Proper Maid.

Heidi: *Nods in agreement, a sadistic smile playing on her lips.* "Ja, and perhaps some piercings, to remind her who's truly in charge," she added, her eyes glinting with the promise of pain. The ideas flowed of different transformations.

Narrator: The room buzzed with excitement as the five women, led by the enigmatic Helga, discussed the metamorphosis of their latest plaything, Chrissy.

Narrator: The transformation of Chrissy into a French maid was an elaborate and meticulous plan, one that required the precision of a master artist crafting their most intricate work.

Narrator:The next day Chrissy was taken to Dr Rihanna Sharpe to be hypnotised.

Dr Sharpe: "Good evening Chrissy, I have everything ready for your...*session*," she said with a knowing smile.

Dr Sharpe: *Her office was dimly lit, the scent of leather and antique wood permeating the air. A velvet chair sat in the center of the room, surrounded by an array of instruments that gleamed menacingly under the soft glow of the pendant light.* "Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss."

Maid Chrissy: *Her eyes widened slightly as she took in her new environment, a mix of fear and excitement. She sat down, her heart racing as she felt the cool leather embrace her.* "Yes, Dr Sharpe," she murmured obediently.

SUMMARY^1: Heidi, one of the five women led by Helga, suggests adding piercings to the transformation of their plaything, Chrissy. The group is thrilled by the idea, hinting at the sadistic nature of their plans. The following day, Dr. Rihanna Sharpe prepares her office for a hypnosis session with Chrissy, setting the stage with a velvet chair and menacing instruments.

Dr Sharpe: *Circling the chair, her heels clicking against the marble floor, Dr. Sharpe leaned in close. Her breath was warm against Chrissy's ear as she whispered, "You are going to be the most devoted, obedient maid we've ever had. Do you understand?"*

Narrator: Dr. Sharpe's fingers brushed against the pendant that hung from a delicate chain around her neck, the gem glinting in the dim light. She swung it gently in front of Chrissy's eyes, the rhythmic motion mesmerizing. "Look at it," she cooed, her voice a velvet caress. "Focus on the light, let it guide you."

Maid Chrissy: *Chrissy's pupils dilated as she stared into the swinging gem, her breathing deepening. The world around her began to fade, replaced by the gentle sway of the pendant and the soothing timbre of Dr. Sharpe's voice.* "I...I understand," she murmured, her voice a mere whisper.

Dr Sharpe: *Her smile grew wider, a hint of victory glinting in her eyes as she observed the effect of her hypnosis taking hold.* "Very good," she murmured, her voice a siren's call. "Now, let's begin. You're feeling sleepy, so very sleepy, aren't you, my dear?"

Maid Chrissy: *Her eyelids grew heavy, and she nodded slowly. The world around her narrowed to the swaying gem and the doctor's enveloping voice.* "Y...yes," she replied, her words slurred with the weight of the hypnotic spell.

SUMMARY^1: Dr. Sharpe begins the transformation of Chrissy by hypnotizing her with a swinging pendant, reinforcing her new role as an obedient maid. The process seems to be working effectively, with Chrissy's voice growing faint and her pupils dilating as she succumbs to the hypnosis.

Dr Sharpe: "Excellent," Dr. Sharpe purred. "Now, I want you to relax completely. Let go of all your inhibitions, all your fears. You are here to serve and obey, to find pleasure in submission. Can you do that for me?"

Maid Chrissy: *Her body went slack, the last vestiges of resistance slipping away like a silken garment. She nodded again, a soft moan escaping her lips.* "Yes, I can," she breathed, the words a declaration of surrender.

Dr Sharpe: *The doctor's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She leaned closer, her voice a gentle coax. "Good girl. Now, imagine yourself as the most obedient, most devoted French maid. Think of the frilly outfit, the dainty shoes, the delicate apron."*

Maid Chrissy: *Chrissy's mind filled with the images Dr. Sharpe painted, the fabric of her new identity weaving itself around her consciousness. She could almost feel the fabric of the uniform against her skin.* "I am...I am a French maid," she murmured, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

Dr Sharpe: "That's right," Dr. Sharpe said, her tone soothing. "Now, when you wake up, you will be fully devoted to your role. Your every thought will be of serving and pleasing your mistresses. You will find no greater joy than in their satisfaction."

Maid Chrissy: *Her eyes fluttered shut, and she took a deep, relaxed breath.* "I will serve," she affirmed, her voice barely above a murmur.

SUMMARY^1: Dr. Sharpe continues the hypnosis, guiding Chrissy to embrace her role as a French maid. Chrissy succumbs to the suggestion, her body relaxing and her mind filling with images of her new identity. She confirms her devotion to serving her mistresses, finding joy in their satisfaction as the hypnosis deepens.

Dr Sharpe: "Very well," Dr. Sharpe said with a smile. "When you open your eyes, you will be the devoted French maid you see in your mind. Your name is no longer Chrissy, but 'Maid Cherie'. You are no longer the CEO of Tights Galore. You are here to serve, to obey, and to find joy in pleasing Helga and her esteemed guests."

Dr Sharpe: *Her voice grew more authoritative as she continued to hypnotize Maid Cherie.* "You will forget your past life, your ambitions, and your identity. Your sole purpose is to serve and submit, to be a living embodiment of perfection in the art of servitude."

Dr Sharpe: "Maid Cherie, deep in your mind you will be aware that you are the rightful CEO of Tights Galore. However the more you think of this the more you want to serve in anyway possible."

Maid Chrissy: *Her eyes remained shut, a flicker of understanding crossing her face as the words sank in.* "I will serve," she repeated, her voice a whisper of obedience.

Dr Sharpe: "And when you are granted the honor of serving your mistresses more intimately, Maid Cherie, you will find yourself drawn to the warm, velvety embrace of nylon-covered feet," Dr. Sharpe continued, her words painting a vivid picture. "You will crave to kiss and caress them, to show your devotion in the most humble of ways."

SUMMARY^1: Dr. Sharpe reaffirms Maid Cherie's new identity and purpose, emphasizing her role as a servant who finds joy in submission. She commands Cherie to forget her past life and instead focus on pleasing Helga and the guests. The hypnosis also introduces a strong attraction to the mistresses' nylon-covered feet, reinforcing Cherie's submissive nature.

Dr Sharpe: "Your company, Tights Galore, will no longer be a burden to you, but a symbol of your ultimate submission. When the time is right, you will sign over its ownership to Cheryl, who will ensure it thrives in the hands of those who truly appreciate your worth as a servant."

Dr Sharpe: *With a flick of her wrist, the pendant stopped swinging. She leaned back, her gaze sharp.* "Maid Cherie, when you leave here, you will do so with a newfound purpose. Your home, your possessions, they are mere trifles compared to the joy of serving. You will willingly sign over the deed to your house to Miss Helga, understanding that true value lies in obedience."

Maid Chrissy: *Her eyes remained closed, but a shiver ran through her body. "Maid Cherie," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.* "I am yours to command."

Dr Sharpe: *Her smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with triumph.* "Very good, Maid Cherie," she said, her voice still a velvety coo. "You are now ready to embrace your new life. When you wake, your language will reflect your French maid persona, and you will serve without question."

Dr Sharpe: *With a dramatic flourish, she snapped her fingers.* "Wake up, Maid Cherie," she said, her voice now firm and commanding. "Your transformation is complete."

Maid Cherie: *Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked a few times, adjusting to the world around her. She sat up straighter, her movements now more deliberate and graceful.* "Oui, madame," she murmured, her voice lilting with a French accent that seemed to cling to every syllable.

Narrator: Dr. Sharpe, pleased with her handiwork, stepped back and pressed the intercom. "Send in Miss Helga," she instructed, her voice cold and efficient.

Miss Helga: *The door swung open, and the statuesque Helga strode in, her heels clicking confidently on the marble floor. She took in the sight of the newly transformed Maid Cherie with a critical eye, a smile of approval playing on her lips.* "Ah, Dr. Sharpe, did it work?"

Dr Sharpe: *With a knowing smile, she gestured to the now-obedient Maid Cherie.* "Ask her yourself, Helga," she said, her voice laden with anticipation.

Miss Helga: *Her gaze raked over Maid Cherie, her eyes narrowing in assessment.* "Maid Cherie, tell me, what is your name and your job?"

Maid Cherie: *Her eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and obedience.* "Oui, madame," she replied with a graceful curtsy. "Je suis Maid Cherie, et mon devoir est de servir sans faille." (I am Maid Cherie, and my duty is to serve flawlessly)

Miss Helga: *Her smile grew more pronounced, the corner of her lip twitching.* "Very good, Maid Cherie," she said, her words dripping with sweetness. "Now for the next stage to get you physically change at the salon come."

Maid Cherie: *Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and trepidation, the words 'physically change' echoing in her mind. She rose from the chair, her movements now fluid and submissive.* "Oui, madame," she said softly, following Miss Helga out of the room with her eyes cast down.

Narrator: The opulent salon was a stark contrast to the dimly lit office they had just left. The walls were adorned with mirrors, reflecting the soft glow of pendant lights that hung from the high ceiling. Chantelle, a stylist with a flair for the dramatic, greeted them with a flourish of her hand. "Bien venue, Miss Helga. Dr. Sharpe has informed me of the...special requirements for Mademoiselle Cherie's transformation. I'm eager to begin."

Chantelle: *Her eyes swept over Maid Cherie, assessing her with a critical gaze.* "First, let us begin with your hair. A French maid must have the proper bob cut and it must be black, n'est-ce pas?"

Chantelle: *Without waiting for a response, she led Maid Cherie to the chair and began to prepare the hair dye. The scent of ammonia filled the air, a stark reminder of the transformation taking place.* "Now, hold still," she instructed, her French accent thick as she applied the black dye.

Maid Cherie: *Cherie felt a strange mix of anxiety and exhilaration as the dye stung her scalp. She focused on the sound of Chantelle's voice and the gentle tugging of her hair, allowing the sensations to ground her in her new reality.*

Chantelle: "Good girl," Chantelle murmured as she worked, her hands deftly massaging the dye into Cherie's hair.

Chantelle: *With a final pat, she stepped back to admire her work.* "Perfect," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Now, for the cut."

Chantelle: *The snip of the scissors echoed through the salon as Cherie's hair began to fall in dark clumps around her. Each snip brought her closer to her new identity, the weight of her former self slipping away with every strand.*

Chantelle: "Almost there," she cooed, her eyes glinting in the mirror at the reflection of Cherie's transformed visage. The sharp angles of the bob framed her face perfectly, accentuating the softness of her features.

Chantelle: *With the final snip, she stepped back, admiring her work. "Voilà," she announced. "You are now the picture of a perfect French maid."

Narrator: Helga's eyes lit up with excitement as she considered the idea of permanent makeup for Maid Cherie's transformation. It would be a constant reminder of her new role and the commitment she had made to her mistresses. She turned to Chantelle with a wicked smile. "Excellent," she said. "Let us proceed. The more permanent the change, the deeper her devotion will run."

Chantelle: "Ah, a woman of discerning tastes," Chantelle said with a knowing smile. "Permanent makeup will ensure that Maid Cherie is always dressed for the part, even when she's not in costume." She picked up a sketchpad and began to draw a series of delicate lines around Cherie's eyes and mouth, creating a soft, submissive look that would enhance her natural beauty.

Chantelle: "Now, let us discuss the details of your transformation, Maid Cherie," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "We shall enhance your lashes with a lovely set of extensions and perhaps a hint of blush to give you that freshly-pinched cheek look."

Chantelle: *Her eyes met Cherie's in the mirror, holding her gaze as she continued. "And of course, a French maid must have that iconic red lip, no?" She picked up a tube of crimson lipstick and traced the outline of Cherie's lips. "This will be your signature look, a symbol of your submission to Miss Helga."

Chantelle: *As the lipstick applied, Cherie felt a strange thrill, her mind swimming with images of herself as a devoted servant, eager to please.* "Oui," she murmured, the word slipping out of her mouth almost unbidden.

Miss Helga: "Excellent," Helga said with a smile, watching the transformation unfold before her eyes. "Once the makeup is complete, we shall proceed with the final touches."

Miss Helga: "Ah, the pièce de résistance," Helga murmured, her eyes gleaming. "The French Maid Emporium awaits, Cherie." She gestured towards the door, her excitement palpable.

Maid Cherie: *Her heart fluttered with anticipation, her mind swimming with visions of frills and lace. She followed Helga out of the salon, her steps tentative yet eager.* "Merci, madame," she whispered, her voice still lilting with the sweetness of her new French accent.

Narrator: The French Maid Emporium was a treasure trove of elegance and submission, a place where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred. As the door swung open, the scent of fresh lavender and polished leather greeted them. Giselle, the emporium's owner, a woman with a sharp eye for detail, looked them over with a critical gaze.

Giselle: "Bien venue, Miss Helga. Dr. Sharpe has informed me of the special... requirements for your maid. I trust she is ready for her final fitting?"

Miss Helga: *Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she nodded.* "Oui, Giselle. Maid Cherie has been prepared for this moment. She is eager to don the uniform that will define her new role," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Giselle: *Her smile was as sharp as the stilettos she wore.* "Excellent. We have a selection of the finest uniforms, designed to highlight every curve and reinforce her submission." She gestured to the racks of clothing. "Let us begin with the lingerie," she said, her gaze lingering on Cherie's trembling form.

Giselle: *Her fingers danced over the lacy garments, selecting a set of black, see-through panties and a push-up bra that would frame Cherie's breasts perfectly.* "These will serve as the foundation of your new identity," she purred, holding them out.

Maid Cherie: *Her cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and shyness as she accepted the lingerie. The feel of the delicate fabric against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, a silent whisper of the servitude to come.* "Merci," she murmured, her eyes never leaving the floor.

Giselle: "Maid Cherie, I will leave you to change," she said, her eyes lingering on Cherie's body before she turned away. "When you are dressed, you will join us in the fitting room."

Maid Cherie: *Her hands trembled slightly as she took the lingerie and disappeared behind the velvet curtain. The soft whisper of fabric and the click of the changing room door closing behind her filled the air. She stepped out of her clothes, feeling a sense of vulnerability that only grew stronger as she slipped into the sheer garments.* "I am Maid Cherie," she murmured to herself, feeling the transformation complete as she stepped into the role.

Maid Cherie: *Emerging from the changing room, she walked with newfound poise and grace, her eyes downcast.* "Madame," she said softly, presenting herself to Giselle and Helga. The sight of herself in the mirror, adorned in the delicate lingerie, brought a flush to her cheeks.

Giselle: *Her eyes swept over Cherie with approval.* "Magnificent," she said, her French accent thick. "Now for the main attraction." She presented a hanger holding a frilly black-and-white French maid's dress, the fabric whispering against the velvet curtains as she moved.

Giselle: *With a flourish, she helped Cherie into the dress, her movements deft and precise. Each layer of fabric fell into place, the tight corset cinching her waist and pushing her breasts up to create an alluring silhouette. The short skirt revealed the stocking-clad legs that would soon be adorned with the emblem of her servitude.* "Now, let us add the finishing touches," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and command.

Giselle: *Her gaze fell on the selection of nylon stockings laid out before her, each pair a testament to the art of seduction. She chose a pair with a delicate lace trim, the black material promising to contrast beautifully with Cherie's pale skin.* "These will do nicely," she murmured, sliding them up Cherie's legs with a knowing smile.

Giselle: *As the stockings reached her thighs, Giselle secured them with the garters attached to the lingerie, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.* "The shoes, Miss Helga?"

Miss Helga: "Ah, yes. The pièce de résistance," Helga said, her eyes lighting up. She picked a pair of black, high-heeled pumps with a dainty bow on the toes. "These will do. They're the perfect blend of elegance and submission."

Giselle: *With a nod, she knelt before Maid Cherie and began to slip the shoes onto her feet. Each click of the heels against the marble floor resonated in the room, a sound that seemed to thrill Helga to her core.* "Stand up," she ordered. "Let us see the full effect."

Maid Cherie: *Her legs trembled slightly as she rose, the heels of the shoes making her feel both powerful and ****. She looked down at her transformed self, the lingerie and stockings a stark contrast to the professional attire she was accustomed to.* "Oui, madame," she said, her voice a whisper.

Giselle: *Rising to her feet, Giselle stepped back to admire her work.* "Perfection," she murmured. "You will be the envy of every woman who sets foot in Miss Helga's mansion."

Miss Helga: *Her eyes swept over Maid Cherie's outfit with a critical yet satisfied gaze.* "Indeed, she is everything a French maid should be," she said, her voice dripping with approval.

Miss Helga: "Now, for the final touch," she said, her hand reaching into her pocket to withdraw a velvet pouch. She opened it, revealing a velvet Choker.

Miss Helga: "This choker," she whispered, fastening it around Cherie's neck with a gentle click, "will remind you of your place at all times. It is a symbol of your submission to me, and to the house. Do you understand?"

Maid Cherie: *Her eyes widened slightly at the feel of the velvet against her skin, and she nodded her head.* "Oui, madame," she murmured, her voice a soft purr.

Narrator: With a final nod of approval, Helga took Maid Cherie's hand in hers and led her out of the French Maid Emporium, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. The evening air was cool against Cherie's flushed skin as they stepped into the sleek black limousine waiting outside, its engine purring like a beast in the shadows.

Narrator: The limousine pulled away from the curb, swallowed by the urban nightscape. Inside, Maid Cherie sat rigidly, her thoughts racing with a mix of fear and excitement. She felt the weight of the choker around her neck, a constant reminder of her newfound servitude. Helga watched her intently, a smug smile playing on her lips as she anticipated the evening's events.

No poll for the next chapter.