Archive-name: Changes/gretchen.03

Archive-author: Amelia Allbyte

Archive-title: On Becoming Gretchen - 3





Chapter Three



When Miss Irene left me, I made a quick check and my suspicions

were confirmed. There was steel under the wood finish of the crib

and the locks, although quite inconspicuous, were solid and

secure. There was no way these were going to be opened without

the key. I just wasn't going anywhere until Miss Irene came and

released me.



I tried to sleep but the bed was new to me, the surroundings

strange, and I was unsure of my fate. I would doze off, suddenly

come awake, then repeat the process. I guess I finally dropped

off because the next think I knew, I awoke and found Miss Irene

smiling down at me.



"Good morning, Gretchen. Did you sleep well? I'm glad you like

Toto. Most young girls like a cuddly animal to sleep with. I'm

glad you're adjusting so well."



Glancing down, I noticed that the bear was snuggled up against my

fully-padded bra. Embarrassed, I put it aside and climbed out of

the crib.



Releasing me from the 'chastity device', she handed me a robe

that matched my gown and made me step into a pair of backless

mules with about a two-inch heel and a large bow on the toe.



After you clean up, you may go to the kitchen and fix my

breakfast. I would like one egg fried, sunny side up, two slices

of bacon, not too crisp, cinnamon toast, orange juice, and

coffee, black. You may serve me in the dining room."



She then turned and walked off.



Shrugging my shoulders, I did as she bade. It felt kind of funny

washing up without having to shave. I felt my face and it was

still as smooth as a girl's.



It took me a while to get used to the shoes, and when I got to

the kitchen, to find all the stuff. I finally succeeded. While I

was at it, I fixed myself a couple of eggs, some bacon, and

coffee. I brought both plates in and set them on the dining room

table.



I found Miss Irene in the den and called out, "Soup's on, ma'am."

She turned and looked at me coldly. "You are to address me as

Miss Irene. You will also make your announcements much more

respectable in the future."



"Yes, Miss Irene. Your breakfast is ready in the dining room." I

don't know why I knuckled under so easily. I knew she could whip

me physically, but it was more than that. She just seemed - well,

superior. She deserved to be waited on.



She went into the dining room and saw both plates of food.

"What's this? I didn't order all that!"



"Why, I just fixed some for myself. I figured we could eat

together."



"Eat together? Why, the maid eats in the kitchen. But for being

so presumptuous, you shall eat that here today, that food." She

pointed. "On the floor. But first you will serve me."



So I stood behind her as she ate, refilling her coffee cup or

whatever else she wanted. When she was through, she motioned for

me to clear the table of her dishes, but stopped me when I

started to remove the food I had fixed for myself. She dawdled a

while, sipping her coffee, looking at her fingernails, just

taking her time. Finally she said, "All right, Gretchen, you may

eat," and swept the food, plates and all, onto the floor.



I looked at her, then at the food on the floor and started to

pick it up. She stopped me. "No, Gretchen. You eat off the floor,

with your hands behind you. I can get the handcuffs if you feel

it necessary."



So for the second time in as many meals, I ate off the floor.

Also, I was learning an important lesson. Don't presume.



After trying to eat as best I could, she finally stopped me and

told me to clean up the floor and then the kitchen. She then left

me and went into the bedroom.



I had no sooner finished getting things cleaned up and put away,

when she called out, "Gretchen! Come here!" Obeying, I went into

the bedroom.



She was dressed completely in a black one-piece garment that

covered her completely and concealed nothing. It was very thin

leatherlike material that looked more like it was sprayed on

rather than conventionally dressed. Her breasts jutted out

boldly, her nipples firm and erect. Her stomach was taut and

lean, her belly button plainly visible. The material plainly

outlined the thick lips of her vagina at the crotch, actually

emphasizing her femininity rather than concealing it.



Every line, every tendon in the long tapering legs showed through

the material and accented every little movement she made. Her

feet were covered by a pair of black suede ankle-high boots with

at least four inch heels. In one hand she held a quirt, idly

slapping it into the palm of the other. The pale hands and bright

red fingernails were in sharp contrast to the dull black of the

ominous-looking braided leather quirt.



Her long black hair framed her pale ivory face. When she smiled,

her small white even teeth appeared in starling contrast to the

rich, succulent, deep red lips.



She was indeed lovely! She was seductive! For the first time I

realized what a male spider must feel when he approached his

potential black widow mate. Anything, ever=n, death, was

acceptable in return for a tryst. One union with this delectable

creature was worth life itself!



Miss Irene, however, did not have sex, or at least the kind I was

thinking about, on her mind. She was fully intent on domination,

training me to be the perfect maid. The conception of bending a

male to her will, to make him obey and tend her at every beck and

call was a sexual triumph for her. I noticed a small wet spot

appear at her crotch when I came in with bowed head and said,

"Yes, Miss Irene."



"On your knees and kiss my feet, then we'll discuss your

training."



I obeyed. It seemed right and natural that I should obey this

lovely and imperious creature. I did so, not only kissing her

feet, but abjectly licking her shoes. As I did, I could feel my

own sex pressing against my panties with my act of submission.



"All right, Gretchen, on your feet. I didn't mean for you to

slobber all over my boots."



When I arose and stood before her, she looked at me. She suddenly

raised the robe and saw my arousal winning its battle against the

smooth nylon panties.



Without a moment's hesitation, she lashed out with the quirt.

Twice she slashed at my unprotected genitals. Any idea that my

poor cock had of being useful was dashed. My erection flat

disappeared.



"You will not get and erection or even become aroused unless

permitted," Miss Irene stated, still holding my nightgown up and

watching my genitals disappear into my panties.



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