Quiet Servitude Pt. 02

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 6 – Sunday, June 8th

My fuzzy mind picked up the sounds first, the noise from rattling dishes and silverware. I noted the sunshine even through my closed eyelids, grudgingly opening my eyes to confirm what I had already suspected; morning had arrived. I wasn’t a morning person and wanted to stay under the covers as long as possible. Even when I stretched and noted the spaghetti straps of my nightgown across my shoulders and disappearing under the edge of my sheets I failed to get overly excited. Apparently Stacy hated morning as much as I did.

The clock’s red numbers glowed 9:48 a.m. and I knew I had to get moving. It normally took me twenty minutes to complete my normal routine but absolutely no less than forty-five for Stacy to finish her primping and yet be presentable.

I pushed the sheets aside and stood, my fingers finding the straps of the gown and slid them away, the entire satin nightie sliding to the floor around my feet. Halfway to the bathroom my manicured fingers had found their way under the sides of my panties and worked them over down my legs, gravity helping them over my knees and onto the carpet to keep the nightgown company.

The tile in the bathroom felt cool on my feet as I padded through the doorway and flipped on the light and called for hot water. The reliable nature of indoor plumbing didn’t disappoint and within a minute I stepped into the tub and felt the invigorating spray of steam begin to work its magic.

I was relishing the hot water but felt a certain excitement to get out and get on with the day. With my makeup and other accessories unpacked and at hand, I had developed a morning routine and was ready before I knew it, Stacy staring back at me from the bathroom mirror, ready to go. I had dropped my black and white uniform in the hamper the night before and withdrew another, this one cut in the same style but pink in color with white cuffs and collar.

One final check in the mirror and I left my room, working my way down the short hallway and out into the livingroom. Having heard the familiar sounds of plates and silverware earlier I stepped into the kitchen and noticed the stack of dirty dishes. I began to run hot water into the basin and added soap when I looked out and noticed Christa and Terry on the deck, finishing up with breakfast.

I could smell the brewing of coffee and noted the half-filled pot sitting in its cradle. I didn’t drink coffee but loved the smell. Christa wasn’t a fan either so the fresh smell was a treat as I pulled the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, took up the coffee carafe in my free hand and walked through the house to the doorwall. The air conditioning was off and the house airing out as a cool breeze blew through the screen door. Pushing it aside, I stepped out and approached the table, the umbrella missing. Terry and Christa were enjoying the beautiful, summer sun.

“Good morning ma’am . . .. Sir.”

“Good morning Stacy. How did you sleep?” Christa asked.

“Excellent. Thank you. More orange juice?” I asked, looking down at her for a response. She had on a pair of baby blue hospital scrubs, her round, unencumbered breasts pushing out against the light material. I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra on under the outfit and I could feel a familiar response under my uniform even before she spoke.

“No thank you.” She said.

I nodded and looked over to Terry, motioning with the carafe.

“More coffee sir?”

“Yes please.” Terry said enthusiastically. “I can’t survive without this stuff.”

I topped off his mug with the pitch-black liquid.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t up yet to fix breakfast for you. Is there anything you need?” I asked.

“No thank you Stacy.” Christa replied, looking even more revitalized this morning. She was smiling widely.

“No thanks. I’m stuffed. I hope I didn’t step on any toes by making breakfast or make too much of a mess. I can clean it up if you like?” Terry queried.

“Don’t worry Terry. Stacy will take care of it.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about it sir. I’m almost finished.”

I withdrew with my load and returned the orange juice and coffee to their allotted spots before stepping back out to the deck to clear the table of the plates, silverware, napkins and other breakfast essentials.

The couple continued to enjoy the day while I returned to clean the kitchen. Just as I was finishing up loading the dishwasher with the smaller items they came inside, the screen door clacking shut.

“Stacy?”

I stopped wiping the countertop and looked up expectantly in her direction.

“Yes ma’am?”

“In addition to the regular chores, could you please change the sheets in the bedrooms and have a roast and the usual sides ready for dinner at 6 p.m. again tonight? Terry and I will have lunch out but should be back before Julie arrives later today.”

“Of course Mrs. Miller.”

They split up, Terry hitting the couch in the living room and switching on the TV while Christa continued on to the back of the house.

I had just finished up the cleaning when Christa reappeared, no longer dressed in her scrubs. She rounded the corner of the couch and stepped into the livingroom, Terry coming to his feet at her approach.

I suspected her attire was having a similar effect on Terry as it was having on me.

She had on a gold, liquid metal tank top, it shiny surface hanging around her upper body suspended on two thin spaghetti straps, the negligible built in shelf barely able to contain her breasts as they moved hypnotically back and forth with each perfect step. Christa’s legs were wrapped in dark nylons, her feet tucked inside a pair of patent, black high heels, causing her to teeter slightly from the height. Her long legs extended upwards, the nylon continuing over her knees and up until they finally disappeared under the hem of a short miniskirt, the tight black material fitting perfectly over her rounded hips. The entire ensemble must have been new because I didn’t recognize any of it.

She had tousled her hair with her fingers and the curl returned.

She looked so incredibly hot in that outfit, causing Terry to fumble with an endless stream of compliments. I had seen pictures of Christa from her college days and she looked gorgeous then, if a little young and still harboring girlish features. But now, she was all woman and Terry was getting both barrels.

It was clear from her slightly embarrassed response that she was fully enjoying the attention. Mr. Williams on the other hand had on a tan polo and matching slacks, having gone without the jeans that seemed inseparable. A pair of simple slip-on shoes completed the look.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Oh yes.” He purred.

“Goodbye Stacy. We’ll be back later.”

Before I could step from the kitchen and reply, the door closed shut and they were gone again, the sound of the garage both preceding and following the expensive rumble of the Cadillac racing down the street.

I was alone again.

Having receiving my marching orders I walked to the back of the house and into the master bedroom, throwing back the comforter and stripped the sheets from the queen sized mattress. Balling them up I couldn’t help by notice the unfamiliar stains just barely visible on the deep blue material. It didn’t take much imagination to guess what it was and the pungent odor confirmed my suspicions. I pulled off the mattress cover, it too showing signs of carnal escapades, and tossed it on the floor where the pillowcases landed moments later. Bundling them up and tossing them in the hall I strolled across to the smaller twin bed in Terry’s room and noted that although the covers were back and the pillow disturbed, the bed hardly looked slept in. Doing as instructed, I pulled off the sheets following the same routine and took the armload down into the basement and loaded the washer. My own bed was clean so other than straightening the sheets I simply pulled back the covers to make it look presentable to the casual observer, resigning myself to the fact now that no one, save myself, would be sleeping or doing anything else in it the remainder of the week.

With the laundry spinning, I carefully climbed the wooden stairs in my heels and emerged into the kitchen, fixing a sandwich from the remaining tuna fish. While I nibbled, my mind continued to ponder where Christa and Terry were off to. In between trying to unlock the mystery of their agenda for the day came a mix of other thoughts split evenly between visions of Christa walking the sidewalks around town out in the bright sunshine wearing that incredible outfit and thoughts of me looking like her out walking the sidewalks around town draped in that incredible outfit.

I don’t know why I continued to torture myself with such thoughts. I wasn’t bad looking in a wig with decent makeup, but no matter what I did I wouldn’t be petite and were cursed with wide manly shoulders you couldn’t hid in any kind of outfit. Stacy was indeed suffering from a Cinderella complex and I chuckled, finding the thought amusing as I stood there in my maids outfit wondering where my fairy Godmother was hiding because I had a wish and by now I figured she owed me big time! I smiled and loaded my plate and spoon into the dishwasher and headed back to the basement, the spin cycle complete.

I switched the sheets into the dryer and dropped a load of darks into the washer before heading back upstairs to finish up the dusting I had started the day before.

Time passed quickly that afternoon as I finished up a handful of miscellaneous chores before gathering up the laundry and making the beds. I unloaded the last load and separated the clothing and towels, carefully folding each pair of Christa’s panties and bras before putting them in the dresser. They were silky and soft as I rubbed my hands across them while putting them away. Everything she owned was top notch. I didn’t mind her splurging on clothes when she looked the way she did because I got as much out of it as she did. Stacy on the other hand went straight for the plain vanilla, knowing that she wouldn’t get a lot of use of her wardrobe. It didn’t make sense spending a hundred dollars on a business suit when she might get to wear it out somewhere once or twice and it wasn’t something to slip into around the house.

“At least you’re getting some use.” I said to the uniform I was holding and the one I had on. As expected, the black and white material was wrinkled from the dryer and I dragged out the iron that rarely saw the light of day and went to work, pressing out the material and making it presentable once again.

Finally satisfied, I hung it in my closet and returned the iron to it’s hiding place, convinced that I would need it again before the week was out.

The afternoon was passing quickly but I didn’t realized just how fast is went until the front doorbell chimed. A glance at my nightstand clock showed that it was just after four and I assumed that Christa’s friend Julie had arrived.

I turned the corner and stepped into the foyer pulling the door open just as the bell chimed a second time. Good thing Christa wasn’t here to hear that!

“May I help you?” I asked knowing darn well that the blond woman standing on the front stoop next to a suitcase had to be Julie.

“Hi. Is Christa home? She asked.

“I’m sorry Miss, she isn’t it. Are you Ms. Jackson?”

She nodded.

“Please come in.” I said, opening the door for her.

She waved the taxi to depart, smiled, picked up her suitcase and stepped inside.

“Here. Let me take that for you.” I said.

“Thank you.” She said, sounding genuinely thankful. “You must be Stacy.”

“Yes ma’am. Mrs. Miller and Mr. Williams should be back shortly. Let me show you to your room and give you a chance to relax. I hope the trip was uneventful?”

“Other than the hassles of airport commuting and the long lines it wasn’t bad. I’m not a big fan of flying.”

I led her down the hall and into the last available guestroom, setting the case down on the bed where I unsnapped the latches and took the stack of jeans out from on top and placed them in the small dresser off to the side.

“Oh please. You don’t need to do that.” She said, stepping back from the window, trying to take the handful of shirts from my hands.

“It’s all in a days work ma’am.” I smiled and laid the clothes in the drawer next to the jeans. “I’m sure Mrs. Miller will give you a proper tour of her house upon returning but let me hit the highlights and let you relax after your trip while I finish up here.”

I led her through the house and after finishing in the greatroom I asked if she would like something to drink.

“Coke please.” She said, heading for the bathroom.

I poured one over ice and left it for her in the greatroom while I returned to the guestroom and continued to unpack her belongings.

“I left it for you in the greatroom next to the couch.” I said as she emerged from the bathroom. “If there is anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Are you sure I can’t do that for you?” she asked again, clearly uncomfortable with anyone messing around in her underwear. I could relate. I was the same way.

“I can leave it if it’s really making you uncomfortable ma’am but I it is one of my duties and I don’t mind at all.”

She looked sheepish now, trying to decide what to do.

“If you really don’t mind, I guess I’ll live.” She finally said, relenting with a wry smile.

“I don’t mind a bit.”

“Thank you Stacy” she said, turning and walking back to the great room..

I continued to unpack, feeling another wave of intense pleasure rippling through me as I worked my way through the clothes in the suitcase to the lingerie tucked in the bottom. They weren’t mine and they weren’t Christa’s but another woman’s all together and since they were beautiful lace garments and not your typical, boring cotton items it provided a thrill I hadn’t expected. This was much more satisfying than pushing the vacuum and like all great things it ended far too quickly for my satisfaction.

“We should have asked her to stay a month.” I stated to myself, placing her makeup kit and other essentials in the bathroom. I was convinced I was done when I did a final check and pulled back the flap hooked inside, feeling something square in shape. I pulled it out and to my amazement I held an open box of condoms, half the original contents missing.

“What the heck are we planning here, an orgy?” It certainly was beginning to look that way and my mind began to ponder the possibilities, the frequently visiting erection coming back again. I had returned to box to it’s spot in the suitcase and was closing it when Julie appeared in the doorway.

“I was wondering if you had anything I could snack on before dinner. All they had on the flight were granola bars and I’m not a big fan of those.”

“Of course. We’re always fully stocked.” I said with pride, placing the suitcase in the closet and closing the folding doors. “Why don’t you follow me to the kitchen and we’ll find something for you.”

I was calling off items as I worked my way through the cupboards when I came upon a few boxes of pop tarts.

“Ooh!”

A woman after my own heart.

“Chocolate fudge or cherry?” I asked, holding up each box for inspection.

“Chocolate!”

I held out the box and she grabbed one foiled packet.

“Don’t want to ruin my appetite.” She smiled sheepishly. “The roast smells wonderful.”

“Old family recipe.” I lied, having done nothing but dropped the roast, baby carrots and peeled potatoes into the crockpot along with a cup of water and packet of seasoning.

She caught the joke and thanked me for the snack before heading out of the kitchen and back to the greatroom. As she departed I couldn’t help but admire the view. She had the same hairstyle as my wife but her hair was a pure blond, clearly not original but attractive nonetheless. She had on a navy blue polo and cache hiking shorts along with a pair comfortable tennis shoes and low, white socks. She might not like granola but it was abundantly clear that she watched her diet carefully and worked out, most of which must have been outdoors, her requisite, south Californian tan was flawless. Julie left my view as her tiny five foot four frame reached the steps leading back down into the greatroom. Not thinking of a reason to follow, which neither she nor Christa would find acceptable, I turned my attention back to the duties at hand and began to set the table for dinner, our best china for our two guests.

The settings were in place, the lighting down low, candles lit and the usual assortment of dinner utilities were in place. Satisfied, I did one final check in the kitchen and noted that it was quarter to six when the garage door finally sprang to life.

I walked down the short hall, past the bathroom and unlocked the inside garage door, opening it for Christa and Terry. They were leaning towards one another in the front seat when I opened the door. “Ms. Jackson arrived and is waiting in the greatroom.”

“Christa!” Julie screamed from the kitchen, apparently hearing their arrival.

“Julie!” Christa responded in kind.

The three, wearing wide smiles, were sharing hugs all around, excited to see one another.

“You look wonderful!” Julie said to my wife who was still wearing the great outfit she left in earlier in the day.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she had it on the entire afternoon.

And so it went for the next few minutes as they stood in the kitchen with me as I continued to toil at my tasks, getting ready for dinner.

“Do you need anything to drink?” Christa asked. I turned, ready to fulfill any requests.

“Oh no. Stacy has taken great care of me. My drink’s in the other room but could use another when we eat.”

“Terry?” she inquired.

“Beer sounds good.”

I nodded and took one out of the fridge.

“Thank you Stacy.”

“You’re welcome sir. Would you like anything ma’am?”

“No thank you. But open the red wine for dinner and could you take the packages from the car into my room?”

“Of course.”

“Come in and let me show you around!” Christa exclaimed as she led the group back to the greatroom while I turned and walked into the garage. I had flipped open the trunk using the keyless remote from the key rack inside the doorway and was unloading the bags from the trunk when I heard the footfalls behind me on the driveway.

“Hello Stacy.”

I recognized Lisa’s voice before I turned.

“Hello ma’am. How are you?” I nodded, seeing Roger standing next to her but too shocked to look directly at him.

“Fine, thank you. This is my husband Roger.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I said, finally able to catch my breath and stare him straight in the eye. I was convinced now that he had to recognize me since we played golf every week but he showed no signs of it. When it came to most things he not very perceptive and apparently my appearance was good enough to fool the casual observer. Lisa was a different story and although she didn’t show any signs that she knew it was me I found it hard to believe that after living as neighbors for two years that she couldn’t recognize me under what I thought to be an imperfect disguise.