After she had scoured all the dishes, given the kitchen a thorough cleaning and finished waxing the floors, sissy was set about the house to do a thorough vacuuming and dusting while Master did some work upstairs. Quietly and demurely, she scampered about in her maid’s uniform with a pink feather duster she herself had bought, holding it between her thumb and two forefingers as she dusted the place up and down.
”Don’t forget the blinds, sissy!” Master yelled down, as he set about hammering or drilling or some other manly art that was far beyond the capabilities of what this sissy could do, at least without chipping a nail or putting a run in her silk stockings. As she did the windows, she wondered if any passersby could see her, but then realized with a start that it was probably a bit too late to preserve any dignity now.
By the time she had finished her work and had the place sparkling, it was approaching early evening. This meant it was time to set the dinner table. Carefully she laid out the place setting, complete with white linen tablecloth, silverware, a napkin in a ring, lit candles, the works. It was a lavish affair straight out of an old movie, with the exception that the table was only set for one. After seating her Master and curtseying, she brought out a simple but elegant pasta dish that she had prepared herself. During dinner, she was required to stand to the side, refilling Master’s water glass whenever it was below three quarters full, and his wine glass if he wanted, which he signaled by tapping once on the glass with a spoon. When it was finished, Master signified his approval.
”Not bad for a first effort, sissy, but I believe in time you will learn to do even better, becoming a real gourmet cook as well as a maid. Of course I know you were limited in the ingredients you could use, but you’ll rectify that when you go shopping.”
Sissy felt her knees go weak at this thought.
”Oh don’t worry, you can have the food delivered for now, of course. We don’t want you to take any time away from your housework. If you’re lucky, I may even entrust you with the responsibility of signing for the delivery. How does that sound, sissy?”
“Sir, very good Sir,” she swallowed
”Good. Now clean up.”
Sissy curtseyed as the Master got up and left, then removed the silverware, plates, and the tablecloth, all of which were to be washed. Once she finished with this, she was allowed to have dinner herself: a small salad with cucumbers, shredded carrots, sprouts for protein, 4 croutons, and no dressing. In spite of the meagerness of her supper she was by now starving and relished each bite as if it were a porterhouse steak.
After she had finished cleaning up, Master summoned from the living room. She minced out and curtseyed deeply.
“Fetch me a drink, sissy.”-
“Sir, yes Sir.”
She curtseyed again and disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned, she was carrying a silver tray. She set it down beside him. From a small tumbler, she reached in with a pair of silver tongs and withdrew several ice cubes, dropping them in the glass. Then she began to open the can of Coke. She could feel his amusement as she struggled with the tab while wearing the long, maroon, square-tipped press-on nails which she had been ordered to put on. Finally she popped it open and poured it in, handing it to her Master.
”Thank you, sissy. How are your feet, sissy?”
“Sir, a bit sore, Sir.”
“Why don’t you kneel for a bit,” he said, pointing down at his feet. “After all, we don’t want achy feet do we?”
“Sir, no Sir,” she replied, kneeling at his feet.
”Take off my shoes,” he commanded. She began to untie his laces, but he stopped her.
“Always kiss my shoes before you touch them. Got that sissy?” She replied instinctively, by leaning forward to plant a kiss on the toe of each shoe.
”Very good, sissy.”
She then untied his shoes and removed them one by one, placing them to the side. Then the socks, which she was folded neatly and put to the side as well.
“I’m going to allow you to rub my feet sissy. Aren’t you honored?”
“Sir, yes Sir.”
”In fact, I think you should always ask to rub my feet after dinner, or whenever I return home. Doesn’t that sound like something a good little maid should do?”
“Sir, yes Sir.”
“Sir, may I please rub your feet Sir?”
Sissy proceeded to give a long, sensuous foot massage. He lay back as she rubbed and kneaded his feet on her knees. About five minutes or relaxation, he seemed to think of something and sat up for a second. Reaching down, he picked up one of his socks. Unfolding it, he put it to sissy’s lips. Confused, she puckered up to kiss it, but instead he began stuffing it into her mouth with his finger. Her eyes went wide as she tasted his toe jam and foot sweat, but continued rubbing as he sat back again, satisfied and smiling. After over an hour of this, he removed the sock.
”Stand up, sissy. I think it is time for both of us to get ready for bed. I’m taking it easy on you tonight, but you’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow.”
”Sir, yes Sir.”
Master had removed her bedroom and bathroom doors, now allowing her to be seen at all times. She was permitted to remove her uniform, sleeping in full lingerie with a flimsy, see through, ruffled babydoll nightgown. Beside her bed was an electric bell, which she would answer if Master were to need anything during the night. After turning down the Master’s bed, fluffing his pillow, and making sure Master had everything he needed, she was allowed to lock the front door, turn out all the downstairs lights, and go to bed. She tossed and turned for a bit, not used to her new sleepwear, but within fifteen minutes she was sleeping like a little girl after a full day of play, dreaming that this might happen to her...