The Maid (Femboy transformation)

Last story for the month. Buy a maid's dress that turns anyone who makes a mess into a maid? If you made the mess... well, it won't turn your girlfriend into a hot maid.

The Maid

“Max! For the last time!”

Estelle was sick and tired of having to clean up after her boyfriend – he always left a mess behind whenever he was visiting. Socks left outside the hamper, dirty plates left wherever he’d decided to eat that day – including the toilet. Estelle was a neat, tidy person, and she was sick of her boyfriend’s messy personality.

What was worse, was that Max had decided to play a prank on her.

“Max!” Estelle called out; her boyfriend came trotting into the living room, his hands behind his back as he grinned mischievously.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked. “Is it about the mess?”

“Of course it’s about the mess!” Estelle shouted, angrily motioning at the coffee table, which was covered in coke cans. “I’m not your maid!”

Max chuckled; that was his cue. “Not yet,” he said. “But you will be if you put this on.”

He pulled his arms forward, revealing a maid dress behind his back. The dress was zipped from skirt hem to the low-cut back, and a ribbon tied around the waist.

It looked skimpy, with a pink apron in the front, and lacy hems. Of course it was low-cut.

“The costume shop promised me you’d become the perfect maid if you wore this!”

Estelle was about to lose her mind. “It’s not MY mess!” she shouted. “You want a maid, you put that on and clean yourself!”

Max scoffed. “Maid,” he said, “put on your costume and clean up this mess.”

He’d said the magic words, and the dress came to life.

The apron’s ribbon came undone, and the zipper opened all the way up as the dress wiggled out of Max’s hands. With unbelieving eyes, both Max and Estelle watched as the dress rose into the air, and quickly wrapped itself around Max’s body, zipping him up nice and tight.

His waist seemed to shrink several inches as the apron tied itself around it.

“What the fuck?” Max shouted panicked, pulling at the apron, trying to untie the ribbon at the back. “Estelle! It’s alive!”

Estelle seemed indifferent. “You asked,” she said.

Max’s pants and shirt seemed to have vanished underneath the dress, leaving him barefoot and wearing nothing but the dress and his underwear.

“I don’t like this…” Max mumbled. “Something’s… something’s wrong.”

The dress would make sure on its promise – it would create the perfect maid. For Estelle, that is.

Max felt oddly hot, as if it was thirty degrees Celsius in the room all of a sudden.

He rubbed his arms in confusion – his skin had softened, and it seemed the hair on his arms had become thinner and lighter – had he been naked in front of a mirror, he would’ve noticed his chest and facial hair seemed to have vanished altogether. His short, brown hair was beginning to grow longer as well, but that was the least of his problems.

He felt a weird tingling sensation on the skin of his chest that seemed to make its way down deeper into his body. His chest swelled as the mass beneath the skin expanded, filling up the extra room in the dress nice and tight. His hips and butt swelled and grew, lifting the now seemingly significantly shorter skirt up a little, slightly revealing the bottom of his buttocks – somehow, his briefs had become a pink g-string that wrapped tightly around...

He let out a surprised yelp as a hand suddenly cupped his balls. Estelle fondled them for a moment – they had shrunk a little, but they were still there. Her hand slipped inside the G-string, gently stroking Max’s penis until it got hard. He still had it.

His features had softened, his lips had plumped up. His voice was several octaves higher. Within minutes, his buzzcut had grown to reach his now significantly larger buttocks.

“Thank God,” she sighed. “After seeing your boobs grow like that, I was beginning to worry the dress’s effect was a little too strong…”

“You’re- you’re kidding, right?” Max said, now sounding almost female. “I’m – I’m not a maid!”

Estelle put a finger on her new femboy boyfriend’s lips. “You will be,” she said. “Soon.”

She grabbed his face, pressing her body tightly against his rock solid member as she moved in for the kill – kiss.

Estelle began to French kiss Max – he was resistant at first, but as the dress’s effect took hold, he gave in – the two began a heavy make-out session until they ended up on the couch, where Estelle had Max pinned down.

“M…mistress,” he said. “Can we do this later? I have… so much mess to clean…”

“A little bit longer wouldn’t hurt,” Estelle said. “All work and no play makes Max a dull femboy, after all…”

When Max bought the dress, he should’ve asked more details on how it worked – little did he know, that it would turn the mess-maker into the maid. A subservient, feminine maid to serve anyone they came into contact with until they cleaned their mess.

Estelle would make sure to let the cleaning up of her apartment last a long time – she didn’t mind living in a messy room for just a while longer if it meant having a sexy femboy maid to entertain her around.