May I Serve You?

By Nina

At the age of thirteen I made a big decision. I would run away from home. My father had left us the year before and mum had taken to drink and become slovenly abusive. So one fateful day I packed a few things while mum slept it off and headed for the local underground station. As a typical young boy I had given no thought to what I would do. I had only a few shillings from my piggy bank. Twenty minutes later I stood in a London underground stop and pondered what my next move would be. Glancing out of the corner of my eye I noticed a very attractive lady in her forties smiling in my direction. Just as I realized it was I she was smiling at she approached me. In a soft voice she asked, “Are you lost? Tears filled my eyes as I said, “Yes ma’am and I am confused.” She put her arm around me and hugged me. As I hugged her back her waist was as hard as a rock, unlike mum’s or any other lady who had ever hugged me. I gave it little though as she suggested that I might like a sandwich and a Coke. Whilst we walked to a sandwich shop nearby She introduced herself as Mrs. Moore; I could call her just Addy. I told her my name was Ken. As we ate I poured out my story. She smiled softly when I finished and said, “My husband and I have a large estate in the countryside. I would love to have you stay with us until you get your life sorted out. You could earn your keep by helping out with some of the easier chores.”

My mind was made up in a flash. I accepted her offer. She sealed the bargain with a squeeze of my hand and a kiss on the cheek. After finishing our lunch we stood in front of the shop as she dialed a number on her cell phone. Within minutes a sky blue Bentley pulled to the curb. A uniformed chauffer stepped out, opened the rear door and saluted, saying, “I hope I didn’t keep Madam waiting?” Addy smiled saying, “Not at all John, you were very prompt.” I was speechless. A short while ago I was an almost penniless runaway and now I was sitting in the lap of luxury, so to speak. John edged his way through the London traffic finally leaving the big city in the mirror and reaching a country lane. A few minutes later the Bentley nosed up a winding drive and stopped in front of a manor house, the likes of which I thought existed only in the cinema.

We were greeted at door by a very pretty young maid wearing a black uniform with white lace trim and the highest heels I had ever seen. She was introduced as Yevette. Later I met Addy’shusband Keith and the butler George. That evening I ate the most fantastic meal of my life. It was served by Yevette. Meals at home had been meager even before mum went on the bottle. I was in heaven. As she served the dinner I couldn’t help but notice her tiny waist. I had just entered puberty and girls interested me greatly. It couldn’t have been more than fifty cm. around. Later I had a wonderful night’s sleep in my own room on a bed that felt like a cloud. By the end of the week I had almost forgotten the squalor I had left behind me. I rapidly became one of the family. It never occurred to me that someone couldn’t just adopt a boy off the street but I would not have cared. I learned that years ago my benefactors had lost their only son.

Weeks turned into months. This was now my home. One eventful day poor Yevette stumbled and broke her leg. She would be laid up for several months. George filled in for her answering doors and serving dinner. One morning a day or two later, Mrs. Moore, Addy, called me to her room. She met me in her dressing gown. Blushing profusely she said, “ I have a favor to ask of you. I can’t ask George, he’s a grown man and it would be even more embarrassing than asking you. I wear a corset. Yevette always helped me into it. Keith leaves for his office before I arise. I have been trying to do it myself but I just can’t do it properly”. With that she opened her gown and stood in front of me with it hanging on her. I had heard of corsets, now I knew what they were. It covered her breasts and extended almost to mid thighs. Rose coloured nylons were fastened to rows of glittery things that hung down from the bottom. The sight of a beautiful woman scantily clad excited me. She turned her back to me and removed the gown. Following her instructions I started pulling on the laces. She had me pause occasionally to catch her breath. Finally the back sections met. I handed her the laces and she tied them securely in front. “Now I feel like my old self”, she laughed. Now I knew why she felt so hard when I hugged her. Continuing she added, “Keith insists that Yevette and I wear them. At first Yevette and I didn’t care for them, now we wouldn’t be without them”. I watched, fascinated as she slipped on a short white dress that never would have fit without the corset. She said, “If you don’t mind this could be one of your ‘chores”. Mind? Try and stop me. At that point I was excused.

Lacing Addy became my favorite chore, not that I had very many. One day Keith announced that he had to host a party for some important business acquaintances and their wives. Addy panicked. “How can we host a party without a maid?” She cried. Keith suggested calling an employment agency and hiring a temporary one. After two days of calling no maid was to be found. I felt moved for poor Addy. The following day she called me aside. “Keith had made a suggestion. Do you think that you could help greet the guests and serve dinner?” In my mind I envisioned wearing formal wear and playing junior butler. Without further thought I agreed. After all they had treated me far nicer than anyone had ever done. I felt it was the least I could do. I had no idea what Addy and Keith had in mind.

The next morning after I finished lacing Addy she led me to Yevette’s room. “Do you still want to help us with the party?” “Of course. My word is my bond,” I said with a laugh (I had heard it somewhere). “I’m glad. You can back out when you find out what is involved”. With that she handed me a robe and instructed me to go to the bathroom and remove my clothes. I thought she was going to have me try on a formal dress suit. I was blushing as she asked me to turn away and remove the robe. She went to a drawer and removed a corset similar to hers. Standing in back of me she proceeded to wrap it around me. I was still excited from our lacing session and when the corset touched me a tingle swept over my body. I was going to be corseted and for some reason didn’t care. I had wondered every morning as I laced her what it would feel like to wear one. And now I would soon know. As a boy, I should have protested but I didn’t. I had come to love Addy as a mother. I had given my word and I also felt I owed them for taking me in. Besides, it would only be for the party. “Well here we go. You may actually like wearing a corset; they grow on you”. She then noticed my ‘condition’. “Maybe you like it already”, she chuckled. With that the lacing began. She drew in the laces, pausing occasionally to let me get used to it. It felt tight and restrictive and a bit painful at first. Then a warm sensation set in accompanied by another series of tingles running through me. Finally she stopped. “The corset is not closed yet. As soon as you get used to it well finish the job. It must be closed for you to fit into Yevette’s uniform. Put the robe on and let’s go down for breakfast”. Once again I should have been repulsed by the thought of wearing feminine things but strangely I wasn’t. In fact, the idea intrigued me. George looked at me questioningly as he saw the feminine robe I was wearing. Had he known what I was wearing underneath he would have been shocked.

An hour later the corset was closed and I had Yevette’s figure; a trim fifty-one cm. waist. Forms were placed in the corset cups completing the feminine image. I reveled in the feeling of being tightly laced from armpit to thigh. It’s a feeling one has to experience, it can’t be described. Since bending was at that point impossible, Addy pulled a pair of black nylons on my legs and fastened them to the suspenders, as she called them. I was given a panty girdle, “for modesty”. I had been assuming that Addy just wanted me to try on the corset and see how well it fit and study my reaction, which she observed seemed favorable. Instead she had me don a very frilly, short black slip with, as she put it, “Lots of frou/frou”. Yevette’s black uniform followed. The slip made the skirt flare out and appear even shorter, almost to my shiny suspenders. A quick glance in the mirror shook me to the bone (no pun intended). From the neck down I was Yevette. The more I looked the more fascinated I became. Addy then led me to the dressing table and within minutes had tweezed my eyebrows to a fine line. I made a minor objection. Addy smiled and said, “No one will notice and they will grow back”. Makeup of all sorts came next, followed by a medium length light brown wig. When she finished Ken was no were to be seen. I had been replaced by an attractive young girl with a fabulous figure. Black court shoes added the finishing touch. The heels were about seven cm. high and I was sure I would never walk in them. From then to lunchtime Addy gave me walking lessons. By then I was managing quite well. I presumed that I would resume being Ken before lunch. Again I was wrong. Addy led me downstairs, holding me so I wouldn’t fall because of the heels. I protested saying, “George will see me and think I ‘m weird”. “Not to worry. He is aware of the maid problem and your willingness to help out. Besides, he has known from day one that Yevette is not a girl, ‘she’ is a boy like yourself. I couldn’t believe my ears. “Keith and I do not care for girl maids. They are sassy and flighty. Then, once a month they are ‘out of it’ for a few days”. We’ve had ‘boy’ maids for years. Sadly however, by the time they come of age they fall in love with some handsome guest and get ‘married’.” I wondered if the same thing would happen to me.

After lunch Addy sat beside me. By this time I was completely used to the corset and had come to love the feeling. “I suppose you would like to be Ken again?” Before I could reply she continued, “We would like you to dress as Yevette for the next week until the party. That way you can get used to your corset and pretty things and learn to be a maid. Doing tasks in a corset and heels is not easy; speaking of which you will be wearing twelve cm. heels by party time. They will take some getting used to. Without a corset for support it’s almost impossible to walk in them”. I figured that since I rather liked being a pretty girl, a week as one wouldn’t be half bad. Besides, boy or girl, this was way better than anything I had before in my life. I was given a new name for the party; Francine. It was a pretty name and it would probably take at least a few days to get used to responding to it. George had no trouble accepting it or me as a girl.

By the night of the party it was as if Ken never existed. Francine was my name. I was used to my corset due to having worn one day and night. I even learned how to bend, tricky, but possible. I was dressed in all new things for the party, corset, black patent stiletto heels (twelve cm.) and all. By the time my makeup was applied I was radiant. As a boy, if I had met a girl who looked like Francine I would have fallen in love, even at only thirteen. The guests were fascinated by the new maid. A few that had come to know me asked about Ken, having no idea they were talking to him. Those who asked about Yevette were told she would be back in a month or so. Then it dawned on me; Francine would be around for quite a while yet. Somehow the prospect was not unpleasant. I probably enjoyed the evening more than the guests did. I drew on my memory of the few films I had seen in my life and recalled one or two that had French maids in them. I decided that I would ‘act the part’. I became a coquette. I flirted with all the males, young and old. Since they had no idea of my true age many flirted back, much to their wives’ chagrin. I made certain that whenever I bent over I was showing lots of leg. My shiny suspenders proved to be quite an attraction. My form fitting dress left no doubt in anyone’s mind that Francine was very tightly corseted, just like the proverbial French maid. Most males had never seen a live girl wearing a corset; their exposure if any was a flick at the cinema. Yet there I was in all my corseted glory. Before the night was over I lost track of the number of times I had been groped, fondled and had my suspenders tweaked by naughty hands. Sometimes I would playfully slap a curious hand but never so hard as to discourage the owner. On occasion an encounter in a hall away from the crowd the groping was, shall we say, more intense. I even received a clandestine kiss from time to time. If I didn’t resist, and I rarely did, I found myself sucking on a tongue. As a boy all of this attention should have sickened me. Instead I was relishing it, no, encouraging it. I was rapidly loving being a girl; almost. Boys have to fight to get loving, girls just have to relax and enjoy it. No one the entire evening eve suspected I was not what I seemed to be. After all, why should they? I looked like a girl, acted like a girl and above all wore an extremely restrictive corset: something no male would think of doing (?).

Sadly the evening came to an end. Some of the bolder male guests gave me a hug and a kiss if they thought their wives weren’t looking. By the time I finally retired to bed I was so emotional I took two small towels to bed with me. I left my corset and nylons on not only because I was certain I would be wearing it the next day but mainly because I wanted to. I was correct. Upon arising Addy came to my room. She was elated that I was still corseted. She asked me to dress in one of Yevette’s every day outfits. We would be going to the local village to replenish the pantry. The dress was more conventional than the party maid attire. It was a more or less conventional flowered dress with a peasant skirt. It was fitted very tightly in the waist area however, delineating my dainty corseted waist. I wore lower, seven cm. heels and nude stockings. I looked more like an average eighteen year old girl. I enjoyed the trip to the village. As I alighted from the Bentley I allowed my skirt to ride up, allowing John, the chauffer, to have an eye filling treat of my stocking tops and suspenders. As we walked about from shop to shop I reveled in the attention of the local boys. I effectively answered their compliments with a smile and, if the young man was particularly nice looking, I would run my tongue around my carmined lips as I had seen it done in the cinema flicks. That, I found, really drove them to a frenzy. I bet a lot of towels went to bed with them that night. Being a girl was not only interesting it was exciting.

I knew what Addy hoped so I remained Francine. I wore the conventional clothes during the day until afternoon tea. Then Francine, the saucy maid appeared much to Addy’s and Keith’s delight. Keith had trouble keeping his hands off of me but he did manage. From time to time I wondered what it would be like to have him hold me tightly and give me a passionate kiss. As the month progressed we had several more parties and gatherings. I continued to play the coquette much to the pleasure of the male guests. Some of the regulars became bold and tried to lure me into their beds. Of course I politely begged off, I only wanted to tease. I also knew that as a minor they could get into serious trouble plus I’m sure that if my ‘real identity was discovered they would be furious.

 I was happy for Yevette when I heard she had recovered and would be returning, but I was saddened to the point of tears when I realized that Francine’s days were ending. I reluctantly removed my corset and carefully packed Francine’s things in the back of my closet. It took several days to become accustomed to my old soft- shelled body. Addy called me aside about then and to my great joy told me they could use two maids. Within an hour I was laced, made up and and ready to go. As I served tea Addy commented, “ It was obvious to Keith and me that you rather liked being Francine but we never realized just how much you loved it. That evening after dinner as I served their brandy Addy again spoke to me. Keith and I are going on a world tour aboard the QE2. Yevette has a French visa and cannot leave Briton. If she did she could not return. Would you care to accompany us as our attendant? Would I? My heart jumped with joy at the prospect of spending six weeks on the trip of a life time and even better, as Francine. I hugged Addy and cried as I almost shouted, “yes”.

We spent the next week in London visiting all the boutiques. Addy not only bought herself numerous wardrobes but allowed me to choose many outfits other than maid uniforms for my self. By the time we returned to the manor I had more mini skirted outfits and formal gowns than I had fingers and toes. I had new corsets with fifty cm. waists. My hair had long since grown longer than most girls so new wigs we not necessary. I did have it bleached honey blond. No one would have ever guessed that I was a fourteen year old boy and not the eighteen year old girl I appeared. I may sound conceited but I looked even lovelier than before. Addy made it plain that I would be the maid during the day only when required but at all other times I would be their daughter Francine. The only duties I would have were lacing her corset and serving cocktails at parties in their suite. I had to be the luckiest boy (?) in the world.

At the parties I remained the audacious maid Francine. I flirted at every opportunity. I flaunted my corseted body at all times. I took great delight in causing unsuspecting males to ‘have a problem’. In the evenings I was the belle of the ball, so to speak. I would often sneak away with my dance partners, for whom I never lacked, to secluded deck areas and did some heavy petting, nothing more. I have no idea how many tongues I swallowed during the trip. I I don’t know who was more turned on, them or me as they would fondle my corseted body. The instant they felt my corset they would develop ‘the problem’. I was even naughty enough to press my thigh and sometimes my hand against IT. I’ll bet many a wife or girl friend had an interesting evening after that. The power a tightly corseted vixen has over a man is unbelievable. I was, to use a slang term, horny 24/7. I’m sure I used up my quota of towels. In spite of the temptation I managed to retain my virginity; why, I’ll never know.

All too soon paradise ended. John met us at the dock with the Bentley. On the way home he mentioned that he read in the post that some mother had a police bulletin out for a fourteen year old son. I thought she might have a better chance of finding me if she were to look for an eighteen year old daughter. By my wishes I remained Francine the maid when in the manor house and Francine the daughter for the rest of the time. Yevette and I got along fine without any rivalry. We began lacing each other in our corsets. Sometimes the lacing sessions became a tad steamy and took longer than usual. With Addy’s permission Yevette and I would go into London in our street attire. We made an insatiable pair, taking every opportunity to embarrass any boy that looked at us. At manor house parties we were audacious. The male guests were tormented discretely but relentlessly. The sight of two lovely, tightly corseted maids must have been mind blowing. It certainly didn’t hurt Keith’s business. I’m not sure which I like better; being the maid or the daughter. I lean toward the maid. Being able to arouse a number of males at the same time at a gathering is great sport. I intend to be the Moores’ daughter/maid as long as they will have me. That, I have been told, is my choice. Running away isn’t always the answer. In my case it was the correct thing to do. Mum never did find me; as Francine, mum never had a chance. Incidentally, the little white pills I have been taking have made the bra pads obsolete.

Now take your eyes away from my beautifully corseted derriere and shapely legs and answer my question, “May I serve you?”

The End