They were fun and friendly and, like me, almost sober. We laughed and talked and I was involved, included, enveloped in their friendship. She talked t... me and to others, occasionally catching my eye and smiling at me. The last tiny ray of the sun caught her hair and her eyes. God, those eyes. We moved into the house, large and warm and I suddenly realised how cool it had become outside. I sipped slowly, reluctant to drink too much more but so enjoying the conviviality, the warmth and the sheer. I can’t sit either, or I’ll crush my balls doing so, but I’m not allowed to sit in chairs, only kneel, and stand when guests are around so it doesn’t really matter. After that, the usual stockings, the heels, the French maid uniform (my only one), and a headband to top it off. I have to adjust my cleavage so it looks good, my auntie told me she paid good money for my transformation so I have to be displayed properly for all to admire (like I was a painting my aunt owned), I’m basically a maid. More

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