1. Chrissie, Chapter 2


    Date: 7/19/2024, Categories: Cross-dressing, Author: cwcobblestone 

    ... “All better now, baba?”

“Yes, Mrs. Martin.” I cleared my throat. “Um, uh … when I’m done cleaning, is it okay if I just call an Uber to take me to the rent-a-car place, so I can get a car?”

Karl propped his hands on the pillow above his head and pondered my request. “Naaaaaah, I don’t think so. Take the bus for a while, sissy. If you really want to be a slave, then you need to come down a few pegs.”

With the tears now freely flowing, I glanced at Rebecca, whose hand covered her mouth in an obvious attempt to hide her mirth.

“Poor Chrissie,” she sang. “You put up with so much, don’t you?”

“I … I don’t know.” I hung my head and sobbed more.

“Aw, poor thing. It’s not easy being our slave, huh?”

“Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh,” was all I could manage.

Rebecca searched my face. “Listen, Chris, seriously — is this slave thing even something you want to do? You said you wanted to, but you act so bummed out about it all the time. I thought this was your thing, but I don’t want to keep doing it if all you’re gonna do is cry.”

“Oh, no, no, Mrs. Martin, please.” I sniffled and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Mr. Martin, sir, please, no, take my car for as long as you need it, sir. And I’ll … I’ll take the bus, no problem. Whatever you want. Please, I just … I just want to … I want to keep serving you. Please.”

I dropped to my knees, clasped my hands, squeezed my eyes shut, and eked out one final “Pleeeeeeeease.”

Karl scoffed. ...
    ... “Fucking sissy.”

“Oh, hush, I think it’s sweet.” Rebecca looked down on me. “Get up off your knees, Chrissie. We’ll still let you be our slave if you want to. Just stop all the crying, okay? I know Karl’s mean to you sometimes, but that’s just how he is. If you’re gonna really try to make this work, you need to deal with it without all the drama. Okay?”

“Y-yes, Mrs. Martin. T-thank you, Mrs. Martin. Thank you so much. No more crying. I promise. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baba,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go ahead and get started?”

Rebecca hadn’t been kidding about it being a “laying-around day” for them. They cuddled and binge-watched “Ozark” while I scrubbed, scoured, fetched and polished. I worked as slowly as I dared, trying to draw out the day as long as possible, making excuses to pass the bedroom as I cleaned so I could peek in at my Princess, even if it meant having to see her nestled in that asshole’s arms.

When the house was spotless, and I could no longer delay the inevitable, I reported to Rebecca and her husband.

“Um, the … the house is all done.”

By then, they’d turned off Netflix and were each kicked back in bed going through their phones. I stood before them in my maid’s dress, feeling even shorter than 5’6 while they ignored me.

Rebecca finally looked up. “All done, sweetie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Martin. Um, is … is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, baba, I’m good.”

I gritted my teeth. “Sir? Is there anything else you need?” I ...
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