Working For A Boutique - Part 4

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On Monday of the last week in June, she was waiting for me at the time clock. As I walked up to her, I had an uneasy feeling. Usually, when she needed to talk to me, she left a note on my time card or sent it for me. This had to be real.

"Danny, the newly appointed district manager, is coming for the weekend. She will be flying in from the west coast on Friday night. I will pick her up and take her to her hotel. The next morning, she will be coming here for a tour of the store, after which I will take her out to lunch, and then we will come back to my home for coffee. I felt it would be more relaxing to discuss business in the comfortable surroundings of my home than here at the office."

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"Well, my secretary Anne is on vacation this week, and I need someone to help me serve my guest. Ms. Verdot is a very discriminating woman and appreciates elegance and the finer things in life. Like myself, she has worked hard and got where she is by being smart and making the right decisions. Many of her ideas, particularly emphasizing femininity in our line of products, have been incorporated into the stores, and the excellent results they have achieved did not go unnoticed, hence her promotion here to manage our twelve Midwest outlets. Now, I do appreciate your help in the past, and I am certain you won't let me down."

"I don't know anything about serving," I replied.

"That's all right. Jean will fill you in on what you will be required to do. Oh, by the way, a costume and makeup is required. Jean will help you with that too. There's not much for you to do tonight, so when you are finished, see Jean at the rear of the loading area."

With that, she turned and left.

Oh boy, I thought. Now what had I got myself into? I went to work and finished up at eight, then walked to the back where Jean was waiting for me.

Jean smiled as she got up from her chair and put down the magazine she had been reading.

"Sit down and take off your shoes and socks."

After I did so, she handed me a pair of knee-high nylon stockings. "Same drill as before. Put these on and then the pumps."

I put the stockings on and picked up the first shoe to discover these black leather pumps had five-inch stiletto heels.

"Wow, I don't know about these," I said as I slipped one on.

"Don't be silly, Danny. You had no trouble going from three-inch pumps to four. Why be concerned about these? It's just another inch. Besides, I know you don't want to disappoint Ms. LaRue."

I slipped the other pump on and walked to the small conveyor. Jean started the motor, and I began walking. This was entirely different. I would have to be more precise in my movements.

"Take smaller, more mincing steps. Keep your elbows in and hold your arms across your body with your hands dangling effeminately at the wrist."

I adjusted my stride and brought my arms in, and let my hands dangle. "That's it! Now keep going."

I continued my girlie walk for the next thirty minutes.

"That was very good, Danny," said Jean as she shut off the machine. I walked back to the chair and sat down.

"Take the stockings and pumps with you. Practice for about thirty minutes twice a day.

By the end of the week, I'm sure you'll be used to the new height. Remember, smaller mincing steps and keep your elbows in and your arms across your body, understand?"

"Yes," I said.

"Good. After work, this Friday, take a hot bath and shave. Saturday morning, shave your face again and be at Ms. LaRue's house at 11 AM sharp. I'll take care of everything else when you arrive. You can punch out and go home now. See you Saturday at eleven."

She smiled again as I left.

I didn't have much to do that week with school out of session. Tuesday, I did laundry and cleaned the place up a bit. Wednesday, I went to a nearby mall and walked around, trying to sort things out. In a way, I resented being used like this, but on the other hand, it was a seemingly harmless way to make some extra money.

Thursday, I changed the oil and filter on my car, gassed it up, drove it through a car wash, and then vacuumed it out.

Friday after work, I ate a light supper. After a hot soak, I shaved again and then stepped on the scale. I was relieved to find I was back to 134. I watched some TV, and then after another thirty minutes of walking around in heels, I went to bed.

Saturday morning, I got up late, and after shaving my face again, I got dressed. I read the paper, then about ten o'clock, I grabbed the box of pumps and left.

Ms. LaRue's home was on the opposite side of town, and it took about forty minutes to find it. I parked out front behind Jean's Chevy, leaving the driveway open for Ms. LaRue's car.

As I walked up to the door, I noticed the lawn was immaculately groomed; the hedge and bushes had been trimmed to perfection. I rang the bell. Jean opened it and smiled that big smile of hers.

"Hi Danny, come right in."

I stepped inside. The interior of the house was tastefully decorated. Everything was neat as a pin. Elegant was the perfect word to describe it.

"Follow me," said Jean as she shut the front door.

I walked behind her through the combination living and dining room. We turned left, and she led me into one of the smaller bedrooms of the three-bedroom, two-bath ranch-style house.

On the bed were a lacy black bra, a matching pair of black nylon tricot panties, a garter belt, and a pair of fishnet stockings.

"Put those on, and I will be right back."

I stood still for a minute, contemplating how I had gotten into this. It would do no good to complain now. I sat on the bed and removed my sneakers and socks. I stood up and undressed, placing my clothes on the bed.

I picked up the panties and put them on. The cool softness of the tricot felt good against my skin. Next, I stepped into the garter belt and brought it up to my waist. I rolled each stocking down, slid it over my foot, then smoothed it up to my leg and secured it at the top with the garter. The stockings also felt wonderful against my smooth-shaven legs. I had just put my arms through the bra straps when Jean knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Jean entered the bedroom and fastened the hooks in the back. She removed the breast forms from the vanity table, inserted them into the cups, and then adjusted the straps. She stepped back and looked me over.

"That looks about right. Sit at the vanity; your makeup is next."

I walked over to the vanity table and sat down. Jean turned on the small lights at the top and both sides of the vanity's mirror.

"You will do your own makeup this time. Ms. LaRue feels it's about time you learned how to make yourself up."

"But I've never done this before," I protested. "I don't know anything about makeup." Jean smiled. "That's why you're doing it today. Now pay attention and follow my instructions.

Sit closer to the mirror."

I slid the chair in as far as I could.

"Pick up the tweezers first. Look closely in the mirror, and you will see a few stray hairs around your brow line. Grasp the hair at the base and pull straight out."

I did as she instructed and was surprised at how much it hurt.

"Now, keep doing that until the brow line is clean. Fortunately, you don't have thick eyebrows, so you won't have much to do."

When I finished, I put the tweezers down, and she handed me a scissor-like device. "Open this up and place it close to the edge of your eyelid and squeeze, then move it out a little and squeeze again."

When I finished, I saw my eyelashes had a definite feminine curl. "OK. Open that small box in front of you."

The small box contained several palettes of eye shadow and a small brush.

"Take the brush out and swish it around in the gray palette, then brush it on your eyelids starting from the nose and work outwards towards the corners of your eyes."

I did as she instructed. "That looks pretty good."

She took the brush from my hand and touched up each eyelid, then replaced the brush in the box and closed the lid.

"Your blusher is next. Use this larger brush and the red palette from this box."

I opened the box to find four palettes inside. I moved the brush over the palette. "Start in the middle of your cheek with small circles and work outward."

I did the left cheek, and then after dabbing a little more of the powder on the brush, I did the right. She took the brush from my hand and, after adding a few deft strokes of her own, she replaced it in its holder and closed the lid of the blusher box.

"These are lip pencils. Open your mouth wide and outline your lips first."

I took the pencil from her hand and drew the line around my mouth. I handed her the pencil when I finished, and she handed me lipstick and a lipstick brush. I removed the cover of the lipstick and turned the base to raise the tube.

"After putting some on the brush, look in the mirror as you fill in your lip outline."

It took several applications before the job was completed. "Now press your lips together to smooth the makeup evenly."

When I finished, she was smiling again. "Nails are next."

She opened a package of press-on nails and removed the sheets inside.

"There are several different sizes for each finger. Match up each one, remove the adhesive tab and press them on your nails. These are called French nails, by the way."

I examined the sheets and began removing the nails, checking each one against my finger before attaching them to my own nails. When I finished, she placed a nylon wig cap on my head and removed a black wig from its display head. She handed it to me.

"Start at the front when you put it on."

When I finished, she placed her hands on the wig and checked for fit. Next, she pinned a white maid's cap to the top. From the jewelry box, she removed a pair of clip-on earrings about four inches long.

"You should really have your ears pierced. Even guys are doing it today, you know, but these will do for today."

I cringed at the thought of someone puncturing my earlobes as she clipped the earrings on.

"Stand up, and I'll help you into your costume."

From the closet, she brought out two small white petticoats on separate hangers. She

unclasped the hangers and placed one petticoat inside the other, then handed both of them to me.

"Put these on, and I'll get your dress."

I stepped in the petticoats and brought them up to my waist. She unzipped a black satin puff sleeve French Maid's minidress and removed it from the hanger. She held it up by the hem. I slipped my arms thru the puff sleeves, and she helped me smooth the dress down over the petticoats. I turned around, and she zipped up the back and closed the small hook at the top. Last, she placed a white nylon tricot apron around my waist and tied it in the back with a large bow to complete my ensemble.

"Now, put on your pumps and take a look in the mirror."

I put on the five-inch stiletto heels as she closed the closet door. I walked over to see my reflection in the full-length mirror and was quite amazed at what I saw.

"Super!" Jean exclaimed as she stood behind me and attached a frilly choker around my neck.

"You are one lovely French Maid, Danielle, Now let's go to the living room, and I will tell you what to do next. Remember to take small mincing steps. Don't be in a hurry; that's how you trip and fall, and we don't want that, do we?"

"No, we certainly don't," I replied."

Once we were in the living room, Jean sat down on the davenport.

"I want you to walk back and forth between the kitchen, dining room, and here several times. Remember your posture and keep your elbows in, arms across your body, and hands were dangling at the wrist. Being feminine isn't enough; you must be overly effeminate. Ms. Verdot will be watching for this, and we want to give her a good impression, don't we?"

"Yes, Jean, we do." "Good. Get started."

I began my walk to the kitchen. I came back, walked around the dining room table, then stopped in front of Jean.

"Very good, now make several more trips until I tell you to stop."

I took my time and made sure each step I took was prim and proper. After the fourth trip, Jean held up her hand to stop me.

"You did fine. Now stand closer in front of me. Do you know what a curtsey is?" she asked.

"I think so. You put one leg behind the other and sort of squat down and then stand up again," I answered.

She smiled. "Watch me."

She stood up and went thru the motions of a curtsey as if she were wearing a dress. "Now, you try it."

I was a bit awkward on my first attempt. My next effort got an "almost," and the third try got her to smile.

"That last one was the best. Now walk around like you did before, only this time when you get back to me, curtsey, then turn around and make another trip and so on."

I turned and made four more trips out and back, each time curtseying when I had completed each trip.

"Very good, Danielle, you've got it! Now when the women get back, they will enter the house. You will curtsey and greet them with 'Good afternoon ladies, did you have a nice lunch?' Ms. LaRue will introduce you to Ms. Verdot, and you will curtsey again and extend your right arm with the right hand dangling at the wrist.

"When Ms. Verdot takes your hand, give her a wet dishrag handshake and tell her you are pleased to meet her. Let Ms. LaRue take it from there. You will speak only when spoken to.

Don't forget to address them by name or use 'Madame.' You will curtsey each time you appear before them and again when you leave their presence. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good, now follow me into the dining room."

She opened a bottom drawer and took out a white tablecloth. "Stand at the other end and help me cover the table."

After unfolding it, we both held it up and set it down, making sure there was an equal amount hanging over each side.

"There is a bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. Please bring it in here and set it down in the middle of the table. You should start curtseying now, so it gets to be a habit."

"Yes, Jean."

I curtseyed and walked to the kitchen, brought back the flowers, set them down, and then curtseyed again.

"Very good, you learn quickly," she said as she opened the doors to the china closet. "Set this cup, plate, and saucer at the other end."

"Yes, Jean," I said as I curtseyed and took the dishes to the opposite side of the table and set them down.

From the top drawer of the china closet, she removed two forks and two spoons. She handed one of each to me.

"Set the fork on the left of the plate and the spoon on the right."

"Yes, Jean," I said as I curtseyed and took the silverware to the other side and put each item in its' proper place.

"There, we're all done here. Follow me into the kitchen."

"Yes, Jean," I curtseyed again and walked behind her to the kitchen. She handed me two cloth napkins.

"Place these under the forks and come back here."

"Yes, Jean," I curtseyed again and took the napkins and placed them where she wanted them. This was getting tiresome. I walked back to the kitchen, where she was pouring boiling water in a silver coffee pot.

"This will keep the pot warm until the coffee is made. When they are ready for coffee and cake, come back here, and I will dump the water out and fill it with coffee and place the silver pot on the cart between these two cake pans. The chocolate and lemon cakes you see in these two pans have been cut into squares. After choosing the one they want, pick up their plate with your left hand and remove a piece of cake with this utensil in your right. Deposit the cake gently on the plate and set it back in front of them.

Keep the plate level because you don't want it sliding off, especially on somebody's lap. Then pick up the saucer and cup with your left hand and the coffee pot in your right and pour the coffee into the cup but leave about a quarter-inch of space at the top in case they may want to add cream or sugar.

"This small pitcher holds the cream, and the sugar bowl is next to it. When you add cream, pour a little into the cup. If she wants more, she will say so. With the sugar, remove the spoon from the bowl and shake it level, then let it fall slowly into the cup. Don't just dump it in. I will be in the kitchen and will coach you if there are any problems. Other than the things I've covered, is there anything else you think you need to know?"

"No, Jean. I think I'm ready."

"All right, let's go into the living room and wait for their arrival."

"Yes, Jean," I replied as I curtseyed and followed her into the living room.

"It's nearly one. They should be here around two-thirty, so we may as well watch some TV. Sit here on the couch with me, and don't forget to smooth your skirts when you sit down."

"Yes, Jean," I said as I curtseyed again and turned to sit down, smoothing my minidress as I did so.

"This will be the only time you will be allowed to sit down. A maid always stands nearby, just out of sight. There is a small bell on Ms. LaRue's side of the table. When she wants you, she will ring the bell. Be prompt and remember to curtsey when you enter and again when you leave."

Jean flipped the remote on and found an hour-long special on the history of fashion. I closed my eyes and wished the day was over. I wasn't tired, so sleep was impossible. The hour dragged on until I heard Ms. LaRue's car pull into the driveway. Jean shut off the TV and headed for the kitchen. I stood up and walked towards the front door.

"Check yourself in the entryway mirror before they come in," said Jean over her shoulder.

I looked at the pretty French Maid staring back at me and was satisfied with the way I looked as the women entered the house.

"Good afternoon ladies, did you have a nice lunch?" I inquired as they came in. "Yes, it was quite nice, thank you," said Ms. LaRue. "This is Danielle, my maid. She will be serving us shortly. Danielle, this is Ms. Verdot, our new district manager."

I curtseyed politely as I extended my arm and gave her a limp handshake. "I'm pleased to meet you," I said as I withdrew my hand.

"We'll sit in the living room awhile to discuss business. When we are ready for coffee, I will ring for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

I curtseyed and went into the kitchen. Jean was sitting at the table sipping coffee. "Go ahead and help yourself; there are cups on the counter."

I took one and filled it half full of coffee. I never cared for coffee, but it was something to do. I sat down at the table.

"You should hold the cup by the handle with your thumb and forefinger and your little pinky extended like this."

I looked at her hand and then did the same with my own. "It's considered very lady-like; if a man held his cup that way, he'd be considered effeminate."

After about forty-five minutes, I heard the bell. Jean motioned me to get up. As I stood up, I brushed my hands over my dress and petticoats. I walked into the dining room, where the two women were now seated at the table.

"Yes, Ms. LaRue, how may I serve you?" I said as I curtseyed. "We shall have our cake and coffee now, please."

"Yes, ma'am." I curtseyed and walked back to the kitchen.

I pushed the cart forward and stopped at Ms. Verdot's end of the table first. I curtseyed and said, "Would you prefer chocolate or lemon cake, Ma'am?"

"I'd like the lemon, please," she answered.

I picked up the plate from in front of her, placed a piece of lemon cake on it, and then put it back down on the table. Then I picked up her cup and saucer. After filling the cup three-quarters full, I set the pot down and asked, "Would you like cream or sugar?"

"Just a little cream, please," she answered.

I picked up the pitcher and poured a small amount in the cup, and placed the cup and saucer back in front of her. I backed the serving cart up to where Ms. LaRue was sitting.

"Which cake do you prefer, Ms. LaRue?" "I'd like the chocolate, please."

I took the plate and placed the cake on it, and set it back down in front of her. I picked up her cup and saucer and poured the same amount of coffee in her cup, and set the pot down. "Would you care for cream or sugar?"

"No, thank you. I prefer my coffee black." I set the cup and saucer in front of her. "Would either of you care for anything else?"

"That will be all for now, Danielle. I will ring for you again when I need you." "Yes, ma'am." I curtseyed and pulled the cart back to the kitchen.

Jean was holding her thumb and forefinger in a round circle to indicate an "OK" sign.

She placed one finger up to her mouth to shush me.

"Speak softly," she whispered. "They won't belong. I saw the schedule. She will be leaving early in the morning and wanted to wrap everything up as early today as possible to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow."

I pushed the cart next to the cupboard and waited patiently for the sound of the bell. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but they spoke so softly that, except for one outburst of girlish laughter, I couldn't hear what they were discussing.

It was an agonizing thirty-five minutes before the bell rang again. I walked back into the dining room, stood before Ms. LaRue, and curtseyed.

"Yes, Ms. LaRue, how can I serve you?"

"We're finished. I will be taking Ms. Verdot back to her hotel. Please clear the table.

Wash and dry the dishes and place them back in the china closet." "Yes, Ma'am," I answered.

I curtseyed and went back to the kitchen. I retrieved a tray and brought it back to the dining room. As I picked up the dishes from the table, the two women left the house and got into the car.

Back in the kitchen, I helped Jean wash and dry the dishes. When we were finished, we placed them back in the china closet and removed the centerpiece from the table. We folded up the tablecloth, and Jean tossed it down the laundry chute along with the two cloth napkins.

"We're done!" she announced.

I followed her back to the bedroom. She removed the choker first, untied the apron, then unhooked and unzipped my dress. I slipped it over my head, and Jean put it on a hanger. Then I slid the two petticoats down to my ankles and stepped out of them. Jean placed them back on their respective hangers as well.

"Take off your shoes and sit at the vanity. I'll show you how to remove your makeup." I removed the stiletto pumps and sat down.

She explained how to use the eye makeup remover. When I had finished, she took the lid off a jar of face cream.

"Smear this on your face and then wipe it off with a tissue." I did as she instructed. "That looks good. I think you got it all."

I removed my earrings and press-on nails. After Jean unpinned the maid's cap, I removed the wig and wig cap and placed the wig on its foam head. Jean stepped out while I unhooked my fishnet stockings, rolled them down, and took them off. I slid my garter belt and panties down and put them on the bed with the stockings. After dressing in my male clothes, I walked back to the living room where Jean was waiting for me.

"You did a great job, Danny. Ms. Verdot left this for you."

She handed me a white envelope. I opened it up, and inside was a note and a hundred-dollar bill. The note, "You are an outstanding servant.

I'm looking forward to using your services again." Her handwriting and signature was as elegant as she was.

"Let's go, Danny. Ms. LaRue said you can have tomorrow off, so I'll see you on Mon- day."

We walked out the front door, and she locked it behind us.

I was greatly relieved that this day was finally over. I stopped by a fast food place but decided to try one of their large salads instead of ordering a greasy meal. I was more tired than I thought; after a hot shower, I went to bed early.

Sunday, I read the paper and didn't do much else. I began thinking about the things that I had done so far. As much as I liked the money, I was concerned about how I was slipping more and more into feminine roles, subservient feminine roles at that. I wanted to hang on to my job, but this craziness had to end.

It was scary to think how, once I was dressed and made-up, I became a girl for all intents and purposes. I found it difficult to understand why, when I was "en femme," my male feelings were overridden with the pleasure of acting feminine, to say nothing of the way I loved the touch of nylon, satin, or chiffon against my smooth hair-free skin. I certainly knew who I was and what side of the gender line I was on. I had never been attracted to men and, though I had only one sexual experience so far, I definitely was heterosexual.

When I walked out on the runway, I not only got an erotic kick from the clothing but there was a sense of power. I was in control. Even as a maid. My performance had fooled Ms. Verdot. As a servant, I had used my femininity to give the impression that they were in charge and I was just an underling. However, I had controlled the situation and performed exceptionally well. Maybe I could use this talent, if you could call it that, to further my employment position or at the very least enhance my bank account a little more, as Ms.Verdot had done.