Madame’s alarm went and i waited patiently
while she turned it off. “Would you like
a cuddle?” I carefully asked and to my joy she responded positively, spooning
into my back and saying how lovely and warm i was as her hand snaked down and
cupped my genitals snugly hidden in my panties.
In my
imagination Madame said that she didn’t have to go to work early today and that
i could massage her feet while she snoozed. No further encouragement was
necessary and slipping my gown on i moved to the end of the bed and with
massage oil at the ready proceeded to carefully peel back the covers to reveal
one of her beautiful feet.
After
massaging both feet i carefully moved up her legs until i was massaging her
thighs. This was a risk i knew, but it
seemed like a good chance. Carefully i
reached into Madame’s bedside drawer and retrieved her vibrator. First i used it on her feet and legs, working
my way back up to her pantie covered crotch.
It was so nice to touch her so intimately and i was getting quiet
excited, but she suddenly shocked me by pulling aside her knickers so her sex
was fully displayed to me – a rare and wonderful sight. Letting her enjoy the attentions of the
vibrator for a while i imagined it was a real man who was pleasuring her, but
finally i worked up the resolve to ask her if i could lick her pussy, something
i love doing, but rarely get the chance.
Madame
told me to wait while she went to the bathroom.
When
she returned she had left her knickers off and proceeded to lie down so i could
lick her precious pussy. The slight sent
of her lingering urine was a turn on, but it was soon supplanted by her juices as
they mixed with my salvia, causing me to pause and gulp down all i could. I know her juices held lots of female
hormones, but that was a risk i was more than happy to take and continued to
lap, lick and suck away until Madame had first one and then two wonderful
orgasms. Pausing i asked if i was better
at giving her orgasms than her boyfriend (my pet name for her vibrator) and she
said yes, but only with your tongue.
Sadly things had to stop there as i had
chores to perform and Madame still had to go to work. In my dressing gown i tidied up my face
before going into the kitchen where i put away the dishes, made Madame a cup of
tea and prepared her breakfast and that for the other family members including
her pets. When that was done i had my
own simple breakfast and left the family to enjoy a period of quality time.
As i ate my breakfast and checked things on
my computer i thought how lucky i was that Madame allowed me to share her
bed. It would be simple for her to put
me in the spare room or even the closet as she had sometimes teased or
playfully threatened me. Of course the
spare room would be my fate if she ever did feel like sharing her bed with a
real man, something that is of course totally within her rights. One thing i know is sissy husbands have no
rights, but that sissy maids have lots of responsibilities.
Time gets away and i am called to
service. Quickly i throw on some ugly
male clothes and perform the morning taxi service, but it doesn’t take long and
i am soon home and can attended to my chores after having a shower, carefully
shaving my little bits so they look cute and wishing i could be rid of the rest
of my nasty body hair. Still warm from
the shower i complete my exercise and stretching regime imagining that one day
i might be really supple and slender.
Today is a very special day. For a number
of reasons, one of which i won’t go in to involved the creation of a tasty
snack which i duly consumed. The most
important reason was that it was maid day.
Before Madame had left for the day i had told her it was maid day and
that i would be cleaning the house. She
said good and i am sure she knew i would be performing my maid duties as Marcia
and would be properly attired, or well i hope she did as i am. Yes, a very special reason is that i have
been told to tell my story of a day in the life of maid Marcia and of course i
can’t very well do that if i am not dressed for the part.
The only challenge is i have to write my
story while dressed as Marcia, but at the same time do all my chores. Oh dear.
How am i going to fit all that in?
Luckily there was only one load of washing
to hang out.
Rather than take my usual morning coffee
break reading a book, i took my flat white (which is my coffee of preference
when i’m Marcia as it is a cruel jibe at my flat chest, sniff. But better than having a long black... hee hee, giggle, giggle. Blush.
What am i thinking?) Oh my, it
can be hard to concentrate. Anyway,
while having my coffee i started my story.
When i was preparing the washing i noted
there was some ironing to do. There is
not much ironing, just two school shirts, so this was a treat as you can guess
who would be doing the ironing. Yes me,
maid Marcia. i must remember to tell
Madame that i have ironed them as she is sure to tease me about it in some way.
Ironing should make a good photo
opportunity and i set everything up and took a picture using the timer. When i had finished i checked the photo only
to find it was, well, rubbish. Oh
dear. Maybe a photo of me checking to
see if the washing is dry? Good idea i
thought and duly set it up. Not bad. And
yes, they are my pink panties and they were the ones that can be just seen in a
photo associated with the Sellotape task.
On the line were two more shirts and they were dry enough to iron and so
i brought one in and set up another photo.
Much better, but now i realised i had done three of the four shirts and
so i had better do the last one. Oh
my. My poor aching feet after standing
ironing for half an hour on the hard slate floor while wearing high heels... I rather enjoyed it.
Would i still say that after the vacuuming
was done? Probably the most important
task i had to do today and one i was determined to do while still appropriately
dressed. But first a bite for lunch.
One of the good things about being Marcia
is that she likes to diet. She wants to
be a skinny bitch in the kitch. This is
something that gets her in trouble with Madame who doesn’t like her losing too
much weight, so i don’t think i am every going to have a nice figure. Lunch by the way was a small sweet potato
pie, an apple and glass of water. There
was some leftover fired rice to have, but that can wait till another day.
Strangely i’m not that hungry, maybe it was
the protein shake i had earlier? It was
a real treat. I don’t know if it will be
a rare treat or a common occurrence or both.
What i do know is that it is now firmly fixed in my little mind.
Vacuuming...
It has to be done. And as i’m dressed as a maid i guess i’m the
best person to do it. “Let me be your
vacuum cleaner, sucking up your dust”.
Hmmm, best not let my little mind wander in that direction.
Oh dear this is not like me at all.
At this stage i had to stop writing and get
on with my chores as by the time i would have them finished i would have used
up all my Marcia time for the day. Thank
heavens i had another day up my sleeve, eh, in my closet. And so now i’m Marcia as secretary completing
my story, although i still has some domestic chores to complete and one
interruption to contend with.
The vacuuming was endless! Hall, study, lounge, kitchen, main bedroom,
bathroom and laundry, paying particular attention to the skirting boards which
required me to constantly bend down or crouch down to change vacuum
attachments. To top it off, and as if my
poor feet weren’t sore enough, i decided to mop the kitchen floor as well.
Afternoon taxi service and then start
dinner (asparagus soup), wash up, prepare drinks for Madame and watch some
family TV. Then it was early to bed, but
what would it be like if it was just Madame and i home alone, if say the other
family members had a sleep over at friends or something?
Madame
came home from work and commented favourably on the state of her house. With a little curtsey i said thank you and
asked if Madame would like a drink.
White wine was the order and i prepared that while Madame got changed
from her business clothes into something more casual. This is a part of being her maid i don’t
like, she is never or at any rate only briefly, ever dressed up when we are
together. She gets dressed special for
other people, but not poor little me who never gets to see her in stockings,
skirts, sheer blouses or high heels.
Never mind, i am lucky that for her casual is still pretty smart.
While
she enjoyed her wine and read her book i busied myself tidying up her clothes and
preparing dinner. Madame wished to have
soup tonight and so i picked out one i knew was her favourite. It was simple to do, but i kept to the
kitchen so Madame could enjoy some time alone which i know she really
appreciates even though i long to be in her presence.
After
serving her dinner i was surprised when she told me to wait. She had me stand by while she finished her
soup so i could take away the dish and tray, no matter that my dinner was
getting cold (although not dreadfully so as i had put the soup in a
warmer). Just standing there, waiting quietly
on this wonderful, powerful, intelligent and beautiful woman sent shivers up my
spine.
When
she was finished i was dismissed and told to take my dinner in my study, but
that i could join her later after i had washed up. “Thank you, Madame” i happily replied,
sensing that she was in a good mood and that we might have some special time
together.
Once
the dishes were dried and put away and the kitchen was all neat and tidy, i
reported back. Madame had picked a
program to watch, however she wanted me to give her feet a pedicure and
massage. i was in heaven. First i soaked and scrubbed and then licked
and sucked until her feet were lovely and clean. Then i was told to apply nail polish to her
lovely toenails, a rich burgundy colour – not to my tastes i admit, i’m a
simple bright red girl when it comes to nail polish. After a second coat had fully dried, i spent
the rest of the time until her program finished massaging her feet.
Then
it was time for bed. Madame had a hot
shower first to relax her while i put away the pedicure things and again tidied
up her clothes and got ready for bed as well (simple pink nightie). Would i get
lucky?
Just
as i was about to ask if Madame required any oral pleasure she told me that
this morning had been good, but not long enough and that i was to be a good
girl and get back to licking her pussy or anything else she might provide. Oh my, i was indeed, very, very lucky.
Madame
just relaxed as i let my lips, tongue and mouth worship her pussy until she had
one orgasm, another orgasm, a third orgasm, and... Oh i was so excited. i wish i could have one to.
Madame
turned over and raised her bottom up by dragging her legs under her, spread so
her bottom cheeks parted and let me glimpse her rose bud. i knew she expected me to kiss it, but not
just a light kiss, little flick with the tongue or even a French kiss, she
expected a good old fashioned snog. So i
did, revealing in worshipping her most divine orifice as if i had just made
first base with my childhood sweetheart and we were making out for the first
time. Oh my, i was in heaven snogging my
wife’s arsehole.
“Enough!”
Madame commanded or more correctly purred.
“Time to go to sleep.” Quickly i
rearranged the bed covers and dashed to clean my face and teeth. i so wanted to cum, but was afraid she would
be asleep before i got back. Snuggling
into bed i couldn’t help but ask “Please Madame can i have an orgasm?” i know i’m not supposed to ask, but i had to.
“Well...”
Madame said sleepily. “You’ve been a
very good maid...” Oh my, she is going
to say yes.
“But...”
she went on slowly. “Orgasms are very
special.” Instantly i agreed with her.
“And
really dear, only women have true orgasms, naughty boys just spurt and make a
mess and i don’t want you making a mess.”
“Yes,
Madame” I said dejectedly, trying to hide my disappointment, pouting for all
the good it would do me in the dark.
Then i had an idea. “But Madame,
i’m not really a boy.”
“You’re
not a man, you mean.” She interrupted, but more playful than sarcastic, i think
she knew what i was trying to say.
“Yes,
Madame, so maybe as i’m more a girl i can still have an orgasm?” Ever optimistic.
“Well,
let’s think...” The pause was
agonising. “You are a fake girl, a
pretend girl, so, you can have a pretend orgasm. A fake one!”
Madame was most pleased with herself.
She cuddled into me holding me tight so i couldn’t move. “Come on Marcia, show me you love me. Let me know you’re satisfied with our love
making by faking an orgasm. Come on,
nobody well know expect you, I will think you’ve cum, I won’t notice the
absence of a mess, i don’t mind, plus you won’t have to sleep in the wet spot.”
As Madame chuckled and cooed i moaned and groaned and did my best at pretending
to have an orgasm.
Madame’s
last words as she went to sleep were that pretends are fun and that i must do
it more often for her.
