Men as Pretty Uniformed and Obedient Maids!

The very best in Illustrated Fantasy Fiction!

There will never be less than FIFTY illustrated male-maid stories online1

With MORE every single month!

These are just SOME of our latest offerings:

MAID FOR THE DILDO! The woman who opened the door was older than he had imagined. And she was fat. She took his hand and closed the door behind him. She was wearing a tight black dress that bulged in all the wrong places. She deliberately stroked the front of her shiny smooth skirt..and he saw the unmistakable bulge at her groin. This fat old matron was wearing a dildo! And her beady eyes glittered with a naked excitement that scared him. Mike felt his knees turn to rubber. He felt almost faint with fear and excitement. "So you want to be a maid?" She said with a wicked grin on her ageing face. Her eyes flickered up and down his body. And suddenly he wished she wasn't so old, that she wasn't so fat! "Yes, yes please." He answered. For a long moment she just stared at him..and he felt his face burn. "And you will wear a uniform?" She said eventually. He nodded. "Yes, I'll wear a uniform." He answered faintly. She took a deep breath before saying, "Well we both know what YOU want...I take it that you don't understand what I want?" And suddenly he KNEW. She wanted HIM! Now HER face goes red. "Let's be perfectly clear about this; your duties will NOT be confined to the kitchen!" The silence is deafening. Mike stared at the bulge in her tight skirt. He tried to imagine sharing a bed EVERY night with this grey-haired woman...and he hesitates.

MOTHER-IN-LAW AS MUMMY! Her mother wants to 'raise' him as her baby-girl, so he will become her uniformed satin maid! His wife placed the lace and satin bonnet on the bed. Mike stared. It was a ridiculous creation, made of shimmering pink satin it had lots of white lace and masses of pink and white satin ribbon. It was the kind of thing babies wore in the thirties. An outrageous FEMALE baby bonnet! Mike experienced a weak-kneed dread. His blood turned to ice-water. "No...I won't..I won't wear THAT!" He whispered fearfully. Even Jenny had the grace to blush. She too thought it was a bit 'over the top', it was her mother's idea. She tried to reason with him as she placed white nylon wrists gloves next to the bonnet. "Its a bit late to be saying No...you've already worn my dress!" Mike's eyes had gone wide as he saw the gloves. "This is your mother's idea..isn't it?" Jenny became angry, "Yes. And Mummy is right. You can't become a woman, or a wife overnight. You have to LEARN how to female!"

BELTS AND BOOTS! He could clearly remember the very first time she tied a belt around his waist. They had spent most of a rainy summer afternoon in her mother's bedroom. Janet had tried on some of her mother's clothes and shoes. He had been trying to find a cloak, or something that would resemble one. Janet gave him a long purple nightdress to wear saying, "That's just like the outfit the King wore in that film we saw." Brad was doubtful. The nightie was certainly the same color, and the material was the same...stiff and shiny...but...?

"And you can use this for your sword." She held out the wide black leather belt. There was nothing unusual in the belt. It was a common sight now to see females wearing wide belts to emphasize the new hour-glass look. But to Brad it was stunning. Even before he wore it he experienced a stab of pleasure. Young girls are often acutely aware of vibration, of mood change...and Brad's demeanor had caught Janet's attention. She watched him covertly. Acting instinctively she wrapped the shiny black belt around his waist. His sharp intake of breath, the sudden stiffening of his limbs confirmed her suspicion that something unusual had happened. She tugged it tight and buckled it. Brad seemed frozen. Janet pulled at the material of the nightie...the tight belt had given him a female shape. With his thick mop of curly blonde hair and the satin nightdress he looked very girlish. Janet found herself becoming excited without knowing why. "Turn around...walk over to the door." Brad obeyed...like an automaton. Robotlike! "Take your shoes off...I want you to try these...." She showed him a pair of her mother's high heeled shoes. Black patent leather with an open toe and ankle straps.

"It's only a bloody frock!" Doris shouted at her husband. "For a whole week you've told me you're willing to live life as I've lived it....that you'll actually try being a housewife for a few days. And what happens? You're terrified of wearing a skirt!"

Alan shrugged. "I never thought in terms of wearing your clothes. My point was...well, that if I did your work for a time...and you had to accept all my responsibilities we'd understand each other better. I still don't see why I'm supposed to make an idiot of myself by wearing a frock!"

Doris kicked off one of her high heeled shoes. "Oh yes. You're willing to be a housewife...but what about wearing high heels for hours? How do you think it feels wearing a girdle for a day? You cannot possibly act the part of a wife unless you accept that their is much more to being a woman than doing housework. I'm expected to clean and dust all day in ridiculous high heels and restrictive underwear, and then I have to get myself looking pretty in time to welcome my husband home from the office. Don't you understand?"

He bit his lip. "Yes...I do. It's just..."

Doris frowned. "You know I think you really are scared of wearing skirts...no...I mean really frightened...frightened that you'll like them!"

Alan flushed. "Rubbish!" But his denial lacked conviction.

"The only person who'll see you in a skirt is me. So, unless you have another reason...?" Doris held out the frock. Her eyes challenged him to refuse. Alan stared for a moment. It was a pale yellow cotton thing with a Peter-Pan collar and long lace edged sleeves. He eventually accepted it from her. His face went a deep pink as he stepped inside the open skirt.

You CAN be my wife! And Mummy will help! Jim held the bra by its shiny satin shoulder straps. His wife sat next to him on the edge of the bed. 'Do you want me to draw the curtains?' She asked softly. Jim nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The room went dim, and she stood over him. 'I'm not asking you to do anything I don't do every single day of my life.' She said, a touch of impatience in her words. Jim blinked, looked up at her. 'You're a woman. You have breasts. That's why you wear a bra!' He told her bluntly. 'No!' She replied sharply, 'Women have had breasts for thousands of years, the bra was only invented fifty years ago - by a man!' Siting next to him she took hold of the bra. 'You think I wear this because I want to? Society demands that I wear it. My body is reshaped every day, to please men. Look at what it does - see the way the cups separate and hold-up the breast? Is that natural? Of course not, we women are expected to offer our breasts, to men. Feel the steel wire under the cups...' Jim touched the under-wiring and sighed, 'I understand what you're saying. But...' She ignored him saying, 'The steel wire forces my flesh upwards. Feel these little buckles on the shoulder straps? They are cleverly designed so we women can shove our breasts even higher - for men!' Jim licked his lips, 'If I wear a bra, what does that prove?' She smiled grimly, 'I've already told you. I'm not going to wear a bra unless you do. I'm not going to wear an apron, unless you do. They are both symbols of what you expect me, the wife, to be. I will not do the housework - unless you help. I will not reshape my body to please you - unless you do the same. You have to know, all of the time, what you are doing to me. How I'm feeling.'

'And this is all your idea?' He asked deliberately. Sally lowered her eyes. Her face went pink. 'The apron and the housework was my idea .' He nodded thoughtfully, 'But the bra was your mother's idea?' She shrugged, 'That doesn't mean it isn't the right thing to do. Listen, the average middle-aged male has breasts larger than most twenty-year old women! If a bra was merely functional why don't men ever wear them?' He took a huge shuddery breath. 'OK. You've made your point. So, men like seeing women in pretty bras. Are you saying you enjoy seeing me in a pretty bra?' 'You haven't been listening, we wear them because we are told to! we wear them because men like to control not just what we do, but how we are shaped!' 'And you and your mother want to control me.'

THE PERFECT LOVER "You've tried men, and you've experimented with girls...now I can offer you the best of both!" Lisa was intrigued, and doubtful. "Not some kind of sissy?" Martha shook her head, "No. A real man, handsome and virile, but a man with breasts! A man with long smooth legs and decent hips, a man who has all the sensitivity of a woman, and one who has been thoroughly trained...to submit. The perfect lover" "Sounds too good to be true....but I'm interested." Lisa answered. "I'm arranging a small....demonstration...for a select few. I'll make sure you get an invite, but as you and I are friends..." she slid a photo across the table, "...a preview." Lisa examined the photograph of the stunning young blonde. The girl in the photo wore only a white bra and her full round breasts were clearly visible. The matching lacy suspender belt rested on wide womanly hips and the sheer stockings showed-off long ivory smooth thighs. Lisa looked puzzled. "She's very attractive...but I don't see....?" Martha slid a second photo to her. This one showed the same girl, only this time she was naked. Lisa's eyes widened in shock. She whistled softly. "I don't believe it." She whispered, her eyes never leaving the photo. "How on earth....?" "Come to the demonstration. And bring your cheque book, I'll be holding an auction afterwards." Lisa placed the two photos in her handbag. "I'll be there, I'll be there, Martha."

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