Remote Control Ch. 01

Author's Notes

Before reading this story please be aware that that some people would label this work as obscene and pornographic in nature. It contains several themes including transgendered, homosexual and lesbian issues in addition to graphic sexual descriptions.

To make the action flow more freely and the stories light-hearted, I have taken a socially naïve approach and have not included the usual protections that intelligent people would choose such as condoms, birth control and out safeguards against sexually transmitted diseases. Such risky behavior as those exhibited by the characters of this story should not be followed.

If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please look elsewhere.

If this sounds like a story you might find interesting, enjoy.

P.S. Any resemblance to actual people or places is completely coincidental.

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Chapter 1

I was studying my makeup in mirror, happy with what I saw, when my cell phone lying on the dresser next to me began to ring. I looked towards it, pondering if I should see who was calling. No time. I had to where to be technically, but I had carved out a few hours in my busy schedule to pamper myself and that's what I was doing this afternoon.

I had just pulled on my wig and combed the waves of brown hair into place when I heard the ring-tone again.

Someone's determined to interrupt my private time I thought. If it was important, they would have left a voicemail.

Wig in place. Makeup done up. Skin shaven smooth. Nails pressed on and secure. I returned my gaze to the mirror and was pleasantly pleased with the masculine looking woman staring back at me. Down ten pounds recently, I could see the manly features of my face were a little more gender-neutral.

The phone began to ring for a third time in five minutes and I couldn't avoid it any longer. I wasn't looking forward to being called away, having to strip off the makeup and showering, but it was best to handle the call and just deal with it now before I had gone out for the afternoon.

Caller ID Blocked.

Still no voicemail and no caller ID. Even salespeople weren't desperate enough to call back to back, over and over again.

"Hello?"

Silence.

The line wasn't dead; call dropped. A person was hanging on the other end of the line.

"Hello Sarah."

It had to be a coincidence. No one who only knew 'Sarah', my feminine alias, had this number and those who knew both sides of me, both Sarah and Michael, would have asked for Mike.

"Sorry. Wrong number."

Normally, I would have just hung up but I hesitated, unsure why exactly. Maybe it was the confidence in the caller's voice.

"No." he said. "I'm talking to Sarah."

Silence.

"At least you aren't denying it. That's good. There's no point in doing so really."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I replied, unsure on how to proceed.

"Come now. No need to be coy."

I tried to place the voice but it was impossible to concentrate. It was a man I was pretty sure and the faces of several I knew, flashed through my mind while my brain tried to match them up.

"You're home. Time on your hands. It's been a while so you're probably all dolled up, checking out yourself in the mirror and feeling a rush of adrenaline. Have a manicured hand stroking that erection yet?"

I couldn't help but look around, wondering if I left the blinds up somewhere in the house.

"Just admit it Sarah and we can move on."

Hesitation.

"I am." I finally said.

"You'll have to do better than that." the voice replied.

There was no way this was just a cold call. Someone knew of my hobby and admitting it wouldn't provide them with anything they didn't already know.

"I am all dolled up and standing here."

"Makeup and wig?"

"Yes." I said, still hesitant to confirm that I was a man relishing the fact that I was wearing makeup and a wig.

"Nails done?"

"Yes."

"Excellent! You see? That wasn't so difficult. I understand that the first step is always the hardest to take. Now for step two. The box."

"The box?" I asked, interest piqued.

"Yes. Now that you've shared a bit with me, I get to share some things with you."

Was I going to finally find out his identify? Know who was toying with me on the phone?

No.

"There is a box on your front porch. You are to retrieve it and take it to your bedroom. You will find a note inside and are to follow the instructions to the letter. Understood?"

A box on my porch! They had my name, phone number and not only knew where I lived but had just been here while I was on the phone since no box had been there when I pulled in a few minutes ago.

"Do you understand Sarah?"

"Yes." I replied, nodding in acceptance to the terms.

"You won't be disappointed."

The call ended.

I threw the phone down on the bed and darted towards the front door. My small porch was sheltered on both sides and only the house directly across the way had a view of my front door. There were no cars in the driveway across the street which indicted no one was likely to be home. I tried to look down but even with the fish-eye lens not all areas of the small landing immediately outside were visible.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I grabbed the doorknob with a shaking hand and gave it a turn. I pulled the door open six inches and looked out, listening for sounds of movement outside.

All was quiet.

I turned my gaze downward and at first spied nothing on the porch. My eyes saw the box but my brain refused to acknowledge it.

But it was there. White. Fairly large. Imposing yet curiously attractive.

I stuck my head out and after confirming no one was out and about, I stepped out in the nude, snatched up the box and darted back inside. Door shut and locked.

Following my instructions, I took the box to my bedroom and set it gently down on the comforter. My heartbeat was racing as I reached down flipped back the top.

I noticed the single sheet of paper on top of the contents lying inside, but my hands went first to the clothing inside. The frilly white panties and matching bra. The crinoline skirt and black maids uniform. The black patent heels, pantyhose and all the usual accessories for the stereotypical French maid.

One hand drifted down to my growing erection while the other picked up the single piece of paper covered in computer print, no hint as to whom had composed it.

"Dear Sarah. Welcome. This afternoon is going to be quite the experience for you. Trust me. As you can see, we've picked out a uniform for you that is one of your favorites. We know enough about you to know some of your likes and dislikes. You like to serve so we're going to provide you the tools to do just that. Your test of servitude begins now. You are to get dressed, wearing only those items in this box and nothing else. I'm sure you won't have a problem with this. I suspect you're already feeling the rush of anticipation of getting dressed so I won't delay you much longer. After getting dressed, you will retrieve ONLY your car keys, no purse, no phone, no coat, no change of clothes, get into your car and follow the map to the location shown on the back of this letter. The drive will twenty minutes and you've spent five minutes retrieving this box. That leaves you five minutes to get dressed and on the road. If you do not make it to the address shown in the 30 minute window provided, there will be consequences. Try to make up time by speeding Sarah will also have consequences. Imagine getting pulled over without a license? How about a trip to the local lockup dressed in your new uniform? If I were you I would probably get dressed now and get moving."

My head was spinning with the prospect before me. I tossed the note on the bed and began slipping into the items inside. 'They' must have known a lot about me because the undergarments, uniform and heels were all the proper sizes. Securing the ankle straps on the pumps, I took out the last items, a head piece, wrist cuffs and apron and put them on. There was nothing left in the box, save for a smaller box tucked into the back corner. I reached for it but it was secured there, glued solidly in place. I moved closer, noticing a hole in the side for the first time. When I realized it wasn't a hole but rather a lens, I pulled my hand away as though bitten.

They were watching me!

I looked around again expecting to see people everywhere. There were no obviously but I freaked out and pulled the box shut, keenly aware of how quickly but allotted time was passing! I stared in disbelief at my nightstand alarm clock and walked from the room in a rush, wobbling slightly on the tall heels. Without pausing, I snatched up my car keys and stepped into the dark garage, grateful that I could get in my car without having to step out onto driveway exposed.

The garage door came up painfully slow as I started the car and waited, searching the rearview mirror for traffic or pedestrians outside. I took the free moment to study my reflection in the mirror, my eyes a mix of emotions. I tried to flatten the short skirt, but the crinoline underneath was doing it's job and kept it puffy. I pulled into reverse, working the clutch and gas pedal with the heels and backed out. Traffic was picking up but with the windows up and no reason to stop, I was able to reach the end of my street without anyone noticing anything amiss.

The seconds ticked by as a steady stream of cars and trucks kept me firmly in place, precious time falling away. It was going to be close on whether or not I arrived on time to my assigned destination.