Chapter 10
Paula Le Grande made a final inspection of the apartment, humming to herself as she went about the chores. Tonight was Peter's homecoming. Of course, none of the guests would know it. It wasn't about to be announced. Peter would simply stay missing for a long time, an unsolved crime. Only after the publicity was over could she make a rightful claim to Madison's fortune... well, all the details puzzled her, but Julia had that all worked out. She was so much more exciting than Bobbi had ever been, turning onto those leather clothes and domination.
She went into the bedroom and opened a drawer, reflecting on just how well she'd handled the speech to the press a week ago, fitting in the part about Betty the nanny, then breaking into tears. Madison had come across with the money, and that would hold her until the old geezer kicked off.
She picked up the slender riding whip and ran it through her hand. It would be some time before she'd be able to get together with Julia. She'd be going off to Mexico for a few weeks of well-earned vacation. But somehow, the details would all be covered by Julia, it would all work out. Besides, she'd have Peter back. Thinking of him, she cracked the whip down over her hand, fantasizing how it would bounce off his buttocks. Sweet revenge.
The figure at the end of the chain moved a bit awkwardly on the high heels, as if she weren't quite used to them. Still, her figure made up for whatever dexterity she may have lacked. She wore a maid's uniform, or a modification of one. A black lacy bra fitted around her shoulders and back. The garterbelt of black matched the black hose, that fit snugly to the slender well-shaved legs.
Yolanda held the other end of the chain, tugging it slightly as she put the girl through her paces, walking her back and forth across the floor. Yolanda wore her black leather corset and boots as she paraded the girl back and forth to the amusement of the woman in the black miniskirt who sat on the couch.
The chain disappeared under the girl's white lace apron, and when it was tugged, the apron would pull up in front, revealing that it was attached to a gold ring that was attached to the flesh of the girl... only now you could see that it wasn't a girl at all.
"We'll have to tape that down before we take him," Julia said from the couch.
"I've shown Petite how to do it herself, isn't that right."
"Yes madame," he-she at the end of the chain replied with a curtsy.
The voice was deep but very feminine. The face was covered with pancake makeup. The eyebrows had been shaved. As Peter-Petite had a light beard it had been no problem to cover. The mouth was painted full and red, and full hoop earrings hung from the ears. If it hadn't been for the fact that his hair was short, a person would have thought the person a girl.
There was one thing though that was troubling when you looked deep into the blue eyes. The eyes had a glazed look not unlike the look of a schizophrenic. They never really focused on anything, though a person would have to look carefully to tell for sure.
Peter-Petite was not unlike a person in a mental institution in fact. But it hadn't taken drugs or shock treatments to achieve the placid expression. No, Julia had sensed the madness within Peter, and had exploited Peter's vulnerability to the hilt. When his mind could stand no more conflicting images, he had retreated into himself, and he had come back out inside out.
He remembered his former life as Peter as a dream. But it was safer in here where he didn't have to talk unless first spoken to. He knew that he was going to live with his mother, but that he must never mention to anyone else outside of her and the people here what had happened to him. Otherwise, evil people could get him and hurt him.
Now the only way he could ever be hurt is if he made a mistake that displeased whomever he was serving. Then they could take him across their knees and spank him... but they only did it for his own good, to protect him from the really big hurts that he'd experience if he ever tried to be Peter again.
He knew that his name was Petite now, and that he was a girl. He was never to flirt with men, though, they were nasty. He could be polite to them, but shouldn't go any further than civility required.
He was always to address his mother as Mssss. Le Grande.
He was never to talk about his background, with the exception of a few carefully-phrased lies that had been programmed into his skull.
He should never disobey Paula.
It had been fairly easy to program him once he snapped. He would need more training as far as how to handle himself as a woman, but Julia knew that Paula would relish handling that job.
It was about time to dress him in a more sedate maid's costume for they would have to leave soon. The wig would be placed on, and Ms. Le Grande would have a new maid.
"Petite, come here," Julia said in a quietly authoritative voice that the maid had learned to key on.
When she got to the couch, the woman's legs were spread apart and she pointed at her naked beaver. Without a word, Petite fell gracefully to her knees and began lapping the creamy patch. It seemed that she'd done this sort of thing a long time ago, way back in the distant past. Only now, there was a different taste mixed in with the raunchy cuntjuice-lipstick that was it. Her own lipstick was coming off her mouth as she ate the pussy. She laughed inwardly as she ate the pussy, noticing that there were traces of lipstick on the woman's big cuntlips now. She was mildly stimulated by the activity, but she couldn't under-stand why Yolanda and Julia wanted to do it all the time. Oh well. She hoped that the next person, her mother, Ms. Le Grande treated her as well as she'd been treated here. Oh all the practicing at walking was rough, but they were so nice to Petite. But she couldn't figure out why everyone shouldn't be nice to Petite.