Margot's Contract Ch. 03

Not much was said on the Monday morning when Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott came to pick me up to take me back to her home where I had agreed to be her submissive servant -- on a twelvemonth trial. My mistress informed me she'd taken the day off from her senior managerial post to show me around the house and what was expected of me. I took my wallet, keys and mobile phone with me but no clothes other than the ones I was wearing and my panties.

I was still in a sort of shock after finding out my possibly serious, life-threatening medical condition had been misdiagnosed and that I'd nothing to worry about. It was only that sense of impending death that had propelled me to tell Mrs Stott of my submissive desires for her in the first place! Yet now, here I was, my cock in a pink plastic chastity cage, wearing ladies' bloomers and sporting painted toenails, curly -- girly hair and earrings and with a butt plug inserted into what I now thought of as my sissy-pussy. I couldn't really say I regretted being in Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott's service and I'll admit the spanking she'd given me plus other humiliations I'd endured -- having to drink my own cum for instance -- actually turned me on a little bit. I'd never realised until now just how submissive I was. Was I really prepared though to go further down that path? Did I really want to go beyond the spanking and forced cross-dressing that was all I'd thought being dominated entailed?

After showing me briefly around her large house, I was shown into a smaller, two-bedroom extension located just behind the main house and only accessible through the main dwelling. This was to be my residence from now on. The larger bedroom was furnished and decorated in the style of a teenage girl with predominately pink bedding and carpets and cutesy posters of the heads of pretty young girls in full make-up. I noticed fittings at the corners of the bed that I thought resembled manacles or handcuffs but I never commented on them, besides, I was not meant to speak to Mrs Stott unless spoken to by her first.

The large dressing table seemed well stocked with items of makeup and the large wardrobes would, I was informed, soon be stocked with all the necessary clothes, shoes and underwear the likes of me would require.

The bathroom, again holding various items one might find in that of a teen girl, had, I was informed, the necessary equipment to douche myself plus lubricant for use on my sissy-pussy.

The kitchen would be stocked with all the ingredients I would need to keep my weight in check by making the meals outlined in the diet-plan book that was on the worktop.

The living room had a small sofa and two matching chairs and a small table on which sat a laptop. Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott would monitor and have complete control of my internet use. A few magazines were on the table too, these being teen-girl and womens' magazines plus I noted, a ladies' underwear catalogue.

There was a television in the corner which would be turned off remotely by nine every evening to give me time to remove my make-up in readiness for bed.

We returned to the main house and went upstairs again to the room I'd received my spanking in so recently. My little dick had been getting excited for some time now and but for the chastity cage that imprisoned it, I'd have had a hard-on just looking up at Mrs Stott's sensuous legs as I followed her up the stairs.

Mrs Stott ordered me to go to the adjacent bathroom, shower and, if needed, douche again before re-inserting my butt plug and return naked before her.

Nervous but excited I did as I was told, (but not washing my hair in the shower as I wanted to retain the feminine girly cut I sported.)

"Here Denise," she pointed to a pile of clothes draped over the bed on my re-appearance, "you will wear these today. Put them on now there's a good sissy."

There were rather thick, black hold-up stockings over which I had to wear a pair of bloomers much like the directoire knickers I'd recently wore. These were of white cotton though and didn't feel as sensuous as the earlier pair but they did allow my chastity-caged dick room. A tight white bodice came next which Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott helped lace -- a little too tightly in my opinion. Next went on a long-length pink slip with frilly hem which was topped by a long, black chambermaid's dress. Mrs Stott helped button this up at the back and tie the bow on the white, lacy apron that finished the dress off.

A black cotton collar edged with white lace and fitted with two bells and a ring went around my neck and a white-frilly maid's bonnet was seated on my curly hair. My new mistress helped place two large metal-hooped earrings in position and then handed my shoes, five-inch high-heels, black matt leather that strapped - and locked - above the ankles. As I've said. I would not have looked out of place on the set of Downton Abbey -- but this time my drawers were those of a serving maid rather than the Lady of the house.

"You better get used to wearing high-heels Denise, now, follow me and I'll show you where everything is to perform your duties.

Now, as a silly little girly, you won't be expected to do anything demanding. Just dusting, cleaning, washing, ironing and making me drinks and snacks and such like. A booklet outlining your jobs is in the utility room with instructions on how I like my drinks and snacks made. No need to worry your little head about anything else.

I will arrange for you to get training in your make-up after which I will expect you to look immaculate -- every day. Oh, I know you're disappointed that your uniform is more functional than frilly, but please me, do as you're told without question and you'll be allowed a gradually frillier, sissy outfit. You'll like that won't you Denise, wearing really short, sissy skirts over frilly, sticky-out petticoats and small panties and the like?"

"Yes ma'am," I honestly answered -- well, my excited but trapped little sissy-clit told me that I would.

"Now, your first duty every day after making my breakfast and helping me dress is to collect my worn panties and hand wash-them plus any other washing I leave for you. I'll tell you what you must dress in each day; check your slut-phone before you get up. Be a good girl and like I said, you'll graduate to the frills and cute lingerie you yearn for.

It's also imperative that, early on in your service, you accept that your sole purpose in life is to please me. To satisfy my sexual needs is all you live for now; we will start that training today, this evening perhaps."

"Yes ma'am," I nodded, feeling my little todger begin to writhe in excitement within its confinement and maybe dribbling a little bit onto the cotton of my bloomers.

"Now Denise, I want you to try walking back in your lovely new shoes to your little house and to switch the laptop on. The password is on a card nearby. Once logged-on, you must go into "videos" and watch at least the first three of the films I've loaded for you to help you in your new position. Be warned though, I can check-up on what you're doing, watch anything else but the clips I've loaded and the spanking you received the other day will seem like a tickle. Got that?"

"Yes ma'am, I understand."

"Good girl, oh, and one other thing, you must always curtsey - as the videos will show you - when first meeting me or leaving my presence, similarly, you must always pinch the hem at the sides of your dress with your forefingers and thumbs whenever you're in my presence or in the presence of anyone else in this house. I can't abide a sissy with her hands lopping about idly. Now, try a curtsey holding your hem and then run along and watch your training films but be careful on those heels. Practice as much as you can."

I tried a curtsey whilst trying to hold the hem of my long skirt and only just about managed not to fall over then made my way gingerly in small, mincing steps back down the stairs to my own rooms.

This was all so weird. I felt that this was somehow all unnatural, all wrong, all just not the real me. But as my little girly steps swished my slip and long skirt against my bloomers which in turn pushed against my chastity cage, my dick was telling me something different. How I longed to get it out of its prison and jack-off over my new outfit. The butt-plug too seemed to be teasing my sissy pussy, moving about more within it now that my small steps made my hips swivel, especially as they now had to bear the weight of the heavy maids' dress. I just hoped that the training Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott was to give in giving her sexual pleasure would include relief for me, even if it meant I again had to swallow my own spunk -- something I still wasn't quite sure about.

I made it back to my living room without tripping, switched the laptop on and watched it boot-up with a background picture of a pretty girl licking the head of a rather large penis. Signing-on, I started to play the first video listed. It started with a very pretty mature lady in her underwear holding out a pair of panties and teasing the viewer about their wanting to wear them and....

Well, you can guess the rest. The rapid clips of pretty girls sucking dicks then revealing they too had penises was interspersed with sissy-maids curtseying and instructing would-be sissies how to do it. Slogans appeared at intervals telling the viewer that they craved dick and spunk; had to accept they were for the sexual pleasure of others. Towards the end, most of the sissies were now seen taking large penises up their sissy-pussies and being thoroughly shafted by macho-males. Some of the sissies were wearing chastity cages.

Was this the world I was now entering as Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott's maid? I can honestly say that, when I first envisioned giving myself totally to a woman like her, I'd no idea this was the path it led to. Honest. I felt a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Damn the doctor for mistaking my medical records!

Yet, even though my sissy-clit was well and truly trapped, I could feel how excited it was; could sense it dribbling little spots of semen onto my bloomers, could sense my testicles welling-up a larger reservoir of spunk than I'd started the day with.

Confused after watching a second and third such video, I made my way to the kitchen and found the ingredients needed to make an approved meal from my planner, scrambled eggs on toasted brown bread. As I finished eating, my slut-phone rang.

"Denise, I shall come down to see you and give you more instructions in how to please me at seven. Please be ready and remember to curtsey as I enter; stay dressed as you are. I hope you enjoyed the videos and have learnt your new position in life."

As seven approached, I managed to freshen myself up a little but found it rather a fuss trying to pee. Eventually I managed to make sure my dress and slip were clear of the toilet as I sat down, lowering my bloomers to my ankles as I did so. Perhaps it was the videos I'd been watching; maybe they had some subliminal effect on me but, feeling my clitty weeing through the chastity cage and looking at my drawers nestled about my ankles I found myself excited at the thought of always having to pee like this, like a girl from now on.

To help calm my nerves before my mistress arrived, I sat on the settee -- having to do so in quite a girly way in order not to get entangled in my long dress - and started to read the magazines that had been provided. First though, I studied the lingerie catalogue, envying the lucky creatures wearing such sexy panties, bras, stockings, corsets and the like. Had watching those videos made me like this?

The womens' magazines were the usual mixture of fashion pics, recipes, agony aunt type pages, celeb articles and short stories usually about romances. Finally, I got around to the teen girl magazine "Modern Teen Girl World" or something like that. It was aimed at elder teenage girls about to start university and discussed issues -- quite often in a picture story format - of the things that might interest or concern girls that age; periods, boyfriends, school and university themes, and the inevitable problem page. I was particularly taken by the three-page cartoon story "The Trials of Pauline", a tale of a pretty, blonde-haired 18 year-old girl and the worries and concerns she and her friends had. Should she date the older boy she knew her parents would disapprove of? Should she agree to send nude pics of herself to him or lie about who she was with after lectures, that sort of thing? I could see the story was essentially giving agony aunt type advice in picture form, but I formed a kind of kinship with Pauline, her wavy blonde hairstyle was a lot like mine and I loved the way her skirt hugged her waist and flared out some way above her knees. I learned about her forthcoming exams coinciding with her period and her worries it might adversely affect her. She sometimes wore a little pink beret which was quite fetching and I found myself gently buffing up my curly hair, imagining I too was wearing such a beret. Just as I was wondering if I'd be provided with the next issue to see how she was getting on, the door to my room opened and in walked Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott holding something like a dog-lead.

I stood up as quickly as my maid's dress and high-heels would allow and, remembering to pinch the hem of my dress in the desired manner, gave a curtsey.

"Not bad Denise but keep working on it. Now, walk to me and let me fasten your lead. It's time to re-enforce your position in life."

My balls felt heavy with excitement, my dick too was making its presence felt as best it could. The swish of my dress and slip added to my sense of anticipation.

Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott was wearing, for her, a very short red skirt, black fine-denier stockings and a thin, silky white-blouse. I sensed her bra was not that substantial as I caught a glimpse of her nipples pushing into view as I approached her, but I didn't dare stare; I didn't want another spanking -- well, not today.

Lead fastened, I was led back into the house to a bedroom. I could definitely see the top of my mistress's stockings as we climbed the stairs, but never quite managed to catch sight of her panties.

I was helped out of my dress (quite a palaver stepping out of it in my heels) and bodice. The slip too was removed. I was told to lie on the bed, face upwards, as mistress proceeded to handcuff my hands and feet to the bed corners. Once satisfactorily shackled, Mrs Stott stood by the side of the bed level with my chest so that I could get a full view of her as she undressed.

I let out an audible gasp as her blouse was removed, revealing her thin bra which had no chance of restraining her firm, tall nipples. She smiled as she saw my lusting for her and held her stare as she next removed the bra.

"You see Denise, small-dick little sissies can only view a real woman, they must not presume they are man enough to caress them --not unless their mistress decides to treat them."

Next, she unfastened her skirt and, still staring at me, let it fall to the floor before stepping out of it. I almost fainted at the sight of her long, stocking-clad legs. I could see clearly enough her almost see-through white briefs with a pink bow at their waist. She could see my longing for her as she turned to grab hold of my bloomers, managing to pull them halfway down my thighs. As she leant down to do this, I could see the light material of her gusset stretch and twist, some of it being pulled in between her vagina. I swore I noticed a slight patch of damp. My eyes were in heaven and I realised I was dribbling a little from my mouth. My dick though was in hell, all efforts at expanding thwarted by the pink cage that emphasised my impotent sissy status.

"First Denise, something to whet your appetite," she smiled as she stepped out of her panties and climbed onto the bed. She turned to face my feet allowing me my first look at her glorious, real-woman's fanny. Her hanging, labial lips draped either side of her majestic pussy, the musty smell of aroused woman, and the damp glistening beads of a real-woman hungry for sex. And I was a party to this majestic view, aching to bury my tongue in her genitalia, feel her trimmed, greying bush brush against my face.

"Take a good look sissy as that's all you'll be able to do. Your place is to worship my butt-hole until I order you to stop."

She lowered her bottom towards my head until her little button anal-hole lay above my lips.

"Get licking Denise, get that tongue in there and serve me, get it in there nice and deep and enjoy the taste of your mistress."

I obliged until my tongue ached and then carried on, daring not to stop until mistress allowed me. She scrunched her bum down hard on my face sometimes until I felt I would suffocate but, encouraged by her to enjoy the privilege of having my tongue up her ass, I closed my eyes and struggled valiantly on in a truly heroic manner.

Eventually, just when I thought I could no longer carry on, she lifted herself off me, making sure her vagina stayed far enough away from my tongue to deny it even a split-second of delicious contact, and bent down to pick up the white panties she'd recently been wearing. These she stuffed into my mouth.

"Good girl Denise, but I'm not finished with you yet."

She walked over to a nearby cupboard and returned holding a contraption which, after some effort, she strapped around me, just above the base of my sissy-clit, on the pubic-bone area.

"I don't know if you can see what this is Denise, so I'll tell you."

I tried raising my head to see but her body, now back astride me, blotted out all sight of it.

"It's a dildo- eight inches or so -- the size of a dick just about worthy of fucking me," she laughed and began to flick the pink-plastic gaol that encased my own paltry weapon.

"Whereas this," she flicked my organ again, "your little "Tiffany-tinkler", well, it's just not worthy to service a woman is it. Answer me!" she demanded.

I managed to get my aching tongue to push her panties to one side of my mouth, giving me just enough room to make an audible reply.

"No ma'am, it's not worthy."

Facing me, she then lowered herself slowly onto the dildo she'd fastened about me. I could hear the sound of juices slowly descending along its length.

"Imagine if your sissy-clit was big enough to do this! How would that feel Denise?"

"Beautiful. Too wonderful for words ma'am."

She descended the dildo's full length before rising again and, once more, slowly, determinedly, squished her sumptuous pussy back down. Her pace increased, her juices now basting the artificial cock so near my own, unsatisfied sissy-clit. My caged-dick flapped as her body pumped up and down, the sound of it a kind self-mockery.

"Listen Denise, your little "Tiffany-tinkler" thinks it's a proper cock, but we know it isn't don't we? What do you have instead of a cock Denise?"

"A clit ma'am, a sissy-clit."

"That's right. Always remember that."

She ceased her teasing me and set about riding her proper size cock with increased gusto, her medium sized-tits and sticky-out, taunting nipples bouncing in full view of me, so near, so inviting, but with my sissy-clit caged and hands manacled, they might as well have been in another country.

She continued to ravage herself, using me as just a kind of workbench, someone or thing whose own sexual needs were not worth considering. The humiliation as she rode me was total and, in its way, wonderful too.

Oh how I felt so pleased for her when I saw her, Mrs Margot Elizabeth Stott orgasm and flood my waist and pubic area with her fluids. It took her a minute or two before she deigned to climb off it -- and me.

She unfastened the harness that had held the dildo in place and moved towards my head to remove her panties from my mouth.