An extended version of the story previously posted at Sissy Social.

It was a lovely day to have at home alone. My rota days off were few and far between, so it was always a bonus to have good weather. Not a cloud in the sky, and a light breeze, I figured it was the perfect laundry day. Once or twice a year I had the opportunity to wash my fem clothes and hand them out without prying eyes.

No sooner was my wife out of the door, I was digging out my old suitcase at the back of the spare wardrobe and separating out the blacks from the pinks.

Even though I knew the couple next door were away for the week I rang their phone just in case plans had changed. Yes, I had everything worked out. Within an hour my washing line was laden with a row of pink panties, ankle socks and a petticoat and I was pinning up my lacy maid’s uniform when I thought I heard something from the house. At first I assumed it was the washing machine with the second load, but I froze as I heard a woman’s voice and my wife’s friend Geraldine walked out of the kitchen door calling my name and apologising for letting herself in.

I stood open mouthed, wondering what to say. I was relieved I had resisted the temptation to wear one of my maid’s dresses while doing the laundry. Thinking I would just style it out and assume Geraldine would pay little attention to the washing, I greeted her and walked over to kiss her on the cheek. I always had to reach on tiptoe to do this, Geraldine was a statuesque lady.

“It looks like your kinky dress has fallen off the line,” she said once the pleasantries were disposed of. She had a glint in her eye as she surveyed my pink finery.

“Oh dear,” I said turning to the dress, which was just hanging from one peg, the expansive pink skirt fanning out and almost touching the ground. As I dashed back to retrieve and replace the poorly positioned peg I figured I had better come up with an explanation.

“These are an old stage costume I was thinking of taking to the charity shop. I used to look after the amateur dramatic society props,” I lied, before turning back to face her.

“Really?” Geraldine screwed her face up comically in an exaggerated expression. “I never thought of you as an actor type,” she said. “I am sure Ellen would have mentioned something like that.”

“Oh it was years ago, and I was strictly backstage.” I wafted my hand as if it was all far behind me as I made my way past her and back into the house. “What do I owe the pleasure to,” I said trying to change the subject and encouraging her to follow me,

I had a nervous wait as Geraldine wandered over to the hanging dress and checked out the label. I hoped she wouldn’t recognise the brand, Frills and Thrills, a company that specialised in crossdressing attire. To my horror she continued down the line and read a couple of the labels on the panties too. I tried to remember which ones were generic and which were from sissy suppliers. Most of my pink panties were ultra-feminine. Apparently satisfied Geraldine finally followed me into the kitchen.

“I was just dropping off that phone charger Ellen left at ours the other week,” she said, gesturing to a carrier bag on the kitchen table. “Talking of phones, I was going to give Ellen a ring. If I ask her all about your kinky pink dress and all those lacy panties will she back up your amateur dramatics story?”

“Oh… Um…” I hesitated. Unconsciously I looked at the washing machine where my black and white costumes tumbled in their suds. Geraldine followed my gaze.

“Oh how lovely. I assume that is a more traditional French maid’s costume,” she said. “Which production was that from? The Mouse Trap perhaps?”

“Um, some Victorian melodrama I think,” I bluffed, but I could feel myself blushing. “Or a thirties thing, you know the type. All drawing rooms and cocktail parties.”

Geraldine wasn’t really listening. She had pulled her phone from her handbag and was focusing on the screen in front of her.

“Seems strange that a stage company would shop at such interesting stores,” she said as her thumbs typed away. She broke into a broad grin once she had finished and began to scroll. “Slinky Sissy seems rather specialist. Looks like they sell some very interesting gear for guys into lingerie. I bet this would look great with a figure like yours.” She turned the screen towards me. The picture showed a familiar feminised model in lacy lingerie. It was an outfit I had my eye on. A diaphanous baby doll nightdress with fluffy trim and sheer thong panties.

“Goodness.” Geraldine watched my flustered reaction as I tried to decide what to say. “I had no idea. Whoever bought them was probably looking for something risqué I guess. And some of the panties are Ellen’s. I was making up a load.”

“Good point.” Geraldine walked to the window and took a photograph of my washing line. “Maybe Ellen will know more about them. I’ll send a photo and ask her, shall I?”

“Please don’t!” I said quickly, as she began to type. Geraldine eyed me with a predatory smile.

“Well. It seems you have a naughty little secret don’t you Phil? Or is it Phillipa?”

“Yes,” I said defeated. Unable to maintain eye contact, I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the kitchen floor.

“Yes, you have a secret or yes, your maid name is Phillipa?” she pressed.

“No. I don’t have a name,” I said, desperately clinging to denial.

“Oh come now, I bet you sometimes fantasise about being a real maid with a girly name. What is it then, Philomena? Phillis?”

She watched me squirm at the question but waited patiently for a reply.

“Millie,” I said softly. I rarely said that name out loud and it felt scary to tell somebody about it. As if I was bearing part of my soul.

“Oh that is just darling.” She laughed, deep and booming. Seemingly filling the room around me. “Millie the Maid. And, this isn’t some kinky game you play with Ellen?”

“She has no idea,” I said sullenly.

“Really? I am sure she must be a little suspicious, all those kinky websites she told me you look at. All that spanking and leather. Mistresses ordering wimpy guys around.”

“What?” I said snapping my head back up. “How did she find those?”

“Well she didn’t really tell me that. I was just fishing,” she said, smirking from ear to ear. “Looks like I got a bite.”

It really did feel like she was reeling me in. I had lost control of the conversation, so I stayed quiet.

“Do you have another costume? I would love to see you all dressed up.”

“No. I just have the ones in the wash.” I was filled with horror at the thought of dressing for this imposing woman, but I could feel myself becoming aroused. I was swelling in the tight cage I had put on while I had waited for the first washing load to finish.

“What a shame. Never mind, I will just have to pop round and visit Millie another day. When are you next off work?”

“No please, I would be too embarrassed,” I said pleading. “It’s a private thing.”

“No silly, it is just between us now, and if you want it to remain that way I am sure you can satisfy my curiosity.” She stepped forward, grasping my head gently with both hands. She tilted it up so that I was forced to look straight into her eyes. She had that predatory look again. Her narrow, focused eyes fixed on mine.

“Talking of curiosity, I bet you are wearing a pair of panties right now. I imagine sissy washing day is also a dress-up day.”

I was, but I didn’t dare reply. I was beginning to breathe heavily, with a slight panic rising in my chest.

“You are aren’t you? And, you seem quite agitated. Are you getting excited?” One of Geraldine’s hands reached down. I felt her grasp my chastity cage through my trousers.

“What is this? You got some kind of cricket box on?” Her husband Alan was a keen cricketer. I assume she was guessing from experience.

“Yes,” I gasped as she explored. “Kind of.” She pulled the cage upwards and her fingers snaked around my balls.

“No I don’t think so,” she said squeezing and making me jerk forward, anticipating pain. “A cricket box would protect these, not hold them out in front of you. Drop your trousers and panties I want to take a look.”

I did as I was told and soon I was standing with my trousers around my ankles and my panties around my knees while Geraldine knelt in front of me studying my restricted privates.

“Goodness it looks very tight. How do you fit it all in there?” She was pulling the cage this way and that, getting a good view. “There is no way Alan could squeeze his into this thing, it must be quite small to begin with.”

“I am a grower,” I said blushing at her line of questioning.

“Not much though, from what I hear.” She looked up at me with pitying eyes. “Ellen confessed to me that it’s smaller than most. I had my suspicions when Ellen bought that big dildo at my lingerie party the other month. Looks like she was compensating for something.”

“I guess so.” My mind was reeling from the mention of a dildo, but it slowly dawned on me Geraldine might be fishing again. It felt like she was learning all of my secrets. “Did she really buy a… toy.” I couldn’t bring myself to name it.

“Yes she did. Didn’t she show you?” Geraldine affected a tone of mock surprise. “She was probably sparing your feelings. It was a nine-inch monster, modelled on a porn star. Apparently it reminded Ellen of an ex-boyfriend.”

I was shocked. She had always reassured me I was about the same size as the other men she had known. Told me that size didn’t matter.

“Goodness, it’s all locked up,” she said, tracing a finger over the integrated lock. “Where are the keys?”

“Somewhere safe.” I had no intention of telling her.

“Come now,” she said as her fingernails dug into my bared testicles. “I have you by these, I think you should just let me have them and Ellen need not be any wiser. If she knew you liked wearing Slinky Sissy lingerie, she might be tempted to revisit her more adventurous past. I hear her old boyfriend is back in town.”

“No, please. She doesn’t need to know.” I closed my eyes, feeling dizzy with the pace with which my life seemed to be collapsing.

“I tell you what. Let’s swap.” Geraldine said, as a camera shutter sound brought me round. “You get your keys, and I will dig out that dildo. I know where she hides it.”

While I was upstairs retrieving the keys I wondered how I would hide the cage from Ellen if Geraldine left me like this. I mentally totted up the number of days until my next day off and realised it could be a long month. As I left the bedroom Geraldine emerged from the bathroom holding a huge black dildo. She pointed it directly at me with a look of glee.

“Isn’t it a beauty!” she closed the distance between us and poked at my chest with the business end. I took a step back from the intimidating thing, but she kept at it, prodding me backwards into the bedroom. “I bet you can guess who it reminds her of? I think you knew each other in college.”

“Um… I am not sure.” But I knew instinctively it had to be Miles.

Ellen had mentioned Miles he was back in town, and he had a reputation as a ladies man. The idea that Ellen has been using that huge thing while thinking about Miles made me feel betrayed. How often had she used it? It had been a couple of months since the lingerie party and we had probably only had sex once or twice since. I certainly hadn’t seen her in the lingerie she had bought. I was even tempted to try it on, but it was all still sealed in luxurious packaging. Seems like the only thing Ellen had ripped open was the dildo.

“I don’t believe you,” said Ellen pushing me with her free hand, sending me sprawling onto the bed. “You know full well it’s Miles. I had a fling with him too, you know. After Ellen broke up with him. I can see why this reminds her of him. Do you think she moans his name as she pushes it deep into her pussy?”

“Geraldine!” I said, shocked. “That’s my wife you are talking about.”

“Don’t you think we are passed that?” she said. She gestured to the window. “Your kinky pink dress is hanging up for all the world to see, you are about to give me the key to your little cage, and here you are getting touchy about descriptions of masturbation. I bet if I left right now you would be unlocking yourself, tugging your little thing and moaning my name, before I was halfway down the street.”

“No, I…”

“Oh do be quiet Millie. Let’s see, shall we. I will give you two choices.” Geraldine paused and sat down on the dressing table stool, while I awaited my fate. “I could take the key home and leave you all locked up. I bet you would have fun explaining that to Ellen. No, I bet you would try and hide it. Spurn any advances she made. She would probably be reaching for Miles here before you could say ‘headache’.” She placed the dildo on the dresser. “She might even call Miles, come to think of it I could get him to call her. Hint that she is missing him. Craving him. Maybe just tell him the truth, that she is fantasising about his cock while her sissy husband plays dress up in frilly panties.”

“No please don’t.” I resolved that whatever the second option was it had to be better than that.

“Or, you can strip down to your panties, unlock your little thing, and play with it now. Kneeling here while I watch.” She pointed to a spot just in front of her.

I looked at the keys in my hand. It occurred to me I could just tell Geraldine to leave. Stand up to her. Throw away my maid’s dresses and deny everything to Ellen. Just the thought of throwing away my cute black dress with the puffy petticoats and the lace apron made me cringe. I stood and slowly removed my clothes as the sun shone through the window. The breeze was catching my pink dress. It would soon be dry. Perhaps I could wear it for Geraldine this afternoon. Just as I suspected, it was proving to be a lovely day.