George is Maid to Serve

Such public display was his worst fear, wasn't it? Then why was his cock so hard? Why was every part of him aching to be touched and stroked? Why did his skin burn with desire? He heard the snap of a rubber glove behind him then felt a long, thin finger intrude inside him. With her other hand, the woman who had violated him weighed his smooth balls, then gave them a playful squeeze.

She left George feeling thoroughly violated before she finally withdrew her finger, ridding herself of the glove, and came into view. She was an attractive middle-aged mistress with nice curves and dark hair gathered up into a bun, wearing the clothes of a woman from the countryside, practical but with a graceful cut. Moving her hand up to George's mouth, she looked inside, paying close attention to his tongue.

"You like what you see, slave?" she said.

George nodded – why hide it?

"So do I, slaveboy, especially after viewing what you said under the truth serum. Your kinks and mine could have some real fun together. See you later, slave – should I decide to bid on your sweet fuckable arse."

George watched her go with great longing. She had fantastic legs and a big juicy bottom that you could sink your face into – if you were so lucky. More women checked George out. One made it clear she thought he'd make a fine dancer and whore for her to sell time with. Another wanted a painslave, which George hoped wouldn't be him – by her reaction, it seemed like she desired someone who wanted her to hurt him. Four students from George's own – or perhaps former – university inspected him at length, before ruling him out for psychological reasons. He would do better with a single owner, they thought.

It was mostly older mistresses who found George to their liking. He had a charm that they often struggled to resist, and in fact his first owner in his previous period of slavery had been just such a woman. He wondered where she was now – probably getting her kicks with another non-voluntary slave. On her good days, they had clicked with each other, but on her bad days nothing he could do would ever have pleased her.

The display period drew to a close as the sun reached its midday high. The slaves were given water and allowed to use the facilities, then wiped down and re-oiled before being chained up in a line backstage. The line moved forward mechanically, with each slave chained to a conveyor belt that slowly took them toward the stage. The slavegirl who had helped George get off the night before was sold a few items ahead of him, going for a high price. Two more boys and one girl were sold, the last terrifying George with her cries of pain as she was whipped on stage. Now it was George's turn to be sold.

Female guards ushered him out onto the stage and handed his leash to the auctioness. She led him back and forth around the stage a few times, then stopped him in the centre and had him display all of his assets. The crowd cheered as his cock got hard again, even as the blushes flared deep red on his face. The auctioness was pleased with the display – George was torn between his fear of exposure and ... perhaps enjoyment of it?

"Ladies, I have here a fine young male specimen, only twenty years old, enslaved to a named mistress then sold immediately-" a few women cheered and a few booed, though George could make little out through the bright stage lights - "which one of you beauties will take him home today? He will serve you well as a service and pleasure slave – you'll see his list of limits – but have you seen his list of kinks?

"Just think how you could use the nanites to ... transform ... his life and yours. He's raring to go and has all the energy you could need. Just look at that cock if you want proof – I guarantee it's a real erection – you know the reputation of this auction house. Who will start the bidding at 40,000 credits?"

A hand went up – George couldn't make out faces from the stage. The auctioness wore polarised glasses so she could easily see the crowd – she acknowledged the bid and encouraged the next. George stood quite still, hands bound behind his back and cock still jutting forward. He trembled as his fate was decided.

At 50,000 credits his auction heated up when two new bidders entered the fray. Despite the blinding lights in his eyes, George thought one of them might just be the woman who had talked to him earlier. Just how compatible were their kinks? Had he admitted all of them under the truth drug? The ones he'd never told Melinda. Could he face living those out? Did he have a choice? George had liked something about her – a warmth that he hadn't felt from the other women inspecting him. Goddess, he hoped it was her bidding.

Whoever it was, they wanted to own him just as much as another tenacious bidder. His price rose and rose – 60,000, 70,000, 80,000 – serious money. George was spun around again, made to show off his tight, rarely fucked, arse and adopt all sorts of poses for the bidders. The auctioness started the bidding back – someone went straight in at 100,000 and she sold him for that on the spot.

"Please approach the clerks to pay and take ownership of your slave," said the auctioness.

A guard led George off the stage and handed his leash to the clerk. Through the crowd, his new owner approached. He almost collapsed to the floor in relief when his hoped for buyer emerged and paid for him. With her was the slavegirl he had masturbated with – apparently she had bought her too. They locked eyes and smiled – just like that, things were really looking up.

"My name is Mistress Aubrey," said George's new owner. "What's yours?"

"My name is, well, they named me GK-M-4" he replied, his earlier rebellion lost in the gaze of the formidable woman who now owned him.

"That's not your name. What's your real name? The one you had before they gave you that preposterous mess of letters and numbers?"

"It's George, Mistress Aubrey."

"Very good. We'll go with that, it suits you. But no more last names – slaves don't need them. And address me simply as 'mistress', slave."

"Yes, mistress."

"Right then my little slaveboy and slavegirl, let's go shopping."

"Yes, mistress," they said in unison as their new owner marched off holding both their leashes.

George and the other slavegirl – she was introduced to him as Fayola – followed quickly behind Mistress Aubrey, dodging through the crowded streets as the brisk country woman led them to the boutique she had selected. George kept his mind focused on her bouncing bottom, trying not to notice the thousands of eyes looking at him like a piece of slave meat. His blood boiled at the thought of Melinda – he had specified no public nudity in their contract, without realising how cleverly worded the clause was. Now it was void, and his slim naked frame was fair game to every passing female hand that pinched his bare bottom.

Fayola had no such qualms, he noticed. She was proud of her body and smiled and winked at everyone who passed, accepting their occasional touches like a good slave should. And what a body she had – to George's eyes she was perfection itself. Fayola noticed him noticing and laughed, then gave his bottom a little squeeze, while she giggled at his erect cock. He felt like he'd been hard for hours now.

Mistress Aubrey bustled her new slaves inside a shop called "Elegance and Service". Inside, they were met by a woman in a formal, business-like smock and sensible flats. She wore the same severe bun as Mistress Aubrey – George found the strictness very appealing.

"Welcome to Elegance and Service. How may we help you today?"

"I need a full set of clothes for a butler and a maid. Sets of practical wear and fetish, please, plus spares. The butler should be willing but the maid might need some persuasion. If you have to spank or restrain him then so be it."

George wanted to cry and to laugh all at once. He had always known his deepest desires ran this way, but never expected to live them out. He was so afraid of public exposure it had just never seemed like an option, even if it was common enough on this world. Now that he had no more rights to protect him, well, now it was finally happening for him. While he processed his new status, Fayola was led away by a shop-slave to the butler costumes – top-half only, of course.

"Come, my little George, don't fight it," said Mistress Aubrey, "It's for the best. You admitted it all under the truth drugs – and I know all about your fear of exposure too. I can help you get over that, but first we need something to expose. Follow."

With a click of her fingers, Mistress Aubrey took George over to the maid outfits, and the shopkeeper started pulling out costumes for him to try.

"I need smart materials only," said Mistress Aubrey, "I'm getting some nanite injections to do some remodelling and whatever fits him now might not in a month."

"Slaves!" yelled the shopkeeper, "let's get this one in a corset, nice and tight. You can shape that to how you'll remake him. Do you want his hair growing out?"

"Oh yes, please. Shoulder length bob, with a fringe. Nice and glossy."

"Slaves, see to it."

A small team of slaves devoted their attention to George. They laced a corset tight around his midriff, pulling it in so that George would start to acquire some curves, then padlocking him inside it. He stood with tears in his eyes as his hair was lengthened, taking a last look in a long mirror at his old appearance as it faded away. A particularly enterprising slave appeared with a makeup set, and went about adding lipgloss and eyeliner. George had to admit that he liked what he saw. Could he walk in public like this without dying of embarrassment? He caught Mistress Aubrey's eye. Why not? She nodded to him. Good boy.

"Will he wear a chastity cage?" asked the shopkeeper.

"No, I don't like the look of them. Do you have chastity knickers?"

"All kinds under the sun. Slaves, fetch a selection. Maid – yes, you – have you ever seen chastity knickers? Their nanite infused fabric locks the cock down close to the body, and the smart bonding system ensures only your owner or her delegates can unlock you. No big metal cage, just silky sheer fabric. Ah, here we are. Would the owner care to choose?"

"No. George, you choose the ones you like most. Being a lovely slutty maid is your fantasy – make it work for you. I have no preferences – it's up to you."

George ran his eye over the selection. He picked up some that looked most like the normal underwear men wore, then jumped as Mistress Aubrey's hand landed hard on his bare bottom.

"Pick the ones you really like, my silly little maid. The truth drug already revealed what a little slut you are. Why not have fun with it? I'm certainly going to – I'd prefer you to join in willingly."

George nodded and looked again. He found a black lace g-string that was barely a pair of knickers at all, and handed them to the waiting shop-slave, who lifted his own skirt to reveal a similar pair. They gave each sheepish smiles. OK, he could do this. The next pairs he selected were big and frilly – he thought they'd look great with a matching skirt. The dam was breaking inside him, letting all his pent-up desires finally come out. He needed some that would look good with stockings – more lacy ones in a variety of colours.

How about some that would look good with different pairs of shoes? He chose some black and red pvc knickers, then some in leather for really special occasions. His eye was drawn to the silk selection. These were really the most elegant of them all. He picked out some skimpy white silk thongs and a few more pairs of frilly silk knickers, then looked at Mistress Aubrey. Enough? She thought so.

"But put that silk thong on now, George. As charming as your erection is – and I do really like it – I want it out of the way for now."

"Yes, mistress."

George slipped the knickers over his smooth, slim legs and pulled them up into place. The smart fabric started to talk to the nanites in his body and turned his cock flaccid, then pulled it down under him, tucking it out of the way. When it was secured in place, his nanites let a little extra blood flow back into it. Now whenever he was horny, someone who knew what to look for would be able to tell by the bulge. George smiled at Mistress Aubrey – then bit his lip as he looked at himself in the mirror. Cute.

"Do you want some breast inserts for the costumes? And bras?" asked the shopkeeper.

"Yes, please. 34B. Slaveboy – I've decided to use nanites to give you some nice little breasts. They should take a flogging very well. I think 34B will look just right once we've adjusted the rest of your build just a little."

George processed his new feelings while the shop slaves helped him into stockings and then, finally, the maid costumes that he would wear from now on. Fayola retuned, all grins and happiness, and held Mistress Aubrey's hand. The new butler was already dressed in her smart formal jacket and shirt, which left her bare pussy on show. The first maid costume was similarly formal – black cotton and lace, classic and light. George loved it and Mistress Aubrey bought three.

The next costume was the same but in white. George thought it made him look very innocent and Mistress Aubrey shuffled her feet and panted a little when she saw him in it. She bought even more of those. The skirts were all extremely short – George could see they were designed to show, rather than to conceal. So be it – they were very alluring. George squeezed into a few more maid outfits – black and red PVC, a transparent plastic one that exposed everything there was to see, and a heavy black leather costume that he could be padlocked into.

"Shoes?" asked the shopkeeper.

"Flats and heels, please. Oh, and can you pierce his ears? I've got some little pearl studs I want to go in."

"Of course. Slave – see to it."

Mistress Aubrey picked the shoes out for George, choosing black, red and white heels and flats to go with his various costumes. Were they costumes, wondered George, or were they actually just his clothes? There didn't seem to be anything else for him to wear, after all. Perhaps being a maid could just be his new normal. Out in the country, serving these two incredible women – he could imagine worse fates.

"Slave," said Mistress Aubrey, "which costume would you like to wear out of the shop?"

"The white one, please mistress,"

"Good choice! I'll have to buy some matching leashes too. Come now, slaves. It's time for me to take you home to the country."

"Yes, mistress!" they said together.

********

George looked back on the year he had belonged to Mistress Aubrey for with great pride in his accomplishments. He dressed himself in the mirror as Fayola lay peacefully asleep in the bed they shared, her strapon draped over the bed post next to the cuffs that she used to chain him there by his slender wrists. He would bring her breakfast and start her day with his tongue in all the places she liked, then he would wait like a good maid for her to tell him his duties.

Mistress Aubrey had used her rightful and absolute power over her maid's body to remake it, with the help of many nanite treatments. George ran his slender hands over his luscious and curvy hips. They accentuated his lovely round bottom, still red from the anniversary spanking Mistress Aubrey had given him the night before, while he bent over so his skirt rode up just how she liked. He'd taken one swot for each of the 365 days, and had cried after the two hundredth, the tears smearing his makeup down his face. As sure as every other time she saw that happen, Mistress Aubrey had to fuck him right away.

She had let his big smooth cock out of his chastity knickers and rode it hard, making George squeal with delight. He thought his voice sounded much better after his owner had raised it a few octaves. It suited his new small frame, and seemed so natural coming from his delicate, feminine face. George could be mistaken for a biological woman if it weren't for the big cock and balls that were a great help in keeping his owner entertained. She had shrunk him down to her height, and George thought his new view on the world was much better.

George fastened a bra on and then slid his frilly chastity knickers up his legs and locked them in place. He had gotten used to asking a woman for permission to access himself – chastity knickers had become like his second skin. George finished dressing – black maid's uniform and matching heels, then sashayed his way through the corridors of the country house to its little kitchen. Even when no one was watching, he always tried to put on a show. He loved the way his ample bottom showed beneath the skirt – Mistress Aubrey had been so right to use nanites to grow it out.

Mistress Aubrey's current lover was a quiet woman named Katrin, who owned one of the nearby farms. She had left a note for George on the kitchen counter - 'Come see me when your morning duties are done. Your owner has me locked in the cellar for being a naughty little girl, but she said I could have some maid pussy if I wanted. My strapon awaits your luscious lips. K xx'. His cock swelled in his chastity knickers. Katrin was so very wicked.

George made Fayola's breakfast and woke her. She came hard and loud while sitting on George's face and drinking her coffee, then sent the maid off to make breakfast for their owner and wake her in a similar way. In Mistress Aubrey's room, he put on the little tease they both so loved, finding all sorts of excuses to bend over or show her the view down his cleavage or under his skirt, until she buckled on her strapon in a mad rush and took her maid wildly against the wall. He would rather have brought her off by using his cherry red lips to suck on it, but it wasn't his choice, and rightly so.

He knew the day looked like any other from an outsider's perspective, but there was a spring in his high-heeled step. This one was going to be special. George and Fayola had been discussing it between them – today was the day. George saw to his duties, enjoying an hour with the nymph Katrin in the basement, where she made love to him with tenderness and care. George thought she was a wonderful fit for his Mistress Aubrey – though he was sad that her lovers never seemed to last. Only her loyal slaves did.

In the evening, Mistress Aubrey returned from solving problems out on the automated farm she ran and had tender, sweet George strip her and bathe her while Fayola cooked their meal. Mistress Aubrey moved George's manicured hands down in the bath, right where he wanted them to be, and he kissed her sweetly while he brought her off. It felt magnificent to be owned by such a fine country lady.

Their evening meal was sumptuous, and all three of them basked in the warm glow of good food and fine wine in front of the roaring fire in the sitting room. George looked to Fayola for their cue. Now? Yes, now. He knelt down before Mistress Aubrey and Fayola did the same. She gave them a puzzled look, then a smile crept slowly across her face. George wondered if she'd guessed.

"Mistress Aubrey", said Fayola.

"Will you marry us and make us your slaves forever?" said George.

Mistress Aubrey looked her butler and maid over, so as to remember the moment when they became hers and hers alone, for as long as they all should live.

"Oh yes, my slaves, I will. Oh, I will!"