Maid

He was just about to leave the dining room when his wife's voice him. "Where are you going?" she asked in a sharp tone.

"To...to change," he said. "Our guests will be here in half an hour, it will take me a few minutes." She didn't respond and he knew better than to leave the room without permission, without being dismissed. When that permission was not forthcoming, he turned, swallowed. "I'm sorry," he said, thinking he displeased her by leaving without asking. "May I go change?"

"You most certainly may not," she glared at him. 

"Of course," he answered, not understanding, looking at the table, assuming he'd forgotten something, but unable to see it. 

"You didn't forget anything, Sissy," she said, seeing his eyes dart back and forth. 

"Thank you, Ma'am," he said, "I don't...I don't understand then."

"You're not changing," she said.

"Ma'am?" he said, confused. "Our guests..."

"Will be served by my maid. I've had quite enough hiding of this double life, shuffling you off whenever we have guests. No, tonight you'll assume your proper place."

"But Ma'am," he gasped, "my...my manager and his wife are..." She scowled, he swallowed the rest of his complaint, knowing anything else would bring a punishment and would not change her mind. He took a breath, calmed himself, his tone. "Ma'am, I'm not comfortable with this."

"Your reservations are noted," she said, "but I've made my decision. Not another word."

"But Ma'am," he swallowed.

"We'll talk about your punishment later. I said not another word."

"Yes, Ma'am," he looked down.

"Go freshen up your makeup, I want you to look perfect for our guests."