Stories & Poems

Katrina's Dream (Part 1)

Oh my God!! Madam has permitted her servant Katrina to fulfil Madam’s wish for a corset, made personally for her gorgeous body by Mr Pearl, in Paris. I am such a lucky girl!

Now I must be most careful to ensure that I am allowed to accompany Madam to make quite sure that her visit to Paris is quite perfect.

Now I am quite sure that Madam will make her own arrangements, but I can’t help imagining how it might be ….

On the appointed day, I arrive in a chauffeur driven limousine at Madam’s residence. I am wearing male outer clothes, but underneath I have on a shocking pink bra, panties, suspender belt and sheer nylons. The white shirt under my suit is not quite dense enough to hide the existence of the bra, and the chauffeur is obviously intrigued, but is too professional to say anything. As I get out of the car to knock on Madam’s door, I see a flash of nylon clad ankle as I stretch my leg forward in getting out.

I ring Madam’s doorbell and then kneel down on the doorstep as I have been taught to do, eyes down while I wait to hear the tap tap of Madam’s heels approaching from inside the door.

The door opens and I catch a wave of Madam’s familiar intoxicating scent. She appears to take little notice of me, and I do not dare look up, but says as she drops the front door key in front of me and says “Two suitcases in the dressing room, Katrina. Lock the door after you”.

I get up and hurry inside to collect Madam’s cases. They are smart and distinctive in an ocelot print. I struggle downstairs with them and load them into the boot of the car. Madam has arranged herself in the middle of the back seat , with her coat draped stylishly over the seat and I realise that I am not invited to join her there so I slide into the front seat beside the chauffeur who clearly notices that I am wearing nylons, not socks.

We arrive at the airport. I load the cases onto a trolley and follow Madam to the first class check in. The male check-in clerk can’t take his eyes of my stunningly beautiful, elegant Mistress – and I fully understand his reaction to this extraordinary vision of perfection.

Madam is speedily checked in and her luggage follows. I then have to check myself in – Economy for servants of course – with my single bag. Little does the check-in girl know when she asks “Did you pack your bag yourself” that all the clothes in my bag are female clothes, and the toiletries and other items all are
feminine.

We board the aircraft. Madam no doubt is comfortable in the first class cabin, suitably screened from the masses in economy class, and I do not see her. I sit back in my seat replaying in my mind the images I have seen today. Madam has been wearing a black pencil skirt and a severe white blouse with enough of the buttons open to show a hint a white lace bra cupping those magnificent breasts. Her hair is up and her legs – oh those legs, those legs! – are clad in seamed black stockings ending in black patent court shoes with her trade mark killer heels. As the day is cool, she is wearing a very elegant coat with a high ruffled neck which just clips at the throat.

We arrive at Charles de Gaulle airport. I don’t see Madam. She will have been first off the plane and will know that I will attend to the luggage, so she will have climbed straight into a taxi – Madam never has to wait for a taxi; taxi drivers always rush to be the ones to convey such a splendid specimen of womanhood, so she will be already on her way to the George V hotel.

When I have collected the luggage from the carousel, I find myself a taxi and make the same journey. Arriving at the reception desk at the hotel I enquire if Madam R has arrived. I am not sure what Madam has said about me and my role and I am not sure whether I detect some amusement, hastily suppressed, as they give me the number of Madam’s suite.

I arrive at the door and knock. I can hear movement inside but I know not to knock again. Eventually Madam’s voice comes from inside “Who is it” and I answer “It’s Katrina, Madam, with the luggage”. She obviously didn’t hear properly as she says “Speak up, girl, I can’t hear you”, so I have to repeat my feminine name, while standing there in male attire, much to the amusement of others in the corridor.

The door opens and – joy of joys – I am alone with my Mistress. She has taken off her coat and is sitting at a small table with a pot of tea which she has obviously had sent up by room service.

“Katrina, come and stand here” she tells me. “Remove those ridiculous clothes and let me check your underwear”.

I hastily remove jacket, trousers, tie, shirt and shoes and stand before her in my pink underwear and stockings.

“Katrina, where is your slave collar! I expressly told you that you should wear that today. Have you disobeyed me? I will deal with that later, but you may now kiss my feet”. I need no second bidding. Indeed to hesitate would earn me another punishment, and Madam’s punishments are always ‘interesting’. I am on my knees in a flash to clean Madam’s shoes from her journey, with my tongue, my hands clasped firmly behind my back. Those shoes! Black leather court shoes with heels that must be at least 5 inches high. While I pay attention to those shoes, Madam is reading the hotel information and paying no attention to me. I have to follow with my tongue as she crosses and uncrosses her legs.

Eventually she decides that her shoes are clean enough. “Now Katrina, go and put on your maid’s uniform so that you are ready to serve me”. I take my bag into the bathroom. My uniform that I have brought with me is a French maid’s uniform but the dress is very tight and I have to lace myself very tightly into a corset to be able to put it on. That does take me some time when I do it on my own, and I hope that I will not keep Madam waiting. At home I have devised a system with hooks in the wall which enable me to tighten the corset without somebody helping, but in this hotel room . . .

I put on the corset and laced it as much as I could on my own. I put my breast forms into the cups of the corset and pulled a pair of black stockings up my legs and attached them to the suspenders on the bottom edge of the corset. I slipped into a pair of frilly panties and put on my blonde bob wig and adjusted it in the mirror, but then I had to summon up my courage and ask Madam to tighten the laces so that I could get into the dress.

I emerged from the bathroom, in my heels, underwear and stockings.

“What does this mean, Katrina, appearing before your mistress half undressed?”

“Please Madam, I can’t do up my corset on my own” I said, “could you please pull the laces for me”.

“I expect my maids to be able to dress themselves competently” Madam said. “I will tighten your laces on this occasion, but I will have to punish you for this failure on your part”.

With that, she told me to hold on to the back of a chair, and she pulled and pulled those laces so they were much tighter than I had ever achieved on my own, so that the dress fitted easily, and I was able to present myself to my mistress and ask for her orders.

“First I need you to unpack my cases and put my clothes away, than you will run a bath for me. It is nearly dinner time and I will dine in the hotel restaurant. In fact, Katrina, the first part of your punishment will be to dine with me in the restaurant, but don’t think that that will be for your enjoyment”.

I loved attending to Madam’s clothes. We would stay in Paris for just two nights, but Madam had brought a bevy of beautiful clothes and I reverently hung three dresses, three skirts, several blouses and three coats in the wardrobe, then placed six pairs of high heeled shoes in pairs below (after having checked that they were all spotlessly clean). Madam’s lingerie is exquisite. Just being permitted to hold and feel those delicate pieces of lace and satin gave me such pleasure and I carefully laid each piece in the drawers of the chest.

While Madam continued to be absorbed on her laptop, I moved into the bathroom to run her bath. As you would expect in a hotel of this standard, there was a full array of toiletries provided and I poured a generous portion of bath oil into the hot running water. I checked the towels were ready and laid out a silk dressing gown which I had unpacked from Madam’s case.

Madam had trained me that, when I had finished (or thought I had finished) my duties, I would go and kneel quietly in a corner, facing a wall so that I didn’t disturb her. After I had been kneeling in this way for about five minutes, wondering if the bath water would get cold and whether I would then be punished for getting that wrong, Madam rose from her chair.

“I have decided, Katrina, that you will take off your maid’s dress and join me in the restaurant in your male clothing, but with your corset and all your other underwear as you have on now and your maid’s shoes. There is however one other thing and that is that you will also wear the Alligator”. The Alligator is an electronic butt plug which Madam had had me wear before. “Wear” is a misnomer, actually the Alligator is inserted deep in my anus, and a wire is attached to a small receiver which I fit somewhere in my clothes. Madam of course carries the transmitter.

“I am now going to take my bath. You will dress as I have ordered and go to the bar and wait for me there. I have booked a table for us. You may order a glass of mineral water for yourself. You will not talk to anyone until I arrive.”

As Madam disappeared into the bathroom, I did as ordered and took off my maid’s dress and found the Alligator from Madam’s case. There was no lubricant with it, so I took a deep breath and sucked and licked the body to make it wet before bending over and slipping it into my backside, where it disappeared from view. I then put back on my white shirt, jacket and trousers. Of course, as Madam had intended, my black corset with the bosom amply extended was clearly visible and my shoes clearly showed off the fact that I was wearing stockings.

I found a quiet table in the bar and settled down to wait. Between the corset and the Alligator I found it very difficult to sit still and I found myself wriggling about to try to get comfortable. The corset made me sit very upright. A waiter came over to me and I ordered a glass of mineral water. He looked strangely at me, and I could see him talking about me to his colleagues behind the bar. When he brought the drink, he winked broadly at me and said “Can I get you anything else, SIR” with a suggestive emphasis on the word “Sir”.

I sat there for some time; Madam would quite rightly take her time getting ready, and the different waiters would take turns coming over to me to see if I wanted anything else, but really to see if they could take the piss from this meek person wearing a bra under a male suit.

But Madam did arrive and what a stir she created. She was wearing a purple dress with a narrow skirt which left one shoulder bare and which fell to just below the knee. With her heels and her natural height and posture she attracted the attention of every man and woman in the room. Her hair was up and long crystal earrings dangled from her ears. The waiters’ jaws dropped when she came to my table and sat down. As she approached the table, I could see her looking in her bag, and then WHAP! Alligator sprang into life and I jumped to my feet as a jolt of electricity hit my prostate. “Naughty”, she said “I trust you were going to stand up anyway to show proper respect for your mistress”.

She ordered a glass of champagne and asked for the menu. The way in which she carried herself and spoke made it quite clear to everyone that she was a woman who expected to be obeyed.

When the maitre d’ appeared to tell us that we could go through to the dining room, Madam gets up, and I follow meekly.

“Now Katrina, I will tell you what will happen tomorrow. I have my appointment with Monsieur Pearl at 10.00. I have also arranged for you to attend a salon recommended to me where you will be given a full beauty treatment – that will get rid of those unpleasant hairs on your legs for example. You will spend the whole day, and the next day ‘en femme’ and in the afternoon we will go shopping together.”

The food was brought. Madam ordered a green salad for me, without any dressing, while she had a full meal and drank some expensive wine while I drank water. The relationship between us was obvious to everyone in the restaurant, particularly as Madam made use of the Alligator transmitter and insisted that I sit still while the shock ran through me. I didn’t do very well, and as the wine in Madam’s glass went down, she was enjoying my discomfort.

Eventually she decided that the meal was over. “Katrina, it is time for you to be punished for the mistakes you have made today. Go upstairs and put out my equipment on the bed, then strip to your underwear. You will find cuffs and locks there and you will band over the chair and secure the locks around your ankles and wrists and wait for me.

Of course I did exactly as I was told, and here I am, bound and waiting in trepidation for the return of my adorable, alluring, exotic, very very beautiful mistress . . . .