Archive-name: Changes/gretchen.06
Archive-author: Amelia Allbyte
Archive-title: On Becoming Gretchen - 6


Chapter Six

The next day started exactly as the previous one. After being
released and doing my morning necessities, I went into the
kitchen and prepared Miss Irene's breakfast. This time I didn't
make the mistake of thinking I was worthy of eating with her.

After serving her and again eating her leftovers, I went to her
room in response to her summons. She was wearing only a peignoir,
not the elaborate costume she had worn the previous morning. "You
will be my personal maid as well as do the housework, cook, and
serve meals. You may as well start learning now. You can begin by
helping me with my bath. Draw the water, warm, but not too hot.
Remember to add the bath crystals on the counter."

I did as she ordered, constantly testing the water, all the while
hoping that she would like the temperature I selected.

When the water was ready, I went in to inform her. She slipped
off the robe and, well, she undulated into the bath.

Yesterday, she was erotic while wearing the sexy costume. Today,
unclad, she was beautiful. Her body was perfect. The pink nipples
and aureoles capped her perfect breasts that rose to their full
perfection. The dark pubic patch had been shaved to form a
perfect heart. Awe-struck, I gazed at her as she passed me and
went into the tub.

She dipped her toe in the water, testing it. "It's a bit warm,
but acceptable this first time. However, next time have it a few
degrees cooler."

"Yes, Miss Irene."

She entered the tub and I helped her bathe. I washed her back,
handed her the washcloth or soap or whatever she wanted. When she
was through, I patted her dry with a large fluffy bath towel.

We the returned to the bedroom. She turned, facing me. "Get down
on your knees," she ordered. I complied.

She approached me until there were only a few inches between my
face and her furry patch. "You will now service me, and use your
tongue," she commanded, pulling my head up into her crotch.

I pushed my nose into her, and then hesitantly at first, slipped
my tongue between the thick wet lips of her labia and began
working it around. I found the hot musky taste of her vaginal
fluids quite tantalizing.

My exploring tongue moved about within her vagina. I felt her
quiver as erotic sensations were being aroused within her body.
Suddenly, I wanted to make her come. I wanted to orally satisfy
her so that she would reach orgasm. I began driving my tongue
deeper while at the same time thrashing it about within her,
trying to stimulate her to greater arousal.

Apparently I met with some success as her gyrations on my mouth
became more frantic and the fleshy lips of her pink tunnel became
coated with a thick, gooey lubricant, which I collected on my
tongue.

I don't know how long I, or rather we, kept it up. She kept
getting more and more excited and held my face so far up against
her snatch that I could hardly breathe. At that moment, I didn't
care. I only wanted for her to climax into my subservient mouth.

She finally gave a tremendous tremor and sighed audibly, then
relaxed, satiated.

Releasing my head, she ordered me to my feet. Pulling down my
lace panties, she smiled triumphantly.

"You're learning how to obey." I looked down in amazement. All
during the whole erotic act, I had no physical arousal. My cock
was still soft and limp although I was on an erotic high.

"As a reward for your obedience, you have my permission to have
an erection. In fact, I order you to have one."

Apparently of its own volition, my cock started to obey. I could
feel the blood pulsing within it. I watched it slowly engorge
until within a few seconds it stood straight and stiff, pressing
the front of my panties out obscenely.

I can't explain it. Ordinarily I considered my cock to have a
mind of its own. It would get erect in crowds, embarrassing me
with its distinct bulge. At other times I'd be embarrassed for no
good reason because it wouldn't come up. Now, here, in one day,
this strange woman was making it do as she wished.

"You are a bit repressed, aren't you?"

"Yes, Miss Irene. Horny would be a better word. It's been quite a
while."

She handed me a pair of her panties. "You have my permission to
have some relief. Masturbate yourself into those panties."

"Here? Now? Right in front of you?"

"Certainly. You must not have any ejaculation or erection without
my permission. On the other hand, if I should order it, you WILL
comply. Also, you will only have sexual arousal by my orders,
unless, of course, I lend to other mistresses. Then you will obey
them as you would me."

I was red-faced and embarrassed. I had never been specifically
ordered to beat my meat, nor had I ever done it in the presence
of a lovely woman. Miss Irene stood there with a slight smile on
her lips, enjoying her superiority and my embarrassment.

"Well, are going to deliberately disobey me or are you going to
begin?"

I reached down and grabbed my cock. It felt hot in my hand. I
began to stroke it. She stared intently at my activity. I
gradually began manipulating it at a faster pace. It responded,
beginning to throb somewhat, a bit of ejaculate lubricating it. I
gradually increased the rapidity of my stroking and could feel my
excitement rising.

I was soon rapt with the sensations rising within me. I knew Miss
Irene was still watching me, but I was no longer embarrassed. I
did note, without being fully aware of it, that she was staring
intently at my masturbation, her breath coming in short gasps in
unison with my own.

Suddenly, I knew it was time and placed the panties over the tip
of my swollen cock. I closed my eyes and exploded!

As I was ejaculating, I felt a cool hand over my own. I opened my
eyes and looked down. Miss Irene's hand was over mine, her body
was bucking, and I'd swear that she had an orgasm in conjunction
with mine.

She recovered her composure rather quickly, and as I was coming
back to my senses she said, "Yesterday, you cleaned the house.
Today is washing and ironing day. You will take your bath and
apply your own makeup. Instead of a uniform, you will find a
skirt and blouse lying on your bed. I want you to get used to
wearing various sorts of female clothing."

"When you are finished dressing and applying your makeup and feel
that you are presentable, report to me for inspection. After you
pass, I'll show you where the laundry is and what you have to
do."

Relaxed, and finally at ease with myself, I left to do as she
ordered.

I took my bath as directed, liberally dumping in the bath
crystals and luxuriating in the sweet-smelling warm water.
Completing the bath, I went into my room and discovered a
complete wardrobe laid out on my bed.

I put on the white nylon lace panties that were liberally
embroidered with pink butterflies. The matching bra, I discovered
with some satisfaction, was front-hooked, which for me was much
easier to put on. The skirt portion of the slip was of a sleek
white nylon. The bodice was form-fitting and all lace; even the
shoulder straps were lace. The same pale pink butterflies that
adorned my panties and bra were also on the slip.

The blouse was pullover type with a modified 'V' neck full of
lace ruffles. The sleeves were short and puffed. The cuffs were
white satin with lace ruffles similar to those around the collar.
The material of the blouse was very sheer, almost transparent,
and the lace of the slip could easily be seen through it.

The skirt was pale pink, made from a soft wool fabric. It was
fully pleated and had its own self belt.

The panty hose were a very light shade of beige and were very
sheer, almost invisible when worn, except for the sheen that
accented the pleasing appearance of my shaved legs. The
three-inch heeled shoes were open-toed with spaghetti straps that
buckled around the ankle.

I also discovered a fine gold necklace with a tiny pendant, a
matching bracelet, and a pair of pierced earrings with pendants
that matched the one on the necklace.

Prior to putting on my skirt and blouse, I applied my makeup. I
was still far from an expert but at least by now I had a good
idea as to how to apply the various cremes and colors. I selected
a lipstick that would match my red nails, with a slight pink
cast. I figured that would match the pale pink skirt. I also
selected a very light shade of pink for my eye shadow, hoping it
would kind of go with the outfit. Although I was learning to
apply makeup, I still had a long way to go in learning to match
colors and shades.

Completing my makeup, I carefully put on the rest of my feminine
clothing, then the jewelry, and finally set the wig on my head
and brushed it out.

Looking myself over, satisfied with what I saw, I presented
myself to Miss Irene.

She took one look and exclaimed, "I thought I taught you how to
apply mascara. It should look natural, and each lash should be
separate, not glued together in clumps as you have done."

She reached into her own vanity, rustled through it for a few
moments, then returned. "Here is a mascara comb. Go back and fix
that mascara. When it looks right, let me see it again."

I did as she directed and was surprised at how effective the
little comb was. It smoothed and separated each lash, making them
appear longer and decidedly more attractive.

Again I presented myself to Miss Irene. This time she grudgingly
approved of my appearance. I felt quite proud of my
accomplishments, and strangely enough, I also enjoyed the feeling
of attractive femininity that I knew I portrayed.

Miss Irene wasted no time, and led me into the laundry room. "all
the lingerie that is here, you will wash by hand." She then
instructed me as to how to wash the rest of the items, and
cautioned me to be careful of the clothes I was wearing. There
were of a light color and delicate fabrics. I believe Miss Irene
deliberately selected them to make it difficult. Then she left me
to myself.

There wasn't a whole lot of the regular laundry. A few sheets,
some towels, and a load or so of wash-n-wear clothing, belonging,
I assumed, to Miss Irene. There were blouses, skirts, shorts,
jeans, and things of that sort. I eyed the jeans, some of them,
and even the blouses, a few of which looked like they would not
be too out of place if worn by a male.

It put the thought of escape in my mind, but until I could figure
a way out, such thoughts were useless. So I went back to the task
at hand.

There were no problems with washing the clothes. I put them in
the washer, then the dryer, and let them go. The lingerie was
another matter. There was a mountain of it. It was hard to
imagine that any one person could have so many underclothes, much
less get them all so that they all needed washing at the same
time. My mistress much change her undies four or five times a day
and go that way for a month to have that much to wash.

I started the washing machine and then began sorting and hand
washing the lingerie. Panties, hose, slips, gowns, bras,
everything. It seemed that there were zillions of each kind in
every imaginable style and color.

Originally, I had thought that this would be an easy day - after
all, how many clothes does one woman wear? I mentioned something
about it while I served lunch to Miss Irene.

"Oh, most of that lingerie belongs to friends. They asked me to
have it done when they discovered I was going to get a maid."

Now, how did they, or Miss Irene, know she was going to get a
maid, at least me specifically? If I hadn't, by chance, accepted
that ride, then been hauled off and dumped hereabouts, I'd never
have been anywhere near this place. Did they have someone else in
mind? If they did, then there should be two of us. Did she know
in advance somehow that I or someone else would come by? Or did
she have other plans, and I just happened by and caused a
last-minute change? The idle comment Miss Irene made brought all
sorts of questions to my mind. I even get up the nerve and
temerity to ask her how they knew she would obtain a maid.

She looked at me frostily and simply replied that it was none of
my business. I was merely her maid and I would be better off to
learn my duties rather than to worry about matters that didn't
concern me.

There was one hint she did give. She said that if it suited their
purpose, Mistress Circe would teach me all I needed to know in
order to become a better maid.

"Who is Mistress Circe?", I boldly inquired.

"Mistress Circe is the queen of the Sisters of Circe. She and a
few of her aides will be here for dinner tomorrow night. They
will judge your appearance and deportment to see if you are
worthy of continued development and training."

"Oh, if I don't pass, you turn me loose?"

"We have said enough about this. You had better realize that what
you learn, how you look and act will have a real bearing on
whether you live or die. Your impertinence will also be
considered in your judgment. I should add that your unprovoked
attack upon me and subsequent punishment will also be considered
in your final judgment. Your impertinent behavior that I am
observing now doesn't help you in the judgment."

I didn't need to be clubbed to get the hint. "Yes, Miss Irene," I
apologized, clumsily trying to curtsy. "Is there anything else
you need?"

She smiled at my attempted curtsy and said, "No, Gretchen, that's
all. You had better get back to work. However, it would be a good
idea for you to be more graceful when you curtsy to acknowledge
my orders."

Rather subdued, I returned to the laundry room. From the hints
that Miss Irene dropped, there was something more than me just
acting as a maid for one party. It appeared that my future had
but one real choice, slavery as a feminized maid. The options of
death or insanity were no choices. As far as I was concerned,
there was no other choice.

I finally finished the lingerie and began hanging the items on
lines that were strung across the room. While hanging them up, I
took the opportunity to study the windows. As I should have
expected, the windows were locked and had heavy grilles bolted to
them. Not to keep intruders out, but to make sure the subject of
feminization, me, stayed in.

While I was looking over the windows, with a very faint hope of
escape on my mind, Miss Irene walked in and saw me. "That's
right," she said. "Every window is securely barred. I don't want
my domestic help to 'accidentally' fall out and hurt themselves.
And you should also know that all of the doors are steel and the
locks are all electrically operated. Even if by some far-fetched
chance you managed to overcome me, there still wouldn't be any
way out. And the punishment for trying would be most severe."

Despondently, I knew that she spoke the truth. My fate was
sealed. Even if I could overwhelm my captor, I'd be trapped in
the house until Mistress Circe, whoever she was, came in and
found me.

"Oh, yes, another thing. The telephone is fixed so that all
outgoing calls are routed through the local Sisters of Circe
lines."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of escape, Miss Irene. I'd never try to
escape from you or to make a telephone call without your
permission," I lied, going back to my chores.

"I just know you wouldn't, Gretchen," she said with a knowing
smile.

I finally finished the wash. Miss Irene told me to leave the
dainties hanging. When Miss Irene's friends came, they would pick
their own right off the line.

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