'Maid Service at the Phipps Estate', Snippet Three

Trucker Ray satiated, maid Maxine politely thanks him for the opportunity to please. The box is folded back up. The delivery men lift and leave. Maxine remains on her knees, awaiting her Master’s dictates, blushing in having to orally perform before a small audience.

“Many more to come, Maxine. A very good start to your duties here at the mansion. But I might add, I think I detected a little choking and the man was not overly sized,” my tone chiding.

“I’m sorry Miss Taylor, I will try harder.”

“You will... or be sent back to the clinic for a few weeks,” I warn, seeing the girly boy tremble under my authority. “This is Eve... to you Miss Eve... or Nurse Eve. She will see to your special care. And you will obey her. She is second in command,” finally introducing the glowingly smiling girl, again the pearl white teeth evidencing her enjoyment.

“Yes, Miss Taylor.”

“Greet her as trained.”

Maxine shuffles on her knees to position before the white uniformed major domo. My maid bends lower at the waist, hands remaining behind her head and kisses the feet of her young superior.

“Thank you for caring for me, Miss Eve.”

“I have not yet begun,” Eve’s voice suddenly becoming stern and commanding, falling so quickly into her role.

Maxine rights herself at the waist. Eve continues peering down assessing my prettified husband. Make up remains but is somewhat disheveled from being boxed. A coal black hand extends, smoothing over the straight locks of Maxine’s page boy. Then the arm lowers, fingers going to the right nipple.

“Your nipples, very puffy, Maxine. Do you like them looking like this?”

A finger ever so gently diddles, then moves to the left, caressing there as well. This brings the nubs to crinkle and stand, a curiously obedient response to a commanding woman’s touch. The blushing extends, goose bumps form. With the daily deluge of prolactin, the sensitivity of the glands is most pronounced.

“Very girlish,” Eve notes, so admirably stepping further into her role. “And yet you have balls... I think those are balls.”

I have not explicitly told Eve of Maxine’s forced physical transformation, taking a gamble that such would not put her off. It seems I have won my bet as she directs Maxine to rise, not at all disquieted by a girly boy bearing my trinkets.

Maxine obeys and the black hand goes to the pendants... the gonads Dr. Gehorchen so attentively ‘saved’. Fingers flick the right globe then the left, the small chiming bells hanging beneath turning my girl into a wind chime. Eve smiles, obviously repressing outright laughter.

“What happened here, Maxine? You have the testicles of a man... in plastic... and you’re made up like a girl.”

Oh the humiliation... so intense... Eve seeming to know such is key to the ongoing degradation of he who has failed me as a husband but she who will be reveling me with her servitude.

“I... I... well... there was an accident... or I... rather... well... I hurt myself... with a knife.”

“Castrated yourself... self mutilation... tsk tsk. Well you didn’t die, but easily could have. You bleed very much from the groin, Maxine. I’m sure you realize that now. You’re lucky to be alive... lucky to have an opportunity to serve... as a girl.”

Maxine glumly nods. The fingers rise to the penis, even smaller then when I last visited the clinic. Eve again diddles and flicks about the limp and useless strip of once male flesh.

“The hormones, working well?” Eve turning her attention to me. “Or has he... she... always been so limited here.”

“Both,” I reply with a snicker. “Small and getting smaller.”

Nurse Eve offers a pleasant laugh.

“Is that why you tried to make yourself into a girl, Maxine? Not able to function as a man?”

Maxine has no reply, tears seeming to form. Ah, such wonderful psychological duress. I will definitely observe her first caning. Eve seems eager to slake revenge on the male world, the transformation of Maximilian Von Webring enthuses. 

“Bath time, little girl,” Eve taking Maxine by the hand.

My new hire is marvelous, noting that the stifling box has brought a need for ablutions. I will have no worries, I conclude. As she leads out of the foyer towards the stairs, I detain her, handing over the package.

“For her daily injection, Eve,” knowing Dr. Gehorchen has forwarded a month or more supply. “Hypodermic needles in the second cabinet to the left. First cabinet to the left there’s something I want Maxine to wear for me when working about the house. Do choose a challenging size.”

The cabinet is stuffed with a collection of dildos, among other demeaning artifacts. Relieved of being anally impaled in the delivery box, I’d not want Maxine’s rectum to retract. Pamela Harrison will be perturbed if she has to work too hard to open her.