“Now Yvette, don’t make a mess of your uniform, you’ll find something things to help you stay squeaky clean under the sink,” Samantha called from the living room, her voice taking a saccharine tone.

I found some yellow rubber gloves under the sink along with a translucent white rubber apron sporting a ruffled trim. I began scrubbing the dishes, pots and glasses, it wasn’t difficult, olive oil and spaghetti don’t stick much, so it was really just a matter of rinsing everything then loading the dishwasher. When I put everything away I took the time to lean against the sink and think about what happened. I was still hard, my erection pressed up against my stomach in my nylon panties. I was aroused at the moment I couldn’t think straight. Without even thinking I felt my left hand rubbing on my pantied crotch, my thoughts couldn’t stray from that encounter in the living room.

I didn’t here Madame enter the kitchen until she whispered in my ear. “Now now Yvette, I will not have any of that in my house.” She bent forward and draped her arms around my shoulders. I didn’t dare move until she gave me a sharp slap on my rear. I squeaked involuntarily and straightened up in her embrace. “That’s a little better,” she continued in her confident whisper, using one hand to easily guide my two hands behind my back, where she held my two dainty wrists together behind me. Her other hand cupped itself over my aching crotch. I could smell a light perfume on her. “If I even get slightest feeling that you would do something like disobey your Mistress in this way, I will let those pictures go. Would you ever do something like disobey your Mistress?”

I swallowed hard.

“Non, Madamme,”

“Awww… that’s so sweet of you,” she cooed before giving my crotch a fierce squeeze through my skirts that made me wince. “Because I’d hate to have to let my maid go so early.” I worried at such a prospect and toyed with my frilly rubber apron while staring at my feet.

“Now when you’re done tidying up here, come up to my bedroom. You’ll be retiring with me for the night.” She said finally releasing me from her embrace. I curtsied as she left the kitchen and finished sweeping up. It took me a while to ascend the stairs to her room, my feet were sore from spending so much time locked into those shoes. I minced into the Madame’s room and curtsied. She was wearing a baggy green t-shirt and red, plaid pajama pants lying on her bed. Her hair was still pulled back and she was still wearing her glasses.

“One last thing Yvette. I’d hate to be a bother but my room is a bit of a mess from our little dressing session earlier. Would you mind tidying it up?” I looked around to the various clothes, boxes and outfits scattered around the floor and on the shelves. Dressing session? She made it sound like some kind of favor, not the way I would describe blackmail. Madame smiled wickedly at me, then brought the book she was reading over her face.

I sighed and curtsied “Oui, Oui Madamme,” then began the process of picking everything up. A few articles of clothing here and there but it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see her watching me while she pretended to read her book. She liked watching me clean and serve her dressed like this. This wasn’t just about having a maid to clean up after her; it was about making me do it, forcing someone to be her maid. Every time I bent over to pick something up, I knew she was looking up my skirts. Finally after putting it all away I turned to her and she was holding the black panties and nighty from before.

“Yvette, you’ll wear these to bed with me,” I minced over and took them from her, where I began to undress. “Excuse me Yvette, please change in the bathroom. When I wish to see you naked I will tell you.” She commanded without a hint of sarcasm or irony in her voice.

“Oui, Oui Madamme,”

The bathroom tile felt cold on my feet, making me dance lightly while I slid the black nighty over my head, letting the marabou trim caress me as I put it on. It covered even less of me with my prosthetic breasts pushing it out and lifting the hem even higher. I returned to the room holding the maids uniform, slip and undergarments folded in my arms.

“Please take off your wig, I would hate to have to spank you for ruining it while we slept.” I took off the wig and when I spotted myself in one of the room’s mirrors I realized that even without the wig; the clothes, makeup and breast forms made me look like a girl with a short haircut. Samantha patted a space beside her in the bed. I lay down next to her and could still smell the light air of perfume drifting lazily off of her. She leaned out of the bed and searched her nightstand for something, returning with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, decorated with a leopard print.

“Hold out your wrists dearie,” she cooed and without even waiting for my response, fastened my wrists together. I was confused, but so exhausted from the days events, and fearing another spanking given my position I merely nodded. She turned me over and draped an arm across my body, resting her hand possessively on my pantied crotch. I felt myself get hard but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

The lights went out.

“Good night Yvette”