Chapter Two:
An Isolated Event:
Cathy stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Steve wanted her to help out at a small dinner party he was planning for the evening. He explained that technically she'd be more a server than anything else. He'd invited another woman. A woman he needed to help him with some of the charitable work he was involved with, and that she, that was Cathy would act as the go between carrying small trays of snacks, drinks, and plates back and forth from the kitchen and the temporary bar that would be set up in the corner.
He explained she shouldn't feel at all demeaned or debased by this since she should know how he felt about her. He explained he thought this was a small favor to ask, but if she decided she preferred not to he'd understand and she could take the night and go to a movie or something.
Of course, she agreed. She'd fallen in love with him.
Though Steve was the man whom she mistakenly thought would be her next victim, she'd come to the conclusion she'd do just about anything for him. In fact, all things considered, she was a little disappointed she wasn't allowed to do more. He seldom took her to bed, though when he did the experiences she had were just this side of Heaven. She'd put up with some of his odd preferences like the ribbon thing hoping he'd let her become a bigger part of his work at the hospice. Though he was always making suggestions and getting her to do doing things to change her appearance she didn't care, she just wanted to do things for him. He made her happy, and she wanted to reciprocate. He hadn't said he loved her yet, but she was sure he did, and one day soon he'd say it.
She couldn't explain why she felt the way she did; it had crept up on her so slowly, one day he was this geeky fool she intended to rob, the next he was her Prince Charming. Cathy walked over to the bed to look over the outfit he'd laid out for her.
It was wrapped in several small boxes. She started opening each one, going from the top to the bottom. The first box contained undergarments. There was no brassiere, but she hadn't expected one. Steve had expressed a strong personal dislike of what he called 'women's shoulder harnesses'. There was, however, a beautiful white camisole. She slipped it on. It was tight fitting but not uncomfortably so. It was translucent and trimmed with eyelet lace; quite feminine.
She liked the camisole immediately. Though she still felt a little troubled about her breasts, she was confident it was only her imagination, but they somehow seemed to look and feel smaller. She knew they were certainly firmer. Steve didn't seem to mind. He's repeatedly complimented her on her small well shaped body, and that included her breasts.
There was a pair of white panties' slightly ruffled around the edges of the pants legs, and they had a small bow in the back near of base of her rear end. These were made of silk and gave the impression of translucency but in fact were not. The elastic waist fit comfortably. She slid them on. They felt sexy and naughty. They were a tiny bit tight at the inseam. The cleft of her vaginal lips puckered through slightly, that hardly mattered, since the panties would be concealed beneath whatever dress he had bought for her. However, the tightness did make her feel a little self-conscious; a gentle reminder of her sexuality.
She opened the second box. Looking at its contents she knew this was why he hesitated earlier and commented that she might feel a little humbled. The second box contained a black maid's uniform. It was really quite pretty, naughty and sexy looking without being cheap. It was made of a black silken type of material but not silk. It had a low delicate sheen. Stunningly black, with short sleeved, capped shoulders, and with stiff, heavily starched, white cuffs that sat comfortably at not quite mid bicep.
The top of the garment fit loosely. It had a thin cloth belt with a tiny black buckle. The blouse portion buttoned up the front with the tiniest black pearl buttons, and ended at the top with a beautiful white peter pan collar, again like the cuffs stiffly starched. Though the collar was a little tight and a little uncomfortable; when she looked in the mirror she immediately forgot the discomfort. As far as maid's attire went it was, if not exactly stylish, certainly pretty.
The skirt portion was equally attractive. Slightly pleated it fell to just above the knee. Beneath the dress was a small white apron. She slipped it around her waist, just above the thin belt, and tied it off in a neat bow.
The third box certainly contained her shoes and nylons. She opened it expectantly. She wasn't surprised. Inside was a pair of shiny black leather shoes. They were high heeled, but she could tell they weren't more than perhaps two inches at most. Accompanying the shoes were a pair of white ankle length nylon socks. She slipped into the socks. The tops were trimmed in lace. She folded them over, and then slipped into the shoes. Each shoe had a small black strap in the front. She tightened the straps and stood up. They were a little tight, maybe a little uncomfortable, but she recognized that had more to do with their newness than size.
Cathy walked back to the mirror and looked herself over. She was adorable. If this didn't excite Steve then nothing would. She supposed she should feel a little put off; what, being asked to play maid for his guests at his dinner party, but she wasn't doing it for them. This was for him. If he liked this; God knew he liked other odd things; then she liked it too.
She stepped into the bathroom to prepare her hair and her make up. She knew the rule with regard to her hair. She liked it tied back in a neat but small pony tail. She brushed and combed it into the appropriate shape, tightened it in place with a small rubber band, and finished it with a pretty white bow that covered the rubber band.
She applied her make up just the way he liked; earth tones around her eyes, black mascara to make her already long lashes look even longer, a tiny tad of eye liner, just a smidgen of pink on her cheeks, and a hint of pink lipstick. She put her tinted contacts in.
If there was one thing about herself she despised it was her mousy dark brown eyes. Shit brown, that's what they were. All the really beautiful people had blue, or green, or hazel eyes; not her, she had old dark brown eyes, good for nothing nobody notices brown. They weren't even that good. Still a young woman she was on the borderline between good old fashioned myopia and a genuine need for bifocals. She'd always hid the problem well. Steve had caught it though. He saw it right away. It wasn't till she saw his contact lenses and his regular glasses that she knew why. His eyes were as bad as hers.
He'd also picked up on her hair right away. Ever since she could remember she's played the rinse game. Just a little light rinse and her ugly duckling dark brown hair turned to a beautiful dark flaxen with blond highlights. Actually is had always been a lot more than just a light rinse; it usually took hours at the beauty parlor, or what her father used to call the 'ugly shop.' Talk about the mean ugly man who had been her father. She'd almost forgotten her mission in life. Damn you Steve! I thought I knew who I was before I met you.
Yes, he'd seen the dark brown roots. He'd persuaded her to get it back to her natural color. What a jerk. He was clever that one. He knew just what to say. He said he liked the dark brown better. It was something of a first; the first time a guy, any guy, had ever said things about who she was in her natural state and liked it. Everybody else, and she meant everybody, wanted her to be something else. God she hated men. They were cold, selfish, indifferent, and sexually self absorbed. All of them; but then there was Steve. He was so odd.
She just couldn't get Steve off her mind, not ever. He liked her. He just liked just her, like how she really was! He had his peculiarities; his had his kinky preferences, but they were silly kinky not mean or hurtful kinky. She didn't think of him as some kind of weird fetishist, but he had his own ideas. She didn't like them much actually, but she pretended to like them because he did. When she got him down the aisle she'd change some of that, when she got him down the aisle.
She stood back and checked herself out. The uniform, the hair, the make-up; she was convinced she couldn't look better. Of course, she'd rather be wearing a cocktail dress and be a direct participant in the dinner, but if this was what Steve wanted, then tonight, this is what he got.
A Pretty Girl Gets a Present:
A short time later Steve drifted into the bedroom. He walked in, and was immediately delighted at the way she looked. Cathy looked the classic young serving girl; nothing of the supposed woman of the world who'd first crossed his path weeks before.
