tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersQuiet Servitude Pt. 05

Quiet Servitude Pt. 05


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 9 – Wednesday, June 11th

I woke to the sun shining in the window; the clouds of yesterday were gone. The room was filled with the orange light of early morning when I sat up and noted that it was 8:15 a.m., an ungodly hour for me when I wasn’t working. Strangely, I felt full of energy and seemingly wide-awake.

The morning process of showering and a close shave followed by makeup was feeling more like a routine as I finished up and stepped back into my room around nine. I slipped into my clean and wrinkle free pink and white uniform, the pressed surface pleasing to the eye as I admired the confident looking woman in the mirror facing me. Today I was feeling a little sassy so I dug out a pair of off-white pumps with three-inch heels and slid inside them with a shiver. I put in my earnings and slipped on the few rings and the one bracelet I owned. It might have been a little over the top for the humble maid I saw before me but I didn’t care, feeling a larger sense of pride today. I liked what I saw in the mirror, not simply my physical appearance. The twinkle in my eye faded for a moment when doubts began to creep into my reflection.

I was clearly happy about how the day ended yesterday and despite Christa being visibly turned on by the events, I was hesitant that after sleeping on it she may not be as keen on what had transpired between me and two of her closest friends. I wasn’t disregarding Julie or Terry’s feelings totally but they were leaving later today and it was my wife who was my primary concern now. Despite my apprehension, it wasn’t going to accomplish anything by continuing to stall and remain in my room. One deep breath and I was out the door and into the hallway.

The house was silent but I could hear the sound of running water and knew that someone was already up and getting ready for the day. All three bedroom doors were closed so I couldn’t tell who was up, who was still in bed and who the heck was where. For having had the week off, I felt horribly out of touch on just what the hell had transpired around here. Even this thought seemed humorous to me today.

“C’est la vie!” I commented, heading for the kitchen.

I hadn’t spent this much time in her since we moved in. Today, I decided, I was going to do it up right. Eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, hot syrup and toast with butter and jam. I started the coffee brewing and poured myself a glass of orange juice feeling dehydrated. OJ didn’t agree with me but it was ice cold and delicious. I was whipping up the batter for the cakes when I heard an exchange of words followed by hearty giggling and laughter. I couldn’t tell who it was but hoped Christa was part of it. Much to my relief, I saw the pair of women step into the livingroom and stroll my way, clearly appearing happy this morning. I watched them long enough to make sure their mood wasn’t a trick of the light before turning back to my chores. The griddle had just reached temperature and the first set of toast popped when they walked up and sat down across from me, looking cleansed and refreshed and each wearing silky looking robes.

“Good morning.” I said, greeting them when they sat down. I set a tall glass of the orange juice in front of Christa and stood there obediently, waiting to take their order.

“Good morning Stacy.” They both said at once, finding the coincidence particularly funny.

I wasn’t sure what had gotten into them but I liked it until the thought of the master bedroom strewn with illegal narcotics flashed into my mind. After the way this week had gone I wasn’t counting anything out but hoped I was wrong. When Christa turned towards me and looked up from the barstool I was looking for any signs that her and Julie were buzzed on something. Not being particular adept at the symptoms I don’t know that I would have recognized the signs if they were there, short of a crack pipe sticking out of the breast pocket of her robe.

I checked and was relieved to see the pocket empty! Her eyes looked tired but the twinkle was still there.

“What do we have on the menu today?” my wife asked.

“You are in for a real treat this morning ladies.” I said, running down the proposed menu that they found more than satisfactory.

“Coffee please.” Julie ordered with a smile. “And a plate full of everything!”

Christa nodded at the request and I set to work multitasking the best to my ability. The toaster was toasting and the griddle popping, its hot surface laden with a multitude of items. Buttered toast with jelly, pancakes with maple or berry syrup, sausage, bacon, eggs and even french toast with cinnamon. They took their time savoring the food but it was clear that their appetites were full this morning. Julie motioned for a second cup of coffee, black, as they continued to fill their faces while trying to carry on an animated conversation. It was good to see them in such a good mood, I thought to myself as I continued to cook to order and silently enjoyed their camaraderie.

Everyone in fact seemed to be in a great mood this morning when Terry entered the room wearing sweats and a T-shirt. They exchanged their good mornings while he sat down at the third and last barstool. He looked up when I set a steaming cup of java in front of him and smiled.

“Morning Stacy. How are you today?” he asked, his voice still husky from sleeping.

“Fine sir. Thank you for asking.” I replied. “What can I make for you this morning?”

“Scrambled eggs?” He took a swig of his coffee. “And buttered toast would be great.”

I nodded and went to work as he nibbled on some bacon. The girls were still at it, continuing to eat breakfast between hurried comments and questions to each other. I was buttering his toast as the eggs finished up on the griddle, neither he nor I having anything to say that could remotely compete with the animated girl talk going on between them. Terry was normally a quiet person, I noticed, and really spoke up only if directly questioned or a lull in conversation made him uneasy. I was faithfully upholding my subservient role only speaking if spoken to or if I had a question. The pair was easily making up for the both of us.

I scooped his scrambled eggs on a plate, added his buttered toast and set it in front of him just as Julie and Christa were finishing up.

“Anything else?” I inquired.

“No thank you.” Julie replied, half a mouthful of toast still being worked on.

“Me neither.” Christa said pushing her plate away.

I cleared both to the sink, topped off Julie’s coffee cup and asked Christa if she wanted more juice.


I topped off her glass and my own before returning the container to the fridge.

“I’m sorry Stacy.” She said. “Go ahead and fix yourself breakfast. Don’t mind us.”

“Thank you ma’am.”

Julie and Christa were still picking at the bacon and a half-filled plate of toast so I snatched some extra crispy bacon from the griddle and chopped it up into small bits adding it to the pancake batter with a healthy helping of maple syrup ready to make my own breakfast. A spot of oil and the silver dollar pancakes were underway, the satisfying sizzle sounded perfect to my grumbling stomach. Keeping a tight eye on them I looked up and could see Julie staring at me, the conversation halted for a moment.

“She likes to make them that way.” Christa explained with a smirk and a wink as she took another long pull on her orange juice.

“Would you like one Ms. Jackson? I asked.

“Just one.” She responded, curious enough to poke down one more.

“Ma’am?” I asked Christa, knowing she had tried them but preferred them plain vanilla.

“No thank you.”


Terry held up a hand indicating he wasn’t interested, still working on a full mouth of eggs. I flipped the cakes for a second time and slid one onto a fresh plate, presenting it to Julie who was again engrossed in conversation.

“Thanks.” She said, starting to reach for the syrup. “Am I supposed eat it plain?”

“No ma’am. You can eat it anyway you want.” I chuckled, selecting the blackberry syrup for my own plate. I dug into my breakfast feeling my own appetite growing.

Terry had finished up and I cleared his plate. The girls, it appeared, had finally given up. Breakfast in the Miller household was winding down. Without having to converse I was free to dine at a quickened pace as long as it fell within etiquette guidelines considering I wasn’t alone in the kitchen. I refilled my plate with more pancakes but even now they were losing their special edge. They were still good, don’t get me wrong, but fresh off the griddle was best. I tossed on a sausage patty with the syrup and dug in again, noting for the first time that the conversation was starting to lag as Terry began filling in the lull with a comment here or there. The high carb, high protein breakfast was beginning to weigh on the girls who appeared less energetic than they had earlier.

I topped off two coffee cups but was waved off on more juice. With everyone’s appetite satiated for the time being I cleared the counter, unplugged the griddle and began to load what I could in the dishwasher. I wrapped up the leftovers and went to work on the larger items as the trio disappeared into the greatroom, their conversation still apparent but not nearly as animated as before.

A few minutes later, as I wrestled the cooling griddle into the sink, Christa, Julie and Terry came out of the greatroom and crossed back towards the bedrooms. From my angle I could only see Terry walk into his room, alone, pushing the door halfway shut behind him.

I turned back to the cleaning and worked the washcloth into every nook and cranny wishing I could use the scouring pad on the teflon surface. As it was, the batter and grease came loose easy enough and within a minutes time it too was stacked on the drainer to dry. I snatched up the towel to dry my hands when I felt someone coming back towards the kitchen. It was Christa standing there alone, adorned in one of her bikinis. She had several in fact, but this was the first time she wore this particular model, a stunning electric blue model that shocked me when I looked her way. She was a confident woman but on the rare occasions when we visited friends or were out of town together when the hotel had a pool she could never bring herself to wear it. We had talked about having a pool put in but we had pushed it off again until next summer. The small swimsuit had two small, triangular cuts of fabric held onto her chest with a tie around her neck and a second around her back. The same material stretched across her crotch with a narrowed band rising in the back, two thin ties came together on her hips to hold it in place. She was checking out the fit while I was checking out the entire package, her heaving chest having its way with the revealing outfit. I tried to pull my eyes away from her body knowing she would look up and catch me if I didn’t.

“Ready?” Came Julie’s voice from around the corner. The sudden interruption jerked my attention free as Christa turned at her approach. She stepped into view, her blond hair flying around her shoulders. Her suit, also a two piece was emerald green in color with a halter top that help distribute the weight of her larger chest while the bottom had a less revealing cut.

“Yup. One minute.” Christa replied walking into the kitchen. In my heels I finally had her by a few inches. She stepped up close to me and turned around.

“Can you tighten this up?” she asked, motioning to the tie across her back.

“Yes ma’am.” I replied, untying it while she held everything in place. From my vantagepoint I couldn’t help but notice the sweeping curve of her feminine form as it swept down her back and out over her stunning ass, revealed in perfect form by the bathing suit. “How’s that?”

She released her hands from her chest letting the poor things loose they jiggled just a little as they settled into place.

“Great. Thanks. Now I’m ready.” She said to Julie. She took one of our walkie-talkies out of the junk drawer in the kitchen and switched it on; verifying that channel three appeared on the small, digital display. She took out the second and did the same, handing it to me when she was satisfied.

“Lisa and Roger were nice enough to offer us the use of their pool so we’ll be next door. If we need you we’ll call. Please strip the beds again while we’re gone.”

With that, the two girls joined up with Terry in the livingroom before making their way outside, across the patio and over to the neighbors. I rushed to the greatroom and took a quick look through a narrow slit in the blinds. They were still milling around on the deck, testing the water, when Terry jumped into the deep end. The girls chose to enter down the steps into the luke-warm water instead.

From the window and due to a slight drop from our yard to next door I could see the deck and the three as they swam about in the peanut shaped pool. The water was sparkling under the midday sunshine.

I was erect yet again and tempted to please myself based on my memory of their time in the kitchen but opted to use the time to work on my current chore. I rushed to the bedrooms, ignoring mine again and stripped the bed in record time wanting to get back to my voyeurism in case anything happened. The master bedroom sheets looked the worse for wear and I wondered what on there had come from me during our group romp the previous night. In the daylight, the magic of the room seemed to have lost its aura as though it had all been a dream. The sheets clearly showed that something dramatic had happened here not too long ago. I wadded up the linens and headed for the basement, carefully navigating the stairs in my higher than normal heels.

With the laundry in and spinning I dashed as quickly as possible back to the greatroom to see what I was missing. I had made it back to the kitchen when I heard the walkie-talkie start to crackle, its solid body bouncing against my groin as I walked.

“Breaker breaker channel 3. Come in Stacy. You got your ears on darlin’?” Christa’s voice sprung forth with a twang. I could hear laughter in the background before she let off the transmit button.

I snatched my walkie-talkie from the pocket of my apron and tried to answer back in a feminine voice knowing this was being transmitted out over the open airwaves.

“Yes ma’am?”

“It’s awfully hot out here. Can you bring us two iced teas?”

“Would Mr. Williams like anything?” I asked, not realizing the faux pas I could have made with such an assumption.

I could hear Christa and Julie laughing on the other end until they came under control and my wife continued.

“He’ll take a beer. Thank you.”

“I’ll be right out.”

I was in the fridge when the walkie-talkie squawked again.

“And move your ass bitch!”

Say what? I was tempted to reply but thought better of it. If it wasn’t Terry that meant someone else was in close so I didn’t want to get them pissed off. I’ll just play the silent card and let them move on and find something else to do. We’d switch channels when I take out the drinks.

“And chips ho’. We want chips too!” came another voice, Hispanic accent clear through the speaker.

“That definitely wasn’t Terry.” I commented to the tray of drinks in my hand.

“Yeah. Chips sound good.”

Oh God. That was Christa getting in on the act now. Chips. They want chips. I set the tray down on the counter, found a brightly colored plastic bowl and dished out some blue corn chips. I knew what was coming next so I shoveled out a small bowl of hot salsa to go with it and added it to the full tray, heading out the back door and stepping carefully across the lawn so my pointed heels wouldn’t penetrate the lawn.

I was stepping onto the patio and nearing the pool when I snuck up behind Julie, walkie-talkie in hand.

“And some salsa please?” she said, barely getting it out before I stepped up to the edge of the pool.

“And here’s your order ladies.” I said, setting down the tea, chips and salsa. They were sitting on the steps relaxing as Terry did short laps.

“Where you like your beer sir?” I asked when he neared my end of the pool. He stopped for a minute and looked as though he was seriously pondering it.

“Right there on the patio is fine. Thanks Stacy.”

I set the beer down on the concrete and turned again to the ladies who were back into their conversation and drinks, Christa slowly running her fingers through Julie’s hair as they talked. They were sitting close to one another, their long legs intertwined under the sparkling water. It was then that I noticed Lisa and Roger’s other neighbor was out in their own yard, taking an active interest in me as I stood out in the open in my uniform. She was down on her knees in the dirt pulling weeds, having lost interest in the swimmers who were low out of sight but I could tell she was scrutinizing me as I stood poolside, my bright pink outfit glowing in the sunshine.

I was feeling awkward and ready to run as Mildred continued to study me from under her shade tree.

“Will you be needing anything else ma’am?” I asked, eager to move on.

“No thank you Stacy. That’s it for now. We’ll call if we need anything.”

I nodded slightly although only Mildred was looking in our direction and walked across the patio, onto the lawn and back inside our house. After shutting the screen door I moved back over to the window and peered out again. Terry was still doing his thing while the girls stayed on the steps sitting impossibly close. Christa was still petting her friend and from the looks of it things might have been going on underwater but I couldn’t tell.

Peeping out the window at my wife and her friends, my own hand slid up under my uniform and down my hose and panties. The view hadn’t changed and was inconclusive but that didn’t stop my mind from slipping into overdrive just pondering the possibilities, real or imagined, of what was going on under the water.

The washer finished its spin cycle downstairs and slowed to a halt done with its assigned task. I pondered the view which was rather boring by comparison to what I had seen during the week and decided despite the stiff cock in my hand I would hedge my bets, move the laundry over to the dryer and hope that nothing else would happen while I was gone. While charging down the basement stairs I was trying to think of an excuse to mosey on over after changing the loads when the walkie-talkie sprung to life again. Maybe I wouldn’t need an excuse and I was really looking forward to being a good and dutiful maid!

I pulled my upper body out of the dryer and withdrew the small electronic device from my pocket.

“I’m sorry?” I said apologetically. “I’m in the basement and didn’t hear that.”

“ . . . nother Beer Stac. . .”

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