Here is the next part of The Guiding Hand. Please let me know if you enjoy it.
The Guiding Hand
A new admirer
He did not awake with a start, but he did awake with a dampness. The dream clear and vivid in his mind. He heard Jane moving about downstairs and as swiftly as he could slipped from then bed and into the bathroom.
Minutes later a voice, came over the hiss of the shower.
“Good boy Andy”, It was Jane, he could see her perfect silhouette beyond the frosted glass. “20 minutes no longer. In my room”.
Andy paused, his head still alive with the clarity of the dream. But that was all it was and with a sigh he replied. “Yes Lady Jane”.
And so twenty minutes and no longer, Andy once more sat in front of Jane’s vanity mirror, the bottles, brushes and creams, with which he would be feminised laid out before him. It had taken little more than a towelling for his hair, to tumble back into the perfect style Ana had given him the day before so it was easy for Jane to pay all her attention to the face before her. In truth it did not need too much attention, for with his cutely shaped brows and clear flawless skin, poor Andy was now so naturally feminine all he really needed was for his femininity to be highlighted. However Jane was determined her maid would fit her idea of glamour and so, with skill she smoked and shaded his eyes, lengthening the lashes so they fluttered and flittered about his dewy eyes. Next came his lips. Again their natural feminine shape made them easy to shape and paint. This time they were the same sweet rose pink colour that still adorned his nails. Finally a dusting of rose, gave his soft round cheeks a warm, excited glow and once more Andy gazed into the mirror at the now familiar young woman. However Jane had one last embarrassment to place on him this morning. Taking up the small thin vial she twisted the top and drew out the budded tip of a lipgloss.
“Do you know what this is?” Jane asked her tone that of a school ma’am.
“Then what is it?”
“Very good boy”, Jane smiled with pride, “Very good and what is it for?”.
Andy could feel that even without the blush his face would have been glowing with shame. He took a breath. “To make lips…shiny”.
“Glossy Andy, we will use the word glossy”, Jane turned the thin brush in the light, making its tip glisten, “But whose lips is it for?”.
Andy once more lowered his eyes, he breathed slowly. “Mi…. Mine”.
“Your lips need gloss Andy? very well you had better apply some”. With that and to Andy’s dismay she offered him the little brush. For a moment he could not get his fingers, with their new long nails, to fold round the tiny brush. Fumbling it until Jane sorted them out.
Nervously he offered the wet tip to his rose lips. Jane stopped him almost deliberately drawing out his agony.
“Look in the mirror Andy”.
God that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Good, Now part your lips, that’s it. Now top lip first….”,
She watched closely as Andy nervous fingers dew the brush across his lips. Instantly making them feel heavier and wet.
“…good now bottom…..That’s it right to the edges. Mmmm very well done. Now just close your lips, That’s it and dab a little in the centre. There, wonderful that gives them a cutely kissable finish”.
Andy barely heard her words and without thought offered the tiny brush back. Jane took it and returning it to the bottle placed it on the table.
“Well done Andy. Now every hour, when you check your make up, if you think your lips are a little dry, you can retouch them from our own lipsgloss”. Jane lowered herself so her face was reflected in the mirror behind her ‘pupil’. “There, that was your first make-up lesson and when you change your make-up for this evening, I will teach you how to paint your lips. Ok?”
The sentence ended on a question the poor boy did not want to answer.
After the same of his first lesson, the dress almost came easy. The secretly hidden latex panties had kept him used to the warm aroma of the material, but the coolness and cling of the latex dress as it slide on and was buttoned into place came as a sharp reminder that Latex was a very sensual material in every way. Not only in the way it smelt, or in its texture and cling, nor just in the way it shone once polished, but also in the way it sounded as it enveloped him, stretching and fluttering, rustling and squeaking, with his each and every movement.
Once dressed with cap and apron. Jane held his hand as he stepped into the dagger like heels, instantly rising him some 5 inches from his usual height. There was that faint momentary wobble, natural to a young man, unused to feminine footwear, but as Jane stepped back, he found his posture and before her once more stood her beautiful young maid Amanda.
And so it was too her maid Jane explained the duties ‘she’ was to carry out. “The upper rooms, bedrooms, vanity and bathrooms, will be done first. Is that clear?”
Andy nodded but under Jane’s gaze, replied with a polite “Yes Lady Jane”.
Jane smiled, “No Amanda. Madam if you please”.
Andy shifted nervously on his heels, the latex hem of his tin dress, swishing in the light. “Yes Madam”
“Excellent. Then once these are complete you will do the lower floors. Kitchen first, then hall and dinning room. The conservatory and lounge will be last. Yes?”
“Yes Madam”. Andy whispered.
Jane placed her hands on her hips “And?”
For along moment Andy just stared then from nowhere he remembered and taking the hem of his skirt, bobbed his mistress and cute if slightly unsteady curtsy.
And so with a nodded approval, Jane turned from the room, but if Andy could have seen her face he would have seen it light up with the widest and most delighted smile he had ever seen her give.
For the next hour as she sat at her office desk, Jane could hear the click, click of Andy’s heels as he moved about above her.
Firstly he tidied the bedrooms, making sure everything was in place, then, as instructed, he moved on to the bathroom, again the room was not dirty or a mess and it was no problem to place every thing back in its proper place, In fact the only problem he had, through visiting every room on the upper floors was himself, or rather her new self, for, lost in the exquisite ballet of sweetly rustling rubber, lace edged petticoats and tiny steps taken on needle like heels, he began to find herself, behaving in the most blatantly girly of manners!, and no matter how hard he tried not to, he felt himself performing each movement with an exaggerated feminine grace and daintiness. And this ‘problem’ was brought to a head when, turning to replace one of Jane discarded shoes he glimpsed himself in the mirror and for the briefest of moments saw not himself but the beautiful young woman he had be transformed into. Worse Still was that in that moment the feelings he always got when he saw a pretty girl, the flutter in his stomach, that flush of heat across his body, had come over him. Indeed it took a few moments for him to re-connect with the truth but by then, he had already straightened and without thought found himself turning in the mirror as any young woman would to admire her outfit, hypnotised by the glistening outfit.
He turned and ran his hands down his body, listening to the latex crackle under his touch. He swayed his hips watching the tiny skirt float on its petticoats and gazed, not into his eyes, but into those of the very attractive girl who gazed back.
“No time for that”.
Andy jumped and tottered on his heels as Jane’s calm controlled voice broke the still. He turned to where she stood in the doorway and red faced stumbled for words. “I did not hear you M.Madam”.
“No nor I you. I thought you might have been idling”.
“No Madam….I, I was just checking, checking as you had said La…Madam”.
Jane smiled, Apart from the fact she had been summoned upstairs by the silence of his heels for 10 minutes, it was a very good reply, “Very well done Amanda and does your make up need attention?”.
For a moment Andy thought, “Um No Madam, I don’t think so”.
“Very well then, in with your duties”.
“Yes Madam”, the red faced young man replied, bobbing a surprisingly neat curtsy, before slipping passed her and on to the landing. As he passed, Jane lowered her head, gazing down at her polished fingernails with mock disinterest, but as he moved away her face once more broke into a smile of true delight. She shook her head. “How sweet”.
Time passed once more to the sound of heels, clicking on the wooden floors and by 11.30 Andy, or rather Amanda, was serving Coffee on the sunny, and thankfully secluded, terrace were Jane sat surrounded by photos and articles. However even that seemingly simple task was punctuated with further instruction from the critical lady of the house.
“No Amanda….”, she said placing her papers aside and standing to move behind him, “…when you serve, bend from the waist, Legs straight” .As he obeyed she placed her hands on the cool latex of his waist, partly supporting him and partly just to feel the smooth material. “That’s it, that’s very good, because when you bend like this, your little skirt comes up and gives everyone a little peak at your cute bottom in those sexy panties”.
Andy felt himself blush as her hand softly patted his latex encased buttocks. But his mind could not dwell on it, for at that moment the doorbell rang and any shame he felt turned to terror.
“Ah, that will be Mrs Truman”. There was a pause, a heavy pause, Jane waited and so did Andy. Both knew what needed to be done but where one was delighted the other was mortified.
“Please”, Andy said softly, he did not need to say anything more, just please.
Jane smiled. “Now, now Andy, Oh! Amanda, silly me. Don’t be shy”.
Andy looked once more into her eyes, but he knew further words would be worthless, he also understood the deliberate slip of his name.
He curtsied, “Yes Madam”.
Hesitantly Andy passed back into the house and through to the hall, Jane watching through the widow smiled as he paused before the mirror to adjust his cap and smooth his matching apron. She smiled, for no matter how he complained, femininity came so naturally to him.
With in last glance and a smooth of his shiny latex skirt, Andy turned to the door.
The caller is an attractive lady of about 60 or so, dressed in a smart and clearly expensive silk suit “Good morning”, Andy said in his softest tone, “may I help you?”.
The look on the ladies face and the pause in her words made it clear she had not been expecting to be greeted by a young maid and most definitely not by one so stunningly uniformed in gleaming latex.
“Yes”, The lady falters, “Juliet Truman to see Lady Fullerton-Jones”.
“Yes Madam, do come in”.
Andy steps aside as the woman passes and as she dose he can see her glance down at his towering heels.
“Ah Ms Truman”, Lady Jane, said emerging from the lounge, “So happy you came, please come through. Amanda, please bring us tea. Earl Grey, Ms Truman?”.
The woman nodded her pleasure and watched as Andy, dropping a neat curtsy, turned on his heels and moved to the sanctuary of the kitchen.
Leading her guest through to the warm sunlit lounge, the pair move into the conservatory.
“Your maid lady Jane does you great credit” Ms Truman said lightly, “It is so nice to visit a house were the values of proper servanting are still adhered to.”
“Why thank you, She is very new, but I shall pass on your compliment, please”, Jane smiled offering a seat.
Listening to the distant small talk, Andy, glowing with embarrassment at being seen by an outsider, took as much time as he dared in his preparation. However, fearing any upset, he finally took up the tray and with a calming breath (which did not calm), he returned to the lounge.
“Excuse me Lady Jane”.
Again Andy noticed Lady Jane’s guests eyes drift down to his polished heels as he stood awaiting instruction.
“Ah thank you Amanda, just here if you please”, see pointed to the low table between the pair and with great care he bent to place the tray. However as he did he heard a soft tut, “Remember Amanda”.
Andy momentarily looked to his smiling tormentor. Then with a polite “Yes Madam”, straightened before as instructed bent gracefully from the waist. Instantly he could feel the effects of the exaggerated movement on his skirt. He could feel it rise behind him, the full extent of his frilled petticoats revealed to form a white Halo about the polished curves of his panted bottom.
He sensed Ms Truman move in her seat and felt her eyes on him. He straightened and smoothed his apron, turning with ease on his heels.
“Thank you Amanda”, Jane smiled, happy in the display he had just given.
“I was just saying to your mistress, what a delight it is to see such an…elegant maid .How you manage in those heels I do not know”.
Andy gave a neatly bobbed curtsy of thanks.
The woman paused for a moment seemingly trying to form the next sentence without sounding to amazed. “But if you excuse me, I am sorry I have to ask, your uniform, is…..is that Plastic?”.
Andy felt himself blush as rose as his lips as the woman looked him up and down, her eyes almost afire with delight.
“No Ms Truman”, Andy drew a deep breath, “No it is Rubber”.
“Rubber?”. The woman replied her voice rising.
“Well actually it is Latex”, Jane said, her eye never leaving her blushing Maids, “A much lighter form of rubber”.
“Well bless me”, The woman could not help but stare and her gaze made the young beauty shift on his heels. “Such modern ways. But isn’t it hot, a rubber dress I mean, sorry latex dress?”
Andy smoothed his hands nervously down the dress, his eyes lowered, “A little Madam, But…but I like it. I…I mean it is easy to…to clean”, he added”. The unguarded comment made Andy raise his eyes sharply, as if trying to erase it, but the look on Jane’s face was already one of delight and pride.
“Turn round for Ms Truman Amanda, let her see you”
Andy, hesitated for a heartbeat, but then, with as much grace as his wobbling knees would allow turned on the spot, his painted fingertips holding the hem of the tiny dress.
“Well I must say it looks wonderful dear and so do you. It is so nice these days to find a young woman who takes the time to present herself so beautifully”, the woman said, her eyes still on him, “And Lady Jane, may I add you will be the envy of all our members at our next meeting”.
“You are too kind Ms Truman and I look forward to meeting all your ladies. That will be all Amanda, Oh no, no sorry, there are two bags of clothes in my den will you bring them. Thank you”.
Andy nodded and curtsied his understanding and as fast and gracefully as he could left the room.
However when he returned a minute later, the two bags in his hands his face was no longer a rose glow, but felt a cold white. For the bags he held in his hands were his. Jane held his gaze, reading the confused and horrified thought they clearly reflected. Silently she gestured for the bags to be placed beside their guest,
“Ah new stock wonderful”, Ms Truman smiled as she saw the two bags. “And thank you dear for donating them, beautiful, attentive and generous. Yes Lady Jane my ladies will want to snap your maid up and take her home”.
Ms Trumans word barely registered, only the part about donating hit home and as Andy watched, The smiling woman raised one bag onto her knee and drew the zipper along.
“Oh you do not mind my looking do you?” Ms Truman said, the zipper fully open.
Andy looked at Lady Jane; Jane looked back at him. She shifted in her seat, sitting back, crossing her long legs. She smiled. “But of cause not Ms Truman”. She purred.
Andy’s heart pounded in his chest, he could feel the sweat on his back, but he knew there was no way to stop his shame being revealed, He raised his eyes to the ceiling in silent prayer, but closed then at Ms Trumans gasp.
“Oh my”, she chirped, “Oh my these are delightful”.
Taken by surprise by her unexpected reaction, Andy as first did not react to Ms Truman’s words, but hearing a second honestly delighted gasp he opened his eyes. If there had been a slightest breeze it would have knocked him over with relief, for in her hands she held a pretty floral print dress and a delicate pale peach T-shirt, emblazoned with the word Honey. He swallowed hard, the relief flowing through him.
“Oh young lady I can not thank you enough, these are just the things we need for our little shop”.
Oddly Andy straightened with pride, oddly because, and to his relief, those were not his clothes. He bobbed a neat curtsy and glanced at the smiling Lady Jane.
Softly from the depths of Ms Truman bag there came a chime and placing the clothes back in the bag, took out her phone. She stared at the screen. “Oh dear”.
“Not a problem”, Jane asked sitting forward once more.
“Yes I am very sorry do forgive me but I need to pop back to the shop”.
Jane smiled and lightly waved her hand, “Not at all, duty calls”.
Ms Truman, closed the zipper and stood, “Quite so, Lady Fullerton-Jones”.
“Please, Jane. After all we will be very much all together from now”.
Ms Truman smiled, “Thank you then, Jane and thank you Amanda. I shall take these straight back to the shop now and have them on display by tonight”, She waggled her finger in mock triumph and as she moved passed the politely curtsied Maid she placed one hand on his arm. “You are a very pretty thing, my dear. Very pretty”.
Andy felt a strange tingle at the warm touch and thanked her with a rosed glossed smile.
From where he stood at the kitchen sink, Andy heard Ms Tremens’ car ease out from the drive and the hum of its engine drifted away down the road. For a moment there was silence, but then came the click, click of Jane heels.
“You have an admirer there, Amanda”, She smiled, moving passed him to perch on the edge of the polished wooden table and running her eyes up his slender long legs. “Yes I think you will be the talk of the Woman’s Institute”.
Andy felt himself blush as he washed the teacups, placing them to dry on the drainer. He eased the pale pink washing up gloves off. “Yes Madam”, he sighed, crossing his hands on his apron as he had been instructed.
Jane, cocked her head to one side and gave a soft snort of a laugh, “Oh Andy, do forgive me, that was very naughty of me. But you should have seen your face when Ms Truman opened your case. Oh dear, my poor little maid. You did blush”.
Andy lowered his eyes, his head one minute a mixture of panic and shock, now seemed almost calm with relief. He took a step forward. “Thank you”.
Jane smiled, “Whatever for Darling”.
“For not…. I thought”.
Jane rose from her perch and took a step toward him. Her eyes seeming to dance. She sighed “Oh But I did darling”.
Andy’s eyes rose and widened.
“I did. You see your clothes were in the other bag”, her smile widened, “It was just good luck for you she chose the other bag to open”.
Andy felt his knees tremble, All his clothes were gone, anything which connected him to the young man he knew he was, were gone. He raise his eyes, they fell into Lady Jane’s. “But..But what will I wear?” He asked.
Jane smiled, tilted her head, placed one hand on a curving hip. Then looking him up and down replied coolly. “Well, what do you think?…….young lady”.
The idea that he was now without any clothes other than to ones his captor provided played on his mind for the rest of the afternoon and captor was probably the correct term. For now, in just his sleek little maids uniform, Jane knew she could go out and not have to worry about her maid, running away.
Oh yes, Andy thought about it, he thought about it the moment she told him she would be going out with her Neighbour that very evening. He thought about it again as he listened to her car drawing out. He even thought about it when he stepped out of the front door.
But then, as he caught the lowering sun glistening on his teeny tiny black dress and reflecting up from his heels he knew it was impossible. For no matter how embarrassing it was for him in his feminised state, the notion of walking down the road, down the main street in his latex dress and heels, with his lips a glossed red and hair freshly curled, would be an even greater humiliation.
No captor was the right term and his dress was his prison.
And so over the next few days, Andy’s life settled into a strange routine and under Jane’s watchful gaze the young man he was, began to slowly melt away and each morning the young woman he was becoming, took less time to reveal herself.
Indeed over just a few days, his make-up had gone from being a heavy, if expertly applied, feminising mask, to something lighter. A look which to Andy’s embarrassment left him gazing in the mirror, not at some beautiful unknown girl, but at himself, clearly recognisable, yet still impossibly beautiful.
One thing which did not change however was his uniform. Still tiny and still Latex. It remained polished and glossy, glistening wetly in the summer sun, as he went about his duties.
However that was about to change.
To be continued….