Going Back There

By: Rosie in skirts


I was nervous from the moment I woke up. I was going to visit my mother in law
that day, again, after all that time. I hadn’t seen her in ages, and lately
hadn’t even thought of her much. I know that some of you won't agree with that,
but my mother in law literally changed my life. You might argue that the changes
come from me, not her, that she was merely a catalyst and that I would have
undergone the same changes, only later. That – although I strongly doubt it –
may be true, but I guess we'll never know, will we. Anyhow, to put in a way
that'll please everybody, she was the most influential person in my adult life.

Also, it is unarguable that she was the only person we could lean on, that was
there for us. Part of the credit for that goes to the fact that she's our only
living relative, but the fact remains that when I lost my job it was her that
offered us help, not anyone else. You know that song by Eric Clapton – 'Nobody
Knows You When You're Down and Out'? It's true, you know. I'm not really blaming
our friends, though. It's not that they shunned us because we were poor (well,
worse off than before) per se, it was the consequences being financially
challenged implied. We could no longer afford to throw lavish dinner parties,
and being invited to other people's we couldn't afford to bring expensive
bottles of wine as everybody else, and dress up in fancy clothes bought just for
the occasion. Gradually – well, in a matter of three months, tops – we drifted
out of our former social circles and were, seemingly, all alone. Apart from
Eunice, Gail's mother.

Gail had left early, by the time I woke up she was already gone. I got up, made
myself a small breakfast, ate it, tidied up the dishes, went back up to the
bedroom, made the bed, got dressed. When I thought about it, almost every action
reminded me of my mother in law. After all, she taught me how to do that. Not
all of them, of course, but more than I was comfortable to admit.

When Gail and I got married, I had a relatively well paying job. I wasn't
pulling down millions, but enough that we could live comfortably – meaning no
financial worries. Soon after we were married we moved into a new, bigger house.
And on our own money even. The loan was quite hefty but with my pay, it didn't
pose as a problem. Every now and then, when the money gathered up, we'd pay a
bigger sum, which would reduce the interests we paid each month. However, more
often than not, it only made more sense to spend the money on something else – a
trip to a tropical island, for instance. So the interests didn’t get reduced to
the level I initially hoped, but we didn’t really care. We could afford it.
Suddenly, I lost my job, and had no hopes in finding another one. Thanks to the
credit, our savings dwindled until we couldn't afford to pay even for the
monthly interests, let alone pay the actual loan off. We were at the point of
selling the house – a thing that deeply troubled both of us – but fortunately,
Eunice came to the rescue. She agreed to take care of the interests while me and
Gail would pay the loan off accordingly to our capabilities. Furthermore, she
helped us organize our finances so that we actually could put something into the
bank.
Luckily, Gail found a job soon enough. Not nearly as well paying as mine was,
but still. Eunice would continue to pay the interests while we put what we could
into paying off the loan until the interests got small enough for us to handle.
The roles in our house shifted somewhat – while I was employed, I hardly touched
a thing at home. Gail wasn’t overworked since we had a cleaning lady, but after
we couldn’t afford her anymore, Gail had to take on all of her work. Being
unemployed, and especially after having realized that going around looking for
work made no sense anymore, I was at home most of the time too, so naturally, it
was expected of me to help her out, at least to some extent. I mean, even I
expected that of me and felt bad to see her toil while I just sat around.
However, my home making skills were minimal, if not non-existent. With
everything I did, I either screwed it up or did a shabby job, until Gail found
it easier to just do it herself rather than teach me how to properly do it.
That proved to be less than optimal though. When she got the job, she really
didn’t have that much time left, and with me not doing the chores at home, she
had none. In Eunice’s eye, Gail’s well being was of paramount importance, and
that put us in an uncomfortable position. Although she was pressing me to do
more work at home, Gail also covered for me in front of her mother, who made it
clear that as long as she’s paying off our interests, she expected me to
participate with the same effort, if not financially then otherwise, e.g. with
taking care of the house.
You can’t hide a thing like that forever though, not from someone who has the
key to your house. Sure enough, neither could we. One day, Eunice made a
surprise visit. When she let herself in, she found a quite messy (by her
standards at least) house and her son in law sitting, watching the tv. Good
thing I wasn’t drinking beer as well.
“What’s this, Brian?” she said, pointing to the kitchen where dishes of past two
days have piled up, “shouldn’t you be doing something?”
“What?” I replied, taken by surprise.
“The dishes,” she said sternly, “that’s disgusting.”
“Oh. Gail came late yesterday and didn’t have time to do them,” I said, then
suddenly realized at my stupidity. It was too late, however.
“You mean to tell me that you weren’t going to do them at all?” she said,
obviously aggravated.
I replied with another stupid line.
“I’m sorry, Eunice,” I said slowly, feeling a bit nervous under her glance, “but
all due respect – this is my house. You can’t just come in here and tell me what
to do.”
She slapped my face. Now, when a woman slaps a man, the power of the slap is
symbolical – it’s the shame, not the pain that matters. I can’t deny the shame I
felt, but as for it being greater that the pain, well, Eunice was a big woman.
Taller than her daughter (and with that me, as Gail and I were more or less of
same height), and quite strongly built. Part of it was fat, there’s no denying
it, but also muscle. Broad shoulders, strong arms. The slap she landed on my
face would have knocked off my feet if I hadn’t been sitting down. It took me a
while to regain my senses.
“I’m not paying your interests so that my daughter can work herself to the grave
while you fart about,” she shouted at me, “get up and start working, NOW!”
“But…, but I don’t know how to,” I all but cried in my defense.
“You’ll get the hang of it, don’t worry,” she said as she led me to the kitchen.
However, she soon realized I truly was a hopeless case. She scolded me, of
course, but didn’t really speak her mind until Gail got home.
Gail was taken by surprise when a hot dinner awaited her on the table.
“What’s this, honey?” she asked me.
Before I could explain, Eunice came out of the kitchen.
“You seem surprised, dear,” she said, “Whatever for? Isn’t this just like any
other day – your diligent husband cooking you a nice dinner? After having
thoroughly cleaned the house?”
“Mother…” Gail started, but Eunice sopped her.
“Save it,” she said, “If you were willing to tolerate his laziness, I’m not.
They’ll be some changes here, I’ll make sure of that.”
“But mother, he’s hopeless with house work. He’s tried it and it just easier for
me to do it myself,” Gail said.
“He needs training, that’s all,” Eunice replied, “He’ll learn.”
“I don’t have time for that,” Gail said tiredly, “Like I said, it takes less
time if I just do it myself.”
“You don’t, but I have.”
“What are you saying?” Gail asked, “That you’re going to train my husband?”
“Exactly,” Eunice proudly replied.
Gail looked at me and my silent pleas for rescue. She though for a while.
“I won’t say no,” she said finally.

Although I didn’t intend leaving the house that morning, I dressed myself with
as much care as otherwise. I always took care of my appearance, even for staying
home. Maybe that can’t be attributed to my mother-in-law’s teaching, but with
what I did afterwards there can’t be any doubt. Vacuumed the house, dusted. That
pretty much took me all morning. It’s a big house, after all. Furthermore, my
mother-in-law taught me to be thorough at my tasks.

Sure enough, she came by the next day and coached me in various chores. Well,
not that various. We only covered two or three, but thoroughly. She was shocked
to see that I couldn’t even hang the laundry properly, so she made me take it
off the rack, hang it again and again until I performed to her satisfaction.
Over the next days she continued to come over, at least every other day, until
it was decided that she could do a more efficient job training me at her house.
So, every other day Gail dropped me off at Eunice’s house in the morning and the
next day, I’d repeat what I had learned that day.
Gail’s job required her to take frequent business trips that usually lasted a
couple of days. On the next such occasion after the beginning of my training,
Eunice suggested I spend that time in her house.
“No sense in either of us wasting time traveling from one house to another,” she
said.
Gail agreed with her reasoning although the traveling didn’t take that much time
– our houses were a twenty minutes’ drive apart.
Naturally, I wasn’t thrilled. I had to admit, training me in house chores did
make sense – I felt better about myself now that I could help out or at least
make every effort to do so, and Gail appreciated that which showed in her
attitude towards me. Spending time with my mother-in-law, however, wasn’t my
idea of fun. Without beating around the bush – that woman scared me. After she
had slapped me that day, all she had to do was to look at me sternly and I felt
my knees go weak with fear. However, she used to do more than that. The tone she
used with me those days had a strong hint of unfriendliness even when she wasn’t
aggravated. And her shouting brought me to the brink of tears more than one
time.
Gail dropped me off at Eunice’s house in the early afternoon. After we’d had our
coffee she said goodbye and left. Some time after that, Eunice changed from her
informal pants-and-sweater outfit into a straight knee length black leather
skirt, a plain black silk blouse and black boots with a very high heel. I
couldn’t help but gape at her.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
“No,” she replied plainly and walked into her living room.
“Come here, please,” she called, “We need to talk.”
As I made my way to the couch she was sitting on, my nervousness rose with every
step I took.
“You’re afraid of me, aren’t you” she said.
“Well, I..” I stammered, avoiding her glance.
“You are,” she repeated, “It’s because I’ve slapped you, isn’t it?”
I shrugged silently.
”That was wrong, I shouldn’t have done that,” she said.
Relief wasn’t exactly what I felt, nor was I more at ease. But I felt a
distinctive notion that things were about to improve.
“I should have explained a few things before punishing you physically,” she
said.
My mouth stood agape – what was this woman saying?
“You see, as you’ve noticed, I demand absolute obedience from you,” she calmly
continued, “You’re only human and although you do your best, you displease me
every now and then. You have and you will. For that you must be punished,
otherwise you’ll think you can get away with that and start doing it on purpose.
Punishment should be delivered in a calm, orderly manner, with explanations why
you’re being punished beforehand. Slapping you was an act of anger, I should
have controlled myself. I want you to understand that punishment isn’t an act of
hatred towards you, it is simply a part of the training process. Nothing
personal, if you will. Do you understand that?”
I nodded, not really able to speak.
“Splendid,” she said, smoothing her skirt, “Now why don’t you lie down across my
knees?”
I wanted to run. To tell the crazy broad to shove it and go home.
“But I haven’t done anything wrong,” I weakly protested instead.
“Not today,” she admitted, “This is more of a symbolic occasion. To show what
you can expect if you don’t obey me. And to settle our bills for the past.”
“Please, Eunice, don’t do this,” I begged her.
“Brian,” she said sternly, “I intended to give you just a light spanking, but
now you’re making me change my mind. I will spank you in the end, you know that.
But if I have to force you over my knees, you won’t get away with playful taps
on your behind.”
“Okay,” I capitulated.
“Now drop your pants and lie down,” she said.
“My pants?” I whined.
“Brian,” she said, “Don’t try my patience.”
Quickly, I unbuckled my belt, let my pants drop to my ankles and placed myself
over her knees. Her ‘playful taps’ did hurt, but not very much to be perfectly
honest. It was the shame of it that brought me to tears.
“There, there,” she said after she was done, embracing me, “That wasn’t so bad,
was it? Now we can be friends again.”
She held me until I stopped crying.
“Pull your pants back on, dear, there’s work to do,” she said.
The next day I, while taking our the garbage, I managed to spill some smelly
liquid down my pants. Eunice told me to put them in the wash immediately and
instead of letting me change in my room, insisted I take off the pants there and
then and after I had done so, brought me clean clothes. Except that they weren’t
mine.
“These are Gail’s old clothes. You can wear them while you work,” she explained.
I took a look at them. Nothing overly feminine, a pair of ladies’ jeans and a
plain sweater.
“There’s no sense in ruining your clothes,” she said, “Since you can’t afford
new ones.”
“Oh come on,” I said, “Gail’s buying herself new things every week.”
“That’s because she has to look presentable at work,” Eunice said coldly, “It’s
a job requirement. It’s an unavoidable cost. New clothes for you, on the other
hand, aren’t, if you take care of those that you already own.”
“I can’t wear women’s clothes, Eunice,” I faintly tried.
“It’s not exactly a dress,” she said, “And why can’t you wear women’s clothes?
Do you think it’s degrading?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted, “kinda.”
“If you haven’t noticed, mister, you are only able two live in your house
because one woman is paying for it,” she said, “And another is earning the rest
of the money. What’s so degrading about those two women?”
“Nothing,” I said weakly and put on the jeans.
I’d like to say that apart from wearing girls’ jeans, my stay at Eunice’s was
quite alright. However, that’s not quite true. After I agreed to wear her
daughter’s old clothes for my housework, I had to agree to wear an apron over
them, to protect them. Whereas my new clothes weren’t too feminine, the apron
Eunice gave me certainly was. A floral print creation with a ruffled bib. She
furthered my humiliation by requiring me to tie a flouncy bow at the back.
As she said, as much as I tried, I never managed to completely please her and
punishments were administered accordingly. Not merely ‘playful taps’ indeed.
Gail never suspected a thing. Okay, she was surprised when she saw me in her
jeans when she came to pick me up, but I was allowed to take the apron off
beforehand. After Eunice explained the reason of my new wardrobe, she didn’t
raise an issue about that, either. Well, about the principle at least.
“I see your point, mother,” she said, “But you could have given him a more
unisex outfit.”
The jeans I was wearing had fairly visible pink seams and my top had cup
sleeves.
“I work with what I can, dear,” Eunice replied, shooting me a meaningful glance.
Inwardly, I cringed at the thought of Gail seeing me in the clothes I wore the
previous day. Compared to the purple satin pants and the sequined top, my outfit
was relatively unisex.

After lunch – well, just a salad really – I made myself a cup of coffee and sat
down in our living room. Although I still had work to do – the housewife’s work
is never finished, as they say – I took off my apron and decided I’d done enough
for the day. As the time of the visit grew closer, I was becoming more and more
nervous. Memories of my mother-in-law came flooding back. Work would have help
me to put them aside and my mind at ease, at least for some time, but that was
not what I wanted. I needed to think things over.

Eunice came over often enough to make sure I was wearing Gail’s old clothes
during my chores, which was pretty much all of the time. Gail initially
complained – to her mother, not to me – but got used to it and even sorted out a
bunch of old clothes and gave them to me. Eunice provided the aprons. In all
fairness, it wasn’t so bad. The clothes Gail had given me were mostly jeans and
plain pants. However, when I stayed with Eunice, I had to dress to her tastes.
More often than not I had to wear blouses, with camisoles underneath.
Gail eventually got a promotion and a hefty raise, but things didn’t exactly
improve for me from that point. The promotion also meant more and longer lasting
business trips, during which I stayed with Eunice.
She trained me until I was proficient in every aspect of house work. I cooked,
cleaned, dusted, vacuumed, did the laundry, ironed, sewed buttons and repaired
loose seams… Because of that I had to wear nail polish. Not to snag or rip any
of the delicate clothing, Eunice made me file my nails and cover them with
varnish. At home I used Gail’s clear nail polish, but the one Eunice made me use
had more than ‘just a hint’ of pink in it.
Eventually, my training was complete, but that didn’t mean that my training
sessions were discontinued. Every time Gail went away, I was at Eunice’s, not as
much a trainee than an unpaid servant. I carefully complained about that to Gail
but she told me that we owe her mother a great deal and that helping her out
with the housework was the least I could do.
Truthfully, the work I was made to do was the least troubling part, but the only
one I could complain to Gail about. I mean, how can a husband complain to his
wife that his mother-in-law beats him? Eunice didn’t even try to find a pretext
for spanking me anymore – it was clearly obvious that she was doing it for her
personal enjoyment.
The clothes she made me wear were becoming increasingly feminine. Even though I
sometimes arrived at her house already dressed in Gail’s old things, I would
have to change immediately after Gail left. Knowing Gail would disapprove of
that, she never made me wear the more feminine outfits in front of her, but
loved to tease me about that.
“Whatever would Gail think if she saw her husband wearing this pretty blouse?”
she’d say.
Gail didn’t know about all of this, of course, but Eunice let certain things
seep through. Gail acted as they didn’t really bother her. Eunice had an
explanation for everything ready, anyway.
Gail bought the story about the nail polish, and when she found out I had shaved
every hair on my body below my neck, the explanation was ‘hygienic reasons’.
Beside the camisoles I had to wear under my blouses, Eunice eventually had me
wear full lingerie – panties, nylons, even bras. Never in presence of Gail, of
course, but she must have caught on something, when once Eunice told me, in the
presence of my wife, that I needn’t bother packing next time I came as
everything I needed was already there.
Whether she really didn’t mind, or just turned a blind eye to it because she
felt she owed her mother, I don’t know. But even after the promotion, when we
could probably afford a pair of pants or a t-shirt now and then, she didn’t
object when I continued to wear her old clothes. The official reason was still
economical, I suppose, though she did buy herself a couple of new nightgowns and
pajamas.
Truthfully, she seemed more and more distant. She was away half of the time and
when she was here, well, things weren’t the same as they were. Beside the fact
that she seemed ignorant to the painfully obvious fact that her mother was
feminizing me (she took to calling me ‘Melissa’ and let it ‘slip’ in front of
Gail), she was also losing interest in me sexually.
Eunice sensed that, I suppose, and became even bolder in humiliating me. She
made me call her ‘mummy’. She had me sleep in frilly nightgowns and baby dolls.
Often, after getting ready for bed, she’d had me spend the evening sitting on
her lap while she caressed me through my gauzy nightwear until I was mad with
lust and excitement. Then she’d leave me like that, specifically forbidding to
touch myself. I disobeyed her once and couldn’t sit down next day. She’d often
style my long hair in a feminine manner and apply make up to my face, until she
had me learn how to do that myself.
Gail of course never saw me like that, though the outfits Eunice, sorry, mummy
had me wear when Gail came to pick me up, were getting bolder and bolder.

As I poured myself another cup of coffee, I discovered that my hands were
literally shaking. Absent minded I reached for the booze cabinet to make myself
a stiff drink, but I stopped mid way. I wasn’t going to seek refuge in alcohol.
Now that would be patently stupid, allowing that woman to drive me to drinking.
I glanced at the clock, Gail would be home soon.

However, mummy got a bit too relaxed towards keeping the truth from Gail. One
time Gail came early – she told mummy, but mummy didn’t tell me. Though even if
she did, it would have hardly made any difference – by that time I was little
more than her slave. Apparently deciding to display the full extent of her
dominance over me, she waited until Gail was sitting in her living room, then
called for me.
“Melissa,” she yelled, “Over here.”
“Right away, mummy” I replied and sped to the living room, not knowing Gail was
there. She was sitting on a sofa that completely hid her from behind. When I
finally saw her – not more than few feet away – I shrieked and turned to run
away. I was dressed in a pink silk blouse with white polka dots and brown velvet
shorts, complete with pearly white nylons and medium height heels, my lips were
painted bright red, so were my nails, my hair curled. I don’t think Gail
recognized me at first. However, I didn’t get very far. Mummy got up from her
chair, caught me, manhandled me onto her lap, unzipped the back fastener of my
shorts, pulled them down and spanked me soundly on my pink lacy panties.
Gail watched with her mouth gaping open for a few moments, then yelled “Enough!”
with a clear, forceful voice.
“I should have done this long time ago,” she said, pulling me off mummy’s lap,
“Come on Brian, we’re going.”
Still wailing, I pulled my shorts back up and followed her to her car.

When we got home she led me to the bathroom.
“Take these off, get cleaned up. Wash you hair,” she said and left, adding “I
don’t even want to see what you’re wearing underneath.”
The next day she surprised me by taking me on a vacation.
“It’s been long overdue,” she explained, “You deserve it. I only wish I could
take more than a week off.”

We drove to a bed and breakfast by a lake somewhere in the mountains and stayed
there for a week. For the first time in a long while I dressed in my own clothes
again. For the first time in a long while I felt like a man again. Or at least
tried to. Gail was helpful, she was being a lady, allowing me to open doors for
her and such. Never mentioned the spanking incident.
Through the day I managed to keep the manly self image, but at night, I
couldn’t. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to initiate sex with Gail until the
last night, when I did manage to get on top of her, but my penis didn’t respond.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Gail comforted me, “It’s still early. You need more time.”
Time, however, was a commodity I didn’t have.

Home, I was back to wearing Gail’s clothes again. Not by anyone’s intentions,
though. Our car got broken into on the way home and the thieves took my carryall
which had pretty much all of my clothes in it – Gail had packed in a hurry. On
top of that, we got a flat tire. I managed to change it, which improved my
masculine self image, but doing so I managed to roll in a mud puddle. Gail said
she’d bring me some new clothes coming back from work, she went shopping for
herself anyhow.
“Let’s see,” I said when she came back, reaching for the shopping back.
She moved it away from me, smiling shyly.
“What’s the matter, don’t tell me you forgot,” I said, reaching for the bag
again.
She shrugged and handed me the bag. I reached in and pulled out a bundle of silk
– a black and red floral print pants and blouse set.
“Oh, come on, you really forgot,” I said.
She kept silent and looked at me with an unchanged expression.
“You didn’t forget, did you?” I said, as it began to dawn on me.
“Honey, these are for you,” she finally said.
“What?” I said in disbelief, “I thought you hated seeing me like that.”
“Look, this is hard for me too,” she began, “But I don’t think I really see you
as a man any more.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, I love you very much and I adore you, but
there’s really no sense in pretending anymore. I mean, I tried and tried and
said to myself that it was nothing when you started wearing my clothes, the nail
polish, when you started shaving your legs, but when I saw you last time at my
mothers, it was just over.”
“It’s not as thought I wanted to do all that,” I said bitterly, feeling tears
welling up behind my eyelids.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” she said, close to crying herself, “This was
very hard for me, but I’ve realized that – “
She broke into tears. I hugged her and started crying too.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” I said quietly, “We don’t have to do this.”
“There isn’t any other way,” she replied, “Please, honey? Don’t make it any more
difficult,” and added with a very faint voice: “Please, Melissa?”
I started crying again. She held me until I stopped, then she said again:
“Please, Melissa?”
“Okay,” I said, breaking away from her embrace, “Okay. Can I borrow your
undies?”
“Sure,” Gail replied, “Shoes too.”
“Give me half an hour,” I said.
She must have been really surprised when she saw me.
“Melissa,” she whispered gently as she cupped my face with her hand. She blinked
away a tear and kissed me.
I knew there was no going back. Later that night, I wore a pink baby doll to
bed. We kissed and cuddled and although my penis responded with an immediate
erection she waited for what seemed an eternity before she mounted me.
I put on my first skirt two days later when Gail took me shopping. I’d never
wear men’s clothes again.

It was getting late and I decided it was time for me to change. In the bedroom,
I divested of my peasant blouse and pencil skirt. As I decided on the dress I
wanted, I took off my whit lingerie as well and replaced it with a dark blue
set. Full cut panties, bra, suspender belt and slip. The slip quite old
fashioned – the neckline was high, but it the top was sheered and trimmed with
lace. The hemline had six inches of lace. It was a gift from Gail, she liked me
in vintage clothing. Over it I put a silk navy blue and white polka dot dress
that I’d bought a week ago.
I took a look in the mirror and was quite satisfied with the reflection.
Although my hips weren’t as wide as I’d like, my narrow waist gave me a very
womanly outline. My breast were a product of hormone treatment and quite
satisfyingly filled a b-cup bra. My hair had recently been curled and blonde
highlights have been added. My face was even without makeup unmistakably a
woman’s face, thanks to laser treatment and electrolysis it was smooth as a
baby’s ass.
I paced around the room, now feeling very confident. Eunice could humiliate me
by making me dress in woman’s clothes back when I lived as a man, but now, what
was she going to do? I smiled snugly at how we’ve disarmed her.
It was about then that Gail come home.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Not quite, honey-doll,” she said, taking me in her arms, “You need to change
first.”
“Aw, don’t tell me you bought me another one of those ancient dresses,” I
moaned.
“I did exactly that,” she said, “And you’re going to wear it.”
“You know I will,” I replied with a soft voice.
I was a little sorry that I couldn’t wear my slip with the new dress, but what
the heck. It was a very pretty dress. A pinkish-creamy colored shirt waist
dress. Its full skirt came to a bit below my knees. The bodice was two layered –
an opaque layer that came up to my breast and a sheer organdy layer over it,
with a pleated front bodice, collar and long sleeves.
“Isn’t it a bit dressy for five pm?” I asked Gail as I twirled in front of her.
“It’s perfectly all right,” she replied, “Let’s go.”

The confidence I had disappeared somewhat by the time we came at Eunice’s door.
Still, I wasn’t going to give in to panic.
“Well, well,” Eunice cried when she saw us, “Look who finally came. Melissa,
darling, I’d never have recognized you, just look at you,” she cooed as she led
us in.
We drank tea, ate cake and chatted about one silly thing or the other when
Gail’s cell phone rang.
“Excuse me, ladies,” she said and left the room to talk.
After a long moment of awkward silence, Eunice spoke to me : “I know what you’re
thinking,” she said, “You’re thinking that you’re a big girl now and that mummy
can’t put you over her knees anymore.”
I swallowed hard.
“You won’t intimidate me, Eunice,” I said with all the courage I could muster at
that time.
Ignoring my response, she continued : “But the truth is, deep inside you want to
get back on mummy’s lap. Kick and squeal as she spanks you on your pretty
panties, don’t you?”
I replied by shocked silence.
“And after she’s spanked you, you’ll sit in mummy’s lap and cuddle with her
until you’re all glass eyes and your wee-wee is all hard under your skirts,” she
said.
“Please… I can’t… Gail…” I almost whispered.
“Don’t worry about Gail,” she replied, “You can tell her that you were afraid
mummy would really hurt you if you didn’t do as she said.”
Then, Gail came back.
“Look, I’m sorry, but we’ll have to cut this short, but I have to run,” she
said.
“You go if you have to, dear, but I don’t see why Melissa couldn’t stay a little
longer. It has been years, after all,” Eunice said, “I’ll bring her home
afterwards.”
“You sure about that?” Gail asked.
“Positively,” Eunice replied, then turned to me : “Melissa?”
“Yes, quite all right,” I answered, as though under hypnosis.
“Fine,” Gail said, “Well then, see you.”

“Melissa?” Eunice said suggestively after Gail had closed the door behind her.
Slowly, I got up from my seat and stepped towards her.
“Please be gentle, mummy,” I said, draping myself across her knees.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold myself back, Melissa,” mummy replied, “It
has been a long time. Don’t you think you deserve to be punished for staying
away that long?”
I yelped as she landed the first blow on my silk panties. Kicked and waved my
legs helplessly. I did squeal a lot, but mummy was gentle and I made it through
without crying. When she was done, she let me get up, rearrange my skirts, then
pulled me down in her lap again. I shut my eyes and parted my lips to welcome
her greedy tongue. Soon I was moaning in ecstasy as her hands stroked my thighs,
back, breast, everywhere. Suddenly, she stopped.
“Your dress is very pretty, Melissa,” she said.
“Thank you,” I breathed in reply.
“Though I think it’s too pretty for the current occasion,” she said, “Why don’t
you run to my bedroom and change into the dress I laid out for you?”

I came back a few minutes later, dressed in a pink satin maid’s uniform,
complete with a lacy mob cap, a small white apron and a very full petticoat. I
shuddered with lust and delight when mummy reached under my skirts to caress my
backside.
“Not now, Melissa,” she said as I wanted to get back on her lap, “Maybe later.
Right now, you’ve got lots of work to do. It has been years, after all.”