Serving

I stood in the doorway watching my fiancee slide a white stocking up her leg. I was quiet, not wanting to disturb the vision of beauty she was. But I heard the click of heels on the floor, knew it was her mother coming to check on us. Hearing the same, my fiancee looked up just as her mother arrived at my side.

Her mother put a tender hand on my arm, spoke to both of us. "He's here," she said, "he's in the other room." 

My fiancee looked at us. I knew from the look on her face what she was thinking; I was thinking the same. Her mother knew, too. She squeezed my arm to reassure me, looked at her daughter. "Don't worry, he's very attractive," she said, "and he owns a small tech company. You couldn't have asked for a better man to be assigned to."

"Are you sure?" my fiancee asked.

I felt her mother reach down and adjust the ties of the frilly white apron I wore over the black satin maid's uniform. I was self-conscious; the year of hormones worked as expected, softening and feminizing me and, combined with longer hair, making me almost, but not quite as pretty as my fiancee. "You should go fetch him," she said to me.

"I...I just...what if he..."

"He won't. He asked to be assigned a feminized couple," she said, "they don't just do that randomly. Some of them prefer it, prefer their assigned come with a lady's maid. I know you preferred it the other way, but trust me, it makes things much easier. Instead of being shunned away, you'll be expected to always be there taking care of her."

Kristen stood and I felt my penis jump in the small, metal chastity cage. At just over an inch, it was far too small to allow me to swell even the slightest, but seeing Kristen dressed in white, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be allowed to be inside her, a sensation I would never be permitted.

Her mother sensed that, too, touched my arm again. "I know you sense what you're missing out on," she said, "but always remember, each night when he's done with her, as her lady's maid, you'll be permitted intimacies a normal cuckold is denied."

"What...what if I don't like it?" I whispered, voicing the fear I had for so long.

"Honey, even if it's hard at first, it's rare the sissy maid that doesn't come enjoy, if not crave orally pleasing her mistress afterward. Now why don't you go get him, we can't keep him waiting."

I found him in the next room; he was dressed casually, jeans and well fitted top-that showed off his muscular frame. "Mr...Mr. Foster, she...she's ready," I said.

He looked me up and down, from my heels, up my black stocking-covered legs, to the hem of my uniform, to my chest. He opened his hand, two small brass keys were in it. "These are the only keys?" he asked.

I blushed. "Y...yes, Sir," I said.

He nodded, tossed them into a nearby trashcan. "We won't be needing them again," he said, "will we?"

"I...that's your decision, Sir," I said, sensing the permanency of his decision.

"I expect you to take care of everything feminine for her," he said, "pamper her, dress her, bathe her, be her companion when I'm away, prepare her when I return, tend to her after. Do that, and you'll avoid issues with me."

"Y...yes, Sir," I said.

"She's never been with anyone?"

"No, Sir," I said, shocked he'd have to ask.

He smiled. "She'll be sore tonight then," he said, "be tender with her."

I swallowed. "I...I will be, Sir," I said.

"Let's go see her, then," he said, "I'm anxious to see if she's as pretty as her mother makes her out to be."

"She...she is, Sir," I said, "she is."

"Well let's go then," he said.

I led him to Kristen; he smiled when he saw her and immediately went to her. "Look at you," he said, hands on her.

Kristen looked at me. I saw the look on her face, shocked how forward and masculine he was. "H...hi," she said.

He pulled her against him; she jumped, looked down. I saw her pressed against the bulge in his pants. "Oh," she whispered.

"Go on," he said, "feel it, you need to get used to it.:

Kristen reached down, touched him, giggled. "I...I didn't know they got this big," she said.

"Men do," he said. "Men." He started to undress, told her to do the same.

Both naked, he looked at her. "Don't be shy," he said, "go on, take it."

Kristen took his thick erection in her hand. "I never...I don't know...I mean..."

"Start with your mouth," he said, "always start with your mouth."

"My...my mouth?" She asked blushing, clearly , unsure what he meant.

He put his hand on her shoulder, pushed her down gently so she knelt in front of him. "Go on," he said.

"Go on?" she asked.

"Open your mouth and take it," he ordered her.

"T...take it?"

"My cock," he said, "take my cock in your mouth. You'll know what to do when you start."

Kristen looked at his cock, eyes wide, looked over at me. She'd seen me before, of course, caged and uncaged; but nothing had prepared her for what he demanded. "I...I never..."

He grinned at her. "This is how you start," he said, "always with your mouth. Now go on."

Kristen reached for him, leaned forward, opened her mouth, took in the large, thick head of his cock. "No hands," he scolded her, "learn to use just your mouth, hands are cheating; I want to feel that mouth."

Kristen dropped her hands to her knees, leaned forward, opened her mouth, took in more of his cock. "That's a good girl," he said, "watch the teeth."

I was mesmerized at the sight of my fiancee on her knees sucking his thick, hard cock. I knew what a blowjob was, of course, but never saw one before, certainly never experienced one, knew I never would. Instead, I could only watch as the woman I loved started sucking his cock, hesitant at first, but warming up to the task.

After a good five minutes, he pulled her up, pushed her onto the bed, spread her legs, stepped between her. She stared at his cock as I was, both wondering the same thing: how would he fit inside her.    

"You'll get used to that, too," he said, reading her mind. "Now legs up. Let's go."

She pulled her legs back; he put his arms in front of them, locking them in place, pressed the head of his cock against her, rubbed her. I could tell she was wet even if she was nervous, terrified, crossed her arms on her stomach as if to protect herself.

He didn't hesitate, leaned forward, pressed the head of his cock into her. "Oh, god," she moaned, "it...its too big."

He either didn't hear or ignored her protest, instead he moved his arms higher, spreading her legs wider, pushed more of his cock into her wet pussy. I couldn't help wonder what it must feel like to be inside her.

"Oh, god, yes," Kristen moaned looking him in the eyes. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

I watched as he fucked my fiancee, watched as she moaned and shook, watched as she cried out in pleasure, watched until he thrust hard and deep and held himself in her, filling her.

When he was done, he pulled out leaving a mess inside her and out, her lips glistening with his seed. He dressed and left, leaving us alone.

When her mother told me what I must do after he was done, each and every time, I balked and said I couldn't. But watching her now, legs still back, face flush, still shaking with the vestiges of orgasm, skin covered with his seed, I found myself where he had just stood, but on my knees, eyes fixed on the mess.

"What...what are you doing?" she asked, sounding horrified.

I remembered her mother's directions and before she could move, I leaned forward, tongue out, and gave her pussy a long, slow lick from bottom to clit, tasting her, tasting him.

"Oh godddddddd," Kristen moaned why my tongue glided over her, "oh fuckkkkkkkk."

I knew this was the nature of our world now. Married but serving her as her lady's maid, caring for her, pampering her, preparing her, cleaning her for our master.