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"She'll be home soon," I think to myself. I finish clipping my stockings to my garters, check the seams, and step into my heels before walking down to the kitchen to serve dinner. I don't like to cook in my uniform, but I must always wear a satin French Maid's uniform on while in Her presence, lest I bear the brunt of her anger.
I must explain here...She is my beautiful wife, Erin, and I am her husband Peter. Only now, I am Maid Lucy, and Erin, when she comes in, is to be called Mistress. A long time ago, before we were married, Erin found me alone in our apartment - only this day I was dressed in her bra, panties, garters, stockings, and heels, with her 10" dildo buried in my ass. Needless to say Erin was not pleased, but she did not react with malice or hatred. Quite the contrary, she asked - no, ordered - me to come to the living room so we could talk. I started to pull the rubber cock out of my ass when she said loudly "I said EXACTLY as you are!"
When I got to the living room Erin was seated on the couch, legs crossed, sipping a drink. I stood in front of her, not wanting to sit down with the dildo in my ass, afraid to let out a moan and embarrass myself further - as if being found by your fiancée in her lingerie with her dildo in your ass wasn't embarrassing enough.
"There are going to be some changes around here, Peter. Since my job can support us both, you are going to quit your job and become my full time maid."
My look must have shown my shock.
"Don't worry, missy," she said rather calmly, "I am not going to tell the world, yet. But from this point forward I will own you, and you will do nothing I do not tell you to do. Understand?"
"Yeah," I grumbled.
I suddenly see Erin get up and kick her leg out, right into my groin.
"From here forward you will address me as Mistress Erin, or Mistress. Since you have soiled those pieces of lingerie, they are now yours." Erin sits back down. "Now then, since you obviously enjoy being a woman, you will assume that role in our relationship. You will no longer go out drinking with your friends, nor will you watch sports unless they are womanly sports like figure skating. You will be my woman."
"Yes, Mistress Erin."
"Excellent! You will go upstairs and put on the French Maid uniform you bought me for Halloween. I am sure you know how to walk in high heels, so please choose a pair from my collection - nothing less than 4" heels. Fix up your makeup to that of a proper maid and come back down here...you have 20 minutes."
"Yes, Mistress." And with that, I hurry upstairs, weighing my options. I can run outside now and get in my car, but the idea of some old lady calling the cops on me in my current dress would surely get me beaten to a pulp. Or, I can attempt to reason with Erin, maybe make her understand that this was nothing more than a one time deal (an out-and-out lie) and that it would never happen again (probably a lie also). While thinking about this, I find the uniform she's talking about...I remember it because I pretty much made her dress in it for last Halloween. She got so sick from the cold weather and the lack of covering on her legs, I thought she would leave me. I step into the dress, zip it up, and fluff out all of the attached petticoating. 'Now I know why she got sick,' I think to myself, and I can see in the mirror that the skirt of the dress doesn't even cover up my panties.
I find the pair of heels I know will fit me best - Erin's black patent 4" heels with the ankle strap. They never fit her...I bought them as a gift I thought she'd love, but alas I messed up the size. Right now I'm relieved I got the size wrong...Lord only knows what I'll have to do in these shoes.
I fix up my makeup, putting on a fresh coat of lipstick and cleaning up my overall look. Satisfied, I take a deep breath and walk down the stairs back to the living room. There I see Erin, sitting back down on the couch, skirt, blouse and jacket set aside. She has a refilled glass, and she sips her drink as I walk toward her.
"Stop, Maid." I halt where I am, my head almost immediately facing the floor. "Your new name is Lucy, and I expect you to come to me whenever called."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Now then, I have called a co-worker of mine to come over to our apartment. He is going to properly train you in womanhood. You may enjoy it, or you may not. But you will learn to be my maid and servant. You will serve me in all ways."
I nod, "Yes, Mistress Erin."
"Now then, while we wait for my male friend, you will service me until I see fit to let you stop."
Looking back, I wonder why I didn't just stand up to her and walk out. But it was better this way. I ended up learning to love my Mistress, so much so I proposed to her later that year. We married in a fairly normal fashion - my dress ivory with a short train, her suit black pinstriped. As time progressed, Mistress started to use much more harsh punishment than I had ever envisioned. Candle wax, electro-wand, even so far as to nearly hang me by my now numerous piercings - clips through the rings in my nipples, my scrotum, my lip, the toes of my now 6" high heels barely touching the floor. But I loved her for it. I deserved it.
I heard her walk in the door, and I teetered down to meet her in the hallway. I was stunned to see her drunk, and stumbling, hanging onto this handsome man, easily a bodybuilder and easily more of a man than I could ever have been.
"Lucy, this is Tom," Mistress slurred. "Please warm him up for me, so I can get out of these clothes."
She gave Tom a kiss, their tongues encircling for a moment. She went upstairs, tripping most of the way, while Tom looked at me lustily.
"So you're the sissy Erin was talking about? Good. Make me cum before your beautiful wife is ready."
Tom shoved me down to the floor. I could see his hot cock throbbing through the material of his jeans. I unzipped his fly and out came this huge monster...12" long and easily 3" across. Knowing my duties, I proceed to give Tom, this stranger in my house, the best blowjob he'll ever get, secretly hoping Mistress will let him use my ass for his pleasure. I am her Maid, after all.