Crossing Texas – Chapter Nineteen
After I finished cleaning, I took the restaurant keys to the front desk.
Heather, a part-time employee, was there reading a magazine. Heather was a single mom, maybe 30 years old, with sandy brown hair and full figured, but not quite fat. Because she worked only sporadically, I hadn’t actually met Heather before.
“Here are the restaurant keys, mistress,” I said as I set them on the counter.
“Thanks, sweetheart. I’m Heather. Now introduce yourself.” I had hoped to get back to my room and relax, and was not eager to meet Heather.
“I’m Pamela, Mistress Heather. The new maid.”
“Pamela, is it? Nice to meet you. How old are you, Pamela?”
“Twenty, ma’am.”
“Twenty years old. Odd, the last time I worked here, I could swear you were just a little baby girl. In fact, you wore diapers and was sucking a pacifier like a slutty twenty year old might suck a guys dick.”
I turned red.
“Yes., that was me, Mistress.”
“So, young lady, now that you are twenty years old, how do you use that great skill of yours?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t understand.”
“Oh don’t play shy or stupid. Do you suck dicks?”
“No! No mistress, I don’t.”
“You don’t? Well, then I guess you satisfy your young men.., how? Not that I can’t guess.”
“But I don’t satisfy any men. I don’t like men,” I said adamantly, getting upset by Heather’s insinuations.
“Go into the office, Pamela,” she said, pointing to the Amanda’s office.
“What? Why?”
“I believe, Pamela, you are instructed to address me properly and to also follow my instructions. Isn’t that correct, young lady?”
“Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry,” I said, resigned to my strange fate.
“Indeed it is right. Amanda made your status very clear to all of us. Now move it.” Heather followed me into the small office.
“Take off your dress, Pamela.”
My hands shook as I reached to my back and undid the buttons, then let the dress fall to the floor, stepped over it, then reached down to pick it up.
“Now your slip. Remove it!” I did as Heather ordered, leaving me wearing only my bra, panties, pantyhose and shoes.
“Everything else, girl.”
“But Mistress Heather, I must meet Sara soon.”
“Sara, Sara, Sara. Seems our little girl has a gleam in her eye for the Mexican beauty. OK, you may leave your bra on – I know you’d be lost without your titties – but everything else comes off.”
I carefully removed my pantyhose, taking care not to run them, then removed my pink panties. I stood before Heather while she looked me over as if I were a horse she were purchasing.
“So, the truth at last! You know, sissy, I looked through your photo shots, and decided I just had to see you for myself. You are a disgrace to men, you know.” Heather reached over and fondled my cock and balls, which responded.
“So,” she exclaimed, “sissy maid does respond to a real woman’s touch. Maybe you’re not all girl yet, sweetheart. Unfortunately, you’re not very big down there, are you,” she said while continuing to fondle me, “but considering the packaging, it’s more than I expected. Now put your panties back on, young lady, and get out of here. Maybe some night I’ll come by your room.” She winked at me and left the room.
Back in my room I quickly stripped out of my clothes yet again, proceeded to shave my entire body, apply lotion, reapply nail polish, and then sat down and began applying makeup. Screw everyone, I thought to myself, tonight it’ll be just Sara and me. Sara knows I’m a man, a real man. After all, I mused, the reason for my current predicament is that I forced my manliness upon her. And Sara seemed to truly like me. More than anyone, Sara could see through my feminine fa‡ade. Sara, I realized, was the last remaining link to my waning masculinity.
Even as I very carefully used a pencil to highlight my eyes, then put Mascara on my naturally long lashes, I thought of how maybe, after our date, I would gently make love to the beautiful Hispanic girl. I selected matching rose-colored bra and panties, and donned a brand new pair of ultra sheer pantyhose. Next came the slinky red dress which Sara had asked me to wear on our date. After checking the mirror (Foxy Lady!, I said to myself), I forced my feet into a pair of open toed shoes with one inch heels, grabbed my purse, and left for Amanda’s house. It was 7:45 p.m. on a Friday night.
“Hi, Pammy dear,” Sara said happily as she opened the front door, “come on in and have a seat. I’m almost ready.” She wore a lacy white bra with small pink flowers embroidered on it, a short white half slip with lace hem, and pantyhose. I sat on the couch and tried to focus on the television show, while Sara went to her room to finish dressing. But I was too nervous. This was all so very weird, I thought: I’m so excited I feel like a junior high boy on his first date. I felt as if the clothes I wore simply didn’t matter; if Sara wanted me to be pretty, well then I would be as pretty as I possibly could be. All I knew was that I was infatuated with Sara.
Utterly! Yes it was odd that she would like me like this, dressed as a chick, but she did like me! Probably Sara preferred I not wear a dress. But, I reasoned, if Amanda ordered that I wear a dress, then Sara would accept me in a dress.
After about ten minutes Sara entered the room, looking stunningly beautiful. Her dark hair fell gently upon a yellow blouse. She wore short pink culottes and pink high heels. Because her heels were much higher than mine, she was now as tall or taller than I. Her makeup was flawless.
“Stand up, Pamela, and let me see how you look,” Sara said.
“Yes, very nice indeed,” She said as she walked a circle around me, “but let me touch up your makeup a bit. You are getting much better at it, you know,” she said as she applied a touch of blusher, then used a small lipstick brush to carefully outline my lips, “but it takes a lot of practice to master the finer techniques. But don’t worry, Pamela, you do make a fine young lady.”
“Thank you, mistress,” I replied with real pride, “I tried to look my very best for you.”
And you succeeded,” she said laughing.
“Now grab your purse and lets go out for a real fling!”
The End of Crossing Texas – Chapter Nineteen.
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index