Preparing for her Mistress
This sissy maid is preparing himself to serve to his Mistress. He proudly select the right clothes. He is so nervous because he really wants to please his Mistress.
"Oh, darling," cooed the voice on the other end of the phone, "you know how much I've been looking forward to this." The line was silent for a moment, filled only by the sound of the sissy maid's shallow breaths. "Make sure everything is perfect," the Mistress said with a hint of a smile.
The sissy maid hung up the phone with trembling hands. His heart raced at the thought of what the evening would hold. He had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now it was finally here. He had to be the best, most obedient sissy maid she had ever had.
He stepped into the walk-in closet, his eyes scanning the rows of meticulously organized lingerie. Each piece was more delicate and revealing than the last, but there was one set that was special. Pink lace, with matching white pantyhose and high heels. It was the outfit she had picked out for him, the one she said made him look the most feminine. Carefully, he slipped into the lingerie, feeling the cool fabric caress his skin. The heels were a challenge, but he had practiced. He had to be graceful, just like she liked.
The pink maid dress was next, the fabric light and airy. It billowed around him as he twirled in front of the full-length mirror, checking every angle. He adjusted the laces at the back, cinching his waist until it was tight enough to make him wince. His reflection stared back, a mix of excitement and apprehension. The outfit was complete, and he felt the thrill of submission coursing through him.
With a final check of the time, the sissy maid rushed to the kitchen. He had to make sure that every detail was in place. He had studied her preferences, from the temperature of the wine to the way she liked her salad tossed. His hands moved deftly as he plated the meal, arranging each morsel with the precision of an artist.
The doorbell rang, and he felt his stomach flip. This was it. He took a deep breath, smoothing down his dress and straightening his apron. He glanced around the room one last time, making sure everything was perfect. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
He opened the door to find his Mistress standing there, looking more beautiful and powerful than ever. She wore a black leather corset that pushed her breasts up and out, a stark contrast to his own soft, bound chest. Her eyes swept over him, and he felt the weight of her gaze like a warm caress. "Welcome home, Mistress," he said, his voice high and eager.
Her smile was like a whip crack, sending a shiver down his spine. "Good evening, my dear," she replied, stepping inside. The sound of her stilettos echoed through the hallway as she made her way to the living room. He followed her, his eyes on the sway of her hips. She took a seat on the velvet couch, her legs crossed and her hand outstretched. "Come here," she ordered, and he practically floated over to her.
Kneeling at her feet, the sissy maid felt her hand stroke his hair, a gentle yet firm reminder of his place. "You look stunning tonight," she said, her voice like silk. "But we mustn't let your hard work in the kitchen go to waste. Serve me my drink, and then we'll see if dinner is up to my standards."
He took the glass from the tray and handed it to her, his hand shaking only slightly. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving his. "Mmm," she hummed, "perfectly chilled." The praise made him glow from within. He knew he had done well, and it was just the beginning.
As he went to fetch the wine, his mind raced with all the other ways he could serve and pleasure her. The evening was full of promise, and he was ready to be put through his paces. The thrill of the unknown only made him more eager to prove himself.
When he returned with the wine, she was already inspecting the dinner. She took a bite of the roast chicken, and he watched her reaction, holding his breath. "Exquisite," she murmured, setting the fork down with a delicate clink. "You've truly outdone yourself tonight."
The sissy maid felt his cheeks burn with pride. "Thank you, Mistress," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Now, let's see what else you can do," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. He knew then that the real test was about to begin, and he was more than ready to face it. The evening would be a dance of dominance and submission, and he would follow her lead, no matter where it took them.
The sissy maid hung up the phone with trembling hands. His heart raced at the thought of what the evening would hold. He had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now it was finally here. He had to be the best, most obedient sissy maid she had ever had.
He stepped into the walk-in closet, his eyes scanning the rows of meticulously organized lingerie. Each piece was more delicate and revealing than the last, but there was one set that was special. Pink lace, with matching white pantyhose and high heels. It was the outfit she had picked out for him, the one she said made him look the most feminine. Carefully, he slipped into the lingerie, feeling the cool fabric caress his skin. The heels were a challenge, but he had practiced. He had to be graceful, just like she liked.
The pink maid dress was next, the fabric light and airy. It billowed around him as he twirled in front of the full-length mirror, checking every angle. He adjusted the laces at the back, cinching his waist until it was tight enough to make him wince. His reflection stared back, a mix of excitement and apprehension. The outfit was complete, and he felt the thrill of submission coursing through him.
With a final check of the time, the sissy maid rushed to the kitchen. He had to make sure that every detail was in place. He had studied her preferences, from the temperature of the wine to the way she liked her salad tossed. His hands moved deftly as he plated the meal, arranging each morsel with the precision of an artist.
The doorbell rang, and he felt his stomach flip. This was it. He took a deep breath, smoothing down his dress and straightening his apron. He glanced around the room one last time, making sure everything was perfect. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
He opened the door to find his Mistress standing there, looking more beautiful and powerful than ever. She wore a black leather corset that pushed her breasts up and out, a stark contrast to his own soft, bound chest. Her eyes swept over him, and he felt the weight of her gaze like a warm caress. "Welcome home, Mistress," he said, his voice high and eager.
Her smile was like a whip crack, sending a shiver down his spine. "Good evening, my dear," she replied, stepping inside. The sound of her stilettos echoed through the hallway as she made her way to the living room. He followed her, his eyes on the sway of her hips. She took a seat on the velvet couch, her legs crossed and her hand outstretched. "Come here," she ordered, and he practically floated over to her.
Kneeling at her feet, the sissy maid felt her hand stroke his hair, a gentle yet firm reminder of his place. "You look stunning tonight," she said, her voice like silk. "But we mustn't let your hard work in the kitchen go to waste. Serve me my drink, and then we'll see if dinner is up to my standards."
He took the glass from the tray and handed it to her, his hand shaking only slightly. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving his. "Mmm," she hummed, "perfectly chilled." The praise made him glow from within. He knew he had done well, and it was just the beginning.
As he went to fetch the wine, his mind raced with all the other ways he could serve and pleasure her. The evening was full of promise, and he was ready to be put through his paces. The thrill of the unknown only made him more eager to prove himself.
When he returned with the wine, she was already inspecting the dinner. She took a bite of the roast chicken, and he watched her reaction, holding his breath. "Exquisite," she murmured, setting the fork down with a delicate clink. "You've truly outdone yourself tonight."
The sissy maid felt his cheeks burn with pride. "Thank you, Mistress," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Now, let's see what else you can do," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. He knew then that the real test was about to begin, and he was more than ready to face it. The evening would be a dance of dominance and submission, and he would follow her lead, no matter where it took them.
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