The Offer Pt. 02

That night in bed, he was energetic with her again. She lay there, feeling sorry for herself and sore.

"I can see I'm going to have to remind you what you are" he said, as he rolled off her and dozed off.

She lay awake wondering what he meant.

In the morning it was business as usual. She got up, had a quick shower, redid her makeup and got his breakfast and coffee. As he was about to leave she asked what he wanted for dinner tonight. Ron had said not to worry as he was taking her to the pub for dinner. He had kissed her and left.

She stood there with her heart pounding. She was still not secure in her role as a woman. It was one thing going to a supermarket, but a pub full of men and women, scrutinizing her...

She felt as though she was about to have a panic attack. She knew she would have to try very hard. She could not go overboard with her look; the makeup would have to be enough to make her look feminine, but not enough to look over the top. Her clothes would have to look "nice", but not too sexy.

Later that afternoon Ron rang her.

"Be ready when I get home, I know how long you bloody women take to get ready. Probably takes you an hour to decide which nail polish to use."

He laughed,

"Be ready to go when I get back at six".

She decided on a black corset-style basque. She needed to help her figure as much as she could. She wore her tight black lace knickers, and barely-black stockings. It was warm, a little hot for stockings, but she hated the freckles on her legs and did not want to draw attention to them.

Next came the black summer dress. It covered her shoulders and ended in cap sleeves. It had a double skirt. It almost reminded her of the Ra-Ra skirts she used to be so jealous of when she saw girls wearing them growing up.

Lastly she put on her black 3 inch, open-toed strappy sandals. Sandals with stockings? A fashion no-no? Sometimes she hated that she had to think about stuff like this.

An hour later Ron walked through the front door. He ran straight upstairs and came down after just changing his shirt for a tee-shirt. What the hell, she though. It took me 2 hours to get ready, and he took 5 minutes.

"Come on woman, get that cute little arse into the car."

He said,leaving her to lock up.

She nearly forgot her handbag and had to go back to get it.

Ron waited impatiently with the door open. As she bent to put her bag on the floor, she felt a hard slap on her bottom.

"Owww" She turned round, furious.

"Stop moaning, you know you love it" Ron said, winking at her.

A passing stranger laughed out loud. She was flushed with anger, not that it would show under her makeup.

They drove to their local Harvester and tried to find a parking space. After a short while they gave up and had to park nearly half a mile away in a multi-storey.

"Come on Debbie, keep up" She was trotting behind him try to keep pace with his large easy stride.

She heard her heels clip-clopping and worried about tripping. If she fell her stockings would be ruined! If she broke into sweat her makeup would be ruined.

Before she had agreed to live full time, she would never have thought about all these problems women have just trying to stay looking nice.

Ron took her hand and practically dragged her along the street.

"What's the hurry?" she said.

"We're meeting Dave at 6.30" said Ron.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. She had briefly meet Dave before. He was typical "lad" a sexist pig.

The prospect of an evening in his company, was appalling. Would he "read" her?

When they arrived she was "glowing". Ladies glowed, men sweated she thought ironically.

"I need the Ladies please" she said to the waiter, as he showed them to their table.

She glanced at Dave, who was already sitting down, He leered at her. She thought she would like to punch him in his smug face, but ladies didn't do that sort of thing, did they? Instead she just hurried off to the toilet.

She heard the tell-tale tinkle from one of the cubicles. Rather than engage in conversation, she thought, she would have a quick tinkle herself. She waited until she heard the door close and went out to wash her hands and fix her makeup. The room was carpeted and smelled fairly fresh.

That was one thing she did not miss. Men's toilets often stank. Some guys seemed to not care where they sprayed. Typical men, she giggled. Her mood improved as she saw her reflection; she saw an average-to-pretty woman looking back. No trace of "guy" here.

As she moved towards the table, Dave and Ron stood, a nice gesture, she thought. Dave leant in and kissed her, his hand doing a quick grope of her right arse cheek and leg. Ron was sitting back down as this happened, so missed it.

Dave sat and winked at her. After a few minutes of polite meaningless conversation the waiter arrived.

"What would you like to drink?"

She started to answer, but Ron spoke over her.

"A pint of bitter for me, cider for Dave and she'll have a dry white wine"

Inside she was fuming. Did she not matter? Was she so useless she who could not be trusted to order her own drink?

It got worse as he took the food order. Dave and Ron had steak, and Ron ordered a salad for her.

"Got to watch her figure, or I'll have to trade her in for a younger model"

The waiter smiled awkwardly and left.

Dave smiled and said "I'll watch her figure if you like, you're a lucky man, Ron"

"Yes, she scrubs up well"

This made her feel worse; she thought Dave cared for her. Now with another guy around, she just felt like a piece of property.

The subject turned to football. Dave said " What do you think of England's chance in the Euros?"

She could not help herself- as a guy she was an avid football fan. She did still follow the results, just not when Ron was around.

"I think if they keep rotating the squad it should keep the players fresh for the harder games." she said.

They both stared at her, then burst out laughing.

"Rotating the squad, do you think they are ballet dancers spinning around?" Dave said.

"Women! Ha!" Ron looked at her and grinned. "If we want an opinion on knitting, we will ask for it, babe. What do women know about football?"

Then he blew her a kiss.

So not only was she seen as a simpleron, her opinions counted for nothing. She thought back to the woefully few dates she had as a man. She did treat her dates in the same way to some extent. Her only thought then was the quickest way into their knickers.

Now she was the one in the knickers. She saw it all from the other side of the fence now.

The waiter brought the food and drink and the conversation paused. Mostly she was ignored. She thought she was just there to look pretty, an ornament to show off to Dave.

Ron stood and said "I'll get us another round, I'm not waiting for that slow bloody waiter"

She was alone with Dave. He reached under the table and rubbed her upper thigh.

"Oh, wow, suspenders. I love a woman in stockings they frame the bit you want to get to perfectly"

He would be in for a shock if he saw what my stockings framed, she thought.

"Please take your hands off me, Dave"

She said, a little too loudly.

His hand was removed quickly; he looked around to see if Ron had heard.

"I'm sorry, but I find you so sexy. If you get tired of Ron give me a call"

Trying to steal his friend's woman, he really was a piece of work.

Ron returned with the drinks; another dry white wine for her. She really liked the look of Ron's pint. That was out of the question though. She was stuck with little feminine drinks.

She sat and listened to their conversation about work. She had no interest in that. She felt the breeze from the open door lift the hem ofher skirt. She quickly pushed it down and wriggled in her seat. Her stockings rubbed together and made a zipping sound.

Dave stopped talking and glanced over as Ron got up and went to pay the bill at the bar.

Debbie stood, turned away from Dave and deliberately bent at the waist thrusting her bottom towards him. As she turned she saw him sit quickly and fiddle with the front of his trousers.

She was ignored and treated like a child, yet she had the power to turn him into a slobbering idiot. What a strange feeling this was. Powerless, yet powerful.

"Come on babe, we have a long walk back to the car - or a long trot for you."

Ron said.

"I'll give you a lift if you want, I'm parked in the car park here" said Dave.

"Thanks Dave, not sure if the old girl's ankles could stand the walk, she's such a delicate little thing"

Dave had a two door car, and they made Debbie get into the back. They arrived at the car park in a few minutes. Both the men got out and started chatting as Debbie struggled to push the front seat out of the way while holding her handbag.

Her heel caught in the seatbelt and she fell forward, exposing herself completely. She quickly covered her knickers with her dress. Had Dave seen? She was well tucked, but she couldn't be sure.

Dave helped her to her feet. Ron just laughed and said

"Are you a little drunk woman? I had better get you home before you make a fool of yourself, or did you want to give Dave another flash?"

"You're a lucky man, Ron, my ex would never wear stockings for me"

"She never wears tights or trousers mate; I don't let her. Trousers are for men."

"As I said mate, you are a lucky bastard"

"OK Dave, cheers for the lift, I'd better get her home and give her a good seeing to".

Ron winked at Dave and they both climbed into Ron's car.

As they drove home Debbie wondered, do most women put up with this crap, or is it they don't realise? After all, she had been on both sides, so she could see how unfair it could be.

Then again, she loved the power she could exert over men. She got a thrill when Ron dominated her. She felt so weak, but safe in his arms. She was so confused.

Perhaps she would feel better after she had had a "good seeing to"

Debbie sat in silence on the drive home. Ron had angered her and she didn't know why he treated her like that. She thought Ron had drunk a little too much to be driving, but knew he would bite her head off if she said something.

Ron was first to break the silence.

"You know what? I think I want to fuck my maid tonight. Is that OK with you sugar tits?"

More insults she thought. He liked her to dress sometimes for sex. The maids costume was one of many he had ordered over the last year. She hadn't worn it for him yet.

She had tried it on. It was a knee length black satin dress with puffy lace trimmed sleeves. It was good quality, not the usual sex shop stuff. It came with a full lace apron and cap. The main thing she liked was the full net petticoat.

She had a nice pair of white ruffled knickers to go with it. She had always liked these. They looked like the tennis knickers women used to wear. She remembered watching women playing tennis years ago. Many wore these sorts of knickers. She had alw

"Please don't call me that," she said.

"OK babe, sorry, but the thought of you wearing that outfit is getting me hard now. I'll have to think of something else, or we will have to pull over and you will have to take care of me."

She hated the way she was at his beck and call for sex. Often she was left unfulfilled. She took care of her needs when he wasn't around. Then again she found idea of being subservient to a man a big turn on. Why did she crave this?

When they arrived home Ron didn't bother to open the door for her. She got to the living room he had kicked off his shoes and was watching TV. She went to sit next to him.

"Don't sit down, I want to meet my maid. I told you that."

"What now!"

"Yes now, and make me a coffee before you come back in here."

Up in their bedroom she found the dress and all the accoutrements. She stripped completely. First came the black corset. It laced at the front and had lace around the bra cups and edges. Then she slipped into the black stockings. When she pulled up the frothy, white, nylon knickers, she ran her hands over her backside.

She looked so dammed sexy. She felt herself growing. No time for that now she thought. Next she stepped into the explosion of lace and frills that was the petticoat that came with the uniform. The uniform itself came last. It was a classic French maids dress, made of black satin, it finished a few inches up from the knee. The high collar, sleeves and hem were edged in lace. The skirt was held out around a foot all around by the petticoat.

She noticed every time she moved it rustled. Putting on her 6 inch heeled court shoes proved challenging. She would have to be very careful going down stairs, as she had no way of seeing her feet.

In the kitchen she put the percolator on and waited to make him a coffee. She thought about instant, but knew he would complain. As she moved she reveled in the feeling from the clothes. The suspender straps pulled against stockings as she moved. The petticoat tickled her thighs. She was getting so turned on.

She had fantasies about dressing as a maid, but would never had the money to buy an outfit like this. She put everything on a tray and took it into Ron.

"Oh thank you Fifi. Put it on the table and go and stand next to the window."

Fifi? She thought. Is that it? He wants me to act as a real maid called Fifi?

"Ah, Oui monsieur."

He looked surprised by her answer. His eyes followed her as she moved across the room. She waited in silence while he drank his coffee.

"Very good Fifi. Now come here and stand in front of me."

She rustled across the room and stood arms-length away from him.

"Now lift your dress up."

She lifted the petticoat and dress to reveal her frilly knickers. Ron gently rubbed the lace on the front. She tried hard not get excited. He wouldn't like that.

"Turn around and bend over."

As she bent, she felt her dress and petticoat flick over her back. Both his hands caressed her buttocks through her knickers. After a minute her said.

"Right now get on your knees between my legs and look at what you've done to me."

She saw the bulge straining at his fly. She undid his belt and trousers and his cock sprang up into her face. He groaned as took the tip into her mouth. She felt his hand pushing her further down. She pushed them away.

"Please let me do this at my own pace. If you make me sick, the last thing you're going to want is sex."

He was taken aback. She never normally talked back to him. She was right though. He was very turned on, and wanted to enjoy this.

She used her mouth until he was groaning and swearing. She worked her mouth up and down the full lenght of his iron hard cock. Whenever she got to the top she used her tongue to tickle the underside of his helmet, It was driving him wild.

"Sexy bitch, you fucking whore. Yeah, suck that dick bitch."

It was always a turn on when he talked to like that. She had realized long ago, that she had a masochistic streak. She sped up and his breath came in short gasps.

She just felt right doing this. This man paid all the bills. Kepts her in soft silky clothes. All she had to do was look and smell nice and take care of his cock. It was a simple life really. It was her job.

"Stop! I want to finish inside you. Go and bend over the dining table."

He helped her to her feet and roughly shoved her face down onto the table. She felt her dress rise and her knickers being pulled down to her knees. Without delay he shoved himself inside. She had prepared herself. It still hurt a little though. He was not being gentle. He was so turned on by his maid he didn't want to wait.

He slammed into her so hard that the table skidded across the floor with each stroke.

"Oh god, yes!"

He erupted inside her. She could feel the hot fluid pumping into her. She felt his weight as he collapsed on her back.

"That was intense babe. Come and sit with me."

She really needed to clean up, but she needed to feel some intimacy. She down sat next to Ron, his arm went around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. He kissed her cheek.

"I do love you baby. I'm sorry if I treat you like crap sometimes, but I know you enjoy it. Deep down, you know you need it."

She thought about it. Was he right? Was this what she wanted. Was she kidding herself that she wanted to be a loving wife, with a thoughtful loving husband?

"If I treated you well, you'd be bored and leave me in a few months. You enjoy the feeling of being trapped, being forced, don't you?"

She looked at him. Recently she thought he had been a thoughtless bastard. Was he really just giving her what he thought she wanted? She wasn't even sure herself. She had to admit, she loved the feeling of being trapped in the life of a woman, a housewife, waiting for her man to come home and take her.

Perhaps it was the guilt? She did feel guilty she wasn't acting like a man. She wanted this, but needed to feel forced. Maybe he was right, maybe she knew this was what she wanted when she accepted the offer.