Chapter Six
A Brief Recollection of Things Past
The way it had started out Angela thought she had things pretty much under control. She'd married a good looking rich man, and had managed to keep his meddling sister Vonda at bay. However, she'd had to make some awkward compromises. For one she'd agreed to a battery of psychological tests that hadn't made any sense except that Brandon was fearful he'd end up marrying someone like his mother, a blithering idiot who'd turned into a real basket case they'd had to keep locked away in upper floor rooms like some prisoner.
She'd agreed to the tests without a second thought. She was an intelligent, well educated, well rounded woman. Albeit she had to admit she was a shade on the immature side, and when her sister in law had started making remarks and then suggestions about her attire she'd rebelled.
Her rebellion was ill conceived. The family into which she'd married was filthy rich, and they controlled virtually everything within a five hundred mile radius of the palatial estate they called home. It didn't seem to take long before, through her own lack of judgment, Vonda's meticulous planning, and her husbands overall indifference that she found herself on the losing end.
A few days prior Vonda had either persuaded or coerced her, she couldn't decide which, to get her teeth checked. Her sister-in-law claimed she had an overbite. The result was a personal disaster. The dentist was a close family friend, and beholden to Vonda for most of his clientele. He willingly went along with the whole overbite myth. He'd gotten her under the influence of a combination of drugs, and he had shaved her teeth to child's sizes. Worse, the chemicals he'd used to knock her out had caused some severe allergic reactions; first she'd lost the ability to speak coherently, and second she'd lost significant motor skills in her wrists.
During his last visit he, Vonda, and the maids had literally ignored her when she tried to be included in the conversation about her status. Communication wasn't easy as it was, not being able to talk or write, but they hadn't even tried to pay her any mind. It was as though she were a child; invisible, someone to be talked about, discussed, but never consulted.
Things had been compounded by Vonda's growing hostility toward her and concomitant increased fondness for their primary maid Mary. The way things presently stood Mary had the authority to manage all Angela's day to day routines. In fact, if Mary chose, she could report anything she did to Vonda who in turn might use the information to further degrade or humiliate her. To be sure, she'd already spanked her once in public, and she had reorganized her attire in such a way that most of what she could choose to wear was childish, even infantile. It wasn't as though she could pick what to wear anyway. Everything she wore nowadays was laid out for her in advance by Mary.
If that wasn't bad enough Vonda had taken to letting Mary wear regular street clothes instead of her maid's attire, and it was starting to look as though Mary was beginning to assume more and more of the responsibilities, and concomitant privileges, normally afforded the woman of the house. It was impossible to put it any other way, with Vonda's support, Mary was more the woman of the house than Angela was, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it.
These circumstances were aggravated by Brandon's long absences, first on this or that business errand, then on one or another personal expedition. He was gone all the time, and without his intercession she, Angela, was less and less able to stand up for herself.
The situation wasn't helped by Mary's insistence on being so overtly nice. Angela knew Mary secretly only wanted to use her, that is Angela, as a kind of little play thing, a toy. There wasn't a whole lot she could about it. The other two maids, Marge and Dorothy were sadistic little bitches looking for opportunities to take advantage of her. Mary was her jailor, clothier, hair dresser; literally a substitute parent.
That was Angela's situation as she sat upstairs in her third floor bedroom, well away from the rest of household, with only Mary for company. Downstairs she knew the doctor had come back. He'd come back with more information about her condition, and presumably with medicines to help. Angela knew it wasn't going to do her much good. Vonda and Mary would never let her know anything the doctor said.
Getting Ready to See the Doctor:
Mary sat on the side of the bed and sweetly whispered, "Look what I have for you to wear."
Angela looked at the outfit with alarm. It was another child's romper set.
Mary reached over and took Angela by the wrist, "Come on. Let's get you a nice bath, we'll dress you up and take you downstairs. The doctor wants to see you, and Vonda has some new ideas on how to help you over this current little crisis."
Mary pulled Angela to her feet, walked her to the bathroom, and helped her in the steaming hot bath water. She proceeded to scrub Angela down.
She started with Angela's hair. Washing and rewashing it with a fragrant shampoo. While it was still wet she combed it out, and preset it in two little pigtails. Mary took her fingers and wound the strands into childlike little ringlets
Her hair partially ready, Mary washed Angela's upper body. Using only her hands and fingers she gently wiped and cleaned every nook and cranny. Mary took an extra long time wiping over Angela's pert 34B breasts. Angela's breasts weren't overlarge, but they were good sized, and they were firm and supple. Mary lingered over each one much too long, taking several opportunities to gently squeeze her nipples and rub over her aureoles with the palms of her hands.
Angela found it very arousing, but preferred that Mary stop. However, with her limited vocal capabilities there wasn't anything she could say to stop her, and she was reluctant to use her hands to run interference in as much as they weren't very responsive. She did wriggle herself back and forth hoping to get Mary's hands away, but Mary thought her movements were a pleasurable response and only tickled and fondled her breasts with more ardor.
Mary found ample opportunities to touch Angela in other delicate upper places, especially under her arms, and around the nape of her neck.
Angela was at all odds, if Mary wasn't tickling her she was giving her goose bumps. Mary took her index finger, with its now long nail, and gently curled it under Angela's chin, much the same way one would curl their finger when summoning a dog. It felt good, but it was degrading.
Angela tried to avoid the lascivious look on Mary's face. She wore was a perverse, almost sadistic, little grin.
Mary helped Angela stand so she could clean her lower body. It had been several days since Angela's vagina had been shaved, and the stubble was beginning to show. Mary made Angela stand up with her hands resting on Mary's shoulders while she took a razor and thoroughly scraped away the new fuzz. Once she'd done that she took a special cream and further removed all trace of any hair. She took her fingers and smoothed over the clear hairless flesh. She used her fingertips to softly rub the slit between Angela's labia; pressing ever so slightly inside. It caused Angela to twist and turn.
When Mary had finished Angela's little puss looked like a child's; all smooth, silky soft, and pink. She smiled, "Angela you have the puss of a little girl. You're so delightful!"
Angela enjoyed the pleasurable feeling of having her vaginal hair removed, but she hated the outcome. It didn't just make her look more childish; it made her feel childish. It undermined her confidence and eroded her sense of self. Mary's every instance of nurturing, wiping, tickling, fondling, and teasing only served to further lower her own self esteem.
Out of the bath Mary walked Angela back to the bed, made her lie down, and performed several more highly inappropriate activities. First she further oiled her vagina, and then powdered it, thus making it incredibly sensitive and absolutely virginal in appearance.
Mary took several minutes buffering Angela's finger and toe nails. She anointed them with a clear nail polish. Her nails had been cut back almost to the quick. Her hands, largely useless anyway, looked like a child's, and they'd become so sensitive, even if she could have used them to grip anything, she'd have felt uncomfortable doing so.
Mary took great pains to thoroughly dry Angela's hair, comb it out, and tie it off into two pretty little pig tails. These tails, first held in place with rubber bands, were further decorated with little red ribbons. Mary trimmed the end tips of each pig tail blunting them evenly.
Finished with Angela's hair Mary was all smiles and cheery reactions. She took Angela's face in her two hands, "You're so cute! I love you this way!"
Angela, afraid to upset the maid who'd become her overlord, responded with a pensive smile.
