls feel after their first kiss? It was simply stunning.

The house was strange in its silence. As Melissa had promised, there were no lights in the tower, nor in Ms. Martin's apartment. I went right upstairs to get ready for bed because I had to be up tomorrow morning in any case.

I purposefully concentrated on what I was doing, as I undressed and cleaned my face. I wasn’t yet prepared to think about the evening. It wasn’t until I got into bed that I allowed myself to wonder about what had I done. Surprisingly, the first answer that popped into my mind was, 'I had a good time.' In fact, I had a great time! I was still tingling from Kurt’s attentions and I raised my hand to my breast to try to recreate some of those stomach-turning delights.

Then, as I recalled the feeling of Kurt’s hand on my breast, I became acutely aware that I had, for the first time in my life, willingly engaged in sexual play with a man. My body literally stiffened at the thought and my breath caught in my throat. I quickly drew my hand away from my breast, embarrassed at what I had done and was doing. I could feel my face warm as I flushed in the darkness of my bedroom.

I had never felt any attraction for men, but I couldn’t deny that Kurt had really gotten me turned on once I allowed myself to relax into the moment. I had always assumed I would find being kissed or fondled by a man repulsive, and I had done my best to assure I would never be put in that situation. I was badly confused now, but as I thought back, I had to admit that I hadn’t really been repulsed even when Delveccio, the landscaper, had kissed and fondled me when he was giving me an estimate for the yard work. Maybe…

I wasn’t ready to go there yet. Still, as I lay in bed thinking these thoughts, I knew that I wanted to spend more time with Kurt and would certainly kiss him if he initiated it. In my heart, I knew where that might lead, but I chose not to imagine what it would look or feel like. After all, I rationalized, both Kurt and I were in the same boat, heading into new territory neither one of us had ever navigated before. He might not even want to continue, I thought, after all, he’s not gay and I’m really a man. Then, I was startled to realize that I would be terribly disappointed if that’s how he felt. Oh hell, there would be plenty of time to figure this out.

I turned my thoughts to my chastity belt, tracing my nails around the edges of my horrid personal prison as I'd done so many times since I'd allowed it to be put on. I wondered, yet again, why I was wearing it. What a fool I'd made of myself, actually begging for it. Kurt had found it, of course, while we petted. He lifted his head away from my face, looking at me with questioning eyes. I just shrugged back in response and he let it drop. Would I be asking Kurt to help me get it off one of these days soon? I didn’t want to think about that either. I eventually fell asleep with my hand over my steel encased crotch.

I arose Saturday at the regular time, put on my uniform and groomed myself as required. I was enjoying my false eyelashes and had left them on last night. They were still in place in the morning and I was delighted with my eyes. Too bad no one would see them, I sighed. Melissa’s bed was still empty. Before I started Ms. Martin's coffee and breakfast, I checked to see if she was home. She wasn’t. I took the little time required to do all of the chores then retired to our quarters, intending to stay there for the rest of the day.

Ms. Martin returned about three o'clock and found me at the computer.

"Hello, Jacqui," she smiled when I'd stood and curtseyed. After I returned her greeting she said, "May I sit and talk for a moment? How are you doing? How did things go last night?" her tone was inviting and, after everything that had happened the previous night, I really wanted to talk, but I was still wary of her.

"The evening went very well. Kurt is a real gentleman. Thank you for inquiring, mum."

"Oh, sit down and relax, please? I really don’t want to play games. In fact, I came up here to tell you that I'm quite pleased with your performance and the way things are going. You have adapted well, far exceeding my expectations."

"Well, that makes me feel ever so much better, mum. I have never wanted anything but to please you. You must be very happy that I’m adapting to your sleeping around."

She started to get angry, rising out of her seat for a moment, but she quickly settled back down and instead simply looked at me with more than a bit of frustration. I hadn’t meant to be so caustic; it had just slipped out. You know what? I didn’t care. A little honesty couldn’t possibly hurt our relationship now.

Carla composed herself and went on as if I hadn’t said anything at all. "Tell me how you'd like to change your position, Jacqui?"

That, caught me by surprise, I hadn’t thought she was going to allow anything to change.

"Well, I'd really like to get out of my chastity belt sometimes, mum. It’s uncomfortable and humiliating." Her response was just a small smile. I took it as condescending and started to get angry. Was she humiliating me on purpose?

"Anything else?" I gave her a sour look, she was just blowing me off, but what the hell, by now I’d thought of a couple of things; might as well start with the least likely.

"Yes, mum. It's very embarrassing to have others recognize me as John." Her brow furrowed. "As long as I'm in this role, I'd like it very much if I could change my appearance enough so that didn't happen anymore. I know it will only be until late August, but I really don’t want anyone else to know who I really am."

"Late August?" She gave me a questioning look. "Ah, yes - the three month trial you agreed to. Think a moment, do you really want to change back to what you used to be?"

Did I? I wasn't so sure. My old job at our company had evolved into something that was not fun. It was flat hard work and stressful as hell. The sad fact was that I hadn’t been doing it very well either. Now that I had been a maid for six weeks, without any of that pressure, I was starting to enjoy my life. Did I really want the personnel problems I had to deal with almost daily? Did I want to kiss some customer's ass, just to keep his business? There were a hundred ‘did I’s’ to consider, but, before I could get to any more of them, Carla made my internal debate moot.

"There's a problem with terminating this," she gestured at my uniform, "that I’m afraid we hadn’t considered, Jacqui."

I looked at her. "What?"

"Your boyfriend. I spoke with him on my cell phone while driving home."

"You what…? How dare you?" God Damnit! I felt violated! She'd no right to call Kurt to check on my performance!

"Be quiet and listen!" she barked, before settling herself again.

"I called to try to talk him out of the threats he made to force you to date him. I don't like blackmail and I'm sure you feel the same way. I know that you aren't gay and have no interest in men. Whatever else you may think of me, there's no way that I'm forcing you to date him or any other man, Jacqui. My call was to try and explain and get Kurt to back off and leave you alone." I wrinkled my lip, waiting to hear what the outcome of her call had been.

"Apparently, you made a very big impression on him," she smiled. "You were the perfect date last night. He wants to see you a lot more. Instead of withdrawing his promise of exposing you in public and taking his company's business elsewhere, Kurt has upped the ante." My stomach churned.

"I'm to make you available whenever he wants to be with you."

"Don't I have any say in this - dating him or not?" I had forgotten about the good time I had last night and how luscious it was to be in Kurt’s arms. All of a sudden, I was John again and reacting the same way I always had when someone tried to force me to do something. I resisted instinctively, but now I was feeling desperate. I felt trapped and I was getting anxious, just like I always had in similar situations. It was a response that had helped keep me out of trouble when I was a CEO, but now…

"You know the answer to that."

"I did tell him that by the end of August you were no longer going to be in this position." She paused to stare at me, expressing concern with her eyes. "Jacqui, the choice, still is yours. You may feel as if you don’t have any options, but you do."

"Like what?" I cried, my voice rising in desperation.

"You could remain here in your current role or you could disappear."

"Why can't we just tell him to fuck off and let him just do as he threatens? I'll stand up and take it and there are other customers we can find.

"Mind your tongue, girl!"

"Oh give me a break, Carla, I’m not your fucking ‘girl’. I’m sick of your condescending crap. You have me locked up," I gestured at my groin, but when I looked down and saw the lacey white apron that covered it, I grimaced then looked back at her with distaste, "and you fuck anything you can drag into bed. You have no right to talk to me like that unless I agree to it."

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. That was something else I couldn’t do - take a deep breath. "There’s another factor in this, Toni. As you might expect, she's my assistant now. If you return to work as John, she'll probably inform everyone there and all of our customers. Toni likes you as Jacqui."

This was an entirely new twist. "Just fire her!" Now I was frantic and almost in tears.

"You know what would happen then." Carla came over, grabbed me and hugged me tightly. That loosed my tears.

"We'll work something out," she said as she comforted me.

Despite my tears, I laughed. "Yeah sure. Like it really matters to your life, what happens to me."

"Jacqui, I do care!" she protested, pushing me away with both hands so she could see my face. "Listen to me, this is very important. Sit down." She led me back to my seat and set me on it, very deliberately. I pulled my legs back under me and crossed my ankles without even thinking about it. Then she turned around and walked to the middle of the room with her head down, like a lawyer getting ready to make her closing argument to the jury. For just a second, the afternoon light lit up her curly hair into a glossy dark halo. Then she turned to me, stared into my eyes for a moment and began.

"Jacqui. I did not enter into this experiment to torment you and you know that. In fact, you’ve agreed to everything and, despite all your complaining, you have not asked to have your chastity belt removed."

Wait, I thought to myself, you told me that if I asked to have it removed, that would be the end of everything. I started to stand up to protest. Before I could get a word out, she stopped me.

"Just sit down and listen to me." Her expression was hard, so I sat. "I told you why you are locked up," she spat out, "It’s to see if you really are Jacqui." She had softened and by the time she said the word ‘Jacqui’, it came out like a warm caress. She went on in that tone. "If you are a transsexual, as I now believe, then living like a woman should mean a lot more to you than simply indulging in a selfish sexual fetish. That’s why you are wearing a chastity belt. It was to give you time to explore your femininity without interference from your dick." She nodded down between my legs.

She was right, I couldn’t really object, and she looked so intense now, that I would have been scared to even if I wanted to. "And just because I’m trying to discover if I can like sex with someone other than John, doesn’t mean I don’t care for you, Jacqui. You have been my whole life for nearly ten years now. I care for you deeply and you were on the verge of destroying yourself, my business and our relationship. I had to do something." She gave me the most pleading look. I had to believe her.

"This whole thing isn’t easy for me either you know? I’ve had to watch my husband blossom as a woman. I don’t know whether to be happy or sad that it’s happening. And … on top of everything else, I’m running the company by myself now. Things are very stressful for me - I can handle that, but I’m confused about what’s going on here and don’t always make the right decisions. I need some relief too."

She plopped down onto her chair and we sat there, across from each other, silent. I didn’t know what to say. She was right about the most important things. I now thought of myself as Jacqui and when I thought of John, he was only in the past. Carla was losing her husband. If that was true, did I have any right to object to her getting sex where she could?

"How about a little treat for you?" she offered.

"Why don't you get yourself together and be dressed all pretty for me by six. We'll go out for dinner, just the two of us, and anything else you'd like to do tonight."

Despite the sorry mood I was in, I had managed to stop crying. My tears would do me no good and neither would declining her offer to go out. I could stay in the maids’ quarters and sulk, or I could divert my attention with something better. I'd had a good time the evening before, even though I hadn’t expected to, and I’d make the best of this one too. I started to get ready to go out.

During one of my breaks, I'd re-sewn my cheongsam to again form fit my torso by hand. That’s what I had on when I went down to the kitchen. Carla arrived just a few moments later and looked me over. "That's my girl. Lookin' good Jacqui," she smiled at me warmly.

"Ready?"

She drove and I sat next to her in front.

When I declined a drink before dinner, she questioned me about it.

"Jacqui, it's OK, you've my permission," she offered.

"No thank you, mum. I do not drink now and doubt I will in the future. I feel better without it. I really don't want any alcohol." She smiled.

"You really have changed, Jacqui. That’s wonderful. At least we achieved one of our goals." I just nodded, but did realized I was very happy about that and started to feel some gratitude to Carla. I really hadn’t realized what bad shape I had been in until I could look back at it.

She went on, "Earlier, you said the one thing that bothered you the most was being recognized." That wasn't quite what I said, but she obviously wasn't going to discuss my steel panties. "What would you think of changing your face a little?

"Such as, mum?"

"Make you look a little more Chinese around your eyes and perhaps give you a smaller chin. It wouldn't be anything major, you understand, but it should help keep others from being suspicious about who you remind them of." It was an interesting suggestion, but also a frightening one.

"But what would I do when I'm John again? Those things are rather permanent." I said dryly, pointing out the obvious to her. The truth was, however, I had begun to believe that I would never see that day and wouldn't want to.

"I don't think I'd want any surgery for you that was too drastic. Without makeup, you could still pass as a man," she argued.

I started to roll my eyes at her bullshit, but then all of a sudden I realized what she had said, 'Pass as a man!' I almost shouted. "Carla, dear," I said, trying to contain my sarcasm just a little, "don’t try to sell me on something you want me to do by trying to pretend I want it too. I haven’t gotten stupid just because I’m now your maid and asked you to imprison me in the fucking chastity belt that is now digging into my thighs."

She looked a little shame-faced, so I took the opening, "Oh, had you forgotten about that little thing? How curious?" By now, there was no hiding my contempt and my words dripped with sarcasm. I went on before she could interrupt.

"You and I both know that if I have surgery, it will mark the end of John. Are you so eager to have that happen that you’d try to mislead me just to get me to agree, like you did with the chastity belt?" Despite our earlier conversation, I just couldn’t let go of my anger over the belt.

This time, she jumped in when I paused, "Oh, Jacqui, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to trick you, I was just trying to find a way to make all this easier for you. I know how fast things have changed and how terribly difficult all this must be for you." She looked at me with real compassion on her face and I began to soften. Did I really believe she was trying to trick me? I just didn’t know and shook my head in regret.

I didn’t have anything to say though, so she went on after making sure she wasn’t cutting me off. "But I must say yet again, Jacqui. I did not trick you into wearing that chastity belt and, however much you must hate it, you can’t blame me because you have it on.

I snapped right back at her, "That’s only half true, Carla, and you know it." I took a big, well as big as I could, breath to calm myself. I didn’t want to attack her. I went on more softly, my voice was tinged with regret.

"You set the situation up so I couldn’t refuse putting it on in the first place and then I was compelled to keep it on or leave. Whatever your reasons, however justifiable they might be, don’t you ever imagine, for even a moment, that I want to be in this thing. I'm sure I could have learned whether I am Jacqui without the belt. It would have been a different path, that's all." I had a very sour look on my face, but I was caved in onto myself, with my head down, my shoulders hunched and my hands folded carefully in my lap. I felt very small and frail.

She looked at me with her lips pursed, her head cocked and her dark curls cascading down one shoulder. Then she flicked her head to throw her hair behind her and with blinding insight said, "You’re Jacqui aren’t you? John’s just a memory… isn’t he? I know it’s a big step, but maybe now is the time to take it. Or… I’m not sure, maybe you did already; have you?"

I shook my head no, but without any conviction. She had looked into my heart and somehow seen it all. I felt I had no alternative, but to follow her. "I’m scared," I whispered. "I’m scared to be Jacqui, but I’m scared to be John again too. I don’t know who either one of them is." I still hadn't looked up.

Carla reached out to me with her hands, holding them in front of me until I took mine from my lap and laid them in hers. My pearly-pink nails glistened palely in the light of the lone candle that illuminated our table. Before we could say anything else, the waiter came with our drinks. Carla had a glass of wine - I had a Virgin Mary. I giggled when I saw it.

"What?" Jacqui said when he had left. "What's funny?"

I finally looked her in the face and giggled again. "I'm laughing," I said, "because I remembered the night you took Melissa and me to dinner and ordered me a Shirley Temple. I was so furious."

Carla laughed along with me, and then said, "That seems so long ago, doesn't it?" I nodded my agreement. "But," she went on, "it was John who felt humiliated and got furious and you're not really John anymore."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "Having you order a Shirley Temple would embarrass me too!" Carla's eyes widened for a moment and then a small smile found its way onto her face. As we looked at each other, we both realized that I had admitted that I was Jacqui, even though I hadn't said it in so many words.

We talked throughout dinner and, before dessert, I was sure, in my heart of hearts, even though I had not said it, that I would be Jacqui from then on. The only question left then, although it was a big one, was just who this Jacqui would be. What kind of a girl was I?

After dinner, Carla raised the topic of surgery again. "So aside from your face, are there any other changes you’d like to see? She stared straight at my chest. I blushed beet red.

"Yes," I squeaked out, my voice showing my embarrassment as clearly as my face, "One thing I'd like, if I ever had surgery, would be to have my breasts fill a C cup."

She giggled, "Yes, they would be a little nicer at that size. The First Girl even asked if that could be possible someday. Apparently she likes playing 'with her toys'."

"Hers are already at least that big," I said, missing her point completely.

"Not hers, silly, yours." I couldn't help but giggle too. "You'd look more alike then too.

"Why don't you think about it, Jacqui?" She dropped the subject.

Despite the troubled conversation that began our meal, we had a relaxing time out together. I was feeling better disposed towards Carla by the time we left the restaurant. I wasn’t upset at all when the topic of changing my appearance came up again.

"Next time you see your boyfriend, why don't you sound him out about how he'd feel if you looked more like a China Doll? If he agrees, see if you can talk him into paying for it."

"Paying for it?" I asked. "Why would he possibly agree do that?" I couldn't think of any reason why Kurt should or would.

"Maybe you can threaten him with some blackmail too; suppose all of his employees knew he was dating a chick with a dick? Worse still, suppose his customers did? Try it and see.

"By the way, he wants you next Saturday and will pick you up about nine in the morning. He's taking you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, so dress accordingly."

"Just like that?" My immediate response was to be resentful. I hated having no say in any of this, but as soon as I started to tell her that, I realized how stupid it would sound. Kurt wanted to take me out; I wanted him to. What the hell was I bitching about? I was upset because he had not asked me, but arranged it instead with my boss. Oh hell, I thought, that was John’s problem, not mine. Jacqui may not have that much say in how she led her life, but she did have a date she had been hoping for. That was good! It also sounded very brave, I thought. I hoped I was up to it.

As I was settling down again, Carla delivered her own coup de grace, "Jacqui, you discuss it with your boyfriend, not me. I don't like being an intermediary between the two of you. I am your employer, not your mother." She giggled, "If it helps some, I don't consider your dates as your day off. You are still entitled to those."

"Thank you, mum."

Melissa came back mid Sunday morning. She'd gone to visit friends and finish closing her apartment in Philadelphia. As I helped unload her things and bring them to our quarters, I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't wearing her chastity belt under her light pink shorts.

"You gain your freedom from your belt?" I was a bit snide. I resented that she was free from it.

"My agreement with Ms. Martin is that I must be locked up here, with you. On my free time, it is my option to be belted or not, but I have to give a day's notice if I want it off, Jacqui. If it helps you any, this was the first time I had it off since you closed the lock. And, you get to do that again right now."

At least, she'd explained it and that really helped me to accept it. Once I had locked her sex away, Melissa offered to help me out of my corset so I could take a nice hot bath.

Nothing exciting happened during the following week. We did our chores and had our free time. I tended my gardens, finished embroidering our names on all of our uniforms and sewed, taking in the waists on all my older clothes.

Among the things that the First Girl had brought back from Philadelphia was her sewing machine. I was told that I could use it whenever I wanted to and my first priority was to alter my regular wardrobe so I again could wear my clothes again.

End of Part V

But isn't surgery a drastic step? It would mean the end of John. . .

"You're a maid, Jacqui. You will find your social life among similarly placed people.

_______________________________________________________________

Saturday, Melissa helped me dress in a white, silky blouse and my light green summer suit. She stopped me from putting on my low-heeled white pumps though.

"Pick either your white platforms or the lace-up heels that you wear with your day uniforms, Jacqui."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because a girl looks sexier in high heels and because I told you to."

Here we go again, I thought. I knew that any time the First Girl told me to do something while we were working, there was no point in arguing. Both she and 'Ms. Martin' made it clear that I was expected to do what I'd been told. Why was she intruding into my private time as well? Did she want to prevent me from having a comfortable day without heels? I just didn't get her sometimes.

The problem was, Melissa had promised to punish me if I disobeyed. So far, I'd avoided any punishments, I didn’t want to learn if she really would punish me, or how she might carry that punishment out. I didn't fight with myself over it, selecting my lace-up heels as the least objectionable alternative.

I greeted Kurt with a curtsey and small kiss on his cheek when he got out of his car.

"Good morning, Kurt."

"Hello, Jacqui. You look nice this morning."

Kurt had his cute little Audi, which I knew was a hot machine, and, as low as it was to the ground, I was glad my skirt was almost knee length and not any longer. Getting in gracefully was difficult enough without that encumbrance.

Kurt asked about my week while we drove towards Manhattan. He asked more about me in general, repeating some of the questions I'd already answered: what were my likes and dislikes in food, my tastes in clothes, the things I watched on TV, my hobbies, etc. and seemed to take an interest in everything I told him.

"I know a really great sushi bar near here," he said after he'd parked and we walked, hand in hand, up Fifth Avenue. "We might have lunch there before going to the Met?"

"I've never eaten raw fish and seaweed before, but I'm willing to give it a try. So many people seem to think it's great," I said trying to sound as enthusiastic as I could. Then I had an idea. "You will order for me, won't you Kurt," I bubbled, looking up and tilting my head flirtatiously. I even added a hopeful smile.

He looked at me a little dubiously at first, trying to see if I was putting him on, but when I managed to hold my hopeful smile, even adding a few bats of my eyelashes, he laughed, patted my derriere and said, "Yes little one, of course I will. Kurt will take care of you, do not worry."

Of course, I followed all of Kurt's suggestions and the food was really scrumptious. Those tiny slivers of fish didn't have that much flavor, but he told me to pay attention to the various textures and subtle nuances of these little delicacies and I had a great time. Once we had finished and were sipping hot green tea, I broached the subject of cosmetic surgery.

"Thinking about it and looking at you, I do think surgery could make you look exquisite, Jacqui. And, if you want to keep your secret, surgery would definitely do the trick, but isn't surgery a drastic step? It would mean the end of John, wouldn't it? Are you sure you're ready for that? After the conversation with Carla, I was almost certain that John was not what I really wanted in my life.

We continued to discuss my options as we left the restaurant and walked along Fifth Avenue. Kurt had taken my hand when we'd left the restaurant and although I never thought of pulling away, it still took me a few minutes to begin to enjoy it. Before I could, I had to convince myself that no one would figure out I was really a guy. When I told Kurt of my fears, he just laughed gently.

"Jacqui, my dear, sweet, Fraeulein," he said, as if talking to a six-year old, "no one will figure out anything unless you decide to pull your skirt up and pee against a tree."

This made me giggle and Kurt laughed along with me. After that, I grabbed his arm and put it around my shoulder. I was feeling very affectionate towards Kurt and wanted to be close to him.

As we walked on, eventually sitting on one of the many benches along 5th Avenue, I recounted my conversation with Carla, and how I felt about it all. The longer we talked, the more convinced I became that John was in my past and that Jacqui was not just my present, but my future. Although I still wasn't a hundred per cent confident about my decision, I felt good about it and certainly wanted to explore my options.

Kurt was clearly excited by the idea that I wanted to be Jacqui and immediately offered to help. "I've a good friend who is one of the best plastic surgeons in the city. Should we find out if he'll see you to discuss it?" he asked. I said 'yes', but never expected that he'd take out his cell phone and do it right then.

We never went to the museum that afternoon. Instead we walked the seven blocks to his friend, Doctor Abraham Tobias' building then up two flights of stairs to his office. Doctor Tobias greeted us at the door.

"Come in, come in, my good friend." They hugged and kissed in the European fashion.

"Toby, this is the girl I told you about over the phone.

"Jacqui, you know I don't even know your last name? Jacqui, this is Abraham Tobias." The man was short, five foot three, if he stretched, and he appeared to be about seventy.

We went into a room that was more like a photography studio than any doctor's office I'd ever been in before. There, Dr. Tobias photographed my head from all conceivable angles and, once he finished with that, he asked me to remove my jacket and blouse so he could, ‘shoot’ my breasts.

Kurt hadn't yet seen them, although he had played with them, so I was only a little embarrassed to have him watch me undress. After all the pictures had been taken, Dr. Tobias took some blood and then asked me to meet him in his office once I was dressed. Several minutes later, I knocked gently on the open door and walked into his office, curtseying reflexively when they both looked up. That ended the quiet conversation they'd been having.

"The monitor on the left is the original you, Jacqui " Doctor Tobias began. "On the right one I'll manipulate the image so you can decide what you might like."

We played with the computer for an hour before I settled on what I thought was just enough of a change to my eyes, mouth and cheeks. A few more simple clicks and my breasts looked perfect to me.

"How much will all of this cost doctor?" I asked. He didn't answer me, instead he glanced over to Kurt.

"Do not concern yourself, my little maid. Let this be my gift of beauty to the world." Was he serious? I don't know what a Manhattan plastic surgeon charges for the procedures we had discussed, but guessed that they were well over twenty-five thousand dollars, if not twice that or more! There went my blackmail hold on Kurt.

"Tell me, Toby," he said with a big smile, "are gifts of art tax deductible?" I giggled as they had a good laugh.

"Being as it is Saturday, Kurt, I'll have to wait until Monday to see when a bed and the OR will be available. I'll call you," the doctor said.

"How long will I have to stay in the hospital?" I asked.

"Two or three days, Jacqui." Doctor Tobias explained, "I like to perform surgery early in the morning then you will need to recover from the anesthesia. I'd like you to stay that night, at least, to assure that there are no complications."

Kurt took me shopping along Fifth Avenue, but I was so focused on the possibility of plastic surgery, being both thrilled and terrified, that my heart wasn't in it and I didn't find anything I wanted. I even tried on a few slinky cocktail dresses at a fabulous boutique, but Kurt too agreed they really weren't me when I modeled them for him. He did however, insist that I buy a pair of shoes that better matched my suit, so I ended up with an elegant pair of green pumps with only a three-inch heel. After all the time I'd spent in my heels, the lower heels alone would have made the ridiculously expensive price worth it.

"I know!" he exclaimed, once we were back on the street. "We will drive down to Chinatown, Jacqui. Perhaps we'll find something interesting in the shops there." We did. Despite being distracted, I fell in love with several cheongsams and three blouses, also in a Chinese style. Kurt insisted on buying all of them for me and convinced me to change into a jade green one that looked like it had been designed specifically for my shoes. All of the Chinese shopkeepers treated me like royalty, but it was in the restaurant he selected where all of the help acted as if I was the Empress of All China. With them behaving toward me in the manner they did, I really began to look forward to my new face.

I was actually rather disappointed when we arrived in my driveway; I would have preferred to spend more time with Kurt. The worst part was that his car was so small, I couldn't quite imagine how we would find a way to turn to kiss each other. But I did want to kiss him, first to say thank you, he had treated me today like I was the most important person he had ever met, but I wanted to see if I could do it, if I could enjoy it.

Throwing caution to the winds, I finally got up on my knees and leaned over the center console, essentially falling onto him, holding my arms around his neck while we kissed and fondled each other. This time I didn't hesitate at all to kiss him and I opened my mouth hungrily to let him in.

Even with that aggressive start on my part, John managed to break into my thoughts and it took me a little time to bury my fears and get rid of that annoying little fellow, who was obviously rather appalled by what he was involved in. As I concentrated on Kurt's lips, running my hands through his thick hair and twisting my tongue with his, John just disappeared. I didn't notice when it happened, but only realized he had left when we came up for air at one point.

Somehow, I had ended up in Kurt's lap, squashed between him and the steering wheel, my back against the driver-side door. As I lay there in Kurt's strong arms, catching my breath and just feeling dreamy, I all of a sudden realized that John was no where to be found. There was just me, Jacqui, kissing a man who I happened to adore, although for the life of me, I couldn't figure out where that feeling was coming from. I had never felt like that towards anyone before.

When he let me in the door, about thirty minutes after we had pulled into the driveway, and just before we became paralyzed by the awkward postures we had been forced to endure, I was more convinced than ever that I was Jacqui. So just before he shut the door, I said to him, "Bring a bigger car next time." Somehow, without even thinking about it, I winked! Kurt laughed, obviously tickled by my flirtatious behavior, while I stood there with my hand over my mouth, surprised as hell.

*****

"Jacqui, it's for you," Melissa called after answering the phone a few weeks after our date. She covered the mouthpiece before handing it to me. "It's your boyfriend."

Boyfriend indeed! Kurt and I had seen each other several more times over the last couple of weeks and I enjoyed each date more than the last. It wasn't just that I had gotten to get out of the house, or that I had my own man, which I know really annoyed Carla, but I had grown increasingly fond of Kurt. In fact, it was fair to say that I had a crush on him; a very serious case of infatuation, at least. I was surprised to see I could feel such emotions. I almost ran to get the phone from Melissa.

"Hello, Kurt. How are you this morning?" I said in my most flirty way.

"Ach, I have most unpleasant news of my uncle, Jacqui. So much is happening too fast. I must go to Germany; he is dying."

I was horrified; Kurt was going away? I couldn't say that. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about your uncle, Kurt. When are you going?" Will I get to see you before you leave?" I hoped that wasn't too forward, but I couldn't stop myself from saying it.

"Ach, I'm sorry, liebling, I must leave today."

I selfishly thought of our date on Friday, but I at least managed not to mention this to him.

"Toby called," he said, "Doctor Tobias. His surgery for tomorrow was canceled. Pack a small bag and Henry will take you to the hospital. Be ready at three o'clock."

"But..." Kurt interrupted me.

"I have already discussed the matter with Carla. You are to go to the hospital and even though there will only be a few minor modifications to your face, you will be a very pretty China Doll indeed when I return."

"When will that be, Kurt?"

"I do not know. I will telephone you. I'm in a terrible hurry. I must leave now or I will miss my departure. Good-bye, Jacqui. I will miss you terribly."

"I'll miss you too, Kurt."

"Bye, bye Fraeulein Jacqui. When I see you next, you will be gorgeous." Kurt hung up before I could say anything more.

"What's the matter?" Melissa asked when I replaced the phone. I explained it to her and started to go to our quarters.

"You don't seem very happy. I thought you wanted the face change so no one recognized you again?"

"I do," I confirmed. "Kurt promised to talk with Ca… umm, Ms. Martin and get the key so I didn't have to be embarrassed by the nurses seeing that I'm wearing this damn steel belt. He promised to be there too! I said resentfully. "And what am I going to do about my corset?" Melissa had no better solutions to these problems than I did.

After packing a bag for the few days I'd be in the hospital, I resumed my chores to help divert my attention and not think about what was going to happen.

I'd changed into a white cheongsam and seeing the Rolls pull up by the garage, I went to Melissa to tell her I was leaving.

"Everything will be just fine. I'm sure," she said, giving me a lingering kiss on the lips. Since I had started seeing Kurt, we hadn't been spending as much time in bed together as in the past. "I'm sure you will come out gorgeous. I'll probably be jealous." She gave me a very endearing smile.

"I wish I felt the same," I replied. "I wish Carla was here." I was scared and dispirited. I couldn't believe no one would be with me at the hospital. I started to get butterflies in my stomach, but I managed a wan smile. "I guess I'll see you in a couple of days. I'll call if that changes, Melissa." We hugged and kissed goodbye.

"Hello, Henry." I curtseyed as artfully as I could to his bow, tilting my head a little and smiling up at him flirtatiously. "Oh! You brought the Rolls, you are a sweetheart." I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. I had become rather fond of Henry over the last few weeks. He was a perfect gentleman and genuinely seemed to like me, perhaps because I had brought some joy back into Kurt's life. I didn't know what he knew about my sexuality.

"Good afternoon, Jacqui." He took my small bag with a slight blush then opened the back door for me with a flourish, flashing me a big smile in return for my kiss. I was seated in back of the large Rolls. It would have been much nicer to sit in front with Henry just to have someone to talk to during the ride, but that wasn't an option because this antique didn't even have another seat up front, just a space for baggage that wouldn't fit in the ‘boot’.

At least Henry came inside the hospital with me and carried my bag. He stayed with me until I was in the private room Kurt had reserved for my stay. Knowing I wouldn't have to deal with a roommate brightened my mood considerably.

"Will there be anything else I can do for you, Jacqui?" I wrinkled my lip before daring to ask. I needed help from someone and at least Henry wasn't a complete stranger.

"Would it be too much to ask you to loosen my corset it so I'll be able to take it off prior to my operation, please?"

"No, not at all." Henry had the aplomb of a classic English butler. "If you like, I'll take it off entirely."

"Oh, no thank you Henry, I prefer to wear it."

He gave me a quizzical look, so I said, "Really, I do. At first, I hated it, then I liked the way it made me look, and then I started to find its feel comforting. Now, I'm afraid I'd collapse like a jelly fish if I took it off entirely," I giggled.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, but his calm expression didn't change, not even when my breasts and chastity belt were exposed after he'd opened the frogs down the right side of my dress. I stood still, while he undid the knots then started to loosen the laces.

"Let them out about two inches, please? Try to keep an even gap from top to bottom," I asked. With the corset that loose, I'd be able to remove it easily the next morning.

"Thank you, Henry. I greatly appreciate your help."

"It was my pleasure to assist. Will there be anything else?"

"No, I can manage. Thank you." I curtseyed.

"I shall see you tomorrow then." He bowed.

"Tomorrow?" I didn't understand.

"Mr. Mark has requested that I assure that all is satisfactory and to see to any of your needs during your stay here."

That was a pleasant surprise. I gave him my biggest smile.

"This is my cell phone number. Please call at any time if there is anything you wish, Jacqui." I took the card from him. I'd never before encountered a driver who had a business card. "I will be nearby," he said as I examined it. Once I looked back at him, Henry bowed to me and left the room.

It was so thoughtful of Kurt to do that for me. Despite the way he had forced me to date him originally, he really was a dear man and had never once taken advantage of me or acted in any way that would lead me to think he wasn't a perfect gentleman. I giggled to myself as I realized he was every T-girl's dream date: handsome, well-mannered and commandingly male. He filled the role of a man so perfectly, it was impossible not to be a woman with him.

I flushed slightly when I realized that he didn't actually make me feel like a woman. He made me feel like a schoolgirl with her first ever crush. Being with Kurt was feminizing me faster than anything Carla had even dreamed of. If she had understood his power, she probably would have thrown me at him the first day I had become her maid.

Yes, with Kurt I was a girl. I didn't just look like one, I was one, responding to his male strength with female acquiescence. It was more than just that though. Kurt allowed me to have the power of a woman, the kind that doesn't depend on physical strength or overt demonstrations of macho confidence. Kurt responded to my affection and my silly flirting and my needs as if I were a valuable person and not just a possession or ornament. I just loved the way it made me feel. I loved the way he made me feel, and I loved him for making me feel that way.

I could only laugh at myself and shake my head ruefully as I recalled my previous fear of dating men. The very thought of it had repulsed me, and I had been just positive that it would be horrible. Now I knew I'd been totally wrong. Dating Kurt was fun, and I had really come to enjoy the intimacies we shared. Being kissed and caressed by Kurt excited me, and I just adored being held in his strong arms as I snuggled up against his broad chest. Did this make me gay? Had that been why I was so homophobic, because I knew that all along? Or, was I just behaving like a normal girl?

I was watching the news after supper when Doctor Tobias came in.

"How are you feeling, Jacqui?" he asked.

"Nervous, but otherwise I'm just fine."

"Please open your nightshirt for me and lie on your back," Doctor Tobias asked.

He frowned with disapproval when he saw my chastity belt. I don't think he liked the corset either.

"I won't be wearing my corset in the morning," I offered, to ease what I imagined was his concern.

"I would have insisted," he replied, smiling, while his soft hands examined my breasts in detail before wandering all over my face, exploring every millimeter with great care. Once he had finished his examination, he explained what I should expect when I awoke.

"Your breasts will be sore and probably feel hot. Your face will be very sore and probably itch terribly. Of course, there will be dressings covering the incisions and your head will be tightly bandaged for the first couple of days to minimize the swelling, Jacqui. I want you to avoid scratching or rubbing. If you can't do that, I'm afraid you'll have to be restrained to keep you from hurting yourself.

As I’ll be altering your eyes, the bandages are going to cover them too. You won't be able to see until it's safe to remove those bandages.

"We will change your dressings as needed, and then once more before you leave. I want them to stay on until I see you in my office a week from Monday. When they are removed," he smiled, "you'll think that I am not Doctor Tobias, but that my name is really Dr. Frankenstein.

"There will be much bruising and many hematomas and you are going to look awful. It will be several weeks before you see how really beautiful you are, Jacqui."

"Pretty bad, huh?" I joked and forced a smile.

"Yes," he honestly admitted.

"Now I want you to sleep. I'll have the nurse give you something." He closed my nightie and I started to button it.

"Use the toilet and be in bed when she comes.

"I'll see you tomorrow right before we start." He moved to the door, smiled at me and left.

Whatever the little pill was the nurse gave me, it was fast and effective. Early in the morning, I was awakened by another nurse.

"Please get undressed and put this on, honey." There was no warmth in her demeanor. She was all business. "I'll be back in five minutes and do not drink anything, not even a sip of water.

"Swallow this, it's an antibiotic," she offered me a small pill and a tiny amount of water. "Hop up here, hon," she said, slapping the top of the gurney that two sleepy looking men pushed into my room. As I climbed on, the sheet covering me slipped. There was no hiding my chastity belt.

They didn't attempt to conceal their amusement over my predicament. "Well, look at you," one laughed. "Your man lock that on you?"

"Keep her from fuckin' around," offered the other. "He sure knows how to keep her under control." The nurse shushed them instantly and I scrambled up on the stretcher, where she hurriedly covered me with a sheet. Still, I felt embarrassed all the way into the operating room.

No one had warned me how very cold I'd be and how terribly dry my mouth would feel as I gradually awoke. I also hadn't been told that there would be a tube down my throat and that I'd have one up each nostril as well. I sensed that I still had an IV in my arm.

I was very sore, I burned and I itched something awfully. It took all of my will power not to rub my breasts and face.

"Good, you're awake," the nurse said. "No, don't even try to speak. Everything went well. Your doctor is very pleased. Unable to see, I hadn't realized that anyone was nearby.

A while later, I don't really know how long, she said, "Want to go to your room?" Not even waiting for an answer, she wheeled me back and along with another nurse helped me into bed.

Thankfully, the injection the nurse gave me as soon as I was settled made me sleep and I awoke only the following morning, I guessed. At least I was no longer cold, but was still extremely thirsty and sore. Fighting not to scratch, I just lay still and tried to think of happy thoughts.

Doctor Tobias finally came in several hours later.

"Feeling OK, Jacqui?" He greeted me warmly, but what a stupid question! I shook my head 'no!'

"Well, perhaps I can make you more comfortable. We will change some of your bandages and have a look at how things are going." I nodded my understanding. There were burning sensations emanating throughout my breasts even though they remained covered by supporting bandages. I already knew the actual incisions were in my armpits and Dr. Tobias examined them gingerly.

"So far, so good, Jacqui." He then carefully undid a few of the bandages covering my head and face.

"I'm going to give you a mild muscle relaxant to reduce your gag reflex." A small syringe pricked my neck. "Give that a couple of minutes, Jacqui, then I'll remove the tubes.

"This is very important. You are not to even try to talk for at least the next ten days so that you can heal properly." What? Why not? He answered my unspoken questions. "We performed the Crico-Thyroid Approximation or CTA you requested.

CTA? What was he talking about? I knew it is one of the more common 'voice surgeries', but I sure as hell hadn't requested it.

"It will raise your voice to a higher register. Just how high varies widely among those who have had it done." I shocked with disbelief. I hadn't even discussed it with anyone. What else had been done while I was on the table? A knot formed in my stomach and a chill ran up my spine as I became fearful of what might have happened.

"Hold still and hold your breath for a moment."

I frantically motioned that I wanted something to write with. Once he'd placed a pen and small pad in my hands, I scribbled a question, even though I couldn't see what I was writing. 'Why did you change my voice?' I wrote. He read it.

"I know you and I didn't discuss it, Jacqui, but I have the signed forms right here in your chart."

I just shook my head; had no recollection of ever having signed any form.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm sure you're confused because of all the medications. Besides, you're going to love the outcome." He patted my head and left. I spent the rest of the day dozing and trying not to scratch myself.

Dr. Tobias again checked on me the next morning and told me things were going really well. I just lay in bed, trying not to be too scared.

When I awoke from my nap the following afternoon, I was startled to hear Melissa's voice in my room.

"Ready to go?" she asked, as soon as she saw I was awake. "Dr. Frankenstein said you may leave."

It didn't really matter what I thought, because Melissa had already organized everything and had me out of that hospital before I knew what had hit me. Once we were in the car, she placed some pills in my mouth and pressed a cup to my lips. "Here, take these. They'll make the ride more comfortable."

I was scared to death when I woke up in another hospital room, my groin a mass of pain. This time I was restrained, but there was a button next to my hand and I pushed it immediately. Thankfully, the bandages, which had blindfolded me, had been removed and I could see again. A smiling nurse showed up a few moments later and said, "Oh hi, sugar, you're awake. Good, now I can untie you."

I had a million questions, but had to wait for her to finish all her ministrations before I could get a pad to write with. 'Where am I? What happened? Why does my groin hurt?' I wrote.

"They told me you'd be confused," she said, "But don't worry; you're in the Sisters of Tiresias clinic and you have just gotten the most beautiful new pussy." She just beamed at me like she was sharing a great joy.

"What?" I squeaked out, despite the pain in my throat.

"Don't talk, sugar," she ordered, becoming alarmed. "Once all the meds wear off, you'll remember everything, I'm sure, and just be thrilled." She fumbled by the bedside and handed me a button.

"Here," she said, "this is for pain. Just press it like this every time you start to hurt." She gave it two presses and, a few moments, later I started to feel much more relaxed. I was still confused, but it didn't seem so important somehow.

Still, my mind was in turmoil. This had to be a bad dream. I couldn't have had SRS! I had never wanted it. I never asked for it! Hell, I had never even discussed it with anyone. What was going on here? I had gone into the hospital to have a few minor cosmetic changes and now it seemed my entire life had been turned upside down, or, I thought in a brief moment of clarity, inside out. It was like someone else was in control, only I didn't know who. I didn't want to think about it anymore. I pressed the button a half dozen times. Before too long, I fell into a fitful sleep.

The next few days were just horrible. I was in a lot of pain. It seemed to be everywhere, but the worst was in my throat and groin. The nurses and doctors seemed hell bent on making it still worse by constantly examining me and probing my new vagina and changing whatever it had been stuffed in it. The feeling of having someone's fingers inside me was completely bizarre and totally unwelcome, even as the pain started to diminish. The worst part was when they put what they called a stent in my new vagina to keep it open. When they told me I would be doing this every day for a long time to come, I burst into tears.

"Don't worry, honey," the nurse said, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It won't always hurt like this. The pain will be gone in a week or two, and then you'll probably really enjoy it. And once a man gets a nice hard penis in there, you'll really love the whole thing."

I must've looked at her as if I was about to me executed because she got a very concerned look on her face. She went to the phone and called the doctor.

"I don't know what's going on here, Dr. Byers. She acts like this is the worst thing that ever happened to her. I've never seen anyone respond so badly before. I'm sure it's making the pain worse and slowing her healing."

She listened for a while then said, "Okay, but I'm still worried. We haven't been able to get her out of bed yet." After another pause, she said, "Yes, I will.

"Honey, I don't know why you're so upset, unless it's just the pain, but we have to get you out of bed, maybe a shower will cheer you up."

With the help of another nurse, she dragged me out of bed and into the shower. Thank goodness, I was able to sit. Although the lack of anything hanging down between my legs was most unsettling, the warm water did feel wonderful and it was great to wash my hair, but my face and what now felt like gigantic breasts were still very sore. The entrance to the gaping hole between my legs was, red, swollen and angry looking. Despite how it looked and felt, they made me wash it out with some kind of antiseptic cleanser. Washing, I noticed that I'd no sutures in my flesh. I hadn't even noticed when they had been removed.

Each day brought new insults and humiliations. First, a nurse pulled the catheter from my bladder and I had to pee through the new hole near my vagina. It hurt like hell and felt completely strange because the urine no longer flowed through the length of penis, but exited instead well before it got there. I knew there would be some relearning to do if I was to keep from peeing in my panties. Not only that, but my bladder seemed to have shrunk and I had to go often. When I complained about how often I had to pee, the nurse told me to get rid of my IV, although that meant getting rid of my friend the button as well. The IV had to drip constantly to allow the morphine to run into my vein when I pressed the button. That's why I had to pee so often. I decided that I wasn't ready to give up my drug, so I shook my head no.

Next, they insisted I start moving my bowels and started me off with an enema. I discovered that even the smallest amount of squeezing caused lots of pain in my groin and I sat on the toilet groaning as my bowels evacuated.

"That will become a lot easier dear," the nurse said, "if you give up the morphine. It makes you constipated."

During my stay, hygiene was continually stressed, especially whenever I used the toilet. No longer would I be able to get by with a quick wipe, but I had to wash with antiseptic soap and be sure to pat myself completely dry.

I was constantly aware that I no longer had a penis or testicles. Had I forgotten I would have been quickly reminded because I had to wash my vagina and use the stent to dilate myself four times a day. Then I had to douche with an antiseptic to completely wash out all traces of the lubricant I'd used. Unless I wanted to learn about what happened in an emergency room by ending up there with a bad infection, there was simply no way I could avoid dealing with my new pussy. The threat of severe infection was beat into me at every opportunity, which left me confused and depressed.

I spent the rest of my time mostly crying and pressing the button. I was too stunned to understand what had happened and all I wanted was to not think about it. I dreamed of my penis and of having it cut off. I awoke from my bizarre dreams in a panic several times a night, reaching immediately for my button to put myself out again.

The hospital staff was confused by my strange behavior. Most of the girls who came in for surgery were absolutely delighted with the outcome, were quite cheerful and did everything they could to hasten their own recovery. Occasionally, some would react badly to surgery, but that would clear up after a few days at most, and they would always leave delighted to finally be ‘fully a woman'.

I was the first in their experience who didn't come out of it, instead remaining depressed and sullen. They didn't seem all that put out by this and simply treated me as if I was some kind of mentally defective child, who needed to be pushed along on a journey she had no control over anyway.

On the fourth or fifth day, I'm not really sure which, Carla showed up. I awoke to see her sitting in a chair by the end of the bed, looking at me with a strange expression on her face.

"What happened to me?" I squeaked out.

"Don't talk!" she ordered. "You could hurt your throat and never be able to talk again."

I looked at her with pleading eyes. Tears started to run from the corners, yet again. After a few moments, she got up and closed the door. She settled herself carefully back in her seat and pulled out a folder full of papers.

"There's no point beating around the bush, Jacqui. John's gone. Very soon, we'll be divorced and I'll own the company. Given the way you're behaving, I'll soon be able to have you declared mentally incompetent then you won't have any possibility of earning a living except as my maid. Welcome to your new life," she said with a satisfied sneer. "The sooner you accept it, the better off you'll be."

I was dumbstruck. Wasn't this my wife, Carla, sitting across from me? Didn't she love me? How could she do this? She wouldn't! She couldn't! As my mind whirled around in chaos, I started to get nauseous. I only barely managed not to throw up. I pressed the button, again and again. I started to feel more relaxed, but I was still very confused.

"I'd like to see your pussy," Carla said suddenly, bringing me back to the real world. "It cost me a lot of money you know."

She approached the bed and pulled my sheet back, but I was having none of it and started to struggle with her. She quickly called the nurse and they held me down then gave me a shot of something that put me out.

When I awoke, I was restrained. I panicked. I couldn't tell if the scene with Carla had been real or not and my thoughts were muddled and cloudy. I pushed the nurse's call button. The nurse who came into the room frowned at me. I looked up at her, pleading with my eyes to have my hands untied. She obviously understood, but shook her head no.

"I'm sorry, dearie, doctor's orders. Ms. Martin was very upset when you attacked her, especially after she's been so supportive of your needs over the past few years of your transition. All of you transsexuals are so damned self-centered. It's always me, me, me! Well, she gave you what you wanted, she even paid for it, and you turn on her? We'll have to treat you as the selfish bitch you obviously are until you learn some manners. You'll stay restrained until you learn to behave."

I thrashed around, trying to get free. I wanted to shout, but was afraid to use my voice. Every time I had, it had hurt and was so high and squeaky, that I was afraid to say anything else lest it stay that way. I didn't know what was happening to me and I was scared and panicky.

"I warned you," the nurse said and she produced a syringe and injected something into my IV. It calmed me down, very quickly, but it made me feel awful and I couldn't think straight. I had no choice, but to lie there, doped up and confused.

This went on for three or four more days. Every time I woke up, I started to freak out. Now, I couldn't stop myself from calling out, but my voice was ridiculous; I sounded like Minnie Mouse. I was scared, angry, and inconsolable. As a result, I was restrained all the time and almost constantly sedated. My care was forced on me. People worked on my face and inside my groin, cleaning things, dilating and douching me, jobs I should have been doing myself.

In the meantime, my face was healing and my breasts were becoming less and less sore. It turned out that I had been asleep for several days after I had been castrated, that's the only way I could think of it. During that time, Dr. Tobias had come by to remove most of the stitches during one of the periods I was out of it. I didn't know or care. I was literally hysterical, so distraught, I couldn't control myself, and so drugged up, I couldn't think straight.

Finally, they brought in a psychiatrist. He was very calming and reassuring. After spending a lot of time with me over the course of several days, he told me that if I could stay calm, he would stop the sedatives and get me untied. I agreed and the next day the leather restraints were removed and my mind was as clear as it had been since I first awoke after my plastic surgery.

I was finally allowed to speak; it had been over two weeks since Dr. Tobias had operated on me, and twelve days since I had been castrated. I was utterly appalled by my voice. I still sounded high and squeaky, like a ridiculous little girl who had inhaled helium. I just had to talk with the psychiatrist to find out what had happened.

I was very nearly inconsolable as I told him that I had never wanted to become a woman, never done a real life test and never agreed to voice surgery or the SRS. He shook his head sadly.

"You know Jacqui, people sometimes freak out in hospitals. They become psychotic after awakening from surgery. You obviously wanted all these things because it's all written down and everyone I've talked to tells me how desperate you were to get it done. Now it's my job to get you re-anchored in reality so you can get on with your life. Here look at this."

He handed me the folder Carla had with her when I had seen her all those many days ago. "Read through this Jacqui and try to remember. I'll see you tomorrow."

The folder held the story of my betrayal. It began with the true records of my adolescent years, when my parents had put me into therapy to stop my constant cross-dressing. Those records detailed my belief that I was really a girl in a boy's body and contained my admission that I had put myself on hormones to grow breasts. How had Carla gotten them? Even my parents never learned all this.

What followed was really chilling though. My files continued with a comprehensive record of many more years of therapy that had never existed. My new therapist's notes contained my eventual decision to change genders and the ups and downs (but mostly ups), of my real life test, during which I lived full time to prepare for my final transition. I was stunned to see affidavits apparently from Toni Bauer, my former secretary, attesting to three trips we made together, during which I had lived as a woman. During our last trip, three weeks skiing in Colorado, she reported that I had hooked up with a man and spent almost every night with him, coming back 'bleary-eyed, glowing, and cooing over his prowess in bed'. Toni also noted that I had become increasingly passive as time went on and eventually had turned over to her all responsibility for everything we did.

There were even records of many dozens of therapy sessions that Carla and I had attended together as we attempted to work out a new relationship while I went through my transition. These discussed in detail my submissive nature, why I believed I needed to be in a protected environment, perhaps as a housewife, and how crucial it was for me to avoid situations that would force me to make complex decisions or give orders to other people. I even claimed to have deep-seated sexual fantasies about being a secretary or maid. According to this set of notes, I begged Carla to take care of me.

We also explored my obsession with Asian women and why I craved looking like one. Part of my obsession, according to these notes, was to reclaim my lost heritage and part was to make visual my intensely submissive nature. According to these made-up records, Carla at first resisted all these changes, but, because of her deep love for me, she eventually agreed to keep me as her stay-at-home, wife, and eventually she acquiesced to having me live in her house as her Chinese maid. I was so grateful, I promised her my "everlasting devotion". This was obscene. Carla was out of her mind.

Worst of all, were the forms that signed my share of the business over to Carla and the three-year contract we'd signed for my services as a maid in her house. These had been prepared by my good, 'friend' and attorney, Jeff Parker. He did at least leave me with my current assets, although they had been placed in a trust that wouldn't be available to me until I was fifty.

All the appropriate signed permission forms for surgery were there as well, countersigned by all my therapists and doctors and witnessed by their nurses.

When I finished reading, I curled up into the fetal position and wept. I felt totally hopeless. I had been trapped into a life that wasn't mine, and I had no way to prove that I hadn't been involved in any of this, at least while I was still in the hospital and under Carla's control.

When the psychiatrist returned the next day, I had no fight left in me. Plus, I had realized that my only hope of regaining any of my life was to start behaving the way people expected me to. The very first thing I had to do was get out of the hospital. When he asked me how I was doing, I said, "Much better, thanks. Things seem so much clearer now."

"I'm glad," he said, with real warmth in his voice. "You're a simply beautiful young woman and I would hate to see you hospitalized in a psychiatric ward because you can't remember who you are and what you wanted. You've just gotten your fondest wish and should be full of joy. Or at least you should be full of joy once the pain goes away." He gave me a rather endearing grin.

We chatted for a while about my health needs and when he was satisfied, that I actually was stable, he patted me on the arm, removed the restraints, which were still hanging from my bed, threw them in the garbage, and said, "We won't need these anymore, I'm sure. I can also tell you for sure that the staff will be so relieved that your recovery is back on track. Everyone had been worried sick about you." With that, he left the room.

I cried again, this time because I was so grateful to everyone for taking such good care of me despite my horrible behavior. I vowed to do everything I could to heal quickly. I really wanted to repay their kindness and that was the best way I could think of to do that.

Not long after, a nurse came in and asked, "Are you ready to learn how to take care of yourself, Jacqui?" I simply nodded and paid close attention as she showed me what I had to do. One thing I was sure of, if I had to live as a woman, I was going to take proper care of my body. With the help of the nurse, I examined my new self for the first time and she showed me how to clean myself and dilate my new vagina.

After she left, I curled up in the bed and cried silently until I fell asleep. I didn't recognize myself. I no longer knew who I was.

When I awoke, I spent the rest of the day studying the documents the psychiatrist had given me, trying to understand how they had been created and how my signature had gotten on them. I was completely confused. The only thing that made sense was that Carla had forged everything, but it was beyond me how she had gotten so many people involved in her plot.

Dr. Tobias visited the next day and pronounced himself very pleased with his work. The swelling in my face was now mostly gone and even though I still had the remnants of two big black eyes, it was easy to see that I had a gorgeous, though thoroughly oriental face.

My lips were much fuller and the corners of my mouth had been brought closer together. My lips now hung in an absolutely disarming pout. It was easy enough to close my lips to make it disappear, but when I stopped willing them closed, they sprang apart again. On top of everything else, I would now look innocently sexy whether I wanted to or not.

My nose seemed flatter and turned up at its end so my nostrils were somewhat exposed. Below my now slanted, almond-shaped eyes, with the stereotypical epicanthic folds on their lids, my cheeks were higher. I certainly didn't see any trace of John in this face, nor much of a resemblance to the former Jacqui. Not only had my sex just been changed, but my race had changed as well!

As Dr. Tobias gently explored my breasts, I asked him when the swelling would go down.

"Go down?" he asked, surprised at my question. "Oh no, my dear, this isn't swelling, these beautiful breasts are all yours and will still get somewhat larger as your hormone therapy is accelerated. You will be a very ample D-cup before you are done. Quite spectacular, I would say. Do you see how they curve gently as they sweep down from your shoulders before bulging out slightly at the bottom, with just a touch of sag? My dear, these are exquisitely beautiful breasts and no one will ever be able to tell they aren't all you." He helped me to lie back then said, "See how they flatten naturally when you lie down? My dear, I am a genius at placing implants and you got some of my best work."

He was beaming as he said this, obviously very pleased with himself. As I considered what he said, I actually started to feel a little proud of myself, a welcome change from all the feelings shame that had overwhelmed me since I first awoke from surgery.

As I sat back up and hefted my breasts reconsidering them in the light of Dr. Tobias' description, I realized that he was right. These breasts didn't stand straight out from my chest, like the pasted-on half-oranges and grapefruits you see after so many implant surgeries. Even though they were much bigger than anything I had ever anticipated, or seen up close for that matter, they were indeed attractive. They were of Playmate quality, at least, I decided. Right then, I realized that real girls don't get to select their breast size and neither had I. I had carried the small breasts of an adolescent with me for nearly a decade. Now, I had the gorgeous tits of a full-grown adult woman.

"But, you'll have to be careful," he went on, interrupting the most pleasant thoughts I'd had since my surgery. "If you don't want them to get even bigger, you can't gain any weight. You'll deposit fat in your breasts very easily."

"And my voice?" I squeaked out. I was embarrassed by the sound I made, but so shocked by what I had just learned about my breasts, that I couldn't care how I sounded. "Will that get higher too?"

"Oh no, Jacqui, we'll have to see where it ends up. It's very hard to tell with this kind of surgery, but I'm sure that with time and some practice you can bring it down quite a bit. The vocal chords are always tightest right after surgery. I guess your current sound isn't ideal, but it does go well with your look."

"One thing though," he said, his eyes sparkling as he turned to me, "I don't think you'll be able to scare anybody. You just look too adorable and sound too cute." He chuckled again, lightly patting my cheek. I frowned, but I couldn't not like him. It seemed obvious to me that he hadn't been part of any plot to change me against my will.

That was it. I was to be an adorable, busty China Doll with a silly voice. A sob caught in my throat as I imagined that. If Carla had her way, I'd be her maid for good. How would I get out of this?

When I finally got home, four days later, Melissa helped me up to my room and ordered me to dress in my afternoon uniform. "Ms. Martin is waiting for you in the sitting room," she said, "so don't dawdle."

When I got to the door of the sitting room, I saw Carla standing by the window, gazing out into the garden. I knocked on the doorframe and entered the room as she turned to face me.

"Ah, Jacqui, there you are," she said, looking me over. "Come in and sit down." She pointed to a chair and as I crossed the room toward it, she continued, "I'd like to have a brief chat with you. Please feel free to call me Carla."

I sat, straightening my skirts and curling my feet to the side and under me. When I had folded my hands in my lap and finally looked back up at her, I could see her studying me closely.

"So Jacqui," she began, "I hope you are feeling better and are ready to care for yourself properly. Your surgery was very expensive and I would hate to think that you won't have a simply gorgeous and fully functional pussy when it finally heals."

I nodded my acquiescence.

"Do you have any questions?"

I had already decided that my best course of action was to reveal nothing about my thoughts and feelings and act, instead, as if I had been defeated and given up. "Thank you for your concern, ma'am," I started off, failing to keep the anger out of my voice despite my decision to stay cool. "I'm sure your concern is both sincere and heartfelt."

Despite my best intentions, I had lost control. That last statement was dripping with sarcasm and I went on the same way. "I'm sure there aren't very many men whose wives are so supportive of their cross-dressing tendencies that they will castrate them and steal everything they own!"

Despite the venom in my voice, she looked at me blandly. "You are weak and you are a fool," she replied without emotion. "I have nothing but contempt for someone who would allow himself to be turned into a maid. You're so pitiful it's beyond my comprehension."

Now her voice turned nasty. "I pushed you into increasingly humiliating circumstances, but, except for once, you never resisted. You sunk into the maid's role with stunning ease. As far as I can see, you were born to be a maid."

"But why?" I choked out, hit hard by her hatred and contempt. "You knew about me when we married."

"My mistake," she hissed. "At first I was repulsed by the whole idea, although I will admit that I thought you were a decent and caring person. I was lonely; I thought I'd give it a try."

She looked away for a moment, her face softening. But, as soon as she looked back at me, the softness fled and was replaced by a chilling harshness. She stared at me for a moment before going on.

"John disgusted me," she spit out. "Any man who wants to abandon his sex is insane ... perverted ... beneath contempt." Her tone skewered my soul. How could I have been so mistaken about her?

"Then, you almost lost the Mark Seven contract because of your stupid perversion and your performance at work went down the tubes. I'd heard that transvestites are self-centered, but you were the worst. I'd had it."

"But Carla," I pleaded, "I'd given up dressing..."

"But you were obsessed with it anyway, weren't you?" she shouted. "It was all you could think of!"

That wasn't true, but before I could respond, she went on. "So I figured I'd give you one last chance. I'd open the door to Jacqui. If John went through it, so be it. If he didn't...." She hesitated for just a heartbeat. "But I knew he would and he did. Congratulations dear. Welcome to your new life."

We sat in silence for a few moments. I was shocked to my core by her revelations. I was so shaken, I couldn't even ask how. Instead, I said, "But why are you holding me hostage here for three years?"

"Oh, you're not a hostage," she said brightly. "You're an immigrant. You needed a sponsor to stay in the country and I volunteered. I've saved you. After you get your Green Card, you can do whatever you want."

With that, she got up and crossed the room, taking a large envelope from the table near the door. She returned to where I was sitting and handed me a passport. It was from Hong Kong. I was Jacqui Lian Chang, a Chinese of mixed ancestry, born in Hong Kong. According to the biography included with my papers, I had been brought into the country by my distant cousin, John Ingram, who, before he disappeared, had persuaded his former business partner, Carla, to take me on as her maid. I was simply flabbergasted.

"Good," she said, seeing how startled I was. "Now that we have that all squared away, here's the way things will be. Stand up Jacqui, and face me." She had reseated herself on the couch. I stood, dumbly, folding my hands in front of me.

"I am Ms. Martin, your employer. You are Jacqui, my immigrant maid. John is gone forever and you were never him. You and I have only the most formal, employer-employee relationship. You are never to be familiar with me. You are never to disagree with me. If you displease me, I will have you deported. Do you understand?"

I looked at her without comprehension. This was just impossible. "Kurt will take care of me," I said.

Carla just laughed. "He's out of the country for an indefinite period," she said, "his uncle is taking a long time to die and there will be much to do to settle the estate once he finally kicks off. Besides, you little twit, do you really think a sophisticated man like Kurt would be caught dead with a joke like you?"

Oh God, no! He wouldn't, would he? I am a joke. With my corseted waist and giant tits, I looked like an Asian Barbie doll. With my voice, I sounded more vacuous than Betty Boop. I was trapped. I had everything I could do to hold back my tears.

"Now Jacqui, we are quite done. Go find the First Girl and get on with your chores. I'll give you two weeks of light duty and half days to finish your recovery then it's back to your full-time schedule. You can make up the time in the future. You may now curtsey and get on with it."

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment as Carla pretended to focus on something else. When I hadn't moved after five seconds or so, she said, "Did you hear me? Move it!"

"Yes, ma'am,' I said stupidly, dropping as full a curtsey as the pain in my groin would allow. I was somewhat startled at how different it felt to do that with nothing squashed up between my legs.

"That's 'mum', you stupid twit," she said angrily.

I repeated the curtsey, saying 'mum' this time. Then I turned and left the room.

"So, Jacqui." Melissa greeted me when I returned to the maid's quarters. "Welcome to the rest of your life. Now you'll really get to see what being a maid is like. Ms. Martin has made it clear to me that I am responsible for keeping the house in perfect condition and I have no intention of letting things slide. As second maid, most of the cleaning will now fall to you, so be prepared for it.

"Yes, Melissa," I replied, still not totally aware of where I was. "Whatever."

Smack! She slapped me right across the face. "You listen to me when I'm talking Missy, do you understand?" She was right in my face, her hands on her hips, her chest pressed into mine. I felt totally intimidated.

"Yes, Melissa, sorry Melissa," I hurried out, trying to back away from her while I held my hand to my stinging cheek.

"That's First Girl to you," she responded sharply, "or Mistress. I'll tell you when you may use my name."

I nodded and curtseyed. "Yes mistress." The look of triumph on her face was frightening. It was full of contempt.

"Good. Now, do you feel up to doing some of your chores or do you need to rest?" she asked.

"Can I please have a couple of hours?" I asked. "This is the longest I've been out of bed for almost three weeks."

"I like that," she said, "the way you asked so politely. Keep it up and we'll get along just fine." She chuckled to herself. "Take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow you may sleep late, but be prepared to work half a day. I have no intention of injuring you, but neither do I want you slacking off. Now, go to bed."

The next few weeks passed in a haze. It was as if I had not only gotten a new body, but a new brain as well. I was terribly depressed and just couldn't think clearly. I tired easily and couldn't keep up with Melissa's demands even though they really weren't excessive. She was all over me for every little thing and I was starting to get uncertain and insecure.

I retreated into embroidering, sewing and searching the web for information about flowers, shrubs, and other plants, although I had yet to venture outside myself. Oh yes, and I spent time finding every piece of information out there on voice control. I was determined to lower my voice.

I worked on my voice whenever I was alone, trying to find ways to lower it, and doing the exercises I had discovered on the web. Still, I was very hesitant to talk to anyone, because I was now convinced that my voice sounded exactly like those little girl voices that are dubbed over to give English dialogue to Chinese actresses in 'B' grade martial arts movies. ‘Oh, Wang! That is the terrible Wei Yang who has come to the village! We are all lost’.

Gradually though, I got my head back together. There was little going on at the house and it was easy to keep up with the cleaning. I hardly ever saw Carla, which was definitely good for me. Melissa was strict, but not nasty, and I worked hard so she had little reason to complain.

My main goal was to get through the day without having to think much about what had happened to me. I was trying to feel good about my breasts, even though they were always in the way and had created a new strain on my back. I was trying to get past the constant awareness of what had happened between my legs. I mean, it was so different now, with nothing there on the outside and strange new feelings on the inside. I guess I was making some progress because one afternoon, as I sat to pee, I realized that I had not thought about my lost penis and balls or new vagina since I had peed last. That was real progress.

Ignoring my body and my predicament was impossible at night. I was anxious and depressed and full of anger at Carla and Melissa. I was getting very little sleep, which made the rest of my life lousy. Despite the progress I was making, things sucked.

Even though I was starting to get used to it, my new vagina was a major focus of my life. I still had to clean it carefully and then dilate four times a day. I was startled one evening as I sat back in bed and pushed a new, slightly wider stent into place. I felt a slight shock, as if someone was rubbing the underside of my penis. Up until then, things had been pretty numb.

This encouraged me to explore some more and, sure enough, I could detect some sexual stirrings from rubbing inside my vagina. My new clitoris, little more than a slightly hard nub of tissue, absolutely tingled as I played with it.

This both thrilled and appalled me. I was no longer in a chastity belt and I had a working vagina. Did this mean I could have sex with a man? As I rubbed the stent around inside me, my mind started to wander. I could now imagine how it might feel to have someone inside me.

For one brief instant I visualized myself, flat on my back, my legs spread wide, while some faceless man loomed over me, his gigantic penis aimed at the virgin space between my legs. I stared at it from between the mountains of my gigantic breasts, fearing that it would be too big, but as quickly as that image had coalesced, it dissolved. While I could now understand better than ever before just what intercourse might feel like, for the life of me, I couldn't imagine myself actually doing it. It was too foreign an idea.

Then, about the time that my face had fully recovered and my breasts had stopped being so sore, I started to take an interest in life again. One day after Melissa and I had laced each other into our corsets, I was now so thin, that I was down to twenty inches with no discomfort at all. I sat in front of my vanity and rationally examined my face. Whether you liked Asian features or not, I had to admit to myself that I was a pretty damn good-looking babe. I started to apply my makeup.

"Welcome back, Jacqui," Melissa had been watching me in the mirrors.

"Thanks," I squeaked. God, I hated the way I sounded!

Because I was now working on a new canvas, I had to stop and clean off my makeup a couple of times before I achieved a look I was moderately satisfied with. Getting the new me perfected would require more practice.

"Good mornin', mum." I forced myself to smile as I poured Ms. Martin's coffee despite the way my voice sounded. I was determined to get used to it. I'm sure I hadn't smiled at her since leaving for the hospital.

"Thank you, Jacqui." Even though it was clear that she noticed it, my smile didn't change anything. As was her norm, Ms. Martin directed her conversation, what little there was, to Melissa during breakfast. As I cleared the table, she spoke to me.

"Are your breasts fully healed, Jacqui?"

"Yes, I think so, mum."

"Good, dispose of that horrid bra you've been wearing then."

"Mum?" I asked without thinking.

"Yes?"

"Just this one or are you ordering me to go braless again?" I asked even though I'd guessed her answer.

"I would prefer that the top of your corsets be all of the support your breasts need from now on."

"Yes mum, of course."

I didn't want my breasts flopping about and jiggling with every movement I made and I didn't want them on display like beef in a butcher's window, but I took the bra off when I had the chance. My uniform now exposed most of the tops of my breasts, which the corset lifted and presented as if they were gifts to all who chose to gaze upon them. As I looked into the mirror, I could see how my top was truly full, brimming with breast tissue. I also had incredible cleavage. The bulging flesh was very pale and remarkably soft. The skin seemed almost translucent, perhaps because it was still stretched. A mole that had never been visible before stood out clearly in my cleavage. I never could have imagined my chest looking so womanly.

Even though I was starting to learn to feel proud of the way I looked, my monumental breasts were still a source of embarrassment for me, as if I had chosen them through some mistake in judgment, and everyone would know and look down on me for it.

For the remainder of August, as I gradually got my strength back, I followed the established routine: morning chores, my hobbies during our breaks then afternoon and evening chores. I hadn't been off the property except for one visit to see Dr. Tobias. I really didn't want to learn how the rest of the world would react to how I looked and sounded.

Only half my tomato plants had survived, but, because they had been planted so late, they were producing an unusually heavy late crop. The flowerbed in front was flourishing as well, stuffed in a carefully arranged chaotic way, like a country garden. Manuel was happy to bring more each time his crew came to attend to the yard.

One morning as I was standing with Manuel discussing what to plant for fall color, Ms. Martin came over to tell me that she was very pleased with how it was shaping up, or so I thought. Instead her goal was to humiliate me, by addressing me front of the gardeners and including all of us together. It was clear that her intent was to show me just where I stood.

"Manuel, you and Jacqui have done a wonderful job with the garden. I'm glad to see the two of you get along so well together."

"Muchas gracias," replied Manuel, taking off his hat and folding it in his hand. He was, I thought, the perfect image of a submissive Mexican gardener, fearful of losing his job.

"Thank you, mum," I was forced to say when Manuel had finished, because that was obviously what she was waiting for.

As Manuel turned to leave, he was smiling like a big puppy. "You know, Jacqui," Carla said to me, "you should think of trying to make some friends among your class. You'll be a very lonely young lady otherwise."

"What?" I squealed like a stuck pig.

Carla turned on me instantly. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

I quickly swallowed my pride and lowered my head, saying, "Yes mum. Sorry mum," as I bobbed two quick curtsies.

She glared at me, but went on. "You're a maid, Jacqui. You will find your social life among similarly placed people. I would guess you're not interested in the gardeners, though they are certainly interested in you. If you're lucky, maybe a plumber or electrician will take an interest in you. No educated professional person would even think of it."

I stared at her dumbfounded, my eyes wide and my mouth open (like I could even close it).

Carla just laughed at me. "Well, perhaps I'm not entirely correct there, Jacqui. I'm sure many professional men will want to fuck you. If you're clever, perhaps you can get some bauble or another in return."

I continued to stare at her, so she went on, obviously relishing the pain she was causing me. "This is all real, you know? No more little cross-dressing games." Then she turned and left. All I could do was to think to myself, 'Fuck you bitch. Who needs your condescending crap'?

My life was now pretty empty and, to keep myself from getting too depressed, I vigorously threw myself into my chores each morning. By the beginning of September, I was doing most of the work and taking at least some pride in doing each task well.

Then one day, I was cleaning up in the dining room when the phone rang. I could just hear Melissa as she answered. "No, I'm sorry she can't come to the phone. No, Henry, she is not available now and never will be to you. Please don't call anymore?"

What was going on? Henry had called and Melissa told him I couldn't talk? That was too much. I almost stormed into the kitchen, but restrained myself at the last second. It was better, I decided, not to let her know what I knew. I would have to get in touch with Henry on my own.

This really lifted my heart. I thought that Kurt had abandoned me, but it now looked as if Melissa and Carla were simply not allowing me to speak with him. My break came a few days later. Carla was at work and Melissa had gone to the market. I quickly called Henry as soon as I was sure the house was empty.

"Hello? Henry? It's me Jacqui."

"Jacqui? He replied in his professionally clipped tone. "Do I know you?"

"Yes, Henry, you do," I squeaked out. "They operated on my throat and changed my voice. This is the Jacqui, you dropped off at the hospital, six weeks ago. Henry, they castrated me and made me into a woman." I started to sob.

"I'm trapped here. How did it happen? What did Kurt tell Dr. Tobias to do?" There was a long pause.

"Jacqui, I don't know anything about any of this. Let me look into it. By the way, Mr. Mark will be back in ten days. He really misses you. He wants to see you at the airport when he arrives."

"Oh God, Henry. Carla told me he had abandoned me and would never want to see me again. Oh, Henry, are you sure? Oh, thank God, Henry. Oh please, Henry, please say you're sure? I've been so scared and didn't know what to do."

"Are you alright, Jacqui? You're not in any danger are you?"

"No, Henry, I'm safe. It's all very complicated. I'm afraid to tell you over the phone."

"Jacqui, Mr. Mark left me with orders to look out for you. I can come get you out of there right now if you want?"

I almost shouted 'Yes! Come get me right now!" I took a deep breath and stopped myself. "Henry, find out what you can and please see if Kurt's lawyers can help me? He's my only hope now. I'll call you. I don't want Carla and Melissa to know what's going on. I'm sure they'll try to stop me."

"Okay, Jacqui. Try to hold on there. I'm only a cell phone call away if you need me. In the meantime, I'll see what I can learn. Jacqui, do plan to go to the airport when Mr. Mark arrives. You will meet his plane even if I have to kidnap you." Henry's confidence was such a contrast to the helplessness I'd been feeling, it almost made me cry.

"Oh thank you, Henry, you have no idea how much I needed to hear this. I'll call you."

When I hung up the phone, I sat down and cried. Everything I had been holding in just came out. I cried and cried and cried until I had nothing left. Then I went to fix my face and do my chores. Everything seemed different now. Finally, there was some hope. Kurt wouldn't let me down. He would be my white knight.

The trick for me, as far as I could figure it, would be to keep my secret from Carla and Melissa. Carla would be easy; she never paid attention to me anyway. Melissa, however, was another story. We still lived together and she had become very adept at reading my moods. In fact, once I had pretty much regained my strength and could carry my load of the chores again, our friendly relationship reasserted itself and many of our days together passed rather pleasantly, as long as I remembered my place.

I don't know what Melissa thought, but it was clear to me that our relationship was now one between two unequal people. She was the boss and I was the hired help. No matter how nice she might be, it was obvious that I didn't have to scratch the surface of her patience or her ‘friendship’ very deeply, at all, before I found someone ready and eager to keep me in my place.

You can imagine how startled I was when she appeared behind me two nights after my conversation with Henry. I was brushing my hair, which hadn't been cut since May, and was now a good two inches longer than my original bubble cut had left it.

"Can I do that for you, Jacqui?" she said. I couldn't help, but notice that she was dressed in one of her silky nightgowns. It was cut in tightly below the bust and showed her breasts to good advantage. I hadn't seen this nightie since we had ‘played around’ earlier in the summer.

Overcoming my suspicion of her motive, I handed her the brush, glad to be able to lower my arms. It still hurt a little to work with them over my head. She brushed my hair languorously for a couple of minutes then put the brush aside to start caressing my face and neck. I immediately stiffened up.

"Relax honey," she said softly. "I've missed you. I thought we could share a bed tonight like we used to."

I turned to face her, trying to find her motive in her face. It looked kind and welcoming, her lips were slightly parted and she had applied lipstick, a sure sign of what she had planned. Still, I was uneasy. I felt no warmth for her at all. She was Carla's partner in my castration and subjugation.

"Melissa," I said, my voice wavering softly with anxiety, "I don't think we should."

"But I do," she responded quickly, her voice now more commanding than anything else. "So we will." She went back to her soft, seductive tone. "I wanted to be the first to sample your new goodies … and I will be. Come with me. We're going to bed."

She reached out and took my hand, pulling me to my feet and leading me towards her bunk. When we got there, she handed me a deep-red lipstick and said, "You know what to do." I looked at her for a second, but her face was set. I applied the lipstick and climbed into the bed next to her.

"Please be gentle?" I begged. "Don't hurt me."

"Don't worry honey, you're in for a treat. I'm very good at this."

She was too. She kissed me carefully, using her lips and fingers to explore my new face. She paid special attention to my new fatter lips, licking and nibbling on them like they were over-ripe fruit. I just loved the feeling, as she drew my lower lip into her mouth and kissed it almost like it was my tongue, finally letting it go with little nibbles and pecks.

Then she worked her mouth down my neck to my upper chest and the tops of my breasts. As she did this, she drew her body down on mine so her head was even with my breasts. She lifted herself up for a moment and looked me in the eye. She lowered her mouth to one of my nipples at the same time that she grabbed that breast in both her hands. It was so big, it seemed that it took both her hands to hold it. She kneaded and suckled and I thought I would swoon at the feeling. It wasn't just the feeling of her hands and lips on my breast, I had felt that before. It was also that my nipple was so far from my body and there was so much breast between it and my chest. The nipple was floating on the soft cloud of my breast and, for whatever reason, this made me feel deliciously feminine.

As she played with my breasts, I got strange stirring between my legs. It felt like I was about to get a hard-on, but there was nothing there to get hard. It was both exquisite and frustrating, but much better than having my penis locked away.

"Let me touch yours," I whispered hoarsely. When I whispered, my voice wasn't nearly so bad.

"No," she said, "Just lie still for now. Your turn will come."

I don't know how long she spent on my breasts, but however long it was, I was still disappointed when she stopped. Her hesitation was only momentary. She left a hand to knead each breast as she worked her lips down my belly to the top of my pubic bone. The hair still hadn't fully grown out and it was scratchy.

"This will never do," she declared, sitting upright. Don't move. She jumped out of the bed, but returned in only a few moments with a wet washcloth, razor and shaving cream. It didn't take her long to shave me completely and rub a sweet smelling lotion into my skin.

That turned out to be foreplay, because the rubbing soon turned to caressing then to licking and kissing. Even though she was very gentle and quite sexy, I was getting more and more uptight as she worked her way towards that strange new space between my legs.

When Melissa finally put her finger into my vagina and touched the nub of my new clitoris, I almost jumped off the bed.

"Easy baby," she soothed, looking up at my face. "You're as skittish as a fourteen year old virgin."

"I am a virgin," I said back, my voice quivering with anxiety. "And I'm scared."

She giggled at me and said, "Just relax baby, let Melissa show you how." With that, she slithered even further down, so she was between my legs, and reached around me, grabbing one cheek of my ass in each hand. She cocked her head to the side, like a bird looking at the ground for a worm, smiled to herself and again lowered her head between my legs.

She rubbed her lips all over my ... what do I call it now? My mons? That's what it was, I guess, considering what now lay below it. From there, she licked my upper thighs and kissed them rubbing her lips up and down. She did everything, but actually touch my new lips, which now protruded puffily between my legs.

I gradually loosened up and relaxed down onto the bed. I found my hand on my breast. I had, of course, touched them before. I'd washed them, hefted them and generally tried to get their feel as I examined them in the mirror, but I hadn't caressed them sexually. I did that now, bringing my other hand up too, massaging the bulk of each of them. I rubbed them around on my chest and trailed my fingers around and around the nipples without actually touching them.

For a moment, the attention I was paying to my breasts distracted me from Melissa's efforts between my legs, but, all of a sudden, she licked the labia on one side of my vagina from the bottom to the top in one long, moist motion. It sent a shockwave through my body. For an instant, I thought someone had licked my scrotum! In the very next instant, my mind said that couldn't be. Then she licked the other side, also sliding her tongue up from the bottom to the very top. Once she reached the top, she licked down the other side. Having wet the entrance way, she then stuck her tongue firmly between the two lips and licked all the way up their inside edges.

My mind was rocked by the feeling of slick, wet licking on a part of my anatomy that had never existed. It just couldn't understand what was going on and I grabbed both my breasts and held on as I tried to interpret this new reality. I couldn't even get my hands around those gigantic orbs, so my fingers dug in and I pushed them into my chest.

Melissa wasn't giving me any time to think. She moved her tongue deeply into my tunnel while she gently pulled the lips apart with her soft fingers so she could bury her tongue in as far in as possible. The feeling of her tongue inside me was wonderful. It was almost as if someone had engulfed my penis, but that wasn't it at all, because, instead of coming from the outside of a rod, as it always had in the past, this feeling emanated from inside a cavern that had never existed before.

After thrusting her tongue in and out and swirling it around as she explored this new space to her own satisfaction, she withdrew it and used only the very tip to gently stroke what could only be my new clitoris. The feelings were almost too much for me and I began squirming and wriggling on the bed. While the feeling of her tongue in my vagina was one of warmth and fulfillment, the feelings as she flicked my clitoris was almost ticklish and made me feel desperate to have her squeeze my erection hard and stroke it and slide it into...

This made no sense at all. I didn't have an erection and there was nothing to squeeze... anymore. I couldn't stand it. I wanted her to continue and I wanted her to stop. I was exquisitely sensitive there, but I keep waiting to get hard, something that would never happen again.

"Melissa, please stop?" I squeaked out. "I can't stand it."

"You want me to stop?" she asked, sounding slightly stunned. "No one has ever asked me to stop before."

"Melissa, I'm not really a woman. It feels all wrong, somehow. The feelings don't make sense. I want to get hard, but there's nothing left to get hard. I have to figure this out."

"Humph," she said, sounding rather skeptical. "Well, if I can't do you, you can do me. Roll over. You be on top." Melissa slithered onto her back, looking very sexy. Her lips were red and swollen, her nipples pushed hard against the clingy material of her nightie and she smelled of sex. I would have preferred to have stopped, so I could make sense of all these new feelings, but it was clear what she wanted and I knew that she would get angry if I refused.

"Would you like a warm-up?" I asked as I lowered my chest to her and rubbed my nipples over hers, or should I go straight to the main event?"

"Mmmmm," was apparently all she could get out, because that's all she said. ‘Humph,’ I thought to myself, ‘I guess I'm on my own.’ I went to work.

All of a sudden, just when I had my face firmly wedged between Melissa's thighs and my tongue working furiously inside her pussy, we heard Carla mounting the steel stairs and loudly call, "Corset check!" The lights came on. When I turned to look, there stood Carla, her face twisted into an angry mask.

"What the fuck is going on here?" she demanded, as I rolled off Melissa. "You're not home a month and you're already having sex with my sister? You are a slut, you little bitch! Get the fuck out of bed! I'll teach you."

As I went to stand, she stalked about the room. I turned to look at Melissa, who, for some reason, was on her knees, searching under her bunk.

Carla turned when Melissa stood with a big smile and a box in her hands. As if in slow motion, I watched her take the gleaming steel device from the tissues. Carla was laughing when Melissa held the new chastity belt.

"Put it on, you fucking, little slut! I’m sure you know how!" she ordered with venom dripping from every word. Melissa was applied a liberal coating of biocide lubricant to the stent mounted inside the front shield then handed the whole thing to me.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't bear the thought of another chastity belt, this time, one that would actually invade me. I stood there, shaking my head, but not moving.

"Put it on," shouted Carla. "If you don't, I'll have you deported."

I looked up at her, begging with eyes, but her face was hard and full of hatred. It scared me to my bones. I saw no way out, and certainly didn't want to be deported, so I just did as I’d been told.

Melissa had been poised behind me to fasten the rear lock. Once I’d wrapped the band about the top of my hips and settled it on the lower portion of my corset, she held it in place while I reached between my legs to lift up the front shield. Once I'd done that, Melissa ‘helped’ by spreading my cheeks so the back strap could settle against my tailbone as I pressed the stent slowly up inside of me.

The front section of the new belt was much wider then my old one to completely cover my vagina and completely deny access to my sex. I started to cry when Melissa pressed the pieces of the locking mechanism in my shaking hand.

"You do it, you slutty bitch. You get to lock up your hungry cunt yourself," Carla hissed.

"Put the cylinder over the three studs in front. Now push the pin in from the side," Melissa instructed. Once I had, she handed me a small tool to seat the pin in the groove for the shackle.

"You need to pluck your lips into the two grooves in your crotch. Be sure they aren’t pinched because the secondary shield will cover them and there won’t be a thing you can do about it then." Using my long nails, I carefully drew each of my nether lips out until they were relatively comfortable, though it wasn’t a pleasant sensation by any means. I quickly learned that things would get worse.

The secondary shield was a perforated piece bent in a U to match the curve of the front shield there. This was bent inwards on both sides so that once I’d slipped the end into the socket below the opening over my anus, the piece stood away from the main belt with the sides closed to prevent anything from touching my lips and the knob attached to the stent inside protruded through the middle of it.

The lock mechanism assembled in the same way as the other two, in the middle of my abdomen. Melissa wrapped the shackles of two padlocks in the grooves of each assembly, covering the pins to prevent removal, but didn’t close the locks. That task was left to me to perform.

I pleaded with my tear filled eyes toward Carla not to do this to me again. It did no good. She motioned for me to do what she expected and smiled, once the shackles snapped into the heavy cases. She tugged each lock, hard, to assure herself that they were properly secure.

"Very good. Get back in bed, both of you." Melissa tossed me my nightie from where she’d earlier discarded it and put on her own. Climbing up to the to bunk gave me the first hints of why the belt’s designer had intended for the victim’s labia to be positioned as mine were.

As my body moved, the rubber covered edges pulled and tugged gently against sensitive flesh. I was going to be continuously stimulated! It would never be enough to push me to orgasm, if I could still have one, but it would constantly remind me of what I could no longer touch.

I sobbed in frustration and probed about the steel.

Melissa, however, wasn’t going to tolerate my whimpering. Once Carla had turned out the lights and gone back downstairs, she said, "Shut the fuck up, Jacqui. I want to sleep!"

"Sleep! How can you be so insensitive after what your sister has done to me?" I whined.

"If you don’t be quiet, I’ll call her back and you’ll learn what fun it is sleeping with a gag as well as those cute leather cuffs they put on you in the clinic after you attacked Ms. Martin," Melissa threatened.

I lay awake for a long time that night, feeling even more sorry for myself than I had at the hospital. Being turned into a woman was one thing. Being prevented from even touching my new vagina was something else altogether. I didn't know how I would survive if I couldn't get out of there. I'm not sure when I fell asleep.

*****

"Alright Jacqui, Let's get to work. Don't think that just because I let you go down on me last night that that changes anything. When I say jump, the only thing you have to figure out is how high. Now get moving." Melissa completely ignored the other little thing that had happened last night.

"Stand there," After I’d served her coffee at breakfast, Carla pointed to the opposite side of the table.

"I’m fully aware of the medical need for you to dilate several times a day." She talked between mouthfuls without looking at me. "I did not invest my money in a new vagina for you only to have it wasted because you didn't care for it properly."

"I’ve consulted with several physicians regarding alternatives so that your hot cunt can be locked away with the kind of belt a slut like you needs, Jacqui. You’re wearing it. Instead of frequent, daily dilations, the stent built into your belt will keep your hole stretched open and available when I permit men to use you. On the front in the middle of the knob there is a fitting. Through it, you can douche and re-lubricate. Then you only have to twist the knob to effectively distribute the lubricant.

"They informed me that if you do this diligently, three or four times a day, there’s no medical reason to ever have to open the shields." Carla displayed a triumphant smile.

"Go upstairs and start your chores." That was it; I’d been dismissed. I was too depressed to argue — her decision had been made.

Melissa was a total bitch all day and nothing I did was right. As I thought about it later, I understood that the sexual interlude we shared was just like the sex many bosses had shared with their female employees for thousands of years. Any pleasure the boss gave was to establish dominance and the main purpose of the whole event was to allow the boss to get her rocks off. This particular instance had another motive as well. It was to trap me and give Carla the justification, as if she needed one, for placing my new sex under lock and key.

Melissa wasn't experienced at this, so she went from one extreme, being an attentive lover, to the other, being a bitchy boss, to protect her own feelings. It seemed clear to me that she would demand sex again and that it would mean even less to her than it had last night. Oh well, at least I learned some things about myself. I liked the way my new body felt when she'd touched it. Truth, be told, I was eager to learn more. Despite the fact that I didn't trust her, I had no intention of resisting Melissa's efforts to seduce me in the future. Maybe I could become relaxed enough to eventually enjoy what she could give me, if we could only get the chastity belt off.

"So Jacqui," Carla said to me as she finished breakfast a few days later. "Mr. Mark has informed me that he wants you to meet his flight and spend the evening with him when he arrives from Germany on Saturday."

"He did, mum?" I curtseyed, brightening. "I didn't know." I had been working on my voice, but thought I still sounded like Minnie Mouse.

"Of course you didn't know, you twit. He called me, not you." She looked at me sourly, but then suddenly smiled. "But I think you should meet him. It's about time he met the new you. Everyone needs a good laugh now and again."

"I'm sure they do, mum." I had tried to stifle myself, but failed. That was obviously sarcastic, and it didn't escape Carla's notice.

"How cute, Jacqui, expressing your resentment in such a subtle way. I expect you'll be feeling like that a lot, as time goes on," she went on in a conversational tone. But then her voice hardened, "But you had better be careful, girly. I doubt you'll like the consequences if you piss me off with another one of your little zingers." She eyed me coldly.

Then she shifted back to a relaxed tone again. "Anyway, Henry will pick you up at three thirty and since nothing you used to own would fit anymore, I've gotten you some terrific new clothes. Just to show how generous I am, I've made an appointment for you at my salon to get your hair and nails done. You really do look a mess. Now what do you say?"

I curtseyed carefully and said, "Thank you, mum. That's very generous of you, mum. I'm sure it will make a big difference, mum."

"Yes, I know it will," she said sourly.

End of Part VI

There was only one word for me - Outrageous! Perched on those heels, my legs seemed to go on forever, and covered in tight, shiny leopard-skin print, they were shockingly, luridly sexy.

I found myself strangely jealous as I watched him interact with the other women. I guess I wanted all his attentions for myself.

Jacqui, one day I hope to enjoy your body fully, but not now. You are suffering and not thinking clearly.

_______________________________________________________________

Saturday morning, Melissa drove me to Carla's salon, where I had gotten my first bubble cut and makeover last spring. That had truly been in another life. Melissa and I were both there to get the works, but, unlike our first visit, when we had left looking quite like twins, this time we were going to end up looking quite different.

Melissa came out a blonde. Her now lustrous, softly curled hair was brushed off her face to give her a delicate, clean look. Her makeup was now softer and more natural looking with subtle earth tones accenting her eyes and a hushed brownish red color on her lips.

I couldn't have looked more different. I really wanted my hair longer, but when I told Carla what I wanted, she just snorted. "I'm in charge of how you look and you'll please me," she said. My hair was restyled just as before, in a spherical bob, only this time, my bangs were even fuller.

I had also asked to have my roots died black. If I was going to be oriental, I figured I should have black hair. Carla had other ideas, however, and had made her wishes clear to the salon. My hair was now several shades of red.

My long, thick bangs and the very front of the sides of my cut were an almost fluorescent pinky orange. Looking from the front, it was the only color you could see; an unnatural hue that only a rock singer might chose. The rest was a darker looking red, almost magenta, with lots of streaks that matched my bangs. My makeup was equally as garish, with lots of dark charcoal around my eyes, heavily applied black liner and lots on mascara to blend my natural lashes with the long thick, false ones the technician had glued in place. An orangey red defined my high cheeks, while bright red that clashed with my hair colors coated my lips and suddenly long fingernails.

I looked like a hooker, or an anime character, with huge eyes and full, parted lips. Because I was six feet tall in my six-inch heels, everyone would have a clear view of my face and I would draw attention wherever I went. I was a very attractive, as in I’d attract people's stares, and well-coifed hooker, but a hooker nonetheless. I was mortified and scared of what Kurt might think if I showed up at the airport looking like this. Hell, I might even get arrested by the airport police, if I showed up looking like this.

Panicked, I 'borrowed' a cell phone from a purse in the changing room and called Henry. I told him to pick me up an hour and a half early and directed him to buy me some conservative clothes and specific items of makeup. I couldn't change the hair, but I could certainly tone down the rest of me, I thought.

It's a good thing I had called him too, because Carla had not only selected my hair color, nails, and makeup, but she had prepared an outfit for me. She led me into her room as soon as she had inspected the new look, which she’d selected.

"It’s time to get ready to go meet your boyfriend, so strip down, sweetie," Carla said, as I stared at the outfit on her bed. "This is a big day for you. I'm taking off your chastity belt. I think you should be free of it whenever you go out with a man, in case you get lucky."

I shivered even though it wasn't cold. I didn't like the implications of that. She was keeping me belted to keep me from enjoying sex by myself or with a woman, but wanted me to be available for men. I would not have put it past her to set me up to get raped.

I shook that thought off as I examined the clothes on the bed. The first thing that grabbed my attention was a seemingly minuscule pair of shiny leopard-skin, stirrup pants. Carla noticed me looking at them right away.

"Aren't they great?" she asked, bright-eyed as an innocent child, "And guess what? Because they're so tight, you won't be able to wear panties."

"No panties?" I squeaked, as I lay my uniform on the bed before taking everything else off. "Why not?"'

"Think of the panty-line dear," she said, giggling. "We can't let you out showing a panty line. But don't worry, look what I got you instead." She handed me a tiny thong.

"What?" I gasped as she placed the slippery piece of lingerie in my hand. "There's nothing there!" Carla, and now Melissa, who had just joined us to watch me get dressed, both laughed.

"This nothing," giggled Carla again, taking it back from me to show me how it went, "cost a pretty penny. It's made of the slinkiest stretch satin money can buy. I wanted you to feel special when you meet your boyfriend.

"Special?" I squeaked, "I'll feel naked."

"Be that as it may," said Carla, you're wearing them. Now finish getting undressed and put these on. We mustn't keep Henry waiting. He'll be here early, you know. He just called."

"Early?" I said, doing my best to sound surprised. Of course, the pitch of my voice made me sound surprised whether I wanted to or not. I took off everything, but my corset.

"That goes too dear, turn and around and let Melissa untie it." I turned my back and Melissa removed the corset. Then she measured my waist.

"Twenty-three and a half inches," said Melissa proudly, as if she had anything to do with it. "Now that's what I call successful figure training."

I ran my hands down my sides and could feel them curve in when they got to my waist and then curve out again over my hips. I was pleased, but I repressed the smile and slid the ridiculous little black wisp up my legs, settling it above my hips. Right away, I didn't like the feeling of the string that slid up between my cheeks. Why would anyone wear such a thing? But what really blew me away, was the way the tiny little triangle of fabric in the front snuggled so tightly over my ... my ... vagina? It actually made the lips puff out on either side, accentuating rather than hiding them. I pulled the edges out to try to get it settled and then stroked it a couple of times. Carla slapped my hand away.

"I’ll not tolerate you playing with your twat," she instructed. When I looked up, she was watching me with a look of triumph on her face.

"Feels wonderful, doesn't it Jacqui? You always were a girl at heart. Just wait until you have some man put his hand on top of it and start to rub. You'll thank me then," she smirked. I frowned in response.

Carla handed me the pants. "Melissa and I agreed that you have earned the right to wear pants again, now that you are so completely female," she sniggered. "I'm sure you'll love these."

I struggled to get them on and was simply appalled at the look. They were the very definition of skintight. They were so tight; I would have been paralyzed by them if they hadn't been made out of a stretchy Lycra. But they did stretch, and I could move quite easily. I just knew they would give my smallish ass world-class emphasis. I rubbed my hand over the back of my hip and understood why women wear thongs. A hair would have shown through these pants, if it had been lying against my hip.

More striking to me, however, was how flat my front was. The low cut pants covered the small mound above my pubis as if I truly was a leopard, then dove down between my legs without even a ripple. I stepped over to Carla's mirror to look at myself. The space between my legs actually made me gasp aloud. The way those pants stretched, so evenly from one leg to the other, and from the waistband down to the slot where my groin disappeared between my legs was the most female thing I'd ever seen. And it was me. I gaped as I looked at the new me for the first time.

Carla and Melissa were smirking at me. It was easy to see why. Carla held out a ridiculous top in black lurex with gold threads running through it. That wasn't the bad part. No, the top was ringed with fringe and I could just imagine where the fringe would hang.

Once I had it on, my worst fears were realized. The top was cut very low, a deep vee running from far out on each shoulder down towards the middle of my chest, well below the tops of my breasts. I was showing tons of cleavage along with the top halves of my breasts. The bottom was cropped, leaving my midriff and navel exposed. The fringe hung down from nipple height, all the way around, as if I was a stripper, ready to shake it around on a gaudily lit stage. I was appalled. I could only gasp out, "You've got to be kidding?"

"Oh no, honey, we're not," hissed Carla, "And here're your shoes. You'll love them too."

I didn't think so. They were tall, strappy, platform sandals in black patent leather. The clear plastic, platform soles must have been over and inch and the heels seven inches.

"I can't walk in these," I said, as I stood up. "I'll kill myself."

"Just take short steps and be sure to swing your hips," laughed Melissa. I could tell that I would have to, or risk falling off. To this, they added a zebra-stripped purse and a ridiculous fake fur jacket, cropped above my waist. No doubt about it. They had dressed me as a whore.

"Why are you so cruel to me?" I asked, stupidly.

"Because you deserve it, you fucking pansy!" snapped Carla, so harshly that even Melissa cringed. "You humiliated me with your stupid girly games, you almost ruined the business and you're stupid enough to let me get away with it!" She was almost spitting, she was so angry. By the time she had finished, she had backed me up to the door of her room even though I was looking down on her by several inches. "You tricked me into marrying you and now I'm getting my revenge. You make me sick."

Despite being taken totally aback by the ferocity of her anger, I couldn't miss the comment about humiliating her. Where had that come from, I wondered, now worried that she might actually attack me.

"You can’t go out looking like that." Carla’s mood suddenly changed. She was starting at my exposed belly. "Take off your jacket and top." Her change of heart brightened me.

"Melissa run and get that new red corset. The pressure marks from her other corset and red streaks from its laces and bones simply ruin the entire look I wanted."

The corset was long enough and had big enough bra cups to be a bustier, but was still heavily boned. Thank goodness it came well up to my breasts, but not covering the nipples. Melissa laced me tightly into the leather garment. When she tied off, I felt and heard a click in the small of my back.

"What did you just do?" I asked.

"She locked it, you silly twit!" Carla snapped.

This was no better than the previous top in terms of advertising sex, but Carla at least calmed down quickly once I had it on, and just said to me. "Get out of here. Wait for your driver by the maid's entrance. I only wish I could be at the airport to see Kurt laugh at you when he gets in, you pitiful excuse for a sissy."

I opened the door and teetered downstairs as quickly as I could. Actually the shoes weren't that bad. I'd worn very high heels before, the only difference this time was that the soles were inflexible and really made me concentrate on putting the heel and toe down together.

By the time I had gotten to the kitchen, I had calmed down only somewhat. Carla had really gone off the deep end and I really needed to get out of her house and life. I could only pray the Kurt would help me, because if he wouldn't, I didn't know what I would do. I walked around the kitchen, practicing in my heels as I waited for Henry. After a few minutes, I couldn't resist and went into the foyer to check myself out in the full-length mirror.

There was only one word for me - Outrageous! Perched on those heels, my legs seemed to go on forever and, covered in shiny leopard-skin print, they were shockingly, luridly sexy. The little jacket was ridiculous, but when I took it off, the combination of my tiny waist and huge tits in their red leather wrapping was scandalous. I had never tried to be blatantly sexy before, but now I looked like I had escaped from a bad porno movie. God, I was a teenage boys wet dream, a totally tasteless knock-out. I was sexier than any woman I had ever seen in real life.

I was mortified too. Everyone would be looking at me carefully. In fact, they would be studying me. And as ridiculous as it now was, I still held every cross-dresser's fear of being read and outed. I just wasn't used to being the center of attention anywhere, and now all eyes would be on me everywhere I went. Men would lust after me and woman would hate me. What was I going to do?

As I was becoming increasingly agitated with myself, just beginning to realize that I was a caricature of sex object, the back doorbell rang. I grabbed the stupid little jacket and the ridiculous purse and hurried to greet Henry.

When I threw open the back door, slightly out of breath from having rushed through the house to get there, Henry's face struggled to maintain its professional mask even as his mouth fell open. For a moment, he was paralyzed. He hadn't known what to expect, but after he got over his initial surprise, and had drawn his eyes back from my tits to my face, it was obvious that what he saw distressed him.

"Hi Henry," I said, trying to keep my voice from squeaking, but it's ridiculous pitch brought him back to his senses.

"Jacqui?" he said, still trying to recover.

"Yes, Henry. It's me," I replied in a slightly shaky voice. "This is why you never want to piss Carla off," I said smilingly ruefully.

His eyes jerked up and down in his head a few times, trying to make sense of the thing standing in front of him before he recovered and said, "Come along, I brought some things for you in the car." He escorted me to the big Rolls.

"I do hope that these will, do, Jacqui," he hesitantly offered. "I had to guess your sizes." He removed the plastic covering from the suit.

"Did you tell Suzanne these were for me?" Her logo was on the wrapper. I hadn't thought to tell him to shop there, but he had driven me to the boutique before.

"Suzanne and her sister own the store where you bought the suit," I explained.

"Ah yes. I did not, at first, tell the woman your name, but she guessed it once I had described you, Jacqui."

"Then these will fit." I checked the other bags. "Where’s the make-up?" I heard Henry draw in his breath and raised my head to see his upset fade.

"Forgot the makeup, huh? It’s OK; I’ll manage. Shall we get going?"

Once I’d changed into the suit, about all I could do with the makeup in my ridiculous purse was to remove the hideously colored rouge from me cheeks. I replaced it with a thin blush of red using the lipstick. It looked better. I sat back to try to calm myself.

I didn't permit Henry to drop me at the arrivals terminal once we’d reached Kennedy. I didn’t think I looked like a hooker any longer, but I wasn't sure I had graduated much past high priced call girl. Few hookers wear thousand dollar suits of polished, black kidskin or five hundred dollar high-heeled boots, but then, not many women in expensive clothes have pink and magenta hair.

"Henry, give me an honest answer. Do I look alright?"

He just looked at me bug-eyed and said, "What do you mean by alright? You look like a goddess.

I blushed and looked down. When I looked up he was examining me closely and said, "Although I would lose the pink in the hair." His twinkling smile let me know he was joking with me. The pink was totally bizarre.

I turned heads in the lobby of the International Arrivals terminal when I entered. At first, I was quite anxious about being stared at, but when I finally realized that nothing bad was going to happen to me because of it, I relaxed enough to find the people who were checking me out amusing. There was a wide variety of feelings reflected in their expressions: awe, lust, jealousy, amazement, curiosity and more. The variations seemed endless. I had never known there were so many different kinds of leers, but I had to give up studying people because it seemed that every guy whose eye I caught thought I was coming on to him. I quickly went into a demure approach, casting my eyes down.

I started to wonder which look would have been on John's face had he been there, but quickly dismissed that tack; it led nowhere useful. I was Jacqui and there was no going back, although I swore to get my hair color fixed the first time I had the opportunity.

Even with my chauffeur near me, the stares never let up, but I saw more curiosity than I think I would have without him. Was I some very rich Chinese actress? Well, actress wasn't a bad way to think of it, although I wasn't on the set of any film.

My interest in the crowd disappeared the moment I saw Kurt exit from the Customs inspection area pushing a cart laden with luggage. Though Henry rushed to assist, I remained where I'd been standing, my heart pounding in my chest. I was suddenly feeling very insecure, scared that Kurt would find me ridiculous. The fear stopped me from rushing through the throng between us. As they approached me, I saw that Henry and Kurt were engaged in conversation, and Kurt appeared agitated, if not angry.

"Why isn't she here?" I heard him demand. "I did make it explicit that I wanted to see her, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir. But..."

"Don't 'but' me, Henry! I've warned you before about how I feel about your back talk! Now be silent!"

"But, sir?"

"Henry!" Kurt bellowed his name so loudly, the terminal actually quieted somewhat.

Kurt stopped only a few feet from me. Because he seemed so angry, I remained quiet, now even more afraid to approach him. He faced Henry.

"Did you even telephone Jacqui? Answer me - yes or no?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what did she say?"

"Jacqui said she would be here, sir. And..."

"Just shut up!" Kurt was so angry I could see the artery in his neck pounding. He looked around and his eyes briefly passed over me as they scanned the terminal.

"Get a move on! Go fetch the car, Henry!" Kurt thrust out his arm with a finger waving toward the door.

Kurt muttered as Henry pushed the luggage cart out.

After stabbing the keys on his cell phone, Kurt placed it to his cheek and seemed lost in the phone as he wandered about.

"Melissa, this is Mr. Mark," I heard him say. "Please, I wish to speak to Jacqui?" He paused to listen. I looked into his blue eyes as they danced over me from just three feet away. Kurt started to chuckle then laughed aloud.

"I cannot continue the game longer," he was laughing and smiling broadly. "Come to me, Jacqui." He said that while stretching his arms to encircle my body. I was so relieved; I threw myself right into them. Kurt hugged me tightly for a moment before I pulled my face back and silently asked for a kiss. He didn't disappoint me.

"You are beautiful, my dear, just stunning," he said as he broke the kiss. The awe in his voice made it clear he wasn't exaggerating. "And your lips are simply delicious." He grabbed me again into a tight hug. "I've missed you," he whispered into my ear. "How have you been?"

"Lonely," I whispered back, not wanting him to hear my voice. "I missed you too." I felt very secure in his arms.

"You missed me so much your hair turned pink?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"Carla," was all I had to say.

"You can tell me about that later, Henry has already alerted me that something was going on. Do not worry, liebling, I will protect you, even if you insist upon having pink hair."

"Oh, God Kurt, just hold me. I've been so scared, but now I'm so relieved I'm not sure I can stand."

"I will hold you up. Do not worry. Come, let us get out of this horrid place." We walked out front with his arm about my waist, holding me close. There, he turned me so that we were face to face, and held me at arms distance with both of his hands encircling my waist.

As we stood at the door of the terminal, Kurt said, "Stand still, let me look at you again." He took a step back and gazed at me for a moment. "Your face is truly beautiful," he said with wonder in his voice. I started to melt. I had vowed that I was going to tell him about all the pain I'd been through, not the physical pain from the surgeries, but the mental anguish Carla had caused by stealing my life from me through her manipulations and fraud. Kurt cut me off by saying, "But the hair is a little too much, don't you think?"

I could only giggle in response. When I stopped, I said, "Please stop teasing me, I'm afraid I'm a little too fragile for it now."

"Well then," he said in reply nodding his head to indicate the teasing about my silly hair was over. "How do you like these then, Jacqui?" As he had moved back in front of me, he raised his left hand to my breast. Although it was somewhat flattened by my leather jacket, it was still obviously quite large. I blushed furiously and had to push his hand from my right breast.

"Not here, please?" I squeaked. His touch had thrilled me, but it was very embarrassing to be fondled in such a public place.

He withdrew readily, saying, "Later then?" I could only blush and say, "God Yes."

"Ah, you found her then, sir." Henry had a broad grin and winked at me while opening the door to the passenger compartment.

"Yes, I seem to have," Kurt chuckled. "She would be a hard one to loose, wouldn't she? Tell me, Henry, isn't Jacqui just the most beautiful woman you ever saw?" I blushed; he seemed serious.

"Yes sir, she is. I think the pink hair in front is an especially pleasing touch."

"Stop it, both of you. You're embarrassing me," I squeaked as I got in back and sat. Kurt settled beside me. As Henry pulled away, Kurt was staring at me again.

"Your voice is not what I expected, Jacqui." I glared at him, but said nothing.

"Are you angry?" he asked. My, he was being very perceptive!

"Yes," I continued to whisper.

"Why? You are truly beautiful."

"And I sound like a four year old!" I retorted. "Carla had no right to do this to me!"

Kurt continued to study me as we rode toward Manhattan. We both remained silent, thinking our own thoughts. I wanted to cuddle up to him, but was feeling intimidated and insecure.

After a few miles, he asked. "Where would you like to dine?"

I thought of saying 'McDonald's ®', but what would be the point? Looking as I did and dressed as I was, I'd be even more out of place in a burger joint than at a fancy restaurant.

"The best seafood place that you know of," I answered in my hateful squeak.

"Ah," he said brightening, "then we shall have breakfast in Portland, Maine. Would you like dinner before the drive, Jacqui?" He was joking, right? The fact that I wasn't sure whether he was joking showed just how insecure I was feeling.

"I'd like lobster, but between here and home. Perhaps we can enjoy it in Maine another time … for breakfast?"

He smiled then pulled me in for a kiss. I met his lips so gratefully that I frightened myself a little.

I moved my cheek to rest on his shoulder when we broke; it was nice. His hand covered my head as it rested there.

"This color won't run on my shoulder, will it?" he said, continuing to tease me. I just sat up and pouted at him. I wanted to be angry that he was making fun of my hair, but he had such an endearing look on his face I couldn't. In fact, he was starting to get tears in the corners of his eyes as he looked at me. 'What's going on?' I thought, starting to get anxious again.

"Jacqui, I never thought I could fall in love after Erica."

What? I started to rise off his shoulder, but he pressed me back.

"Lie still and listen to me," he said gently. His hand stroked my hair. I knew I'd never win any physical contest with him. I had discovered after getting home from the hospital that Melissa had been feeding me a cocktail of female hormones and testosterone blockers from the first day she had arrived. That was one of the main reasons she did most of the cooking. That, along with my tight corsets and the surgery, had turned me into a true weakling. I relaxed and lay still.

"Erica was the joy of my life, mon raison d'etre. She was a beautiful lady, but while I loved her dearly, I always admired a feminine beauty and physical grace, both of which had been denied to her.

‘What exactly was he saying?’ I didn't know where he was going, but it was obvious I was somehow involved.

"What are you trying to say to me, Kurt?" I hesitated, but had to ask.

"Erica had her spine broken on the Autobahn in a wreck caused by a drunk."

I didn't want to hear about that. "Where are we going to dinner?" I asked him, trying to stay away from what I feared would be an uncomfortable conversation.

"No," he went on, "I have to tell you. You are a graceful beauty, Jacqui. I find you irresistibly attractive."

"Kurt," I squeaked, "you're crazy. I look like a hooker and sound like Betty Boop on helium. Now where are we going to eat?"

I felt his chest silently chuckle against my face. "Okay, he sighed. You win for now, but I'm not giving up. I know a bistro near where the Fulton Fish Market was." He picked up the gosport and instructed Henry.

From the outside, the place looked like a dive. In fact, calling it a dive would have been a compliment; it was small, grimy, and dark. Its exterior belied the service and the food. 'Great' was not enough! The atmosphere within the candlelit confines was pure elegance.

"I would like a small steamed lobster with drawn butter and the smoked eel for an appetizer, please?" I asked after reading the single-page menu. Kurt stared blankly when I'd said that.

"Interesting. Do you know that most of the eel in Europe is imported from America, Jacqui?"

"I’ve heard that," I answered. Kurt was scanning the wine list still.

"None for me, remember?" I reminded him. He smiled in response.

"Ah, yes, 7-Up ®?" I nodded.

We both had the eel and it was delicious. I enjoyed my lobster, eating it slowly while Kurt feasted on a broiled seafood combo that I thought could have fed three, as huge as it was. I was enjoying the sensation of finishing a meal without feeling over stuffed.

"Dessert?" Kurt offered, "They've a very good selection."

I didn't think he actually expected me to order anything. I never had before. "Yes, I'd like something with enough chocolate in it to poison me. I haven't had a real dessert in many months."

"Kurt, let's get out of here," I said as I finished the last little trace of chocolate mousse off my spoon. If we hadn't been out in public, I would have shoved my tongue into the shimmery flute the mousse had come in. It was that good. "This was exquisite, but we're sitting way to far apart, and being close to you is what I want now." Throughout our meal, I had been thinking about how Kurt had touched my breast at the airport. I didn't dwell on how embarrassed I had been having my breast touched in public, as I might have done in June or July, but instead was having a hard time getting the sensations that had rippled through my body under Kurt's gentle touch out of my mind.

I wanted something when we left the restaurant. I wanted to explore the heat I felt deep inside from his touches and caresses, but troubling thoughts were clouding my mind and I couldn't resolve them. Once we had settled back inside the Rolls, I drew the curtains across the windows and adjusted the lights. Kurt was grinning when he saw me move to the rear facing jump seat.

"What are you doing, little maid?" he asked when I started to open the buttons of my fitted jacket.

Hesitantly, I began to tell him everything that had happened to me, beginning with my excessive plastic surgery, and on through the kidnapping from the hospital and the involuntary castration and unwanted SRS.

"Henry has already informed me of some of this Jacqui." He sounded troubled. "I wish I could have been here to protect you."

"I don't want to hear it!" I snapped in my stupid voice. I was trying to relay a confidence that my voice couldn't carry and I didn't feel. Once I had shrugged out of my jacket, I neatly folded it then set it on the adjacent cushion. For several minutes I neither spoke nor moved - I just sat and thought carefully about what I wanted to say while Kurt ogled my breasts, which were pushed up and exposed by the tight red leather corset. I sat straight up, holding my breasts thrust out in front of me.

"Do you realize what you are doing?" Kurt’s eyes were focused on my breasts.

It was a bit of a surprise to realize that I was unconsciously playing with my nipples. I continued and tried to arouse myself, putting on a small show as if I was a stripper in a cheap bar. I was angry at Kurt. He should have been there to save me.

"Fraeulein Jacqui, you are truly beautiful. I am sorry. What was done ist wrong"

I ignored him instead sat back up as straight as I could, now displaying my breasts, holding each one up as if I was offering them to him.

"Is this what you want Kurt? A freak? A Barbie Doll created by a vengeful woman to humiliate her weak, submissive husband?" I had no idea why I'd said that. Was I testing him? I had to be an idiot trying to drive the only person who could save me away.

"Jacqui, you are in pain. Do not make it worse with hateful words. They will do no good for you and they won't drive me away." He looked down and sighed. When he looked back up, there were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I do not want to lose you. It would break my heart in two to lose what I adore for a second time in my life." The tears began to trickle from the corners of his eyes to his cheeks.

"Please sit with me," he went on, reaching his hand out to me. "Let me show you my love. Allow me the chance to repair your hurt, which Carla has caused you to feel."

Could I refuse? No. His tears and my own need pulled me across the short distance, which I had created because of my own pain.

As soon as I had seated myself beside him, Kurt reached for my jacket and slipped it over my shoulders, although I didn't button it.

"Jacqui, one day I hope to enjoy your body fully, but not now. You are suffering and not thinking clearly. This is not the right way. Put your head on my shoulder and let me hold you. That is what you need now."

"Please," I pleaded with him. "Touch my breasts?" I took his hand and slipped it under my jacket, directing it to my breast. He held still for a moment and then started to caress me. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder and tried to open myself to the sensations.

My man, yes my man, started to fondle my breasts. Once upon a time, when Melissa had teased me about Kurt being my boyfriend, I had protested. Now my boyfriend was causing the most pleasurable sensations to course through my brain. I couldn't stop myself; I twisted in my seat and reached up to kiss him.

I was soft on his lips, not urgent. I nibbled and tugged on his lower lip and teased the top one with my tongue. He tentatively let his tongue out to explore mine. I encouraged him by pressing my lips more firmly against his and then seeking is tongue more aggressively. After a few minutes of this sweet, tentative exploration, a moan left my throat that surprised us both, but I knew just what it meant and dove into his kiss with all my heart.

Once he had held me with a threatening grip. Now, he was wasn't holding me at all. I was gratefully snuggled into his side, while his fingers, kneaded, squeezed, and caressed me. It was his affection that had a grip on me.

It felt frustratingly wonderful - wonderful because of the wild sensations his gentle hands sent pulsing throughout my entire being and frustrating because I was ready for him to be in me, at the center of my sex.

"Mmm ... that feels soooo good." My eyes were closed as I murmured. I took his hand and placed it over my vagina. "Touch me here Kurt. Let me know how a woman feels."

He allowed his hand to linger and to caress my gently through my skirt. But then he said, "Not tonight, liebling. I am tired and you are too eager. We must ease into this and make it beautiful."

Even though I was already writhing beneath his caresses, I sat up and looked at him. Didn't he love me? What kind of man would stop when a woman asks him to go farther? The look in his eyes and on his face was very clear. He adored me, but was worried about me.

As soon as he had seen that I understood, he put one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side with the other. I just sighed with contentment. Yes, I wanted to feel sexual arousal, but no, there wasn't really any rush. Actually, right then, feeling secure was much better. The little game I had played by flaunting my breasts at him had been pointless. I still wasn't sure what I had intended to accomplish, but it didn't matter. I had what I really needed anyway.

I had to change back into the outfit Carla had dressed me in before I could go back into the house. Needless to say, Kurt was flabbergasted. "She made you go out like that?" He asked in wonder. "Why does she hate you so?"

I just shook my head sadly as I sat by the car door, pulling the fake fur jacket over my corset. I still didn't understand the depth of Carla's anger or the lengths she had gone to for revenge. As I sat on the seat, my legs partly spread as I worked on my face, Kurt got down on his knees and stuck his face in my crotch. He nuzzled and kissed and even gave me a few little bites as I sat there with my arms out, startled by his actions.

"Jacqui, dear," he said looking up, "you will wear this for me sometime in the future. " It wasn't a question.

"I will?" I squeaked.

"Yes, you will. This screams sex and I must have some. I have never seen anything as sexy as these pants pulled so tightly across the space between your legs."

"You pig!" I squealed, grabbing his head in both hands and driving it back down into my vagina. "You men are all the same. You all want whores for girlfriends. A pair of big tits and skintight pants and you're behaving like a teenager in heat."

"Perhaps," he said looking back up at me, "but at my age, that's a pretty amazing feeling. But just remember, when it comes to protecting you, I'm no teenager. You have nothing to fear from here on."

I fell asleep in my bunk that night with fond memories of my evening. As I softly caressed my nipples with one hand and my pussy with the other, I imagined that it was Kurt who was between my legs and actually started to look forward the having him inside of me. I was still scared, but knew this was something I had to do. Not for him, but for me. It was one way 'little' Jacqui was going to become a real woman.

*****

It was still very warm during the third week of September, so Ms. Martin hosted another pool party. Nearly a hundred guests had been invited, many of whom I'd never met. The last minute cleaning and the preparation of the refreshments kept Melissa and me very busy throughout the week. I guess I was getting used to my new body, though my breasts still surprised me on occasion by getting in the way. I was growing increasingly unhappy with the chastity belt, which was terribly intrusive, making me aware of its presence, and therefore my status, at all times.

I had been rushing around as the party started and didn't see Kurt come in, but as I was serving a tray of shrimp toast to the guests, I saw him looking at me strangely. He waited until my tray was empty before approaching me.

"Guten Tag, Kurt. Wie gehts?" I smiled and curtseyed.

"Guten Tag, Magd Jacqui," he returned my greeting with a huge smile. "I am well." I moved closer and lifted my mouth for a kiss.

"You will make the others jealous," he teased.

I smiled up into his eyes. "Let them be. I am very fortunate that you are mine." Kurt hugged me to him and kissed me intimately.

"I must ask a favor of you, Kurt," I said after we had broken apart. "Ms. Martin asked me to request that you allow me to spend most of my time serving her other guests today, okay?" I asked.

"Yes, you seem busy. But first will you serve me a beer, bitte?"

"Certainly." I curtseyed and went to the keg to fill a glass for him. My nemesis, Jim Wilson, moved to intercept me. I had given my previous encounters with him some thought, and put my own plan into action before he could act on his.

"Hello, sir. I guess you'd like a kiss today?" I simply leaned into him and planted a noisy one right on his cheek. Apparently, his buddies had been watching us because they gave me a big cheer as I trotted over to the beer keg. I turned and gave them a bright smile and a big curtsey. My plan must have worked, because to my delight, he did not bother me for the rest of the day. After I served his beer, Kurt moved to mingle with the other guests.

I found myself strangely jealous as I watched him interact with the other women. I guess I wanted all his attentions for myself. I had hoped he would have rescued me from Carla by now, but he had convinced me to be patient. He thought it would be best to give his lawyers the opportunity to thoroughly review the phony medical files and forged passport Carla had given me.

Of course, he was right. Until we had Carla trapped, it would be best to do nothing. For the time being, the most effective course of action would be for me to remain as Carla’s maid. Reluctantly, I had agreed to act submissively and pretend that her hold over me was unshakable. Kurt gave me confidence that I’d eventually triumph; though right then, acting as a serving girl, I wasn't feeling very optimistic.

"Jacqui?" Carla interrupted my thoughts. When I looked over, she motioned for me to join her. She was talking with Dave Crawford, his wife, Judy, and Toni Bauer. "Come here, please?"

"Yes, mum?" Carla formally introduced me to people I'd known for years and who I had served then at the earlier parties.

"Jacqui, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford will be entertaining some clients at their home next Saturday and thought that it might be nice if they had a maid to serve so that they both could maximize their time with their guests," Carla said, as if explaining something complex to a child.

Dave took over. "They represent a Swiss company that is considering establishing a small plant in the area, Jacqui. We thought that having a gorgeous and exotic Chinese maid might add a little extra flair to our party and help win their account." Obviously, they thought that maid should be me.

"I've told Davy that I'd be happy to loan you to them for the weekend," Carla said, making my participation mandatory. It was obviously a done deal.

"Yes, mum." I wasn't very pleased to be loaned out like a piece of luggage.

"They'll only be there for the evening, but I'll need you to prepare for the dinner, serve it then clean up afterwards. You may use one of our spare rooms while you are there," Judy told me. It sounded like nothing but work, but that didn't bother me at all. Serving in the home of John's best friend did. This was obviously another ploy of Carla's to humiliate me.

As I listened to Judy talk, I realized that being away from Carla and Melissa was definitely a plus under any circumstances. The Crawford’s were sure to treat me better than those two.

"How many will be expected for dinner, mum?" Though Doctor Tobias had told me that my voice would become lower with time, it didn't seem to me that it had changed at all. I still hated it and felt humiliated when I heard it.

"There will be six besides my wife, me and Toni there," Dave explained. The situation just took a quantum leap for the worse. Briefly, I glanced at Toni who was grinning at me as if she had just won the state lottery.

"I'll pick you up about nine next Saturday and help you set things up, Jacqui." Toni grinned at me. She was obviously looking forward to this.

"Toni, she might need some help with her corsets and uniforms. Be a dear and do what you can for her there," Carla asked.

"Sure, Carla. It'll be my pleasure. You won't mind if I ask her to return the favor?"

Carla laughed. "Mind? Not at all. I swear, Toni, if I hadn't met some of your guys, I might think you were a lesbian." Carla joked.

"Well, I'll admit that with a doll like this," she nodded at me, "handy, I might just be tempted. But I really do prefer guys." Toni laughed brightly, making it into a joke.

"That will be all, Jacqui. Run along now and make sure my other guests are happy." Just like that, Carla had dismissed me. Her arrogant attitude, the demeaning way she treated me and the fact that she could loan out like an object, made me burn with resentment! The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that she would be soon getting her just rewards.

Melissa and I were kept very busy throughout the afternoon and early evening tending to the big crowd. By seven-thirty most of the guests had left. Kurt summoned me to his side and handed me a soda.

"I've been watching you work all day, Jacqui. You must be exhausted. Come, sit with me for a few minutes. Surely Carla will not object if you rest for a moment."

I didn't care what Carla thought, I was thankful to be off my feet and do just what Kurt suggested.

"I have tickets to the ballet at Lincoln Center next Saturday night. I would like you at my side," Kurt said as I sipped my soda.

"Oh Kurt, Thank you for asking me. I'd love to. I really would. But I can't." I tried to look as disappointed as I felt.

He scowled as he realized I was turning down his invitation. "I will have words with, Carla."

"Kurt, you promised me," I pleaded.

"I must serve at a party at the Crawford's next weekend. It's business." He thought about it for a moment and then waved Dave Crawford over to discuss my commitment.

Kurt told Dave about his problem, adding, "Perhaps you could use Carla's other maid, David?"

"Sorry, Kurt," Dave replied. "It doesn't matter to me, but my wife has her heart set on Jacqui and there's no way I'm even going to try to change her mind. You'll just have to make other arrangements, Kurt, sorry."

I'd have preferred the ballet; that was for sure.

Kurt was obviously very unhappy about this, so I took the opportunity to remind him that the sooner he got me out of there, the sooner he'd have my undivided attention. Then, before he left, I told him that I’d hidden my documents in a large envelop in the vanity of one of the downstairs guest bathrooms. He let me know he had it when we kissed good night.

"Look at it as broadening your resume, Jacqui," Melissa replied after I had told her about my job at the Crawford’s as we prepared for bed. "There is nothing like good references, and the more the better, when you apply for a job in our profession. A maid can never have too many." I looked at her sourly.

"Plus, it should help you with the Immigration and Naturalization Service too, when you’ve been here long enough to apply for citizenship." She laughed at me openly, mocking the false status she had helped to create.

"Thanks for your help," I replied sarcastically. "But I don't plan on being a career maid." Of course, arguing with Melissa about being a maid was pointless, and I knew it. It would be impossible to try to dissuade the First Girl from thinking that there was any better career for me.

"I'm sure you never did, but that doesn't change what you know is right," Melissa shot back, positive she was right. "Besides, I don't think uneducated immigrants have that many choices." I saw no point in arguing, so I said nothing even after she added, "And besides, you don't have a choice. You are Ms. Martin's maid whether you want to be or not!"

God, I hoped she was wrong.

Again, we had a few overnight guests, and when I cleaned her suite the following morning it became obvious that Carla hadn't slept alone. This saddened me less and less, because I realized that she was not my wife anymore. Still, I couldn't entirely suppress my feelings; perhaps one day they'd be gone. One thing was certain, however, I was never sleeping with Carla again. In fact, about the only thing I could do with her now was to compete with her for men.

Shortly after I had come down to with my first load of laundry, the telephone rang. Unless I was alone, Melissa was to answer it.

"Good morning, Ms. Martin's residence, First Girl Melissa speaking. How may I serve you?" I heard her answer.

"Good morning, Mr. Mark. Yes, she's here." Melissa came out of the office.

"Your boyfriend's on the phone," she told me, although she knew I already knew that.

"Guten Morgen, Kurt mit eine K."

"Hello, Jacqui. I'd like to take you to dinner tonight, since you cannot accompany to the ballet on Saturday. Six o'clock?"

"I'd love to, Kurt. Let me ask Melissa. Today is her day off and one of us is supposed to be here on duty." I set the phone down once he'd said he would wait.

"Melissa," I curtseyed, "Kurt wants to take me out tonight at six. Would you please switch your day off with me?"

"Sure, but it'll cost you. I'll be out most of the day anyway. I'll be back by four to give you time to get yourself pretty. In return, you give me your entire day off."

I pursed my lips and frowned. That wasn't fair, but I knew I had no choice. If I pissed her off or offended her, she could just as easily turn me down. "Thank you," I curtseyed, "you're a real pal." I tried to sound as if I really meant it, but I'm sure she was wondering if I was being sarcastic. After all, why should I be so pleased that she had just taken advantage of me?

"It's OK. Six o'clock. How should I dress, Kurt?"

"Nothing too fancy. I'm sure you'll look nice in anything you select."

I happily did my chores for the rest of the day, looking forward to my evening out, and having my chastity belt off, even if only for a few hours. Though I had Melissa for company most of the time, my life had become lonely since Carla cast me out and only treated me as her servant. We no longer communicated and since I couldn't trust Melissa, I didn't share anything important with her. With Kurt, I could share my thoughts and ... my body; being in his arms was more than just nice.

Looking through the rack that held my other wardrobe, (Melissa and I each had a separate one for all of our uniforms. In fact, Melissa had two), I looked for something I hadn't yet worn with Kurt. Though it was a bit young looking for my real age, I assembled a black wool mini and cashmere turtleneck. What to wear with them presented a small problem because none of my high heels looked right. I decided on my new black knee boots with five-inch heels that Henry had gotten me for the airport and black stockings. I knew I’d look sexy like that.

'Sexy?' is that how I wanted to look when I went out? Yes! I had two new goals. One was to enjoy being Jacqui. As sexy as I looked, it just wouldn't work for me to skulk around trying not to be noticed. In fact, I was pretty sure that's what Carla intended. She wanted me to be embarrassed looking like this, to leave a humiliated John in Jacqui's body.

What she didn't understand though, was that I really was Jacqui, and I was happy about it. What I had to do was to develop a more outgoing and confident style than I'd ever had before. I sure as hell didn't want to look like a hooker, but sexy was just fine, thank you. Besides, sexy girls have all sorts of advantages that can be used to their benefit. I would just have to learn how to do that.

My second goal was to share my body with Kurt. This was a new feeling for me and I was allowing myself to explore it for the first time. I figured I was sort of like a teenage girl, given my lack of experience with men, and so even though I was still full of doubts, I knew that thinking about sex with a man I was virtually in love with was natural. I would just have to overcome them, exactly the way any young girl who is about to make love for the first time does. In fact, I think the underlying anxiety made the whole thing more exciting! I felt daring. I couldn't wait to get my chastity belt off.

As she'd promised, Melissa returned about half past three and relieved me. She was thoughtful enough to offer to re-corset me so I could bathe.

"You do look sexy tonight, Jacqui," she commented when she saw what I was wearing.

How could I not look sexy, you twit, I thought to myself while smoothing the sweater over my seemingly gigantic breasts. Look what you and your sister did to me.

"You must be hoping to get lucky tonight. Have you and your boyfriend had sex yet?"

I laughed. "That's kind of personal, don't you think?"

"Yes, but I'm curious, anyway.

"No, we haven't had sex yet," I replied defensively. I immediately regretted having said anything at all. Melissa was not a friend, even though she often acted as if she were.

She giggled, "Not even by Bill Clinton's definitions?"

I said nothing, instead focused on my face as I sat before the vanity. That didn't stop Melissa though. She just went on, "We figured with you looking like the little slut you are, he’d have pumped your box as soon as he got you in the car last Saturday," Melissa laughed derisively.

"Well, I suppose any one of your dates would've had your legs spread before dinner," I said as huffily as I could. "But Kurt's a gentleman." I almost giggled when I recalled Kurt’s amusement as I redressed in that awful costume. Melissa didn't know about the leathers. Truth be told, they were no less sexy than the fringed top and leopard skin pants, but they were far less slutty.

"Well, just forget about getting laid tonight. Ms. Martin won't be home this evening, so you’re not getting out of your chastity belt. But still, even all locked up, there are other ways a girl can take care of her guy," she smirked.

A jumble of conflicting feelings washed through me. At first, I couldn't believe how disappointed I was to hear that my hoped for release wasn't going to happen. Damn! As soon as I became aware of that feeling, it was replaced, by a wave of relief as I realized that I wouldn't have to allow a man inside me just yet. Then just as quickly, I was angry that I would be wearing the belt at all.

Even though I’d been wearing the new chastity belt a much shorter time than my previous one, I hated it much more. Not that it was actually uncomfortable; it wasn’t, but the design was far more demanding and exerted greater control over me. I could never forget that I was wearing it. Combined with my tight corsets, it forced me sit in only a few different ways, all ramrod straight and upright. Hard seats were far more comfortable than the soft, deeply upholstered ones most people could enjoy. Thankfully, the seats in Kurt’s cars were firm.

The hip band so closely matched the contours of my corseted body that it was as if they were physically joined. To assure that any access was completely denied to me or anyone else, the belt also fit much more snugly through my crotch and there was practically no relative movement there. The much wider front shield spread my thighs further apart and I had to adopt a different gait, which resulted in a distinct hip swivel, which Melissa had quickly pronounced as extremely enticing. At first, I had been appalled that I would entice every male past puberty! When I saw how Kurt responded to it, however, I started to change my mind. No, I would never get lost in a crowd, so, even though it was easier said than done, I had vowed to be unashamed of my looks and how I moved.

That was the only good thing about this damn belt. When I’d used the toilet the morning after it had been locked on, I discovered, much to my chagrin, a feature I’d not seen when Melissa had first locked it on. Like my first belt, this one had been made with a fairly-large hole over my rectum. Quite unlike it, however, a spike was welded to the back strap. It extended halfway across the opening. Figuring out why it was there was a no-brainer. Not only was my pussy locked away, but no one would have access to my rear offering either. I’d never wanted to be used there, so I was thankful for the extra protection. Still, the spike presented a major obstacle to maintaining proper hygiene.

The worst refinement in this belt’s design however, was the parallel slots through which I had to pluck my labia every time the belt was closed after it had been opened so I could throughly clean myself; once a week under Melissa's close supervision. Carla had watched the first time only and had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that if I dared to give myself the slightest gratification during those times that the shield would remain locked for a month, with my largest stent inside of me. Melissa was diligent in ensuring I didn't play with myself.

Back when I'd still been John, the new maid, my daily hormone cocktail had prevented any sexual reaction once my penis had been encased in its steel tube. The new belt was different; it was specifically intended to induce a reaction in my new sex. Performing my chores caused my muscles to contract and relax and these movements constantly massaged my lips. Just walking did the same. Climbing on a stepstool or, worse, the stairs, created far too much friction for my comfort. Often I’d have to pause until the wave of sensation passed and I could again tolerate the stimulation. Melissa never failed to giggle or laugh if she saw me do this and sometimes added a humiliating comment.

"What is it, Jacqui? Are you imagining what sex is like with a real man?" or something equally caustic.

Having delivered her good news-bad news, Melissa left me to myself. Sitting before my vanity, applying my makeup, I started to think about what she was suggesting about my relationship with Kurt. Certainly, when I had first gone out with him, I refused to think about where it could lead sexually. God, I'd been totally phobic about the whole issue of sex. The first time he touched my breasts I flinched. I smiled to myself as, painting my lips red, I remembered that I certainly hadn't flinched the last time he had; I was squirming with pleasure.

For me, sex had never been the big deal that many people made of it. Carla and I had certainly engaged in it and had fun, but her defensive personality had not been conducive to becoming deeply intimate. She had behaved almost as if sex was a duty, or a chore, though she never withheld it or used it as a weapon. I suppose that being in bed with a guy who had tits didn't help much either. I shrugged; there was no point over analyzing that particular bit of history. The water was way over the dam by now.

How did Kurt feel about sex? I didn't really know. Would he need to get laid every night and twice a day on weekends? What would I do? Would I end up like Carla had been with me, doing it as a chore? God, I hoped not. I still couldn't really comprehend taking a man inside of me. The thought of me on my back with my legs spread wide to welcome him, just wasn't something I could imagine without flinching, despite my desire to make it happen.

Thank goodness Kurt actually arrived before I could become too carried away with that line of thought. He picked me up in the Audi that evening and drove us to a small, candlelit restaurant. Other than a couple of cafes and roadside dinners, I don't recall ever having been in a restaurant with only ten tables before. Only three others were occupied when we arrived.

I found that I could talk easily with Kurt. He took a great interest in what I did during my days and evenings, even when it had been nothing but routine chores. Never once did he ask anything about the previous the thirty-two years that had preceded my life as a full-time maid.

"So, how was it polishing the furniture today, Jacqui?" he asked after we'd ordered.

"Actually, I was assigned to dust everything in the library today," I replied. "I've found an old book on gardening that I want to ask permission to read."

"Must you have permission to do something like that?" he scowled. "You are an adult and live in that house." I placed my hand on top of his to calm him.

"Think about what you just said and what I am," I said as soothingly as I could. "In that house, I'm a maid, just a hired servant. How would you feel if the chambermaid at hotel where you were staying found an interesting book or magazine of yours and borrowed it to read when she was off duty?"

I cocked my head waiting for his reply, when he just nodded, I said, "Just as I thought. Well, just like that chambermaid, I know my place. I need permission to borrow Ms. Martin's books." It was obvious he understood, but he still seemed angry over it.

"Kurt, give me a kiss," I said to get his mind off it. We touched lips. "It's okay with me, so let it be okay with you too." I was pleased that he dropped the subject to again compliment my appearance. That was something I could deal with easily.

Instead of driving straight home, we drove out into the country after our meal. I had been thinking of what might be coming, as we rode in a comfortable silence. He pulled his car off the rode and parked overlooking a farm. I started giggling.

"What's so funny? Share your amusement, liebling."

"I feel like a seventeen year old about to neck with her boyfriend."

"Neck?" he asked. "What is neck?" Leaning over the console, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself closer to kiss him.

"It means this." My lips parted and I pressed them to his. Kurt responded warmly.

"This is never going to work." I said, sitting back up. "Why didn't you bring the big car?"

"What isn't going to work?"

"This small car. The damn gearshift is in the way. Time to get out." I was soon on his side of the car and opening the door. I still don't think he grasped my intentions.

"Come on, let's go over there," I motioned to a grassy knoll. Kurt smiled knowingly and leaned behind the seat to retrieve a blanket. He had obviously anticipated this. I guess he did grasp my intentions.

I knelt on the blanket once he'd spread it on the soft grass. Taking both of his hands in mine, I pulled him down to face me then hugged and kissed him again.

He placed his hands on my breasts and gently rubbed them through the soft knit. Even his large hands couldn't cover them. It was, I guess, a measure of how much I had changed since our first date in July that I had no intention of stopping him as he fondled me. Instead, I reached down and pulled my sweater out of my skirt to provide easier access.

Kurt didn't disappoint me. He put one hand under my sweater and around my back. Then he lifted me slightly so I could stretch out my legs, before laying me gently on my back, placing himself down on top of me without ever breaking our kiss. It felt absolutely wonderful to feel his strength as he eased me down carefully before letting himself settle on top of me. He probably outweighed me by eighty pounds, but I didn't find his weight oppressive. Instead, I found it comforting and reassuring and … somewhat to my surprise, exciting.

We kissed and he played with my nipples through the sweater. That wasn't enough for me; I pulled my head away from his mouth and said, "Please take it off." I sounded desperate and was slightly shocked at my neediness and my willingness to express it so aggressively. Confused by my feelings, I looked down shyly. There was no denying it, I wanted to feel his skin on mine. I looked back up. "Then you can play with them again. Please?"

He smiled at me adoringly, and it took him only a moment to pull the sweater over my head. Once he had; Kurt sat back on his heels and looked at me. My corset pushed the large mounds of my breasts up and together, creating deep cleavage. I still wasn't used to seeing it. The sight of my pale white flesh illuminated by a lustrous moon was simply breathtaking.

I was so caught up in the view that I let out a small gasp and looked up quickly when he touched me again. Looking up raised my face right to his lips, so I greedily lunged into a new kiss while I pushed my chest into his hands. I reached up and put my hands into the soft hair on both sides of his head, caressing him as best I could. I was in heaven, feeling like a real woman. He was certainly a real man.

After who knows how long, we lay side by side, looking up at the stars. Kurt started to talk about astronomy.

"Oh, shut up," I said, trying to sound angry, something my silly squeaky voice just wouldn't allow. "I don't want to talk about Galileo or anyone else."

"What do you wish to discuss then, Jacqui?" I propped my head up on my elbow and gazed into his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about anything, you silly man. Just shut up and lie still." I took as deep a breath as my corset allowed and moved my right hand to Kurt's belt. "Don't move," I ordered in a whisper. I hesitated for a moment, thinking about what I intended to do. After a moment, I nodded my head and proceeded anyway.

I lowered the zipper and parted his trousers. Kurt lifted his hips so I could pull them and his shorts down. Surprisingly, he was completely flaccid - there was no reaction, at all, to what I was doing. With just the tips of my long red nails, I traced lines slowly along the shaft. I tried to think of things that I had liked and did them to him.

Holding his penis in a firm, but gentle grip, I shifted my body to lay my cheek on Kurt's bare belly and then resumed teasing his cock. I giggled; one of my garden crew (had it been Emilio?) had said he'd been wrong to think I was a cock tease, but here I was, teasing Kurt's cock. Emilio's first guess was going to be wrong; little Jacqui was teasing this cock, but she had every intention of relieving the tension she created.

Yes, she was about to become a cock sucker too.

I let that thought linger in my mind to see how I'd react to it. Poor homophobic John would have felt repulsed and humiliated. He probably would have vomited if a penis had ever touched his lips. My response was relatively mild. This was something I had to do, that I wanted to do. It was how I could show my feelings for this wonderful man, who had become so important in my life.

One day I would let him penetrate me. I would lie on my back, spread my legs and ask him to stick his prick into my newly formed vagina in order to demonstrate my affection in the most primal way a woman can. I didn't know if I was ready for that yet, but it didn't matter. Even if I had been emotionally ready, I wasn't physically able.

Instead, I would do the next best thing, something any woman could do. I would satisfy him with my lips. Sucking a lover's cock wasn't a big deal for a woman and, if I was to be a woman, it couldn't be that big a deal for me either. It was absolutely the right thing to do. With that in mind, I started to lower my head.

"Liebling, stop." Kurt placed his hand on my forehead to push me away. I pushed back.

"Be quiet!" I ordered. I thought I sounded like a petulant six-year old.

Kurt's penis still wasn't reacting to me playing with it, although Kurt did give out an occasional faint moan himself. I pulled his prick up a little and shifted slightly, so I could kiss the tip. After I did that, parting my lips seemed natural, as did putting his penis into my mouth.

I began slowly to lick the penis in my hand; I sucked it into my mouth.

I hesitated for a second to think, while I lazily played my tongue around the head. How did I feel now that I had a penis in my mouth? It was Kurt's penis, which I held in my lips and I wanted to let him know how I felt about him. it was easy to tell myself that having him in my mouth was a good thing. I took bringing him off as a challenge, a thrown gauntlet, and proof that I was a real girl. Besides, this was something I wanted to give him. I began to suck in earnest.

Sucking on a cock was not the yucky, horrible thing I imagined it would be. To begin with, the penis itself wasn't at all like I thought it might be. It was velvety soft and warm. It smelled slightly musky, but also had an odor I couldn’t recognize. Perhaps it was Kurt's soap. I wasn’t sure. I didn't take time to focus on how it smelled or felt. I had a job I wanted to do and I wanted to concentrate on that.

I did everything that I could think of to get him hard. I even pumped my head up and down, letting his penis slide in and out as I went; I enjoyed doing that and Kurt moaned lowly while he stroked my arm and shoulder as I worked. There was simply no reaction from my target.

It took some time for me to admit defeat. I was feeling very frustrated and totally humiliated because of my failure. I moved to rest my head on Kurt's chest while I continued to toy with his penis with my nails. I didn't want him to see that I’d started to cry.

Despite my earlier rationalizations, I now knew that it had been a big, difficult step for me to give Kurt a blowjob. John never could have done it and it wasn't so long ago that I’d been John. The only way I could allow myself to suck on Kurt's cock was to totally negate any possible residual male identity left in me; my SRS had been so recent and so unexpected, that there was still plenty of male in me.

This hadn’t just been a blowjob, it was the symbolic final abandonment of John. Plus, it had never occurred to me that I might fail at such a fundamental act. That loss, mixed with the humiliation of not even being able to get Kurt hard, was too much for me.

"Kurt, do you want to tell me?" I softly sobbed.

"What is there to tell you, liebling?"

"How about what I was doing wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong. What you did was perfect, Jacqui." I slapped his stomach.

"What the hell did I do wrong?" My tears were now flowing freely down my cheeks.

"You did nothing wrong. It's me."

"Kurt, don't argue with me. I couldn't satisfy you. I couldn't even make you hard."

He lifted my shoulders off his chest and pulled me up so he could kiss me. I could see his face fall when he saw my tears and he gently kissed them from my cheeks and eyes.

"Listen to me," he said in an urgent whisper. "You did nothing wrong. Three years ago, just before I lost Erica, my prostrate was removed after years of chronic infection. I was a lucky man that it was not cancer."

He heaved a big sigh and I cocked my head slightly to look into his face as gently as I could. Seeing that, he went on. "I had hoped I would be able to respond to your wonderful kisses, licks, and caresses, but as you can see nothing happened. I'm afraid that's the way it is, Jacqui. I'm so sorry to disappoint you."

I didn't know what to say. I couldn’t even imagine what my face must have been revealing, because my thoughts were chaotic. I was sorry for Kurt, disappointed that I would never get to have sex with him, and at the same time incredibly relieved that I wouldn't have to have sex with him. At the same time, I couldn't believe that there was nothing his doctors could do, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to push him into further treatment because I didn't know what I really wanted.

Well, I knew I wanted to have an orgasm again sometime in my life. I hated the idea that Carla might have stolen that from me. I had no idea how to relate to my new vagina as an erogenous zone. I was terribly confused.

"Kurt," I started, "I'm so sorry for you, but I have to tell you the truth. I feel very relieved. I didn't know if I was ready for this, but I really wanted to do it for you."

"Oh," he cut me off, "you can suck on my penis any time you want. It was delightful." He gave me an endearing smile. "Just don't count on anything happening to it." Now his smile was rueful.

What could I say? His penis seemed so harmless now. It wouldn't be the instrument of my deflowering after all. "Well, the one thing I learned tonight is that I can," I said. "I wasn't sure."

"But you know what I really want?" I smiled up at him from under my eyelashes.

He raised his brows as if to ask "What?"

"Kiss me," I said, as I turned my body so I was on top of his and then waited for him to reach up and pull my lips to his, which took only a heartbeat.

Freed from the fear that had accompanied me earlier in the evening, I now felt ravenous for his affection. I kept him on that blanket with me for quite a long time.

End of Part VII

_______________________________________________________________

Jacqui

By

Karen Anne Summerfield and Kelly Ann Rogers
 © August 2002

Part VIII — Loaned Out

"I've set out the uniforms I want you to wear this weekend, Jacqui," Ms. Martin told me while sitting down for her dinner on Friday. "Ask the First Girl to look over everything that you pack to assure you'll have all you'll be needing. Toni is going to pick you up about nine o'clock."

"Yes, mum." What else could I say? She would never listen to my thoughts about this, much less change the plans.

"That should do it," Melissa said as she closed the third case the following morning. I thought I would be taking enough uniforms for a week instead of a weekend when we set the luggage outside in the driveway before going back in to prepare breakfast for our mistress.

Toni arrived just on time. She greeted me then requested Carla.

"Ms. Martin left to go shopping, I believe. Perhaps you'd like to check with Melissa. She would know for sure," I told her.

"It wasn't that important." She glanced about the kitchen as if looking for something."

"Make me a cup of tea, Jacqui." Miss Bauer sat in the breakfast nook, staring at me. I could only obey and moved to start the kettle, before getting a cup and saucer, which I placed on a tray.

"I want you to know something as this weekend starts. You serving this dinner wasn't my idea. Carla convinced Judy Crawford after she'd objected, I don't think that she likes the idea of another woman running her kitchen. Dave didn't go for it at first either, but Carla was able to bring them all around."

She let me stew about that, not saying another word until I curtseyed to place the tea before her.

"Clean those up and meet me at the car," Toni directed after finishing her tea.

My bags were on the backseat when I came outside.

I'd been to the Crawford's house many times before and had met their two daughters: Shelly, seventeen, and Ashley who was two years younger.

"Wow! Mom wasn't kidding when she said we were having a real maid this weekend," Ashley said.

"Hi, Ms Bauer. Is she yours?" Shelly asked while I straightened my uniform after getting out of the car.

"Hi, girls. No, she belongs to your dad's and my boss, Ms. Martin."

"Kewl, I didn't know Carla had a maid."

I didn't anticipate that the girls would be home, but then, where else would they be?

"Shelly, Ashley, this is Jacqui. She'll be our maid for the weekend." Miss Bauer introduced me.

"Now Jacqui has a lot to do for the guests your parents are having over tonight, so try to limit your demands. If both of you are good, I'll see that Jacqui will do your laundry and clean your rooms before she's returned tomorrow." Seeing the slightly nasty smile on Miss Bauer's face made my heart sink.

"I know that you'll want to choose to do that for the girls, won't you Jacqui?" I was trapped.

"Miss Bauer, is Jacqui really Chinese, she sure looks it?" Shelly asked.

"Yes," was her monosyllabic answer.

"Then how did she get so big? Chinese women are short and they have little titties." She blushed and giggled after she said it.

I blushed and giggled too. I wanted to say something funny, but I didn't want them to hear my voice.

"Now leave her alone. As I said, she has a lot to do before tonight."

I carried two of my bags inside, following Toni, who carried the other one. She entered through the kitchen, not even pausing to knock.

"Judy, Dave, we're here," she called out, as she headed up the carpeted stairs.

"Master suite is there, those are the girls' rooms," she pointed out. "That's a linen closet, my room is there and you are in here." She went into a nicely furnished guest room. "We'll share the adjoining bathroom. Leave your door unlocked so I can help you as much as I can.

"Here," she extended her key ring. "Fetch my bags in the trunk and bring them up." After a moment's pause, she said "Please." I did as I was told.

The girls were still outside.

"Are you really going to clean our rooms before you go, Jacqui?" Ashley asked.

"Yes, mum. It will be my pleasure." Saying mum to her didn't even phase me. I remembered how embarrassed I had been the first time I had to address a teenager that way, the night Carla took Melissa and me out to dinner right after I had agreed to her plan to turn me into a maid. Had I been that stupid, or was she just that clever?

Hearing my voice and watching my curtsey gave them giggle fits.

"Hi, Jacqui," Mrs. Crawford greeted. "Thanks for coming. I realize I really do need a professional's help with this." That was encouraging. I hoped I was up to her expectations. I hardly considered myself a professional at this.

"Good mornin' mum. I'm happy to help." She motioned me up the stairs and followed me into Toni's room.

"Hi, Toni. While doing the shopping yesterday, I came to realize how much we still have to do. Thanks for talking Carla into loaning us one of her maids.

"My pleasure. I'm sure your husband has explained how important this dinner is." Toni paused to look at me.

"Don't just stand there like an airhead, Jacqui. Start putting all my things away and take a few minutes to get your things in order too, girl." I flushed with shame as she turned back to Mrs. Crawford.

"Tell me the menu and what else you've planned, Judy.

"Listen up, Jacqui."

I stopped unpacking.

"I bought a standing rib roast. Can she cook?"

"Yes. Go on?" Mrs. Crawford outlined the menu for the dinner and the appetizers. It was going to be a five-course meal. I moved to face Toni after Mrs. Crawford went back down stairs

"Mum?" I curtseyed. I didn't like the way she was treating me, but I was more worried about having this party go right. Carla would kill me if it didn't.

"What?" Her face seemed to reflect the concern I felt.

"The downstairs is a mess. You saw it. I saw it. I can just see her saying to her family, 'Leave the house a mess and the maid will attend to it.' There is no possible way I can prepare that meal and clean the house in time. Melissa couldn't even do it and she is good!"

Toni grimaced. "Look, you do this every day; what can I do to help you best? The cleaning?"

I could tell she was really sincere and I'd had a few meals that she’d prepared. If it wasn't microwave ready, you could forget about it being even marginally edible.

"My pinafores are in my gray bag. If you're going to clean, you might want to put one on. I'll get started in the kitchen."

I was still busy in the kitchen, after having thoroughly cleaned it, when Toni came in.

"I'm bushed, but the downstairs is done. How much more do you have to do?"

Her hair was matted from perspiration and her makeup had smeared a little; she must have been working hard. I smiled slightly to myself, glad that she was sharing my ‘experience’.

"I'll be done soon, mum; why don't you run up and take a bath. Be sure to wash your hair; it's soaked with perspiration. I'll be up shortly to help you." She looked at me questioningly then shrugged her shoulders and left.

I entered the bathroom to see how she was doing just as she stood in the tub, fully uncovered. She made no effort to hide her nudity as I held a towel open for her to cover her.

Instead of stepping into it, she took it from my hands and said, "I'll tend to myself. You go get yourself cleaned up, do your face, and dress in your Chinese uniform."

"I'll need your help to do my corset, I'd like a bath too, please?" I emphasized my request with a curtsey.

Despite never having worked a set of laces before, Toni had me naked to my steel belt in a few minutes. She stared at it for a moment, but didn't say anything, merely motioning me to the bathroom.

Once clean, dried and powdered, I slipped on my silk corset liner, got the corset under the steel hip band of my belt and hooked its bust. After smoothing up my stockings, straightening their seams and gartering them, I buckled on the patent ankle straps of my six-inch pumps and went to her room for help lacing my corset down to the twenty inches needed for me to fit into my uniform.

"I must tell you, I'm impressed with you," Toni said as she tugged at my laces. "I never worked so hard. Could you have finished cleaning downstairs?"

"Yes, but no way I could do both. I had all I could do to get things done for dinner. I couldn't have done both, mum."

"Can't you lace your own corset?" she asked as she took out the slack.

"I've learned to do it. It's just, with these nails," I held up my hands for her to see, "it's a lot easier if someone else does it and then I don't have to worry about breaking one," I explained. I had lost so much weight and my waist was so well trained by now, that Toni didn't have to work too hard to get me under twenty inches.

"Need help with anything else?"

"No, thank you mum." She followed me into my room and sat on the bed as I started to do my makeup.

"I want to apologize to you, Jacqui." I turned to look at her.

"Work on your face. I don't mind talking to your back." She twirled her finger directing my attention back to the mirror.

"I was going to make this weekend more than a bit difficult for you - a bit of pay back, I suppose. I was wrong to even think that and I want to tell you I'm sorry."

"You know, Jacqui, you have really changed and I'm not talking about your face and voice either." I just listened and concentrated on gluing my lashes in place. "I mean that you're a different person than the one I used to know. I believed that story that Carla made up about John having a breakdown, everyone did. We'd all seen it coming for months before it happened. I think that you were the only one at the office who didn't see what you were doing to yourself."

"I look at things a lot differently now than I did before, mum."

"Will you stop calling me, 'mum'! Address me as Toni, please?"

"I don't want be argumentative, but when we are with the others, I will continue with 'mum', Toni. I'm just a maid and it would be totally improper if I did otherwise."

"Yes, of course," Toni agreed.

"Does it bother you at all?"

"Does what bother me?"

"That Carla forced you to look and behave as a very submissive woman. What hold does she have over you that she could put you in such a degrading status. You're not just a woman, but her maid?" I set down my lipstick brush and turned to face her.

"In the beginning, it appeared to be love," I forced a small smile. Toni shook her head 'no'.

"I see you don't believe me. Ms. Martin did not force me to be Jacqui. Jacqui has been part of me since I was born. I grew up in the wrong body, but I was too afraid of how society would react if I ever let Jacqui out. I think a lot of John's problem was that he could no longer let Jacqui out. He lost trust in everything including me."

"As to my being a maid," I continued, "until recently, I didn’t feel it as degrading at all. It was actually therapeutic. Do you feel degraded by being a secretary, Toni?"

She vigorously shook her head no and said, "But it's different, you used to be the CEO of your own business. Now you’re the maid to that business's new CEO. That's a long way to fall."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Toni, you must understand. Being a maid is how I rescued myself from a thoroughly self-destructive lifestyle. It wasn't just work, I was an alcoholic as well, but I haven't had a drink since I began this," I opened my arms to indicate myself, "last spring."

Now she shrugged her shoulders in agreement, and merely said, "OK."

I could see that she didn't fully believe what I was saying. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, it was a lot to swallow. I just said, "It's a profession and I've worked very hard to be good at what I now do. I don't drink and any threat of a nervous breakdown is long gone."

I really didn’t want to get into it any further with her. Certainly, things were much different since my forced surgeries and nothing could be done to change that. Thank goodness for Kurt, who'd convinced me that dwelling on circumstances beyond my control would only make me depressed. If I was come out of this with my sanity, I needed to think positively. He’d told me that his legal team felt I could win and had provided me with hope that everything would eventually be a lot better and might not take too long at all.

Toni ended it, much to my relief. "Look, I want to continue this, but we're running out of time and I've got to get myself ready." she stood.

"I only need about five more minutes," I said. "If you'd like, I'll help you get ready once I'm done." I turned back to the mirror, resumed putting on my lipstick and did not see her reaction.

I heard her leave then call back from the bathroom, "When you are ready, I think that I'd like your help, Jacqui."

Once I was properly uniformed, I curtseyed to her and reached to remove her robe.

"Do I need to talk you though this?" she asked. "No, I've a better idea. Do what you'd like. Make me pretty for tonight, Jacqui," she giggled. Having put all of her things away earlier, I knew what I'd like to see on Toni. Without hesitation, I started to assemble her ensemble.

Spreading a black thong I had been surprised to find in her lingerie collection, I knelt so she could step into it. She gave me a curious smile when she first saw me open it for her, but giggled and wiggled her ass when I adjusted it through her crotch. Sheer black pantyhose were next, and then a lacy bra.

"What are you doing?" she asked as I readjusted the straps once I'd settled her breasts in its cups.

"I think you'd look a little better if these were a little higher," I answered.

"Mind if we use my makeup tonight. I'm more familiar with it?"

"No, you've free rein," she responded as she seated herself at my makeup table. She hardly ever wore even minimal makeup before, which I'd always considered a mistake.

"Turn around please, I can't do this in the mirror, mum."

Fifteen minutes later, I let her see what I'd achieved with blended eye shadows, eyeliner, mascara, blush and coral lipstick. Her broadening smile indicated that she liked it.

"Remember I said to you that if things didn't work out between you and Carla, you should look me up, Jacqui?" I nodded that I had. "I think I could quickly get used to having you around. I do like what you did."

"Do you think you could afford me, mum?" I teased. "After all you're only a lowly secretary." I smiled to show I was joking. She was an elite executive assistant John had stolen from a large corporation. Still supporting a maid would be a big stretch for her.

"Oh, I have no intention of paying you," she teased back. "You'll like being with me so much you'll pay me to stay." With that, she put her hand firmly over my steel covered crotch and rubbed it a little.

"You know that's not what it used to be," I said, frowning.

"All the better," she replied with a wicked grin. "Now let's get cracking."

She pushed me towards the bedroom door and I went down to the kitchen to check on dinner while Toni finished getting dressed.

"Jacqui, get me a martini, please," Mr. Crawford said as I entered the living room where he was watching a golf match on the TV.

"Yes, sir." Having mixed him drinks as john numerous times before, I almost forgot myself and started to move for their liquor cabinet. "How do you like it, sir?" He told me his preferences and how his wife liked her cocktail.

"Here you are, sir." I delivered it on a silver tray.

"Sir, how many will there be for dinner?" Though I'd been told the previous weekend, I didn't know whether that included his daughters or not.

"Nine, the girls will be spending the night with their friends. Thanks for my drink." My former friend stared right at the exposed tops of my breasts as he took the glass and didn't take his eyes off them even as he began to sip it.

"One more question, please?" I interrupted, curious to see if he would look up at my face. "What time would you like dinner to be served, sir?"

"Seven will be fine," he said, finally lifting his face away from my chest to look at my face.

"You are a doll, aren't you?" he said, absently, "a real China Doll. How did you learn to speak English so well?"

I really didn't want to discuss anything with him, but didn't know how to avoid it. I stuck to the biography Carla had devised for me. "My mother was Chinese, but my father was Canadian," I said softly, dropping a bob and trying not to sound too squeaky. I didn't volunteer anything else, hoping he would just leave it alone.

"Hmmph," he said, taking in my body once more with his eyes. "With a body like yours, you're crazy to just stay as a maid."

"It's all I know, Sir. Ms. Martin sponsored my coming into this country to be her maid. I have a contract.

"Just crazy," he said again, turning back to the screen.

Obviously having been dismissed, I went to the kitchen; slightly appalled with the way Dave had turned me into an object. There was a lot still to do and I didn't dwell on it. I checked on the oven and started to get to work. As I had planned, I had just enough time to cook the roast.

While Toni had cleaned the entire downstairs of the house, except for kitchen, which I'd done, I had ironed the table linens and polished the silver service in addition to getting all of the food prepared. I silently thanked Melissa for teaching me as much as she had during the previous months.

"How are we doing?" Mrs. Crawford asked when she came into the dining room where I was finishing the table.

"Fine, mum. I've everything under control."

"I certainly hope so." Mrs. Crawford inspected my work carefully then went into her kitchen to check on things there. "Yes. Everything looks good." She opened the china cabinet to remove a small hand bell; which she rang.

"This was a wedding present and I've never had occasion to use it before." She sounded so proud of herself. "When you hear someone ring, come in and attend to them. Otherwise, your place is in the kitchen."

"Oh, I want you to get the door too, when our guests arrive."

"Yes, mum." I curtseyed. With a last glance at the table, she left.

For some reason, I grew very nervous while waiting a half an hour for the door chimes to ring. When they did, I hurried to the door, opened it with a smile and dipped a proper curtsey.

"Good evening. Welcome to the Crawford residence. Please, come in?" When I heard their heavy French accents, I was relieved that I'd not followed through with my earlier thoughts of greeting them in German. I had forgotten that a substantial portion of Swiss spoke French as their first language. Each of the men had presents and I left the room to return with my tray and stood on the side, waiting.

The men, in ties and sports jackets appeared to range in age from their mid-thirties to late forties. Two of their women were roughly their age, but a very attractive blonde with the oldest man seemed young enough to be his daughter. She wore a green velvet cocktail dress over an obviously corseted torso and sandals with six-inch heels. I realized that this was what I must look like when I'm with Kurt, our huge age gap would be very obvious.

The gifts, which included two bottles of wine, were placed on my tray after they had been properly presented to Mrs. Crawford. After opening the box of Swiss chocolates, she told me to place it on a side table.

"Jacqui, attend to our guests refreshments," Toni ordered.

"La soubrette est corsettent, Pierre, the young blonde said to her husband, "Je pense que cinquant-trois centimetres." I did not correct her error of over an inch.

"Elle est tres jolie, Angelique." I smiled, understanding his compliment and she caught it.

"Parlez-vous la francais, soubrette?"

"Qui, Madame, je peu la parle une peau." I curtseyed.

"C'est Mademoiselle, pas la Madame," she corrected. All of the guests smiled and nodded when they heard I could speak a little of their language.

I was kept busy serving drinks and appetizers until it was nearly time to serve the meal. At the same time I tended to the preparations for dinner. Toni occasionally came in to check that everything was going as planned.

"Is Mr. Crawford going to carve the roast, mum?" I asked.

"I'll check. Otherwise, it's up to you, Jacqui.

"You know you are a big hit with the guests? That blonde wants to take you back home with her."

"That's nice," I smiled. "But my visa doesn’t permit me to leave the country and I doubt Ms. Martin would approve."

"What would you do if she made you an offer you couldn't refuse?" Toni quipped. "Maybe you could just run away with her."

Maybe I could, I mused, wondering how I would feel if I didn't have Kurt to look out for me.

Other than hard work, the evening went well. After things settled down, once I had served coffee, tea and after dinner drinks, I started doing the dishes. Even though they had a dishwasher, just as Carla had, Melissa had forbidden me to ever use one as 'they chip the crystal and scratch the China'. My rubber-gloved hands were immersed in soapy water when I discovered that Angelique was by my side.

"Jacqui, I want you to come home with me when I return to Geneva," she said in French.

"I'm sorry, mum. I can't," I replied without taking my eyes off the dishes.

"I will offer you a contract for eighty-five thousand Swiss francs per year plus your expenses. It is nearly impossible to find good servants in Europe today. The only domestics there are from India, Turkey or other poor nations." Not that I was going to emigrate to Switzerland to be her maid, but I was curious about of her offer.

"What would be my duties, Mademoiselle?" I asked her.

"I want you as my personal maid, other than attending me and serving my guests when I entertain, that would be all. I do a lot of entertaining in my profession," she giggled. I had guessed, apparently correctly, what Angelique really was. "I employ a full staff to keep my chalet clean, do my laundry and perform the maintenance."

"I have commitments here, Mademoiselle, but thank you for your most generous offer." This time I straightened up and turned to face her, careful to keep my wet gloves over the sink.

She smiled at me. "My offer will remain open to you until the end this year." She took a business card from her purse then parted my cheongsam to slip it under my stocking top. "That has my telephone, fax, URL and e-mail addresses. Even if you decide to decline, I would love to hear from you, soubrette."

I went back to washing the dishes. There would be time later to read her card.

When I had finished in the kitchen, it was past ten o'clock and the guests had departed. Toni found me in the dining room putting the silver away.

"You did a good job today. Thank you." She started to help and we soon had finished the last of the chores.

"Come upstairs. We'll get ready for bed." As tired as I was, I didn't refuse.

"Your bed is bigger than the one in my room, we'll sleep here, OK?" Toni had unzipped her black dress and slipped it from her shoulders.

'Just like that', I thought. Toni obviously was intent on winning me over.

"What's this?" Her fingers plucked Angelique's card from my thigh. "Maitresse Angelique? My, my, Jacqui. She offer you a job in her dungeon or what?"

"Angelique did offer me a job, fifty thousand dollars a year plus expenses, but said nothing about any dungeon." I pretended not to have guessed her profession. "How do you figure she is that kind of a girl?"

"It says so right on her card. 'Maitresse Angelique, By appointment only, The Best Dungeons in Switzerland'. Are you thinking of taking her up on her offer?" We were both laughing.

"I don't think so - whips and chains just aren't me.

"Do you think the guy she was with is a client?" I asked.

"Beats me; the way he showed her off, he acted more like her lover. The other two women never talked to her once and their husbands limited their conversation to just polite replies." I turned down the covers once I'd finished in the bathroom.

"Are you wearing your stockings and corset to bed?" she asking, seeing that I still had them on.

"I always sleep in one of my corsets. I thought the stockings might be nice tonight." I smiled at her shyly.

"Might be nice. I never went to bed with anyone wearing them or a corset and steel panties either. Get in and lie on your back," Toni held the covers up for me. "I prefer to be on top." She wasted no time sucking my nipple into her mouth.

Almost two hours later, we lay spooned together. "Anyone ever call you, 'Toni the Tigress'?" I asked as she cupped my breasts, continuing to play with them even though we were both exhausted.

"No. I’ll tell you this though; Toni the Tigress is not letting her little sex kitten go. You can look forward to me getting my claws into you the future, Jacqui," she murmured before falling asleep.

In the morning, Toni had me lick her to a final orgasm before letting me out of my corset to take a bath. I put on a clean day uniform then completed her toilette before we went downstairs to a still quiet household. I made tea and breakfast, for both of us. Toni invited me to sit with her to eat mine.

"Are you happy, Jacqui?" she asked.

That was a simple question, but I had to be careful. I couldn't let her know that I planned to escape Carla's clutches as soon as possible. "Reasonably. I'm a lot happier actually than I was in my old job, as surprising as that may sound.

"Why do you think I should be surprised about that? I'm not. Yesterday, despite working your cute ass off and being ignored by almost everyone, I watched you smile more than in the previous four years that I've known you, put together.

"You really seemed happy to be serving the dinner. Despite the fact that the guests directed all their compliments to Judy. Everyone must have known that you’d done all the work and should have gotten the credit for it.

"Tell me something." Toni paused to meet my eyes, "Would you have tried to fuck me in bed, if you weren't all locked up?"

"That’s no longer possible," I stated flatly.

"What do you mean?" she replied, obviously not understanding. "That thing has got to be a real pain in your crotch. I don't understand why Carla keeps it locked on."

"I'm not going there," I forced myself to smile. "Let me tell you what I was thinking last night.

"I wanted to make love to you as another woman and for you to do the same with me. You're a terrific lover and last night I came as close to coming as I have in five months. It was great even if I didn't have an orgasm. I loved it when you did."

The click of Mrs. Crawford's shoes as she approached the kitchen stopped our conversation. I cleared the table.

"Good morning, mum. Would you like coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." she sat in the chair I'd just left.

"How do you think everything went last night, Toni?"

I was ignored again as they began to discuss the guests. Being thought invisible really bothered me at times.

It was past noon when Toni found me cleaning Shelly's bedroom.

"I just looked in the other room, you are really amazing! I was just teasing you about having to clean for the girls."

"Sheezh, now that I'm nearly done, you tell me!" I teased her and I continued to make up the bed with fresh linens. "I should be finished with the laundry in about half an hour, but I'll need a couple of hours to iron their clothes."

"What's this about laundry and ironing?" Mrs. Crawford stuck her head in the doorway and gasped loudly.

"Oh my god! Her shocked expression matched her surprised tone of voice. "You didn't have to do all this, Jacqui."

"You hired a maid for the weekend. Ms. Martin would have been very upset if I had just idled away my time, mum." I smiled, amused by the shocked look on her face.

"No, but..." That was all she could manage.

Mr. Crawford was engrossed in football on the television as Toni and I passed through, heading for the basement. I stopped and curtseyed, but he acted as if he didn't see me and probably had not. Before going to the laundry room, I poured him a beer, filled a bowl with nuts and delivered these on a tray.

"Thanks, dear." He looked up and visibly jumped. "A ... Thank you, Jacqui. I thought you were my wife."

"What? Flirting with the maid?" Mrs. Crawford joked as she descended the stairs. "She's only been here a day, too.

"Dave, next commercial, take a minute to go look what she did in the girls' rooms. You won't recognize their caves." She smiled at me.

"Thank you, Jacqui."

"My pleasure, mum." I curtseyed then continued to the laundry room. Toni had already started folding their clothes.

"Those are Ashley's. That's her basket on your right." I moved to the shelves where I'd seen the iron then plugged it in.

"Were you serious about helping, it's not necessary, Toni? That's what I'm here for."

"Yes, I was serious. Besides, you were here to do dinner last night and that was all. I never intended for you to clean their house and do the dirty laundry. I got you into this and I'll help you finish." I went upstairs and brought back the iron that was in the pantry.

"In the car yesterday, I was teasing you about making you clean my apartment. I want to make it clear that I was joking." Toni told me.

"I really don't mind if you arrange it with Ms. Martin. It will give me an opportunity to get out of the house, for a change." Then I had an idea. "Why don't you see if you can get her to give you the key to my chastity belt as well?" I giggled.

"I think I will," she said. "And I think I know how to convince her to give it to me as well."

As we worked together, ironing the clothes, we talked like old friends, which I guess we were. Toni began to ask me some of the questions I'd asked of Melissa about her outlook on her career. As I answered them, with a combination of Melissa's own statements and my own new perspectives, I realized how much I had changed.

"You know, Jacqui, watching you last night, working with you today and now listening to you, I think I'm falling in love with you. I never thought I could say that to another girl. Last night, when I climbed on top of you, I was still thinking that I wasn't doing it with another woman and that made it OK. Before falling asleep, I realized I wasn't in bed with a guy at all, despite what you have under that horrid chastity belt." Toni took a deep breath.

"You ever think of having sex with a guy?" She seemed hesitant as she asked that.

"Yes, but not like I think you are asking me." Her look questioned me to expand on what I had said.

"John thought that having sex with another man was repulsive. I'm Jacqui, not John. Jacqui's a girl. By the way, I'm a girl, not a woman." I giggled. "I think there's a difference."

"Well," Toni said, "you certainly look like you're only about twenty-one. Your surgeon must be brilliant."

"So, what does Jacqui think about having sex with a guy? Just tell me if it's none of my business. Have you had sex with Kurt?"

"We've kissed and fondled - petted, if that word is still in use. My chastity belt assures my behavior down there. You found that out yourself last night. Kurt hasn't been in me."

"Is that because you won't let him?" Her question caused me to laugh again.

"Nope. After his prostrate surgery, Kurt's impotent as they come and has no physical need or desire." I shrugged. "It's a moot point, but if he'd wanted me to, I would have satisfied him.

"You mean you would have let him in your back door?" Toni asked.

I suddenly realized that she didn't know that I'd had SRS. I didn't know how to react and my confusion must have shown on my face.

Toni picked it up instantly and stared at me waiting for me to say something. When I didn't, she did.

"You mean…" She gasped. "You've had the surgery?" she blurted out, once she had caught her breath. She immediately covered her mouth with her hand as if her hand could stop her mouth before it said anything else, but … it didn't work. She couldn't contain herself.

"I had no idea! When? How?"

"Shush," I said to her, putting my finger to her lips. Once she had calmed down, I went on. "It was done right after the plastic surgery. I thought I was going in for some minor changes, so it wouldn't be so easy for people to see that I was John. This is how I came out. Carla did it."

"Oh my god! John are you okay?"

"It's Jacqui, Toni. Yes, I'm okay. I refuse to allow my life to be ruined over this. I am and will be Jacqui. I will live a good life. I've spent all the time I ever intend to mourning about what happened to me. That's water over the dam."

"Oh hell, let's finish this up and get out of here."

We only had a little bit left to do and finished it quickly.

"Okay, that's the last of the ironing," I placed the last of Ashley's blouses on a hanger, unplugged the irons and folded up the ironing boards. Together, we carried the clothesbaskets up to their rooms. Mrs. Crawford followed us after we went through.

"Just put them on the floor, they can put everything away when they get home." Then she giggled. "Or not, they usually just pull stuff out of their laundry baskets without ever putting it away." She blushed a little at that revelation.

Mrs. Crawford opened her purse and handed each of us one hundred dollars. I debated presenting some stupid, polite argument, 'I can't accept this, mum.' I was a maid, a minimum wage servant. She was offering me nearly a week’s take-home pay.

"Thank you, mum," I curtseyed and tucked the bills under my stocking top as there are no pockets in any of my uniforms. Toni placed her money on top of mine.

"Keep that safe for me, Jacqui," she smiled. I knew that Toni had no intention of asking me to return the money she’d placed in on my thigh.

"Judy, if there's no further need for Jacqui here, I'll take her back home."

"No, she did a fine job.

"Thank you, Jacqui." I went to change into a clean uniform, pack our bags, and then load the car. Toni came out after I'd carried the last of our luggage to her car.

"Here," I accepted the heavy and full shopping bag with my hands.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Your supper. I noticed that you were kept so busy last night that you never took a break and went without your supper. When I mentioned that and commented on how hard you'd worked to Dave and Judy. Dave insisted you take all the leftovers. Enjoy your own feast tonight."

"Melissa and I can eat for a week with all this. Thanks." I had wrapped everything up in aluminum foil or placed it in baggies, so I knew what was in the bag.

Toni came inside the house when we returned. While I put all of my things up in the maids' quarters, she went to talk with Ms. Martin. They were still chatting by the pool when I curtseyed to them there.

"Toni has told me that you did a fine job last night, Jacqui. I'm pleased. I'll be leaving shortly and not require you further this evening."

"Yes, mum. Thank you mum" I curtseyed, said a polite good-bye to Toni and went to the maid’s quarters.

Melissa wasn't home, and I gratefully lay down to rest.

End of Part VIII

My mind went blank as I lifted the black, flocked box from his trembling fingers.

"I'll give you a kiss, if you sign the ball, please?"

I guess I would be a kind of a trophy wife for him.

_______________________________________________________________

The following Saturday, I had a date to go to New York with Kurt. It helped me to think about that instead of the constant stimulation my chastity belt provided while I did my chores. It was terribly frustrating to be aroused all the time and not be able to do a thing to bring satisfaction to myself. Since the night Melissa had trapped me into being caught with her to provide Carla a pretense to lock me in a chastity belt again, she’d offered no other opportunities for sex.

Kurt was going to get me out of this! The knowledge that he would was the strength, which kept me going.

He had tickets to a Yankees game and, of course, had invited me. I'd never been a big sports fan even if it was the Yankees and Red Sox, but he wanted to see the game and it did give me a chance to get out. I missed the freedom that having a car had provided.

When I had told Ms. Martin about my upcoming date, she reminded me that my chastity belt would be removed for the day.

"I regret that I wasn’t available to unlock you for your last date, Jacqui. A slut like you needs to be used by a real man," she snorted derisively, obviously relishing yet another chance to humiliate me. She seemed to take joy in doing that every chance she got. "I’ll not tell you how to dress for your boyfriend and even allow you to wear those sexy leopard pants, if you’d like. You are such a sex kitten in them." She was goading me, but I wasn’t going to take the bait. My time would come, and then I'd wear those pants proudly. She was right. They made me look very hot.

For some reason, Melissa had decided to be nice to me and offered to loan me any of her pants since I didn't have any of my own. I'd have loved to wear her black leather jeans, but when I tried them on Saturday morning then a few of her others, I decided that pants were a bad idea. She was a bit rounder than I was and they simply didn’t fit right. I settled on a full mini in faded denim with a white blouse I'd embroidered, a wide red belt and my red boots. Melissa gave me a Yankee cap she had gotten from an old boyfriend. My red shoulder bag and a cardigan, in case I got cold, completed my outfit.

Melissa giggled when she saw me greet Kurt with a smile and a kiss after he came in. I knew this meant that her teasing me about my boyfriend was going to escalate, but I didn't care any more. He was my boyfriend.

"Jacqui, you look more like a Boston fan than someone rooting for the Yankees." I guessed he was referring to all the red I had on.

"I've got an official Yankee cap," I pouted in protest. "Do you want me to change?"

"No, you look scrumptious, as usual. Come, we'll go. I brought Henry with the car today."

"Great, I'm looking forward to later then," I said happily.

"Kurt," I said, once Henry had headed us towards the city, "you're going to have to tell me about the Yankees. I know the basic game, but have no idea who any of the players are."

"Certainly, liebling. First, give me your purse?" Curious, I placed it on his lap and turned, curling one leg up, to watch what he was going to do with it. From his pocket, he took out the phony Hong Kong passport.

"We’ve had this examined by experts. The passport book itself is quite real, almost certainly stolen. The paper and inks are the genuine items, Jacqui, as are the exit and entry stamps. It can pass any examination. Whether it would check against records in Hong Kong or New York, we do not know." He placed it in my purse. I was puzzled as to where this was leading. Kurt held out the work visa that is commonly referred to as a ‘green card’. Carla hadn't given me one.

"This is completely real. It makes it legal for Jacqui Lian Chang to work here in the United States of America. In fact, she can work indefinitely."

"How?" I asked. Kurt gave me an enigmatic smile.

"Let us leave it that money, placed in proper places, causes the government to be motivated." He opened my wallet and placed it one of the sleeves, closed my purse and settled it beside me.

"My attorney highly recommends that you believe that, for a time at least, your name actually is, Jacqui Lian Chang."

"OK, I understand, but what do you mean by, ‘for a time’? Kurt’s smile broadened.

"Jacqui has papers to prove that she is a female and never was anything else."

"Yes, but since my operation, I could do that," I offered. My research on the Web had given me sufficient information to know how and I explained what I knew.

"Yes, you could acquire papers to state you are female, but never the other part," Kurt patiently continued. "With the papers you now have, including your permanent residence visa, you no longer have to worry anything else.

"There is one more thing you can now do, which you could never do under the method you have suggested." I saw his hand go in his pocket as he slipped to one knee. I gasped and held my breath. This couldn’t be happening.

"Jacqui Lian Chang, I ask you to someday soon change your name to Mrs. Jacqui Lian Mark. I want you as my wife."

It was true! My mind went blank as I lifted the black, flocked box from his trembling fingers. Now I was trembling as well. Had I remembered to breathe yet? I wasn’t sure.

My eyes nearly burst from their sockets when I finally managed to control my hands well enough to open the box. It contained two rings, one of which held a very large diamond, the other three small ones in a simple setting.

"Kurt, I don't know what to say," I felt stupid and tongue-tied. This must be a dream. How could a man be on his knee asking me to marry him?

"Then say, yes," he said taking my left hand in his. Shaking even worse now, I extended my ring finger. Kurt placed the diamond on my finger then lifted my hand to his lips.

I think I just whispered, ‘Yes, Kurt’. My heart was so full; I thought it would burst. I grabbed his face in both my hands and reached down to kiss him. "Yes, Kurt. Oh, yes! Thank God, yes." I planted my lips on his as he rose up from the floor and sat down next to me. As we kissed, I started to cry. I don't know why, but I couldn’t help it. One thing I did know, they were tears of pure joy.

"Jacqui, my love, my future wife, you make me a very happy man." He embraced me tightly.

I clung to Kurt for the rest of the ride, while he very patiently tried to tell me about all the players, their positions and a little of their statistics.

I couldn't have cared less. I wanted to kiss him, caress his hair and face and hold my arms around his thick chest. At one point I did tune back in to his voice and then asked innocently, "I thought Raspberry was a Yankee?" That caused him to chuckle.

"You are so cute, Jacqui?"

"Why am I cute? Because I asked about one of their players? I'm positive he plays in the outfield and is one of their heavy hitters," I defended myself with all the mock seriousness I could muster. I knew I was right even if I wasn't a fan.

"Strawberry. It's Darryl Strawberry, not Raspberry, liebling. Yes, he was a player, but his drug consumption and cancer ended his career."

"Oh," was all I had to say. I decided not to ask any more stupid questions.

"A salesman who wishes to do business with my company has provided tickets to their box seats next to the Yankee dugout. There are seats for eight. Would you object if I asked Henry to sit there with us?"

"No, not at all, Kurt," I lifted the gosport to my mouth. This old car was wonderful.

"Henry?"

"Yes, Miss Jacqui."

"If you stop calling me Miss Jacqui. I'd like you to join Mr. Mark and me inside the stadium to enjoy the game this afternoon. Say yes, please?"

"It will be my pleasure M... Jacqui."

When we got to Yankee Stadium, I was walking on air. I felt like my engagement ring was as big as a baseball and that everyone was looking at it and me enviously. I was bubbling over with a joyous enthusiasm, that I hadn't experienced since I was a child.

Once we were standing in the parking lot, I moved in front of Henry.

As soon as Henry had helped me out of the car, I reached up and grabbed his chauffeur’s cap. "This stays here," I said as I tossed it inside the car and started to unbutton his jacket. "Take that off too." I waited. "Lean forward." His necktie followed and I undid the top button of his white shirt. "Now give me your hand, Uncle Hank."

"Kurt?" I extended my other hand, the left one, the one with the gigantic gorgeous engagement ring on it, towards him.

"OK, gentleman, take me out to the ball game." Henry's laugh was suppressed, but Kurt was laughing openly. They escorted me to the entrance.

After the usher had shown us to our seats, Henry moved to sit in the row behind where I intended to sit next to Kurt.

"Where do you think you are going, Uncle Hank? You are going to sit right next to me and if you don't, I'm going to sit on your lap to keep you there." I was quite serious. Almost reluctantly, Henry moved to my side again.

The stadium was quite full by the time we'd arrived and people continued to fill the empty seats.

"Are there always this many people, here?" I asked.

"It is a very important game. Boston is tied with New York for first place and the play-offs are soon." Henry answered.

Once the National Anthem had finished and the first pitch thrown, I quickly became caught up in the excitement and was yelling and cheering with the rest of the crowd. I was all over Kurt, until he told me to calm down a little bit. I think both my escorts were having more fun watching me than the game. I couldn't blame them, I looked like an exotic fashion model, but I was behaving like a hyperactive child. I couldn’t contain my joy.

I think it was the top of the eighth and the score was still tied at nothing — nothing, though there had been lots of action and a bunch of hits by both teams. One of the Red Sox hitters chopped a foul ball right at us and Henry managed to leap up and make the one-handed grab. The crowd cheered his catch, so Henry turned to them and took a bow.

Before he sat, he turned to face me, bowed, and presented the ball to me as if it were a valuable artifact. The batter struck out on the next pitch to end the half inning.

A wild idea raced into my head and, with one hand searching my purse while the other held the ball, I ran to the rail.

I called, as loudly as I could, for the pitcher to please autograph my ball while waving it in the air. I didn't know who he was, but he was a gigantic, at least six foot five, and his jersey said Pettitte. As I jumped up and down so he could see my tits bounce, I realized that he was kind of cute.

He did a double take when he first spotted me, but my plan had worked. Instead of going in the dugout, he turned, smiled and jogged towards where I was standing against the rail.

"I'll give you a kiss, if you sign the ball, please?" I offered, clasping my hands in front of me and twisting back and forth like a little girl, asking daddy for a favor. The way he was smiling at my chest, I didn't need to hear his answer. He accepted the ball and pen.

"What's your name, doll?"

"Jacqui, but please address it to 'Uncle Hank', he caught it."

"My pleasure, Jacqui." As he signed, I saw that the big television camera at the corner of the dugout was pointed straight at us. I'd noticed it pointing towards me several times, but I'd no doubt we were center screen now, I could see our picture on the giant scoreboard monitor.

"There you are." he offered the ball and pen back.

"Move closer for your kiss," I whispered to him. When he did, I grinned, leaned forward from my waist and I put my arms out to grasp him on both shoulders. They were huge and rippled with power. I pulled him towards me and planted a big kiss on his lips.

"Now go win this game for me!" I said as I pulled my face from his.

At that point, the crowd went nuts and he turned red as he spun to see us on the scoreboard. He was good though; he turned back to me and tipped his cap. "Sure thing, Jacqui," he grinned.

I thanked him with a proper curtsey, which drew another roar from the crowd as he trotted to the dugout. This pretty girl thing could be real fun if you handled it right.

"My gift to you for being at the hospital when I needed you, Uncle Hank," I bent to kiss his forehead when I handed the ball back to him.

I guess the camera was still on me because the crowd cheered yet again as I sat. I looked to the field and blushed. The umpire had just called, 'Batter up!'

The Yankees went down in order in the bottom of the eigth, and Andy Pettitte, as I discovered his name was, needed only nine pitches to dispatch the Redsox in the top of the ninth.

Their pitcher walked the first Yankee batter. Henry was obviously a real fan, diligently marking little codes in the boxes next to the players' names on the scorecard he purchased. I pulled his hand closer so I could see it.

"Who is the fourth hitter, Uncle Hank?"

"The designated hitter. Why do you ask?"

"It would have been my pitcher before they started using them?" I asked.

"Yes, Jacqui, that's right.

I stood and walked to the rail, calmly this time. I called over the ball boy seated nearby.

"Please tell the DH, that Jacqui wants a talk with him?" I tried not to act nervous. That camera was pointed at me again. I could only imagine what the announcers must have been saying.

"Hi, I'm Jacqui."

"I know," he smiled, returning my greeting.

"Do you remember Babe Ruth's most famous moment?" I asked, blinking my eyes at him in an open flirt.

"Sure, Jacqui."

"Point out where your homerun ball is going then?" I ordered.

His eyes opened wide for a moment, but then he just chuckled and went back to the dugout, shaking his head. I didn't let his non-participation spoil my fun. I turned to the crowd and jumped up and down jabbing my own arm toward the short right field fence; that, got me a cheer.

The next hitter got on with a weak single to left and when the following hitter bunted a little too hard, Boston tried for a double play, but only got the man a second. It was first and third, with only one out as my batter approached the plate. Before stepping into the batter's box, I saw him look towards where I was seated. I stood and again jabbed my arm to point to the seats I'd indicated. A time out was called when the Red Sox's manager stepped onto the field. Oh Pooh!

A relief pitcher was called in from the bullpen.

Finally! It was time to resume the game. He stepped into the batter's box swinging his bat menacingly. When he again looked, I was standing on my seat with my arm and finger stretched out, pointing. I think he nodded and then he slowly stretched his arm to where I pointed. The crowd went wild.

"Stee-rike!" I heard the umpire call.

After three balls, I heard, "Stee-rike!" It was a swing and a miss.

Crack! Thwack! He lined the next pitch so hard to the first baseman, that the sound of the ball hitting his glove was almost as loud as the sound of the bat hitting the ball. The runner was easily doubled off first to end the inning.

"Damn!" I muttered.

Kurt and Henry held my hands.

It was still zip - zip in the bottom of the eleventh when my guy approached the plate again.

"What the H!" I said. I stood and pointed as before. The entire crowd was yelling for a homerun. He just knocked the dirt out of his cleats and stepped into the batter's box.

Crack! He crushed the first pitch. I'm a novice, but even I could tell that it was a home run long before the ball sailed over the left field fence and into the monuments. Who cared if he hit it to the wrong field?

What was left of the crowd was so full of energy that even the walk back to the car was fun. Many of the fans recognized me now, and I could feel them looking at me and heard them talk about how hot I was. I was thrilled, but didn't let on, focusing all my attention on Kurt.

"Kurt, I want Uncle Hank to pick the restaurant and join us for dinner tonight?" I said as I entered the car.

"Certainly, my dear. Henry, you heard the lady."

Before the door closed, bright lights flooded the compartment and a microphone was shoved in.

"Mike Conners, Channel Seven, Eyewitness News. What's your name?"

"I'm Jacqui. Good-bye."

"Henry, the door please?"

I fell onto Kurt's lap having a giggle fit.

"No one ever told me that a ball game could be that much fun, Kurt," I said.

"Well, my dear, I don't think anyone there had ever been to a ball game quite like that one. Fans, even as pretty as you, don't make a habit of seducing the players."

I could tell by his grin that he was kidding, but I swatted at him in anyway. I missed, falling into his lap again, so I could snuggle into in his arms. We kissed and hugged all the way to the restaurant.

We ended up at a German restaurant in Atlantic Highlands, not exactly on the route home from Yankee Stadium.

Not surprisingly, the maitre de knew Kurt. "Guten Abend, Herr Mark," he greeted.

"Guten Abend, Arnald. This is Jacqui and you know my chauffeur, Henry." The portly man bowed to me with a smile and acknowledged Henry with just a nod. We were seated near the bandstand and dance floor.

"I should have worn my black dirndl and apron," I joked.

"Really, Jacqui?" Kurt asked.

"Really. I do have them."

"Don't underestimate Miss Jacqui, sir." Henry added, then turned pale for intruding.

"I think we learned that for sure at the ball game today," Kurt laughed.

I had a great evening, first dining and then dancing. This was the first time Jacqui had ever danced. It was a little awkward at first, especially going backwards, but Kurt was masterful, and such a strong leader, that following him was a snap. I picked it up quickly. I loved holding my hand on his shoulder and feeling his on my back. I even had a couple of dances with Henry, who was no slouch either.

In the end, however, I was on the dance floor with Kurt. I draped my arms around his neck and made him put his around my back. "This is how young American lovers dance," I said, staring into his eyes. Then I rested my head against his chest and let him lead me. I couldn't get over the amazing feeling of my breasts pressed against his chest.

Then, without any warning, Kurt dropped his hands to caress my ass and said, "Do young lovers do this too?"

"Yes, they do," I whispered as I pushed my body even further into his. I didn't know how it had happened, but this man had changed me utterly.

Both Kurt and I just collapsed into the big back seat of the Rolls when they finally threw us out of the restaurant so they could close. We both relaxed back against the leather seat back and waited for Henry to drive us home. After the car was in motion, the reflections of the lights in the parking lot glinted from my ring. Tired and emotionally spent, I easily got lost in random thoughts as I allowed myself to become transfixed by the twinkling.

One of the sparkles reminded my how happy I was right then. It felt so good to know that Kurt loved me. A blinking turn signal derailed that feeling and I started to get uneasy. How, I wondered, had Kurt fallen in love with me? It had happened so fast, and I couldn't think of anything remarkable about our early dates that might have led Kurt to propose so quickly.

I guess Kurt had been very lonely since Erica had died. Though he never dwelled on it, I was positive this was the case. So that was one thing, he was lonely.

I also knew, because he told me, that he had always adored Asian girls and that he had been infatuated with the vaguely oriental Jacqui since first laying eyes on her. I couldn’t remember how many times he’d told me I was incredibly attractive even before my surgery. Now I was an absolutely gorgeous Asian girl in his eyes and most others. I guess I would be a kind of a trophy wife for him.

I frowned at that thought — how demeaning, to simply be an object, but then another headlight caught the ring, setting off a bright twinkle that made me smile again. No, it wasn't demeaning; it was fantastic. I was a gorgeous young woman and he admired me for it. Hell, they say that Helen of Troy's beauty launched a thousand ships. Maybe mine only landed me one suitor, but he was a terrific guy.

Since we’d met, it had been over two months ago now, Kurt had had a lot of time to think about what he wanted, and it seemed he wanted me. Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder. We did have a rather long separation while he was in Germany. Then too, I’m positive he’d seen that I desperately needed help and I'll bet being the one to provide it made him feel good about himself. Nothing wrong with that either, I guess.

Okay, maybe all that could explain Kurt's feelings, but what about of my own? One thing I knew for sure was that I was more grateful to Kurt than I had ever been to anyone. Not only did he treat me as if I was valuable, which I desperately needed after what Carla had done to me, but he made me feel protected and taken care of. I had never really understood just how much I needed to have someone to take care of me.

I could feel tears of gratitude start to build in my eyes. I guess I was still an emotional wreck if a little feeling of gratitude made me cry. I guess I was as emotionally vulnerable as anyone ever had been. I'd been through hell over the last year, literally living in it since last spring.

Carla had wrenched me from one life and thrust me into another. She had betrayed me and destroyed my love for her and my belief in myself in the process. She had just about destroyed me as a person and would have had me as her prisoner forever if it hadn't been for Kurt.

Kurt had come along though, and he was my angel - my knight in shining armor. Not only would he rescue me from Carla, he filled my need for emotional support and attention when I needed it the most.

More importantly, perhaps, he helped me to become a woman by treating me like one. There was no doubt; he was a real gentleman, a gentleman in the old-fashioned sense, which made it easy for me to be a woman. The roles were pretty clear, and however he had done it, he had made me want to please him sexually, which really made me feel feminine.

Yes, Kurt had allowed me to leave John behind. John hated the thought of ever being intimate with a man. In truth, a truth I could finally admit to, he had been homophobic. That wasn’t a nice word, but it accurately described him. Had he been that way because he had been attracted to men, but wouldn't admit it? I wasn't sure.

I giggled. Stupid engineer’s logic - Jacqui wasn’t homophobic. I'd had sex with my man. It wasn’t horrible. In fact, it had been enjoyable. When I had shared those moments with Kurt, I had wanted to please him and it was unimportant that I had to play with his penis to do it. Even if he couldn't get erections, I was sure I would play with it again. I smiled to myself at the thought.

'I am Jacqui, Jacqui Lian Chang and very proud to be her,' I thought to myself with wonder in my heart that this could be real.

I held up my hand and played with the ring; trying to catch reflections of the passing streetlights on its facets.

"Kurt, why did you give me two rings?" I asked, turning towards him as I did.

He smiled. "First welcome back." I blushed, slightly embarrassed.

"Liebling, two rings - one to wear on your right hand while at Carla’s so you will always know that I am here to take care of you." He leaned over and gave me a sweet kiss. When we broke, he took my left hand and held it to show off the big diamond. "The other is for when we are together."

"I think Carla will accept the little one as a token of friendship, or perhaps payment for sex," he chuckled, which made me giggle. "But the big one would be too much. Carla would just get angry and make life worse for you because of it."

Of course Kurt was right. I lifted my left hand from his palm and caressed his cheek. Then I reached up and kissed him as I shifted my body so I was on his lap. Once we had settled into a comfortable position, I took his hand and placed it on my breast. "Please, I whispered, I need to feel your hands on me."

When we arrived at Carla's estate, I took off the big diamond and handed it to Kurt. Then, with a sigh, I removed the smaller ring. He put his hand on mine to stop me and he raised his eyes questioningly.

"Kurt, I don't want Carla or Melissa to know anything. And," I went on, reaching up to hold his cheek in my palm, "I don't need a ring to know you are with me." I looked down, squeamish about my feelings and what I was about to say. I looked back up and held his eyes. "I love you, Kurt Mark. You are in my heart, and that is everything to me."

He sat quietly as I put the smaller ring in the box. Then I looked back and said, "Kiss me, please? I need to feel your lips on mine as I walk back into that hellhole."

After a while, I broke the kiss to get out of the car. I had tears in my eyes because I hated the idea of going inside. "Kurt get me out of there, please? I just can't take it much longer."

"I will, liebling, I will. You are in my heart too and I will not let anything bad happen to you."

Near one o'clock in the morning, I climbed up in my bunk. Melissa was soon hugging me after she climbed up too.

"Tell me?" she kissed under my ear. "I saw you on the TV," she giggled, "Real show-off, Jacqui."

"I will, tomorrow. But let me sleep now please?" I answered.

"Okay, tomorrow," Melissa replied softly. "But remember, you promised."

End of Part IX

"It is only people who trust others who can be taken advantage of, but if you don't believe in the people you love enough to trust them, life is terribly lonely"

_______________________________________________________________

"Jacqui, I had a meeting with Paul Cardacci, my attorney," Kurt told me over the phone a week later. "He and his team would like to meet with you to discuss your options. I believe they will present you with a very interesting plan. Henry will pick you up at eight o’clock Tuesday morning." My spirits were buoyed by the thought that I might soon be getting out of this house.

"I can’t Kurt. Can you arrange for the meeting to be next Tuesday, instead?"

"Why can’t you be there this Tuesday?" he demanded. He was clearly annoyed and wanted to know why I had asked to reschedule such an important meeting.

"Carla has changed the rules," I replied glumly. I think she believes I don't have any options but to obey her or get deportated."

He laughed. "Ist gut. Let her continue to believe that. And just what are the new rules, liebling?" he asked, still chuckling.

"I’m not allowed off the property, except on my days off," I said forlornly. "And if I intend to go out, I must tell Melissa at least one week in advance." I was getting agitated as I thought about the way Carla and Melissa were treating me. "Kurt, things are becoming intolerable for me. They make my situation worse every day." I was feeling desperate.

"Just let her continue to believe that she owns you, Jacqui. It will be over soon. I promise you this."

"Oh, Kurt. It's worse than you think. Being off the property includes seeing you, and I can only do it on my scheduled day off," I whined.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "She forgets quickly what I might do. I will talk to her and I will see you on Tuesday."

"Kurt, promise me you won't make her angry."

"Very well, I will call Paul and let him make arrangements. I will call you later today or in the morning." I hung up the phone and returned to doing my chores. Even though it seemed as if Kurt was finally going to rescue me, I was more dispirited than ever.

I told Melissa that Kurt wanted to see Tuesday and, as expected, she informed Carla.

"Jacqui, the First Girl told me that you wish to go out this coming Tuesday to go shopping with Mr. Mark," Carla said while I served her dinner that evening.

I bobbed a small curtsey and said, "Yes, mum."

"Very well, since it’s only shopping and not a date with Mr. Mark, it will not be necessary for your chastity belt to be off." She was smirking, daring me to give some indication that I had lied or not told the complete truth. I had to swallow my anger.

"Of course, mum," I said very slowly, emphasizing the 'course'. It took a lot of effort to smile. ‘You’ll get yours, Carla!’

"What do you intend to wear? From now on, I’m requiring you to tell me exactly what you will be wearing when you go out." Carla was doing everything she could to intensify her control over me and to dominate the defenseless immigrant she’d been kind enough to hire.

"One of my cheongsams. Does it matter which, mum? I’ll also wear my leather cape. It's cold out." It pleased Carla when I dressed Chinese, instead of wearing Western styles. I'm sure she thought of it as another way to reinforce the role she had forced me into. I was half surprised she hadn't also forced me to learn to speak Chinese yet.

"Yes, that will do nicely. Wear the beret and a veil too.

"Melissa, since I’ll be at work, make sure the maid dresses just as she has said." Carla began to eat, but she wasn’t through tormenting me just yet. "I think that her black net stockings and those cute ankle strapped pumps would go nicely; the new ones with the high heels." Carla was looking at me with her eyes narrowed. She’d like nothing better than for me to protest.

"If she doesn’t like that, she can wear her airport slut outfit again, Melissa. See to it!" Carla was dead serious.

"Yes, mum," Melissa, acknowledged with a joyful giggle. "She’ll look just like the cheap slut she is, either way."

Melissa and I dressed together on Tuesday morning. She was preparing to go on duty and I was getting ready to go see my lawyer. I only hoped that I wouldn't be arrested for prostitution before I got there. As I dressed, Melissa tried every way she could to upset me.

"Start on your makeup, Jacqui. Here," she handed me a small plastic box, "you're wearing false eyelashes when you go out today. Ms. Martin wants you to look your best. I’ll get your new shoes while you put them on."

Once she’d slipped the pumps on my feet, I didn’t need to measure to know that they had more than six-inch heels. Not only that, the new shoes had two locks through each ankle strap. Melissa giggled when she snapped them closed. She had really come to enjoy demeaning and tormenting me. I couldn't believe I had once liked her and thought she was my friend. If I hadn't lived through it, I would never have been able to believe that people could be as duplicitous as she and Carla had turned out to be.

Carla came in while I was still getting dressed. "I’ll not mind if you wish to earn some extra shopping money while you're out today, Jacqui. Will a dozen do?" Carla pressed a box of condoms into my hand, "Watch that you don’t ruin your stockings when you kneel down," she laughed in my face. She was still laughing as she made her way out to the garage.

‘You’ll get yours, bitch!’ I vowed yet again.

I took a deep breath to calm myself as I stepped into the elegant lobby of the lawyers' building. "I’m Jacqui Chang. I have an appointment with Mr. Cardacci," I said to the receptionist. I was shaking and felt humiliated by the way she looked up at me, first surprised by my squeaky voice and then startled at the way I looked. A homeless man in rags would have been looked more appropriate in these sedate law offices than I did. The only thing about me that didn’t shout, 'hooker,' was my cheongsam, which although tight, did cover me rather completely.

"Yes, Miss Chang." After her initial surprise, the receptionist, obviously a consummate professional, treated me with the same non-judgmental, friendliness that Henry normally did. It was as if handling clients who sounded like Betty Boop (I had managed to lower my voice a little — I no longer sounded like Betty Boop on helium) and dressed like hookers was an everyday occurrence. "They're waiting for you in the conference room. This way please?" Henry, who’d accompanied me inside, sat in the lobby to wait. The Rolls was sitting out front.

I was shaking like a terrified rabbit when she knocked and opened the door.

"Miss Chang has arrived."

I wanted to run into Kurt’s arms when he rose to greet me, but between the tight dress and the ultra high heels, all I could manage was a quick mince that included lots of hip swing. I'll bet the men just ate that up, I thought to myself as he first hugged me tightly and then gave me a quick kiss. After removing my cape and handing it to the receptionist, he took both my hands and said, "So, I see Carla is still dressing you. She really does have horrible taste." I nodded.

Then he turned to the people assembled in the room. "As you can see," he said, gesturing to me, "Ms. Martin takes routine pleasure in humiliating Jacqui. This must end." He patted me on the hand and pointed to the seat next to his before pulling it out for me.

I sat, and the receptionist placed a tea service before me. Not a word had been said until I thanked her for pouring me a cup and fixing it as I requested.

"Gentlemen, Ms. Fukes, let me introduce my friend, Jacqui Lian Chang," Kurt said proudly.

"Jacqui, Paul Cardacci, Adrian Stele, Joanne Fukes." He nodded at each and they rose to shake my hand as he introduced them. My papers, along with about three boxes of other stuff were arranged on the table.

Mr. Cardacci began, "Miss Chang…"

"Just Jacqui, please?" I interrupted.

"Jacqui," he started over with a nod to indicate he understood, "you know what we have here." Paul placed his hand on the medical folder. "Mr. Mark has told you about your passport and visa. Before we get on to other matters, do you have any questions regarding why we recommended you keep it and use it?"

"Only …" I paused to compose my thoughts. Paul Cardacci was one of those people who quickly made you feel comfortable. "What if something happened to cause the authorities to check up on the real background of Jacqui Chang in Hong Kong, Mr. Cardacci?" He smiled at me.

"Paul. Please, Jacqui?" I nodded my acceptance. "To answer your question," he went on, "we already have."

Adrian Stele picked up the conversation. "I’m retired from the CIA and own an international investigation firm. We checked you out."

I was so surprised, I could feel my eyebrows lift and my eyes open. "What do you mean, 'checked me out'?" I asked. "I thought I was a fake."

"No," Stele went on, "there actually was a Jacqui Lian Chang, born in Hong Kong in April of seventy-nine." He laughed, "Not every girl is lucky enough to knock eleven years off her age, just like that." I felt a little stupid. Although I’d looked at my passport a hundred times since Carla had given it to me, the birth date on it just hadn't registered.

"Records indicate that the other Miss Chang flew to YVR, sorry, Vancouver International Airport, last March. Three days later, she cleared US Customs and Immigration at JFK. From there, her trail is ice cold."

Paul resumed, "At first, we thought the passport was a forgery. Apparently, it is not, Jacqui — it is quite real.

"We checked other things and discovered some very interesting facts surrounding Miss Chang." Now it was Joanne Fukes' turn. "Ms. Martin, the former Mrs. Carla Ingram, has been planning this for some time."

"Excuse me, 'the former Mrs. Carla Ingram', J … Joanne?" I stared at Kurt and he smiled.

"I only learned of this part this morning, liebling." He patted my hand and smiled at me.

Joanne passed me some papers that bore embossed seals. The one on top was a divorce decree from a Nevada court and the other the approval to legally change her name. Our divorce had been finalized in March and the name change in April. I was in shock.

"Six months is the statutory waiting period in Nevada. Jacqui, Mr. Mark has made us aware of the significance of early September of last year," she said. Despite my surprise, I began to get so angry I started to tremble.

I could only stutter, "But … but…"

Kurt took hold of my hand and squeezed it gently. "Be calm, liebling. Your turn will come very soon ... very soon, I assure you."

"But this means she planned the whole thing a year ago," I shouted. It was a pitiful high-pitched sound. "She was lying to me the whole time! How could she?" I buried my face in my hands and started to weep. Kurt put his arm around my shoulder and held me. I sat up a few moments later, tears still running down my face. I wiped at them with the back of my hand."

"She said she loved me. I trusted her. How could I have been so stupid?" I started bawling again. I felt like a total fool, completely humiliated by my lack of insight and awareness.

Kurt somehow acquired some tissues and gave them to me. When I looked up at him, he started to wipe my eyes, while cooing comforting words to me. Again, I sat up after blowing my nose and wiping more mascara from my cheeks, I said. "I'm sorry, I just had no idea," which almost started me crying again. All the lawyers nodded their understanding, while I gulped in air to calm myself.

"Jacqui, we do not know what happened to the original Miss Chang yet," Adrian was speaking again. "And we can't rule out foul play. That is a police matter."

"Ms. Martin paid for her ticket on Air Canada with a credit card. She indeed sponsored her in this country and immigration records show her current address to be the same as yours."

"Oh," his face lit up as he dug in his pocket, "You might like to have this." Adrian handed me a laminated card.

"Her drivers license!" I squeaked. The picture bore only a faint resemblance to me. This time, I carefully checked the date and other data. It was a New Jersey license, issued in March.

"Where did you find this?"

"One of my operatives found it while snooping around the property." He grinned at me. "We hired Emilio to keep an eye on things as soon as Kurt called us. He’s sorry that he couldn't give it to you, but his instructions were to give it to us in any case."

"Carla built a nearly air-tight trap, Jacqui, except for these." Paul opened a new file. "These are records we subpoenaed from the hospital in New York City where one John Ingram, a.k.a., Jacqui Chang, had breast enlargement, facial and throat surgery." He set the pile aside. "These are from the other facility, which performed your reassignment surgery. And, just to complete the picture, we have these impressive forgeries — you mental health records. Adrian’s people have gathered a ton of evidence to disprove their authenticity. It seems that another Jacqui," he looked at his notes, "one Jacqui Marshall had the same surgery the week after you did in the same hospital. They found her and interviewed her. She is the Jacqui in all the therapists' reports. Ms. Martin bribed Ms. Marshall, who could not afford SRS on her own, to act as her transsexual husband."

I was goggle-eyed at all these revelations. I just kept shaking my head from side to side because I couldn't believe the magnitude of Carla's scheming. It might even include murder!

"Jacqui?" Paul turned quiet and spoke to me in measured tones. "We have still more, but we don't have to go over all the details, unless you wish us to. Suffice it to say, that the financial records at the company have been tampered with. We have approached, on your behalf, some of the individuals involved and have reached an ‘understanding’ with them," Paul winked as he said that. Obviously, all the cards were not yet face up on the table.

He reinforced my unspoken metaphor. "In short Jacqui, Carla's been dealing from a stacked deck." Paul smiled broadly, indicating his satisfaction.

"I think I understand," I squeaked, ashamed of my voice, but unable to change it. "Where do I go from here?"

"First, we highly recommend that you get out of the Martin residence as soon as possible, Jacqui," Joanne said." I mean immediately," she reiterated.

I looked to Kurt for guidance. He nodded and said, "You'll move into my house today.

"Then what?" I asked.

"Let me summarize first," Paul went on. "Please be patient."

"First, did John ever have his fingerprints taken and are they on file somewhere?"

"Yes, but it was a long time ago," I said. "In high school we took a field trip to the local State Troopers' barracks to learn what they did." When I finished, Adrian excused himself for a moment and went to a telephone at the end of the room.

Of course, how silly of me, I thought. Carla couldn't deport someone with John Ingram's fingerprints, even if she had succeeded in forcing him to be Jacqui Chang. Then I realized that Jacqui Chang wouldn't have XY chromosomes either. Carla had me so scared and so far off balance that I hadn't even thought to analyze my situation. The only problem was, I was so distraught and emotionally drained, I wasn't sure I could think straight any more.

"We believe that we’ve assembled more than enough evidence to have the INS, FBI, the IRS, State and local police as well other agencies investigate, and almost certainly file charges. Right now, I'd guess that they would suspect that the other Miss Chang has been murdered. In any event, our recommendation to you is to not get them involved at this stage. There is no statute of limitations on murder or certain immigration violations.

"Those aside," Paul touched my psychiatric folder, "forgery on numerous counts is sufficient, by itself, to convict Ms. Martin and put her in prison for a good number of years. We can add in a salad of civil matters, if you’d like."

"What I’d like," I said, trying to stay calm, "is to be rid of her forever and … and get my fair share of my assets back."

"Ahem," Joanne cleared her throat, "There is a problem there, Jacqui."

"What?" I was suddenly afraid. "What problem?"

"Apparently both Ms. Martin and your former lawyer had the appropriate legal powers of attorney to control your finances. Your current assets are relatively safe, but we are going to have to fight to regain control of them if Ms. Martin refuses to cooperate.

"Worst case scenario, they might not be accessible to you until you reach age fifty."

"There is also a Catch-22, Jacqui," Paul took over. "The assets are in John Ingram’s name. You cannot be both John Ingram and Jacqui Chang." I'm sure we can convince Ms. Martin and her lawyer that it is in their best interests, shall we say, to turn them over to you. Considering the potential criminal sanctions you could expose them to, they would be fools not to do anything you ask."

I again started to cry, perhaps because I was so relieved, I don't know. In any case, I couldn’t continue. Kurt thanked everyone and the meeting broke up. Henry drove us to Kurt’s house.

It was dark when I awoke with a start. I remembered Kurt carrying me inside but that was all. I had no idea where I was or how I’d gotten there. When a hand touched my forearm, I shrieked.

"You are safe, Jacqui," a kind sounding woman said. "You are in Mr. Mark’s home. I’m Anna, the cook. Mr. Mark asked me to sit with you." I'm going to turn the light on.

I found myself in a comfortable room. The furniture looked to be antique and the chintz curtains over the two windows were drawn closed. I was wearing a clean satin nightgown and my clothes were folded neatly on a bureau. As I awoke, I realized that I was free of my corset, but the hated chastity belt was still in place. My shoes were gone too. They were sitting on a dresser next to a pair of bolt cutters.

"Mr. Mark will be back shortly with some other clothes for you." I'm sure you'll find them rather more comfortable than," and she looked over at the pile of my clothes with a look of disdain, "those."

Anna picked up the cheongsam and examined it closely. "But this is quite lovely, the hand embroidery is just exquisite. It must have cost a fortune," she said turning to me.

"I did it myself," I replied softly.

"Oh my," was all she could say. I could tell from her voice that she was impressed.

Anna brought me some tea and drew a bath for me. By the time Kurt got back, I was sitting in a comfortable armchair thinking about my life.

"Oh good, you're awake," he said, obviously happy to see me looking so well. He came over and kissed me on the forehead. "Feeling better?" he asked gently.

I nodded shyly. "Kurt, I can't believe what a fool I've been. I participated fully in Carla's efforts to destroy and debase me."

"No, no, my little Jacqui," he replied, his voice still soft and soothing. He turned and sat on the bed, placing a pile of clothing bags next to him. "You are not such a fool as you think. Carla acted very deviously while you thought she was trying to help you. It is only people who trust others who can be taken advantage of, but if you don't believe in the people you love enough to trust them, life is terribly lonely. Please don't let Carla's betrayal harden your heart."

I nodded, but said nothing. My brain understood what Kurt was saying, but my heart was still telling me that I was a ridiculous fool.

Kurt wasn't going to let me sulk; he brightened and said, "I've brought you some new clothes for dinner, some things rather different than your usual attire." He drew an elegant emerald green pants suit of the softest silk from one of the bags. The top opened in front and closed with just one button and a sash. It was heavily shirred and would de-emphasize the size of my bust, although I just knew it would drape over them exquisitely. I had to giggle when I saw the pants.

"Kurt, except when I went to Kennedy, I haven't worn pants since last April. I hope I remember how."

"I'm sure you'll think of something, liebling," he said as he sat watching me.

I quickly put on the pretty black bra that came from another bag. Although it was of the softest fabric, with lace panels, the bra was full cut and supplied welcome support. Instead of panties, there was a pair of matching tap pants, which fit easily over my chastity belt. I thought they looked really sexy as the lacy hem fluttered around the bottom curve of my ass.

Kurt had brought both stockings and pantyhose and I decided that stockings would be perfect with the tap pants. Besides, pantyhose and chastity belts didn’t go well together. Thankfully, the stockings he’d selected had elastic tops so they could be worn without a garter belt, which he hadn't thought of. The shoes were open-toed sandals with only three and a half inch heels.

"I hope I can walk in something so low," I joked to Kurt as I finished putting them on, buckled their delicate straps and stood. I hated open toed shoes, but Kurt was trying so hard, I certainly wasn't going to complain. At least they were sandals, which were far preferable to open-toed pumps. I hated them, especially; they were just ugly.

When I started to stand, Kurt rushed over to ‘help’ me.

"Wait," he said. "You are not yet completely dressed." I was confused, but sat back down on the bed. As I did, Kurt withdrew the ring box from his pocket. Taking my left hand, he smiled at me and said, "My intention is that you will never have to take this off again," as he slipped the diamond engagement ring onto my finger.

I thought I was going to cry again, but Kurt said, "Wait, don't cry yet. I'm not finished," which made me giggle. Then he put the smaller three-stone ring onto my right hand. Smiling at me he teased, "Okay, you can cry now if you want."

"Oh Kurt," I whimpered, "I'm feeling better than I can ever remember." I threw myself at him and draped my arms over his shoulders, while I wiggled in close to his body. I loved the fact that I was shorter than him and tilted my head to look up into his eyes. He took the opportunity to kiss me. I kissed him back as lovingly as I could.

"My hero," I whispered after we broke for the first time. "You've rescued me from my nightmare. I'll always owe you for that."

"Oh, hush, Jacqui," he replied. Our faces remained close. "You don't owe me anything. It is I who owe you, for filling the life of a lonely old man with joy."

I couldn't take it. I lunged back in for another kiss before I started to cry again.

That night we slept curled up together for the first time ever.

End of Part X

"Oh Jacqui, you are such a dear. Let's go home. . ."

"It's Chang," I said, feeling rather jarred when I heard that come out of my mouth. I sure didn't feel like a Chang.

_______________________________________________________________

A Mark Seven truck and two of Kurt's workers followed us to Carla's house the next morning. This time I was wearing a full denim skirt hemmed just above my knees and white cashmere, long-sleeve, turtleneck sweater. Kurt had bought me an exquisite black leather jacket that hung down to about the middle of my butt and was suppressed slightly at the waist. I pulled the collar up and the sexy little lapels looked great next to my face. On my feet, I only wore white Keds, although I couldn’t resist the lacy little anklets Kurt had somehow thought to buy. In these understated clothes, I was dressed like an American classic, but I still looked like an oriental bombshell. I hadn't dressed this modestly, or comfortably, for that matter, since beginning my ill-fated career as a maid. Unfortunately, my mind was a confused jumble of thoughts and feelings. I didn't feel the exhilaration I thought would be part of my new found freedom.

When we arrived at Carla’s estate, two State Troopers and a Sheriff’s deputy, who’d waited at the foot of the driveway with Adrian Steele and one of his men, joined us.

The Deputy and troopers entered first and showed Melissa the court orders Kurt’s lawyers had obtained just the previous afternoon. One gave me the right to remove all of my belongings from the house and the other was a restraining order, preventing her or Carla from stopping me, and ordering them to stay away from me. Understandably, Melissa was intimidated; a trooper kept her downstairs.

While his workers carried all of my things down to the waiting van, I made a most propitious discovery. The keys to my chastity belt were on Melissa’s vanity. I immediately opened the shields on my chastity belt and then removed it. I started to toss it away, but as I stood with it in my hand, I changed my mind and decided to keep it. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I just knew taking it along was the right thing to do.

"Kurt, look!" I squeaked excitedly as I ran down the stairs. "I found the keys." And I held up the chastity belt so he could see it.

"Don't be too quick to throw it away," Melissa cut in. "Maids need their protection." There was so much bitterness in her voice that I cringed and just glanced at her sourly.

"Shut up Melissa, You may act like a subservient maid, but deep down inside you're just as nasty as your sister." I paused for a moment and looked at her, "And even more duplicitous."

It didn't take long before my entire wardrobe, makeup, jewelry and other personal items were loaded into the van. I didn't take anything that wasn’t mine, and I didn’t look back. I left the large house for the very last time without any regrets. My departure had taken less than an hour. Sadly, it didn't make me feel much better about my life.

"I won't take up much room, or get in the way," I mumbled to Kurt as we sat together in the back of his Mercedes.

Kurt looked at me like I was certifiable. "What kind of nonsense is that?" he asked as he lifted me by my waist to sit me facing him on his lap.

"Jacqui, you will be the center of my life. I want you to take up all my room and be in my way all the time. I want you to share my bed," he looked concerned.

I lowered my head so he couldn't see my eyes and shook my head no. "Kurt, this is all happening much too quickly for me. The day before yesterday, I was trapped as Carla's maid and threatened with deportation if I misbehaved. Today you are telling me to be the center of your life. I don't think I could live without you, but I need a little space to get my bearings. And I'm afraid of what Carla might do to you once she discovers that you've helped me."

"Jacqui," Kurt sighed, "you are really are confused, aren't you. Carla certainly can't hurt me, and I swear, she can't hurt you anymore either. It is she who should be afraid of us. Please believe that. She may have been able to terrorize you while you lived in her house, but you don't anymore. I insist you live in my house so I may protect you. And I promise that Carla will soon be paying the price for her horrible treatment of you."

"I love you dearly, Kurt." I leaned up and kissed his cheek, "But I need time to sort all this out. May I please stay in a separate room?"

"A separate room? Really?" Kurt asked, slightly confused. "Is that all you want?" He laughed and then pulled me into a hug. After a moment, he pushed me away by the waist and when I looked up, he asked, "Will you at least eat dinner with me?" I nodded, taking this all very seriously, but he laughed again.

"Oh Jacqui, you are such a dear. Let's go home. I have something to show you. A small room you might like." He laughed again and pulled me tightly into his embrace, not letting go until we reached his home, the dear man.

When we turned into the driveway that led to the front of his house (another led to the garages), Kurt sat me up and looked at me seriously. "Jacqui, as much as I'd like to feel your body next to mine at night, I can wait." He smiled down at me. I felt like a little bird. "I have the perfect rooms for you. I want no argument from you when you see them. Do you agree?" If not for Kurt, I’d still be sleeping in the maid’s quarters at Carla’s or in a Federal Detention Center awaiting deportation, I wasn't going to disagree. In spite of what the lawyers had said the previous day, I was still afraid of Carla. I nodded, 'yes,' but for some reason, I was still afraid.

"Oh my God, Kurt," I gasped as he led me by the hand into my new rooms. "You’ve got to be kidding. I've never seen anything so gorgeous."

"These rooms were Erica’s," he said. "She was the most important thing in my life when she was alive." He turned me by my hand and grabbed my shoulders. "Now you are. Do you understand that?"

I stood there, feeling weak and confused, suddenly more tired than I could ever remember. I had been under terrible stress and now this man was telling me it was all over. He was trying to create a safe haven for me, but I didn't even know what I needed. I just hoped he would keep telling me what to do.

"You shall stay here until you are ready to move in with me."

Kurt surprised me; for the first time since we met, he wasn't being the strong stubborn man that he was. He had tears in the corners of his eyes. Now it was my turn to do something for him.

"Oh Kurt, this is incredible. I never dreamed of anything like this. I'm so touched you want me to stay in Erica's room. Let me kiss you."

"Kiss me? I thought you wanted "space." You little wench. You were teasing me! I should spank you."

I squealed and tried to spin away, but even in sneakers, I couldn't avoid him and his large hand delivered a gentle slap on my butt. Then he grabbed me and spun me around to face him. I was giggling and received two more playful swats when I stuck out my tongue to mock his efforts. I was still smiling as I grabbed my ass in both my hands to pretend to rub away the stings.

"Is that how you are going to treat me once I’m your wife?"

"No," he looked serious. "That is how I will treat my fiancée, my wife will get more." I managed to scamper out of range when he came at me again after my tongue made another defiant appearance between my red lips. Both of us were laughing when he left to get his men.

After Kurt went to the office, I retired to my new suite to dilate and clean myself. I spent a good deal of time at it because this was the first time I had been able to look at myself in quite awhile and I wanted to become familiar with the new me.

I perched on the side of the large whirlpool tub and used a hand mirror to give myself a thorough examination, though my breasts made that really hard. So I used my fingers, trying to match what I was seeing with what I could feel. I was quite taken with my new lips, which seemed to be rather well formed, but was still uneasy with the space between them.

By the time I was done, however, I felt cleaner than I had any time since Carla had placed me in the female chastity belt. I put on a clean pair of silky French-cut panties, and perhaps for the first time really enjoyed the feeling as they snugged themselves over the now thoroughly female landscape between my legs. I don't know whether it was because I was finally out of Carla's clutches or not, but as I watched myself rub my hand over the front of my panties, I felt liberated not having a cock and balls there.

After I dressed, I went to find Anna. She was in the kitchen with Henry, drinking coffee.

"May I join you, please?" They both stood up as soon as I entered the room.

"Certainly, Jacqui. Please sit?" Henry tended my chair.

"What can I do to help with supper?" It seemed a natural question to me, but Anna surprised me by getting upset. Henry recovered more quickly; he was used to me by then.

"Jacqui, you are the mistress of this home now. You do as you please, but it is our job to take care of you and the house."

"Anna, dear, Jacqui is the young lady who I’ve been telling you about since July. She is Mr. Mark’s fiancée, although she and Mr. Mark have not yet set the date." Anna still did not seem very happy with my presence.

"How does, Mr. Mark normally take his evening meal, Anna?" I asked. I wanted to get along with her, even if she didn't like me being there just yet.

"In the dining room. My husband serves his needs."

So … they were husband and wife. Anna was obviously protecting her territory. There was no way that she would welcome my helping with the cooking or the serving.

"I have seen Henry at work, Anna. He is simply superb. Mr. Mark is lucky to have him."

That brought a smile to her face. Maybe I was making progress after my initial misstep. Still, I was having a hard time figuring out what to do. My instincts told me to put on a uniform and become the maid that I had been, but I quickly realized that was a very bad idea. First, I was no longer a maid and second, Anna would never accept me in that role. I would cause chaos in the household.

The right way to do this was to act, as I now was, Kurt’s fiancée, living in his house, albeit with my own apartment. I really needed to win over Anna and make it clear to her that I was not going to usurp her position in the household.

"Anna, I'm sure that Henry has told you that I have been working as a maid, although it's really more complicated than that. I'm fully prepared to help you with your chores, but I'm sure that Mr. Mark wouldn't like that and I doubt you would either." She nodded vigorously in agreement.

"So why don't you just tell me how things go around here and I'll do my best to fit in."

She let out a big sigh of relief and her defensive body language disappeared, replaced by a clearly more friendly posture. This encouraged me, so I pushed on.

"What time does Kurt normally come home after work, Anna?"

"Between five thirty and six. What is your last name, please?" Anna asked.

"It's Chang," I said, feeling rather jarred when I heard that come out of my mouth. I sure didn't feel like a Chang. "But I will be very angry with you if you call or refer as anyone but Jacqui."

"But people will think I'm being presumptuous if I call you by your first name, Miss Chang. It just isn't done."

Of course, she was right; I should have realized. "You're right Anna, in public you should address me as Miss Chang, at least until I become Mrs. Mark." I smiled at her brightly. "But please, when we are alone, couldn't you just call me Jacqui? That would make me feel so much more comfortable." She nodded reluctantly, but that's really all I needed at that point.

"So, please Anna, tell me about Kurt's normal routine?" We talked together for two hours, and when we were done, Anna was laughing and joking with me.

"Anna, there's one favor I need. I need someone to help me into my corset after I bathe. I can't tighten it as snuggly as I like by myself.

She looked rather startled and disapproving, "But I'll be busy with dinner and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to help you."

My request had obviously made her very uncomfortable. "Anna, please don't think that I'm being presumptuous, but Henry has helped me before, when I was in the hospital."

"Henry?" she said, even more startled. Then she started to giggle and looked at me as if we were plotting a clever crime together. "I'll bet it was the highlight of his year," she whispered. "If you promise not to steal him from me, I guess we can let him do that for you, as long as he behaves himself."

With Anna’s blessing, Henry showed up at my door an hour later to tighten my corset. I already had it on, along with a bra and panties to 'preserve his modesty', as Anna had suggested.

"Tell me Henry, who tends the house?" I asked.

"My wife and I perform the daily tasks, Jacqui. Twice a week, a contract crew comes to do a thorough cleaning.

"Will you require me to attend you further, or can you manage?" he asked once he’d tied off the laces.

"I’m fine. Thank you for doing my laces."

"Jacqui?" Henry lingered anyway. I pulled on my robe and then turned and nodded with a smile, for him to proceed. "Jacqui, I would think you’d be happy not to have to wear a tight corset any longer. Why did you put one on again?" He asked.

"Sit down," I said, motioning to the chair. I went to select stockings and shoes. I sat to face him on the stool before my vanity to put them on.

"I have a hate/love relationship with my clothes. Yes, my corsets are tight, they are restrictive and a first class pain in my torso." I gartered one stocking after smoothing it up my leg then slid the other one up to sheath my right leg. "At first I really hated them and even after I overcame the initial discomfort, I hated that I had to wear one, without choice. But then yesterday, I discovered that I hated not having its support and the feeling of its snug embrace."

I stood, unembarrassed, and straightened my seams before sitting back down to slip on the sandals Kurt had bought for me.

"I think I'll just have to see, Henry. I suspect I'll wear them some of the time at least. I'm afraid that in addition to enjoying the way a corset feels around my torso, I just love the way it makes me look. I'm afraid I've become quite proud of my looks since Carla turned me into a Chinese sex pot." I giggled and struck a pose for him with one leg bent and one hand over my head while the other was on my hip. I didn't need to look in a mirror to know I was centerfold quality now.

"You better go now," I teased, "If you're late to pick up your boss because you were hanging around in his girlfriend's bedroom, that might cause problems," I teased.

He rose with a wry smile on his lips, bowed to me and said, "Thank you mademoiselle. I shall keep that in mind." He smiled again, winked at me and left, carefully closing the door behind himself.

An hour later, I was reading a magazine and waiting for Kurt in the main hallway, eager for his return.

When I heard the car drive up in front of the house, I ran to open the front door for Kurt, greeting him with a deep curtsey and a big smile, "Welcome home, Kurt." I reached up to kiss him to show him just how pleased I was to see him.

Kurt broke the kiss and turned to Henry. "Please take the boxes to Jacqui’s rooms, Henry. That big one is quite heavy. Call me if you need help with it.

"Certainly, sir."

Unbidden, I followed Kurt up to his suite, which was at the opposite end of the second floor hallway from mine. Inside, I started to undress him.

"I know Henry usually does this, dear, but it is my job now. Besides, I’m going to have Henry helping me, from now on." Kurt didn’t believe me when I told him that Henry had laced my corset for me.

"Until Anna finds out," he said. "They’re married you know, Jacqui."

"Yes. Anna has no problem with it; I think we're buddies now.

The boxes, which Henry had carried to my rooms, contained a computer, equipped with the biggest, fastest and best of everything. I set it up myself the following morning, but had needed Henry to help me place the twenty-one inch monitor. My room was already wired with a cable broadband connection.

I spent the next afternoon, searching the Web for the perfect wedding gown and trying to forget about all of the unpleasant legal matters that loomed over my head.

My thoughts ranged from an authentic Chinese style with flowing robes of embroidered red silk over white under gown and classic Chinese pajamas to modern ones, but I ended up doing a diligent search of Victorian costumes. When I logged off, I had lots of ideas, but not the perfect gown for me. I wasn’t even keen on white for the color.

Three hours later, the house was dark and quiet when I made my way down the hall and slipped in bed with him. He didn't awaken, and I fell asleep, pressed tightly to his warm body.

Nothing eventful happened until two weeks later. I spent my time while Kurt was at the office in my rooms, surfing the web and designing my wedding gown or working on my embroidery. That evening, Kurt was in an unusually happy mood when I greeted him at the door at the end of the day . He kept me waiting until we were eating dinner.

"We have met with Carla and her lawyers today, Jacqui." Kurt was unable to keep it to himself any longer and he had a huge smile. I waited for him to tell me everything, trying hard not to display my eagerness to know the outcome.

"As I expected, she attacked you first with talk of deporting you back to Hong Kong." He chuckled, "It is amusing; I think that she has come to believe her own fabricated story."

"Next, she was going to charge you with grand larceny. That is not the exact accusation, but claims you stole your uniforms when you left."

"My contract specifically states that uniforms and accessories were included as part of my compensation." I replied angrily at the absurdity of it. "It is a prima facie case — not guilty as charged."

"I know, I know." Kurt chuckled. "Calm yourself, liebling."

"Paul pointed her sharp beak to that clause in your contract. Carla was not pleased to be shown up so easily."

"He then carefully pointed out the evidence in your favor to her lawyers," Kurt continued, but stopped and began to eat his dinner when Henry placed our plates before us. I waited impatiently until we’d finished supper.

"As you might expect, Carla was livid with rage, but wisely remained silent."

"She had better," I giggled. "What next, Kurt?"

"Paul presented a proposal demanding that she turn over the entire company to you plus twenty-five million dollars."

"I don’t want the damn company and, besides, Carla doesn’t have that kind of money." I countered.

"We know that and didn't expect her accept it, but they need to understand how serious we are and how much Carla stands to lose if she plays this wrong. So, we expect a counter offer," he explained "and we will counter that. It is negotiation, Jacqui."

"I understand that you do not wish to become involved with the Immigration and Naturalization Service, the FBI or the police. Carla may try to play that card, but she is at much greater risk than you are, and her lawyer was smart enough to appreciate the magnitude of the evidence that you have." Kurt gave me the confidence that Carla would not do anything stupid. I turned pensive.

"Kurt?"

"Ja, liebling?"

"Kurt, do you think that Carla resorted to murder to do this to me?" I felt very saddened by that possibility.

"Ah!" he slapped his forehead. "Ich bin eine Dummkopf.

"Jacqui, Adrian believes that he has found her."

"What, in a grave near where they found the driver’s license?" I was still trapped by Carla's negativity.

"No, no, in Los Angeles. He is flying there next week to follow up a strong lead."

"Stop just trying to make me feel better, Kurt." I don't need false hopes to cheer me up.

"It is true. Carla issued an International money order to a man in Singapore in January for twenty-five thousand dollars. The other Jacqui Chang traveled there two weeks later. Apparently she never left the airport and retuned to Hong Kong on the next flight."

"So? What does that prove, Kurt?"

"It is a beginning," he stated. "One week after she arrived in New York, one ‘J. L. Ingram’ flew from Newark to Los Angeles. The ticket was purchased on Carla’s credit card again."

"You’re not teasing me, are you?" I was skeptical.

"Certainly not, Jacqui.

"It was also interesting to learn what you used to do for a living?"

"Me?" I squeaked. "We already know what I used to do." I was too focused on the details to even guess he might be joking.

"No, liebling, not John, Jacqui Lian Chang. She was a makeup artist in the film industry in Hong Kong and a part time actress. Adrian is seeing if he can obtain some of your tapes while out on the coast. They should be … educational." Kurt was laughing and I caught on to just what he was saying. I threw my napkin at him.

***

I had finalized the design of my dress and commissioned Suzanne to make it for me. Planning my wedding became the focus of my attention during the day when Kurt was at work. With my divorce having been finalized before my life as a maid had begun, there was no reason for us to think that later was better than sooner for our ceremony. Kurt was my life. Other than occasional updates on the status of negotiations, I did my best to forget about Carla.

Not being controlled and dominated any longer by Carla, I gained increased confidence in public. I’d been frightened and shy when I’d first been forced to go out in uniform, but serving the crowd at Carla’s last party had stripped away that silliness. Standing about in bright sunlight and serving strangers while wearing a ridiculously abbreviated French Maid’s uniform and ultra high-heels had taught me that I could do just about anything.

End of Part XI

_______________________________________________________________

We set the date for the day after Thanksgiving. It would be a small wedding with the reception at the house. I no longer had many friends left, so Kurt limited his guest list too. Suzanne had agreed to be my Matron of Honor and her husband, along with Jayne and her husband were my only guests, although I’d never met the men. Kurt’s brother, Karl was going to best man and Karl’s wife, along with, Joseph Marlin and his wife as guests. Joseph was the President and COO of Mark Seven. I’d met him once, or rather John had. I doubted anyone except Toni Bauer could connect our pasts any longer.

Karl and his wife were due in three days before our wedding. Kurt asked me to go with him to Kennedy to pick him up. Of course, I agreed.

"Certainly. What time would you like to leave?" I asked.

"Their plane lands at three. We should leave the house no later than noon. There's no predicting New York traffic except that on the day before Thanksgiving it will be horrible. I must go to the office for a few hours first thing in the morning. I’ll ask Henry to drive me there then return to the house to drive you when it’s time to leave."

"I’ll be ready. Do you want to dine out?" I suggested.

"No, I’ll instruct Anna. Karl and his wife will be too tired from their flight."

When I got up in the morning, Kurt was already gone and Henry hadn’t yet returned. I went down to breakfast in a fantastic mood.

"Good morning, Anna," I sang. She was seated at the table. Tears were streaming from her eyes when she turned.

"Anna, Anna, What’s wrong?" I grasped her hands and squeezed. It took a lot of coaxing to get her to tell me.

"My father just called," her head motioned to the wall phone. "My mother has had a heart attack and is in the hospital."

"Then you must go to her now, Anna." I said.

She just sobbed. "Miami isn’t exactly an hour drive from North Jersey. How will we ever get a flight so close to Thanksgiving?" she managed to say. I debated telephoning Kurt, but he’d told me the meeting that morning was a very important one. Instead, I called his travel agent and told them about our problem. The receptionist hemmed and hawed, but as soon as I got on line with one of the owners, our problem was solved. Within fifteen minutes they had gotten Henry and Anna First Class tickets on a flight out of Philadelphia in the early afternoon.

As soon as Henry came home, I filled him in and told, no, ordered him to take Anna to Florida. It was the only time I had ever had to yell at Henry. He wanted to disobey me and started to protest, but I raised my eyebrow at him and he shut up. Then he gave me an unexpected hug, held me at arm's length and said, "Thank you Jacqui. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Don't you dare return until Anna's mother is all better," I said, sounding to myself like somebody's mother. "Take care of your family. I can take care of Kurt." Then I leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He blushed, looked down, and nodded.

Over their vociferous protests, I'd also had the travel agent arrange for Kurt's limo company to take Henry and Anna to the airport, and I'd rented them a car for them in Florida. What the hell, I reasoned. Henry was used to driving the best. I got them a Lincoln Town Car. When Henry tried to pay me back I just glared at him.

I softened. "Henry, you and Anna have been wonderful looking after Kurt since his wife died. Now, you must accept our generosity in return."

He pursed his lips once, twitching them to the side, and then said, "OK. Thank you. This really will make everything easier. Thank you."

As I watched the limo driver help them into the car, I got a really wild idea, thinking Kurt would get a big kick over it. The last time I'd played this role it had been horrible for me, but I wasn’t going to let those thoughts to interfere with plans and went up to change.

Driving the big Rolls Royce was a new experience, especially because I was wearing six-inch heels and it was a stick shift. At least it hadn’t been built for use in England with the driver on the right side. Going slowly, I managed to get down the long driveway onto the street. As I already knew, it was a big car, although driving it gave me a whole new appreciation for what big meant. I’d left plenty of time and increasingly gained confidence as I drove along.

Although I hadn't realized it would happen, I also had a great time because of all the double takes I was getting. People would first notice the car, and as they stared at it, they noticed me too. That really blew them away. 'Look at that gorgeous Chinese chick driving that huge old Rolls', their faces seemed to say. As my role demanded, however, I kept a thoroughly professional demeanor, except for the half dozen or so single guys I winked at just to enjoy their reaction. Still, I reached Mark Seven right on time.

I guessed Kurt had been watching and came out just as I’d stopped in front. He didn’t even wait until I exited to tend the door for him. When I felt the door close, I chuckled. He couldn’t stop me now. I eased out the clutch.

"Henry, where’s Jacqui?" the gosport barked. I had to stop laughing and concentrate on pulling into traffic. He repeated the question.

" ‘Ow’s that guv’?" I barely controlled my giggling. Of course, he couldn’t help, but to recognize my voice.

"Jacqui, where’s Henry? Why are you driving car?"

I explained about Anna’s mother and what I’d ordered them to do. I omitted telling my fiancé how I was dressed and he didn’t think to ask. The partition prevented him from seeing me.

"Now just try to relax, Kurt. I’m being careful and we’ll get to Kennedy on time." Maybe he relaxed, but I couldn’t. Traffic was heavy, it seemed everybody was suffering from road rage and the car was still gigantic. Something else began to worry me once I’d become used to the heavy car; Thanksgiving dinner I could handle, but who was going to do all the preparations for my wedding?

"Jacqui, do be careful. It’s starting to snow." Like I needed him to tell me that!

"Yes, sweety, I’m being very careful. Would you like to drive instead?" I cringed a little at the sarcasm in my voice, but I guess he got my message because he shut up after that.

By the time I stopped the car in front of the International Arrivals building, an inch of snow covered the ground and it was falling heavily. Mindful of my heels and the snow, I walked to the door and opened it while executing a curtsey.

"We’ve h’arrived at Kennedy H’airport, guv’."

"Oh, mein, Gott!" Kurt stared at the black PVC uniform I was wearing, but, a moment later, he started to laugh.

"Park my car then join me inside." He barely managed to get that out before he started laughing again and he walked quickly inside shaking his head and holding his hand over his mouth, laughs breaking through his fingers.

I found him waiting just inside when I entered. His big smile told me that I’d made him happy.

"But why, Jacqui? Why did you put on that uniform?" he asked once I was beside him.

"To have some fun. Besides, it just wouldn’t have looked right if I was dressed like a lady driving your tank. Would it?" He chuckled and led me deeper into the terminal.

"Gut, their flight from Geneva is forty minutes early."

"Geneva? On our first date, I thought you had told me Karl lived in Cologne?" I questioned.

"No, liebling. What I said was that he was working in Koeln then. He has been a Switzer for more than ten years."

"I see. Tell me about his wife?" I asked quietly while we waited.

"Katie, Katrinka actually. I know little about her and we’ve never met. Karl and Katie married a year ago while he was on holiday last Christmas in the Canary Islands. On the moment, Karl was a bachelor, but by the time his Christmas card arrived, he was married. I am looking forward to meeting my sister-in-law for the first time. I understand she is gorgeous and I know she has Karl wrapped around her little finger." We didn’t have long to wait.

"Ah, there is Karl." Kurt began to wave. I scanned the crowd, not knowing who I was looking for.

My heart stopped when a man, nearly as large as Kurt, but at least ten years younger, moved forward with his arms outstretched! They spoke German much faster than I could begin to comprehend and hugged each other exuberantly. It didn’t matter, I was focused on the woman who stood back with the luggage. She must have been Karl’s wife.

I moved forward, curtseyed, but didn’t speak, praying she wouldn't either. I took hold of the large luggage cart, curtseyed to her again and started out.

"I’ll be fetching the motor, guv." Kurt didn’t stop me. They followed me to the doors where I left the bags.

There are advantages to driving a Rolls Royce in a snowstorm and parking it in a ‘No Parking’ zone just inside the lot. It wasn’t ticketed.

I drove around the loop then stopped next to the entrance. The weather being what it was, Kurt led them out before I’d the door open, but I closed it then placed the luggage in the boot.

While driving in the snow with the heavy traffic on the roadways was bad, I managed to get us home, albeit in four hours. Karl and Katie were asleep. I was exhausted, the strain of the long difficult drive made me feel like I had just taken a transatlantic flight. I wanted someone to take care of me. I missed Henry and Anna already!

"Guv, I need to talk to you, privately." I’d tugged Kurt’s sleeve and whispered. His look told me he’d understood.

Five minutes later, as I was just beginning to change, Kurt came to my rooms.

"What is it, Jacqui? You look worried. Is something wrong with you?" Kurt asked as I stripped off my gauntlets.

"No, there's nothing wrong, but I am very concerned."

"But why? My brother and Katie are very much looking forward to meeting my future wife," Kurt was staring as he tried to figure out what my problem was.

"Kurt, darling. I have met your sister-in-law before, but her name wasn’t Katie or Katrinka." I handed him Angelique’s card, which I’d taken from my jewelry box before he’d come upstairs. I heard him draw in his breath. I told him what had happened the evening when I served the party at the Crawford’s.

"I knew the ballet would have been better," Kurt joked.

"How do you want me to do this, Kurt? I’ll put on my maid’s uniform, if you think that best?

"No, put on a pretty dress and behave as my fiancée. Unless she recognizes you, pretend that you never met Katie before. Come down when you are ready." Kurt left my apartment.

Almost an hour later, dressed in my original, dark green, embroidered cheongsam with black stockings and pumps, I entered the family room where they’d gathered before the fireplace, which was burning with a roaring fire. It really was a wonderful, sight. The light from the fire filled the room in front of the fireplace and the snow continued to fall heavily just behind the large windows that made up one side of the room. The three figures in front of the fireplace looked like they were out of a Christmas card.

"Good evening." From force of habit, I curtseyed, although I immediately felt stupid for having done it. I was so nervous I was shaking. Kurt and Karl stood at the sound of my voice and Kurt came to my side, putting his arm around my waist. I spooned into his side thankful for his presence. Katie stared briefly then jumped to her feet.

"Jacqui! Bon soir! Comment ca’ va?" She was smiling and grabbed me away from Kurt; hugging me tightly.

"Ca va, bien, Madame. Et vous?" Her greeting was not what I’d expected. I thought she would be withdrawn and suspicious, afraid I would reveal her secret. Instead, she greeted my like a dear old friend. Holding my hand, she tugged me before a bewildered Karl.

"Mon cher, c’est Jacqui, la soubrette." Katie switched to English. "You remember, I told you that I tried to hire a Chinese maid when I visited here last."

"This woman? You will have me to believe that you wanted to hire mein brother’s fiancée." Karl looked at Kurt then at me, as if I was to expected to confirm what his wife had just said. Then he started to laugh deeply. I didn’t understand, neither did Kurt; judging by his expression. Katie was giggling.

"Ist eine … how do you say? It is tiny world, not is it?" Karl’s command of English, while understandable, was not nearly as good as Kurt’s, plus, his accent was heavy. He turned to me.

"Und so, you know Maitresse Angelique then, Jacqui. Ist gut." He sat on the couch and Angelique or was it Katie, sat beside him.

"Und now, the necessary to pretend is not." Karl turned to his brother.

"Mein Frau ist eine Dominatrix, Kurt, un die Fraeulein ist eine Magd. Ist gut!" Karl attempted English. "A family are we!" He raised his empty stein in toast. Kurt did the same. I rose and went to the refrigerator behind the bar. She was right next to me when I rose with beer bottles in my hand.

"I’m really happy that we could meet again, Jacqui," she spoke to me in French.

"Maitresse, how should I address you?" I asked in kind.

"Friends, very close friends, call me Kat. We are friends, non, Jacqui?

"Now, tell me where are your uniforms? I think that I can fit into one." I knew that Kat had been assessing my body and I too had concluded she might if she laced her corset tightly.

"Pick what you’d like," I told her where my dressing room was located then served the beers to Kurt and Karl.

"I’m going to fix something to eat for us. Do either of you need anything in the meantime?" I asked.

"Where’d Katie, Jacqui?" Kurt asked.

"She went upstairs to change. I’m sure she’ll be down shortly."

The refrigerators, yes, there are three, and the pantry, were all well stocked for our guests, Thanksgiving and the wedding. I had more than enough food to select from. I made fried shrimp and French fries and had them well along when Kat entered the kitchen looking fantastic in my black kid, French maid’s uniform. With it, she was wearing black net tights and black thigh boots.

"I couldn’t find anything but stockings and your shoes are too small," she said apologetically. "Does this look alright?"

"You look great, Kat, very sexy. I waggled my eyebrows at her.

"How much do you want to get into being the maid tonight? I mean, you are our guest and you've just had a long plane ride."

"I want to play!" she giggled. "When I get too tired, I'll fall asleep, but in the meantime, Pour ce soir, vous etez, la Maitresse."

After learning that she couldn't really cook, I ordered her to set the table. I attended the men.

"Supper is underway, I’ll need to be in and out, but it should be ready shortly. Anything you’d like, Kurt? Karl?"

"Please to go up and inform Katie that we will eat shortly, Jacqui?" Karl asked.

"Your wife will not be joining us this evening, Karl." I stood in front of him as imperiously as I could, which probably wasn't very. I'd never been commanding as a guy, and as a woman, I was downright submissive.

"She did say that she was tired when in the auto." I wasn’t sure if he was saying that to Kurt or to me. I returned to the kitchen.

After all was ready and I checked that Kat knew how the table should be set, I gave her last minute instructions then invited the men to the table. No, Karl's wife wouldn't be joining us, but my new maid would be. In fact, she would be serving the meal.

When she first waltzed into the room, curtsying just inside the door, Karl's eyes went wide and Kurt actually dropped the fork he had been showing to Karl. It was a family heirloom then everyone broke out into laughter.

"You got her to do this?" Karl asked me, apparently astounded, "but, but…"

"Never underestimate the power of a woman," I said to him, before winking a half beat later.

He laughed again and shouted at Katie, "Fraeulein, wo ist mein Abendessen? I am starving." He laughed again. Katie came over to his seat and whispered something in his ear. He suddenly went rigid and nodded. Katie left the room a moment later to get the wine.

"What did she say, Kurt whispered to his brother.

Karl turned to him with a slightly guilty look on his face. "Little boys can be punished if they don't behave," he said.

Kurt and I looked at each other and burst into laughter yet again. By the time dessert was ready, Karl was in a frilly apron helping with the dishes. I can only guess what went on in their bedroom after they retired.

Thanksgiving morning, I eased out of bed early. There was a lot to do and I’d a plan to accomplish it. I slipped into the guest room. Covering Kat’s lips with my hand so she stayed quiet and didn’t wake Karl, I took her from the bed.

"You want to still play today, Kat?" I asked.

She grinned, "Oui! Je suis la soubrette," she answered. "You are la Maitresse and I must be in bondage." I let that go for the moment.

Kat was a total delight. We dressed identically in my black French uniforms, did breakfast for our men then prepped the turkey and all of the trimmings and got the meal underway. Our wedding party was coming for dinner.

"Jacqui," Kurt was in the doorway to my apartment when we’d finished chores and I’d taken Kat there to help me freshen up and change. Karl stood behind his brother.

"Katie is to be the maid. I think you have done enough of chores today. I want you by my side for our guests." He stated this authoritatively.

"Kurt, I came here to change, as you wish!" I was a bit testy. "Kat will be the maid today and be dressed as she is." I saw him stiffen at my words.

Karl spoke quickly to Kurt in German, far too fast, for me to understand. I saw Kurt grin.

"My brother wants to have Katie in your very sexy uniform, Jacqui, and she asked if we’ve any chains?" Hearing Kurt tell me Karl’s request caused me wrinkle my lips.

"I would prefer her wearing the uniform she has on or one of my satin ones, but she is not going to be prancing about with her breasts exposed or like a bondage model. I must insist on this, Kurt. There will be friends and business associates as our guests and I’m not going to permit this in our home." I didn’t want to upset Karl or ruin Kat’s fun, but I was going to stand my ground. "Thanksgiving is an important Holiday to be respected and not a sex show." I glared at both of them and waited for one to challenge me.

Karl spoke first, "Of course. The request was inappropriate; I apologize."

"Danke schoen," I dropped a formal curtsey, pleased that nothing further came of the matter. Karl excused himself and Kurt came into my room.

"Jacqui, it was wrong to have asked and put the decision on you. Perhaps you will play with her another time?"

"Kurt, I see that I have not fully explained how I feel. No one, but me will wear the uniform she requested and the only one who is going to see me when I do is you." At the time, even my husband to be hadn’t even known I had it. The subject was closed.

I finished dressing into a floor-length cheongsam of soft black velvet with white trim. It was the first time I’d worn it other than for the fittings. Carla had bought it for me to wear for the holiday meals; it was actually a uniform and there were appropriate accessories to accompany the dress. I didn’t put on the pinafore, but took it with me when I went downstairs.

After checking that Kat had things well under control in the kitchen, I inspected the dining room then joined Karl and Kurt by the fireplace.

"May I make a suggestion for tomorrow, Kurt?" I asked. Since Henry and Anna had left suddenly for Florida, I’d given a lot of thought to the wedding reception and how it might be accomplished. I’d given thought to Kat’s request also and had some ideas that just might work. I began, by telling the men these.

"I’d like to suggest that we cancel the reception here, after we are married." Kurt was clearly surprised by my unexpected request. "Everyone, especially me, is going to be very busy tomorrow and not have any time to devote to preparing for a big party here. It's my thought that we all go to a restaurant and party there?"

"In Switzerland, such would require months to prepare," Karl observed.

"Here too, normally, but the wedding party and guests are only five couples," I countered. "We could go somewhere with a band, just have a nice meal and enjoy. That way no one has to miss any of the fun." Kurt was smiling and nodded when I had stated my proposal.

"Where would you like to go, Jacqui?"

"How about Arnald’s restaurant that you took Henry and me too after the ballgame? I had fun dancing to the umpah band, Kurt."

"Ah! Yes that was fun, but I know a place better." Kurt was smiling broadly as he excused himself to make a phone call. I turned to offer my other suggestion to Karl.

"Kat wanted to play the kinky maid with me, Karl. I regret I disappointed her."

"The matter is closed, Jacqui," he replied. "There is not need to discuss this more."

"Yes, but I’ve an idea that might make your wife happy."

"Und was ist das, that, Jacqui?"

"I have another uniform that is a lot sexier than the one I wore to the airport to greet you. Do you think Kat might like being my chauffeuse tomorrow, driving the big Rolls Royce? I asked.

"Ja! She would like that!" Karl grinned. "Katie is, but a little girl, who likes to play."

Suzanne, Jayne and their husbands were the first guests to arrive, shortly after one o’clock. Dave Roberts, Suzanne’s husband, had been stationed in Germany while an Air Force pilot and spoke the language like a native. Of course, he hit it off instantly with Kurt and Karl.

Geoff Murphy was a stereotypical Irishman who could charm a stone. You couldn’t help but warm quickly to Jayne’s husband. If he wasn’t telling stories or jokes, he was attentively listening to another’s with rapt fascination.

Kat proved to be an excellent maid; scurrying about making sure that everyone's needs were fulfilled, while keeping dinner under control. She carried a big bottle of Italian wine when she escorted Maria and Joseph Marlin in about two. Joe’s grandfather had dropped the ‘i’ from Marlini when he’d immigrated to the United States, but the Italian heritage the couple shared fit in well with our international group.

With the guys glued to a bowl game on TV along with Maria, I showed off the house to Jayne and Suzanne.

"We’ll bring your dress over at noon and get you pretty for the ceremony and to the chapel on time.

"Don’t worry about getting there, Kat will be my chauffeuse and driving Kurt’s Rolls," I informed. "We’ll ride there together."

"Great. Where ever did you hire a real French maid in the short time you’ve been away from Ms. Martin, Jacqui?" Suzanne asked.

"I didn’t hire her. Kat is going to be my sister-in-law in just over twenty-four hours. She’s Kurt’s brother’s wife," I stated. "They live in Geneva where she has a substantial professional practice."

"She really plays the game well. I’d never guess her to be a doctor or lawyer. She’s awfully young too." Jayne was curious. "What profession is she in?"

"Nothing like you suggested," I grinned.

"Her boots should give us a clue, right, Jacqui?" Suzanne displayed a knowing smile.

"Right. Shall we join the guys?" I led them downstairs.

Before I knew it, Kat was gently shaking me awake. I couldn’t believe that I’d slept until ten the next morning, but then I hadn’t gone to bed until one.

"Bon, matin, Maitresse," she beamed.

"Good morning, Kat? Sleep well?"

"Ha, it is hard to sleep with a horny man, but yes once he was satisfied. If Karl’s big brother is anything alike, you just slept well for the last time," Kat teased.

Kat was the perfect lady's maid and I thoroughly enjoyed her ministrations throughout my toilette. It felt so luxurious to have her attend me that I decided it was something I could very easily become addicted to. As Kat began to dress me, I began then to think about someday having my own maid. But I vowed that I’d never treat her the way had Carla treated me.

A German-Victorian theme was what I had decided upon for my wedding ensemble, at least my underwear was. Kat wrapped the long white satin corset about me, hooked its busk and stepped back with a questioning expression.

"That is a very severe corset, Mademoiselle. Will you be able to endure it?" I'm sure she questioned that it was stem-waisted. By then, I normally laced to twenty inches, sometimes less, but never had tried a stem waist except when that corset had been fitted in the boutique. I'd worn it then for three hours to see if I could.

"Yes, it is, Katie. I'll lace as tightly as I usually do, so I'm sure, for my special day, I can last in this corset. Please get started?" My temporary maid grinned and went about her task. As my waist and chest shrank, I ran my fingers up and down my sides, delighting in the figure that metamorphosed in the mirror. A two-inch high vertical waist of just twenty inches was very attractive to me. I was getting mildly aroused just looking at myself.

The stockings were real silk, in a delicate lace pattern. Once Katie had smoothed them and straightened the seams until they were perfect, together, we fastened the ten raunched, garter straps to their tops. Each of the tabs was covered with a pink silk rose, forming a pretty flowered row about the top of each thigh.

"Please help me with my chastity belt, Kat?" I asked as I handed her the once hated prison.

"But why?" she questioned.

"Today, I will give my husband its key during the ceremony. My belt will become a symbol of my love, devotion and trust."

Her eyes widened and she exclaimed, "What a wonderful idea."

Silk drawers, in keeping with my theme, covered my legs from the rows of ruffled lace from my hips to below my knees, just above the steel band encircling them. They concealed my belt, the garters and wedding garter residing high on my left leg, just below the floral array.

I moved to my vanity and sat on the stool so Katie could fit the boots I'd selected. Real button-topped boots, the kind requiring a button hook to fasten, had proven impossible to find; at least impossible in the limited time I had to prepare for this special day. Forced to fall back on front laces, I had chosen six-inch heels and round toes which always made my feet look tiny and delicate. Carla had forced me to wear extreme heels so often, that they no longer bothered me.

"Smooth this everywhere above my corset, please?" I handed Katie an alabaster foundation pancake and sponge to apply it. "Try not to do it heavily, but so that it is translucent." She began on my shoulders and back while I started covering my face with the same product."

Forty minutes later, I modeled for myself in the triple mirrors, which dominated a corner of the room. "Tres, tres, jolie, Mademoiselle. Magnifique!" Katie complimented. I admit it; I am narcissistic enough to agree with her assessment. I looked great!

Once I was dressed in my bridal lingerie and had applied my makeup, we sipped tea. After a few minutes, Kat had me model for her digital camera, as she talked about what she did. Although I was very curious, I would never have asked about something so personal, but Kat was obviously quite comfortable talking about it.

"In Europe it is quite common for young women to work at what I do. We make fantastic monies, pay our taxes and live in luxury until too ugly from age to continue. If we invest wisely, the luxurious life continues until we go to heaven."

"Are you not afraid of AIDS or some other disease, Kat?" I asked.

"Only the stupid girl who have sex with their clients will risk it. I would not allow a client inside of me for all the gold in the world." She was then posing me on my large canopied bed.

"You will visit in our chalet so I can take proper photos soon, Jacqui, n’est pas?

"Kurt has said we might visit Europe next summer. I’d like to do that." Being posed wearing my corset, drawers, stockings and high-heeled boots that made me look like a Victorian girl was a lot of fun. Before we knew it, the doorbell rang to announce that Suzanne and Jayne had arrived.

First the florist then the photographer came shortly after they had. Jayne had suggested that I use Ashley, a promising young photographer they had used for advertising at the store. I liked the tall, thin brunette immediately.

"Ah, finally the perfect model in the perfect set," she moved rapidly about my bedroom for several minutes, looking at shooting angles and lighting then turned to me.

"Jacqui, if you give me a model release and let me photograph you another day too, I’ll do your wedding at no charge," Ashley offered. Before I could respond, she sweetened the pot. "I pay good models fifteen hundred a day and if I shoot anything I can sell today, you get paid for getting married too. Deal?" Before I could say anything, she added that she did not sell to men’s magazines and was targeting fashion magazines, as well as a coffee table book she’d been working on.

"Your cute maid gets paid for today too and I’ll need a release from her as well, Jacqui." Though she moved and spoke with authority, I found pony-tailed Ashley very attractive in her tight leather jeans, knee-boots and fitted jacket. I nodded my assent, hoping that Kurt wouldn’t mind.

"OK, give me a moment to get the lights setup and I’ll grab some shots of you. Maybe your maid can loosen your corset then retighten it for the camera." Kat moved right behind me and went to work.

Suzanne and Jayne unwrapped my gown, veils and petticoats when Ashley said it was time to finish dressing me.

The gown was in a design I'd put together myself from the ideas I'd found on the Web. It was in a dirndl style with a fitted bodice of soft white doeskin with the characteristic large pouffed shoulders and long sleeves. Because my inspiration was taken from the native costumes of Austria, I knew Kurt would be thrilled with the style. To fulfill my own long held fantasy of a gown made of loud, rustling petticoats and taffeta skirts, that is what I'd commissioned. They would stand the skirt out from my body and create the most delicious frou-frou.

I added one more, special touch. I had finally come to be proud of having been a maid. Like Melissa, I saw no shame in that profession and proclaimed my belief by wearing a starched white apron, which contrasted with the ecru, nearly floor-length skirt that didn't quite conceal my boots.

Ashley must have taken several hundred pictures by the time I was seated in the car and Kat, now in my black leather uniform, closed the door and went in front to drive us there.

"Nervous, Jacqui?" Jayne asked.

"No, but I’m very excited. A year ago, I’d have never have dreamed this to be possible," I answered.

"From the first time we saw you, Jayne and I couldn’t understand why some handsome man hadn’t married you already and speculated that you were one of those girls who might only like other pretty girls," Suzanne joked.

"Well, if the right one came along, I might be tempted," I quipped in reply. "I might even be tempted if she wore pants." I saw the sisters exchange glances.

"Pants like the polished black leather ones Ashely’s wearing, Jacqui?" My grin gave me away. They giggled.

"Well, hate to burst your bubble, but our photog friend is still a guy, despite how good she looks as a girl."

"You’re kidding me, right, Suzanne?" I knew that they weren’t, but I wasn’t about to let them think I'd once been one too.

Suzanne’s red velvet and taffeta gown, also in a dirndl style, wasn’t nearly as full as mine, but she still needed help getting out of the car. When my turn came, both of my friends and Kat had to guard my cream colored skirt to keep it clean. All on my taffeta petticoats made it nearly four feet across if they weren’t compressed. Suzanne had suggested a hoop skirt to achieve the look I’d designed, but I wanted to hear the frou-frou. We hurried out of the cold air and into the small room at the front of the chapel.

With Ashley shooting pictures, my Matron of Honor arranged my gown, veils and bouquet. She continued to primp and preen me until the pianist started to play.

"Ready?" she asked. I could only nod. "Good luck!"

We exited and she positioned me in the vestibule then got to her place before me. On cue from one of the chapel ushers, Suzanne started to advance slowly down the aisle.

Though most of my vision was obscured by the seven layers of veiling, I was a bit saddened when I saw the sea of empty pews in the room, momentarily regretting that we hadn’t waited to pull off a big wedding. I dashed that sort of thinking as soon as I spotted Kurt before the altar. He was smiling at me proudly and that was all that mattered.

The familiar strains on the Wedding March began to reverberate and I began my walk. I was very happy.

"Repeat after me. Do you, Jacqui Lian Chang, take this man … Kurt Oskar Mark … to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold … to cherish and nourish … to attend and to care for … through sickness and health … through times lean and bountiful, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"You may kiss the bride." A woman, to my left, started to cry. Briefly, I questioned who it might be.

Kurt started to raise my veils. "Are you wearing enough, Liebling?" he quipped. With my face clear, my husband took me in his arms and drew me to him then enveloped my lips with his own. It was heavenly!

Before we broke apart, I whispered into his ear. "Kurt I have a special present for you." I pulled my hands from around his neck and lifted a key on a long chain from inside my apron. "Don’t lose this," I said softly. You’ll need it later."

"You didn’t?" he whispered back; a huge smile splitting his face. I just nodded shyly.

"I wanted you to know just how important this is to me. Locking myself away for you is a symbol of that.

"Let’s go greet our guests."

Just for tradition, we formed the wedding party into a receiving line in the vestibule, even though we had hardly any guests, just Maria, Joe, Jayne and Geoff. I was talking with Maria, when a very familiar voice softly said my name. I turned to see Toni Bauer smiling shyly.

"Congratulations, Jacqui." She offered her hand. "I’m so very happy for you."

"Hello, Toni. Give me a kiss. I’m pleased that you’ve come." The weekend before, I had called her house, to settle my doubts that she had actually been an accomplice in Carla’s dastardly acts, but had only gotten the answering machine. I thought that she'd not returned my call, but I later learned that Henry had talked with her on Tuesday night. With the unfortunate events of Wednesday morning, he’d simply forgotten to tell me. Of, course I invited her to our diner and was happy when she accepted my invitation.

Kat drove us to a large German restaurant in Watchung, which I had never even heard about. It turned out that he Kurt was close friends of the owners there too, Georg and Judy Beirmeister. It was quite crowded when we went in, but the crowd fell silent when the band launched into the Wedding March to a lively polka beat.

My wonderful husband wasted no time in sweeping me onto the dance floor and soon we were twirling and dancing together on the maple parquet. I had dreamed of dancing like that. It didn’t matter in the least that my wedding gown was ecru and not the dark green of my fantasy. I was very happy.

Several tables had been set up in a U-shape for us in a private room, which, even on such short notice, had been decorated for a wedding reception, complete with a small wedding cake.

Toni was the only one eligible to catch my bouquet. Ashley surprised nearly everyone, but Suzanne, Jayne and me; she unashamedly stating her true gender when it was time for the garter toss and handed a camera to Kat to photograph the event.

When they broke from their kiss, Toni reached and squeezed Ashley’s breast through her silk blouse. "They’re real, guys!" All of us broke into laughter and Ashley bounced to jiggle them.

"Yes, all me," she giggled in her girlish voice. It was quite heartening to see she was so open about herself, not carrying around the shame that had always haunted me.

Kat, still wearing the leather chauffeuse uniform, helped me up to my rooms when we got home. Kurt and I had decided to spend our wedding night at home and to plan for a belated honeymoon later. I was as skittish as a lost kitten as she undressed me, but it was taking so long for her to unbutton the dress, I was beginning to think she'd never get it off and I'd have to go to Kurt still wearing it. She was eventually able to finish, jabbering on all the time in French about how stupid it was to have a wedding dress that was so hard to get off.

"Madame, cette habillement est ridicule!" Kat stated as she worked.

"Pour quoi? C'est tres jolie, n'est pas?"

"But so many buttons. On your wedding night, it should be quick to remove." I giggled at her reason for calling my beautiful gown ridiculous.

I'd already decided that I'd wear most of the lingerie I’d put on that morning. But I did switch my long silk drawers for a pair of French cut panties that just covered my chastity belt, and added a lovely lace encrusted, sheer white peignoir that I'd bought just for this occasion.

"Jacqui, you must change your boots," Kat said, as she looked me over. "You are going in to tempt your man to make love to you. Do you want to have to stop to unlace them?"

"Non," she went on before I could say a word. "You most certainly do not. I'll find you something easier to slip off." She came up with a pair of five-inch white pumps that Carla had once ordered for Melissa and me, although we'd seldom worn them.

"There, these will be much better," she said with conviction as she knelt before me. I steadfastly refused to change my footwear.

"Perhaps I should loosen the corset so you can get out of it easily."

"Kat," I admonished her. "Just relax. Kurt likes to take my corset off; it's part of the game for him. Besides, I like it. It makes me feel secure and right now, I'm very nervous.

"Well … of course you're nervous, cherie, you are about to be ravaged by your new husband. Every girl is nervous on her wedding night."

I wanted to shout out that I was a virgin and didn’t know anything about getting ravished, but stopped myself, thinking this was something Kat didn't need to know right now. "Brush my hair, please," I said instead, "I think that will help calm me down."

"I know," she said brightly. "You need some champagne. That will loosen you up. I'll be right back." Kat started for the door.

"No! I squealed, losing complete control of my voice in my hurry to stop her. "I don't drink." I lowered my head so she couldn't see my face, but then looked back up. "I was an alcoholic, so I had to give it up." She looked at me questioningly. I nodded, ashamed at my past behavior.

"Oh Jacqui, that is just marvelous; so many people cannot do that. You must be a very strong woman."

"Well, I don't know about that," I replied, "but I don't drink any more. Please brush my hair for a few moments?"

She nodded her head knowingly and came back to my side. Taking my hand, she led me to the vanity, where she seated me and began to brush my hair. As she did, she started to describe how I looked and how Kurt would react when he saw me.

"What a gorgeous China Doll you are," she started. "Very mysterious looking because there is something else in your face in addition to China. Your eyes are big and dark and your fluttery lashes are just so romantic, and you have such high cheekbones! Any model would be glad to trade with you."

By this time, I was blushing furiously and, as I glanced down, I could see the flush start to expand over my chest, running down into my cleavage. My hands came up without me willing them to, and I laid them on the exposed tops of my breasts, the fire-red fingernails a striking contrast to my pale skin.

A moment later, I could feel Kat tight against my back and her hands covered mine from behind. She reached down and nuzzled my neck with her lips. When I felt her breath, I tilted my head to give her better access. She felt just wonderful!

I jumped. "What are you doing?" I asked, startled that I had let her begin to seduce me.

"Jacqui, relax. I'm just warming you up a little." She smiled at me adoringly in the mirror. It's time for you to go to your man."

It was strange. Kat opened the door for me. With my peignoir fluttering around my calves and my high heels forcing me into a short stride, I walked with her towards Kurt's bedroom, the master bedroom, the bedroom where I would be sleeping in a bed together with my husband for ever after.

It was strange. What could have been better than having my calves tightened, the tilt of my pelvis changed and a small sway forced onto my gait because of those wonderful heels. Now, those delightful old feelings, combined with the new one of having nothing compressed between my legs, started to dissolve the apprehension that had accompanied me out of my room. I started to swing my hips, trying to feel sexy. I was a sexy woman; I was very proud of myself.

As quickly as that thought raced through my mind, it was undone. Kurt's house was big, and the hallway was long, or so it seemed to me. Perhaps because Kat was at my side, lightly holding my arm, I started to feel a bit like a condemned convict, on her way to the gallows. I threw that thought aside quickly, as well.

There was no regret in me about being Jacqui now. God, I was a bride! Could all this possibly be true? I sent my mind to search out the feelings that were coming from my body just to check; there was so much more than just my calves and hips.

My breasts were only slightly contained and they bobbled aggressively begging for attention. I knew they would get it too, as soon as Kurt was allowed near them. He loved them at least as much as I did. He had already made that clear by all the attention he paid to them any time I let him.

The corset that held me was still tight and comforting. I guess I really was a corset freak. I loved the way they felt even when they were uncomfortable. I just couldn't get over the way they made me look. OK, I did look something like an Oriental Barbie doll, but hell, I just loved it!

'Oh shit, there's his door. Are we there already?' I was just beginning to get into what was going on. I stopped six feet away.

"Jacqui?" I heard Kat ask, from very far away. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" I replied, slowly coming out of my reverie.

"Why did you stop?"

"Kat, I'm scared." I only realized just how nervous I was when I said it.

Kat giggled, "Of course you are, silly. I already told you, every girl is afraid on her wedding night.

"Were you?" I asked, finding it hard to believe that could have been possible.

"Of course I was!" she said, as if I must have been crazy to ask. "Now give me a kiss and get in there. A new wife shouldn't keep her husband waiting. And remember, dear, just give yourself to him. That is your job tonight and every other night. Never give him a reason to look at another woman. Do you understand?"

'Just give myself to him?' Did I understand? Not really, but that did seem to make things quite simple. That was something I could probably remember. In fact, it seemed like a really good idea. Just give myself to him. Yes. That would be wonderful. I would give myself to my husband. I shuddered with unanticipated delight at the prospect.

"Knock," Kat whispered. "Knock. We've been standing here too long." Before I could react, she knocked.

"Come in," Kurt seemed to boom out from the other side. It might have been a whisper, actually, but it didn't matter. It was a command that went to my soul. It thundered there.

I looked at Kat with panic in my eyes. It must have been in my eyes because it was flooding my body. My heart rate had rocketed to a speed only seen during an arrhythmia and I was breathing so fast, I couldn't catch my breath.

Kat gave me a thoroughly frustrated look and gestured towards the door with her head. I was frozen. I couldn't move. She just rolled her eyes at me and reached for the knob, pushed the door open and thrust me inside.

"Jacqui, liebling. Come in," Kurt's voice was full of love and anticipation. I looked around for Kat, but she had closed the door and was probably already well down the hallway towards the stairs. I was on my own.

Kurt was standing in the middle of his room. There was a rather generous sitting area just inside the door, with a love seat and two wing chairs, all covered in the soft dark brown leather. Kurt and I had sat together in this very room on any number of evenings and had spent a good deal of time on the love seat making out. Now, he stood by one of the chairs, his hand resting easily on the high back. He wore a midnight blue silk robe, tied loosely with a sash. The key I had given him was around his neck. It was obvious that he wore nothing else. When I looked back to his face after making that discovery, the look of love in his eyes just melted me.

"Oh, Kurt," escaped from my lips on its own. I was startled, because it didn't sound like my standard squeak; it was throaty, hoarse and full of need. ‘Give yourself to him’ was loud in my thoughts. Yes, that sounded like a terrific idea. It's just what I wanted to do. Maybe he couldn't get erections, but that was no reason he shouldn't feel that I loved him with all my soul.

I took a tentative step then stopped short. 'No, Jacqui' I thought to myself, 'don't be tentative. Show him what you've got.' I put one foot in front of the other and twisted my hips so one was thrust out to him. I slowly ran my free hand up my thigh and let it rest on hip then swiveled my torso so my chest was directed right at him. Straightening to my full height, I looked him right in the eye.

"Mein Herr,' I purred, as best I could. "I've been looking for you." Oh God, did I actually say that? He must think I'm an idiot, but he didn't. I could see it in his eyes. They lit up even more. It took me a few steps to reach him. He kept his eyes on me the whole time. I could see them flit around my body, trying to take all of me in. First, they visited my groin, where they searched for my chastity belt, I’m sure, then they traveled around my hips, noticing with a smile the row of flowers my garters created. Then they ran down my legs, but they didn't linger long there. Instead, they seemed irresistibly drawn to my breasts, which I was doing my best to display. By the time I got to him, he had to drag his eyes up to mine to meet my look.

Despite my seeming bravado, I was scared to death. I had used up all my courage just walking into the room. Left to my own devices, I probably would have stood there all night looking at him, but this man had no intention of leaving me on my own.

"Liebling," he said softly, "I have never been happier than today. Come, share my love; let me share yours." My heart wasn't racing any longer; it was going more like pitter-patter. I was completely disarmed. Did he mean it? He had to; the look on his face and the clarity of his eyes made that clear.

He took my hand and led me through the sitting area to the side of his bed. We were standing at the side of the bed with the backs of my knees against the mattress and Kurt facing me.

"This will be your bed too, from now on," he whispered.

"Kiss me," I whispered urgently. "I need…"

He took my face in his two hands and kissed me lightly on the lips. Then he kissed me more aggressively, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to him. I followed his lead, opening my lips to hurry his tongue into my mouth and running my arms up to drape them around his neck.

As he pushed against me, I pulled him down on top and we toppled onto the bed. He was careful to twist so he would fall next to me and not hurt me. My husband turned and started to kiss my face and throat. I loved the feeling of his lips in the small hollow of at the base of my neck.

"Liebling," he whispered, "I want you."

"Only if you kiss the back of my neck first," I teased.

"My dear," he said haughtily, "You are now my wife. You are in no position to make demands."

"Oh?" I squeaked, arching an eyebrow. Kurt laughed and rolled me over, showering the back of my neck with kisses. After a minute or so, he started to fondle my breasts, being careful not to touch the nipples.

"Oh…" I started to moan. The combined feeling of his lips on my neck and shoulders and his hands on my breasts began to turn me on. I arched my back trying to get him to rub harder.

My breath was coming much faster, and although I wasn't aware of it, all the fear I had been feeling had evaporated. There was no room in my brain for anything but the sensations Kurt was creating in my body.

He licked his way up the side of my neck to my ear, and started to nibble on the lobe. He flicked his tongue around, tracing the wire that held my front earring before pulling it into his mouth and pulling my ear down with it; that made me squeal, anew.

"My nipples, suck on my nipples, please," I begged.

He grinned while rolling me back over to face him then rolled us both so he was on his back and didn't have to support his weight. Being able to look down at him and see the love in his face loosed an unexpected wave of desire that shivered through my entire body. Before he could reach his lips up to my nipples, I grabbed his head and mashed my lips into his. We kissed like that for many minutes, playing with each other's lips and tongues, while I caressed his face and hair and rubbed my breasts all over his chest.

With his hands free, Kurt started to rub them down the sides of my body and over my ass and thighs. When he put both of his hands between my thighs and started to separate them gently, I thought I would go nuts. He had not yet touched me down there because we had decided that I would be a total virgin, at least as a girl, on my wedding night.

My first response was to try to clench my legs together in surprise. When Kurt stopped our kiss and gave me a look that was both a question and a command, I let them relax and then slowly opened them so they fell on either side of his then I dove back into our kiss.

"Kurt," I softly cooed, "please remove my belt. I want to feel you there?"

"You are so soft and smooth," he whispered to me through our kiss as he ran his fingertips over the sensitive skin on the insides of my thighs. "Perhaps it is time to remove your armor." The decision had to be his. I'd given Kurt the key during our wedding ceremony and had thereby handed him sole control of my sex.

As I thrilled to the idea of him having such control over me, I realized he wasn't as soft as I had anticipated. His penis was actually getting a little turgid, which both scared and thrilled me. I knew he could never get fully hard, but the fact that I could make him respond at all excited me in an unanticipated way.

I lifted off him and reached down between us to grab his organ. Yes, it had grown a little. It was filling and now had a heft I had never experienced. If this was getting him excited, I wanted more. "Yes, my love, please take it off. My husband should know every part of me."

He had me stand beside the bed while he got down on his knees so he could kiss the skin between my thighs once again. Then he slowly worked my panties down my legs so I could step out of them. The front shield of the chastity belt stared him in the eye. He examined it for a moment before finally taking the key from around his neck and unlocking the belt.

I had to instruct him how to get it fully off, but once he had, he carefully set it aside, grabbed the cheeks of my ass and pulled himself slowly forward to bury his face between my legs, kissing and nibbling his way around, exploring every fold and crevice as he went.

"Oh God," I moaned at the unexpected feelings. I had squatted slightly to give him better access and he had taken advantage of that by tonguing, licking and nibbling at my lips as if he were trying to memorize their shape with his lips and tongue. His tongue was all the way to the bottom of my slit, when he slowly opened my nether lips with it and carefully ran his tongue all the way to the top, opening and moistening me at the same time.

I had to grab his head for support as my legs got weak and my breathing ragged. "Oh Kurt, don’t stop. That feels incredible." Before I'd finished, he ran his tongue back down again, this time burying it even more deeply and opening me more. Then he ran it back up one more time.

I couldn’t take it, and moaning, I collapsed in front of him. When I had caught my breath, I whispered to him hoarsely, "I’m never letting you go."

"Nor I you, liebling," he whispered back before standing up and helping me onto the bed. Once he had me on my back, he dove diving down to my breasts once again.

As I looked up, Kurt reached down and sucked the nipple of my left breast all the way into his mouth, licking it furiously with his tongue the whole time. "Oh," I moaned slowly, he continued to suckle the nipple already in his mouth, while grabbing the other with his thumb and finger to play with it.

I loved the pulling feeling he created on the nipple he was sucking, but was even more excited by the friction his fingers were creating on the other nipple. At the same time, I began to grind my groin against his thigh, rubbing it in a circular motion that created feelings I had never before experienced.

After a few moments, he switched. Now, the nipple he was rubbing with his fingers was wet and this created an entirely new set of feelings. I couldn't stand it, and pushed myself into his hand, mouth and thigh, trying to intensify the pleasure I was feeling.

I lifted myself up again to kiss Kurt. "Just wait," I gasped. "You'll get yours."

"Oh?" he asked casually, as if he hadn’t been doing a thing.

How could he be so sure of himself and so in control? I had a delightfully wicked thought; maybe I could change that.

"Yes, and I think the time is now." I rolled us over and slithered down his body, taking a few moments to play with his nipples and to suck on them before licking my way down the center of his abdomen towards his crotch.

I had only one thing on my mind — satisfying him. This lovely man had needs and I was going to do all I could to fulfill them. He had told me he enjoyed my sucking and I was going to start with that. Pulling the foreskin back, I licked around the head, moistening it.

Kurt had retained the fullness that I had noticed before and I enjoyed that firm feeling and the heft it gave him. As I lowered my head to take him into my mouth, making my lips into a small 'O' so I wouldn't rub my teeth on the sensitive skin, I had a strong feeing that this was something I had been meant to do. It all just seemed so right with my husband.

I began to slide my lips up and down its brief length while tonguing the head. I even began to suck, pulling it into my mouth that way, which I discovered made it seem a little longer. It helped too if I grabbed the base and circled it tightly with my thumb and index finger. I soon realized that I didn't need to hold the base anymore. Kurt's penis was beginning to stand up in my mouth. It was starting to grow!

"Mmmph … Nnnng…" I managed, as it filled my mouth. I felt scared and powerful at the same time. 'What was I supposed to do with this thing?' I thought in panic with one part of my brain. I looked up at Kurt who was staring down at me with a delighted look on his face. I think my wide, startled eyes almost made him laugh.

He nodded at me knowingly and said, "Mein Gott, Jacqui. You are amazing.

"I went to my doctor for medication, but he never led me to believe that I could get so ... again. It’s you. You turn me on like nothing ever has before." He grabbed me and hugged tightly for a moment.

Suddenly, without warning, I felt my body being lifted from the bed and twisted about, with Kurt's now large member and my mouth acting as a pivot point. When he set me down, I was lying on Kurt's broad chest and firm abdomen and his head was sandwiched between my thighs.

As I suckled, working to regain my control, Kurt's tongue started to explore the places in my body that he had just brought to life for the first time. He again worked his way around my outer lips, licking and lubricating them so he could burrow even more deeply. He found my most sensitive spot; when I jerked with surprise, he focused his attention there, slowly licking it and playing with it with his lips.

Briefly, his hands kneaded my ass then caressed their way up my sides before finding the middle of my waist. He didn't miss a lick as the knots of my corset were undone and the laces started to loosen quickly. I followed Kurt's lead and licked the stiff organ in my mouth, now slowly pumping my head; drawing suction on the out stroke. I was working to find a rhythm.

"Ah, mein Gott!" he mumbled, "Sie bist wunderbar, mein Frau!" I started to giggle.

"Sie bist sehr wunderbar, mein Herr," I paused briefly to say the words then plunged my head back down, almost gagging as he entered the top of my throat, but I managed to control it.

I continued to pump as deeply as I could while my wonderful husband sucked my clitoris into his lips. My breathing now came in short pants and gasps, not because of what I was doing, or because a corset was squeezing my chest, but because of what he was doing in my nether regions. I had never imagined anything could feel so good.

After several minutes, I let his penis out of my mouth, grabbed it with my hand, and whispered, "wait." I arched up to undo the busk of the corset. Kurt pulled the white garment away and put his hands around my chest, just under my breasts. He ran them down my sides, keeping his thumbs towards the middle. He could almost encircle my waist with his hands.

"Mmm…" he said. "What a marvelous woman you are; I am a lucky man to have such a gorgeous wife."

"No," I whispered back, suddenly feeling shy. I gazed directly into his eyes. "I am the lucky one." I gave him the most heartfelt kiss I could manage.

"Kurt mit eine K, Herr Mark, ict liebe dich." I never would have believed I could feel like this, but I was as certain about it as I am about anything. "Kiss me."

Gently, he took my head in both his hands and replied, "Mrs. Mark," — the very sound of that sent a chill up my spine - "I love you. After Erica died, I had resigned myself to never feeling love again. You have brought great happiness into my life." I was pulled down to his mouth and he kissed me just as I had kissed him only moments before. It was an intense kiss. As it went on, I wanted more and more to get even closer to Kurt. I had to have him inside me, I realized with a start. That was not a thought I had ever had before, even after I had met Kurt.

He had an erection. He could put himself inside me and I wanted him to.

"Kurt, I need you. I want you to fuck me. Please?" I reached for his penis and I started to fondle it, feeling it again harden in my hand. "Yes," I said, feeling certain. "I want you to fuck me!"

"Gut," Kurt replied. I flipped us over so I was now on my back and he kissed me deeply.

Kurt kissed his way to the creases that joined my thighs to my groin and began to tease the skin between my thighs with his fingers. His tongue soon followed and before too long, he was again licking my vagina, this time leaving it wet with his saliva.

I'd all I could do to not thrash about on the bed as he played between my thighs. At one point, I grabbed his head and pushed it forcefully into my groin, moaning.

Kurt returned to my clitoris, a spot he had carefully avoided for the last few minutes. After licking and sucking for a while, he grabbed the nub with his teeth, which raised me to the precipice.

"AHHHHHHHhhhh!" I screamed as my body went rigid, not because of any pain, but because of the earthquake of pleasure that suffused my being with waves of ecstasy. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. I was having an orgasm. It was both strange and intense. I had exploded inside, instead of outside and it was bigger and longer lasting than anything I had ever experienced.

Kurt had no intention of stopping. He continued to lick and suckle my now excruciatingly sensitive clitoris.

"Oh Kurt, I can't … It was too…"

"Rub gently, here" he urged. "Don't let the feeling disappear. Keep your eyes closed and concentrate on the feeling."

I did as he said. While I was carefully rubbing myself through the lips of my vagina, I could feel him shift on the bed and a few moments later, his finger entered me. He must have lubricated it, because it slipped inside easily. He withdrew then repeated the motion, adding lubrication to the inside of my vagina, working until he was sure I was fully coated.

Was I ready? Yes I was. I spread my thighs as widely as I could, while pulling my heels in towards my body to give Kurt access to my center. I knew that being a woman was much more than lying on your back welcoming a man to penetrate you, but I was also sure that this must be as womanly an experience as one could have.

Kat's instruction, 'give yourself to him', echoed again in my head. I responded to it eagerly. "Kurt, I am yours. Come take me. Make me your wife."

"You must guide me," he commanded gently. "Reach down and guide me into your body."

The insides of my thighs were facing upwards and Kurt's penis jutted assertively out from his body. I reached to grasp it and was slightly startled at its slipperiness. Kurt had lubed it as well. While I urged him towards me, Kurt bent forward, following my lead. "Push gently, Kurt. You are there."

"Ohhhh…" he thrust his pelvis and entered my slit. What a startling sensation it was to feel his erection fill me up and create sensations along the entire length of my insides. He gently stroked in and out, allowing me to get used to the feelings.

At first, I lay still, just savoring the feeling of having him buried inside me then without me even thinking about it, I began to thrust and twist my hips gently in time to Kurt's movements; that earned an appreciative groan from him and made me feel terrific.

"Fuck me, Kurt?" I asked plaintively. He pulled back, stopping only when the tip was at the very entranceway of my vagina. His failure to drive all the way home frustrated me. "Fuck me! Damn it!" I growled, showing my feelings with my tone of voice. He slid out and partially in again.

"Stop teasing me," I complained, my voice rising as I tried to thrust my hips up to impale myself. "Take me!" I screamed, now desperately wanting him. "Fuck me!"

Kurt let his weight go and he thrust deep within me. He hesitated only a moment, before withdrawing and plunging back down again with real force. I could feel the bed bounce beneath us as he drove his hips into mine. He withdrew again and started a rhythmic pumping motion. As he did, Kurt began to knead my breasts again. I covered his hands with my own to squeeze them harder.

He was so strong, I was now grunting in response to his thrusts and twisting my hips to amplify the remarkable feelings he was creating within me. This was completely different from when he'd licked and sucked on my clitoris and I could sense waves of pleasure that seemed more diffuse and distant. I reached my legs around his back and, no longer kicking, I pulled him into me even tighter on each down stroke.

All of a sudden, Kurt started to loose his rhythm and stiffen up. He rammed hard into me and I pulled him even tighter with my legs and arms. He bucked with his hips a few times then collapsed onto my body and lay still. He kissed my neck when he lifted his head, nibbled his way to my mouth.

"Ich leibe, sie, Liebling."

"Oh … Kurt! Ich liebe dich, auch!"

"I came," he said, his voice full of amazement. "I never thought that could happen again. You are amazing." I was too overcome with emotion to respond. I was lying on my back pulling my husband inside me as he slowly softened. I was deeply grateful to have him care for me.

I was a married woman who would be living life with a man she loved. He had given me my first female orgasm and been able to have his first in many years. I was overcome by the sum of all these events and started to cry silently, tears running down the sides of my face.

"Thank you, Carla," I whispered as we lay with Kurt still on top of me, recovering from his orgasm.

"What do you thank her for, Liebling?" he whispered. Kurt had rolled to turn onto his side next to me and propped his head to look down on me. Casually, he started to make little circles around my nipple with the tips of his fingers.

"For doing all of this to me," I replied, snapping out of my reverie. "I even thank her for forcing me to wear a chastity belt."

"But why, you hated it?" he questioned.

"Because this is how it is supposed to be, isn't it?" I could still see that Kurt didn't understand me. "Without it, I wouldn't have been a virgin on our wedding day. I wouldn't have discovered the joy of having my wonderful husband teach me how much pleasure there is for a husband and wife."

I turned to face him, gazing into his eyes. They were full of love. I grasped his shoulders and pulled him down onto me; meeting his lips with mine.

End of Part XII

_______________________________________________________________

"Jacqui, there is a large truck coming in the driveway," Kat announced. It was mid-morning and Kurt had taken his brother to show him the Mark Seven offices. I went to look, and sure enough, a large truck was backing into the driveway. I put on a coat and went outside to see why they were there.

"We have a delivery for Mrs. Kurt Mark. Do you know where we can find her, Miss?" The driver asked, as he looked me up and down with a grin. The other man had already started to open the rear of the truck.

"I’m Mrs. Mark," I said, thrusting my hands onto my hips and straightening up to show my displeasure at his behavior.

"Oh," he said, quietly. "Well," he stammered. "You need to sign this." He handed me a clipboard and went to help his partner.

It was an invoice from Precise Restorations All it said was ‘1 Motorcar NOIBN’. "One motorcar," I said aloud. I had no clue what the acronym meant. I walked back to where they were tilting the truck body and extending it towards the pavement. Looking inside, I saw a glistening red car. I immediately recognized the classic shape of a Jaguar XK-E. This one was so highly polished that it glistened even though it was still inside the truck and the sunlight couldn't reach it.

I stood there gaping at it as the winch unwound and the car came out. Once it had stopped, I rubbed my hand over the brightly polished hood ornament.

"What year?" I asked the driver.

"Sixty-six, XK-E convertible, with a blown Vette’ engine and five on the floor," he said, his voice brimming with pride, as if it were his own.

I looked at him a little confused.

He carefully explained to me, as if I were no more than a dumb redhead, that it was a Jaguar model XK-E convertible with a five-speed transmission and a turbocharged Corvette engine. "You'd need a full time mechanic to just keep the three carburetors tuned on the original Jag' engines, so we replaced it with a Vette’s." He opened the door revealing white leather upholstery and an elegant burl wood dashboard. I saw a big white bow tied about the steering wheel with an envelope pinned to the satin.

‘To My Darling Wife, Mrs. Jacqui Mark, Love, Kurt.’ I read the note then slipped into the driver's seat.

"My husband gave me a wedding present," I bubbled to the deliveryman, forgetting that I was angry with him. "Is there anything special I need to know?"

Patiently, the man explained everything and I played along as if I had never driven a car before. Frankly, I was so overwhelmed that I did feel slightly stupid.

After they left, I revved the engine in the driveway for a few moments. John’s favorite BMW certainly didn't have the sexy rumble of this car did. I left it parked in front of the house and ran in to get Kat.

"Someone give you a wedding present, Jacqui?" By her big smile, I could tell that Kat knew all about it.

"Yes," I cried out, absolutely delighted with the car. "Yes, my wonderful husband. Come on, were going for a ride. You had better wear a scarf 'cause I'm leaving the top down and I'm not driving slowly!" We were both breathless by the time we got back. I was exhilarated, but I suspect Kat was more likely scared to death. That car not only turned heads because of its beauty, but it could easily give you whiplash with its acceleration.

*****

I was sorry to see Karl and Kat off on Sunday morning. Kat and I'd grown very close during her short visit. They were off to a holiday in Aspen for the next couple of weeks then flying back to Switzerland before Christmas.

Because Kurt didn't have enough time to rearrange his schedule for a honeymoon, we postponed it until spring. At the time, I really didn’t mind; I guess because I'd never taken what most people think of as a vacation since I’d left home for college, I didn't know what I was missing. Although I eventually did learn about the delight of traveling for pleasure with Kurt, I was eager to settle down and make a home life with him.

Keeping the house in order, shopping and doing my hobbies, especially my embroidery, filled my days, and having Kurt with me, every night was all I needed to be content. Preparing our home for Christmas kept me from even thinking I could be bored.

One evening, the phone rang and Kurt took the call. I was curious when he closed the door to exclude me from the conversation, but he wasn’t on long.

"Jacqui, Henry has just called to inform me that Anna’s mother has died." I didn't have a strong reaction to the news because we knew she was very ill. However, I was unprepared for what followed.

"Henry and Anna will not be returning. Her father is not well and Anna’s mother had taken care of him. Anna feels she needs to stay to care for him. They will retire and remain in Florida, hopefully to enjoy the fruits of the hard work they put in all of their lives."

I’d only know Anna a very short time, but would still miss her; I’d miss my Uncle Hank much more.

*****

"Kurt, how do I look?" I stood, nervously examining my refection in a full-length mirror. I was wearing a black kidskin cheongsam trimmed with silver. It was a week until Christmas. "Beautiful, liebling," he complimented.

"You don’t think I’m overdoing it with the heels and showing so much leg?" I ran my hands over the fitted dress that displayed my now eighteen-inch waist. I'd decided that I could endure it for the effect we wanted to achieve. "And this cut out?" I said as I tried to tug the edges of the inverted heart-shaped cutout below the dress' high, snug collar together. It was carefully designed to uncover a shockingly large expanse of my large breasts.

"No. You are perfect. You must display what Carla did to you and project an air of satisfaction and confidence. Remember, Jacqui, you are going to flaunt yourself in her face," Kurt reminded me of the plan we’d established to confront my former wife and hopefully, totally blow her mind.

"But I don’t feel confident," I whimpered. "I feel like an Asian Barbie Doll."

He laughed at my joke then came over to stand behind me and wrap his arms around my waist. I melted back into him as he spoke soothingly into my ear. "Liebling, at Carla’s parties you wore a uniform that displayed far more of you, and still you conducted yourself with elegance and grace. Think of this meeting as just another party. Besides…"

"Some party." I laughed nervously, interrupting him.

"Besides what, Kurt?"

"I think I like mein Frau to be a Chinese Barbie Doll." I had come to accept my look even if Carla had mostly created it. I had even enhanced it myself by increasingly tightening the lacing of my corset. Both Kurt and I loved the way I looked and Kurt was my focus. If it made him happy, the discomfort of my corset fetish was worth the results. Besides, this would only be for a few hours.

An hour later, still as nervous as a cat, I stepped from the car and walked beside Kurt to the meeting with Carla and her lawyers.

Paul Cardacci and Adrian Stele met us in the lobby.

"Marvelous, Jacqui, absolutely marvelous," Paul complimented as Adrian took my cape. "Now do you remember what you are to do?"

"Yes." I quickly ran through the script, which we’d rehearsed several times in his office.

I drew what passed for a deep breath in a corset like that. "I guess I’m ready."

"May I?" Adrian asked, before he tilted the brim of my large black cartwheel hat so it obscured my left eye. "There," he smiled, "much more mysterious."

Paul and Adrian went in first. We waited a minute then Kurt opened the door. I couldn’t look at the faces on the other side of the table, but felt their eyes boring holes into me. As we planned, Kurt went to sit down.

I slowly turned and looked over my shoulder to check my seams. Since I’d not straightened the black nylons since exiting the car, they were crooked, as expected. I made a show of crouching then running my kid gloved hands up my left leg then slowly repeated the motions on my right one, but going further to re-garter it in back, exposing one cheek as I did. Still, without looking about, I walked to the open seat between Paul and Kurt. He stood to tend the chair.

"Splendid," my husband whispered.

Seated, I repeated the glove show I’d performed for Kurt on our first date, exposing the impossibly long red nails I’d gotten at the salon the day before.

"Still the slut, Jacqui," Carla tried to mock me with slow applause. "Marvelous performance," she ridiculed.

"Isn't she just marvelous, Melissa?" Carla said turning to her sister. "Did you teach her that?"

"Thank you," I said without emotion. My sarcastic smile carried my real feelings. I'd said all I needed to.

"Shall we begin?" Paul picked up his papers.

"I am Paul Cardacci, my associate Mr. Adrian Stele," Paul introduced. "I believe you know Mr. Kurt Mark and Jacqui?"

"On behalf of Mrs. Jacqui Lian Mark we demand…"

"What?" she screamed. "She can’t be married, that little … shit is a man!" Paul answered that claim by passing a copy of my Hong Kong birth certificate across the table to Leonard Jacobi, her senior attorney. A Xerox of our marriage certificate followed.

I almost giggled outloud at Carla; she was so upset, she looked absolutely ridiculous.

"On behalf of Mrs. Mark, we have demanded the sum of twenty-five million dollars, half ownership of JohnCarla Limited and the transfer of all assets held in the name of Mr. John Ingram."

"Shove it up your ass!" It was totally unlike Carla. In all the years I’d known her, she had never sworn like that in front of strangers. Something had gone wrong. I’d been assured that we were there to settle this matter and that everything had already been hashed out with her and the lawyers. This was not good.

"Leonard," she faced her attorney, "call Immigration at once and inform them that this illegal alien is in your office so they can arrest her."

"I would strongly advise you not to jeopardize your own liberty, Ms. Martin," Adrian interjecte. "I remind you, that if the truth comes out, it will be you who will be behind bars."

"Fuck off!" Carla shouted. "You heard me, Leonard! Do it!" Carla demanded.

"Mr. Jacobi, do we again need to show you my client’s evidence, or would you prefer to find yourself defending criminal cases in both the New Jersey State Superior and Federal Court? You know how bad the parking is in downtown Newark." Paul smiled gleefully, referring to the area surrounding the Federal courthouse there.

Paul went on, "Ms. Martin has constructed a very elaborate web of illegal misdoings. One, so convoluted that she apparently became careless because she did things that contradicted each other and left a clear trail of criminal activity, mostly felonies."

Carla was livid. I blew her a kiss just to twist the knife.

She flew across the table in a futile attempt to wipe the smile off my face. Adrian caught her arm and pushed her back.

"Shall I add attempted assault to the charges, Mrs. Mark?" Paul causally asked me. This was all part of our plan of attack, which had begun with my appearance that morning. We wanted to rattle Carla’s cage so badly that she couldn’t think straight, much like my own mental condition when I awoke in the clinic after surgery.

Melissa, who had remained silent, took her sister from the room followed by one of the other attorneys.

"Leonard, I thought that your client had agreed to settle this as we’d discussed over the phone? You were both fully aware of the evidence." Paul seemed as bewildered as I was by then.

"Ms. Martin informed me otherwise, only when she arrived here this morning. Just to refresh my mind, let’s hear what you have again?" he requested.

Like a machine gun, Paul rattled off the details of our evidence and then explained the mess Carla had created for herself. Jacobi listened without comment.

"We are willing to settle this, Leonard. If we cannot reach agreement, we will notify the concerned agencies and Mrs. Mark," Paul nodded in my direction, "will file her own criminal charges against your client. Ms. Martin will find herself in jail for a rather long time if she forces us to pursue this."

"Yes, that's what I recall," Leonard Jacobi coolly said. "Let me go remind my client of both the stakes and the evidence." He excused himself and left the room. As he opened the door, we heard Carla screaming at Melissa.

"Did you see her Melissa? The fucking little faggot is a fuckin’ gold dig…" The closing door blocked further conversation, despite its volume.

"Are you alright, Jacqui?" Kurt asked.

"I’m fine. I just wish this were over, that's all."

"It will be, Jacqui," Paul assured. "Leonard Jacobi is a good lawyer. I’ve worked with him in the past and I can assure you that he completely understands our position and what his client has gotten herself into.

When the meeting resumed, nearly two hours later, it appeared that Carla was sedated, for Melissa had to help her to the chair. I causally opened my purse, raised the two veils covering my face and started to freshen my lipstick.

I saw Carla stiffen, but she said nothing.

"Paul, my client has considered the matter and is willing to negotiate," Mr. Jacobi began with measured tones.

"What is your wager, Mr. Jacobi?" My use of Carla’s pet phrase caused her to glare at me, but still, she said nothing.

"Jacqui?" I was surprised to hear Melissa softly call my name. I met her eyes. "I want you to know that I only played a minor role in this. Carla lied to me, just as she deceived you. I’m so sorry." Melissa’s eyes were moist with incipient tears.

I looked at Melissa. Was this just a ploy or was she being genuine? It only took me a moment to realize it didn't matter. Melissa’s had behaved as despicably as her sister had set me up. What she did was inexcusable. I just ignored her hollow apology.

"What will it take? What will you settle for?" she asked as if begging me. Paul had instructed me not to answer that question, although I wanted to. Instead, I turned to him.

"You know our terms. The next move is yours," he replied. "In fact," he went on before anyone else could speak, "I thought your sister had agreed to the terms." Melissa glanced at Carla, but she didn’t respond. "That's the only reason we're here today."

Mr. Jacobi stood. "I apologize for taking your time, Paul. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can." They shook hands. I felt a grip on my arm. Adrian escorted me out of the building.

"What’s going on?" I asked him as he walked me to Kurt’s Mercedes.

"I honestly don’t know, Jacqui. Paul signaled to me to take you out of there. I don’t know any more than you do right now and I'm just as bewildered as you are." Fifteen minutes later, Kurt joined us.

"Thank you, Adrian. I’ll take my wife home. You are wanted back inside." Kurt took my hand.

"Kurt, what’s going on? That wasn’t what we expected," I moaned as he helped me into the car.

"No, liebling, it is not as planned, but better." He drove from the lot. "Your presence had the desired effect and your performance was perfect.

"Paul and Leonard Jacobi will negotiate an equitable settlement, but that will not be today. I ask you to trust that the matter is in good hands."

"If you say they are. Where are we going?"

"I'd like you to meet a client of mine."

"Like this?" I motioned to my outfit. He laughed.

"Yes, exactly like that. You look beautiful."

We stopped for lunch at an Italian restaurant along the route and needless to say, I was the focus of everyone's attention. I felt like a celebrity, which was both fun and scary. When we were done, we proceeded to a modern office campus in a nearby suburb. While we ate, Kurt had told me all about John Park, who I was to meet that afternoon.

"He will offer you a job, Liebling," Kurt said. Even if you think you might not want to take it, don't say no right away. Just say you'll think about it. Of course, if you want to take him up on his offer, please feel free to do so."

"Aren't you going to tell me anymore? I hate mysteries, especially when I'm part of them." I really didn't like what was going on, but Kurt obviously thought it would be loads of fun and I couldn't resist him.

The understated sign said, 'Kahn Publications Limited'. Below the English were Chinese characters. The sign was so modest I thought we'd be entering a tiny office suite. Instead, it was a large, rather ornate lobby, decorated with many pieces of Asian art. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that the receptionist wore a cheongsam or that she knew Kurt, but I was.

"Hello, Mr. Mark. It’s good to see you." Although she was obviously Korean, but she spoke without any hint of an accent, unless you counted the slight echo of Valley Girl. I know it was stupid of me, but I was always surprised when anyone who looked foreign spoke English like an American. Valley girl and southern accents were particularly amazing. Now, I realized, people would be looking at me and thinking the same thing.

"Good afternoon, Ellen. I'd like you to meet my wife, Jacqui."

"Hello, Mrs. Mark," the young woman stood and greeted me with a warm smile, reaching out her hand to shake mine.

"Mr. Park and the others will meet with you in the first floor conference room. This way please, Mrs. Mark," she glided from behind her desk and led the way to a richly decorated conference room. It was only once we'd stepped inside that Kurt let me know he was leaving.

"Jacqui, this is entirely for you. Do whatever you want. I don't want to be here to influence your decision. I'll wait for you until you've finished." Before I could object, he'd kissed me and left.

I turned into the room; feeling rather confused, Ellen asked, "Coffee, tea or something else, Mrs. Mark?"

"Tea, please."

Still clueless, I asked, "Why am I here?" Ellen looked as bewildered as I felt.

"Mr. Park wishes to meet you. Please sit there and relax while I make tea." Ellen was still busy when a distinguished looking Korean man entered the room. Several women, all quite lovely in different ways, followed him. They were obviously from several different Asian cultures.

"Mrs. Mark, hello," he greeted me with a bow. "I am John Park. I own Kahn Publications. He introduced the six others who all sat once they had acknowledged his introduction.

Ellen set the tea service on the table then fixed me a cup to my liking. After she put it in front of me, she nodded at my hat and said, "May I?" I nodded and she lifted my veils back onto the broad brim. Other girls had come in to serve the rest of the group.

"Mr. Park," I began, immediately regretting my forwardness.

"Please," he interrupted, "Call me John. And may I call you Jacqui?" I nodded.

"Well then," he went on, "I imagine you want to know why you are here."

"Yes," I said with much relief. "That's exactly what I want to know."

He smiled at me indulgently, as a grandfather might. "Kahn is a large publishing house for a group of English language magazines targeting the Asian population of North America. Our periodicals cover many interests, but central to our identity is that our employees, our models and everyone shown in our advertisements are all Asian." He paused and looked about at the assembled group.

"My friend, Mr. Kurt Mark, has told me that his lovely new Chinese wife pocesses many special gifts that might be of interest to our subscribers."

"Oh?" I replied, slightly shocked. "I do?"

As he selected a green folder from the colorful stack beside him, I saw the others do the same. He opened it and I saw picture of embroidery, my embroidery.

"Our magazine, Silken Images, caters to women who enjoy needle crafts." Ellen placed a glossy beside me. "Take a moment to look through that, please?" he asked.

Though the format was entirely different, as I turned the pages, the quality of the periodical and articles reminded me of Taunton Press’ Threads. Towards the back was a completely blank page. I raised my eyes in question to Mr. Park.

He reached across the teak table to place a mock-up over the blank page.

‘Coming in our next issue: Pictures of Silk by Jacqui Lian Chang.’

Several small pictures of my work, surrounded a large photo Kurt had taken of me one day when I modeled my dragon dress for him. I looked up at Mr. Park, my eyes thrown wide open in surprise. I was so startled by what was happening I thought I could feel my lashes hit my eyebrows.

"Mr. Mark showed us your work. It's exquisite and we would like to publish it.

"Please do not say anything quite yet," he continued, "because what we really want is to have you write an article about your embroidery. If it goes well, we'd like to consider a regular column, perhaps quarterly." He looked at me expectantly, with a big, and, I thought, very genuine, smile. I'd certainly never considered anything like this, but the thought did please me. I was an engineer, I would study my hobby in detail!

"Mr. Park," I said without hesitating, "I must admit to being totally surprised about this, but I find the whole idea very enticing. You must give me time to consult with my husband." I didn't care if Kurt had bought me a career as a columnist. I could do this; I wanted to.

"That's fine Jacqui, but I think I already know what he will say." Park winked at me.

I had to giggle. "Yes," I agreed, "I suspect you do know. But I want to hear discuss it with him anyway."

"Of course," he concluded. "And if I might, I'd like to ask you one more indulgence." He looked up at me expectantly, so I nodded. 'What,' I wondered, 'could follow that?'

He opened a red folder. Again, the others did the same. Inside were pictures of me, including some taken at my wedding.

"And now, he said, his smile even bigger than before, "shall we talk about your modeling career?"

"Huh?" I said, completely surprised, in a million years I would never have anticipated that.

"We are delighted to have you write a column for us, but we'd really like modeling to be your primary job. You are a stunning woman. You are well proportioned, with amazing legs. You are young, but not immature looking and your face, although clearly Chinese, has echoes of European ancestry that are quite fascinating. You are of mixed ancestry aren't you?"

I was blushing so hard, I couldn't hear any more. I had never had anyone say anything like that to me. Of course, Kurt was always telling me how lovely I was, and I did get lots of looks on the street, but this was just too much. I was literally speechless and sat there staring at John Park with my mouth open.

"Of course," he went on, filling in the conversational gap for me, "modeling is not easy work, despite its glamorous reputation. I hope you will find that this offer is sufficient to compensate you for the hardships." He wrote a figure on a piece of paper and slid it across the table. That didn't help me recover from my speechlessness at all. If anything, I was even more stunned. I had no idea they paid models so much.

Forty-five minutes later, I was still feeling quite addled from all the compliments I was getting when Mr. Park introduced me to a woman who had recently entered the room. The others stood and wished me, "Good-bye."

Not only was I to have a column on embroidery, but I was to model for Kahn Publications as well. Although I was married to a wealthy man and was soon to have considerable assets of my own, the monetary offer staggered me. It didn't matter that Mr. Park had warned me I would be working hard and would really earn it. I was going to be a model!

"Please, go with Li to discuss the details, Jacqui." He too bid me a good day and I left. Li walked me along the corridor to a large corner office, watched over by a lovely young woman, whose name I learned was Saya.

"I’m the editor-in-chief of Silken Images, Jacqui," Li began, after offering me a comfortable seat. She had to be older, but she looked like she was only about twenty-five and was quite attractive.

"I was born in Sebu City near Mactan Island, The Philippines though my parents are Chinese." I note on your resume that you are also Chinese." Her inflection sounded like it was a question.

"Yes, I came here last March." 'Careful Jacqui, you are on thin ice,' I warned myself. Adrian had prepared a file on the other Jacqui Chang, which I’d memorized, but I also had another story of my own. When she began to speak to me in Cantonese, I knew I would need it. I held up my hand to stop her.

"Ever since I was an infant, my father, who was a Canadian silk merchant, traveled all over the world, but I mostly grew up in Canada and was educated there. My mother was Chinese and both my parents spoke Cantonese fluently, but my mother insisted I speak only English though I can speak French too, and a little German. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I am one of those unfortunate first generation immigrants who can't even speak her native language. My parents only spoke it when they didn't want me to know what they were saying.

"I see," Li smiled broadly. "I apologize. Seldom do I get to speak my language. You’ve seen that we are a mixed nationality here at Kahn Publications. Unlike in China, we are in the minority as there are only two others of Chinese ancestry. Most are Japanese or, like Mr. Park, Korean."

"I hate to do this to you, but your first deadline is in three weeks, I want you to introduce yourself, give a short biography then describe some of your creations, Jacqui. It will be a feature article, so plan about two thousand words, for me to look at.

"You are scheduled to be photographed tomorrow starting at eight, so be here by seven o’clock." Li stopped to stare at me intently.

"Is that your normal makeup style?" she asked. "I like it. Perhaps we’ll change it in the future, but keep it for now."

"Your hair though, has to change, but, before we do that, I want James to see if he wants it?"

"Excuse me, Li. ‘If he wants it’, I don’t understand?" I was lost.

"James is the art director for a few magazines, one is Basin Beat, it’s a teen magazine and often he wants far out stuff for the covers and features. His big kick is China Dolls with blonde hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of us with hair quite the color of yours though."

"Anyway, after he has his fun, you are going back to basic black.

"By the way, get used to being called ‘Doll’ or ‘China Doll’ here." Mr. Park calls all of the models and other pretty girls that. He's so charming, no one complains. I don't mind it, coming from him. "Only problem is the other guys who work here do too and they're not all so sweet. We have Chinese, Filipino, Japanese and Thai models right now, and they're all lumped together as China Dolls."

"Bring a few pretty things to wear as I doubt wardrobe has anything that might fit you," Li was smiling as she stared at my torso. "Bring that cheongsam in the picture, too. I wish I had one like it. It's stunning. Do you always dress so sexy?"

I blushed and vehemently shook my head no. "I dressed like this today for a special reason."

"Of course," Li nodded her head. "To impress Mr. Park."

Since I had no idea I'd even be meeting Mr. Park, or anyone else for that matter, that couldn't have been the reason. Then it came to me; Kurt knew. It wasn't an accident that we came here with me dressed to kill. I decided that Li would be better off believing her misimpression, so I nodded 'yes' to her shyly.

"As long as you model here, we have you exclusively. No other modeling work, period."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I can’t agree to that."

Li glared at me; obviously upset. "Why not? Certainly we will pay you well enough," she demanded.

"Oh, Li," I replied, "please don't misunderstand me. The monetary offer is more than enough. It's just that I’ve already committed to doing a catalog and Web pictures for a boutique. They make my clothes in return. As you noted, my size is not a common one. I’ve also done some modeling recently and some of those pictures may already have been sold. In fact you have some of them."

"You worked as a maid, right?"

'How did she know that?' I wondered. I've been the CEO of a highly successful computer consulting firm and I'm now known as a former maid? Life really is weird. "Yes, I did."

"I see. I don’t imagine it paid well. So, you bartered your beauty for your wardrobe? Beats selling sex I guess, and I like that." I just blinked at her, deciding it was better not to get into it.

"We've already made a deal with Ashley. She brought your wedding pictures to us not long after your husband had arranged for Mr. Park to meet you. We will let her do a wedding spread of you next spring." She shuffled some papers then looked back up. "We’ll talk about this again after I consult legal. What’s the name and address of the boutique?"

At that point, I called Kurt, or rather, Saya did, and Li and I chatted about Kahn Publications until he arrived.

"How did it go, Liebling?" Kurt asked, as we walked to the car.

"You know very well, Kurt. You bought me a job." I wasn’t angry about it and smiled as I spoke.

"No, Jacqui, that is not true. I asked John to give you an interview, nothing more. I thought, perhaps, he could use someone with real computer skills. Now you will not be so bored."

We had reached the car and were standing beside it. I stared at him in disbelief for a moment before I burst out laughing. "Is that what I’m supposed to be, a computer jockey for someone else's business? Is that all you think I can do, Kurt?"

"I am sure that you can do anything you wish," he replied, obviously taken aback by my attack, "But John Park is one of the most honorable men I know and he's desperately in need of computer help." I didn't know whether he was pulling my leg or telling the truth.

"Don’t lie to me," I chided him. "You bought me a job as a columnist. Just admit it."

"No. I have told you." He was so defensive now, that I was ready to believe him. "I asked only that they consider you, if a position arose. It came up when he spotted the picture of you in your dragon dress on my desk. Believe me, Jacqui that is the truth."

"Why did you give them pictures of my embroidery and of me?"

"He asked if I knew where you got the dress. I told him you'd made it. When he asked if you made all your clothes, I said, 'no, but you do a lot of embroidery'. He begged to see some examples and said he just had to meet such a creative and attractive woman. I didn't say anything to you because I didn't know what he intended."

I thought about it for a few moments and then laughed again. "You don't know what he asked me to do?" I said, arching an eyebrow at him. He shook his head no, looking a little intimidated by my apparent outrage.

"They want me to write a column on embroidery and try modeling," I said, now smiling broadly. "You sure you didn't set this up, Kurt?"

"No honestly, I had nothing to do with it."

I didn't care anymore. I wanted to write and to model and I didn't really care if Kurt had bought me those jobs or not.

"I have to be there by seven tomorrow morning," I told him. "Let's go home so I can get to bed early tonight. I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a very long day."

I think that Jamie, the art director, nearly swooned, if anyone actually does that in reality, when I walked into the studio. He stared at me as though in shock and his mouth started working without any words coming out then he closed his eyes and sat down hard.

He quickly recovered though and put me to work. Work it was too, nothing like the comfortable posing Ashley had me perform on my wedding day. I was posed, reposed and then reposed again. They asked me to change my expression, move slightly and then I was reposed again. I changed outfits innumerable times and, each time, my makeup was redone then it was back under the lights for more posing. I was ready for a break long before Jamie called it quits at noon.

You know what? I loved modeling. I couldn't believe that shy little me, the Jacqui who was happiest being overlooked, could be so 'out there'. Under Jamie's careful tutelage, I came alive in front of the camera. I felt like a caterpillar coming out of her cocoon and discovering she's a butterfly. I just loved it.

More than that, I learned all about how to use my face and body for various effects and my movements became increasingly graceful and feminine. If I ever wanted to flaunt my looks on the street, I could leave everyman who saw me devastated.

Best of all, I didn't have to do it to earn a living, so I could pick my times and projects. My face soon became widely recognized and I guess I turned into that trophy wife so many successful middle-aged men wished they could get.

That doesn't mean I ignored my responsibilities to our home, far from it. I was a meticulous homemaker and was ready with dinner every time Kurt came through the door after work. I guess I was kind of a parody of a fifties housewife, but I didn't care. The more time I spent with Kurt, the more I fell in love with him and the more I wanted to please him.

*****

"Kurt, no! I don’t want to wear it again!" I shouted in protest, as he struggled to fasten the belt in place. I tried to put as much anguish into my voice as I could.

"But I am going to insist," Kurt said softly. The main lock clicked in place.

"Now do what you must with your lips before I place the outer shield, liebling." While I worked with my nether lips, Kurt did the best he could to distract me. His fingers began to cause waves of renewed pleasure to course through my body as he fondled my sensitive breasts and nuzzled my now over the shoulder-length black hair aside to kiss my neck.

I had hated Carla when she had locked this damned contraption on me to deny me any sexual pleasure, but now I was absolutely delighted that my husband was locking me up, although I had to behave as if I still hated it. Since Kurt had awakened the potential pleasures available to me through my new genitals, I had become rather obsessed with sex.

One evening, as I was crawling all over him, trying to convince him to come to bed with me, he threatened to lock me up as Carla had, if I didn't behave myself. I got an incredible rush from the whole idea and I guess Kurt could see it on my face.

He immediately said, "You'd like that, wouldn't you; to be locked in a chastity belt that only I could open?" I couldn't say anything. My nipples had hardened and my breathing was becoming rapid and shallow. I must have been blushing as well because my face suddenly felt very hot.

Kurt broke out into a huge grin. We began to explore this idea. When I was locked away, I longed for release, but had no control over when that would happen. I did not want to have any say in the matter, but loved that Kurt had the choice as to when it might be.

It became a game between us. He would lock me up, usually for no more than for a few days at a time, and for me to have sex, I had to please him in any way that I could. I made him elegant meals, assured that his clothes were ready and helped him dress and was as sweet and loving as I could be. When Kurt was home, he had my undivided attention and this pleased him beyond words.

"Kurt, will you open my belt tonight, pretty please?" I cooed as I pressed close and nibbled his ear.

"I think that I would like a massage first, lil’ Jacqui." I slapped his butt as hard as I could. "That is a good place to start, liebling," he chuckled.

I pushed him on his stomach then jumped up to straddle him, using his thigh to press the crotch plate of my belt hard, against my pussy then attacked his muscled back with vigor. Before too long, he was on his back, moaning softly as I massaged his organ with my lips and tongue. I was fully engaged and enjoying myself when I was suddenly tossed backwards on the bed and forcibly spread.

I found that being on my back with my legs apart to be the most incredible sensation. Could there be anything more emblematic of being a woman than waiting on your back for your lover? Before I could resist, as if I ever would, the steel armor plate was laid open and his tongue was attacking me. It took awhile, but even after I had exploded in my orgasm, the attack did not cease, it intensified and his hands left my thighs to lovingly assault my breasts.

"Ah, ah! Oh my God!" I screamed with pleasure as an earthquake wracked my body.

Sometime later, I was half awakened when I felt something being done to my sensitive flesh. I tried to push whatever away and jumped awake when my nails touched steel again.

"Lay still, liebling." Kurt moved my hand away. "I must learn how to fit your belt." He was massaging my lips through the slots. "This is mine and I want to assure it is kept safe and away from your naughty fingers." I slapped him playfully.

"Kurt, darling?"

"Ja?"

"Kurt, perhaps your lips might be more effective than your clumsy fingers at working my lips where they should be?" He needed no more encouragement to set them working on the task at hand. My fires were rekindled, but, with my clit shielded, it was a fire that wasn't going to light. A few minutes later, the solid click of the lock snuffed it out altogether.

"You’re a beast!" I drew him up to lay on top of me then covered us with the sheet. With my hands locked about him and we kissed.

"Ich leibst du." He repeated what I said and we fell asleep together.

EPILOGUE

Kurt and I have been married for five years. We now live in a smaller mansion, which overlooks a picture postcard valley in the mountains of Northwestern New Jersey. He no longer goes to the office every day, but only travels in for the monthly board meetings and other special events. Mostly, he can be found taking walks in the forests surrounding our property or tending the formal gardens, he’s created closer to the house.

I’m still modeling. I think that I’m addicted to it, but limit my bookings to less than ten days a month. I’m so much in demand, that I can command a supermodel’s rate. Married to Kurt and with my settlement from Carla, I don’t need the money, but I do enjoy the work. Well, I can't really call it that. In truth, I'm rather infatuated with showing off my body and love being the center of attention.

Let me tell you a little about Giselle. She is my personal maid and a true delight to have about. During my first week at Kahn Publications, I was working on a spread with Natia, a very pretty, Thai girl. We’d met the first day of work and had become friends on the set.

"Jacqui, I’d like you to meet someone." Natia said after I’d expressed my desire to hire a maid. "My … sister is living with me and is looking for just that type of a position."

Giselle turned out to be a girl, almost just like me. She's a Thai ladyboy. She’s been with me since. I’ve never told Kurt her background. It is our little secret.

This autumn, we are all going to Geneva again. I’m very much looking forward to working with my sister-in-law. Things couldn’t be better. Yes, that’s right. I did say working with Kat. It was a ball the first time … but that’s another story.

C'est finis - or - Das Ende