Smiling maid

A maid of a severe but good Mistress could smile when she is doing her chores, unless her Mistress orders her not to.

He padded over to the closet and slid open the door. Inside, neatly organized, hung an assortment of clothes that were not his own. They were the garments of a woman—his Mistress's garments. He had been tasked with taking care of them, ensuring they remained pristine. The scent of her perfume, faint yet unmistakable, filled the space. He inhaled deeply, feeling a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of fear. His day was about to begin.

The clothes were not merely a chore but a ritual, a transformation. He reached for a pair of silk stockings, running his fingers along the smooth fabric. Each article of clothing held a story, a memory of his Mistress's dominance, her power over him. The stockings whispered of the times she had made him wear them under his own clothes, the seams digging into his skin, a constant reminder of his place.

He began to dress, each movement deliberate. First, the stockings, which he rolled onto his legs with care, taking time to smooth them out and adjust the seams. Then came the garters, which he attached with a satisfying snap. He could almost feel her eyes on him, scrutinizing every detail. His heart raced as he slipped into a frilly petticoat, the layers of fabric billowing around him. The weight of the skirt was foreign but comforting, a symbol of his submission.

As he fastened the last button of the starched maid's uniform, he felt a surge of adrenaline. The fabric was tight, the collar high and stiff. The apron was next, tied snugly around his waist, the frills fluttering as he moved. He looked at himself in the mirror, the image of a perfect servant staring back at him. His reflection was both terrifying and exhilarating.

He knew the day ahead would be long and demanding. His Mistress had left a list of chores for him to complete. Each one was an opportunity to serve, to prove his worth. The sissy maid took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He was ready to face whatever trials she had in store for him. With a silent nod to his reflection, he stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway, ready to begin his duties as the sissy maid he had become.