By Bea I was sweeping out the porch when Brenda pulled up in her gleaming, late model, Bentley. She cut off the engine, then exited the car elegantly, both legs together, the hem of her skirt riding just enough above the knee to show an interesting length thigh, perfectly rounded knees, then exquisite nylon-shod legs culminating in hand tooled court shoes. She was wearing a light gray, tailored, skirt suit with a red silk ‘T’ showing under the jacket. Wore kid gloves and a small cloche-style hat with a trace of veil. Was carrying a small clutch handbag. “James! How wonderful to see you again! Pamela keeping you busy, I see?” she said, coming over to me and giving me an air kiss – on both cheeks – without waiting for my answer. Then Pamela came out from the house. She had changed into a floral summer dress and white sandals. “Brenda! What took you so long! I’ve been waiting and waiting!” She practically flung herself into Brenda’s arms and they kissed each other on the lips for quite a long time. A passionate, smoldering, kiss that had no resemblance to the ladylike greeting that had been bestowed on me. They finally split and Pamela pirouetted, her dress belling around her. “Like my new dress? Bought it especially for you!”“Lovely! But you’re not wearing a bra?”Pamela blushed a little. “Well? Last time you said that my bra just got in the way, remember?”“Now that you mention it? Yes. But c’mere and let me see!” Pamela laughed and minced over seductively. Brenda grinned and openly fondled my wife’s breasts. “Mmm!” she said delightedly. “Must say I approve!”“Oh Brenda! You’re so naughty!” Pamela giggled. “But sweetie? I know it’s private here, but somebody might see!”“Who’s to see?” Brenda said, looking directly through me. Put her left arm around Pamela’s shoulders and still fondling her breasts with her right, spoke to me. “James? Put my car in the garage, would you please? I don’t know the combination to open the door.” Pamela pursed her lips. “Brenda? Would you mind putting it away yourself? He’s become so inept at everything! I just don’t want him doing anything that requires the slightest mechanical aptitude.” She frowned at me. “Don’t stand there gawking like a ninny! Go and open the garage door for Brenda! After she’s parked the car, get her suitcase and get it unpacked.”“Which room dear?” I asked. She stared at me, a small smile playing about her mouth, but hints of a challenge in her eyes – as if daring me to react.. “My bedroom! She and I have a lot to talk about!”I flushed. “Where shall I put my stuff darling?”“The adjoining spare room, darling,” she said, with just a trace of sarcasm. She turned to Brenda. “Just in case we need something during the night – darling?” There was no sarcasm in her voice now.“Good idea, sweetie!” Brenda said, kissing her on the lips. After Brenda parked the car, I got her luggage out and took it upstairs to Pamela and my bedroom – though it was obvious from what she’d said that I’d been ousted. They were standing in the center of the room, arms entwined around each other, kissing. I coughed discretely and they broke their clinch. They went and sat at the bottom of the bed, witching me as I started to unpack Brenda’s suitcase, their eyes amused.“He’s quite housebroken?” Brenda asked.“Oh yes,” Pamela said assuredly. “Watch. James?”“Yes Pamela?” I replied.“Are your nails nice and smooth, the way I like them? I don’t want you snagging Brenda’s lingerie with them.”“Yes dear.” I said.“Come and let Brenda see!” she said. I presented my hands for her inspection, palms down. “He does keep them well,” Brenda said with a touch of surprise in her voice.“He snagged a nice slip of mine once when he was ironing it.” Pamela said. “I just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She smiled at me. “Alright treasure. Go back and finish your unpacking. When that’s done? I think Brenda would like to have a bath and freshen up after her drive. You can run a bath for her.” I was ultra careful with Brenda’s lingerie shaking it out from the creases that had been formed in the suitcase then refolding it neatly and putting it away. I hung her dresses, skirts, and blouses up in the closet, making sure they had plenty of air circulating to allow them to get rid of any creases. Took her cosmetics then put them onto our dressing table or in the bathroom. Started running her bath.“James?” I heard Pamela’s voice.“Yes?” I replied.“Come here and help Brenda get undressed please.” When I went back into the bedroom, Brenda was standing waiting for me in the center of the floor. Smiled complacently at me as I approached her. “Oh yes, Pamela. I think you’ve broken James in very well,” she said, over her shoulder.“Maybe,” Pamela replied. “But I haven’t thought of using him like a maid, as you’re suggesting.”“You have him sweeping the porch. Doing your ironing? Isn’t that what Molly should be doing? And let’s face it, SHE is the maid around here, is she not?”“Oh, Molly was his mother’s personal maid. But she was a lot more active . .”“And I lot slimmer!” I interjected with a laugh.Brenda gave me a cold fish-eyed stare. “James? I don’t care for effete little men that make deriding comments about women – ANY women! If I ever hear you make another? I will chastise you severely!”Pamela laughed. “And James? You don’t want Brenda chastising you at all – trust me!” She turned her attention back to Brenda. “But as I was saying? Molly was a lot more active then – and a lot less crotchety. I don’t think she’d consider herself a lady’s maid any more.” “I see. But you don’t mind assisting me in that way. Do you James?” Brenda asked, her eyes cool on mine.“No Brenda, I don’t mind,” I said, stretching up a little to get the pins out of her hat, then carefully removing it, not wanting to muss her hair. She nodded approvingly. I was a little nervous loosening the button on her jacket, but she stood perfectly still as I did so, then removed her jacket from the back. Laid it on the bed beside where Pamela sat, watching , her eyes wet and excited as I undressed her lady friend. I undid the small button fastener for the blouse at the back of her neck. Gently, somewhat unsure of myself, removed her “T” top by lifting it up over the arms she raised to help me. Could not help but be aware of the small, though firm, breasts that stood out proudly under the top of her slip and bra. Then, I undid the button at the side of her skirt and unzipped the small fastener there. The straight skirt fell, almost not needing my assistance and she stepped out of it one foot at a time. I fastened it again, then laid it on the bed beside her jacket. She was now staring at me imperiously and I wasn’t sure how to proceed until she pointed downwards. Kneeling in a classic subservient position, I removed one shoe, then the next. She then twitched the hem of her slip up and, very nervously, I lifted the hem of her slip and started undoing the suspender clips that held her stockings up, first the right leg, then the left. Then gently and delicately worked both stockings down her smooth legs, and off her feet. She stepped out of them gracefully. “James?” I heard Pamela say as I carefully unraveled the stockings and readied them for washing. I turned to see her also standing in the middle of the floor. “Think I’ll have a bath too. Do me as well!” she commanded, kicking off her shoes as she spoke. Both women stood about one foot apart, touching each other in highly erotic places as I gradually undressed them, both ignoring me as I gradually stripped them both until the two lithe bodies were completely nude.“The bath should be ready by now, is it not?” Pamela asked.“Yes, I think so. Let me check.” I replied.“He didn’t call you dear, or darling,” I heard Brenda comment as I went into the bathroom to turn off the bathwater and pour in Pamela’s favorite bubble bath powder.. “Though, under the circumstances, I can see why.”“What circumstances would that be, darling?” I saw Pamela stroking Brenda’s breasts tenderly as I returned to announce that the bath was ready.“I think he’s jealous,” Brenda said.“Oh , don’t be silly!” Pamela giggled. “He gave up being jealous of me a long time ago. Didn’t you James?” Then before I could answer, she added. “Why don’t you collect up our undies and give them a quick rinse in the bathroom sink? You can give them a touch up with an iron later.” The two women sauntered into the bathroom and squealing a little eased themselves into the hot water. As I rinsed out their undies in the sink there, I suppose that they thought that the layer of white suds on top of the bath water hid what their hands were up to – but it didn’t. Finally, after I finished washing their flimsies, I rinsed them, then gently squeezed them dry. I was just about to take them down to hang them out to dry when Brenda spoke to me.“James? Earlier on, I said I thought you were jealous and Pamela here thought I meant that you were upset because of me courting her. But that wasn’t what I meant at all. I meant that you were jealous of her - wanting me to pay attention to you. Was I correct?”“But you’re the man in our relationship darling, and . .” Pamela started.“Hush sweetie. Let James answer if you don’t mind,” Brenda said. “I . .I . . don’t know what you mean, Brenda,” I stammered a little.She snorted. “You know perfectly well what I mean. Just think. If a little sweetie like Pamela here can dominate you – turn you into some sort of sissified excuse for a male? Just think what an aggressive, dominant, type like me could have you do. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”“No Brenda. To be quite honest, it doesn’t.” I said, pleased with the calmness in my voice – even though my knees were actually knocking. “You’re prevaricating sweetie. Let me demonstrate what I mean. Go and get a hold of Molly. Ask her if she’s got any old dress uniforms that would fit you. If she does, ask her if you can borrow the prettiest one. Bring it back up here with you.” She saw the dumbfounded look on my face. “Off with you now! Don’t be making me look bad in front of Pamela.” “You’re going to dress him up as a maid?” Pamela giggled.“Not just dress him up. Make him a maid – for the length of my visit.”“That’s not very fair!” Pamela said petulantly. “After all, he’s MY husband. Why should he be your maid?” Brenda sighed and patted Pamela on the head with a soapy hand. “Darling? I’m going to make him into a lady’s maid. Now, which one of us two is the lady, huh?”“Me?” Pamela simpered.“Exactly! So, if you’re going to get the long term benefits out of having him for your very own maid, shouldn’t I get the fun of training him?”“Training him, like you trained me?” Pamela said, putting her fist to her mouth, her eyes theatrically wide.“Even more so, my pet,” Brenda said. “After all. I’ll have to teach him to be my girl – as well as oversee his training as a maid, won’t I?”“Oooh! Do I get to watch?” Pamela giggled.Brenda laughed. “What are you? Some kind of voyeur?”“Ooooh!” Pamela breathed excitedly. “YES! I can’t wait! When are you going to start?” Brenda brushed her hair back a little and smiled up at me. “But we’ve already started, haven’t we sweetie? But first, I think we’ll have to pick a proper name for you, don’t you agree? Can’t have a ladies maid called James now, can we?”“Aw Brenda. Don’t you think this joke has gone far enough?” And even I could hear the mixture of fear and strain in my voice.“Do you know how I first convinced your wife that I wanted her to be my girl?” she asked.“Not really,” I said.“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. I spanked her. Put her over my knees and gave her a good old fashioned spanking!” She looked fondly at Pamela. “Little minx fought like a wildcat too, didn’t you sweetie?”“Yes – but you were SO dominating!” Pamela sighed happily. “God, did you hurt me. Couldn’t sit down for a week!”Brenda looked back up at me. “Yes. She was naughty – so I had to spank her hard. I’m going to spank you as well, but you’re not going to be a naughty girl that needs a hard spanking, are you? Just a few little love taps – but you’ll have to make up your mind what it’s going to be. Now? What name should we start calling you? Tiffany? Melissa?” She turned to Pamela. “Sissies all like frilly sort of names. Know what I mean?” Then she smiled up at me. “How’s about Priscilla? That pretty enough for you?”“To hell with letting him pick!” Pamela giggled. “I want her to be Tiffany!” Brenda shrugged. “See Tiffany? If you’d hurried, you could have picked a name that you liked. Now be a good girl and run along and get a dress from Molly. No! Now that I think of it? get two or three, you’ll need something to change into. Get some aprons and caps too –now SCOOT! If you’re not back here in fifteen minutes – tops? I’m going to come looking for you!”Both women burst out laughing as I hurriedly obeyed by almost running out of that bathroom. I tried to rationalize what I was doing. Naturally, I thought of running away – but where would I go without money or credit cards (Pamela had taken my wallet away and god knows where she’d put it). I could also stand up for myself and refuse to take any part in this nonsense. But just suppose Brenda wasn’t kidding? Pamela and I had scuffled once when she’d first started getting bossy and my face still burned at how easily she’d bested me. And if Brenda could overpower her? What chance would I have? I couldn’t help but notice that a few minutes had elapsed when I found Molly polishing the silver in the dining room. Took a deep breath and tried to compose myself, praying that I could dream up some explanation that would make sense. “Molly?” I said, hating the tentative tone in my voice.She turned around and curtsied. “Yes Master James?” (She’d never stopped calling me that although Pamela giggled openly when she’d hear me addressed in that manner).“Eh Ha Ha! I have a question that may sound a little strange to you.”“Yes sir?“I mean no offense Molly. But when you worked for mummy? You used to wear some very pretty uniforms – if I remember correctly?” She smiled fondly. “Oh yes sir. You mother was a stickler for having a lady’s maid – look like a lady’s maid. If you know what I mean?”“Oh yes! I most certainly do!” Then I paused, for just a second too long.“The uniforms, sir?” she prompted me.“Do you still have them?” I asked, dry mouthed.“Oh yes sir. But I’m afraid ..?” She held her hands out towards me. “I don’t think I could get into them now. As a matter of fact?” She drew close to me conspiratorially. “I’ve always dreamed that one day? You and the mistress might see fit to hiring a young girl – that I could train – in the old ways? You know? Maybe have her wear them? I’m still handy with a sewing machine and could fit them to her – if necessary. They’re still in lovely shape! Don’t make them like that any more!” The poor old dear. Still yearning for days gone bye, I thought. Then saw that I could run out of time, if I didn’t get a move on. Had to break the ice.“You speak as if you have more than one?” I asked.“Oh lord, yes sir. Have at least four or five. Lovely things! Wouldn’t ever throw things like that away!”“Molly? Let me ask you. Do you think that I . . possibly . . I mean . . I . . could get into them?” She looked at me, astonished. “Get into my old uniforms? Well sir? I don’t know why you’re asking such a thing – but I was never what you’d call a sprightly young thing – buxom would be more like it.” She giggled. “You could get into them alright I dare say – but they might be a wee bit too big for you if anything!” She giggled some more. “Though I could never guess why you’d be askin’ such a thing! I remember once, when your drear mother was . .” I knew I didn’t have the time to let her get started reminiscing about dear old mummy – HAD to break in. “Milly dear? I really don’t have the time to explain why – but could I borrow a couple of your old dresses for a little while?”“Dresses? Or do you mean uniforms?” she asked suspiciously.“Uniforms Molly. Your old uniforms.”“What for? If I may be so bold?” she asked. “The mistress have something in mind for them?” I looked at the clock. Four minutes left. “Ha Ha Molly! It’s a bet sort of thing. I lost – and have to wear one.”“So? Why do you need a couple of them, huh?” Why not just one?” She was getting a little belligerent. “Ha Ha. Thought it’d be a good idea to let Pamela choose which one I ‘m to wear.. You know?” I said, in as a placating manner as possible.She stared at me, with a flicker of something I couldn’t describe momentarily showing in her eyes. “Mistress is going to choose which dress you’re going to wear?” She didn’t wait for an answer, Turned on her heel “Come along then,” she said in a perfunctory manner. “Can’t be keeping mistress waiting, can we?”“No Molly. As a matter of fact? I promised I’d hurry.” I replied meekly, trailing behind her. In her room, she opened up her closet and started taking plastic protective jackets off some dress uniforms. Then she took out the first – a dark blue velvet with lace collar and matching cuffs at the half sleeves. “Let’s see now!” she said. “Hold this up against yourself. Give me an idea.”Then she gave out a little snigger. “No need to blush, sir. Just hold it up at the neck and the waist. Oh yes! Might be a wee bit big, but that won’t be a concern, will it?”“No Molly. Don’t think so.”“Well then! No sense in chattering here like a couple of serving girls! This taffeta will look lovely on. Trust me!” Humiliated beyond measure, I finally stood with three uniforms draped over my arms. One velvet, one dark green taffeta, and one gray silk.“Well that should do it. Anything else – sir?” an edge of contempt in her voice now.“I was just thinking?” I asked weakly.“Yes?”“Won’t I be needing an apron or two?” Her mouth formed a circle of amused surprise. “Oh sir! How stupid of me! How would anyone take you for a maid without a pretty apron – some caps too?” Practically running I got to my – sorry – Pamela’s bedroom door, just as Brenda, now wearing a flimsy robe over her lingerie, opened it from the other side. She stood aside and spoke over her shoulder… “Here’s Tiffany, Pamela. Has some pretty dresses with her.” Then she spoke to me. “Just as well you got here when you did. I was just coming to look for you.”“I’m sorry Brenda. I hurried as fast as I could.” I said humbly.“Let’s not get too familiar, huh?” she said, poking me slightly with her forefinger. “I’m Master Brenda, or sir, when you answer me. Your wife is to be addressed as Mistress or ma’am. And once you get into your dresses? Curtseys will be in order. Got it?”“Yes sir,” I said softly. Pamela came wafting in from the bathroom. Saw me and shook her head. “You know? I half thought you might make a run for it – but Brenda knows what a pansy will do I guess and said you’d do as you were told.” She shook her head some more. “Stupid me! I keep remembering that I once thought of you as a man. Let me look out some lingerie for you – and then you can get your dress on.” “Might be an idea to get him shaved?” Brenda suggested.Pamela shrugged. “No need. I have him waxed pretty frequently. He never had much body hair to begin with – but I didn’t like it . .”“So now he’s nice and smooth?” Brenda interrupted and laughed. “Will your lingerie fit him Pamela?”“Don’t see why not. But one thing? I think I’d like to see him laced into a corset. Give him a little more shape.” The two women had a hilarious time dressing me, constantly deriding me for being such a wuss and a sissy as they gradually enclosed me in panties, bra- practically falling over themselves with mirth as they took turns at stuffing the bra cups fuller and fuller, taking a great deal; of sadistic enjoyment when I finally started crying.“Look at my husband – the little pansy,” Pamela taunted. “That’s cruel! You’re hurting poor little Tiffany’s feelings! “ Brenda said, falsely sympathetic then patted my backside and said. “Come on and get the rest of your nice lingerie on! You’ll feel SO much better when you’re properly dressed. Now let’s get that corset on you!” She was right. Okay, what male could ever feel ‘better’ standing in front of two tormenting women, fully dressed in matching lingerie? Especially after being trussed in a corset, then laced in so tightly that he could hardly breathe. But the lingerie did hide my nakedness – and my erection – another cause for mirth in the two of them. “He DOES keep on thinking he’s masculine!” Pamela laughed scornfully.“No dear. That’s not it at all,” Brenda said seriously. “When a man gets an erection, it’s a sign that he’s liking what’s going on in his head – and our little sissy here is enjoying the hell out of being dressed up in women’s clothes and being made a mockery of. Isn’t that true, dear Tiffany?” she asked me. She waited for me to answer, then smiled. “Well Tiffany? Time for your first spanking – and a little taste of what’s coming at you. Why don’t you come over here to this chair with me and go over my knees, huh?” She spoke to Pamela. “Got a condom handy?”“Yes. In this bedside table here. But do you think he’s gonna come?” Pamela said, bringing out a condom and giving it to Brenda.“Oh, most assuredly!” Brenda said lifting the hem of my slip up and pulling my panties down, then fitting the condom on me. Then she re-arranged my clothing and gently tugged me until I was laying prone over her knees. Then, to my surprise, she only gave me some light slaps on my backside.“Hey!” Pamela squealed indignantly as she saw this. “No fair! You spanked ME a damn side harder!”“Yes. But Tiffany has been a good little girl – and she’d enjoy getting spanked harder too much. Isn’t that so Tiffany?” Brenda asked, bending over. Again, she didn’t wait for an answer. Spoke to Pamela. “See? Sissies are VERY self-centered. They always want sex relief – and it’s always ME1 ME! ME! That’s why I’m going to impress on our little sissy friend here that he’s got to think of pleasing his mistresses first!” She stopped patting me. Lifted the hem of my slip up again. “Get me some of the lubricating gel you use, would you darling?” she asked Pamela. As my wife went to do as requested, Brenda slowly pulled my panties down to bare my backside. “You know Tiffany? I often wonder. Why is it that sissies always have the cutest, softest, roundest asses?” She felt the underside of my bicep. “And the softest, weakest, whitest arms? Most of them have curly eyelashes too. Just not fair to real girls, is it?” Then she added “Thanks dear,” as Pamela returned with the gel. Without ceremony, she took some gel onto her fingers and seconds later, was working it up inside my back passage. “Ooooh! Like that Tiffany?” she giggled as I squirmed helplessly on her lap. Then Pamela got down on her knees and pulled my hair up until I was looking into her contemptuous eyes. “ANSWER Brenda you damned pantywaist! Like that nice squishy feeling up your ass, do you?”“Please ladies? Please stop?” I mewled.“Well? Never mind. Maybe she’ll like this better,” Brenda said – and now she had two rigid fingers entering, then leaving, then entering me. In and out, piston like, inexorably.“Open you eyes Tiffany! I want to see them!” Pamela commanded, and I obeyed. “I think she’s cumming Brenda!” she said, astonished a minute or so later. “Is that possible?”“Highly likely is more like it,” Brenda told her.“But I thought you weren’t going to give him sexual relief?”“Well, this is different. Ah! Is that him cumming now?”Pamela put her hand down onto the condom tip. “Yes! He is. But he’s not jerking up and down the way he normally does.”“Yeah. This way? They don’t get the fun out of it that they normally do. On top of that? I’ve heard that their testosterone level drops if you do it this way regularly. Their voices soften – and they can actually develop breasts.” She leaned over again. “See what you’ve got to look forward to, sissy?” “OOOOH! Can I have a shot?” Pamela asked excitedly. “Now that Tiffany’s all lubricated and all?”“She may not have any juice left, but other than that, I don’t see why not. Tiffany? Whey don’t you go over your mistress’s knees?” Brenda replied. It took Pamela longer but squirming and pleading – and crying with shame and humiliation as my satin-clad body slithered all over Pamela’s negligee – I finally came, if that’s what it could be called – into the condom again. “That’s a good girl Tiffany. Now why don’t you go and clean up – and then you can come back and put on your pretty taffeta dress, huh? After that? Why, we’ll make you all up. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”” After I’d cleaned my face and groin, they dressed me in the green taffeta – after they’d had me step into a multi-layered petticoat that filled the full skirt out. Then they made me up – garishly. Bright red lips. Crimson cheeks. Green eye shadow. Thick mascara on my eyelashes. Eyebrows plucked down to fine arcs. Then a platinum wig. Then oohing and aahing, they put a full lace apron on me – and a flimsy matching chiffon headdress – a silly little thing. Pamela had found a pair of very high heeled, strappy black shoes that were just a little too tight on her – but fitted me perfectly. Not being used to them I couldn’t walk too well in them – another source of amusement to the two women. Then, despite my inability to walk, they had me go from one end of the room to another many times – stop in front of them and curtsey. Had to learn to respond to “Tiffany!” with a shy smile and a curtsey. The heels bothered me of course, and the tightness of the corset around my waist, pinching me in and making me breathless? These things go without saying – but the feel of the wig and the feminine little cap flouncing around on top of my head distracted me more than just about anything else. Then Brenda smiled, none too nicely, but spoke to me in a pleasantly conversational tone. “But Tiffany? I hope you realize that my time here is very restricted – and if I’ve to prepare you for being Pamela’s maid? I’ll have to expedite matters somewhat. I DO hope you’ll understand?” Having no earthly idea of what she was talking about, my initial inclination was to stand quietly but, having learned that Brenda did NOT care to be ignored, I put on a bright expression – and nodded. She patted me gently on the cheek and gave me a maternal smile. “That’s a good little girl, Tiffany! Brenda’s very proud of you – and so is your mistress Pamela. Aren’t you, Pamela?”“Oh yes!” Pamela sneered. “Why am I getting the feeling that it shouldn’t have been ME that wore the white dress on my wedding day?” Brenda patted me on the cheek again. “Oh, don’t mind her, Tiffany! She’s just an old bully, that’s all! But? She’s probably just impatient. Wants to see me starting in on your humiliation program – and we don’t want to keep her waiting, do we?” Standing there in my maid’s uniform, frilled petticoats and all, made up to the nines – cinched in at the waist by a corset that made it difficult to breathe, and barely maintaining balance in towering high heels, I wondered what she meant by starting in on humiliating me. What did she think they’d been doing to me for the last hour? But not being altogether stupid, I simply did my best at maintaining my bright expression and batted my mascara’d eyelashes as prettily as I could.“So, are you ready then, Tiffany?” she cooed.Nervously, I licked my lips. “I guess so, sir,” I said softly and curtseyed. “Okay Tiffany. Here’s what I want you to do. Go over to the large easy chair there and kneel on it – but across the chair. Not on it. Understand?”“Yes sir,” I said, curtseying again and walked over to the chair. As I started to prepare myself to climb up, she said, “Tiffany. Keep your skirts and petticoats out from under your knees now. Don’t want them getting all crushed, do we?”“No sir,” I answered, belling my skirts and petticoats out from my legs, then clambering up until I was kneeling on the chair. “This all right sir?” I asked.“Oh yes. Just about perfect. Now, if I may?” she added, coming over to me. With that, she pulled my skirts and petticoats until my backside was bared, then she draped all of the layers around my head, with the hems now rustling up against my hands. “Lift this hand a little she said, tugging on my right hand. “That’s good. Now just hold your skirts there, will you please? Then she artfully draped the materials around my face and had me use my left hand to hold that side of my skirts. “How pretty!” she said, and let out a small giggle. “Almost like a mantilla! Very pretty!” She leaned over and smiled directly into my eyes. Caressed my backside, gently fingering my garter straps. “Not too cold for you, Tiffany? Quite comfortable?” I shivered. Not from any coolness, strictly from fear. She kissed my trembling lips. “Be a brave girl now Tiffany. Want to see a magic trick?”Like a rabbit in front of a snake I could only tremble. Speechless.“Well, guess what? Me and your mistress Pamela are going to show you some magic – but it’ll take a minute or two. Think you can restrain your impatience?”She stared at me demandingly until I nodded. Gave me a brilliant smile, then disappeared. Behind me, out of sight, I heard some giggles coming from Pamela and a few snorts of laughter from Brenda. Next, a minute or two of silence. Then Brenda was speaking again off to one side, but still outside my range of vision.“Tiffany darling? May I ask you a few questions first – before I show you the magic trick?”“Yes sir,” I quavered.She tittered. “You call me sir – but that’s just an honorary title is it not? What is my real gender?”I paused, scared to tell the truth. “A female – sir?”“Very good! And your mistress, Pamela? Is she a female also?”“Oh yes sir!”“Are you sure? Positive?”“Yes sir. I think so sir?” I felt movement on either side of my chair and suddenly both women were standing in front of me. But bulging out from both of their groins were dildos! “Well? I’m very glad you answered that way dear, because, here’s the magic trick. We’ve turned ourselves into MEN – have we not?”“Yes sir. I believe that IS the case,” I whispered.“So, if we are men? What are these?” she asked – and she and Pamela put their hands on the dildos and started waving them in front of me, sniggering and chortling.“Dildos, sir?” She slapped me on the side of the head, but gently. “NO! You silly girl! Wouldn’t you say that these are our cocks?”“Oh yes sir. I’m sorry.”“Are they not handsome cocks?”“Oh, yes sir! Very handsome.” Suddenly, her hand was up under my petticoats at the front, fondling my genitals. “And Tiffany? What is this? If I may be so bold?”“My . my . cock, sir?”“Silly girl! A cock is like what I have – and what Pamela has. Nice and big and hard. This is tiny, and although I think it’s trying to get hard? It’s just not enough, is it? Plus – with you wearing a dress and all and it being all soft? You sure it’s not a pussy?”“No sir. I’m not sure.”“So? You’re probably nothing but a nice soft girl then?”“Yes sir.” She was at my back now, but still speaking. “I’ve heard that girls just love big hard cocks inside them – at both ends? Is this true, Tiffany?” She was slowly working my panties down as she spoke. “Oh please sir. Please, I don’t want this.” I mewled as her fingers were once again, working lubricant up inside me.“Tiffany! You’re being very negative about this and I really want it to be a positive experience for you. So know what I think?”“No sir.”“I think that when someone says negative things – or makes negative noises – it’s self defeating. Whereas if one makes positive noises – little gasps of happy surprise? Moans of enjoyment? It helps convince the brain that one is having a good time. Understand?”“I think so sir,” I said helplessly. Then gasped in fear as I found Pamela standing directly in front of me, the dildo inches from my lips. “Kiss my cock, sweetie!” she commanded. Tentatively, I pursed my lips and put them against the tip.“That will never do, Tiffany! Happy noises now! And why don’t you lick it for me, please,” she said. “The underside!”I let out a moan of abject fear as strong hands at my rear pulled my knees further apart, then encircled my waist and the tip of Brenda’s dildo was poking me in the rear as my tongue started stroking the underside of Pamela’s dildo.“Y’know Brenda? Never imagined myself liking this,” Pamela giggled taking a hold of both of my ears and pulling my mouth right onto her dildo. “But it does give one a sense of domination, doesn’t it? I can see myself learning to enjoy it.” She cuffed me quite forcibly on the side of the head. “Happy noises Tiffany! Will you never learn?” Seconds later, I had been penetrated at both ends and they were humping me in synchronized moves such that as Pamela pushed in, Brenda was pulling out. And, with me making happy little gurgles and squealing delightedly, both women settled down to a little chat about inconsequential things as they banged away at me.Then. “Is that you, Molly?” Brenda called out in response to a soft knock at the door. “Come in, why don’t you?” Incapable of seeing practically nothing but Pamela’s abdomen, I still shuddered in shame with what Molly must be seeing as I heard the door open, then close. “Sit down over there Molly. We won’t be much longer,” Brenda said conversationally. A few seconds elapsed as Molly must have found a chair and settled into it. But then Brenda was speaking again. “As you can probably tell, Molly? There’s a new regime here. I’m the master of the house. Pamela remains as the mistress. Little Tiffany here? She’s Pamela’s personal maid. Thanks for letting her use your nice dresses by the way. She looks nice in them. Only thing?”“Yes ma’am? Molly said.“Well, frankly Molly. I prefer ‘sir’ – if you don’t mind. Do you mind?”“Oh no sir!”“Good! But as I was saying? The dresses look nice, but are a little big for Tiffany. Think you could alter them to fit?”“Oh yes sir. But may I ask. Is he – Tiffany, I mean – going to be mistresses maid permanently.”“Well, only as needed. Which brings up another point. Think you have some plainer work uniforms for her? I mean you can’t just have her flouncing about all the time – when there’s beds to be made, laundry to do – that kind of thing.”“Oh no sir!” Molly said, a bit of happiness in her voice. “I can always use a hand!” “Good! But hold on a little, would you please dear? We’ll just be a sec.”“No problem sir.” Brenda must have passed some signal to Pamela because the beat of their pumping increased – then at precisely the same second, something gushed into my mouth, and up into my anus! “Blecchhh!” I mumbled, but not very loudly because Pamela’s cock was fully in my mouth.“Swallow darling! There’s a girl!” she said, pinching my nostrils shut, and making me do just that. Then both women withdrew and I felt myself deflate. I looked down at the carpet as I heard noises indicating that the women were stripping themselves of the dildos.“All right Tiffany. You did very well. Now pull your panties into place and get up on your feet.” Red faced and embarrassed I worked my way back off the chair, then felt up underneath my petticoats and adjusted my panties, all the time conscious of Molly’s gaze on me, although I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Now Molly?” Brenda said from the chair she was now lounging in. “I see it as being your job to train young Tiffany here. Train her how to be an upstairs maid when Pamela needs her – and a downstairs maid when you need her. Train her into being a pretty, feminine, little thing. Think you could do that?”“As long as you and the mistress want that? I don’t see why not, sir.”“Think you could discipline her if necessary?”“In what way, sir?”“Any way you see fit.”“Don’t see a problem with that, sir.” There was a slight pause. “That’s good Molly. But I’m concerned that a residue of respect could remain inside you. I mean, you’ve been considering Tiffany here as a man for so long now?”“A man, sir?” Scorn very evident in her voice. “I don’t think there’s much chance of me thinking that!”“Think you could spank her?” Pamela asked with a slight giggle in her voice.“Would you like a demonstration ma’am”“Absolutely!” “GIRL!” Molly’s voice spoke out confidently and I knew who she was talking to. Raised my eyes. “Curtsey when I speak to you! And get yourself over here!” She had widened her lap and was pointing to it. Hurriedly, I curtsied “Yes Miss Molly,” I squeaked then, as I started towards her, knew that one more humiliation was coming my way – my panties were sopping wet from whatever it was that Brenda had pumped into me. The end geovisit();
