Tricked Into Feminization

Part 16

Unfortunately, Mrs Polstead soon tired of her 'granddaughter' and missed having all the housework done so Frank was informed that he would return to being the maid the next day. He marched off clutching his petticoats ruefully. He could never have guessed how unhappy he would be having to take off his frilly dress, lacey tights and untie his pigtails.

At the end of the summer and his work experience as a maid, his mother came to visit. Frank was dispatched to bring them tea and cake. He returned with the tray, wondering how many more hours or minutes he had to be the maid.

"How has Frances performed as your maid?" his mother asked as he stood awaiting orders. "Adequately, I suppose", Mrs Polstead replied, unwilling to admit in front of him that he was a superbly obedient maid. "It does require regular use of the paddle and pink uniform to ensure proper behaviour though." "I did tell you they would be vital", his mother remarked.

"So would you like to take Frances on as your permanent maid?" his mother asked. Frank was appalled but had to stand there poker faced so as not to get into trouble. "I suppose I could live with that", Mrs Polstead replied, hiding her thrill at the idea of having Frank permanently and her beck and call. Frank wanted to cry. He had thought he was about to get out of his maid's uniform and get back to the relative comfort of being a convent schoolgirl but instead it was being made permanent!

"Permission to speak please", he squeaked. "Permission denied", Mrs Polstead responded. "There is absolutely no need to thank me. Now I think the kitchen floor needs scrubbing." Frank curtsied. "Yes Madam". Frank scampered off too afraid to disobey despite having been told he was staying on as a maid. The ladies admired his fluttering petticoats, delighted that these were now to become a permanent treat.

The following week Mrs Polstead decided to celebrate her new permanent maid by inviting a dozen friends over to dinner. She decided that she should tell them in advance the reality of the situation – that her pretty maid was actually a teenage boy who had been gradually coerced into restrictive female clothing and was now permanently trapped in his petticoats, stockings and high heels. She was pleasantly surprised that they all approved of what had happened and were keen to see for themselves.

So Frank had his busiest day ever. Greeting guests at the door with a curtsey, scampering back and forth to the cloakroom, tottering up and down the stairs to the kitchen fetching food and drinks, curtseying every time he entered or left the room and any time anyone spoke to him. The ladies loved it and they struggled to maintain a stern outward appearance whenever Frank was in the room.

"Audrey, would you check the maid's stockings are straight, they look awry to me", Mrs Polstead said. Audrey told Frank to turn around and raise his petticoats at the back so she could see. He curtsied, said "Yes Madam" and turned his back to the table. He raised his petticoats. With his back to the table the ladies permitted themselves some silent sniggers.

Audrey adjusted the tops of his stockings a little but then asked "Where do you get those pretty pettipants?" Mrs Polstead offered to check and email her the details. Audrey rummaged in her bag for a pen to write down her email address. All this time Frank remained with his back to the table holding his petticoats up and exposing his pink pettipants because nobody had given him permission to lower them.

The conversation moved on to other things and the ladies pretended not to notice Frank was still there holding his petticoats up. Eventually Mrs Polstead blurted "for heaven's sake Frances. I know you love showing off your frillies –you do it all the time – but please lower your petticoats and get on with clearing the table." Frank gratefully let his petticoats down, turned to the table and curtsied. "Thank you Madam". He was sure he caught a few mischievous grins before the ladies all managed to look stern again.