I am led wearing a simple but colorful silk dress to the grand entrance of the Esterhoven hacienda. There Miss Luana awaits and I humbly curtsy and kiss her hand to bid adieu. For the past few weeks my daily training in proper cunnilingus at times included servicing Miss Luana. She was devine...most succulent.
As a treat, Motamba will drive me to the dock in Lady Constance’s chariot. The two mammoth steeds stand in wait, Sumani’s knowing fingers have brought them to full erection and I am still astounded by their size.
“You’ll need to be blindfolded during the boat ride and on Aruba during the drive to the airport. I will try not to mess your hair.”
A thick strip of cloth is carefully placed over my eyes. She is most considerate and I slur a thank you.
We leave.
Chapter Thirty Four
Matilda
Such a nice woman for whom to work. Dinner at Mrs. Dalton’s apartment! It is Saturday evening and she has thoughtfully suggested an early meal, leaving me much time to hook up with friends and gallivant about Greenwich Village afterwards.
The doorman looks at me with questioning puppy dog eyes. His hand quivers as he picks up the house phone to announce my arrival. I will have to inquire about him. He is in fear.
The elevator whisks me to the thirty-first floor. I am anticipating a wonderful view of the East River and Queens.
I knock and the door opens. I am shocked to be greeted by a rather effeminately dressed maid. She mumbles a salutation, which I do not comprehend. I am staring in awe not only at her brief attire but a very familiar face. It is meticulously made up...but it is male...and it is Mr. Dalton!
I cannot find words. The silence is finally broken by the sound of Mrs. Dalton’s voice.
“Show Matilda in, Teddie!”
Teddie curtsies and steps aside. When he lowers his head I smile at his frilly maid’s cap.
I enter to see my boss in a ravishing long black dinner dress. It accentuates her height. Unlike other tall women, Mrs. Dalton prefers to exhibit her stature and she certainly has this evening.
“Nice of you to come, Matilda. You must see the view since it’s your first visit.
“Cocktails on the balcony, Teddie.”
The maid glides away from us with the grace of a ballet dancer. Mrs. Dalton guides me in the opposite direction, through the living room and to a sliding glass door. She pulls on a handle and we step out onto a balcony. As expected, the view is breathtaking.
As I take in the sight of the 59th Street Bridge and Queens, the setting sun seems to make everything glow. Mrs. Dalton speaks. Rather quickly and obviously wishing to communicate before Teddie returns.
“The first of many tests for Teddie. He’ll be returning to work soon. So
please be demanding. Interacting with others is an important aspect of his modification. Don’t be concerned with his embarrassment. It’s part of the process.”
Our maid steps onto the balcony with a tray of cocktails. Having recovered from the shock of seeing Mrs. Dalton’s husband with makeup and finely coifed, shoulder length hair, my eyes scan below. Mrs. D insisted I not be concerned with embarrassment...and I know to follow her lead.
The hem of the pretty black maid’s skirt is just below the buttocks exposing the full expanse of the thighs. They are hairless and surprisingly voluptuous as are his calves. I am tempted to ask about the hair removal process. It is tough enough for a woman to withstand a waxing. I cannot imagine how a man could regularly undergo the procedure with the hair growing back so quickly.
A white apron highlights the deeply tanned skin and covers the front of the skirt. It bulges and that brings a smile. I know what is beneath.
Glancing further downward I see Mr. Dalton wears the daintiest of high heels with straps encircling his ankles. At least Mrs. D has permitted some degree of precaution. I know of many women who would find it difficult perched atop such footwear. The straps will serve to add support.
“You look very pretty this evening, Teddie,” I finally bluster as smoothly as I can without giggling.
He blushes...like a young girl. Yet I feel no compunction over his humiliation. The scene of the black nurse thoroughly caning him for my birthday flashes to my mind. I feel aroused.
I take my drink and he again curtsies. Mrs. D takes hers and he does likewise and leaves.
“Amazing change is it not, Matilda? And the cost was minimal. He’ll be back to work next week. You’ll notice that he has difficulty speaking...some necessary modifications to his tongue. But I have already cleared his ‘special need’ with the flight attendant’s union. He can still serve passengers though he will not be making any flight announcements for a while.”
My boss smiles and laughs under her breath.