Diciembre 2, 2009
Beautiful & tied
Two wonderful yahoo groups: Beautiful maids and Beautiful bound maids
(no sissies, you’ve been warned)
Noviembre 30, 2009
Testing 1 . 2 . . 3 . . 4
By Bea
Carla met me at the airport ‑ and the impression she made on me was immediate. I had seen photographs of my stepsister before and knew her to be attractive but the photographs had certainly not shown the animal vitality that exuded from her, and that was something that transformed her from a woman, slightly better looking than most, to an extremely attractive, charismatic, young lady.
‘Hi Fellows!’ I heard her voice calling, as I struggled with my oversize suitcase. ”Damn wheels!” I muttered and let it thump to the ground, then looked up and saw this large healthy creature bearing down on me exuberantly. Next thing, I was in her embrace ‑ just as enthusiastically given as her approach had been. Then I was kissed, with lots of warmth. She finally released me and stepped back a pace.
“Sorry about your dad. I only met him the one time, but you look a lot like him ‑ that’s how I knew you. Here. Let me give you a hand ” . With that, she took hold and pulled the case upright.
“It’s these goddam wheels that are supposed to let you roll it along the ground. They’re stuck or something,” I said.
She made an attempt to pull it, then seeing that there was a problem, simply lifted my suitcase easily ‑ and took off carrying it instead of rolling it, me trailing behind her.
” I’m not trying to rush you, ” she said over her shoulder, ” but I’m illegally parked, and mummy’ll raise hell if I get any more tickets. “
So, laden though she was, I had to scurry after her. She did slow down for a second though, and I caught up.
“Do me a favor? ” she asked.
“Sure.” I said.
“Carry this for me if you don’t mind. It’s a bloody nuisance. “
And I found myself following her again, this time carrying her handbag. Once more I had to rush to keep up, now with the horrible realization that I was following a young woman carrying a heavy suitcase through a busy public area, while I had been relegated to carrying her handbag while she did so.
To make matters worse, it wasn’t one of these big types that I could have slung over my shoulder ‑ the strap was too short. If it had even been a little smaller, I could have carried it under my jacket, and hidden it that way. As it was, however, it was bright red in color and, being medium sized I had to carry it the only way I could ‑ by the straps, as it was meant to be. I was still blushing at some of the amused looks I got from women by the time we reached her car.
She opened the trunk, and effortlessly heaved the suitcase in. ”Christ! ” she said “That was heavy! What you got in there? The kitchen sink? ” Then she added ”Thanks.” as she took her handbag back from me.
I was overawed by this creature. Some years older than me, she had been heavily involved in some post‑doctoral psychological study when my father and her mother married some two years before, and could not make the wedding. She’d been off somewhere else when my dad died and couldn’t make the funeral. This, therefore, was our first face to face meeting. Still in a somewhat bemused state I got into the passenger side beside her, and immediately got pressed back into the seat as she accelerated out of the parking lot at a much higher rate of speed than caution would dictate. In no time, we were a long way from the airport.
She was a good driver, obviously aware of everything going on around her, but relaxed, nonetheless.
” I know I’m not that much older than you ” she said slowly ”But if you want me to, I can maybe help with your current problem? I’ve also been told to tell you that mother is really sorry that she couldn’t be here to meet you… “
“Thanks. I said gratefully. ” I’m really grateful to both of you, for offering to put me up ‑ considering I hardly know either of you ‑ and what with the short notice, and all.. . .? “
She took one of her hands off the wheel, waved it airily about. ”No problem. But one thing is really puzzling me… ?” she started.
“The hair?” I said and laughed, having a damned good idea of what she was going to say..
She nodded. ”Yeah. I never heard of a military college allowing long hair like yours.”
“They don’t. ” I answered. “That was simply one of the issues. I finally got so fed up with all of their bullshit that I just flat‑out refused to get it cut. “
“Would have thought they’d want to expel you.” she stated thoughtfully.
“Anyone else ‑ probably. ” I answered “But when you think of the bequests that my father made to that school – and that your mother continued?”
“Ah! I see ” she said. So what is the current situation?”
“The way I figure, I’ve been sent back to your mother so that she can talk some sense into my head ‑ convince me to go back and finish my senior year. “
“From your tone of voice, this would not appear to be your option of choice? ” she asked.
“You got that right ” I replied with warmth. “I hate that goddam place. “
“Do you have any career in mind? ” she asked. ”Like some kind of inner drive to be an attorney, or a doctor… ” she took her eyes off the road momentarily, and shot a glance at me ” ..anything? “
I shook my head. “To tell the truth, nothing. I just hate that place, and want out. “
“Are your grades good enough to transfer out to another good school? ” she asked. Then, as I paused she spoke again ”Look. Honestly. If I’m butting in, just tell me and I’ll mind my own business… “
“Oh, you’re not ” I said hastily. ” I’m just glad to be talking to someone who isn’t yelling at me. “
She laughed in an understanding way and I continued “No, my grades are pretty shitty to tell the truth. It was dad’s pull that got me in there to begin with ‑ and your mother’s since then that’s kept me there. But I don’t care what I’m going to do with my life. Right now, I just want out!”
“Oh god ” she said “If only parents would realize the damage they can do by forcing kids into schools that aren’t suitable for them. Do you know that a large part of my field involves the determination of people’s aptitudes and skills? It’s more career oriented than school subjects, but there would have to be a lot of similarities I should think.”
” I had an idea it was something like that ” I replied, then added excitedly as the thought struck me. ”I wonder, do you think you could test me.. Or whatever it is you do? “
She grimaced. “I’d kinda like to help. But mother gets back from her cruise in about two weeks, and that’s really not enough time…” Shook her head. ”You being family? I don’t know . . “
“But surely you could at least run the tests?.. ” I started.
“You don’t really understand ” she replied “It’s not just the tests. They’re easy enough. It’s the .. how can I put it ? The psychological “fitting” of the results to the person tested. The findings aren’t always universally pleasing. ” She laughed “As a matter of fact, more people bitch than anything… “
” I wouldn’t bitch ” I interrupted sincerely. ” I’ll try whatever you come up with. “
She laughed again. “Would really like to help you .. “
“You did offer.. ” I reminded her, with just a shade of reproach in my voice.
Her voice got a little cool. ”Don’t get manipulative with me, dearie. I said I might be able to help.” Then she paused, thinking. ”Look.” she said firmly. ” I know that I’m not supposed to pre‑assess people, but I do. Not only that, I’m pretty accurate.. ” she paused.
“And you think I won’t like what you tell me? ” I guessed.
She nodded in agreement, but didn’t add anything.
“Would it possibly get me out of going back to that school? ” I pressed.
“Look Fellows. Mum and I had more than one discussion about you with your dad and I’ll admit I have some preconceptions about you. If they prove to be correct I’d say that it would be eminently possible ‑ but don’t bet on it ” she replied.
“Good preconceptions or bad preconceptions?” I asked coyly.
“Never you mind,” she said, but with humor, then added. ”No what I’m trying to say is that if I assume that my preconceptions are accurate, it would cut down on the amount of time I’d need for the testing. If they were wrong? They’d probably invalidate every test you took – and it would be a LOT of wasted time.”
“Going to think about helping me then?” I asked.
“It looks like I might – but give me a little time to think it over, okay?”
“Please! ” I said excitedly. “C’mon Carla ‑ please! “
“Well… I’ve three weeks left of my sabbatical… ” she mused, obviously starting to relent.
“Great! ” I enthused “Thanks, so very much! “
” I didn’t agree yet ” she said calmly. “You’re going to have to agree to certain conditions first.”
” I agree. I agree ” I laughed.
She laughed too. “Now listen Fellows ‑ where did you get that name from, by the way? “
“Bane of my life ‑ hate the bloody thing ‑ old family name ” I replied ”But what about the conditions? “
She thought for a second “Okay. Listen carefully. You’ll have to take a series of tests, some written, some oral. Some of the questions are going to be very, very, personal ‑ but I’ll want your promise to be as honest as possible. Do you agree? “
“Absolutely! Is that all? ” I replied.
“No. One more. The most important. From the moment you take the test, you have to accept the fact that you’ll be under intense psychological review. We can’t be friends ‑ not even step brother and sister. I’ll be asking you to do things that may or may not make sense, but I’ll want them done ‑ no fooling around, just do them. The minute you start fooling about? The testing will be over – and I’ll refuse to give you any readings “
“Oh, I’ll do what you want – but just in case I screw up, won’t you tell me what your findings are at all?”
“Absolutely not. You sign up for the duration of the review and you have to trust me totally, or the deal’s off.”
I grinned “Put myself in your hands, eh? “
” I’m serious ” she insisted. This is my career field, and it’s just as important to me… “
” I’m sorry ” I interrupted contritely ” I just get excited at the thought of getting out of that place, and the thought that you might be able to help me do it is kinda overwhelming. . . “
And, right then, she wheeled the car in to a long driveway, and after a minute or two we pulled up to the front of a large house.
Having been in trouble (even then) when my dad remarried, I had only been allowed to go to the ceremony and the hotel reception before being shunted back to school that same evening ‑ so had not seen the house then. On following holidays, I had only met with my dad and new mother, then traveled with them.
Then, as dad had left specific instructions to be buried in the family plot at Richmond, that ceremony had been performed there when he died, making this the first time I had seen my stepmother’s house.
“Go on in, and meet Rose. I’ll get your luggage ” she said, as we exited the car.
Frankly, I wanted to get it myself, but the thought that I might have to ask for her help to get it out of the trunk ‑ and I was pretty sure I would need help – dissuaded me. As I started towards the house, I heard her call out behind me “Hey Fell! “
Turning, I was just in time to catch the same handbag that had embarrassed me at the airport, as it flew through the air towards me. “You don’t mind, do you? ” she asked.
What could I say? I caught it, shook my head and, turning towards the entry, saw a pretty young woman in a maids uniform come out of the door, obviously positioned to see me walk towards her, my dainty little handbag in my hand. A quick look of puzzlement crossed her face in a flash, followed by what I could have sworn was a grin, then just as quickly replaced by a look of innocent interest. ”Can I take your bag sir? ” she asked in what I took to be a very successful attempt to embarrass me.
“No , you can’t, you silly little bugger ” I heard Carla call from behind me before I could answer. ”But you can come and take care of this one. “
And, disbelievingly, I watched this young girl ‑ no bigger than me – walk down to Carla, and take the case from her with no problem whatsoever. As Carla didn’t immediately offer to take her handbag back from me, I had to carry it into my new home ‑ not a triumphal entry on my part by any means.
It didn’t take me long to get my stuff unpacked – a lot of the weight had been my favorite books which I wasn’t about to leave back at the military academy that had been my home for some time. I wasn’t very popular with the cadet body and god knows what they’d have done with my belongings given half a chance.
My room was nice and open. Nice view onto the garden and although it was a little on the feminine side, I didn’t mind. After the barrack- like quarters I had just left, any change had to be for the better. There was plenty of closet space – especially since I had left all the hated uniforms at the academy. Damned if I was ever gonna wear another uniform for as long as I lived! I knew I needed all sorts of clothes but had maxed out the one credit card I had. Knew that I was probably looking at a major lecture from Edna, my step mother as it was, so decided to try and get by until she got back. Could then ‘confess’, hopefully be forgiven, and maybe do some shopping then.
I wandered downstairs after a while, and found Carla getting prepared to go out. “Hi Fell,” she said cheerily, “All settled in? Room okay?”
“Perfect, thanks,” I said. ”Room’s great!”
She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run out for a while. May not be back in time for dinner. Would you mind eating with Rose, if I’m not?”
“No problem,” I smiled.
“Good! Not one of those snotty kids who look down on servants?”
“Heaven’s no!”
She paused, obviously thinking. “Look. This testing is going to take a while and I’m afraid that I’ll want to pen you up in the house while you’re taking it. Rose never complains, but I think she may have been off color for the last week or so. Think you could maybe try and keep her company? Cheer her up – maybe give her a hand around the house? She’s really very nice.”
“Be glad to help any way I can,” I said.
She looked at her watch again. ”Well, I must be off. Let Rose know what we’ve just talked about will you?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer, just gave me a warm hug, then headed for the door. ”Gotta rush! See yah!” Suddenly, she stopped. “Just had a thought. Why not offer your company and help to Rose as if it came directly from you? She’d probably warm to you much quicker that way.”
“Doesn’t matter much, one way or the other.” I said.
“Okay. See you! Bye!” And with that, Carla was gone.
I found Rose sitting in the kitchen reading a women’s magazine, and sipping on a cup of tea. She stood up immediately and curtsied. “Can I help you sir?” she said.
I blushed, not being used to having pretty young girls curtsey to me – or call me ’sir’ for that matter. ”Oh no! I didn’t mean to disturb you Rose. I’m sorry. Please keep on taking your break. And please? No more curtseying or calling me sir. I’m just Fellows to you, okay?”
She didn’t sit down. ”Like to join me in a cup of tea . .Fellows?” Her smile was warm and genuine.
“Thank you very much Rose. That would be nice.” I said.
We had a lovely chat over our tea and I thoroughly enjoyed her company. Then she frowned at the clock. ”My goodness! Is that the time! Will need to start thinking about getting dinner ready.”
I blushed at my forgetfulness. “I’m sorry. Forgot to tell you. Carla said that she had to go out and might not be back in time for dinner.”
“Oh that girl!” Rose laughed. ”Always on the go! But I’ll set the table for your dinner and make enough so that if she does come back, there’ll be enough to feed her.”
“Please don’t go to any trouble for me Rose. If Carla’s not going to be here, couldn’t I just eat dinner here in the kitchen with you?” I suggested.
Her face lit up with a glow. “How nice of you! That would be wonderful! Such a nice boy!” Then she added “Though I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” Almost as if talking to herself.
I couldn’t fathom what she meant, so didn’t respond, but nonetheless, basked in the warmth of her affection. Don’t suppose I could be blamed then, for wanting more. “Can I give you a hand in making dinner?” I asked. ”I’m not very good in a kitchen, but . . .”
“Oh! Of COURSE you can, you sweet boy! Why didn’t I think of that!” She enthused, interrupting me enthusiastically.
She looked almost befuddled for a moment – almost as if overcome with anticipation. ”Can you peel potatoes?” she asked coyly.
“I suppose so,” I replied. ”Probably not the right way, but there’s not too much brainwork involved, is there?”
“Oh, such modesty! I’ll bet that you’re VERY good! But let’s get you started, shall we dear? Let me get an apron for you!”
I stared in astonishment as she scurried off to some hooks in the larder and came back with something white and frilled in her hands.
“Ha Ha!” I said, trying to laugh. “What are you DOING?”
“Stand up you silly thing! What do you think I’m doing?”
“Not putting that thing on me!” I said firmly, but rising from the table nonetheless.
“But of course I am,” she laughed. You work in my kitchen, you wear an apron. You can’t have that many clothes with you, right?”
“Yeah , but . .”
“Then you don’t want to get them dirty, do you?” As she spoke she was putting the apron on over my head. She then simply pulled me around, and started to tie me into it. Within seconds, I had been fitted into the apron and she then started fooling around with my hair!
“What on earth are you . . .?” I started to complain, but she had already released my pony tail from the rubber band I used to hold it, fluffed my hair out a bit, then was rapidly plaiting it into a French Braid. She then removed a few pins from her own hair and pinned my new hairdo in place. I then stood helplessly as she whipped something white and gauzy and put it over my hair – a maid’s mob cap. Pulled a few tendrils of my hair out at the front, then pinned the cap in place.
“There!” she said brightly. ”Bet you feel much better now!” Then her expression changed instantly to one of concern. “Oh dear! I didn’t think to ask you.” She plucked at her lacy white apron. ”This is much prettier, would you prefer one like this?”
“No Rose. I’m just trying to tell you . .” I said, beginning to get frustrated.
“That’s good!” she interrupted. ”Let’s get you started on these potatoes, shall we?” With that, she took a gentle hold on my arm and I was led over to the sink. There, she pulled a potato peeler from a drawer and gave it to me, then from a storage bin she pulled six or seven potatoes and put them on top of the kitchen counter. ”May as well get started, huh? I’ll get a pan and water for you.”
I had just started peeling the potatoes when I heard the front door open and, seconds later, Carla was standing in the doorway. She didn’t seem to have any problems with what I was doing – or how I was dressed. Smiled at Rose. ”Didn’t take you long, did it?”
Rose pretended to take insult. “Well the little dear offered. What was I to do, refuse him?”
I had the sickening feeling that the ‘little dear’ she referred to was me, but lost my train of thought as Carla was speaking , ”Fellows? It just dawned on me. The first test I want you to take? I had intended to be the interrogator for you, but as there is no real skill needed in asking the questions I figured that Rose could do the interrogation and I could take care of recording of your answers – if that’s all right by you. The pair of you seem to have established a great rapport already and I’d like to take advantage of that. I’d observe – again with your approval, of course..”
I was feeling strangely nervous. There was something in the air. Not malicious – more like an amused tolerance being exuded by the two women. It reminded me of times in my childhood when a bully – or a group of school children would gang up on me. They’d always pretend friendship but would usually crowd me physically, asking supposedly innocent questions then, no matter how I answered, they would all howl with glee and repeat what I’d said as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. I’d learned through experience just to go along with whatever was being asked of me. Suffered no little humiliation, but usually escaped unscathed, although one time three girls had seemed to get incensed at my agreeable replies and spanked me, each of them taking a turn at putting me over their knees..
“Anything you think is alright is okay by me,” I managed to say. “But I thought you were going to be late Carla?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t work out that way. No problem in feeding me, is there Rose?”
Rose laughed. ”None at all – though Fellows? Think you could peel a few more potatoes?”
Carla decided to eat in the dining room – alone. Had some serious thinking she wanted to do, and didn’t want to be distracted – and if I ate with Rose, she and I could continue to build on our budding relationship – right? We’d run the test after dinner.
I felt really out of place serving Carla her meal, but she was involved in reading the evening paper and didn’t seem to find anything wrong in being served by a young man performing the functions of a maid. I was a little put out at not seeing any action on her part that would indicate that she was doing anything close to serious thinking, but felt too intimidated to say anything. I mean, it’s not that I’m brave anyway, but dressed in my flowing apron and frilled cap as I was, felt as if I were at a decided disadvantage.
There was a distinct impression in the kitchen that once the mistress (Carla) was served, the serving girls (of which I was one) could relax and have our own meal. Naturally I would have been only too glad to be rid of my feminine accoutrements but the moment I started to undo my cap, Rose transfixed me with a look that was anything but friendly. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Well? I thought. See? I’m not too used to wearing aprons and stuff. . .” I stopped, knowing full well that I was babbling and, intimidated by her stare, dropping my hands to my sides. She gave me a smile to ease the pain of my obvious submission. “Just have to put your cap and apron back on when you do the dishes, no?”
“I guess so.” I surrendered completely.
“Yes. But if you’re good? Very VERY good? I may give you a hand! Isn’t that nice of me?” she cooed.
“Yes Rose,” I said and sat down to eat – my apron and cap still firmly in place.
Our meal was over fairly quickly and while she went to get Carla’s dishes, I started getting the others ready for the dishwasher. It didn’t take too long before everything was tidied away, and the dishwasher busily pumping water in doing the dishes.
“Okay! Shall we get to that test that Carla was talking about?” Rose suggested, taking off her apron and cap and shaking her hair loose.
“Can I take this stuff off too?” I asked humorously, my hands reaching for the bow at my back.
An aggravated expression crossed her face and she shook her head. “For goodness sake! What is all of this negative attitude towards a simple apron and cap? I wear them all the time!”
“But you’re just a . . I mean . . they’re part of your job. I mean . .” I was stammering, blushing furiously.
“Just a maid? That what you were going to say? Just a common servant, that it?” She bit the words off, really glaring at me now.
I didn’t answer. Just stared at the carpet, humiliated at being talked to in this manner, but unable to defend myself.
Suddenly, to my surprise, I saw her feet very close to mine, and knew that she was standing directly in front of me. Then, shocked, I felt her thumb and forefinger close viselike around my ear! “Ow Rose! That’s sore!” I bleated, but she didn’t let go.
“Didn’t you offer to help me? Isn’t that the truth?” she demanded.
“Yes Rose, but . .”
“Doesn’t that mean that you offered to work for me then? Do what I tell you?”
“I didn’t mean . .”
“Doesn’t it?” she hissed, tugging forcibly on my ear as if trying to pull it off.
“OW! Yes Rose – I guess so! I’m sorry!”
The tugging ceased and the pressure on my earlobe diminished, though she kept a hold. “So when you’re giving me a hand you’ll wear what I tell you, right?”
“Yes Rose.” I mumbled in abject surrender.
She let go. ”Very well. Shall we go and get started on that test?”
I rubbed at my ear. “Wow Rose! That was sore. You didn’t have to be so mean!”
I flinched as she raised her arm, but all she did was wrap it around my shoulders in a comforting way. “There there now! Rose is sorry. But I’m just doing it for your own good. Teaching you that your word has to mean something. Teaching you that even a lowly maid like me has feelings that can be hurt. Do you see that?”
Her arm was still around my shoulders, but she was exerting some power as she finished, which I took to be a mild warning.
“Yes Rose.”
“Well then?”
“Well then? I don’t know what you want.” I said helplessly.
She brought her mouth close to my ear and whispered seductively “Shouldn’t you be thanking me for teaching you these things?”
“Yes. I suppose so. Thanks.” I grumbled.
“Naughty!” she said, but with a laugh in her voice. “It doesn’t sound as if you mean it! Don’t you mean it?” Her arm was starting to crush my shoulders. I immediately saw the error of my ways.
“Oh yes Rose! I’m sorry. Thank you very much!”
“MUCH better!” she said happily. “But wouldn’t you like to thank me properly?”
“But I just did! Told you that . .” I started.
She let go of my shoulders and stood back from me, ignoring what I was saying completely. Smiled beatifically. “Take the sides of your apron skirts in your hands, like this.”
“Like this?” I said, doing as I was told.
“Yes, very good. Now keep holding onto your apron, just like that, but slide your right foot behind your left. That’s it! Excellent! Now, curtsey and say thank you!”
I knew that my mouth was gaping in protest, but I was learning. Curtsied to the maid of the house. “Thank you,” I said humbly.
“Nicely done dear – but do it again, huh? Call me Miss Rose this time, okay? Maybe a little smile for me too?”
I curtsied prettily, making sure I did it properly, not wanting to be doing this any more than I had to. “Thank you Miss Rose,” I simpered.
“Thassagirl!” she crowed. ”Let’s go!”
After she spoke she continued to look directly at me a trace of amusement starting to show in her eyes as it became obvious that I wasn’t going to react to being addressed as a girl. She linked her arm in mine and my apron swishing about my legs, we made our way to Carla’s bedroom. I wondered why we were there, but just felt that it was the wrong time to be asking questions. Rose pointed to the dressing table. “Just sit on the bench there and face the mirror, would you sweetie?”
As I sat where I’d been told, I heard a toilet flush and a few seconds later the door to Carla’s bathroom opened and she joined us. I saw her looking at me in the mirror reflection. ”Give you any trouble?” she asked Rose.
“Nah! He’s a real doll. A real sweetheart!” Rose laughed. She stood directly behind me, using both of her hands to massage my shoulders.
“Any advances?” Carla asked.
“Not really. Though I did call him a girl once.”
“He take that all right?”
“Of course! Told you he’s a real doll. Have you got that test for me to look at? May as well give it to him while I work on his hair.”
“Sure!” Carla said, picking up a sheet of paper from a table and handing it over to Rose, who gave it a quick glance, then laid it face up on the dressing table.
“I thought you had all of the questions memorized?” Carla asked as she went to sit back down at her desk chair. I saw her pick up a pen and ready some blank paper in front of her and turn on a tape recorder.
“Well I did,” Rose said as she started to remove my dust cap, ”but it just dawned on me that if I’m concentrating on him, I’ll probably get distracted and start forgetting the questions – and the order they go on.” She giggled. ”Then I’d probably have to listen to you ranting and raving.”
Carla looked up. “Would you get on with it please? I don’t rant and rave – as you so nastily put it. I am, after all, a trained psychologist my dear while you? You are nothing but a housemaid.”
I was shocked at her words, expecting an outburst form Rose, but they both laughed companionably and Rose was now unpinning my French braid – much to my relief.
“His hair looks quite nice that way,” Carla said. ”Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Oh yes!” Rose answered, then spoke to me. ”Fellows? Your full name and date of birth please.”
“Oh come on!” I laughed, then let out a yelp as she flicked my ear with one of her pointed fingernails and asked again. “Name and date of birth please.”
I told her, then stared, stupefied, as she was picking a pink roller from a full box on top of the dressing table. ”What.. What are you doing Rose?” I panted as she proceeded to take a strand of my hair and roll it expertly onto the roller, then pin it in place.
“Fellows? Please just answer the question,” Carla said sternly from the desk. “We don’t want to be taking all day to get this done, do we? Don’t forget about our conversation in the car, so if you’d just please shut up and answer the questions that Rose asks you, both Rose and I would appreciate it. Okay?”
As Carla was talking, Rose was deftly putting my hair into strands and rolling it, then pinning it in place. I’d never paid any attention into how ladies set their hair, but what she was doing looked peculiar in that she was only positioning each roller about one third to half way up the length of each strand, not rolling it tight to the scalp as I’d have figured. Then I saw that she was now almost on autopilot with only half of her attention on what she was doing, the other half was focused on me again and she was now staring at me in the mirror. ”Yes Fellows,” she said. ”Can we get on with it? Tell me about the school classes you took in elementary school.”
It may sound weird, but somehow, the question took my mind off what she was doing to me. Caught my interest and I responded. I actually got quite animated as she continued to ask about the various teachers – who I liked, who I didn’t. It was more like a friendly gossip with an old friend than any kind of test. I got more animated as she led me thorough Junior High school, then kinda surly as we got into my High school record. With my mental distraction then, it was quite a surprise for me to see that she had pulled my hair upright and was using a few tortoiseshell combs to hold it in place. She then produced a sort of white plastic wand – and proceeded to CURL my hair that was untouched so far, giving me a decided set of bangs across my forehead! Then, she produced this squeeze bottle and proceeded to apply some of the contents to all of the rollers, now piled high on my head. ”This won’t take any time at all dearie. You have naturally curly hair. Just wait and see!”
While my mouth was still open in a combination of fright and astonishment, she then wrapped my whole hairdo in a white chiffon scarf, a sort of turban-like arrangement. ”There!” she said with a high degree of satisfaction. “Scoot over honey! Let’s get to work on your nails!”
I felt thoroughly helpless as she then proceeded to adhere false, scarlet colored, nails over my own. I was now almost terrified to look at myself in the mirror – a strange, androgynous, reflection would look back at me when I did – a frightened expression in his/her eyes. Every so often, Rose would catch me sneaking a peek there and would smile encouragingly “Getting there, honey!” she’d say – or something like that – and then ask me another question, or apply herself to my nails.
The questions she was asking now were ranging further afield, covering a much wider range of topics – did I prefer white or black? What did I think of the feminist movement? What did I think of the Right to Life movement as against Women’s Rights? In many of the cases, I really didn’t have any opinion and was forced to say so. Sometimes she was pleased by this, sometimes not. Then she started undressing me! Unbuttoning my shirt!
“What are you doing Rose?” I complained, but making no attempt to stop her.
“What do you think?” Carla interjected – the first I’d heard from her in a while.
“Carla? Stay out of this for a second, okay?” Rose said quietly. “I’ve got something that might be worth a try.”
Carla was not offended in the slightest. ”Run with it,” was all she said.
Rose was sitting alongside, though almost facing me on the makeup bench. Gently, she removed her hands from my shirt then used them to take my face on either side, and turned me to face her directly. ”Look at me!” she said quietly but commandingly.
I did, but could only look at her for a few seconds, before dropping my gaze.
“Do you think that I could spank you if I wanted to?” she asked quietly.
“Is this part of the test Rose?” I answered after considering what she’d said for a few seconds.
“No.” She answered softly. “But do you think I could spank you if I wanted?”
“Maybe?” I said slowly, starting to blush.
“Forget the ‘maybe’” she snorted. ”Yes or No?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” I prevaricated.
She smiled, tweaked my cheek between her thumb and forefinger. “Sweetie? Want me to try?”
I hung my head in reply.
“Tell you what?” she cooed. “Just say, ‘Please don’t spank me Rose – and I won’t. That’s all that it takes. If you don’t? I’ll have to put you over my knees. That what you want?”
“But I haven’t done anything bad!” I moaned.
“Don’t be naughty now! Just do as I told you!” She took me in her arms after telling me this.
“Please don’t spank me Rose,” I mumbled, near tears, my head on her shoulder but my eyes taking in Carla’s interested face as she watched Rose’s growing domination over me..
“You Rose’s good little girl?” Rose cooed triumphantly, hugging me tightly.
“Yes.” I admitted – and started to cry softly.
“There! Let’s get this silly old shirt off. Get some proper clothes on, shall we?”
And, somehow, I was now sitting there, gloriously enhanced by false breasts, after pushing my arms through the loops of a jet black, lacy bra – “You did say you liked black better, did you not?” she reminded me – and proceeded to fasten it at the back.
Then I was diving into a circle of black satin that transformed itself into a full black slip as it slid and tumbled its way down over my body. Blushed with a type of glorious shame as she praised me for being so good as I voluntarily stood up and divested myself from all the remaining vestiges of my male clothing.. Kept my eyes shyly on the ground as I stepped, one foot at a time into the glossy black matching panties, and pulled them up into place underneath my slip then sat down again, completely under this young girl’s control.
“Let’s get your garter belt and stockings on, shall we? Then we can pluck these eyebrows of yours and put your makeup on. Shall we?” she said, and I nodded meekly.
A little while later I could see that it was more of a girl in the mirror than a boy. Pouting scarlet lips, sultry dark eyes, with just a hint of blue eyeshadow. Cheeks with a hint of blush and a slight aura of a pleasant floral perfume surrounding me. The rollers had been removed from my hair and I was now crowned by a plethora of curls atop a column of hair, held in place with tortoiseshell combs, a blue velvet bow sitting prettily in place at the front of my hairdo.
“Very good!” Rose said. “Now why don’t you go and let Miss Carla have a look at you. Go on – don’t be shy!”
I didn’t have shoes on and felt positively small – no that’s not correct – I WAS dainty and petite as I slowly walked over to face Carla at her desk. She nodded approvingly, then said nothing but made a circling gesture with her finger. I turned slowly, then blushed furiously as she made a soft wolf whistle.
“Very nice! Now sit on that chair. Rose, you did a great job. Why don’t you come and sit beside her.”
I plucked nervously at the lace hem of my slip. ”Is the test over now Carla?” I asked softly.
Rose was sitting close by me. Put an arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick hug.
“Honey? Back when you didn’t stop me putting on your apron and cap? The test was pretty well over then.”
I took an excited breath and was suddenly conscious of the orbs of my breasts rising inside the lacy satin cups of my bra. ”But . . But . . then? Why all of . of . . this? The clothes and the makeup and perfume? Why did you do all of this?” I then noticed that even though I felt indignant inside, my voice was soft and demure.
“We wanted to make a point Fellows,” Carla said. “I was pretty sure you were a submissive at heart. Felt it would be a good idea to check and see how far you’d go.”
“Carla? I don’t get this part.” Rose said. “Okay, she’s nice and meek and docile – but look at the fight she put up at the military academy. I don’t see how you could have figured she was a submissive when all of that shit was going down.”
“It was something his dad – sorry, her dad dropped one night in passing – and we just verified today. he’s – dammit, SHE’S ! – submissive to females and only females. Didn’t you notice how well he did at school when he had lady teachers – and how bad the performance was for men teachers?”
“Ah!” Rose said. ”I see.”
Carla turned her attention back to me. “I’m not being critical of you, but you not only want female domination, you’ll do just about anything to get it. I should probably do further testing, but right now it’d probably be a waste of time. Mom should be home tonight . .”
“I thought she was on a cruise?” I interjected.
“Nah. Sorry I had to lie about that, but I figured that if you knew she was close by, you might let it cloud your perspective – stand up for yourself more . . “
“But you can’t let her see me like this!” I said desperately.
“Of course not!” she answered agreeably. “We’ve got a pretty formal skirt – you’ll love it, it’s satin – and a really nice velvet top.” She thought for a second. Sighed. “I’d really wanted to get you a debutants dress for your coming-out tonight, but figured that it would probably spoil your real coming out . . “
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said desperately. “Real coming out?”
She leaned forward over her desk. “Your days as a boy are over, effective immediately. It’ll take about a month for you to get into Miss Welch’s Academy for young ladies. There’ll you’ll get all the female teachers you’ve ever wanted. I’m sure you’ll graduate with honors. It’s close by, so you can be a day student. At home here? Rose will be training you on how to comport yourself as a young lady – and you’ll continue to give her a hand about the house. . . “
“But I don’t want to . . . “
“Hush dear! You’re just being a silly argumentative girl now. Which reminds me. You told me that you disliked the Military academy and never wanted to go back. You still feel that way?”
“Yes .. kinda,” I said dubiously.
“Don’t think they’ll take you back wearing dresses, do you?”
I couldn’t help it. A small grin touched my lips. “Don’t think so,” I admitted.
“Another thing? You said that you really disliked your name. Fellows does have a sort of manly ring to it, doesn’t it? How does Phylis sound to you?”
The end
Testing 1 . 2 . . 3 . . 4 By Bea Carla met me at the airport ‑ and the impression she made on me was immediate. I had seen photographs of my stepsister before and knew her to be attractive but the photographs had certainly not shown the animal vitality that exuded from her, and that was something that transformed her from a woman, slightly better looking than most, to an extremely attractive, charismatic, young lady. ’Hi Fellows!’ I heard her voice calling, as I struggled with my oversize suitcase. ”Damn wheels!” I muttered and let it thump to the ground, then looked up and saw this large healthy creature bearing down on me exuberantly. Next thing, I was in her embrace ‑ just as enthusiastically given as her approach had been. Then I was kissed, with lots of warmth. She finally released me and stepped back a pace. ”Sorry about your dad. I only met him the one time, but you look a lot like him ‑ that’s how I knew you. Here. Let me give you a hand ” . With that, she took hold and pulled the case upright.”It’s these goddam wheels that are supposed to let you roll it along the ground. They’re stuck or something,” I said.She made an attempt to pull it, then seeing that there was a problem, simply lifted my suitcase easily ‑ and took off carrying it instead of rolling it, me trailing behind her. ” I’m not trying to rush you, ” she said over her shoulder, ” but I’m illegally parked, and mummy’ll raise hell if I get any more tickets. “ So, laden though she was, I had to scurry after her. She did slow down for a second though, and I caught up. ”Do me a favor? ” she asked. ”Sure.” I said. ”Carry this for me if you don’t mind. It’s a bloody nuisance. “ And I found myself following her again, this time carrying her handbag. Once more I had to rush to keep up, now with the horrible realization that I was following a young woman carrying a heavy suitcase through a busy public area, while I had been relegated to carrying her handbag while she did so. To make matters worse, it wasn’t one of these big types that I could have slung over my shoulder ‑ the strap was too short. If it had even been a little smaller, I could have carried it under my jacket, and hidden it that way. As it was, however, it was bright red in color and, being medium sized I had to carry it the only way I could ‑ by the straps, as it was meant to be. I was still blushing at some of the amused looks I got from women by the time we reached her car. She opened the trunk, and effortlessly heaved the suitcase in. ”Christ! ” she said “That was heavy! What you got in there? The kitchen sink? ” Then she added ”Thanks.” as she took her handbag back from me. I was overawed by this creature. Some years older than me, she had been heavily involved in some post‑doctoral psychological study when my father and her mother married some two years before, and could not make the wedding. She’d been off somewhere else when my dad died and couldn’t make the funeral. This, therefore, was our first face to face meeting. Still in a somewhat bemused state I got into the passenger side beside her, and immediately got pressed back into the seat as she accelerated out of the parking lot at a much higher rate of speed than caution would dictate. In no time, we were a long way from the airport. She was a good driver, obviously aware of everything going on around her, but relaxed, nonetheless. ” I know I’m not that much older than you ” she said slowly ”But if you want me to, I can maybe help with your current problem? I’ve also been told to tell you that mother is really sorry that she couldn’t be here to meet you… “ ”Thanks. I said gratefully. ” I’m really grateful to both of you, for offering to put me up ‑ considering I hardly know either of you ‑ and what with the short notice, and all.. . .? “ She took one of her hands off the wheel, waved it airily about. ”No problem. But one thing is really puzzling me… ?” she started. ”The hair?” I said and laughed, having a damned good idea of what she was going to say.. She nodded. ”Yeah. I never heard of a military college allowing long hair like yours.” ”They don’t. ” I answered. “That was simply one of the issues. I finally got so fed up with all of their bullshit that I just flat‑out refused to get it cut. “ ”Would have thought they’d want to expel you.” she stated thoughtfully. ”Anyone else ‑ probably. ” I answered “But when you think of the bequests that my father made to that school – and that your mother continued?” ”Ah! I see ” she said. So what is the current situation?” ”The way I figure, I’ve been sent back to your mother so that she can talk some sense into my head ‑ convince me to go back and finish my senior year. “ ”From your tone of voice, this would not appear to be your option of choice? ” she asked. ”You got that right ” I replied with warmth. “I hate that goddam place. “ ”Do you have any career in mind? ” she asked. ”Like some kind of inner drive to be an attorney, or a doctor… ” she took her eyes off the road momentarily, and shot a glance at me ” ..anything? “ I shook my head. “To tell the truth, nothing. I just hate that place, and want out. “ ”Are your grades good enough to transfer out to another good school? ” she asked. Then, as I paused she spoke again ”Look. Honestly. If I’m butting in, just tell me and I’ll mind my own business… “ ”Oh, you’re not ” I said hastily. ” I’m just glad to be talking to someone who isn’t yelling at me. “ She laughed in an understanding way and I continued “No, my grades are pretty shitty to tell the truth. It was dad’s pull that got me in there to begin with ‑ and your mother’s since then that’s kept me there. But I don’t care what I’m going to do with my life. Right now, I just want out!” ”Oh god ” she said “If only parents would realize the damage they can do by forcing kids into schools that aren’t suitable for them. Do you know that a large part of my field involves the determination of people’s aptitudes and skills? It’s more career oriented than school subjects, but there would have to be a lot of similarities I should think.” ” I had an idea it was something like that ” I replied, then added excitedly as the thought struck me. ”I wonder, do you think you could test me.. Or whatever it is you do? “ She grimaced. “I’d kinda like to help. But mother gets back from her cruise in about two weeks, and that’s really not enough time…” Shook her head. ”You being family? I don’t know . . ” ”But surely you could at least run the tests?.. ” I started. ”You don’t really understand ” she replied “It’s not just the tests. They’re easy enough. It’s the .. how can I put it ? The psychological “fitting” of the results to the person tested. The findings aren’t always universally pleasing. ” She laughed “As a matter of fact, more people bitch than anything… “ ” I wouldn’t bitch ” I interrupted sincerely. ” I’ll try whatever you come up with. “ She laughed again. “Would really like to help you .. “ ”You did offer.. ” I reminded her, with just a shade of reproach in my voice. Her voice got a little cool. ”Don’t get manipulative with me, dearie. I said I might be able to help.” Then she paused, thinking. ”Look.” she said firmly. ” I know that I’m not supposed to pre‑assess people, but I do. Not only that, I’m pretty accurate.. ” she paused. ”And you think I won’t like what you tell me? ” I guessed.She nodded in agreement, but didn’t add anything. ”Would it possibly get me out of going back to that school? ” I pressed. ”Look Fellows. Mum and I had more than one discussion about you with your dad and I’ll admit I have some preconceptions about you. If they prove to be correct I’d say that it would be eminently possible ‑ but don’t bet on it ” she replied. ”Good preconceptions or bad preconceptions?” I asked coyly.”Never you mind,” she said, but with humor, then added. ”No what I’m trying to say is that if I assume that my preconceptions are accurate, it would cut down on the amount of time I’d need for the testing. If they were wrong? They’d probably invalidate every test you took – and it would be a LOT of wasted time.”"Going to think about helping me then?” I asked.”It looks like I might – but give me a little time to think it over, okay?” ”Please! ” I said excitedly. “C’mon Carla ‑ please! “ ”Well… I’ve three weeks left of my sabbatical… ” she mused, obviously starting to relent. ”Great! ” I enthused “Thanks, so very much! “ ” I didn’t agree yet ” she said calmly. “You’re going to have to agree to certain conditions first.” ” I agree. I agree ” I laughed.She laughed too. “Now listen Fellows ‑ where did you get that name from, by the way? “ ”Bane of my life ‑ hate the bloody thing ‑ old family name ” I replied ”But what about the conditions? “ She thought for a second “Okay. Listen carefully. You’ll have to take a series of tests, some written, some oral. Some of the questions are going to be very, very, personal ‑ but I’ll want your promise to be as honest as possible. Do you agree? “ ”Absolutely! Is that all? ” I replied. ”No. One more. The most important. From the moment you take the test, you have to accept the fact that you’ll be under intense psychological review. We can’t be friends ‑ not even step brother and sister. I’ll be asking you to do things that may or may not make sense, but I’ll want them done ‑ no fooling around, just do them. The minute you start fooling about? The testing will be over – and I’ll refuse to give you any readings “ ”Oh, I’ll do what you want – but just in case I screw up, won’t you tell me what your findings are at all?”"Absolutely not. You sign up for the duration of the review and you have to trust me totally, or the deal’s off.”I grinned “Put myself in your hands, eh? “ ” I’m serious ” she insisted. This is my career field, and it’s just as important to me… “ ” I’m sorry ” I interrupted contritely ” I just get excited at the thought of getting out of that place, and the thought that you might be able to help me do it is kinda overwhelming. . . “ And, right then, she wheeled the car in to a long driveway, and after a minute or two we pulled up to the front of a large house. Having been in trouble (even then) when my dad remarried, I had only been allowed to go to the ceremony and the hotel reception before being shunted back to school that same evening ‑ so had not seen the house then. On following holidays, I had only met with my dad and new mother, then traveled with them. Then, as dad had left specific instructions to be buried in the family plot at Richmond, that ceremony had been performed there when he died, making this the first time I had seen my stepmother’s house. ”Go on in, and meet Rose. I’ll get your luggage ” she said, as we exited the car. Frankly, I wanted to get it myself, but the thought that I might have to ask for her help to get it out of the trunk ‑ and I was pretty sure I would need help – dissuaded me. As I started towards the house, I heard her call out behind me “Hey Fell! “ Turning, I was just in time to catch the same handbag that had embarrassed me at the airport, as it flew through the air towards me. “You don’t mind, do you? ” she asked. What could I say? I caught it, shook my head and, turning towards the entry, saw a pretty young woman in a maids uniform come out of the door, obviously positioned to see me walk towards her, my dainty little handbag in my hand. A quick look of puzzlement crossed her face in a flash, followed by what I could have sworn was a grin, then just as quickly replaced by a look of innocent interest. ”Can I take your bag sir? ” she asked in what I took to be a very successful attempt to embarrass me. ”No , you can’t, you silly little bugger ” I heard Carla call from behind me before I could answer. ”But you can come and take care of this one. “ And, disbelievingly, I watched this young girl ‑ no bigger than me – walk down to Carla, and take the case from her with no problem whatsoever. As Carla didn’t immediately offer to take her handbag back from me, I had to carry it into my new home ‑ not a triumphal entry on my part by any means. It didn’t take me long to get my stuff unpacked – a lot of the weight had been my favorite books which I wasn’t about to leave back at the military academy that had been my home for some time. I wasn’t very popular with the cadet body and god knows what they’d have done with my belongings given half a chance. My room was nice and open. Nice view onto the garden and although it was a little on the feminine side, I didn’t mind. After the barrack- like quarters I had just left, any change had to be for the better. There was plenty of closet space – especially since I had left all the hated uniforms at the academy. Damned if I was ever gonna wear another uniform for as long as I lived! I knew I needed all sorts of clothes but had maxed out the one credit card I had. Knew that I was probably looking at a major lecture from Edna, my step mother as it was, so decided to try and get by until she got back. Could then ‘confess’, hopefully be forgiven, and maybe do some shopping then. I wandered downstairs after a while, and found Carla getting prepared to go out. “Hi Fell,” she said cheerily, “All settled in? Room okay?”"Perfect, thanks,” I said. ”Room’s great!”She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run out for a while. May not be back in time for dinner. Would you mind eating with Rose, if I’m not?”"No problem,” I smiled.”Good! Not one of those snotty kids who look down on servants?”"Heaven’s no!”She paused, obviously thinking. “Look. This testing is going to take a while and I’m afraid that I’ll want to pen you up in the house while you’re taking it. Rose never complains, but I think she may have been off color for the last week or so. Think you could maybe try and keep her company? Cheer her up – maybe give her a hand around the house? She’s really very nice.”"Be glad to help any way I can,” I said. She looked at her watch again. ”Well, I must be off. Let Rose know what we’ve just talked about will you?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer, just gave me a warm hug, then headed for the door. ”Gotta rush! See yah!” Suddenly, she stopped. “Just had a thought. Why not offer your company and help to Rose as if it came directly from you? She’d probably warm to you much quicker that way.”"Doesn’t matter much, one way or the other.” I said.”Okay. See you! Bye!” And with that, Carla was gone. I found Rose sitting in the kitchen reading a women’s magazine, and sipping on a cup of tea. She stood up immediately and curtsied. “Can I help you sir?” she said.I blushed, not being used to having pretty young girls curtsey to me – or call me ’sir’ for that matter. ”Oh no! I didn’t mean to disturb you Rose. I’m sorry. Please keep on taking your break. And please? No more curtseying or calling me sir. I’m just Fellows to you, okay?” She didn’t sit down. ”Like to join me in a cup of tea . .Fellows?” Her smile was warm and genuine.”Thank you very much Rose. That would be nice.” I said. We had a lovely chat over our tea and I thoroughly enjoyed her company. Then she frowned at the clock. ”My goodness! Is that the time! Will need to start thinking about getting dinner ready.”I blushed at my forgetfulness. “I’m sorry. Forgot to tell you. Carla said that she had to go out and might not be back in time for dinner.”"Oh that girl!” Rose laughed. ”Always on the go! But I’ll set the table for your dinner and make enough so that if she does come back, there’ll be enough to feed her.”"Please don’t go to any trouble for me Rose. If Carla’s not going to be here, couldn’t I just eat dinner here in the kitchen with you?” I suggested. Her face lit up with a glow. “How nice of you! That would be wonderful! Such a nice boy!” Then she added “Though I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” Almost as if talking to herself. I couldn’t fathom what she meant, so didn’t respond, but nonetheless, basked in the warmth of her affection. Don’t suppose I could be blamed then, for wanting more. “Can I give you a hand in making dinner?” I asked. ”I’m not very good in a kitchen, but . . .”"Oh! Of COURSE you can, you sweet boy! Why didn’t I think of that!” She enthused, interrupting me enthusiastically. She looked almost befuddled for a moment – almost as if overcome with anticipation. ”Can you peel potatoes?” she asked coyly.”I suppose so,” I replied. ”Probably not the right way, but there’s not too much brainwork involved, is there?”"Oh, such modesty! I’ll bet that you’re VERY good! But let’s get you started, shall we dear? Let me get an apron for you!” I stared in astonishment as she scurried off to some hooks in the larder and came back with something white and frilled in her hands. ”Ha Ha!” I said, trying to laugh. “What are you DOING?”"Stand up you silly thing! What do you think I’m doing?”"Not putting that thing on me!” I said firmly, but rising from the table nonetheless.”But of course I am,” she laughed. You work in my kitchen, you wear an apron. You can’t have that many clothes with you, right?”"Yeah , but . .”"Then you don’t want to get them dirty, do you?” As she spoke she was putting the apron on over my head. She then simply pulled me around, and started to tie me into it. Within seconds, I had been fitted into the apron and she then started fooling around with my hair! ”What on earth are you . . .?” I started to complain, but she had already released my pony tail from the rubber band I used to hold it, fluffed my hair out a bit, then was rapidly plaiting it into a French Braid. She then removed a few pins from her own hair and pinned my new hairdo in place. I then stood helplessly as she whipped something white and gauzy and put it over my hair – a maid’s mob cap. Pulled a few tendrils of my hair out at the front, then pinned the cap in place.”There!” she said brightly. ”Bet you feel much better now!” Then her expression changed instantly to one of concern. “Oh dear! I didn’t think to ask you.” She plucked at her lacy white apron. ”This is much prettier, would you prefer one like this?”"No Rose. I’m just trying to tell you . .” I said, beginning to get frustrated. ”That’s good!” she interrupted. ”Let’s get you started on these potatoes, shall we?” With that, she took a gentle hold on my arm and I was led over to the sink. There, she pulled a potato peeler from a drawer and gave it to me, then from a storage bin she pulled six or seven potatoes and put them on top of the kitchen counter. ”May as well get started, huh? I’ll get a pan and water for you.” I had just started peeling the potatoes when I heard the front door open and, seconds later, Carla was standing in the doorway. She didn’t seem to have any problems with what I was doing – or how I was dressed. Smiled at Rose. ”Didn’t take you long, did it?”Rose pretended to take insult. “Well the little dear offered. What was I to do, refuse him?” I had the sickening feeling that the ‘little dear’ she referred to was me, but lost my train of thought as Carla was speaking , ”Fellows? It just dawned on me. The first test I want you to take? I had intended to be the interrogator for you, but as there is no real skill needed in asking the questions I figured that Rose could do the interrogation and I could take care of recording of your answers – if that’s all right by you. The pair of you seem to have established a great rapport already and I’d like to take advantage of that. I’d observe – again with your approval, of course..” I was feeling strangely nervous. There was something in the air. Not malicious – more like an amused tolerance being exuded by the two women. It reminded me of times in my childhood when a bully – or a group of school children would gang up on me. They’d always pretend friendship but would usually crowd me physically, asking supposedly innocent questions then, no matter how I answered, they would all howl with glee and repeat what I’d said as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. I’d learned through experience just to go along with whatever was being asked of me. Suffered no little humiliation, but usually escaped unscathed, although one time three girls had seemed to get incensed at my agreeable replies and spanked me, each of them taking a turn at putting me over their knees.. ”Anything you think is alright is okay by me,” I managed to say. “But I thought you were going to be late Carla?”She shrugged. “Didn’t work out that way. No problem in feeding me, is there Rose?”Rose laughed. ”None at all – though Fellows? Think you could peel a few more potatoes?” Carla decided to eat in the dining room – alone. Had some serious thinking she wanted to do, and didn’t want to be distracted – and if I ate with Rose, she and I could continue to build on our budding relationship – right? We’d run the test after dinner. I felt really out of place serving Carla her meal, but she was involved in reading the evening paper and didn’t seem to find anything wrong in being served by a young man performing the functions of a maid. I was a little put out at not seeing any action on her part that would indicate that she was doing anything close to serious thinking, but felt too intimidated to say anything. I mean, it’s not that I’m brave anyway, but dressed in my flowing apron and frilled cap as I was, felt as if I were at a decided disadvantage. There was a distinct impression in the kitchen that once the mistress (Carla) was served, the serving girls (of which I was one) could relax and have our own meal. Naturally I would have been only too glad to be rid of my feminine accoutrements but the moment I started to undo my cap, Rose transfixed me with a look that was anything but friendly. “What are you doing?” she asked.”Well? I thought. See? I’m not too used to wearing aprons and stuff. . .” I stopped, knowing full well that I was babbling and, intimidated by her stare, dropping my hands to my sides. She gave me a smile to ease the pain of my obvious submission. “Just have to put your cap and apron back on when you do the dishes, no?”"I guess so.” I surrendered completely.”Yes. But if you’re good? Very VERY good? I may give you a hand! Isn’t that nice of me?” she cooed.”Yes Rose,” I said and sat down to eat – my apron and cap still firmly in place. Our meal was over fairly quickly and while she went to get Carla’s dishes, I started getting the others ready for the dishwasher. It didn’t take too long before everything was tidied away, and the dishwasher busily pumping water in doing the dishes. ”Okay! Shall we get to that test that Carla was talking about?” Rose suggested, taking off her apron and cap and shaking her hair loose.”Can I take this stuff off too?” I asked humorously, my hands reaching for the bow at my back.An aggravated expression crossed her face and she shook her head. “For goodness sake! What is all of this negative attitude towards a simple apron and cap? I wear them all the time!”"But you’re just a . . I mean . . they’re part of your job. I mean . .” I was stammering, blushing furiously.”Just a maid? That what you were going to say? Just a common servant, that it?” She bit the words off, really glaring at me now.I didn’t answer. Just stared at the carpet, humiliated at being talked to in this manner, but unable to defend myself. Suddenly, to my surprise, I saw her feet very close to mine, and knew that she was standing directly in front of me. Then, shocked, I felt her thumb and forefinger close viselike around my ear! “Ow Rose! That’s sore!” I bleated, but she didn’t let go.”Didn’t you offer to help me? Isn’t that the truth?” she demanded.”Yes Rose, but . .”"Doesn’t that mean that you offered to work for me then? Do what I tell you?”"I didn’t mean . .”"Doesn’t it?” she hissed, tugging forcibly on my ear as if trying to pull it off.”OW! Yes Rose – I guess so! I’m sorry!” The tugging ceased and the pressure on my earlobe diminished, though she kept a hold. “So when you’re giving me a hand you’ll wear what I tell you, right?”"Yes Rose.” I mumbled in abject surrender.She let go. ”Very well. Shall we go and get started on that test?”I rubbed at my ear. “Wow Rose! That was sore. You didn’t have to be so mean!” I flinched as she raised her arm, but all she did was wrap it around my shoulders in a comforting way. “There there now! Rose is sorry. But I’m just doing it for your own good. Teaching you that your word has to mean something. Teaching you that even a lowly maid like me has feelings that can be hurt. Do you see that?”Her arm was still around my shoulders, but she was exerting some power as she finished, which I took to be a mild warning.”Yes Rose.”"Well then?”"Well then? I don’t know what you want.” I said helplessly.She brought her mouth close to my ear and whispered seductively “Shouldn’t you be thanking me for teaching you these things?”"Yes. I suppose so. Thanks.” I grumbled.”Naughty!” she said, but with a laugh in her voice. “It doesn’t sound as if you mean it! Don’t you mean it?” Her arm was starting to crush my shoulders. I immediately saw the error of my ways.”Oh yes Rose! I’m sorry. Thank you very much!”"MUCH better!” she said happily. “But wouldn’t you like to thank me properly?”"But I just did! Told you that . .” I started.She let go of my shoulders and stood back from me, ignoring what I was saying completely. Smiled beatifically. “Take the sides of your apron skirts in your hands, like this.”"Like this?” I said, doing as I was told.”Yes, very good. Now keep holding onto your apron, just like that, but slide your right foot behind your left. That’s it! Excellent! Now, curtsey and say thank you!” I knew that my mouth was gaping in protest, but I was learning. Curtsied to the maid of the house. “Thank you,” I said humbly.”Nicely done dear – but do it again, huh? Call me Miss Rose this time, okay? Maybe a little smile for me too?”I curtsied prettily, making sure I did it properly, not wanting to be doing this any more than I had to. “Thank you Miss Rose,” I simpered.”Thassagirl!” she crowed. ”Let’s go!” After she spoke she continued to look directly at me a trace of amusement starting to show in her eyes as it became obvious that I wasn’t going to react to being addressed as a girl. She linked her arm in mine and my apron swishing about my legs, we made our way to Carla’s bedroom. I wondered why we were there, but just felt that it was the wrong time to be asking questions. Rose pointed to the dressing table. “Just sit on the bench there and face the mirror, would you sweetie?” As I sat where I’d been told, I heard a toilet flush and a few seconds later the door to Carla’s bathroom opened and she joined us. I saw her looking at me in the mirror reflection. ”Give you any trouble?” she asked Rose.”Nah! He’s a real doll. A real sweetheart!” Rose laughed. She stood directly behind me, using both of her hands to massage my shoulders.”Any advances?” Carla asked.”Not really. Though I did call him a girl once.”"He take that all right?”"Of course! Told you he’s a real doll. Have you got that test for me to look at? May as well give it to him while I work on his hair.”"Sure!” Carla said, picking up a sheet of paper from a table and handing it over to Rose, who gave it a quick glance, then laid it face up on the dressing table.”I thought you had all of the questions memorized?” Carla asked as she went to sit back down at her desk chair. I saw her pick up a pen and ready some blank paper in front of her and turn on a tape recorder.”Well I did,” Rose said as she started to remove my dust cap, ”but it just dawned on me that if I’m concentrating on him, I’ll probably get distracted and start forgetting the questions – and the order they go on.” She giggled. ”Then I’d probably have to listen to you ranting and raving.” Carla looked up. “Would you get on with it please? I don’t rant and rave – as you so nastily put it. I am, after all, a trained psychologist my dear while you? You are nothing but a housemaid.” I was shocked at her words, expecting an outburst form Rose, but they both laughed companionably and Rose was now unpinning my French braid – much to my relief.”His hair looks quite nice that way,” Carla said. ”Are you sure you want to do this?”"Oh yes!” Rose answered, then spoke to me. ”Fellows? Your full name and date of birth please.”"Oh come on!” I laughed, then let out a yelp as she flicked my ear with one of her pointed fingernails and asked again. “Name and date of birth please.” I told her, then stared, stupefied, as she was picking a pink roller from a full box on top of the dressing table. ”What.. What are you doing Rose?” I panted as she proceeded to take a strand of my hair and roll it expertly onto the roller, then pin it in place.”Fellows? Please just answer the question,” Carla said sternly from the desk. “We don’t want to be taking all day to get this done, do we? Don’t forget about our conversation in the car, so if you’d just please shut up and answer the questions that Rose asks you, both Rose and I would appreciate it. Okay?” As Carla was talking, Rose was deftly putting my hair into strands and rolling it, then pinning it in place. I’d never paid any attention into how ladies set their hair, but what she was doing looked peculiar in that she was only positioning each roller about one third to half way up the length of each strand, not rolling it tight to the scalp as I’d have figured. Then I saw that she was now almost on autopilot with only half of her attention on what she was doing, the other half was focused on me again and she was now staring at me in the mirror. ”Yes Fellows,” she said. ”Can we get on with it? Tell me about the school classes you took in elementary school.” It may sound weird, but somehow, the question took my mind off what she was doing to me. Caught my interest and I responded. I actually got quite animated as she continued to ask about the various teachers – who I liked, who I didn’t. It was more like a friendly gossip with an old friend than any kind of test. I got more animated as she led me thorough Junior High school, then kinda surly as we got into my High school record. With my mental distraction then, it was quite a surprise for me to see that she had pulled my hair upright and was using a few tortoiseshell combs to hold it in place. She then produced a sort of white plastic wand – and proceeded to CURL my hair that was untouched so far, giving me a decided set of bangs across my forehead! Then, she produced this squeeze bottle and proceeded to apply some of the contents to all of the rollers, now piled high on my head. ”This won’t take any time at all dearie. You have naturally curly hair. Just wait and see!” While my mouth was still open in a combination of fright and astonishment, she then wrapped my whole hairdo in a white chiffon scarf, a sort of turban-like arrangement. ”There!” she said with a high degree of satisfaction. “Scoot over honey! Let’s get to work on your nails!” I felt thoroughly helpless as she then proceeded to adhere false, scarlet colored, nails over my own. I was now almost terrified to look at myself in the mirror – a strange, androgynous, reflection would look back at me when I did – a frightened expression in his/her eyes. Every so often, Rose would catch me sneaking a peek there and would smile encouragingly “Getting there, honey!” she’d say – or something like that – and then ask me another question, or apply herself to my nails. The questions she was asking now were ranging further afield, covering a much wider range of topics – did I prefer white or black? What did I think of the feminist movement? What did I think of the Right to Life movement as against Women’s Rights? In many of the cases, I really didn’t have any opinion and was forced to say so. Sometimes she was pleased by this, sometimes not. Then she started undressing me! Unbuttoning my shirt! ”What are you doing Rose?” I complained, but making no attempt to stop her.”What do you think?” Carla interjected – the first I’d heard from her in a while.”Carla? Stay out of this for a second, okay?” Rose said quietly. “I’ve got something that might be worth a try.”Carla was not offended in the slightest. ”Run with it,” was all she said. Rose was sitting alongside, though almost facing me on the makeup bench. Gently, she removed her hands from my shirt then used them to take my face on either side, and turned me to face her directly. ”Look at me!” she said quietly but commandingly. I did, but could only look at her for a few seconds, before dropping my gaze. ”Do you think that I could spank you if I wanted to?” she asked quietly.”Is this part of the test Rose?” I answered after considering what she’d said for a few seconds.”No.” She answered softly. “But do you think I could spank you if I wanted?”"Maybe?” I said slowly, starting to blush.”Forget the ‘maybe’” she snorted. ”Yes or No?”"Honestly? I don’t know.” I prevaricated. She smiled, tweaked my cheek between her thumb and forefinger. “Sweetie? Want me to try?”I hung my head in reply.”Tell you what?” she cooed. “Just say, ‘Please don’t spank me Rose – and I won’t. That’s all that it takes. If you don’t? I’ll have to put you over my knees. That what you want?”"But I haven’t done anything bad!” I moaned.”Don’t be naughty now! Just do as I told you!” She took me in her arms after telling me this.”Please don’t spank me Rose,” I mumbled, near tears, my head on her shoulder but my eyes taking in Carla’s interested face as she watched Rose’s growing domination over me..”You Rose’s good little girl?” Rose cooed triumphantly, hugging me tightly.”Yes.” I admitted – and started to cry softly. ”There! Let’s get this silly old shirt off. Get some proper clothes on, shall we?” And, somehow, I was now sitting there, gloriously enhanced by false breasts, after pushing my arms through the loops of a jet black, lacy bra – “You did say you liked black better, did you not?” she reminded me – and proceeded to fasten it at the back. Then I was diving into a circle of black satin that transformed itself into a full black slip as it slid and tumbled its way down over my body. Blushed with a type of glorious shame as she praised me for being so good as I voluntarily stood up and divested myself from all the remaining vestiges of my male clothing.. Kept my eyes shyly on the ground as I stepped, one foot at a time into the glossy black matching panties, and pulled them up into place underneath my slip then sat down again, completely under this young girl’s control.”Let’s get your garter belt and stockings on, shall we? Then we can pluck these eyebrows of yours and put your makeup on. Shall we?” she said, and I nodded meekly. A little while later I could see that it was more of a girl in the mirror than a boy. Pouting scarlet lips, sultry dark eyes, with just a hint of blue eyeshadow. Cheeks with a hint of blush and a slight aura of a pleasant floral perfume surrounding me. The rollers had been removed from my hair and I was now crowned by a plethora of curls atop a column of hair, held in place with tortoiseshell combs, a blue velvet bow sitting prettily in place at the front of my hairdo. ”Very good!” Rose said. “Now why don’t you go and let Miss Carla have a look at you. Go on – don’t be shy!”I didn’t have shoes on and felt positively small – no that’s not correct – I WAS dainty and petite as I slowly walked over to face Carla at her desk. She nodded approvingly, then said nothing but made a circling gesture with her finger. I turned slowly, then blushed furiously as she made a soft wolf whistle.”Very nice! Now sit on that chair. Rose, you did a great job. Why don’t you come and sit beside her.” I plucked nervously at the lace hem of my slip. ”Is the test over now Carla?” I asked softly.Rose was sitting close by me. Put an arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick hug.”Honey? Back when you didn’t stop me putting on your apron and cap? The test was pretty well over then.”I took an excited breath and was suddenly conscious of the orbs of my breasts rising inside the lacy satin cups of my bra. ”But . . But . . then? Why all of . of . . this? The clothes and the makeup and perfume? Why did you do all of this?” I then noticed that even though I felt indignant inside, my voice was soft and demure. ”We wanted to make a point Fellows,” Carla said. “I was pretty sure you were a submissive at heart. Felt it would be a good idea to check and see how far you’d go.”"Carla? I don’t get this part.” Rose said. “Okay, she’s nice and meek and docile – but look at the fight she put up at the military academy. I don’t see how you could have figured she was a submissive when all of that shit was going down.” ”It was something his dad – sorry, her dad dropped one night in passing – and we just verified today. he’s – dammit, SHE’S ! – submissive to females and only females. Didn’t you notice how well he did at school when he had lady teachers – and how bad the performance was for men teachers?”"Ah!” Rose said. ”I see.” Carla turned her attention back to me. “I’m not being critical of you, but you not only want female domination, you’ll do just about anything to get it. I should probably do further testing, but right now it’d probably be a waste of time. Mom should be home tonight . .”"I thought she was on a cruise?” I interjected.”Nah. Sorry I had to lie about that, but I figured that if you knew she was close by, you might let it cloud your perspective – stand up for yourself more . . “”But you can’t let her see me like this!” I said desperately.”Of course not!” she answered agreeably. “We’ve got a pretty formal skirt – you’ll love it, it’s satin – and a really nice velvet top.” She thought for a second. Sighed. “I’d really wanted to get you a debutants dress for your coming-out tonight, but figured that it would probably spoil your real coming out . . “”I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said desperately. “Real coming out?” She leaned forward over her desk. “Your days as a boy are over, effective immediately. It’ll take about a month for you to get into Miss Welch’s Academy for young ladies. There’ll you’ll get all the female teachers you’ve ever wanted. I’m sure you’ll graduate with honors. It’s close by, so you can be a day student. At home here? Rose will be training you on how to comport yourself as a young lady – and you’ll continue to give her a hand about the house. . . “”But I don’t want to . . . “”Hush dear! You’re just being a silly argumentative girl now. Which reminds me. You told me that you disliked the Military academy and never wanted to go back. You still feel that way?”"Yes .. kinda,” I said dubiously.”Don’t think they’ll take you back wearing dresses, do you?”I couldn’t help it. A small grin touched my lips. “Don’t think so,” I admitted.”Another thing? You said that you really disliked your name. Fellows does have a sort of manly ring to it, doesn’t it? How does Phylis sound to you?”
The end
