tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersQuiet Servitude Pt. 03

Quiet Servitude Pt. 03


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.

With the exception of the main character Stacy, after whom I modeled a lot of my own psyche wanting to capture how I would feel in situations developed in the story, all other characters and circumstances are completely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or places is completely coincidental.

Chapter 7 – Monday, June 9th

If the sunshine hadn’t been so bright I wouldn’t have believe it was 9:30 in the morning. I had gotten eight restful hours of sleep but felt still felt tired until my brain began to ponder Stacy’s agenda for the day. It involved a party at Debbie’s house and although the majority of guests would be strangers, the thought was still a mix of panic and sheer enjoyment. I wouldn’t have to stay in the same place all night or have to carry on conversations with the guest but I would have to make an extra effort to pay attention to how I walked, how I stood and how I carried myself.

The job, I had been told, was a no-brainer so I would have a chance to study the guests and more importantly the women present to pick up a few pointers. Such an opportunity rarely presented itself and I thought I would get the most out of it. Besides, it would give me something to do to take my mind off the fact that I was a man serving drinks at a party dressed up in a female uniform, undergarments and a wig with makeup smeared across my face.

Terry needed caffeine to keep moving but maybe he should try a little crossdressing instead. Nothing like the potent mix of panic and adrenaline to set the day off right.

I continued to lay in bed one more minute while I tried to motivate myself. The house was still quiet, everyone apparently still sleeping in, when I climbed again into the shower and felt the invigorating steam on my skin. My room was at the end of the hallway so I didn’t have to worry about waking our guests.

Two showers a day would take a toll on anyone’s skin I noted as I toweled off, the soft material still damp from my previous shower only eight hours ago. I grabbed the container of moisturizer and pumped a decent amount into my hand, rubbing it thoroughly into my face. I took another shot and worked it into my shoulders, arms and across my legs. The makeup had dried my face out but the uniform that I wore each day had done the same to the rest of my body and I enjoyed the way the smooth cream made my skin feel.

The makeup went back on even faster today as I found my stride and my overall appearance looked even more convincing I thought as I did a final check in the mirror. The black and white uniform, washed and ironed, looked particularly crisp this morning. Feeling unusually proud of my appearance I was ready to face the day and slipped my feet into the heels before stepping into the hallway.

As before, the house remained quiet. There was no one about. I took a few steps down the hall heading for the livingroom, noting that Julie’s door was closed as was Terry’s just down from it. Curiosity got the better of me and I took a few more steps passed the juncture of the hallway and could see that the master bedroom door was cracked an inch.

I turned and looked out across the interior of the house and didn’t see anyone. Finally deciding that everyone was still in bed, I took a half dozen steps down the hallway and moved towards the master bedroom door, trying to see in from a few feet back. From that distance I could tell the bed hadn’t been made but beyond that nothing was apparent. I side stepped the squeaky spot and after taking another look around I inched forward, moving my eye right up to the opening where I could see the queen sized matress come into view. The comforter was gone and the sheets were trailing onto the floor. Even the mattress cover was pulled off one corner. The house was cool, the heat having been off all night and I could see three bodies curled up together on the bed, pushed up tight to another to share body heat; a sea of intertwined arms and legs.

“I wonder what I missed last night” I said to myself, noting that all three of them were naked, at least one pair of beautiful breasts stuck up from the backside of the bed, not knowing if they were Christa’s or Julie’s from the angle.

I could feel my familiar erection growing again, wondering if it would ever cut me some slack and was stepping away from the door when someone stirred. Not wanting to get caught, I stepped back into the hallway and darted out quickly into the living room, careful to step quietly until I was solidly in the kitchen and no one would suspect I had just been in the hallway only moments earlier.

I was putting on coffee when I heard a bedroom door closing, the occupant trying to be stealthy. A second later another door closed tightly but this time it was not so quietly done.

With the coffee on I began to whip up some batter for pancakes, hell bent on showing Terry exactly how things are supposed to be done in a kitchen! With the ingredients ready I prepared the grill and started off breakfast by preparing crispy bacon and sausage as the other people in the house pulled themselves together.

The cooked meat was done and resting on paper towel in the serving plate when I first heard voices. Neither woman had showered or dressed, but brushed out their hair and had wandered down to the kitchen, each dressed in a simple robe, Christa padding barefoot across the carpet. If they had anything on under their robes it wasn’t apparent as each had the garment cinched up tightly around their narrow waists.

“Good morning.” I said, preparing to spoon out the pancake mix onto the griddle.

“Morning.” Julie spoke first, eyes at half-mast.

Christa only managed a halfhearted mumble and a slight wave as both women sat down at the barstools in the kitchen on the other side of the counter.

I set a tall glass of cold orange juice in front of my wife and turned to Julie.

“Can I get you something to drink Ms. Jackson?”

Here eyes blinked a few times, chin cupped in one hand, and elbow resting on the countertop.

“We have coffee, orange juice, tomato juice, cranberry juice, milk and water.” I offered a list of available beverages trying to present something acceptable. I was going to toss in wine coolers as an option but thought better of it.

“Coffee . . . Black.” She finally decided.

I poured a mug and slid it under her nose, the steam wafting up into her face where it sat. I set the plate of hot bacon and sausage within their reach, buttered a few more slices of toast and began to pour out the silver dollar sized pancakes, the sizzling griddle sounding unusually loud this morning not having to compete with the normal, bubbly conversation. The first four pancakes were ready when I shoveled them onto the plate and set it next to the others. Christa was nibbling absentmindedly on piece of bacon still looking like she were in a fog. Julie, I was convinced, had fallen back asleep. I saw Terry approach and take up residence in the third and last barstool.

I was ready for him and set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him, but he intercepted it in mid air and started sipping on it between phrases he was mumbling like ‘thank you’, ‘bless you’ and ‘you are wonderful’. I took them in stride, knowing it was just the coffee talking and turned back to the griddle, the next stack of flapjacks ready for consumption. I set them on the plate and made another even dozen before rinsing the batter bowl in the sink.

Terry was the first to stir from his funk and come alive, shoveling a little of everything on his plate and dousing it with a healthy helping of maple syrup. By the time he was half way through both his first cup of coffee and his first plate of breakfast he looked like he was wide awake and ready for the day.

“Would you like some eggs to go with this?” I asked him.

“No thank you Stacy. This is wonderful.” He said through a half-filled mouth of pancake, motioning to his coffee cup. I topped it off and he gave me the thumbs up, lifting it towards his face.

Christa had made it through the bacon she started on five minutes earlier and was starting on a piece of round, breakfast sausage.I noted that she was chewing faster and appeared to be coming around.

“Would you care for something else ma’am? Maybe an omelet?” I asked, offering alternatives.

“Just some toast with jam please.”

I slathered some of her favorite cherry-almond butter jam onto the white toast and passed the plate across to her. Terry was staring at it hungrily and I offered him the same, which he gratefully accepted.

Julie for her part was now propped up on both elbows, her chin resting in her hands and eyes shut. If she wasn’t leaning forward I would have worried she was going to fall off the barstool. Noting that she could fall forward within reach of the griddle I slid it off to the side and began to load the dishwasher.

“Come on Julie. Shake a leg.” Christa finally said, elbowing her friend.

“Hmmm . . .”

“Does anyone need anything? Aspirin?”

Christa looked up at me and paused.

“Not hung over. Just had a rough night.”

Rough night, I thought to myself. Right! Had trouble sleeping did we? I bet.

I turned back to the sink to hide the grin I could feel forming on my face and continued working my way through the stack of plates.

“I’m going to hit the shower.”

With that Terry got up and walked back to his room.

Christa dropped the half eaten slice of bread back on her plate, took a sip of the orange juice and grabbed the cordless phone before she too wandered back towards the bedrooms.

I was cleaning up the plates when Julie finally spoke.

“Thank you for breakfast.” She said, yawning widely and cracked her right eye looking directly at me for the first time this morning. “I just wish I was awake enough to enjoy it.”

“You’re welcome ma’am.”

She smiled and saluted before staggering towards the back of the house.

I tried to conserve hot water and had loaded the last of the machine wash items when I heard Julie calling me. I hurried back and found her door open.

“Yes ma’am?” I said, stepping just inside the door. Around the corner I could hear her in the bathroom moving about. “Can I get you something?”

“Do you have any shampoo I can borrow?” she said stepping out into view.

The silk robe she had on was hanging open, the ties hanging lazily at her sides. I tried not to stare but her chest was just hanging there above her smooth belly, a small thin tuft of hair running down between her legs. I’m not sure how my brain managed to capture all that information because my gaze snapped up to meet hers a split second after I registered that she was standing there all but naked in front of me.

“Ma’am?” I said, my brain not registering the request.

She smiled and held up the small shampoo bottle.

“Of course. Let me refill that for you.” I replied, flustered and trying to regain my composure as I took the bottle from her. “Any preferences?”

Julie shook her head. “Thanks.”

I dashed out to my own room and refilled the bottle from my own shower and capped it off. I turned to take the bottle back but found my route blocked by Julie who had snuck up behind. She was standing there, her robe still hanging tantalizingly open and a devious smile on her face. I stared down at her from the top of my heels, nearly eight inches taller than her. I held the bottle in both hands out in front of me, using it more as a shield I think.

She reached up and took it in her hands, though not immediately removing it from my grasp. With four hands holding it, our fingers came in contact and held there, our eyes locking and neither pulling away until finally I could feel her take control and take the bottle. Julie finally looked down, a big drop of shampoo smeared across her fingers. She rubbed it slowly between her finger and thumb for a moment, looking at it casually before speaking.

“Thank you.” She said, turning her eyes back up to meet mine.

I nodded, unable to speak.

She looked down at the bottle of cream colored liquid and lazily wiped away a remaining drop that had oozed out the top. I stared down wanting to keep an eye on the bottle as well but my eyes drifted past it to her chest, the soft, round breasts just sitting there, easily within reach. How I wanted to take one in each hand at that moment and just stroke them. I noted then she had finished with the cleanup and was staring at me as I was preoccupied with her chest. Fortunately, she was still holding the bottle in the same general direction and I quickly developed a cover story.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have a better bottle?” I asked, swallowing hard while I stared into her dark, blue eyes, unable to think of anything else than her ample bosoms just sitting there taunting me.

“This should work fine for me. Thanks.”

“If you need anything else please ask.” I said, instantly regretting it. I felt like a giddy schoolboy talking to a cute teacher and feeling as though my lame offer was as transparent as hell.

I heard someone speaking in the background but it didn’t register with me until Julie spoke up.

“We’re in here.”

Christa appeared in the doorway immediately behind Julie and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me, having her nearly naked friend standing in my bathroom.

“I just talked to my hair dresser. She worked me in at 3 o’clock and she found an opening for you at 3:15 p.m. so we’re all set.”

Jan was her hairdresser across town and they had appointments this afternoon.

“Great!” Julie replied. “Thanks again for the shampoo.”

Holding up the bottle she turned and stepped passed Christa and out of my room.

“What were you two doing?” my wife asked, smiling deviously.

I shook my head a little too vigorously and denied that anything was happening.

“Nothing. She was out of shampoo and just needed a refill. Really.” I said innocently enough.


I don’t think she entirely believed me but at least she was smiling.

“I know you will be working late tonight so after we leave make up the beds and relax until your ride arrives.” She said, slipping back into character before walking back to the master bedroom, her long wet hair cascading down over her shoulders.

I bent over at the waist and locked my hands on my knees, exhaling the breath I had been holding for the past minute. I shook it off and walked back into the hallway, heading for the master bedroom. I could hear Christa elsewhere in the house so I took the opportunity to make her bed. As expected, the room was deserted now, but it was clear that it hadn’t been last night. Instead of making the bed as expected, I stripped the sheets off again and tossed them in a pile near the door so I could grab them on the way out. I suspected that making the other beds in the house wouldn’t require such energy. Without looking too closely, I snatched up the clothes strewn about and placed them in the hamper. All of them were women’s clothing but they could easily have been Julie’s. At least the last time I did the laundry it was easy enough to sort them out!

Terry shot across my path coming out of his room and proceeded to the back of the house. I literally picked up one corner of his covers and ran a hand across the comforter and his bed was again made. His room was intact so I made my way to Julie’s room. She was also missing so I quickly straightened up her bed, which looked somewhat slept in, and went back towards the greatroom, my chores now done for the day.

“Bedrooms are all set ma’am. Is there anything else you need?”

Christa pulled the key ring from her purse before slinging it over her shoulder. She slipped on her sunglasses before turning.

“No thanks Stacy. Julie and I are heading out for the afternoon. Chances are we won’t be back before you have to go so we’ll see you over at the Hennesey’s this evening. Terry will be catching up with us later and I told him to take either the Porsche or the Cavalier and showed him where the spare keys are located. If he asks for anything, please see to his needs as best that you can. I did remind him that you were working tonight so I don’t think he’ll be asking for much.”

Julie stepped up, a purse over her own shoulder.

“Ready?” Christa asked. “We’ll see you tonight.”

With that they were gone and silence ensued, save for the television that was on in the living room, Terry sitting on the couch.

Not sure what else to do, I walked back to the hallway and snatched up the bed sheets before taking them downstairs and starting the washer. I returned to the kitchen and munched on a cold flapjack, trying to settle my nervous stomach. The house was in order and I still had several hours before my ride arrived and an interesting evening ensued. Between now and then I would have to find something to do. Watching TV or playing on my X-box was my normal routine for killing time and butterflies but neither were options with our guest settled in the livingroom for the afternoon.

I washed my plate and set it out to dry, deciding to return to my room and my book in hopes of whiling the hours before I ‘went to work’.


I spun on my heels and found Terry standing behind me in the kitchen a mere three feet away. My mind was reeling on how he could have snuck up on me like that but knew that my attention was elsewhere, probably still thinking about Julie’s breasts!

“Yes sir?” I asked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I nodded, wondering where this was leading.

“Do you find me attractive?” he inquired.

“Sir?” I replied, the look of confusion coming easily to my face.

“I’m fairly perceptive as far as guys go and I couldn’t help but notice that you appeared somewhat uncomfortable when I first arrived.”

Oh geez. I’m acting weird and he thinks I have the hots for him. Perceptive? I’m a guy standing here in a dress two feet from him and he thinks he’s perceptive? Egotistical apparently.

“It’s OK.” He said. “I kind of broached the subject with Christa before Julie arrived and she mentioned that you were acting differently. She thought you may have been harboring some feelings for me and I wanted to clear the air. I don’t want my being here to make you uncomfortable.”

He stepped a little closer while the kitchen sink prevented me from skirting backwards on my heels.

“I . . .. I’m not sure on how to answer that question, Mr. Williams.”

And I didn’t. I could either tell him that my anxiety stemmed from being dressed as a humble housemaid and meeting him for the first time as Stacy or that I was attracted to him, which was partially true I figured. Either way I hesitated and didn’t have time to think up another reason.

“It’s all right. I know that you work here and you have to bottle up your emotions sometimes. But we’re alone and you don’t have to hide it any longer.”

This guy gets laid acting like this? Even so, he did have a certain charm and after seeing him in action a few days ago, the thought of him running his hands across my body held an appeal that was hard to describe. If we were to explore this possibility it would become apparent to him quickly that I wasn’t what I appeared to be.

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