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Archive-name: Changes/gretchen.04

Archive-author: Amelia Allbyte

Archive-title: On Becoming Gretchen - 4

Chapter Four

"It's time you started learning how to present a proper feminine

appearance and acquaint yourself with your duties as my maid. You

can start by taking a bath. I'll accompany you to insure that you

prepare it correctly."

We went into the tub, not the ornate luxurious room adjoining

Miss Irene's bedroom, but into the room adjoining the one I slept

in. Although smaller and not quite as elaborate as the other, it

was nevertheless well furnished in a dainty feminine style. I did

note that, as in the other room also, that there were provisions

for infants here also.

She watched as I ran the water. Under her direction, I liberally

applied bath salts and bubble bath under the flowing water. As

ordered, I removed all of my clothes. As I did so, Miss Irene

watched carefully for any signs of arousal. Fortunately for me,

there was none.

After I finished bathing, and while still sitting in the tub, she

again manacled my hands behind me. "Okay, you just lay there and

soak awhile. Don't masturbate. I'm going to lay out your clothes.

I'll be back in a bit." Taking the clothes I had been wearing,

she left, closing the door behind her.

I don't know how she thought I could masturbate with my hands

chained behind me.

She returned a bit later and removed the cuffs. I dried myself

off with a nice thick fluffy towel. The sweet perfumed odor of

the bath salts still clung to my now dry and tingling body.

Miss Irene then led me back to her bedroom where my clothes were

laid out on the bed. There was a lacy pair of pink panties with a

matching lace bra and slip. Without even being told, I began

putting them on. I still needed a bit of assistance putting on my

bra and inserts. To digress a moment, the inserts were filled

with a heavy gel-like material that had the weight and feel of a

natural breast. When they were inserted into my bra cups, they

seemed to cling to my chest and react to my body movement, even

to the point of having a realistic bounce.

The slip was a new experience for me. Unlike the nightgown, it

fit snugly about my body, making me fully aware of its presence.

Its sleek coolness and the feel of the lacy hem dancing across my

hairless thighs sent tingles up and down my spine. Next came the

panty hose, sheer and silky. I looked at Miss Irene; her face was

expressionless. I knew that I had better not mess this up.

Fortunately, I didn't. I drew the clinging material over my toes

and heels, up my hairless legs, and on up and over my hips. Now

the slip tingled, but the panty hose- ! The taut feeling about my

legs and thighs, the delicate constriction of my hips and crotch

was just indescribable. No wonder girls liked to dress up!

I then slid my feet into my shoes. They fit perfectly. Now, Miss

Irene and I were of nearly the same size, so I presumed the

clothes she was giving me were hers; but I thought it quite a

coincidence that we both wore the same size shoes.

In any event, I slipped them on. They were black open-toed pumps

with about a three-inch spiked heel. "I gave you those mules with

the two-inch heels to get you used to wearing heels. You should

adapt to these quite easily," Miss Irene noted.

I then put on the dress Miss Irene had chosen, a maid's uniform,

really. It was not like those scanty French maid outfits one sees

in sex magazines; rather, it was a no-nonsense work uniform,

although quite feminine and attractive. It had short puffed

sleeves, a belted waist, full-flared petticoated skirt and a

white starched pinafore apron, tied in the back with a large bow.

She then led me over to the dressing table and began applying

makeup. As she applied it, she cautioned me to pay attention. In

the future I would be expected to do this for myself. Completing

the task to her satisfaction, she went over to the closet and

came back with a wig, which, coincidentally, was the exact same

shade as my own hair. She put it on my head and spent a few

moments brushing it out. Finally, she stopped, looked me over and

nodded her head in satisfaction, and asked, "Well, would you like

to see what you look like as my feminized maid?"

Do fish swim? You bet I wanted to see what she had done to me.

I jumped up and made for the full-length mirror, then almost

twisted my ankle and fell. Those three-inch spiked heels with a

base of less than a half an inch were a far cry from the two inch

heels on the pumps. However, I quickly discovered that the basic

technique was the same. Only now my steps had to be shorter and

more precise.

"If you would point your toes straight ahead and kind of walk

like you were on a tightrope, you should rather easily and

quickly develop a more feminine style of walking," Miss Irene

commented to my retreating back.

I wasn't paying to much attention to her words; I was busy

staring at my reflection. From what I saw, I could easily pass as

a girl. Maybe not a beautiful one, but still fairly attractive.

My hair, which I had always thought of as a nondescript blonde,

was another matter when lengthened and brushed out. It fell in

soft waves, almost to my shoulders. There appeared to be tiny

glints of gold shining through it when the light struck it in a

certain way.

My eyes were gray and rather wide set. Miss Irene had accented

them with mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, and painfully arched

and emphasized eyebrows. My lips were colored a full red and were

glossed to a luscious sheen. Finally, my high cheekbones were

shaded and lightly colored to draw attention to me eyes.

All in all, my face was quite attractive with an open kind of

innocent expression. My body didn't look bad either; by

necessity, I had skipped a few meals. I had kept pretty trim in

my waist and my tummy was lean and flat. The inserts in my bra

gave a perfect swelling in the bosom, and the high-heeled pumps

put a perfect taper in my legs and calves.

I pranced and pirouetted, looking at myself from all angles while

Miss Irene smiled indulgently as one does to a child with a new


"You do look quite acceptable, Gretchen. We'll finish up with the

details later this evening."

"Details? What details?"

"Why, paint your fingernails and toenails and pierce your ears,

for some examples. I'm still leaning toward getting you breast

implants until you can grow your own. I guess I'll talk to

Mistress Circe about it."

"Paint my nails? Pierce my ears? Grow my own breasts? Why do you

want to do all that stuff when you are going to let me go in just

a few days after I act as your maid for your party?"

"I told you before, I never promised to let you go right away. I

only told you that if you agreed I wouldn't report you to the

authorities. Now, we'll discuss what happens later at another

time. All I'll say now is that you should prepare yourself to

stay a while."

"Why, you can't do that! You can't keep me here against my will."

"I can do any damned thing I want to with you, and do it for as

long as I please. Don't forget that. No one knows you're here,

and I doubt that anyone really cares."

"Now you have a house to clean, so get with it."

"I'll be damned if I will," I said. "I'm not going to do a damned

thing until you promise to let me go as you said."

Miss Irene just looked at me and sighed. "I just knew it would

eventually come to this. Well, if you need a demonstration, then

you shall have one." She got up and went over to a bureau,

reached into one of the drawers, and returned, carrying the quirt

in her hand.

She approached me, and I began backing away but tripped, not

being used to the high-heeled shoes. She reached down, grabbed my

by my wrist and forced me to my feet. With no apparent effort,

she twisted my arm way up behind my back, forcing to me to bend

over helplessly.

She marched me over to the bed, sat down, and forced me to lay

across her lap. Laying the quirt down on the bed beside her, she

raised my dress and slip. She then pulled down my panties and

hose, leaving my bottom exposed to the world.

Picking up the quirt, she began whipping me. I squirmed, I

struggled, all to no avail. Meanwhile, she was vigorously

applying the braided quirt to my bare bottom. I began swearing,

but that didn't help, so I began pleading, almost crying. The

pain was really becoming quite severe. It had no effect on my

tormentor. She kept laying down the quirt where she felt it would

do the most good.

Finally, exhausted, I gave up the struggle and lay whimpering and

quiescent across her lap as she continued with the whipping. Once

I gave up the struggle, she ceased. "Do we have an understanding

that you are my feminized maid and will do as I say? I can

continue this all day. It doesn't hurt me a bit."

"You win," I moaned. "I'll do anything you say, just let me up."

She gave me one last vicious whack and then released me. "Now

pull up your panties and straighten your dress!"

Gently and as delicately as I could, I pulled my panties and hose

up over my tender bottom and pulled down my slip, fluffing out my

skirt so that it again hung neatly.

She arose from sitting on the bed and stood facing me. "Now,

curtsy for me and say that you are sorry for questioning my

authority, and that you will obey me in the future."

All thoughts of rebellion were erased by the pain in my bottom.

My only thought was to appease this iron hard female who looked

so lovely, innocent, and delicate. I made an attempt at a curtsy

and said, "I'm sorry I questioned your authority, Miss Irene. I

will obey all of your orders in the future."

"Just don't forget this mild lesson. I can do this anytime I

wish, and if I think it necessary, I have a room where I can hang

you from the ceiling and lash you with a real whip until you get

the message that I am your superior."

I inwardly shuddered. After this last fiasco, I knew she could

and would do it if she thought it was necessary or if she just

had the notion to discipline me severely.



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