Triona had just graduated from the university and needed a job to hold her over until she could find a position that she really wanted as a marine biologist. She had sent out over a dozen resumes but none of them had panned out yet and the bills were piling up on her kitchen counter faster then she could pay them. She flicked her long curly red hair over her shoulder as she scanned the local want ads in the paper, turning her nose up at the ads for fast food workers, assembly work, and the other low paying jobs that the uneducated people fought over, and almost missed the ad for a live-in maid in the housekeeping section.
‘Wanted, Live-in Maid for a private residence. Benefits, Good pay,
room and board provided. Light housekeeping and cooking skills required,
no experience necessary. Apply in person at 419 Rialtio Drive.’
“Damn. I could do that.”
Triona grimaced at the thought of being a maid, but the financial side of it sounded good to her. She glanced over at the pile of unpaid bills on the counter and made up her mind.
“What in god’s name does a maid wear anyway? I better look the part if I want this job, because I sure as hell don’t know anything about it.”
Triona changed her clothes and put up her hair in a bun, peeked out the window to see if the apartment manager was anywhere in sight, took a deep breath, and walked out her front door.
Stepping off the cross-town bus, Triona checked the address one more time, and walked three blocks down Rathbride Drive until she found the address.
The two-story rather large old style victorian house stood back from the street nestled in a small grove of poplar trees. She walked down the paved drive that was bordered on each side by a manicured lawn towards the house, listening to the small rustling of the leaves in the trees as a gentle breeze made its way through the maze of branches. A gardener kneeling in a flowerbed looked up for a moment to watch her pass by and, with a nod of his head, acknowledged her, and then went back to his weeding. Triona ignored his friendly nod instead preferring to act like she simply looked through the gardener. Triona climbed the front steps, crossed the porch, and knocked sharply on the door.
Charles opened the door to find a young woman standing on his porch. Her rich-red hair was pulled neatly back into a bun, her big brown eyes shone defiantly back at him with a touch of superiority. She wore a white pin striped blouse tucked neatly into a black pin striped A-line figure hugging skirt that just stopped over an inch above her knees, and a pair of black, high-heeled secretary type shoes covered her feet. Clasped tightly in her two hands was a copy of the local paper.
In a gentle baritone voice, Charles inquired, “Can I help you?”
Triona held the paper up in front of her and replied in a rather snooty tone, “I am here in response to the ad in this paper.”
A look of confusion crossed Charles’s face as he tried to listen to what the young woman was saying while he studied the way she filled out the blouse. “The ad? What ad?”
Triona rolled her eyes a little and tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice when she answered, “The ad for a live-in maid. You are hiring a maid — aren’t you?”
Charles blinked his eyes. “Oh yes, of course. You are here for the 'French Maid' position. I’m sorry; I was a little preoccupied for the moment. Why don’t you step inside and we will discuss the matter in the living room?”
Triona stepped inside, not knowing whether to snigger or correct the gentlemen she had just met and hoped for employment from. ‘Perhaps I’ll let it slip she thought to herself smiling, “French Maid” indeed!! What was is this - the 1800’s? He does seem a little stuffy and probably simply to him this is how you speak of a house maid’.
Charles opened the door a little wider and let Triona into the house, leading her into the living room. When they had both sat down Charles described what he was looking for and began the interview. “Now then, what is your name?”
“Triona Prissybottom.”
“And your age?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Have you any experience in this line of work?”
“My cooking skills are…” and continued easily answering questions for the next few minutes.
Triona boarded the cross-town bus in a daze. She had never really expected to get the job, but she had. Charles had even given her an advance on her salary to pay off the overdue rent and her other bills that she owed, in cash. The job itself seemed easy enough, her employer, a widower for two years, lived in the house with his son, and needed someone to cook the meals and keep the house clean. In exchange, she was to receive a salary, a place to live, and her utilities and meals were provided. When Triona asked about the benefits mentioned in the ad, Charles seemed a little vague, but did mention a vacation and retirement plan of some sort. Triona didn’t pay much attention to that, she wasn’t going to be there that long. Besides, she had a feeling she could manipulate her employer quite easily, and create her own benefit package to suit her own purposes.
Monday morning dawned bright and clear, and by mid day the temperature had already reached the eighty-degree mark. As the two men unloaded the last of her belongings from the back of the truck and carried them to her new room on the first floor of her employer’s house, Triona unpacked her things and arranged them as best she could. She had sold off the things she didn’t need over the weekend, so there really wasn’t a lot to move. She had kept her bedroom furniture, her clothes, a television set, a small collection of books, and a few odds and ends that she couldn’t part with. Triona moved a rocking chair into a corner of the room and stood back to see if that was the spot she wanted it in, when a noise at her door drew her attention.
Standing in the open doorway, leaning his slim, wiry frame against the doorjamb was her new employer’s son, Edward. He was nineteen years old, and in the fall was going away to his first year in college as a business major. She had met him earlier that morning and seemed to be the quiet, reserved type, and quite confident in whom he was.
Startled by his sudden appearance, Triona turned to face him quickly, and after a moment of hesitation, asked in quite a stern overly assertive tone, “Yes?”
With a wide, amused smile, Edward replied, “Usually the maid curtsies before she addresses her betters.”
Triona’s eyes opened wide and her face flushed with the indignity of the implied insult. “My betters? This is the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth; I am here to cook and clean for you and your father, not to be some doormat from the past. And where did you get the idea that I even know how to curtsy? I do not want to be subjected to this kind of demeaning behavior from you or anyone else and, believe me, I will not tolerate it for one minute. Have I made myself understood?”
Edward tried not to chuckle as he listened to Triona’s tirade. “My, you do have a temper; goes with the red hair, I suppose. I am sure that this misunderstanding will be straightened out this evening when father gets home from the office. Feel free to wander about the place and get used to your new home until then.”
“Your damn right this will be straightened out when he gets home! Now get out of my room!”
“Yes Ma’am,” Edward giggled as he walked down the hall and Triona slammed the door closed after him.
That evening, Charles set his briefcase down on the hallway table and walked into the kitchen to find Edward eating a sandwich at the kitchen table.
“Hi there Edward. How did your day go?”
Edward looked up and smiled. “Pretty good. How was your day?”
Charles groaned, opened the refrigerator door and took out a carton of milk. He opened the carton and sniffed it, wrinkled his nose in disgust, and put the milk carton back in the refrigerator. “Don’t ask. Did the new maid get settled in today?”
“After a fashion. She got her stuff moved in around noon today, and I went up to check on her. Now that girl has a temper, let me tell you.”
“What happened?”
“I told her she should curtsy when she saw me, and she chewed my ass inside and out.”
“Oh god, Edward, what am I going to do with you. I send you to school, buy your books, and what do you do? You rip the pages out of the books.”
“Well, it turned out all right. She came out of her room looking for some aspirin. Said she had a headache.”
Charles sat down in a chair at the kitchen table and rubbed his face with one hand.
“And just how did that solve the problem?”
“I gave her a sleeping pill instead.”
Charles stared at his son. “How long ago?”
“About two hours I would say.”
“Damn, you are good.”
Edward sat back and winked.
“Just like my daddy taught me.”
“Hurry up and finish that sandwich, and then boot up that computer program. I will see if I can find an appropriate collar for Triona to wear.”
Triona awoke slowly from her unplanned nap and sat up on the edge of her bed, momentarily confused by her new surroundings. The confusion faded as she remembered the recent events of the day, and in its place her irritation grew. The clock on her nightstand read 7:25. Triona raised her hand to rub the back of her neck, her eyes widening in surprise when her fingers felt something that did not belong there. Triona stood up, crossed the room, and stared into the mirror above her dresser. Around her neck was a leather collar, about an inch wide, with a red crystalline heart-shaped pendant nearly two inches in diameter hanging from the front of the collar. Her deft fingers moved quickly to the back of her neck to unclasp the collar, but instead of a clasp or buckle, she found a padlock.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Triona stormed into the study where Charles sat, calmly reading the paper and Edward lounged behind a desk.
“All right. I demand to know just what you two jokesters think your doing!”
Charles lowered his paper a little and smiled. “I see you are awake. Did you enjoy your nap?”
Triona screamed across the room, “The hell with the nap! What is with this collar? Get it off me now!”
Edward glanced over at his Father. “See? I told you she has a temper.”
Charles nodded. “Start the program Edward.”
Triona’s temper flared with the realization that the two men were completely ignoring her.
“What program? What are you two idiots talking about?”
Edward pressed the enter key on the computer and immediately within the heart shaped pendent could be seen a faint flickering of light, small at first but steadily growing in both size and intensity. The wearer could not see it however; instead Triona, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring, prepared to unleash her tongue on both father and son. She then felt the leather encircling her neck become quite hot and very tight, by the time the glowing pendent had become bright enough for Triona to have seen for herself, it was already far far too late.
Triona felt a change engulf her entire body and mind. The first thing that she noticed was her body refused to move, then her mind began to go blank, one section at a time. Her eyesight went first, then her hearing, and then her memories, until all that occupied her mind was one vast void. No sight, no sound, nothing. It was like she was a television set and someone had turned her off for the night. Triona’s body collapsed gracefully to the floor and lay there, unmoving. Charles shifted his gaze from the inert body and re-focused on his son.
“Is she all right?”
“Sure.”
“What did you do?”
Edward stopped entering commands in the keyboard for a moment and suddenly grinning to himself answered his father. “Well actually I did her a favor, it seems to me like she was getting ready to give us a piece of her mind. So I took all of her mind for her!!!” Edward beamed at his father relishing in his well timed use of wit and humor, but Charles just returned his son’s joking remarks with a confused look on his face.
“It may be easier to explain if you think of her mind as a complex computer. I simply erased her 'RAM drive', closed her 'information intake portals', and shut down most of her 'operating system'. I left her life support systems operating of course, but for the most part her hard drive is clean. Whatever life memories she once had are now permanently deleted.”
Edward then turned to his father with a smug look on his face and added in a tone that matched his expression “Ohh, and I very much doubt if she could even spell marine biologist now, all her years of learning in school and college is also gone, totally and completed obliterated. Now I have to transfer the program files that I wrote for her. When I am done, she will be the perfect maid.”
Charles put down his paper, walked over to the desk and stood behind his son’s chair, peering over his shoulder to watch the computer screen. “She will be the perfect French Maid!!! Edward, don’t forgot what I told you; how long will it take to download the files?”
“Probably a couple of hours. Of course there may be a few bugs in the programming that I will have to straighten out later, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Charles smiled “Good boy, good, and the special requests — they will be ‘programmed’ too?”
Edward turned to look at his father “Yes, father,” he said grinning, “trust me after I am done this bimbo will act and sound so French even her own mother wouldn’t recognize her.”
Charles grunted with satisfaction. “You have done well Edward. I have a little business to take care of, call me when you are ready to reboot her.”
Edward nodded and went back to the keyboard, while Charles walked out of the study. He paused halfway across the room and looked down at the young woman lying on the floor. “Maybe I will call her 'bimbo' as her new name; she should be named as she looks, don’t you think, although that wonderful red hair has grown on me.”
Edward glanced up and grinned. “You’re the boss, call her whatever you want, she will respond to whatever name I put into her air-filled head.”
Charles laughed, and walked through the study doors and into the hallway. “See you later, son,” he called back, “I have a certain Ms.Prissybottom’s bank accounts to close and other odds and ends to cover up.”
Some hours later, Charles sat in the chair idly tapping his fingers on the hard front cover of the book he was reading, looking over the rim of the book from time to time to watch the still form of the woman lying on the floor in front of him. “How much longer will this take?” Charles lowered the book he was reading and turned to his son.
“Have a little patience father, I will have her awake as soon as I can.” With that he finished typing and leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Well, I’m done. Shall I wake her?”
Charles sat up straight in his chair and gave Edward a nod. After a few keystrokes from Edward, the woman lying on the floor began to move. She lifted her head and slowly looked around her, and a moment later she gracefully rose to her feet. She turned to face Charles, and curtsied.
“Bonjour Monsieur, how may I be of service?” Triona then held the curtsey at its deepest point until given instructions to do otherwise.
Triona now spoke with a low demur sultry french accent that Charles had simply insisted on to Edward that the new maid must have. And what Edward had said was correct, Triona’s own mother would not have recognized her daughter’s voice now, neither for that matter would Triona, providing that she still had the mental ability to comprehend her own voice.
Charles and Edward shouted and hugged each other. Charles slapped his son on the back and then turned to the maid, who still stood in her deep curtsey, patiently waiting for whatever may be needed from her.
“How do you feel, Triona?”
Triona made no response, “That name is meaningless to her now, father!!” Edward explained. “Just call her maid or French maid or bimbo, or simply address her and she will respond.”
Charles looked confused. Triona held her pose patiently.
Edward continued, “Try to understand she is not responding to her name, she is responding to the fact that we are her Masters!!! Whenever we require the use of our French Maid.”
Charles’s face seemed to become one massive smile as he listened to his son’s explanation of what they were now in possession of. And possession was the only way to describe Triona’s relationship to father and son now, no longer was she simply an employee, she was now totally and completely their possession, their ornament, their play thing, their perfect French Maid!!
Charles rubbed his hands together. “Well. This calls for a drink.” Let’s have a round of bourbon to toast our new ownership.” Turning to the now motionless and totally docile Triona, Charles barked his first order at her: “French Maid, two bourbons on the rocks”
Triona responded without a moments hesitation she rose from the curtsey she had still being holding and spoke again in that demur french accent, sounding as if english was only her second language, “Oui Monsieur; at once Monsieur.”
Triona walked over to the sideboard and poured the drinks carefully, served them, and then stood off to one side and curtsied again; holding the curtsey at its deepest and most uncomfortable point, all the while smiling broadly as the program now running through her mind instructed her to do so.
Father and son raised their glasses and toasted their new possession, and then began to make plans for the future. Charles ended the conversation and called over to the maid. “Maid!! Come over here.”
“Oui Monsieur?”
“Tell me, what is your first memory?”
“The feel of your carpet on my face, Monsieur.” Charles nodded. “What are your primary duties?”
“To keep your household in order and to please you and Master Edward as you desire, Monsieur.”
“Are you to leave the house?”
“No, Monsieur. I am not to pass through any opening that leads to the outside except when told to by yourself or Master Edward.”
Charles nodded once more. “Good. Now maid, I want you to remove your clothing.”
“Oui Monsieur.”
Triona removed each article of her clothing from her body, folded it neatly and placed them in a neat pile on the floor.
“Also remove all your jewelry maid, the perfect French Maid has no need for such things other than what her strict dress code dictates.”
“Oui Monsieur”
Charles held out his hand.
She quickly removed her ear rings and a ring on her finger and placed them in his outstretched hand. Triona totally ignored her new red crystal choker, as if it was simply part of her and not something worn for decorative purposes.
Charles pocketed the jewelry and turned to the Edward. “Well done Edward.”
Charles turned back to the maid. “You are dismissed for the night, maid. Get yourself something to eat and then go to bed.”
“Take the clothing on the floor there with you and dispose of them in the garbage.”
“Oui Monsieur,” Triona complied, dutifully picked up her own street clothes and walked to the kitchen. Without a moment's hesitation she threw them into the garbage chute in the corner of the kitchen. She then went to her bedroom, but instead of returning to her first floor room that Triona had moved into earlier that day, she now obediently made her way up to the attic level and entered the much smaller original servant's room. This was a very small bland gray room, containing nothing more then the bare essentials. Only a small bed, a dirty wash sink and an open wardrobe, filled with uniforms; six brief french maid uniforms all hung perfectly neatly in a row and beneath them six pairs of high heel shoes.
The only other things in the room were a vanity dresser covered with make-up, a full length mirror hung on the wall, and also there was a small box with shoe polish and some old cloths under the bed, for the maid to make sure her high heels always shone while she was on duty.
Laid out neatly and precisely across the bed was another french maid uniform, a perfect match for the others hanging up, complete with apron, head piece, gloves, and holdup stockings.
The naked redhead slowly looked around the room, her large healthy head of vibrant red hair the only color in the otherwise gray room, even the uniforms were all black and white.
Then Triona slowly began to dress herself, taking close on to twenty minutes to attire herself perfectly, all the while a voice was telling herself inside her vacant mind in her sultry french tones ‘this is how a perfect french maid must dress.’
The uniform was a very stylish, tailored affair, consisting of a black satin and taffeta dress, fully trimmed in crisp white lace, with short sleeves also trimmed with white lace stopping well above the elbow with big puffed shoulders. It fitted in tight around her small 24 inch waist with a plunging neckline designed to both lift and bring together her voluptuous breasts, and create the most stunning and eye-catching cleavage possible.
The lace trimmed hem of the dress came down far short of the lace embroidered tops of her black, seamed, sheer stockings; stockings that were so fine the old Triona would have ruined several pairs attempting to put them on. But for the french maid it was all in a day's work as she placed her foot into them and then ran them up her long slender legs in one graceful fluid movement so perfectly in fact that they needed very little adjustment after that. When she stood upright, there was still a good portion of her upper thigh exposed between the tops of her stockings and the white lace trimming of her black satin skirt; a skirt that was just short enough to expose the lower part of her firm ass cheeks when she bent over.
Her apron was made of the finest white taffeta, this time trimmed with fine crisp black lace, however running across the top of the apron was a long wide length of the finest black satin ribbon that money could buy. It was with this ribbon that the french maid attached her apron around her waist, using the ample lengths of the wide strong ribbon to tie a large perfect bow that would nestle neatly in the small of her back. The weave of the ribbon had a natural springy bounce to it that added to the form and structure of the bow, keeping it standing well proud of the maid's backside, accentuating the curves and folds within the bow and also promoting and enhancing a healthy and vibrant bounce of the bow and flutter of the end trails with each and every teetering step the french maid was to take in her new servitude.
Her fingerless gloves were made of very fine black lace that covered the backs of her hands and over her wrists. Her delicate head piece was to sit daintily in her large mane of rich red curls, a simple white lace band with numerous long slender black ribbons running off behind it through her hair, streaming out over the back of her empty head to dangle and flutter freely between her shoulders, these ribbons would also bounce and dance merrily in unison with the large ribbon bow sitting prettily on her pert backside as she walked.
Triona then placed her new six inch high heels on the floor in front of her and stepped up into them, black patent leather shoes with a high shine matched only from the sparkle of the all-chrome six inch heels. Raising her entire frame a good half foot further off the floor.
Thanks to Edward’s programming Triona could teeter about in her new high heels without fear of ever falling. She also now unknowingly but obediently –thanks to Edward’s software skills– walked with a definite sway to her hips and strong twitch of her ass with each and every new step she would now take, simply following the programming inside her vacant head. This new sway and twitch did wonders in magnifying and enhancing the bounce and flutter of all Triona’s new ribbon decorations, that was to make watching her teeter anywhere such a joy.
After she was finished dressing, she then began the process of checking her uniform in the mirror. Showing no recognition to her own reflection anymore, simply making sure her attire and appearance were exactly as Edward had programmed her to look, which is exactly what Charles had instructed.
Triona spent a further ten minutes closely examining her uniform and making sure her seamed stockings were perfectly straight and her head piece was on correctly and that her uniform was adjusted to show off her ample 36D cleavage to best effect, all the time reminding herself with her new sexy and sultry french accent ringing inside her head ‘this is how a perfect french maid must dress.’
After spending over thirty minutes dressing herself Triona silently sat herself down at the vanity dresser and started the long and arduous task of applying the perfect french maid make up. This process was by far the largest part of Edward’s programming, with additional subroutines to make sure the french maid constantly checked and rechecked her make-up every twenty minuets while working and re-applying or touching up her make-up every hour. Triona was never one to wear much make up normally, especially not every day, but that was then and this is now.
No longer was her mind full of college education and grand lofty ideas of making a name for herself in her chosen field of science, writing papers and applying for research grants that would take her to far off shores.
Now the confines of this house defined her world, and its upkeep and the happiness of her Masters was paramount to her existence. If Triona — the 'old' Triona — was here in this room, she would have run screaming out if it; with only one goal in mind, to bring these two men to the cold light of the law. But the real Triona was not here, at least her mind was not, instead her body, her perfectly formed body, slowly and quietly transforming herself, itself, with just one goal in its programmed mind, ‘become the perfect French Maid’.
And with this mantra repeating over and over inside Triona’s vacuous head she slowly and dutifully began applying her french maid make up.
The first thing Triona did was to apply several coats of a clear lip balm to her modest pencil line lips, then ignoring the tingling and prickling sensations in her lips that followed, Triona covered her entire face, neck and shoulders in a very fine powder foundation. The special formulation of this powder began going to work straight away on Triona’s skin by lightening and slightly blanching her overall skin tone as well as permanently covering and removing any slight imperfections or blemishes she may have had.
Triona’s face became as flawless as a new china doll’s before it has its face painted on. Which was precisely what Triona was now going to do to her own face. Her blank vacant expression staring back at herself in the mirror was as empty and void as the perfect blank canvas she had just made of her face. After the foundation Triona began with a panstik, slowly and carefully building up her base, then quickening a small bit she expertly did her mascara and eye shadow, after first attaching new and permanent ultra-long false eyelashes. Triona reshaped her eye brows in fine delicate arches which, together with her eye make up, gave her a constant ditsy brainless bimbo surprised look to her eyes, just as Charles had requested from Edward and just as Edward had added into her cosmetic programming.
Next Triona returned to her lips which by this time thanks to the special lip balm she had applied earlier had now become completely swollen and positively plump, Triona had just given herself quite a dramatic lip job!!! and now her former thin pencil line mouth had a new much heavier set of lips which had also not only being filled out thoroughly, but had been drawn together into the center and pursed very noticeably outwards, giving the french maid a highly over exaggerated perfect permanent bee stung pout. Any normal woman, Triona included, would have totally freaked out on seeing their lips manipulated and enlarged in this way but the french maid simply leaned forward and obediently began applying the first of her many many coats of high gloss lip paint, of which there was a plentiful supply on the dresser; all one color…… fire engine red.
All the time inside her empty head still hearing herself over and over non stop in her new sexy and sultry french accent ‘this is how a perfect french maid must look.’
Triona had always prided herself on her long healthy nails, and perhaps a small part of this pride had made it through the mind erasing process of Edward’s software or perhaps she had simply been programmed to look on her nails that way, whichever it was Triona spent a considerable time applying countless coats to her long well manicured nails, some hardening, some strengthening, others base colors and later ones giving her nails a higher and higher gloss sheen, until finally several coats to prevent chipping and cracking. Again there was a good supply of all the nail products the french maid was to need every day, and all of it in one color…… fantastic, shocking, fire engine red.
Finishing lastly on her blusher, the french maid was very generous giving her cheeks a very dramatic and vibrant glamour look, but always with every aspect of her make up application stopping just short of making herself look too over-done and cheap. Charles had insisted to Edward on wanting a living doll parading around for his admiration and pleasure. And so the french maid would follow its programming and tart itself up to become not only Charles’s living doll, but perhaps if it was lucky, each and ever day, come that little bit closer to its most important goal…‘become the perfect French Maid’.
Triona finished her french maid transformation paying some attention to her glorious red mane. Giving her hair a good scrunching, putting some life and bounce back into her strong curls, leaving it tumbling and cascading onto her shoulders and framing her pretty, vacant DOLL face.
And still all the time inside her empty DOLL’s head hearing herself over and over non stop in her new sexy and sultry french accent ‘this is how a perfect french maid must look.’
Taking her time, Triona sat in front of the mirror for many hours. After she was finished she rose and returned to look at herself in the full length mirror, and once again began the long slow process of studiously examining every inch of her attire, both her make up and again her uniform where thoroughly checked and rechecked to make sure that she was the flawlessly made up, well presented perfect French Maid.
t was during this final checking of her attire that Triona suddenly pulled down the front of her uniform pulling it under her large well rounded very pert 36D breasts, she mindlessly reached over to the dresser and picked up another tub of clear cream and began to massage it into each breast, paying most attention to her areolas and nipples. After doing this for five minutes Triona replaced the tub onto the dresser and then stood to attention motionless facing herself with her tits still exposed for ten minutes until the cream took its effect. After the ten minutes Triona’s aerolas had grown and enlrged and were more than three times their original size also her nipples were now swollen rock hard and prominently jutting out from her breasts.
Triona’s nipples were now very swelled as well as totally and permanently erect, as well as being considerably larger than they had ever been before. All this time the mindless french maid simply stood and watched as her breasts swelled and enlarged, after the ten minutes Triona then as programmed began to slowly at first use her long fire engine red painted finger nails to flick both of her nipples to stimulate them even further, when they started to grow even larger Triona then quickened her flicking and also began to roughly pluck and pinch her now monstrously inflated areolas and nipples. The old Triona would surely have stopped in protest and pain at this rough and nasty onslaught on her nipples, but Triona the french maid simply stood silently and obediently continued until the allotted timer in her mind had expired. Then with total disregard for the state of her nipples the french maid pulled the top of her uniform back up and spent several minutes adjusting and re-adjusting until again it gave her the perfect eye popping cleavage she had had previously, except now with the addition of any man’s dream nipples. Rock hard and standing well proud, showing very very clearly under the tight constrains of her uniform.
Triona then flicked her long finger nails against her nipples some more through the satin uniform, making sure to achieve the hardest and largest nipples she possibly could, as that was all part of the strict dress code for the perfect French Maid!!!
Triona spent a further twenty minutes again studying her appearance in the mirror, taking many, many, many hours, the time she spent getting herself ready for service, this was exactly as Edward had programmed her to do, and exactly as she would do with all her free time each and every morning every day from now on, from 3am to 6am before her working day began.
The real Triona would have scoffed at such a ridiculous waste of her time, but not the french maid, to her this was vital time, the most important time of her day, her best attempt everyday to become the perfect French Maid.
As soon as Triona had spent the long hours as programmed in both dressing and dolling herself up to meet the strict french maid dress code, and then having finished the slow studying, checking and re-checking of her appearance and attire in the full length wall mirror that her new owners had provided for just that purpose.
Triona suddenly stood bolt upright to attention still facing her full reflection in the mirror and still showing not the slightest recognition of her own face or features even under all the layers of expertly applied make up. The french maid was now to be made aware of some new things (in reality simply subroutines that Edward had delayed until the french maid had correctly dressed herself and was ready for active household duties) but to the french maid these were some of the most important truths she was ever to become aware of.
The first being that she was a possession of the Masters of this house, here to serve them and obey any and all instructions given no matter what the circumstances.
The second and perhaps even slightly more important, that it was now her never ending duty to become the most perfect french maid she possibly could, this she now realized was to be a vital part of her existence.
Third, as she was merely a possession of this house she was here to fulfill any and all household chores and cleaning duties even before her masters were aware they needed doing, she was still none the less nothing more than a performing doll for her masters, a living mannequin existing simply to model and show off this wonderful uniform that she has graciously been allowed to wear with pride. And because of that she was under no account free to roam her masters house unless it was to carry out some cleaning duties or pre-appointed task.
And to help enforce this truth to the motionless dolled up docile french maid, for a few moments she could here the old Triona’s voice being used inside her head!! Although the french maid would never be aware it was once her own, she could hear a certain once pompous self-righteous full of herself Triona Prissybottom speaking in a very patronizing, cocky and prissy snooty tone, that the old Triona would once have used on people just like the rude Edward, she could hear Triona’s voice speaking about the french maid….
“HOW DARE SHE EVEN FOR A MOMENT THINK SHE EVER HAS THE RIGHT TO FREELY WALK AROUND THE MASTER’S HOUSE, AS SOON AS WHATEVER TASK SHE IS ATTENDING TO WOULD BE FINISHED, SHE IS AT THAT INSTANCE “USELESS!!!!!!” AND THEREFORE NEVER TO GET IN THE MASTER’S WAY.
HOWEVER SHE IS STILL TO MAKE HERSELF READILY AVAILABLE TO EITHER MASTER IF THE NEED OF HER SERVICES SHOULD ARISE, AND SHE IS ALSO TO MAKE HERSELF AVAILABLE TO BE ADMIRED AS THE PERFECT LIVING FRENCH MAID DOLL THAT SHE NOW IS.”
Instantly with Triona’s voice still echoing inside her empty head the french maid standing to attention facing her own reflection, alone in the early hours of that dark morning, in her small dull servants quarters, became aware thanks to another of Edward’s process delayed subroutines, of the entire layout of the Master’s house. But not only that, she became aware of the placement of every display stand within every room of the house, the brainless french maid living mannequin also became fully aware of the reasons for the display stands and their function within the house, and most importantly of their vital place in the french maids daily life.
The display stands were located throughout the entire house, each one made of high quality polished mahogany wood, about eighteen inches round and ten inches high. In the top of each stand were two shallow holes sized to be a perfect anchor for the chrome high heels worn by the french maid. Whenever the french maid had finished her chores or other duties given from one of the Masters she was at that point — as she was now fully aware — totally useless!!! And an inactive, useless, maid was therefore without delay compelled to display herself on the nearest stand.
This neatly solved both problems at the same time:
Firstly, by making her assume these stands as a french maid ornament she was out of her Masters' way and would not be encountered walking mindlessly around the house. The Masters would also know where she could be located if the french maid was needed.
Secondly, she was also perfectly positioned to be admired and shown off as a beautiful french maid ornament.
Whenever Triona was to mount a display stand, she would face the room and step backwards up onto the stand, placing the heels of her six-inch high stiletto shoes snugly into the holes.
The holes on every stand were perfectly spaced apart so as to accommodate the french maid’s high heels when she stands with her feet placed exactly side by side together, making her assume a very elegant stance, she would then stand motionless — at attention — becoming the perfect french maid ornament; a living mannequin existing only to display her exquisite figure and uniform until summoned for again. If both Masters were gone from the house, she would mount herself on the display stand in the front hallway to await their return, but if one or both of them were at home, she would choose a stand in the room that they were in. Some of the main rooms had more than one stand; some even had a display stand beside each chair.
After Triona was made aware of these new truths something suddenly clicked inside her mindless, stupid head; she was aware she was totally dolled up, fully attired, fully trussed up in all her ribbons and bows, checked and rechecked, she was now perfectly presented and ready for duty…… so what was she doing staring at herself in a mirror in this room.
Suddenly she could hear the old Triona’s voice again inside her head, although she would never again recognize her old voice she would hear it each and every day, it would be the voice in her head commanding and bossing her about constantly whenever she was not being ordered about by her Masters. And now Triona’s voice was telling her what she already knew: She was USELESS!!!… over and over Triona screamed at herself inside her vacuous empty head USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!…the former ms Prissybottom screamed and it was loud, deafening in fact, mind splitingly loud, if Triona had had a mind at all!
But in the room there was still only silence. For the screaming was only in the french maid’s head, and she knew exactly what she must now do. Quickly and with a flurry and fluttering of her ribbons Triona left the small room and made her way back down into the house. All was dark and quite now just after 6am; Triona had spent the most part of the night transforming herself into what now teetered, bounced and fluttered across the landing towards the doors of the Master’s bedroom doors. The only noises to be heard were her chromed high heels clicking on the old polished floors, and the loud rustling of satin and taffeta as Triona moved and bounced trussed up like a young girl's new doll fresh out of its box, in her crisp new uniform.
If the old snooty prissy Triona Prissybottom had seen this sight she would surely have burst out laughing at the obvious ridiculous state that this poor unfortunate girl had transformed herself into, simply to become a walking man’s fantasy, and if the old Triona had been told only a few days before that this poor unfortunate girl was to be her, she would have laughed and mocked whoever would think for a moment that she would ever allow anything even close to this happen to her.
But Triona it was; there was no laughing, no mocking or jeering. Instead a perfect walking french maid doll, with old Triona’s voice inside its head telling it what it was now… USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!… USELESS!!!…
Finally the french maid’s short bobbing, mincing steps took it to its goal, the display stand positioned against the wall in between the two Master’s bedroom doors. Here Triona spun around quickly causing her bouncing ribbons to take flight for a moment and spin giddily through the air after her before returning to their place with graceful bobs and bounces.
Triona then stepped backwards up onto the display stand and finding the anchor holes in the dark, her spotless high heels found their home and slid tightly into place.
With a low almost clicking sound the french maid was mounted, her knees locking hard, and her lower back arching deeply in what must have been a very uncomfortable, yet very strikingly elegant and graceful looking pose. Arching its back excessively in this manner and then sticking its huge inflated nipples out as far as possible, aided whoever looked upon this ornament with a far greater view of the french maid’s perfectly formed and well displayed cleavage.
Triona’s body continued to adjust itself following the subroutine programming Edward had added regarding ‘correct posture for the perfect French Maid ornament.’ Triona’s arms now became two rigid limbs held straight by her sides. Her hands became like two stiff paddles, with her palms facing in towards her exposed thighs, perfectly flat with each finger straight and rigid, fingers tips always pointing directly at the highly polished display stand she stood on.
Finally she smiled as programmed, the widest smile she ever had grace her pretty face.
The screaming in her head now replaced with another mantra, “Must become the perfect French Maid Ornament!!!’ With the french maid hearing Triona’s voice repeating this mantra over and over she stood motionless, facing out into the darkness of the landing, smiling broadly, her eyes open and staring straight ahead, looking at nothing and seeing nothing. Even the empty black void in front of her created by night, was nothing compared to the empty void now inside her head, created by the very gifted Edward and his amazing software.
In the pitch darkness of the landing the french maid ornament could hardly be seen, except for the sparkle from inside the red heart shaped crystal pendant still hanging from around her neck.
And posing motionless like this in the empty darkness, Triona — but no longer the original Triona, now Triona the french maid……. the perfect French Maid!!!!….. waited with infinite patience……….
*************************
The morning light slowly lit up the old oak paneled walls of the lofty upper level landing, casting shadows and showing where and how the dust danced in the early morning air inside the large old house. But this morning there was a new shadow to join the many others cast by pieces of ornaments placed around the open plan landing area. And this shadow, too, was cast by a new ornament. Still standing at attention, stiff and motionless as a mannequin, smiling broadly on her display stand, the perfect french maid ornament waited.
It was a little after eleven thirty in the morning when movement was finally heard and Charles opened his bedroom door to be greeted by the sight of the snooty Ms.Prissybottom. Except this time she looked far different to when he had first met her several days before. Charles smiled as he recalled how rude and uppity this young lady had acted towards him when applying for the position of maid that he had placed in the local paper. “But now look at her now!!!!” he mused to himself as he walked slowly around the totally motionless figure of the dolled up Ms. Triona Prissybottom, his grin only widen as he took in her new appearance, her heavily painted dolled up face and totally vacant lovely brown eyes. And her masses and masses of lovely rich red curls tumbling down around her shoulders, he was glad he had decided to keep her in red and not the platinum blonde as the original plan had been.
He could feel himself go hard as he took in her perfect figure trussed up in all her ribbons and lace, in her very sexy new uniform that was tailored to her measurements exactly. Edward always liked looking at pretty young women wearing ribbons; to him a woman couldn’t wear enough ribons and bows. Wondering just how long she had spent last night to create this vision of perfection that he was so enjoying right now, he couldn’t help himself when his gaze fell on Triona’s massively engorged and well inflated nipples protruding quite visibly through her tight figure-hugging uniform, adding to her glorious eye catching cleavage; in fact he let out a little stifled laugh as he wondered what the original owner of those well plucked and pinched nipples would say of their current condition. Then he reach forward and began to flick and roll Triona’s large satin covered nipples between his own fingers, moaning and licking his lips as he realized how hard and erect they had been made, and getting all the more excited thinking that this was now their permanent state, they would always be like this from now on.
Charles stepped closer to the motionless french maid and smiled as he saw how all his planning had worked out perfectly, the ten inches of the display stand together with the six inch heels had lifted Triona in her new apparel up to the perfect height! So that when Charles stood this close to his new doll, her pert tight 36 inch ass cheeks where now at the perfect height to be cupped and squeezed, also her cleavage was now at face level for Charles. Who left no time to waste as he plunged his face deep into the french maid’s breasts as they sat tightly propped up by the uniform. At the same time he reached around and grabbed the french maid by its perfect heart-shaped ass. Charles was in heaven and as he kneaded and squeezed Triona’s ass cheeks he switched between burying himself in her cleavage and rubbing his face over the hard protruding satin covered nipples that the brainless Ms.Prissybottom doll now sported. Triona stood motionless, eyes staring vacant ahead, as Charles enjoyed her big satin wrapped breasts, her heavily dolled up face never changing as she stood dead straight at attention while Charles was eating her cleavage and pinching her distended nipples as hard as he could.
He would stop from time to time and smiling from ear to ear he would leer into the motionless french maid’s doll face and using a mockingly snooty tone to copy Triona’s old manner he would ask, “Well Ms.Prissybottom, how are you enjoying your new job huuuummmmm?, fitting right in are we!!!!!!” Then laughing to himself he would add, “Well I see you’re fitting right into your new display positions!!!!!” Chuckling, Charles stepped back a bit and looked down at Triona’s feet, perfectly positioned side by side in her new killer heels, anchored in place on the display stand. “Those new shoes are just lovely; the rest of your uniform I had measured to fit you perfectly, but your high heels!!!, I knew you took a size six, but I find it far more pleasing to see young ladies such as yourself forced to mince about in shoes that are too small for them!!!”
Then Charles, assuming a look of false care, added “now I was assured that those high heels are a large size four so they shouldn’t be that sore and uncomfortable to wear all day!!!” Then laughing again, he went back to burying his face as deep as he could get it into Triona’s exhibited breasts.
Charles was so engrossed in groping and molesting Triona’s painted, pert, and motionless form that he was totally unaware of Edward opening his bedroom door and standing smiling next him on the landing. Edward coughed and then grinned back at his father as Charles pulled his face out of the french maid doll’s tits with a jump. “Ohh, morning Edward, and what a good good morning it is!!!!”
Edward responded “Good morning father, I see you are getting acquainted with the new staff.”
Charles grinned like a cat that just got all the cream. “Well aaahh, yes, I though it rude not to introduce myself as soon as possible.”
Edward then questioned his father, “Is she all you wanted her to be?” Charles, still looking up at the perfection of the french maid’s dolled up face, replied smiling wildly “Ohh yes; in fact if this was all she did, I would be more than happy.”
Edward smirked. “Good, but she can and will do so much more for us, father; she was a perfect choice, did the prissy attitude play a part in it at all?”
Charles looked at his son and smiled, “Well you could say it was the deciding factor; to turn that uppity, self righteous, prissy, smart ass, rude little snooty cow, into this!!!” Charles turned and smiled at the motionless french maid.
Edward smiled “Yes I was thinking about that myself last night, imagining her up stairs doing this to herself.” Edward then stepped forward and, grinning at the french maid asked, “Well Ms.Prissybottom I'm thinking you’ll be curtsying from now on when you address ME!!!!”. Both men sniggered and laughed as Triona simply stood obediently to attention on her raised display stand like the ornament she had become.
Charles turned to his son and enquired, “How long do you suppose she has been standing here like this?”
Edward told his father “I heard her coming back down the stairs and the sound of her heels on the floor about six-ish; she must have stepped up onto this stand at that time.”
Charles checked his watch and then, eyes widening, looked at his son in awe. “You mean she has been posing here frozen like this for nearly six hours!!!”
Edward gave his a father a loving pat on the back “Ohh father IT will pose like this for six days, weeks, or months!!!! If we desire.” Turning and gesturing towards the grandfather clock that had just struck mid-day, he asked “I mean, how long has that ornament stood there?”
Turning back to the immobile docile french maid with a sudden look of total callousness on his face he began clicking his fingers right in front of Triona’s vacant painted up doll’s features. “Ms. Triona Brainless here has no concept of time anymore, simply duties to perform and orders to OBEY!”
He then finished his cruel statement by –for pure effect– tapping his forefingers strongly on the front of Triona’s empty head. This made the french maid mannequin sway a little on its stand, which Charles quickly stopped by grabbing its ass cheeks again, but otherwise there was no response from the still silent, frozen, mindless french maid.
Charles couldn’t have been happier. “My boy, I am gona have fun with this Doll!!!! You really got her to achieve exactly the look I wanted. I mean just look at those huge, stupid looking, slutty, big blow job lips, and what she did to her nipples; have you seen the sheer size of these things? They’re just monstrous!!!! And that surprised look in her eyes….. mmmmm, son I just love that total bimbo, stupid, dumbass, utterly brainless expression. You know how long I’ve looking for a secretary with that appearance?”
Edward yawned and stretched a little, “I’m hungry; think you can stop molesting it for a bit while it gets us breakfast?”
Charles grinned at his son and then stepped away from the display stand, but still was well erect and was not ashamed to show his son how much fun he had been having.
Edward just smiled and turned his attention to what in his mind was now firmly just an object. “Maid, stop wasting time posing when it’s obvious we need your service; what’s the matter with you, have you lost your mind or something?”
Charles sniggered, hearing how his son so enjoyed mocking and jeering at what he had done to the former Ms.Prissybottom, alas the former Ms.Prissybottom was in no state to be either insulted or outraged. She was merely there to serve and to obey.
Instead she sprang to life quickly straightening out of her uncomfortable mannequin pose and lifting her high heels out of the tight anchor points, she stepped down off the display stand and curtsied deeply before her two Masters. Holding the curtsey as always at the deepest point she purred in her sultry french tones, “Bonjour Monsieurs, how may this one be of service?”
Edward snapped, “Breakfast maid, at once, and hurry up!!”
“Oui Monsieur; at once Monsieur...” With this new command now ringing around inside her head, the french maid rose out of her curtsey and headed teetering in her so very tight killer stilettos straight for the stairs, her hips swaying and ass twitching even more than Edward had expected his programming to have achieved.
When Charles saw this sight he let out an audible yelp of pure erotic pleasure, “Ohh look at her ribbons go!!!”
Triona’s ribbons fluttered and bounced higher with every step, both the ones trailing through her hair dangling freely between her well sculptured shoulder blades and the huge perfectly tied black ribbon bow sitting gracefully atop her tight arse, filling her entire lower back area.
Her heels clicked in perfect time as she reached the stairs and descended them, ignoring Charles’s whoops and hollers as he watched with growing sexual delight as her ribbons and bows bounced and flew even higher as Triona took each step down the long winding grand staircase.
The french maid knew exactly where each and every utensil in the large kitchen was and quickly made the two Masters their breakfast. She then carried it out into the dining room on the large round silver tray and served the two men. Triona performed the duties of a serving maid as perfectly and as flawlessly as if she had spent all her long college years in catering school instead.
As soon as the men had been served the french maid instantly heard Triona's voice telling her repeatedly she was USELESS!!!….. Once more this replaced the command for breakfast that Edward had given her and she quickly mounted herself on the dining room display stand, posed as her instructions demanded, and became an ornament once more until needed again. So quickly, in fact, that she was mounted and motionless for at least five minutes before either of the men had noticed her absence from the table; the food was that good.
When mounted the maid’s mantra changed once again into ‘Become the perfect French Maid Ornament!!!” And so it went for Triona from that day on, even though her head was empty, it was never silent, if not echoing with a command from one of her Masters, she would hear the cocky, prissy tones of a certain Ms.Prissybottom, bossing her about like she was a stupid silly schoolgirl.
Over the next few days the french maid performed her duties flawlessly, preparing and serving the meals for the two men, and keeping her Masters’ house spotless. Whenever she finished her chores, she would mount a display stand and continue her attempts become a perfect french maid ornament, awaiting her next assignment. However soon or later that might be.
One afternoon the french maid had just finished dusting a bookcase in the living room when the mantle clock struck three, she put away the duster, teetered over to a mirror with tiny half steps, her ribbons bouncing and fluttering behind her as always; the shoes would not allow her to walk with a normal stride. Triona spent several minutes closely checking her complete attire in the mirror and she then straightened the hem of her uniform, fixed her cleavage, flicked and pinched her nipples, re-applied her lip gloss, touched up her blusher, re-did her mascara, checked that her stocking seams were absolutely straight and finished by scrunching and tossing her hair out. She then turned and teetered towards the study to report to Master Edward, just as he had instructed her to do.
Triona took two steps into the study where Edward was working and curtseyed, holding the deep curtsey until he noticed her.
“Yes?”
She stood upright and clasped her hands in front of her. “This one has completed my chores, Monsieur. Do you require anything else?”
Edward shook his head. “Not at the moment.”
“Merci Monsieur.”
Triona curtseyed once more, then spinning on her heels headed straight for the study’s only display stand beside the bookcase tucked away in the corner of the room. Triona stopped dead in front of the display stand and then quickly turned 180 degrees, stepped up backwards onto the display stand in the corner, placed the heels of her shoes firmly into the holes, flicked and pinched her nipples one last time, arched her back severely and threw forward her cleavage, locking her knees and elbows, flattening her palms, locking all her fingers and pointing her long red nails to the floor, then smiling the widest most stupidest ditsyest smile she could, Triona froze the smile and stood utterly motionless at attention hearing only ‘Become the perfect French Maid Ornament!’ over and again.
Edward stretched his back while seated in his chair and let his eyes wander around the room, his gaze halting on the motionless form of the french maid on its display stand. A slow grin emerged across his face as he studied her long, slender legs. With a few deft movements, he opened the french maid program on his computer and lounged back into his chair, smiling, fingering and rolling the CD ROM between his fingers he studied the cover one more time. The title was “Maid for Tying” –over 10,000 images of women dressed as french maids, all in either bondage, gags or suspended, some even strung up from their breasts!!
And the picture on the back cover that had prompted him to purchase the disk, the amazing shot of two beautiful blonde twins, both dressed as french maids, and both standing side by side precariously in their high heels on top of two very tall small stools, with their wrists bound behind their backs and — what blew Edward away — hangman’s nooses looped over a ceiling beam and then around their breasts!!!! Just the slightest movement from either of them in their stupid high heels and they would be slipping off those stools into…into what???……. Edward wanted to know.
But more that that he wanted the french maid ornament posed in the corner of the study to know, too!!!!! Edward loaded the CD into the computer and was just about to start downloading the images into the empty spaces inside Triona’s head when he heard his father calling for the french maid. The french maid quickly stepped off the display stand, curtsied to Edward, and left the room but not before Edward instructed her to return immediately after she had finished Master Charles’ chore.
Triona responded with the customary “Oui Monsieur of course Monsieur” she then left and teetered her way to the kitchen, curtseying before Master Charles. “Oui Monsieur you called for me”. Charles placed a large pile of papers on the counter right next to the incinerator chute.
Turning and walking towards the still curtseying french maid, telling her to raise as he approached, then kissing her full on her fire engine red ridiculous bee stung pout at the same time as squeezing her right nipple as hard as he could. “Yes maid, whatever took you, you stupid dumb cow?.……dispose of that paper down the incinerator at once!”
He then pushed past her, yanking his fingers violently off her crushed nipple. As he walked out of the kitchen, stopping on his way, he turned back to Triona who was already on her way to the chute. “Ohh and DOLL— don’t EVER, and I mean EVER, attempt to present yourself to me again with nipples in that sorry state. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!!!!”
The french maid froze and spun around, curtseying and apologizing over and over. “Oui Monsieur, sorry Monsieur, Mon Dieux!” she then began the roughest and most vicious nail flicking assault on her nipples Charles had ever seen.
He smiled smugly to himself as the poor brainless Triona tried to remedy yet another short falling that day in her mindless pursuit of becoming the Perfect French Maid!!!!
“Good; now continue that for ten minutes and then afterward dispose of those papers as ordered.” With that Charles left the kitchen with an evil little smirk on his face, leaving the former Ms.Triona Prissybottom now his living mannequin, his private play DOLL, flicking and pinching her nipples like crazy, her vacant heavily painted face just staring blankly ahead and not showing any outward signs of the pain it was causing itself.
After Triona had flicked, plucked and pinched her new super sized nipples for the allotted time Master Charles had instructed her to, she turned back to the pile of papers and carried them the short distance to the chute. To the empty headed french maid doll the contents in her arms was meaningless; she did not notice the pile of quarterly science journals that Triona had collected over the years previous. Or all the written papers and assignments that Triona had spent many many hours writing and compiling. The leather bound thesis with the name of Ms. Triona Prissybottom embossed in gold on the cover didn’t even get a second look, either did Triona’s photo albums, albums filled with pictures of a life now erased, friends and memories totally unknown to this flawlessly dressed up, made-up, DOLLED up version of Triona Prissybottom. And on top of all these meaningless things, sat an old copy of the local paper, opened and folded onto the positions vacant page, with only one ad clearly circled in ink, standing out from all the rest and yet simple in its content. It read:
Wanted, Live in maid for a private residence. Benefits, Good pay, room and board provided.
Light housekeeping and cooking skills required, no experience necessary.
Apply in person at 419 Rialtio Drive.
Someone had circled that ad; someone had applied for that job……….
With that the french maid opened the chute and tossed all that was left of the previous Ms. Triona Prissybottom down into the fires beneath. The french maid spun on her heels and teetered off out of the kitchen, her stiletto heels clicking and masses of ribbons all a flurry as she went. Not stopping for a moment's thought on the utter destruction she had just performed on years of a young woman’s life's work. The simple fact now for the transformed Ms.Prissybottom was…… her nipples were bigger than her IQ!!
Down below, the paper in the incinerator could be seen, if there was anyone there to see it, a page with the circled ad blackening at first, then curling up and slowly beginning to smolder…. just as one college paper after another turned to black ash. So too, finally, the thesis burst into flames that consumed the elaborate gold embossed lettering, the black stain crept across the jobs page, consuming the ad and finally turning all of the past into dust…..
Edward heard his father call out to him that he had just finished emptying the first floor guest room; the room Triona had moved into on her first day in the house. Edward smiled as he could hear the loud clicking and rustling of the french maid’s return to the study. He opened the CD tray and popped the ‘Maid for Tying’ disk into the PC, then he waited.
The french maid returned and mounted the display stand as before as instructed by Edward.
He then hit the download all button and walked over to the motionless french maid. He smiled into the blank doll's face in front of him and then cupping its firm ass cheeks in each hand, smiled into her perfectly painted face and said, “I do hope you enjoy the show, Ms.Prissybottom, you stupid silly tart!! Just think, french maid, how lucky you are; not only am I going to take your body, but I’ll also be taking whatever’s left of your pathetic mind.”
Edward then buried his face into her massive cleavage just as his father had done that first morning, sucking, licking and biting Edward enjoyed the huge tits with their massively oversized rock hard nipples of the mindless Ms.Prissybottom French Maid.
And Triona???? Triona stood motionless to attention in her programmed mannequin pose, as she always did on the display stand. And she never responded or reacted one bit as she felt Edward’s hands squeezing and kneading her buttocks and then slowly his fingers stabbing and forcing their way into both her cunt and her anus. She never responded or reacted as he made himself a long big wank meal out of her voluptuous breasts and her pumped up nipples.
Triona stood facing forward, hearing her mantra to “Become the Perfect French Maid” and seeing over and over non-stop in amazing colors and crystal clear details every one of the 10,000 plus images of every french maid being gagged, bound and strung up; she even found out what happened to the two pretty blonde french maid twins. But somehow Edward wouldn’t have been that interested to hear about that, even if she could have told him.
Ms. Triona Prissybottom just stood there, motionless, dressed up, made up, DOLLED up, eyes fixed blankly straight ahead looking at nothing; trying her best, ITS best, to become what it knows it must be: The Perfect French Maid!!!!………