Something Sweet: Inspection
It might only be a light buffet lunch but it still required preparation. It still took time. And he’d almost been on top of things when Jane demanded that he change and tidy up before her guests arrived.
“Ready or not, here I come,” said Jane walking into his bedroom and sitting down on the stool of his vanity unit. He froze. He loved his Aunt but she still struck awe in him. ‘Sturm und Drang’ had nothing on how he felt about her. “Now darling, let me see.” He did at least appear to be dressed and ready, and he had managed to tidy most of his bedroom, although there was still a muddle of toys and cuddlies on the floor.
“It really isn’t necessary Auntie,” he mumbled in embarrassment.
“I’m afraid it is, darling, I need to check,” said his Aunt firmly. “Now come over here. I want you to look your best with the ladies coming round.”
Andy stood sheepishly in front of her. He felt flustered. He just hoped the quiche wasn’t overcooking. Now that he’d finally felt he’d mastered the Aga, he didn’t want them ruined. It was such a nuisance having to redo his make-up, but Jane had insisted on him changing out of his customary black maid’s dress into pink. And with peep-toed slingbacks, he’d even had to do his toenail varnish as well as everything else.
Pink! It was really too much. What was wrong with black? Black was traditional. Maids wore black. Black was what he wore when he was Andy the Housemaid. He’d even got used to visitors seeing him in black. And a dress. And heels. But pink was different Pink was for sissies. He didn’t mind pink when it was just him and Jane together. Pink was for their special moments together. Pink was for when he was her personal boudoir maid. A lady’s maid. She knew the effect it had on him. When he was in pink, he was hers. Not that he wasn’t the rest of the time, but pink changed things.
When he was in black, whether it be a taffeta or latex, he could pretend that he was just role playing. It might have taken him months to accept it, but he liked being a maid. Especially when he was in latex. A delicate feminine maid in latex. Black latex. He might be wearing make-up and a dress, but he could still think of it as one of their little games. Waspie corset: just part of the uniform. Translucent latex stockings: they looked so much better than nylons or fishnets? High heels: like was he really going to wear a dress without heels? It would be against nature, like wearing his latex leggings or PVC pants with a pair of flats. Of course he was going to wear stiletto ankle boots. High heeled courts or slingbacks were obviously ‘de rigeur’ with a maid’s dress: it was only polite etiquette. All totally sensible.
Yes, Black was fine. Even the white lace trimmings were fine. Hummingbird: well, only he and Auntie knew, and she did like her little treats and surprises.
But Pink was different. Pink made him vulnerable. Pink made him acknowledge his true self. Pink meant he was a girl. A boy who was a girl. A boy who wanted to be a girl. A boy who did was his Auntie told him. A boy who was subservient. A boy who acknowledged female superiority. Everything pink except for the lace trimmings and his pinnie. Even his Hummingbird was pink with a shiny pink jewel in its base. ‘Her special jewel’, Jane called it, but he wasn’t sure that was just the plug.
Aunt Jane looked him up and down. He quivered with nerves and anticipation. He felt a surge of relief that he was ready in time, and tried to stay calm as he stared longingly at his Aunt. “Yes, quite presentable,” she said. But he could smell the aroma rising from the ovens as he felt the timer go off. He began to feel different kind of surge and a strain against his latex panties.
“Auntie, I need to …..”
Jane raised a finger to her lips and he fell silent. Her finger circled in the air and then reached down to the hem of his skirt. It lingered teasingly flicking the pelmet. He gulped. His quiches might spoil. They didn’t have time for this. Not before her guests arrived? And his quiche! What about his quiche? But for Jane, his gorgeous Auntie: he could never say no. “Please, Auntie,” he uttered pleadingly, as he started to rise to the occasion.
And then she reached forward with both hands and lifted the hem of his skirt. There was no way he could hide his feelings. “Oh isn’t it sweet, just peeking out.” He took deep breaths trying to recover himself. “You know Andrew, I think this has only been happening since I put you into pink,” she observed.
“Yes, Auntie,” he said, unable to hide his embarrassment. And ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘ever since you insisted on using my Hummingbird as the oven timer.’ Bluetooth was a wonderful thing. Once Jane realised the range it had in Fullerton Towers, she’d dispensed with her bell for summoning his services. A flick of her phone and he could be with her at the merest buzz. It didn’t matter where in the house he was working. If she had an appointment, the alarm setting worked perfectly: a personal reminder service. Normal alarms and timers were dispensed with. He no longer had an oven timer, he had to ask his Aunt to set a reminder. Even the gates and front door were wired to a transmitter to keep him alert to every arrival. Different frequencies for different She liked to keep on top of all the comings and goings (but especially the cummings) at the House and, with his Hummingbird, he was perfect for the task: her fully Bluetooth enabled maid.
She made him stand and wait. The oven alert continued to go off. Surely she could hear it buzzing. He was getting desperate. He could feel the strain increase against his latex panties. It wasn’t only his quiches that were getting overheated. They’d have fully risen by now, and he was rapidly following. He lifted his arm to cover his eyes. He mustn’t look at her. That was only making things worse..If she touched him now he’d be undone. But she loved his little reactions. Her call and response.
“I can see a nice little cummie,” said Jane. “It’s so cute, Andrew. Whatever are you thinking?” She thought his ‘little cummies’, as she called them, were sweet. It was only a little leakage at this stage but his feelings were obvious. Was it her? Was it the Hummingbird? Was it both? Whichever, she could make him do it every time. Sometimes with a little contact. Sometimes with a lot, but every time without fail. “You really are a pink girlie.” She reached between his legs and patted the base of his Hummingbird. That didn’t help at all. “You’re such a jewel.” He felt something damp trickle on to his thigh. “Now if you’re going to get stiffies, I think your panties are going to have to come off.”
‘And so it begins,’ he thought.. ‘Please Auntie, please. Tell your guests we’re not at home. Tell them to come an hour later. Please!’ he wanted to blurt out but couldn’t bring himself to admit it. It would mean admitting that he was her sissy.
She continued to appraise the source of his embarrassment. “If you’re going to leak, there’s no point in getting damp panties. It’s going to trickle down your leg whichever way. And it will make it easier for your inspection.”
“Inspection?”
“Yes, inspection. The Sisterhood will want to see how you’re progressing. It’s why I wanted you in pink today.”
“The Sisterhood?”
“Yes, The Sisterhood. Who did you think was coming for lunch? They want to check on your progress. I’m still trying to convince them that you don’t need to wear one of those silly devices. They’ll be wanting to have a look, so it’ll be easier if you’re not in panties. I’ve been telling them you don’t need one so do try to be good. Some of the Mistresses are very pretty and they’ll all be in latex or leather so do try and have some control.”
“Don't worry Auntie. I’ll be OK provided I don't look you at or think about you.”
“Thank you honey, you’re so sweet. Or think about Will, I guess?”
“Yes, Will too. I won’t think about you nor Will. And please don’t trigger my Hummingbird.”
“Would I do a thing like that, darling?” his Aunt replied with a wry smile and an arched eyebrow. “Now panties off, honey. It’ll make it easy for me to see you’re getting too excited.”
“Yes, Auntie. But I do need to think about my quiches,” he said and started to scurry downstairs to the kitchen.
“Remember to get those panties off darling, please,” Jane called after him. She did hope he would do well this afternoon. The pink was having its desired effect. He would be her Boy. The Sisterhood would see that. And they could see how she treated her Boy if they wanted.
He was such a darling. What was a little leakage between friends? And there would so much more to come. Her young sissymaid would deserve his reward. But that could come tonight after her guests had gone. She’d enjoy something savoury and hot. Something more than quiche. Her little jewel.
xxxx
Andy
