Rachael Pt. 03 Ch. 05: The Maid

The Maid

Saturday came and went, Sunday along with it. I spent most of the time sitting in my new apartment and remembering the opera. I went out for a walk and looked for a music store. I found a recording of Carmen and bought it. I played it constantly for the entire remainder of the weekend. I loved the music, the story and of course the opera. I couldn't wait to see another.

The workweek came, and work still excited me because of its newness. I sensed that I would soon become bored with it, however. It was a bit tedious and repetitive. Mr. Barnett came by to see me on Wednesday and asked if I could receive him on Saturday for lunch? Of course, I told him I would be delighted, and we set the date.

I didn't know what to serve him, so I went to Clara for advice. She looked at me funny and said, "you are serving lunch?"

"That's what he said," I told her

"Usually I see him eating salad at lunch, nothing heavy," she said.

"Then salad it will be. Thank you for your help."

Then we talked about some spreadsheets she wanted to go over and I went back to my office and prepared them. She arrived about 30 minutes later and we reviewed the work. I made a few suggestions that she quickly rejected as amateurish. She left, and I went back to my current project. Planning lunch for Saturday.

Clara returned about a half hour later and said, "I have been thinking about what you suggested for an alteration to the cost saving analysis."

"Did you change your mind?" I replied.

"Maybe. I want you to do a full work up the way you showed the segment to me and then I will see if it fits with the other work. It's a good idea Rachael and we need to see if it can be integrated into the business analysis."

"Thank you and I will start on it right away."

She left, and I went back to my daydream about lunch while my fingers danced on the keyboard and re-assembled the spreadsheets.

Saturday morning, I was a wreck. I made a tossed green salad and grilled some chicken strips to put in the salad. I didn't like a lot of salad dressing, so I got some oil and vinegar out and set it on the table. The salad would be naked until served.

I dressed in a skirt and blouse, nothing fancy or too revealing. Pumps and panty hose completed the ensemble. I didn't know what he expected, and I didn't want to spoil his day by being dressed wrong.

Mr. Barnett arrived promptly at noon, dressed the same way he conducts business. He wore a very nice suit, silk tie, shined shoes and a big smile for me.

"Welcome," I said as I gave him a big hug and took his hand and led him into the living room.

"I like what you have done with the place."

He carried a garment bag and I said, "Do you want me to take that and hang it up?"

"I think I would rather just change first if that's okay with you?" he said.

"This way to the bedroom," I said as I pointed down the hallway.

He disappeared, and I went about opening a bottle of wine and pouring it into a decanter. The salad went on the table, the wine glasses and plates set so I guess I was as ready as I was going to get.

When he re-appeared I almost fainted.

"How do you like it?" he said as he turned around to show me the entire outfit.

"It's beautiful," I replied.

I did not know what to say. He appeared dressed in a maid's uniform, black short dress, apron, white cap, black stockings, high heels and a short blonde wig. Then I remembered what Madame said about him being a closet queen.

"I need some help with my makeup. I am not very good at applying it."

"I would be glad to help with that. Would you like to eat first?"

I wanted to start laughing because he looked so out of place, but I realized that this is why he wanted Madame, and now me, to entertain him. He wanted to dress in drag and be with someone. I wondered if he knew I changed my plumbing since Madame's.

"May I serve the salad," he said.

"Absolutely," I replied.

He pulled back a chair and indicated I should sit. Then he poured the wine and dished the salad onto the plates.

"Would Madame prefer to dine alone, or would you like me to join you?"

"I would be delighted if you would sit with me," I replied.

We both sat and ate our salads.

"What should I call you?"

"I like to be called Devona. Thank you for asking Ms. Rachael."

We finished lunch and he began to clear the table. I took my wine glass and moved to the couch in the living room while he did the dishes. I watched him through the doorway and wondered how to drive this meeting and get where he wanted to go. Not knowing where that was, seemed to make it a challenge.

When he came out of the kitchen I asked him if he wanted me to do his makeup and he said yes. We went back down the hall to my bedroom and I told him to sit at the dressing table and we would see what we could do.

Over the years I did a lot of makeup and learned to hide my natural maleness, but this would be a real challenge. His ruddy skin, and 4 hours since he shaved made it double hard. I rubbed his face with my hand and said, "This will not turn out well if we put base and powder over your beard stubble."

"Should I shave?"

"Let me get an electric razor. It should do what we need."

I went and got my battery-powered razor and shaved him. He seemed to enjoy the attention and started to relax and feel more comfortable. I finished the shave and put some concealer on his face and a foundation that I used. It was the only color in my dresser, and it wasn't too bad but didn't match his skin tone perfectly. He sat looking at his face and my work in the mirror and did not say anything. I used the trimmer on the razor to thin his eyebrows and re-colored them to match the wig. Eyeliner came next and then I put some shadow above his eyes. His eyes looked very good when I finished. I added some rouge to his cheeks and sat back to review my work. The lips were last, and I showed him several colors and asked him to pick one. He did, and I painted it on his lips. I liked to use a brush for lipstick and he asked me about that.

"You look very good Devona, how do you feel?"

"I like what you have done. I think I do look more feminine."

"Is that what you are looking for? To be feminine?"

"Yes, I want to dress and feel like a woman."

"Have you practiced a lot?"

"No, this is something new for me. Madame and I did this twice at her place last year and I really enjoyed the feeling."

"What brought on this desire?"

"I can't seem to function sexually as a man anymore, so I thought maybe I could function as a woman in a sexual role."

"You don't get hard?"

"I don't, and nothing seems to help it. The doctor gave me some pills, but they don't accomplish a good erection. I only get semi hard and I couldn't penetrate Madame."

"What about your wife?" I asked.

"She isn't interested in sex with me. I think she has a boyfriend, but I don't ask."

"Could you penetrate her?"

"The last time I tried I managed, but I didn't satisfy her."

"Okay, so you want to be a woman. We can work on that. What do you consider your weakest points?

"I still walk like a man and my posture is lousy."

"Stand up and show me."

He stood and walked across the room. He wobbled on the heels, but I thought his legs just needed to get used to them.

"Devona, I know a trick to help you with the walk, but it involves putting a butt plug in your rectum. Are you okay with doing that?"

"Yes, I love being entered from the back. I have one in my bag. Let me get it."

He retrieved the butt plug and went in the bathroom to insert it. When he came out he struggled to keep it in place.

"Squeeze your cheeks together and walk across the room. You must keep some tension across your backside to keep the plug in and it will help your gait be more feminine.

He did and managed to keep the plug in place while walking. The effort of keeping it in while walking changed his whole gait and he instantly recognized the difference. He didn't even have to look in the mirror.

"Wow, that really makes me walk different."

"Now turn your elbows out toward the front. Lead with them when you walk and let your shoulders move naturally."

He started to walk slower and with more feminine grace.

"Walk back to the kitchen Devona."

He started walking down the hall and I could see the improvement but also the discomfort it gave him. I wondered about smacking him on the ass to keep his attention on what he was doing. About that time the plug fell out into his panties. He stopped and pushed it back in. I didn't say anything.

"Devona, would you like me to administer punishment when you make a mistake or just tell you?"

"What do you mean by punishment?"

"I don't have anything like a whip or crop, but I do have a large wooden spoon in the kitchen I could smack you with."

"You would strike me with it?"

"That's the idea. It's not for everybody but I just thought I would ask."

"Have you let someone strike you before?

"Yes, and I have been aroused by it," I responded.

"I might like that," he said unconvincingly.

I went to the kitchen and got the large wooden spoon.

"Continue walking and let me watch," I said.

He started walking across the kitchen floor, concentrating on his gait and of course the butt plug. I smacked him just to get his attention and he jumped a bit. He didn't say anything, and I walked behind him pressing the big spoon against his behind. Every now and then as he walked I would pull the spoon back and smack him again. Always keeping the spoon in contact with his cheek. Then I pulled it back and didn't hit him. He flinched expecting the strike. I pressed the spoon back on him, but gently. We did this for a while and he started to get used to the pressure of the spoon. When I thought he drifted I hit him again, much harder than before. Then rubbed the spot with the spoon. We were walking laps around the living room and his gait improved considerably. I moved up and put my hand on his panties and rubbed him.

"I like your touch," he said.

"Keep walking and head back to the bedroom," I told him in a commanding manner.

"Yes ma'am."

He seemed to like me bossing him around a bit and he didn't seem to mind the spoon or the humiliation of my hand on his ass. I decided to push it a little and see how much he really wanted.

When we got back to the bedroom I told him to stop and gripped his panties at the waistband and pulled them down to his knees. I checked his ass for marks and saw some that the spoon left. I got some lotion I used and began to rub it onto his cheeks.

"Does that feel good?"

"I love your touch and the lotion is cooling."

I put more lotion in my hand and slid up between his cheeks and felt the base of the plug. I eased it out and began to massage his anal opening. He moaned his pleasure. I inserted a finger and although he flinched he didn't clamp down on me. I pushed my finger in and out, and then I used two fingers to rub the tunnel. I could feel him relax a little, however he was standing in heels and bent over in the middle of the room. I saw him watching me in the mirror and I said, "Do you like watching?"

"Yes ma'am."

I pulled back and slapped him hard on the nearest cheek. That upset his balance and he stumbled forward, catching himself on the bed. I pursued him and hit him again with my open hand. "Lay on the bed."

He crawled up and lay face down on the bed. I reached between his legs and pulled his penis back to where I could see it. It began to respond to the attention.

"Turn over. You're no girl, you have a dick and it's getting big."

He turned over and I began to massage his dick with lotion. I used the spoon to admonish him for being a fraud and hit him in the thighs. Every time I struck him his dick got harder. I put the spoon under his balls and rubbed them, but no effect. I struck him again and continued to massage his penis. He started to reach for it once and I smacked his hand with my open fingers.

"Do that again and I will use the spoon on your hand. You don't touch my dick this is for me only. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you want to cum?"

"Oh god yes."

"Do not cum until I tell you that you can."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"You better or the spoon lands on your little dick head."

I continued to massage him to the edge and then back off. I slapped him now and then to keep his attention and his dick erect. It was also making me hot. I wanted to sit on his dick but thought better of it. I leaned over and put my tongue on the tip and played with the hole. The pre-cum tasted strong and his ragged breathing told me I should let him get off.

"I want it now Devona, I want you to cum for me in my mouth."

"Ahhhhh, here it comes."

I took him in my mouth and felt the sweet expulsion from his prostate. It seemed thin but strong tasting. I sensed it has been some time since he released that nectar. I continued to hold him in my mouth, milking the last drop out of him as he recovered from his exertion. Finally, I lay my cheek down on his thigh and sighed. It was good for me too I thought.

Devona took a shower and cleaned off all the makeup, put his street clothes back on and joined me at the kitchen table for a cup of coffee.

"You were really good with me Rachael. I didn't know I could do that. Something in the pain aroused me. I still don't understand, but I do know it worked."

"Did you have a good time?"

"You are a wonderful hostess and I want to do this more often. Can I leave my uniform here?"

"You may and if you want you can add to your feminine wardrobe. I will put it all in the spare bedroom closet and you can use it anytime you like."

"That would be really nice. Maybe I will go shopping this week."

We drank coffee and talked about Madame. She never used the paddle or crop on him and I wondered why not. Then again, I remembered that corporal punishment was not her way. She never used it with me and I never saw her use it with anyone else. She commanded the room and used verbal abuse but never physical. This was food for thought. I wondered what he did with Madame? Did I dare ask?

When Dave left he seemed to have a bit of spirit in his step as I watched him enter the elevator. I think I did him some good.