28 -TV SERIALS, SANDY THOMAS ADVERTISING "A"

her. The model's firm, perfect butt had made me a little dizzy with desire.

"Don't get too excited, Cissie," Miss Cindy warned me with a mischievous smile. "Nothing's ever going to happen, Cissie. You're my maid now, after all! And I suspect that even if a girl ever did let you...and you got it up, you'd finish so fast you'd have to apologize to her," she giggled.

I blushed a deeper red that her bare bottom but not from the heat of the sun. It was the first time she'd really said anything truly humiliating to me, but unfortunately she was probably right. What kind of man was I? Being her maid had turned me into quite a little sissy.

Miss Cindy had paused and then impishly suggested, "You may give my rear a nice kiss, however. . .in fact I order you to.

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I was so confused and turned on that I'd actually bent down and obediently kissed her firm, curvy behind. Cindy laughed and quickly shooed me off to the kitchen for something. Thinking about her comments and remembering her confident laugh still made me blush.

Back in the laundry room again, I tied on a small pink latex apron, this one thinner and prettier than my heavy housework pinafore. Filling one of the laundry sinks with warm water and perfumed suds, I stretched on latex gloves and began to rinse out my mistress' underthings and sleepwear. I always wore the tight pink gloves when I did her hand-wash things. Not only did they help protect my hands, but the gloves also reduced the chance of snagging Miss Cindy's delicate lingerie or running the impossibly sheer stockings the model preferred.

I carefully hand laundered Miss Cindy's silk panties and bras and other lingerie then rinsed them out before hanging the dainty things to dry on white plastic drying racks. The task took nearly an hour by the time I rinsed out all her Lycra tights, bright workout briefs, swimsuits, and pantyhose. It was tedious work, but I enjoyed it Cindy's expensive little things were all so intimate and pretty! I sometimes did my own special lacy panties and brassieres at the same time. I liked seeing them soaking together.

I had begun to take pride in how perfectly Miss Cindy's household was kept and how well the model was served. Lately I had even begun to have pride in my laundry and ironing, which was the domestic duty I had had the most difficulty learning.

MAID IN FORM "A" 29

Miss Cindy had insisted that I learn to properly fulfill my duties as her personal laundress. She even had me study an old Home Economics textbook on laundry and ironing. The book was published in the early 'fifties and was quite chauvinistic. There were lots of photos of obedient homemakers smiling in their frilly aprons! It was odd that I noticed the bias, because I never would have before. I guess that now that the apron was on the other waist, so to speak, my eyes were opened to such things.

And I also took pride in my pretty mistress' modeling career. Every magazine cover or other success Miss Cindy had was like a feather in my little cap as well. (Although luckily Miss Cindy didn't insist that I wear a maid's cap. She thought they were too old-fashioned and preferred a white satin ribbon tied in a nice bow. "So much more chic," she'd said.)

I drained the sinks and dried my hands when I finished with her hand-wash things. Cindy's pretty underwear was hanging all over the place, making the laundry room rather colorful. I loaded the washing machine with my own daily wear, basic nylon and polyester satin lingerie and ran it on gentle cycle. Miss Cindy thought nylon or polyester satin. were much more practical for a maid's underthings than silk, since everything could be machine washed.

After doing the laundry I fixed myself a quick dinner and then cleaned up the kitchen. Afterward, I took a break from all my housework. I lay down for awhile, stripped down to my bra, panties, and slip. As I rested, I thought about Miss Cindy out on the town somewhere, every guy in sight flirting with her and buying her drinks. Yet, most of them were too intimidated by her beauty and fame to ever ask her out. I was glad they were intimidated, of course.

Miss Cindy had recently begun to talk more and more about men and sex. Unfortunately, she often talked with me about these subjects as freely as she might talk to a girl maid. It really bothered me and made me jealous, and I told her so. "Don't be silly, Cissie; you don't have anything to be jealous about," was her response to my complaint.

I'd wondered if she meant she wasn't doing anything with anybody or if she didn't think I had any right to be jealous.

I got up from my bed and washed my face and freshened my make-up. I dressed in a black cotton evening uniform and a white bib-less apron with thin shoulder straps that crisscrossed snugly down my back. It was a simple style I often