Story: Maid in Oaxaca.

Monica Graz is back with another instant classic of the TG maid genre. She's kindly allowed me to repost this story here (this is complete part 1 and beginning of part 2; the full version is to appear on Mags Inc as usual). Excellent research on her part and a great read, as always. 

by Monica Graz

PROLOGUE

Patricia Martinez Torres is a pretty and highly intelligent Mexican girl in her mid twenties living in New York. Her father Diego Martinez Torres is a high-ranking diplomat serving at the UN Mexican delegation. Her mother Alicia Martinez Torres is ‘old money’.  She is the sole inheritor of vast pieces of land and properties in the southern state of Oaxaca at the vicinity of the town of Juchitan.

In the district of Juchitan is the land on the ancient Zapotec people whose language and culture still thrive there. One of the many distinguishing characteristics of Juchitan is its population of muxes (pronounced moo-shays) which means women in Zatopecan dialect, clearly influenced by the Spanish word mujer for woman.

But the muxes are not biological women, they are people who were born biologically male and were encouraged to dress from an early age in female clothes either because they manifested some inclination towards that or because the family had too many sons and needed a substitute daughter to take up female duties within the family, usually with the blessings and the complete tolerance of the society.

Some have their breasts enhanced, others have nose jobs. Quite a number of then are permanently dressed as females wearing the colorful dresses, so popular within their culture. The majority of muxes start very young, before their teens and are trained in womanly ways by family and friends, taking their place in Zapotec cultural tradition that predates the Spanish colonizers.  

Patricia meets Chris Galliano a free-lancing translator in his late twenties, who occasionally work in the UN’s large Translation Department, in one of the many receptions and other social functions she has to attend because of her father’s position. They instantly like each other and a mutual attraction is developed between the two and soon they become an item and make plans to move in together. 

Chris is a small built rather shy person something that Patricia likes and is attracted to. He is totally heterosexual and adores women. He soon reveals to Patricia that he is an occasional cross dresser and he enjoys dressing up now and then. He also reveals to her that he has a strong desire to be a maidservant because he loves to clean and look after other people. 

Patricia is quite intrigued but not very surprised because growing up in the state of Oaxaca she has come across many muxes who were and still are an integral and accepted part of the local society. 

PART 1 – NEW YORK

CHAPTER 1

I’ve met Patricia or Pat as she liked to be called in one of the many functions at the New York UN building and it was love at first sight. Her father was serving as a diplomat at the UN Mexican delegation and I was one of the many free lancing translators at the UN building being fluent in English Spanish and Italian. 

Pat is finishing her Ph.D. at Columbia University in Social Anthropology and her subject is quite intriguing as I was going to find out very soon. 

We started dating and we spent hours talking about anything imaginable. We were both ‘citizens of the world’ as Pat called us from the very beginning with multi-ethnic and multi-cultural backgrounds.  

I had an Italian background from my father and an Irish ancestry from my New York born and raised mother. 

Pat on the other hand was Mexican from both parents but her father was a direct descendant of Spanish nobility that colonised Mexico centuries ago and her mother was coming from the southern province of Oaxaca where her family had lots of land and properties. She had Spanish and indigenous blood since her father married one of the local girls belonging to the ancient Zapotec people.  

We were already seeing each other for more than a month when the unexpected happened. It was Friday night and we had a very nice meal at an Italian restaurant accompanied by the house red wine, a rich Chianti. We were both getting tipsy touching each other amorously when Pat, her dark brown eyes quite sparkling, had suddenly said, “Let’s go to your place Chris, you told me you live alone so let’s go and become more intimate, I want you badly tonight.”  

I was completely taken by surprise because I was thinking to ask her to my place but only after some planning and preparation of the apartment and myself but tonight, I certainly wasn’t prepared for that. 

I tried to get out of it with various excuses but when I saw the hurt look on her beautiful and expressive eyes, I gave in.  

All I manage to say during the taxi ride to my place was, “Please Pat try to be understanding with what you will witness in my apartment, since one or two aspects of my character are a bit idiosyncratic and I never had the chance to talk about them, though I had and still have the intention to do so.”  

She appeared slightly puzzled and looked at me quizzically. I gave an awkward smile at her and she smiled back saying, “I’m all in for surprises Chris dear. For as long as you are not a serial killer or a child molester, I can accept anything. We both are open-minded and citizens of the world, remember?” 

I looked at her and smiling nervously said, “I couldn’t agree more,” thinking at the same time, ‘let’s see how open-minded you can be when you discover that I wear panties and I have a closet full of various female clothes’.Because Pat was about to discover very soon that I was an occasional but very committed cross-dresser!The apartment was located in the Upper Manhattan not far from the UN building and was all I could afford in that part of New York. A single bedroom place with a comfortable open kitchen living space and a nicely done bathroom was all I had. 

The first thing that Pat noticed was how clean and tidy the apartment was, “Nice place you’ve got here Chris, so tidy and clean” she said in her slightly tipsy voice, “You must pay a bomb to a cleaning service for that.”  She added meaningfully. 

I blushed for the first time tonight as I answered hesitantly, “Actually I do all the cleaning Pat, I love cleaning and you are right, it would be above my means to be able to pay a cleaning service. It’s not such a big place after all.”  

“Wow, I’m impressed Chris,” Pat said giggling and continued, “I probably would need a person like you to keep me tidy, I am a very untidy and messy person and my mother and our maid always tell me off. I would be terribly embarrassed to show you my room at my parents; apartment here in NY.” 

And then she added still giggling, “But let’s set our priorities first; any chance for a drink, some red wine perhaps?”  

“Good idea, I think I have a good merlot somewhere in the kitchen. Go and park at the sofa and I’ll join you shortly.” I said quickly trying to change the subject but Pat being curious kept looking around. 

She opened a tall cupboard next to the fridge that I used as some sort of pantry and immediately noticed the two aprons hanging in the back of the door. Here we go I thought with mixed feelings, now she will start asking more questions. 

“I love your aprons Chris. Are you wearing them when you clean or cook?” she said looking at me mischievously. 

Blushing again I answered in a more determined tone, “Yes, as a matter of fact I do. The apron makes me feel more domesticated and more inclined to do housework. It is a pleasant feeling for me Pat.” 

“She examined them more closely now, feeling the material and looking at the design. 

“I quite like them, they certainly have a feminine touch, I’m glad they are not those ugly BBQ type aprons,” she continued as she kept examining the white one with increased interest. 

“The white one is part of a maid’s uniform, isn’t it? I’ve seen it before, my parents’ maid has a similar one, it is matching her dove grey dress,” added, a cunning smile on her face. 

My God, she is so observant, nothing can escape her attention. Should I tell her that the matching grey dress is hanging in my closet and I love wearing it when cleaning? Probably not yet, a step at a time I thought as I answered cautiously, 

“You are very observant Pat; yes, I bought this apron at a domestic uniforms shop.” I said and added trying to change the subject once more, “Let me open this bottle so we can have a glass of red.” 

CHAPTER 2  

“So, how serious are you Chris in exploring your feminine side?”  Pat asked as we were lying in bed, both wearing matching cotton nighties – both mine of course -after hours of very intense love playing.  “I know you are not gay; you certainly have proved yourself tonight but I can also tell that you love being a girl. Would you perceive yourself as a transgender person, have you ever considered of going in transition mode?” 

She looked at me, her soft eyes smiling warmly as she continued talking, “I’m sorry if I ask so many questions darling but I care a lot for you, we are not very long together but I’ve  developed very strong feelings for you.”    

I looked back at her, my eyes in tears. She hasn’t rejected me after all! I fully confessed to her my cross-dressing tendencies, after she saw in my closet all my female clothes and underwear, after she saw my grey maid’s dress. On the contrary she wanted to find out more about and why I was like that, squeezing my hand as she was asking those questions. 

“Oh Pat, I am so relieved that you accepted my other side, my feminine side. I have these tendencies since I remember myself; helping mother at home and occasionally trying her clothes, fraternizing with the maid when I was a teenager, buying whenever I had the chance and a bit of money pieces of female clothing of all kinds, panties, bras, skirts, blouses and the occasional apron.” 

Pat squeezed my hand even harder as I kept talking as if she wanted to encourage me to let everything out, “You understood already that I’m not gay, on the contrary I adore women and their world and of course I adore female clothes of all kinds.” 

I stopped again to catch my breath and wipe my eyes. For the first time in my life I was able to talk so openly about myself.  

“I don’t consider myself transgender and I certainly never had any tendency to go all the way, operation and all that,” I said with conviction in my voice, “But I do love to cross dress. I feel totally transformed when I wear a dress or a skirt and blouse outfit. I feel that I cross an imaginary line and move to a different sphere. You must have noticed already Pat that I’m not effeminate when I am in my boy clothes but I feel that ‘I become totally feminine’ the moment I feel the dress or the skirt caressing my legs and knees, it’s absolutely magic for me!”  

I stopped there because I became quite emotional, I nearly had a sob as I finished my last sentence. 

“Relax honey, don’t get so emotional. I love hearing your story. In fact, I’m much more familiar than you could ever possibly imagine with what you are describing. I came across lots of similar cases. My PhD is very close to the subject of cross-dressing, masculine versus feminine, gender orientations etc.,” Pat said as I looked at her in total surprise. “I know you look surprised but my interest in you is real and genuine. I liked you from the very beginning I set eyes on you, the night we first met. Something about the way you walked and looked at people, the shy polite approach when we first started talking, all that was definitely a plus for me. I love men like you and I hate macho self boasting types.” Pat continued still holding my hand reassuringly. 

“You should probably tell me more about your PhD research Pat, I’m curious to find out what you are exactly researching; you made me very intrigued now. And thank you for accepting my other side so graciously.” 

“All in good time Chris dear, we are both totally exhausted now and my eyes are closing. Let’s call it a night and tomorrow morning we can have a leisure breakfast and I’ll tell you all about my research.” She stopped briefly and giggled as if she thought of something then added, “Probably you can make and serve breakfast wearing your maid’s uniform, wouldn’t that be nice for you?” 

A shock wave of excitement went through my body when I heard her last words; was she asking me to wear my maid’s uniform tomorrow? Wow! All I managed to murmur in a cracked voice was, “I’d love to do that Pat; you can’t believe how happy you made me by suggesting that. Goodnight darling.”  

We turned to a spoon like position, our bodies touching through the delicate nighty material and soon we were fast asleep. 

CHAPTER 3

I fell asleep thinking of tomorrow morning and what sort of breakfast I could prepare for Pat. Probably I should run down the road to the boutique bakery and buy some fresh croissants and a nice marmalade. I remembered that I had eggs and bacon in the fridge; and I had coffee and cream. The last think in my mind as I was drifting away was the grey dress hanging in the closet.  

At about 9.00 I sneaked out of bed, and run to the bathroom. I had a quick shower and put some clothes on to go and get fresh provisions. Back in the apartment I went quietly to the bedroom where Pat was fast asleep. I picked what I needed and went to the bathroom to get changed. I inserted my C breast forms to my bra and then I put on my grey maid’s dress. I buttoned it up and looked at the mirror. A boy in a dress was looking back at me but I didn’t mind that, this is what I was anyway, a boy in a dress. I touched my lips with a pale lipstick and went back to the kitchen to start breakfast. I put my white apron on making sure that the bow was symmetrical in my back and started to fry the bacon. I was certain that the smell of bacon and fresh coffee would wake up Pat.  

I was humming in front the sink washing some cups as I suddenly felt Pat’s hands cupping my breast forms and murmuring to my ear, “Good morning my sweet maid. Your breasts feel so real! You look adorable in this dress and apron. Turn around so I can see you.”   

I blushed as I turned around wiping my hands in a tea towel, “Good morning Pat, you certainly managed to startle me,” I said in a higher pitch voice something that was automatic for me when dressed in my female clothes. “Take a seat, breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes, freshly squeezed orange juice, eggs and bacon, croissants in the oven and some strong coffee in the plunger.”

“Wow, you are spoiling me Chris and I’m really starving,” Pat said half-jokingly as she sat in one of my two chairs next to the kitchen table, still wearing the nighty she borrowed from me last night. “I could get used to this and then you will be sorry because I can be a demanding employer.”  

She winked at me as she started sipping her orange juice. But I got a new shock wave of excitement the way she was talking to me even if she was partly joking. She already knew how to push my buttons. 

“I’d love to be employed by you Miss, I would be a good maid for you,” I replied in the same half joking way but we both knew somehow that there was an element of truth in all this.

 “Now sweetie, let me look at you. You look good in that uniform, neat and dapper like a proper maid should be. Of course, you have a boy’s face but your features are soft and you have a fine bone structure, your hands are not big and your legs are superb, many women would kill for those legs, and that touch of lipstick is just right.”  

“Thank you, Miss,” I said with a sly smile, still blushing, and trying to curtsey in a rather comical way as we both burst into laughter. 

Then I added in a concerned cook’s voice, “Come on, let’s eat before those eggs get stone cold,” and I started serving.  

We were in our second cup of coffee when I asked the question that I was dying to ask since last night, “Now Pat, could you please tell me what is the topic of your PhD, I’m very intrigued to find out.” 

Pat looked at me and said as if she hasn’t heard my question, “Next time you dress for me sweetie you should wear a wig and a nice maid’s cap and some makeup. That I think would complete the picture. And by the way when you are dressed like this is there a name that you use? I know that Chris can be male of female like Pat for that matter, but I’m certain that you would prefer a definitely more feminine name, all cross-dressers do to my knowledge.” 

“Blush, blush again as I replied hesitantly, “Yes Pat, I like the name Cristina, spelled the Spanish way without the h and for short Crissie.” 

“I quite like that name,” Pat said approvingly, “Very appropriate and it’s clever that you chose a name that can be used in both the Anglo and the Latin American world. We have lots of Cristinas and Crissies in Mexico.”  

“Now that I know your proper girl’s name, I can answer your question Crissie.” Pat said smiling mischievously. 

“Have you ever heard the word ‘muxe’ or ‘muxes’ in plural? It’s pronounced moo-shay,” Pat continued as she was looking at me questioningly. 

“No, I never heard of that word and my Spanish is quite good as you know.”“But because your Spanish is good you must know the word ‘mujer’ which of course means woman.” 

“Of course, I know mujer I said smiling, I try to be one as we speak,” I added jokingly. 

“So Muxe is mujer in the local dialect of the Zapotec people. Remember when I told you the other day that my mother originates from the province of Oaxaca in Southern Mexico. She was born and raised there in the town of Juchitan and she is half Spanish and half indigenous Zapotec. Her family owns vast pieces of land and property there and now as the sole inheritor she is probably one of the richest in the area.” 

“That means that I date a rich girl,” I said happily “but I still can’t see what muxes have to do with your PhD or my TG tendencies.”  

“Let me finish Crissie dear,” Pat replied rather bossily this time, “You see muxes are not biological women, they are people who were born biologically male and were encouraged to dress from an early age in female clothes either because they manifested some inclination towards that or because the family had too many sons and needed a substitute daughter to take up female duties within the family, usually with the blessings of the family, in particular the mother, and the complete tolerance of the society.” 

I looked at her open mouthed. How come I never heard of that? “Wow Pat, what a story; I’m completely fascinated by what I’ve just heard. I always believed that Mexico is a completely macho society. This is one of the reasons I never really wanted to visit your country.”  

“You are right of course about Mexico being a macho society and a very dangerous one for that matter with all those drug cartels etc. But there is that small part in the Oaxaca province in the south where muxes exist and are accepted and in some cases venerated also, especially some old ones.” Pat said looking at me cunningly, and then added abruptly. “And of course, I can see now that you are a muxe sweetie. I studied them enough to know that you were born to be one yourself.” 

At that point I felt a bit worried and insulted, I had to ask her, “So Pat have you been seeing me only as a study case for your PhD? Am I really your Guiney pig?” 

She looked at me horrified and jumped from her chair and rushed to give me a long hug. “How on earth you could imagine such a thing my little Crissie? I’m ever so happy that we found each other, you are my ideal male specimen and you have so many qualities that I love and admire. Yes, you are a potential muxe but that is exactly what I like in you and that has nothing to do with my PhD. I think we are made for each other!” 

“I’d like to believe that because I have similar feelings for you. It’s so surreal and yet so exciting that you accept me as Crissie,” I answered, still feeling her strong hands behind my back playing with the straps of my bra and still hugging me.    

“I have a confession to make as well since you were so open to me, letting out all your secrets. I’m bisexual, that’s why I feel so comfortable with your girl side. I also like your eagerness and tendency ‘to offer’ and somehow to be ‘of service’. Your eagerness to be a maid is indicative of that. Other people would call you a submissive but being an anthropologist, I try to avoid that term as is not politically correct; I prefer to use the general term carer. That suits my personality as well because I like to be at the receiving end of your caring.”

 “I’m impressed,” I said without the slightest trace of irony, “You certainly are very knowledgeable on those issues, sexual, anthropological, cultural, you name it.”   

“So, you understand now why I think of you as a muxe?  But I can add here that you are ‘my muxe’. I want you to belong to me so I can mould you my way with your full consent of course. I wouldn’t even dream of doing anything that you would oppose. Are you game for that my darling Crissie?” 

“I had-again- tears in my eyes as I answered, “Yes Pat, I’m your muxe, and yes, I want to belong to you and it’s true what you have just said, we appear to be very compatible.” 

“That’s what I like to hear. You are the sweetest and you are mine you are my Crissie!” Pat said, her eyes sparkling. Then in an anticlimax mode she added naturally, “Thank you for the super breakfast, it was the best I had for some time. I am going to have a shower now, and you can clean up here and do the dishes like a good maid.”   

As she finished her sentence, I felt another surge of excitement as I received my first order as a maid! 

She was heading towards the bathroom as she turned back and said, “Would you mind if I borrow a pair of your panties, and do you have a spare toothbrush? Next time I’ll come more prepared to your place.”

  

CHAPTER 4

“Do you want to marry me Chris or shall I say Cristina and move in with me?” 

It was several weeks later and we were having a nice glass of chardonnay sitting at an elegant café not far from the UN building when Pat asked me the question that was dropped like a bomb. But I knew her well enough by now not to be completely surprised. That was her style all right. She loved to come out with big things out of the blue without any previous warning. 

I replied cautiously with questioning eyes, “Wow! What do you actually mean Pat? Are you proposing me? And where to move in? Aren’t you living with your parents?” 

She giggled in her usual flirty way, her pretty face shining with anticipation, “Slow down Chris and I’ll explain everything. But first I have a present for you.” 

She opened her bag and took out a small box that pushed towards my side of the table. I instantly knew that it was a ring. Was she offering me an engagement ring?” 

I cautiously opened the box and looked inside. “Oh my God! Is this for me?” I squeaked like a teenage girl as people turned around to look at us. 

“Yes, this is for my darling Crissie. Try it on, I want to see it on you.”I looked around slightly embarrassed as I slipped it on my finger. It fitted perfectly in the middle finger of my left hand as it was ordered for me. It was small and delicate and made me feel very emotional. Tears started forming in my eyes as Pat took my hand and looked at it. 

“It suits you Crissie; your hand instantly becomes more feminine. So, can I presume now that you accept my proposal and you are engaged to me?” 

This time my tears were freely flowing down my face as I said in a slight sob,” Oh Pat, you are such a devious person. You took me totally by surprise. But of course, I accept. I am honored that you asked me and I am double honored that you made me feel so feminine.” 

As I said that I stood up and gave her a big hug and kiss forgetting the surroundings and all political correctness. 

But then I looked back at her still with questioning eyes, “Please, explain to me. What happened suddenly and you made that big step? Something changed in your life that I don’t know? Please, please tell me, I’m dying to know.” 

“Fair enough,” Pat said her warm eyes looking mischievously at me. “Try not to interrupt me though and I’ll explain everything.” 

We both had a generous sip of our wine and Pat started talking, “Remember a couple of weeks ago we celebrated my 25^th birthday. That was the day you met my parents. There was a small reception at their residence and then you took me out to dinner to a nice Mexican restaurant.” 

“How can I forget? I was ever so nervous meeting your parents.” I said smiling 

“Yes, I remember your nervousness. But at the end they both liked you, in particular my mother who though that you were very polite and not al all trying to show off.” 

“And of course, I was so amused seeing their maid Conchita wearing exactly the same uniform I have.” I added with a cunning smile. 

“Yes, I saw you looking at her admiringly. If she only knew that you were jealous of her uniform, she would be very amused.”  

She stopped and looked at me accusingly, “Please try not to engage me in a conversation, I have to finish my story.” 

“Yes Miss, sorry Miss,” I said jokingly. 

“That’s my girl,” she replied winking at me then continued, “So a few days later I received a letter from a Mexican solicitor’s firm informing me that the moment I was going to turn 25 I would be able to access a trust that my grand father, that is my mother’s father, created for me when I was a child. They were two conditions in that trust in order to be activated, the first one I mentioned already, to be 25, and the second one to be legally married to a man who is of catholic faith!” 

“Wow, that’s so cool,” I managed to say astonished, but Pat raised her hand to stop me and continued, “And that’s how you come in, you are my catholic faith man and I have to marry you to activate the trust!” 

“Wow again,” I said, “But is that trust so important to you? Are we talking about a considerable sum of money?” 

Pat looked at me and said with a beaming smile, “The trust is worth according to the solicitors close to two million US dollars. It contains various forms of investments and cash, all safely sitting in a Californian bank.” 

“That’s a lot of money Pat; you are a rich woman by all means. Are you sure you want to marry a poor guy like me?” 

She looked at me annoyed, “You shouldn’t even mention that. You know you are my choice, I told you so some time ago, you are my special person, my muxe, my girly boy and I already proposed you and you accepted. So be it! You are going to be my bride.” 

“Bride?” I asked a mixture of excitement and anxiety in my voice, “What do you mean by that? Like I’ll dress in a white dress and veil and you will be wearing a tuxedo?” 

She laughed good heartily as she replied, “I wish it could be that simple my darling Crissie. What I mean is that you will metaphorically be my bride, but during the ceremony I’ll wear the dress and you will wear the tuxedo but under your outer clothes you will wear of course your pretty undies.” 

“Oh Pat, I’m so touched,” I said again with more tears on my eyes. I promise to be a good spouse/partner to you.” 

She looked at me with her big eyes sparkling, “I’d rather prefer you to be a good housewife to me dearest Cristina-Crissie because really and truly I expect you to take all the housewifely duties and not only the moment we move to our new house. Would you agree to that?” 

Blush, blush and butterflies in my stomach. Pat was touching my hidden buttons again. I thought I could be bold again, “I’d love to be your housewife and why not your maid at occasions. You know how much I enjoy wearing my domestic uniform.” 

“I know indeed and I’ll remember your promise when we start our life together.” 

Then she raised her glass and clinked it with mine, “To our future life together for better or for worse, in joy and in sorrow etc... dearest Crissie!” 

Being bold again I winked and answered, “To our future life hopefully for better and mostly in joy Miss!”   

CHAPTER 5

Everything moved very fast after that. Within two weeks we were married in a very low-key civil ceremony at the Town Hall. The two witnesses needed by law were Pat’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Torres.  

Pat was dressed in a simple but very expensive and elegant white dress and I was wearing a dark grey suit, a white dress shirt adorned with a black bow tie and a red carnation on my jacket’s left lapel. Of course, I was constantly aware of the snow-white feminine underwear I was wearing underneath.   

Then the four of us had champagne and dinner at a very upscale restaurant and at about midnight we said good night to Pat’s parents and just the two of us ended up at the bridal suite of an expensive hotel where more champagne was waiting for us. I could see that the night ahead was going to be wild. And wild indeed it was. After all that champagne and a very special and varied love making, we both collapsed in each other’s arms wearing again matching night gowns. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, thinking how lucky I was that I found that jewel of a girl who as of tonight was my legal wife. 

As we were having a leisure breakfast or rather brunch the next morning Pat laid out her plans for our future life together. She definitely had the money and definitely had been taking all the decisions. I was quite happy to follow; after all I was going to be just a housewife as she was reminding me whenever she had the chance.

 “We’re moving in to our new place in about a week’s time” Pat started after a sip of her coffee. “The basic furniture is there, but we’ll probably need more furniture and other stuff after we move in and start living in the place.”  

“I can’t believe that I haven’t seen it yet,” I said looking at her accusingly in a jokey way. 

“I did that on purpose sweetie, I wanted it to be a surprise for you,” she replied and continued, “But you will have the chance to inspect it very thoroughly in a few days when you are going to give it a very thorough cleaning. Would you be able to do that? You will be able to wear your maid’s uniform and feel the real thing, not just pretend to be a maid cleaning your miniscule apartment.” 

Once more Pat managed to startle and excite me at the same time but I replied cautiously, “I’m not certain that I know how to do a professional cleaning Pat, especially in a place that has been renovated and not cleaned for some time. I don’t think I have that experience. I would need some coaching for that.” 

She looked pensive as she answered, “You have a point here Crissie dear; I tend to forget that though you like to play the maid you never really had the experience to be a proper one.” 

She stopped and then clapped her hands happily, “Eureka!” she yelled, “I think I found the solution to that. I’m going to ask my parent’s maid Conchita to come and help you, or even better to come and be your coach. She will show you the ropes and you will be able to have an advance course in being a proper maid. She is very experienced. 

I was all of a sudden very worried and my excitement faded away as I said, “But you can’t do that Pat. Are you going to expose me to your parent’s maid? Then she will tell your parents and I’ll be totally embarrassed. How could I face them?” 

“As you face me wearing your maid’s uniform sweetie. You are not embarrassed in front of me, are you?” she answered rather coolly, then she mellowed and added, “I think it’s time now to tell you another secret of mine. Both my mother and Conchita know that you are my muje.” 

I looked at her alarmed, “You told them about my other side?  I though that was our secret and we would keep it like that.” 

“Is not that simple dear. You see, when I announced to my mother that I’m going to marry you, she asked me the question that all mothers would ask their daughters, ‘why you picked this guy, he is out of your league, you could do better than that’.”  

I was hurt when I heard that, but Pat was just pragmatic. Her mother was right, I wasn’t such a catch for her daughter, I was a rather poor guy with no great work or other prospects.   

“Probably your mother is right,” I said in a sad small voice, “I already asked you that myself.  Why you married a loser like me?” 

She laughed well heartily but her voice was firm when she spoke, “and I said to my mother exactly what I said to you. I married you because you are my muje you are my non macho guy, you are someone that will be there for me in a supportive role and you are someone who will never cheat on me. So, you see I had to tell her about your proclivities and tendencies. At the end she agreed with me.” 

I looked at her skeptically, “In other words my various weaknesses and the existence of a strong feminine side are becoming my assets for you?” 

“Yes Crissie dear; those are your assets from the very beginning and you better remember that.” Then she added smiling cunningly, “As for Conchita you shouldn’t worry at all. Conchita has a son who is a muje and at the moment stayed behind to look after the family, now that his mother has to work in US. So Conchita will be fine with you. In fact, I think you will enjoy working with her and you will improve your Spanish, in particular your Mexican Spanish. That will be useful when we’ll visit my country.” 

Another sip of coffee and then I had another question, “But you left your father completely out of this. How I’ll be able to face him in the future when I become more feminine in my appearance? Look at me now, my hair is considerably longer, my eyebrows are plucked and I have clear varnish on my nails. He probably should know, don’t you think? 

“You don’t have to face him as Crissie in the immediate future and you won’t be seeing him that much anyway. He is at the moment a single-mindedly person pursuing his diplomatic career and very soon he will be eligible for promotion which means another position as a full scale ambassador at some other part of the world.” Pat said reassuringly 

“That means also that they’ll have to give up their apartment in New York if they move to another country. Just as well that you got this new apartment for us. Aren’t we lucky?” “Indeed we are!” Pat said happily. In fact, I never stop thanking silently my grandfather who created my trust more than twenty years ago.” 

She stopped for another sip of coffee, and my mind drifted away as I was looking at both of us, a smile on my face, as we were sitting finishing our brunch wearing, not for the first time, our matching nighties. 

Her voice brought me back, “And I just realized how free of relatives and commitments you are as a matter of fact. Your mother died many years ago and your father has moved back to Italy and remarried there. You are such a free bird yourself.” 

Her words brought back tears to my eyes, “Yes Pat I’m a free bird but now I have you and I would love to become your caged bird because I belong to you now.” 

She stood up and gave me a long and supportive hug, “Yes my Cristina -Crissie, you do belong to me and I will always be there for you.” 

CHAPTER 6

“Wow! It’s much bigger that I thought,” I said to Pat as we finished the guided tour of the apartment, “Three bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms, a vast sitting dining area, a very well-equipped kitchen, a laundry room, even a maid’s room with its own WC- shower facility. Did I forget something?” I said in an admiring voice.” 

“No, that’s about it,” Pat answered but immediately added, “You shouldn’t forget the back service and traders’ door. The door is connected with the service elevator. I like that, is so old fashioned.” 

“How are we going to use that? I asked in a half innocent voice. 

“We’ll talk more about that at a later stage,” Pat said dismissively and continued, “At the moment let’s make the immediate plans. Tomorrow you start the cleaning and hopefully you will be done in a couple of days with the coaching of Conchita.” 

“And how are we going to organise that?” I asked half expectantly half hesitantly thinking about my ‘official debut’ as a maid tomorrow. 

She opened her bag and gave me a set of keys, “This is your personal set of keys Crissie, three keys are in the key ring as you see, main building entrance, main apartment entrance and traders’ and domestic staff entrance. Be here tomorrow morning at 8.00. I’ll join you with Conchita within the hour. Conchita and I are going to do some shopping beforehand, we need cleaning material and other stuff for the apartment and she is compiling a list tonight.” 

I took the keys with a beaming smile, “My own set of keys, thank you Pat, I feel very privileged.” 

She raised an eyebrow and smiled back, “Don’t feel that privileged sweetie, those keys come with certain obligations as well. You are going to understand that soon when you take full responsibility of this place.”   

 She didn’t give me the chance to answer because she continued in a rather bossy manner, “Now, listen carefully. Tomorrow when we arrive with Conchita I expect you to be properly dressed ready for work. Your will wear your functional uniform and try to be as femininely presentable as possible. Don’t overdo it with makeup though, you are going to work hard and you don’t want mascara running down to your face. Would you remember that?” 

She smiled again but in professional manner as if she was instructing a subordinate. The familiar feelings of stomach fluttering were back, her bossy manner and the way she was addressing me sent waves of pleasure through my body.” 

I gave a weak smile and replied hesitantly, “Yes Miss, I’ll remember that.” 

She winked cunningly at me. “And since you addressed me as Miss just now, I would like to tell you that tomorrow in front of Conchita you will have to address me as Miss or Miss Torres. She is always formal with me, and addresses me as Señorita or Señorita Torres in Spanish of course. This is the old fashioned Mexican way and it would be unfair to her if you were casual towards me. You are both going to be my maids tomorrow and I’ll be your employer.” 

I blushed as I heard her telling me those things. I wasn’t certain if that was the result of embarrassment of excitement or most probably both. She was constantly planting submissive seeds inside me; she was constantly stimulating all my senses. 

She saw my reaction because she added winking again, “I can tell that you clearly like what you hear from me Cristina dear. I can see that you are ready to let completely out your feminine and supportive side. You are going to be such a great wife and maid to me!” 

Blushing again I said, “Si Señorita Torres!” 

CHAPTER 7

I was dressed and ready as I looked for the tenth time at my reflection in the hallway mirror.  My front buttoned dove grey dress with its white piping around the short sleeves the collar and the two front pockets, covered by a functional white full apron, my white flat canvas shoes, my white band to keep my longish hair back and my modest makeup with a touch of lipstick gave me the look I wanted, the look of a professional and dapper female domestic. 

On impulse I gave a small curtsey in front of the mirror saying in a small feminine voice, ‘My name is Crissie and I am employed by Miss Patricia Martinez-Torres as her housemaid!’  

At that moment I heard the bell in the front door. ‘My God, they are here!’ I thought as my heart started fluttering from excitement. One last look at the mirror, a slight straitening of my white head band and then I walked briskly to the door and opened it purposefully.     

Pat, a beaming smile on her face was standing there all fresh and beautiful in her morning outfit of jeans and T-shirt. Behind her Conchita wearing a similar to mine grey dress without the apron was carrying many parcels of various cleaning materials.  

I gave a small curtsey and smiled back. I spoke in Spanish, “Buenos dias Señorita Torres, buenos dias Conchita!”  

Pat was surprised with my Spanish as she answered happily, “Hola Crissie, quė tal?”

Then she added in English, “Good girl Crissie, you must insist on your Spanish today with Conchita, her English is very limited.” 

“Yes, Miss Torres, I’ll remember that,” I replied not forgetting my place and addressing her formally since she was presently my employer.    

Conchita put down her bags, an exhausted look on her face. She looked at me and said in rapid Spanish, “Hola chica, could you please carry those bags to the kitchen, my arms are killing me.” 

Pat looked meaningfully at me as if she was saying, ‘now follow Conchita’s requests and instructions without any fuss’. 

I quickly said, “Yes, of course, I’ll take the bags to the kitchen and please join me there, I just made fresh coffee.” 

As I was picking the bags to carry, I turned to Pat, “Would you like some coffee Miss?”   

“Yes Crissie, coffee would be nice, I’ll have to give you both instructions of what has to be done today and tomorrow.” 

Pat left after half an hour. We had our instructions and Conchita decided that we should start the cleaning from the bedrooms. She asked me to remove my white apron and made me wear a pinafore or overall style apron that was covering my grey dress front and back. It was made of a blue cotton gingham material and as she explained to me it was traditional for a maid in Mexico to wear it when involved with heavy duty cleaning like we were doing now. 

The apartment was filthy and full of dust because of the recent redecoration. As we were working together, she was explaining to me in rapid Spanish the way we had to clean thoroughly and methodically. It was hard work and soon my back started to ache and my knees were slightly trembling.  

She was watching me with an eagle’s eye and was giving me orders and instructions continually calling me chica (girl) all along. Only once she used my name when she said to me, “Let’s take a break Crissie and make something to eat. I brought some fresh beard and cheese; you can go and make sandwiches and some fresh coffee.” 

“Yes Conchita.” I said relieved for the break, as I removed my rubber gloves and wiped my sweaty hands on my gingham pinafore. 

“Make sure you wash your hands chica before you touch the food,” she added bossily. 

We were ravenous after all that manual labor and I never enjoyed a sandwich as much as this.  

We were back to work doing windows when Pat returned for inspection.  

Conchita explained to her what was done so far and she praised me for my eagerness to learn but she said very openly that I was not at all experienced and I had a lot to learn. 

And then she added meaningfully, “But Crissie is born a muxe and she will learn fast. She will become a good mucama!” 

Pat looked at me as I was disheveled and dirty, my gingham pinafore full of stains and chuckled, “Look at you, the picture of a hardworking Mexican mucama.  

“Mucama?” I asked, “What that means Miss, I never heard that word.” 

“Of course, you wouldn’t know it; it’s a Latin American word, the equivalent in Spanish is ‘criada’. I’m certain you would know that word Crissie.” 

“Yes Miss, criada means housemaid in proper Spanish.” 

“That’s correct sweetie,” Pat continued, “Now you better go back to your chores, you have to finish today’s work, bedrooms and bathrooms, all windows inside out and give a nice polish to the wooden floors. That means you will have to do it on your hands and knees. Conchita will explain everything,” she concluded an amused look on her face. 

I realized then that Pat was getting a certain pleasure in asking me to do all those menial jobs.

But I kept that thought to myself and simply said, “Yes Miss Torres, I’ll finish my last window and then we’ll start the wooden floors.” 

Pat looked at her watch and added, “In fact I’ll be back in a couple of hours to pick Conchita. We both sleep in my parents’ house tonight and are back here bright and early tomorrow. As for you Crissie you can spend your first night in the apartment. You can make the bed in the maid’s room next to the kitchen and sleep there. Have you brought a nightie with you?” 

“Yes Miss, I thought of that and I packed in my bag a nightie, a change of underwear and my basic cosmetics.” 

“How thoughtful of you,” Pat said smirking.

 “But, I don’t have a change of uniforms Miss, so I guess I’ll have to wear the same working clothes tomorrow.” 

Pat smirked again, “Ah, you are wrong in this one sweetie, I thought of that myself as a good employer and I bought you another uniform dress, you will find it hanging in the closet in the maid’s room.” 

My eyes sparkled form pleasure, another uniform dress for me? “Oh, thank you Miss, you are such a good employer, I never expected that.” I exclaimed and as I finished my sentence I gave a small awkward curtsey. 

Pat laughed and Conchita who was witnessing the whole scene started moving her head and muttered to herself, “Ella es una verdadera sirvienta!” 

Pat continued roaring with laughter, “You heard what Conchita just muttered Crissie? Do tell me in English please, I want to hear it from you.” 

I blushed all over; Pat loved teasing me and clearly enjoyed my embarrassment. 

“She is a true servant, that’s what Conchita said Miss.” 

And who is she, this true servant?” Pat asked still enjoying herself. 

I thought to become bold myself now that everything seemed to be out in the open, in front of Conchita too. ““This is me Miss, Crissie your maid, you muxe mucama!” 

This time Pat approached me and gave me a big hug, “That’s my girl, that’s my chica,” she said as she winked her eye to Conchita giving her a meaningful look.  

Then she clapped her hands, “That’s enough chatting girls, back to work now both of you, when I come back I want the wooden floor in the three bedrooms to be all clean and shiny.” 

“Yes Miss Torres,” we both said in unison but only I tried again to give a small curtsey, Conchita simply bowed her head slightly. 

CHAPTER 8

I had an uneasy sleep during my first night at the new apartment. I felt quite lonely in my small single bed at the tiny maid’s room. I was missing Pat terribly; I would have loved to share the bed with her in the master bedroom but she had decided differently and at the moment she was the boss.  I was of course dead tired and my body was aching from the manual labor but my mind was busy trying to absorb the novelty of what had happened today.  

I couldn’t stop thinking of my first day as a full-time maid in real working conditions. Did it really happen? Was it real that I was married to a lady who was willing and happy to let me be her housewife and maid? Was it real that I was totally dependent on her? She was holding the purse and I was feeling somehow like her employee!  

And yet I felt satisfied with the turn of events. I felt that Pat was my security and she was going to keep me under her wing. Somehow, she had convinced me that she cared for me and really and truly loved me even under those unorthodox and unusual terms and conditions that framed our relationship. 

Eventually my mind eased and I was drifted to a deep sleep. As expected, my last thought was at my new uniform dress hanging in the small closet, the dress that I would wear tomorrow during my second day as a full-time maid. Una verdadera sirvienta, a true servant, as Conchita said. 

I was up bright and early the next morning and after a quick shower and dressed in my underwear, I picked the new uniform dress and examined it once more. It was a light blue polycotton dress very similar to my grey one but in lighter material, more for summer use. It would match better my blue gingham pinafore which I had to wear again for the heavy cleaning. 

Fully dressed and ready for work I moved to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee and then, a mug in hand I went around inspecting yesterday’s work. I felt a deep satisfaction looking at the sparklingly clean bedrooms and bathrooms. Is this the feeling of a proud maid and cleaner? Feeling pleased that I was able to accomplish such a simple menial job and yet a job that would enable other people to use and enjoy the space? Is it why Pat kept telling me that I was born to clean and serve and be there to accommodate the needs of others? Was that a normal attitude to life? 

God, all those questions and not a clear answer. As I was walking back to the kitchen I stopped once again in front of the hallway mirror and looked at myself. The utilitarian gingham pinafore made me look like a mucama Mexicana as Pat mentioned yesterday. I felt sexually aroused looking like that and finally an answer dawned on me. I simply was someone who was thriving being in a submissive servile mode, someone who was destined to be ‘the apron wearer’ if that could be considered an acceptable term. 

The front door bell ringing brought me back to reality. I looked at the wall clock, it was nine o’clock. Pat and Conchita had just arrived. 

I rushed to open the door with a welcoming smile but I froze when I saw an unknown man in a concierge’s uniform looking at me.  

“Good morning and sorry for the disturbance. Is Mrs. Torres in?”  

With a great effort I managed to get some self control and answered in my best feminine voice, “I’m sorry she is not in at the moment, but I expect her any minute now. Can I help you?” 

“It’s nothing urgent, I just wanted to introduce myself, I am Tony the morning concierge and I would like to welcome Mrs. Torres as a new resident. Probably I’ll come back later.” 

He looked at me more carefully now, taking in my utilitarian servant’s uniform and said, “And you must be Mrs. Torres domestic assistant?” 

I couldn’t hide a thin smile; is that a politically correct way to call a maid those days? 

I decided to be more assertive with him so I answered boldly, “Yes, I’m Crissie, Mrs. Torres maid. I finish the cleaning today so as of tonight Mrs. Torres will be staying at the apartment.”  

At this moment we both heard the elevator door opening at the far end of the corridor and then we saw Pat approaching fast, a concerned look on her face, with Conchita marching behind her loaded with shopping bags again. 

“Is everything alright Crissie, who is this person?” She asked looking at me, a meaningful look on her face.The concierge turned to face her and touching his cap said politely, “Good morning Mrs. Torres Ma’am, I’m Tony, the building’s concierge and I came up to introduce myself and welcome you. Your domestic assistant Crissie was explaining to me that she still has some cleaning to do before you move in.” 

“Pleased to meet you Tony.” Pat replied, “And that’s correct, Crissie has to finish the cleaning today and we’ll be hopefully sleeping here tonight.” 

Then she continued in a slightly accusing tone of voice, “As a matter of fact I was just looking for you downstairs to introduce myself but I found you here instead, chatting to my maid.” Of course, she was implying that Tony, being the concierge, should be at his post down by the main entrance to check who is coming in and stop the possible intruder or suspiciously looking person.

 He understood Pat’s insinuation because he hastily answered, “Nice meeting you Ma’am, I should better go back to my post now.”  

He nodded to all of us and started going back towards the elevator when Pat asked him, “What are your working hours Tony?” 

“8.00 am to 3.00pm Ma’am, after that the building’s main entrance is locked and residents have to use their key and special six-digit code.” He said and then as if he remembered something added, “And the domestic staff uses the back elevator that goes to the first basement where the garbage collectors are. Good day to you Ma’am.” 

Pat gave me another meaningful look as I moved away from the door to let them in. 

As we were sipping coffee sitting around the kitchen table Pat turned to me and said mater- of-factly, “I guess you will be the maid in this apartment Crissie since Tony saw you in action. At least during his working hours, you must come and go from the service door and of course wear your uniform when you are out shopping or running errands. This is what maids suppose to do in this up-market neighborhood.” 

I blushed as I saw Conchita moving her head approvingly, a cunning smile on her face muttering again something like ‘verdadera sirvienta’. 

Seeing me blushing all over and slightly winking to Conchita Pat added in a rather amused tone of voice, “I think you enjoy that Crissie, you like the fact that, by pure chance, you are trapped like this; you can fulfil now your dream and be a sirvienta, a female servant, in a more serious and permanent way. Tomorrow I’m going to the uniform shop and buy you half a dozen of practical day wear dresses in various pale colors. You will certainly need them for morning wear and your outings.”  

Still blushing and now excited because once more Pat was pressing all the correct buttons I managed to say hesitantly, “I’m very intrigued by the turn of events, but this is a bit extreme Pat, don’t you think? A complete change of status even before we are able to move to our new apartment?  I wouldn’t like to make you unhappy or embarrassed because of that.” 

I stopped and looked at her questioningly then added, “But I leave the decision to you, you are my employer after all.” She smirked at me and said, “You are right, I’m your trusting partner but your employer as well, but I’ll repeat what I said to you from the very beginning of our relationship. I wouldn’t push anything without your full consent but since you give me the option to decide for you, I simply can tell you that yes, I would love to have you as my maid in this apartment at least during Tony’s working hours. Are you still willing to do it?” 

She looked cunningly at me waiting for my answer. 

Feeling excitingly trapped and full of contradicting emotions I said rather formally, “Yes Mrs. Torres, I am prepared to do it. I want to be your maid in this apartment and I’ll abide to the rules that go with it.” 

“Good girl,” Pat exclaimed, and rushed to give me a hug as she added mischievously, “I somehow knew it, you are a natural to this kind of work, I was watching you working yesterday with a glee on your eyes.”  

“Yes, a natural!” Conchita added in her heavily accented English smiling broadly at me. 

Then she looked at the kitchen clock and exclaimed as she was urging me to stand up, “Hola chika, vamos a trabajar!” 

Pat looked at the clock as well and added, “Conchita is right you better start the cleaning you two, the day is short and she will have to go back to my parents house in three hours, my mother said to me that they need their maid back and my maid can cope with this apartment after all that coaching yesterday and today.” 

Conchita who understood Pat’s comments said in her accented English, “I show Crissie the basics today and let her finish on her own. She is a good sirvienta and she learns fast.” 

Pat smiled at Conchita’s remark and said to both of us, “Right girls, back to work and you Crissie make sure that the apartment looks immaculate when I come back; I’m certainly going to inspect your work. I’ll be at the university library working on my PhD until about 7.00pm.” 

“Yes Mrs. Torres," I said feeling once more very humble, thinking already about the coming inspection. Then I added hesitantly, “Shall I prepare dinner as well?” 

“No Crissie, you will be exhausted by the end of the day with all that manual labor so I’ll treat us to a Chinese take away. Just make sure that there is some chilled white wine in the fridge.” 

She was out of the apartment as Conchita started to explain to me in her colloquial rapid Mexican/Spanish today’s cleaning schedule.  

CHAPTER 9

“You should probably glue your breast forms to your chest, so you wouldn’t have to keep your bra on when you are in bed with me. I would love to play with your boobs when in bed together; though false, they feel very real to me.” Pat murmured.

 It was our first night together in the new apartment and she was in a chatty mode and was whispering to me as we were lying in bed at the master bedroom after our intense love playing. 

I was more than pleased and excited as she kept talking to me. She was pushing me steadily in order to establish and promote my female persona and that kept me on a sexual edge all the time.  

“I would love to have my breast forms glued on my chest but that means that Crissie is becoming a more permanent feature in our lives. It that accepted by you as my spouse and employer?” I answered hesitantly fishing for a yes of course. 

She sensed my hint and said more firmly still in a whispering mode though, as if someone nearby could hear us, “This is an order from your employer girl and to prove you how serious I am you will find in the bathroom a special glue with instructions how to do it. So, do it first think in the morning, before you put your uniform dress on.” 

“Yes Miss Torres, as you wish Miss Torres,” I answered with a smile but my voice was cracked and full of emotions. Pat was bossing me in her own particular way and I loved it. 

“And you said it yourself a minute ago. Yes, Crissie is becoming a permanent feature in our lives, Crissie is here to stay.” Pat continued always in a whispering mode, “And I think you enjoy it as much as I do. You enjoy being in skirts and I love you to bits because of that.” 

“Oh Pat, you make me so excited and happy. I have such a great need to belong to you, to be your ‘muxe’, wife, maid or slave if you want me to be one!” 

“Yes darling, I love your devotion to me, but slave? That might be a bit farfetched in our modern world but you could be one if we were living in another era.” She stopped and giggled as she added, “Probably you were a female slave in one of your past lives, probably in Ancient Rome since you have an Italian background.” 

“Yes, I think you are right” I said with conviction, “I probably was a female slave in my past life. But I must say, since I totally depend on you for my existence, I somehow feel like a modern day slave.” 

“Now you just touched a delicate matter Crissie darling. I have been thinking about it since you agreed to marry me helping me to activate my grand father’s trust. Without your assistance I would still be living with my parents and you would still be in your modest little apartment trying to make a living as a translator.” 

“You are right to that but where is the delicate matter? I helped you but you helped me as well.” I asked with curiosity 

“Well, I am your employer now and you work at this apartment very diligently as my maid. You practically do everything; you clean you cook you do the laundry and ironing, you go out to do the shopping and you wait for me in the evening with a glass of wine in a tray as I can in from the university library. In other words you spoil me to bits. I think you should be paid for that.” 

I tried to protest saying that this was not necessary since she was giving me money for all the house needs but she stopped me with her hand. 

“I think you should maintain a certain amount of independence from me, the rich employer. 

So, every Friday from now on you will find on the kitchen table your weekly wages in cash. I already checked what the average wages are for a domestic worker so every week you will collect $350 in cash.” 

I was overwhelmed by mixed feelings again. Pat clearly had this unique capability to bring out unusual or unexpected news. I was about to become a paid domestic worker? Wow, what a development. I was married to her and I simultaneously was employed as a domestic worker by her.! 

“That’s another surprise for me Pat. I’m your partner and you also pay me to be your maid? What an unusual relation we have. But why you give me cash? You simply could deposit money to my account or I could withdraw money from the joint account you said we’ll have together.”  

“Ah, that’s a good question Crissie dear. It’s purely symbolic. I thought that since you are not declared anywhere as a legitimate domestic worker, strictly speaking you are working illegally for me like an immigrant female worker without papers. That gave me quite a thrill when I thought of it and can make your day to day life as a domestic more realistic.” 

An uneasy feeling surrounded me as I asked, “What do you mean when you say that my day to day life will become more realistic?” 

She chuckled as she answered, “Well, let’s say for instance that you are out as Crissie in your uniform doing shopping or running errands and you are suddenly stopped by the police. They ask for your papers and you have none, unless of course you show them your male driver’s license. That could be embarrassing and humiliating and yet very real. Don’t you think?” 

A shudder went down my spine. “Wow Pat. I never thought of that option. That could be really embarrassing. I have to call you so you can come and save me explaining the situation. By that stage of course I would be the laughingstock. You made me very worried now.”   

She squeezed my hand as she said, “You shouldn’t really worry. In this part of the city it happens rarely but if it happens, I’ll be there for you. After all you can easily prove that you are a US citizen. After that it would be only the embarrassment of cross-dressing without any other consequences. Think of it as an extra thrill.”  

I looked at her adoringly. Her eyes were closing; she was ready to fall asleep. “I’m truly amazed with you Pat; you certainly have an answer to everything, even the most complicated issues are like a game to you. I think…” 

She stopped me with her hand, “Stop blathering on, I’m falling asleep; let’s talk more tomorrow morning during breakfast.” 

As she was turning to the other side she said in a sleepy voice, “I have to try and enhance your female persona during the next few weeks. Crissie is here to stay!” 

‘Crissie is here to stay’ was the last phrase that kept my mind going as I was struggling to fall asleep as well. I was physically tired but I had again so much to absorb! 

CHAPTER 10

The feeling was so different, I had boobs! My breast forms were attached to my chest. My posture was different as well; my center of gravity has changed. 

As I moved around the kitchen preparing breakfast I kept looking down to my chest as it was protruding prominently pushing my uniform dress and apron bib outwards.  

Pat was very pleased as she was helping me gluing them into position earlier in the morning. 

All she had said at the time was, “Isn’t that nice Crissie? Your bosom is much more realistic now and you would be able to come to bed without a bra, just wearing your flimsy nightie.” 

She chuckled and added, “And who knows, probably one day you will have proper implants. It is such an easy procedure those days and most muxes in Oaxaca have them. Of course, you could always grow your own if you ever decide to a full transitioning and start taking hormones.” 

Her last remark panicked me slightly because I immediately said, “I don’t think I’m ready yet for such a drastic step. I’m quite happy with my false boobs for the time being.” 

She smiled kindly as always when a delicate matter was rising and simply said, “Of course, it’s your decision and your decision only my Crissie, but whatever step you decide to take in the future, I’ll be standing next to you.” 

“Thank you Miss,” I said realizing that more and more often now I was calling her Miss or Miss Torres rather than Pat. It was becoming automatic to me and Pat seemed to like it. 

I was pouring hot water to the coffee maker when she came abruptly from behind and hugged me whispering to my ear, “Are you pleased with your new boobs sweetie? Aren’t they so extra feminine? You should feel more girly now.”  

“Stop it Pat, I nearly burned myself with the hot water,” I said jokingly. 

“Oh, my; is that a proper way for the help to address her Mistress?” 

I turned to face her. Was she really meaning it or was she joking like me? Her expression was serious but her eyes were teasing.I played along, “Sorry Miss, I forgot my place, I should know better,” I said and gave a small awkward curtsey. 

She clapped her hands happily, “That’s my girl, that’s my maid. You should do that more often. I could teach you how to curtsey properly if you want.” 

I blushed all over hearing that as she started giving me another hug, “Only joking darling, but I love it when you try to be a proper servant.” 

She stopped and looking at the kitchen table where breakfast was served, she said, “But let’s have something to eat, I’m famished.” 

We sat down to eat breakfast together, but as expected, I was doing the serving. Pat from the very beginning said to me that she was against the complete segregation of the help. It would bore her to death to eat alone without the chatting and interacting we always had.  

She pointed to her coffee cup, “More coffee please, Crissie?” 

“Yes Madam,” I said spontaneously as I got up to pick the cafetière. 

“I like that, I prefer Madam from Miss, after all I am a married woman now and that is more appropriate. So, from now on Crissie, you will address me as Madam or Mrs. Torres when you are in maid mode.”   

“Yes Madam,” I said blushingly once more as I was pouring fresh coffee to her cup. This woman was unique; she knew how to keep me on my toes. 

“Remember what I said last night just before we fell asleep?” She asked as she was sipping her coffee. 

“Yes, I remember very well your last sentence, ‘Crissie is here to stay’ and I meant to ask you about that.” 

“But before that I said that I would like to try and make some improvements to your feminine looks, enhance your female persona as I phrased it.”  

“What do you have in mind exactly Pat? I asked uneasily. 

“Let me answer your question with some questions of mine, “Are you prepared to continue living your life as a full-time substitute female for the foreseeable future? Are you prepared to continue being my maid and housewife and wear female clothes 24/7? Are you happy with that option?” 

 I looked down at my dress and apron, I touched my white hair band, all symbols of my current position and I said in a quivering voice, “For as long as you want me to stay in skirts 24/7, for as long as you want me to be your maid and housewife, for as long as you are willing to support me in that role I am happy to be Crissie 24/7 and look after my Madam!” 

She smiled coyly and said, “That is exactly what I wanted to hear from you. So, let me tell you what I have in mind and try not to interrupt me until I finish.”“Yes Madam,” I answered smiling coyly as well. 

“I already made an appointment for you to go tomorrow to a beauty salon in Brooklyn. It is owned by a Mexican lady, who comes from the Oaxaca province and my mother knows her quite well. In fact, Conchita goes there occasionally.” 

“Brooklyn? That is too far, how…” I started saying and Pat stopped me with her hand. 

“I think I told you not to interrupt me. Let me finish and then you can ask anything you want.” 

“Sorry Madam, I forgot.” 

“So, I already talked to Theresa Lopez, that’s the salon owner’s name, and she will wait for you at 10.00 tomorrow morning. I’ll book a taxi for you to take you there and I’ll pick you myself at about 6.00pm.” 

I kept my mouth shut as she picked her mug for another coffee sip, waiting eagerly to hear the rest. It sounded to me that I was about to get a serious makeover but I waited for Pat to continue. 

“You will dress simply, as Crissie of course, just a blouse and skirt outfit and some simple low heel shoes. I think you have a jean skirt in your room, you can wear that. Any questions so far?”    

“Yes Madam, a few,” I said in an anxious voice. “Are you planning a serious makeover for me? Something that could be permanent?” 

“Not really,” Pat said reassuringly, “Nothing drastic, nothing that couldn’t be reversed. They will do your hair that is long enough now, trim your eyebrows, do some semi-permanent eye makeup, don’t be alarmed it usually lasts a couple of months and then fades out, your nails and some minor other things. I think that will boost your confidence as Crissie.”   

“I have to admit that the whole thing sounds scary but exciting as well. I never had the chance to visit a beauty salon and I have always been secretly jealous for all those girls that were able to do it.” I said in hesitant voice and added, “But what if I have a sudden need to appear as Chris? For instance, a health issue or a bureaucratic entanglement? Could I get back to be a convincing male Chris fairly quickly?” 

Pat chuckled when she heard that, “Well, you can certainly be Chris very fast, just remove your breast forms and there you are. A slightly effeminate looking Chris probably, with thin eyebrows, remains of makeup, a feminine hairdo, but you would be Chris for sure if needed. I’m certain you will be fine; nobody is going to make fun of you, people are much more tolerant those days.” 

“I guess my Madam is as always right,” I said smiling in a more confident voice. 

Pat smiled back and looked at her watch, “Right, I better get ready, I have an appointment with my supervisor today to discuss some issues concerning my dissertation and you have to tidy up and do some shopping.” 

That sent me in anxiety mode once more, I had to go out as Crissie the maid for the first time. 

Pat sensed my new worry and said, “You look good Crissie, don’t worry. You don’t have to interact with people. Tony the concierge met you already, and in the local supermarket you pay by card, the one I gave you for the housekeeping expenses. And take with you the shopping trolley, the one inside the pantry. It will help you to carry more staff back.” 

“Yes Madam,” I said with a sigh, “I just hope that nobody is going to expose me. I am worried about young people in particular, mostly girls, they can be very teasing if they see through my disguise.” 

“Stop being so worried Crissie. You will look very utilitarian in your humble uniform dress. Just keep your head down and walk fast in the street. Nobody will give you a second look. You will understand very shortly that maids tend to be invisible.” 

“Thank you for your reassuring words Madam. And since I’ll be doing the shopping do you need anything in particular? I have already made a list to buy some cleaning stuff.” 

“This is your responsibility from now on Crissie. This is within your housewifely duties. You decide about all the shopping from food to cleaning stuff.” Pat said, looking a bit annoyed, because she clearly had to go and I was keeping her with my questions. 

She started heading for the master bedroom to get dressed but she turned back and added, “Two general suggestions though, or you can consider then guiding lines from your employer if you wish. One, buy cleaning stuff that is as eco-friendly as possible and two buy food that is light and of good quality. I think you should try and lose some weight as well, 5 to 10 pounds probably? That would improve your waist line and your dresses and skirts would look better on you.”

 “Yes Madam,” I cheekily replied, “I was thinking of that as well, I’m ever so jealous of your small waist, I wish I had such a waist myself.” 

She chuckled as she looked mischievously at me, “Be careful what you say because I might decide to lock you in a stiff corset and then your waist would improve dramatically!” 

I blushed as my TG genes kicked on. “I wouldn’t mind that. It would be good for my posture in general.” I said expectantly but Pat dismissed my remark with her hand, 

“Stop talking to me now girl, you already made me late and my supervisor is very particular about keeping appointments. Talk to you later.” She said as she rushed to the bedroom. 

A few minutes later she rushed out of the apartment with a simple, “Bye Crissie, and keep yourself out of any mischief, see you tonight at about 7.00pm. Just prepare something light for dinner.” 

“Good Bye Madam, good luck with your supervisor.” I managed to say but she was out of the door already. 

Soon after I was out myself taking the service elevator and pulling my shopping trolley.

As Pat suggested I was walking fast trying to keep a low profile. My clunky low heel shoes, my light blue uniform dress covered modestly by a dark blue polyester cardigan and the empty trolley I was pulling was screaming from far away, ‘maid out shopping’, so I never got a second look from the passersby. Pat was right after all. A maid in a big city is practically invisible! 

Back at the safety of the apartment nearly two hours later I let out a big sigh of relief. It wasn’t that hard after all and the unique feeling of a mixture of excitement and worrying awareness was unparallel to anything that I had felt before.  

I put my apron back on and started my chores already thinking of a menu for tonight’s meal. I should try to impress my employer and Mistress; I wanted to prove to her that I was her devoted muxe. As I was working, I kept thinking about tomorrow and my first visit to a beauty salon for a makeover the extent of which was still unknown to me.   

CHAPTER 11

I was more and more apprehensive as the taxi was approaching my destination, the beauty salon of Theresa Lopez. 

Pat reassured me this morning that Theresa had specific instructions not to go over the board with my transformation. “She will simply try to eliminate this boyish look you still have when dressed as Crissie. She will enhance your feminine side more, that’s all.” she said to me.   

“What shall I tell her if she asks me who am I and how do I know you? Have you told her that we’re married?” 

“Yes, she knows everything; she knows that we are married and that you are my muje. And remember that the name I gave for you is Cristina Torres; I think it’s more appropriate for you as my wife to take my surname. At a later stage we might do it legally as well.” She looked at me mischievously as she threw another one of her small bombs and then added, “Theresa is a good friend of our family and very aware of people like you, so you are in good hands.” 

‘People like me?’ It was interesting to notice that for Pat I was belonging now to a special category of people. I was wondering if that was good or bad as the taxi driver’s voice brought me back to reality. 

“We arrived Miss, we are in front of the address you gave me, ‘Theresa Lopez – Salon de Belleza’. It certainly looks like Mexico around here.”  

He was right; all that part of Brooklyn was inhabited by Mexicans and Porto Ricans. 

“Thank you very much. You are right, it’s certainly a Mexican area around here” I replied in my best female voice as I was paying him. 

I stepped out of the taxi, remembering to move my legs together; my jean skirt was quite restrictive. 

I took a deep breath and entered the salon. A young woman wearing a pink front zip smock dress and a black full apron approached me and asked politely, “Good morning Miss, my name is Tanya, how can I help you?” 

“Good morning Tanya, I’m Crissie Torres and I’m here to see Ms. Theresa Lopez, I believe I have an appointment.” 

Her eyes shone when she heard the name, “Of course, you are Mrs. Patricia’s wife, let me take you to Señora Theresa.” 

It seems that everybody I was coming in touch lately knows about me and my particular relation with Pat I thought in a resigned mode, as I followed Tanya to the inner sanctum of the beauty salon. 

We entered a small office where behind a desk was sitting an elegant lady in her mid forties. She removed her reading glasses and came towards me with a beaming smile on her face. She was pretty and petite and she had a Jennifer Lopez look. Then I thought smiling that after all she was a Lopez herself.   

“Hello there, you must be Crissie, Patricia’s partner, I am able to meet you at last, Patricia was talking a lot about you.” 

Well, another person who seems to know me and my other side. Pat was certainly talking around. 

“Nice meeting you Mrs. Lopez,” I answered politely. 

“Please, call me Theresa,” she said as she was giving me her professional look. 

“You look already fairly good Crissie, Patricia was right; you have some naturally feminine characteristics. That makes our job here a lot simpler.” 

“What do you have in mind Theresa? Patricia was very vague when she told me about this makeover. The only thing she specifically mentioned is that whatever you do today will be irreversible.” 

“That’s absolutely true Crissie, but it is also true that when my team of three girls finishes with you today you will look much more real as a female.” 

She turned to Tanya who was still present and said. “Bring one of our smocks for Crissie to wear and make some nice herbal tea to calm her nerves.” 

“Si, Senora Theresa,” Tanya replied in Spanish and left. 

Theresa turned back to me and said, “Now, let me explain to you what is going to happen today. My three girls, the three Ts as I call then, will take care of you under my supervision of course. Tanya whom you already met is my reception girl and she is also a competent manicurist pedicurist so she will do your nails. Tina is our hairdresser and she will do your hair and Tessa is our makeup artist and she will deal with your face. When they work on you they will explain in detail what they do. If you have any objections or worries I’ll be around to sort them out.” 

She stopped and looked at me with questioning eyes. 

“Are there any specific instructions from Pat?” I asked with a worried anticipation mixed with excitement of course.

Theresa recognized my mixed feelings and said, “As a matter of fact there are some instructions and I can give you a quick description of them. She wants your hair painted black and slightly curled; she thinks that a Mexican look would be better for you. You are lucky because you already have an olive skin complexion and expressive black eyes so I have a good starting point.” 

A Mexican look?  Is it part of her intention to make me look more like a muxe? Excitement bells were ringing all over me as I looked back and Theresa and managed to say, “That’s sounds interesting, the Mexican look I mean. What else that Mexican look includes?   

She amusingly looked at me; she knew that my question was a fishing one for more details. “Well, I guess the permanent makeup could add to that look. Mexican women and muxes love intense makeup.” 

“Permanent makeup? How intense this is going to be and how long can it last?” I asked a more genuine worry in my voice now. 

“You shouldn’t worry that much about that Crissie. I understand that you like to clean and you often act as a maid to Patricia. For that reason your makeup will be permanent but not that dramatic. A maid should only use discreet makeup. Also your new hairdo will be practical and easy to maintain which is important for a working girl like you.” 

She even knew that I was acting as a maid to our apartment? Pat wasn’t great in keeping secrets, but somehow I didn’t care anymore. All those people I was dealing with were very kind and supportive to me. 

“Yes, I like to clean and you are right, if you work manually your hair and makeup should be easy to maintain so I basically agree with what you have in mind.”  

“And adding to that, my instructions are that your hand nails will be well maintained with clear varnish, but short. As a maid you could easily destroy long or artificial nails.” 

“I hope though that my toe nails will be painted a bright color,” I said in a coquettish voice. 

“Of course dear. And you can choose the color of your toe nails, no problem there.” Theresa said amicably and then added as if she remembered something more, “And before I forget, Patricia asked me to pierce your ears and add small gold studs. Are you ok with that?” 

I never had my ears pierced though I thought a lot about that in the past, even during my boy days. So here was my chance. I could have pierced ears! 

“Yes, I am fine with that.” I simply said.At this moment Tanya came back carrying a pink smock and a steaming mug of herbal tea.  

Theresa saw her and said, “Right, off you go with Tanya now. You can change in the changing room and we’ll start with your hair. I’ll see you later and I hope the end result will satisfy you but most importantly your wife and employer.” 

CHAPTER 12

It was past five o’clock when my so-called makeover had finished. The last person who had worked on me was Tanya who did my nails and pierced my ears. Having second thoughts I tried to protest mildly on the piercing, but Theresa who was present reminded me that the instructions came from above; meaning Pat of course and that stopped my objection. 

I was very apprehensive throughout the transformation procedure because the three girls that worked on me had specific instructions not to let me look at any mirror. So, I was naturally very eager and somehow scared to see the final product.  

Finally, Theresa came to me, told me firmly to close my eyes and then took me by the hand and positioned me in front of a large mirror saying excitedly, “You can open your eyes now Crissie and look at the new you. I hope you like what you see.”

I had butterflies in my stomach when I hesitantly opened my eyes. I blinked, as for a second I thought that I saw one of the girls working there looking back from the mirror; I still was wearing the pink smock dress that was part of their uniform. Then I looked again more carefully and gasped! I was completely transformed. A young woman was looking back at me, with curly jet-black hair, framing a face with soft facial features. I could see the semi-permanent makeup that Theresa had mentioned before plus the gold studs on my pierced ears. Below that my protruding breasts were pushing prominently the front zipped pink smock dress with the black piping around the collar and the short sleeves. The absolute picture of a working girl. 

“My God Theresa, this is awesome! I can’t recognize myself.” I said when I was able to find my voice back. “I look so different, so much more real as Crissie. This is unbelievable. I hope that Pat won’t find it too extreme,” I added with some sort of apprehension in my voice. 

“I’m glad you like our work Crissie and I shouldn’t worry that much about Patricia’s reaction, she is after all the one who gave me specific instructions how far I should go.” 

I kept admiring myself in front of the mirror turning around and looking at my idol from all angles. The thought that I could be one of the employees in Theresa’s salon sent a jolt of excitement though my spine. I could see now that the makeover definitely enhanced my Mexican looks. The black curly hair and my Mediterranean olive skin gave me that particular Latino look. Then I realized that probably that was Pat’s idea all along. Her muxe, her creation should look the part! 

All that time Theresa was watching me carefully with a smile, “I can tell you like what you see Crissie. I only have two remarks that I’ll mention to your employer, first is the voice, you need more coaching there and I’ll suggest a particular person who could help you and second your facial hair.” 

I looked alarmed again, “I thought that Patricia made it clear that there will be no permanent changes and that I could always be able to go back to my male shelf, if needed for any reason.” 

“That’s true but we’re not talking about a bushy beard here; you have some thin facial hair, and as you said to me earlier you shave once every few days. So, all I suggest is some laser treatment to stop thinking about that.”  

“Yes, I see what you mean,” I replied slightly embarrassed because it was true, I never had a serious beard and I always was conscious about that and worried when my male friends made little jokes. 

“Well, I’ll discuss it with the boss first and then we’ll see,” Theresa said as she looked at her watch, “And speaking of Patricia she called me before to tell me that she will be a bit late. Her supervisor kept her longer than she expected. She will be here at seven o’clock and it is only a few minutes past five now, so you have to wait. You can go and change back to your clothes if you want.” 

I looked down at my pink dress with a sad look; I was reluctant to part with it. Theresa saw that and all of a sudden her eyes sparkled, as if she had a thought. 

“I’ll tell you what. You have about two hours to kill. Would you like to do some work in the salon? Patricia tells me that you are very good at cleaning. Would you like to give the place a thorough clean? We don’t’ have anymore appointments for today so the place will be empty and Tanya who is responsible for that job will be eternally grateful to you. How about that?” 

Another jolt of excitement through my spine. Yes, I would love that so I said in a neutral voice, trying to hide my eagerness to do it, “I guess I could do it. That would be my way to thank you for the job your girls did on me today.” 

“Great,” Theresa said enthusiastically and then yelled at Tanya, “Tanya, could you please bring one of our aprons for Crissie here, she offered to clean the place.” 

Tanya appeared in record time, a beaming smile on her face, carrying a black apron which she fastened around my waist after she pulled carefully the bib above my head trying not to disturb my recently done hair. 

I couldn’t stop myself, so I looked once more at the mirror. The addition of the black apron completed the uniform and made me look exactly like one of the girls working there. I developed an extreme feeling of inner satisfaction; somehow I felt that I did another giant step towards where an inner and uncontrolled force was pushing me.   

The voice of Tanya brought me back, “Come on Crissie, let me show you where the cleaning stuff is, then I’ll explain how you can do the job. 

I started by cleaning the counter tops, the wash basins and the large mirrors where I never stopped looking at myself to the point that Tanya had to tell me off. “Stop admiring yourself Crissie, you have to finish what you are doing before your Mistress arrives.”  

I blushed realizing that everybody in the salon was now calling Pat either my employer or my Mistress; for them I was her employee rather than her partner. That was a sinister feeling for me but deep down I liked it. After all, during the past few days I was feeling more and more like her employee. 

“Sorry Tanya, I shouldn’t be that vain but you girls did a great job on me.” I said as I concentrated more on my job. 

I continued with a thorough vacuuming and finally I had to mop the whole place with warm soapy water. I was totally absorbed in my mopping when I heard Pat’s voice greeting Theresa by the entrance of the salon. 

“Hi Theresa, how did it go? Did you finish with Crissie, where is she?” 

I could hear the anticipation in her voice and then Theresa’s chuckling as she answered, “Let’s see if you can locate her Patricia dear, she certainly is here waiting anxiously for you.” 

At that point I stopped mopping and turned around to face her. “Hello Mrs. Torres,” I said formally, bushing all over. 

She looked at me and for a moment I could see that her expression was blank and questioning as if she wanted to say, ‘do I know you?’ but then her eyes lit as she gasped and run towards me. 

“Crissie? Is that really you? What are you doing in that uniform? Are you now employed by Theresa?” 

I wasn’t sure how to answer that as I kept blushing but Theresa came to my rescue and explained everything. 

Pat listened to her smiling all along and then gave me a hug whispering, “Finally they managed to let out the woman that was hiding inside you Crissie dear and I love it. You can be now my lesbian lover,” then added in her normal voice looking at everybody around, “Thank you all for your excellent work on Crissie. She looks much more real now and she can proudly walk the streets without any fear.” 

She turned back and looked at me again, this time taking in my uniform as I was standing in front of her leaning on my mop stick still blushing furiously. 

Then she said to Theresa, “Looking at Crissie like that, dressed as one of your girls gave me an idea. Would you like to take her in on a part time basis as an apprentice? She could learn a lot here. Your girls could teach her various skills from basic hairdressing to makeup techniques and of course manicure-pedicure. She could become my personal beautician as well.” 

Before Theresa had the chance to answer Pat turned to me and asked, “Are you ok with that sweetie, would you like to learn those skills?  Your wifely and maid’s duties can’t be that demanding. We are only the two of us and I’ll be out most of the day trying to finish this damned PhD of mine. So you will have the chance to interact with the working girls and the clients here in the salon.”I realized that I had to answer, as both Pat and Theresa were looking at me expectantly. I was completely mesmerized by Pat’s suggestion so it didn’t take me long to say eagerly, “I’d love to do that providing that Theresa would accept me as an apprentice.” 

“Of course I would accept you Crissie, I can tell you have a great potential, I was watching you before as you were cleaning, totally devoted to the task as if you were doing the most important job.” 

Pat, a broad smile on her face, added to that, “Thank you Theresa for agreeing to my proposal. I guess you can work out with Crissie days and hours, she is very flexible from my point of view. All I need is a clean apartment, my clothes washed and ironed and a cooked meal. Crissie knows all that and she is clever enough to satisfy both of us.” 

As she finished her sentence she turned and winked at me as she did so many times before. I loved that semi-serious semi-jokey side of her. Though she was the one who was making the decisions, she always made me feel as I was part of it. On the other hand I was thinking for how long I had to work as an apprentice in Theresa’s salon and I was about to ask but Pat had already the answer for me. 

“It won’t be for long though, about a month, six weeks at the most? Because I have news for you Sweetie. My supervisor is very pleased with the progress I made with my dissertation and he said that I’ll probably be able to defend it in front of the University committee in a month’s time. After that we are free and guess what, we can go for a long vacation to my home country. Mexico we’re coming!” She exclaimed happily. 

“Congratulations!” We all said in unison as Pat came and gave me another hug whispering again to my ear, “By the time we will be going to Mexico you will be an accomplish ‘muxe’, my accomplished ‘muxe’ and we’ll have a great time.” 

Tears came to my eyes as I whispered back, “I’m your ‘muxe’ and I hope I’ll be accomplished enough for my Madam!”  

Theresa and the girls came and gave her a hug as she kept talking to me, “I know you love your uniform Crissie but you have to change now; I’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate. I know an excellent Mexican restaurant in the area. I feel for some spicy food tonight.”   

CHAPTER 13

The food was excellent and the wine intoxicating. We both were tipsy and teasing each other. 

I couldn’t stop looking at the three adorable Mexican waitresses as they were coming and going. They were dressed in long multicolored skirts in very vibrant and vivid colors and tight tops emphasizing their womanly figures. The skirts were what I liked most, they reminded me of the gipsy skirts that flamenco dancers were wearing in a show I watched a couple of years ago when I was visiting Spain. 

“You make me jealous naughty girl as you look at those waitresses in such an admiring way,” Pat said to me accusingly. 

I cunningly smiled as I replied, “You should have known me by now Pat. I am jealous of their outfits and in particular of those beautiful skirts. They are so feminine.” 

She laughed as she said, “You must know by now because I ‘m certain you must have looked on line already, that the Mexican muxes in Oaxaca province love to wear those outfits and very often manage to sew their own skirts. Very competent girls those muxes.” She added looking at me meaningfully. 

“What now?” I asked in a flirtatious way as I was playing with my newly done hair. 

“If you are going to be my accomplished muxe before we go to Mexico you must have some basic lessons in sewing. I know that Theresa could help on that as well.” 

“How could she help?” I asked as the prospect of getting sewing lessons was turning me on. I already started imagining myself sitting in front of a sewing machine, probably an old-fashioned Singer like my mother used to have. I was fascinated when I was watching her sewing all her clothes.  

“Not far from her Salon there is a small workshop where young Mexican migrant girls learn how to sew. Theresa knows the owner, they are friends and she can organize some extra apprentice for you. That could be another ‘accomplishment’ for you. Would you fancy that my sweet?”  She asked in a slightly tipsy voice. 

“Yes, I would.” I said without any hesitation in my voice. Somehow I abandoned myself to the manipulations of Pat, fully enjoying it though.  

“You are going to keep yourself busy my Crissie during the next few weeks; housework, beauty salon, sewing workshop. You will spend more time in a uniform than normal clothes. You would like that though, wouldn’t you?” She asked looking directly at me, her eyes shining with mischief. She knew how to tease and stimulate me at the same time.  

“Oh Pat, you are such a tease. You know me so well.” I said looking at her adoringly, “Yes, I would like that. I guess Theresa could and would organize my hours. From what I see I’ll keep myself busy for about twelve hours daily.” 

“Join the club,” she answered. “I’ll be working twelve or even more hours myself in order to finish my thesis. We’ll be doing different things of course but I know that you are keen on all those womanly tasks that I organize for you. We said it before; you are meant to be the housekeeper, the carer, the apron wearer.” 

She lifted my skirt under the table and started caressing my legs covered by sheer black stockings.  

“Let’s get the bill and go home my Crissie. You can abandon your miniscule maid’s bed tonight; I want you to my king-size bed. I want us to make love like real Lesbians tonight. Let’s celebrate Sappho, our eternal lyric poetess tonight. I’ll be Sappho and you will be my female slave who has to please her Mistress!  

PART 2 - MEXICO

CHAPTER 14

“We’re flying to Mexico City in a week; I just booked the tickets wιτη Delta Airlines.” Pat said casually as I was serving her breakfast. 

I nearly spilled the coffee I was pouring and looked at her alarmed. “That’s very sudden Madam. How Can I travel like this? I need to prepare, look at me, I’m all woman now. I have to go back to be Chris again. I have to talk to Theresa; I work there later today. How can Ι do all that in a week?” 

She did look at me with her usual slightly amused or ironical way; I never could tell for sure those days what it was, and said, “Please do slow down sweetie, don’t get overexcited, it’s not such a big thing, I already spoke to Theresa. So, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down and I will explain everything.” 

As I sat down with a steaming mug in my hands, I realized that I had spelt some coffee on my white apron. I was about to undo it and go and change to a clean one, but she stopped me with her hand, “No need to do that now, let me finish first because I have to rush to the University. Tomorrow is the day that I submit my dissertation so there is lots to do.” 

“Yes Madam,” I said still looking at my apron in an annoyed way. 

“Well, here is the plan.” Pat started as she had another sip of her coffee. “Let’s start with the practical issues. You will of course travel with your US passport as Chris Galliano so we have to try and resurrect Chris.” 

“That will not be that easy,” I said rather impertinently still looking at my soiled apron. 

“Stop looking at your damn apron and listen carefully Crissie, I don’t have all day,” Pat said in an annoyed voice this time.  

I could see she was under pressure with tomorrow’s presentation of her Thesis so I blushed and replied in a humbler manner this time, “I’m sorry Madam, I am worried about the trip but I’m sure we can work it out.” 

“Of course we can. All you need is a few days in pants so you can get the feeling of them back. It will be ladies’ pants of course but that will do the trick. You will be able to walk in a freer manner and longer strides like men do but please don’t overdo it, I want to see some femininity in you, after all there are lots of effeminate men around and they are not necessarily gay. And of course, we’ll try and match your current face to your passport photo.”  

“What about my boobs?” I asked innocently. 

“Don’t be silly Crissie, of course you will lose them for a few days, Theresa will remove them today so you will come back with them in a bag.” Pat said chuckling. 

I felt sad when I heard that. Losing my breast forms after all those weeks? I was feeling like a woman who was about to have mastectomy for health reasons, a weird feeling I must say. 

Pat saw my sad look because she added more sympathetically, “I know how you feel sweetie, but it’s only for a few days. The moment we land in Mexico City you will be Crissie again within hours. I’ll tell you more about that and our plans in Mexico during our flight. We’ll be both more relaxed and will have plenty of time to chat.” She looked at me meaningfully and added, “And guess what, we’re flying first class form JFK to Mexico City international airport. We travel in luxury my Crissie, we both deserve that.” 

“Wow! I feel very privileged Madam, I never travelled first class before and you must have paid a bomb for those tickets.” 

“I certainly did and for a moment I thought of sending my maid back in economy with the Hoi Polloi but then I decided that I wanted you next to me as my partner; let’s say that it is our honeymoon trip and I take my wife abroad in luxury.” 

“Oh, you are such an angel Pat, you think of everything,” I said as I got up and gave her a hug.  

She looked at her watch and had another sip of her coffee as she continued talking, “Back to practical issues then. Because of Tony, you will continue being the maid during the hours he’s working, you can insert your breast forms into your bra and go out shopping in uniform if you have to, but after 3.00pm you will change to ladies’ pants and a plain top like a ladies’ blouse and also wear flat shoes like trainers. Ok so far?” 

I nodded, then asked, “But how about my permanent makeup?” I could still see traces of it though it was more than four weeks since I had it in Theresa’s salon.” 

“I thought of that too,” Pat answered pleased with herself. “Theresa will work on you today. She will remove your breast forms and then she will wipe clean the remains of makeup; at this stage it is easy to do it because it’s already fading. Then she will wash and fix your hair in a less feminine manner. It is long enough now and you will be able to pull it back in a low ponytail like many guys do.”

“You never stop to amaze me Pat. Your organizing skills are phenomenal and your instructions always to the point. I don’t try to flatter you but you are born to be a leader and an organizer.” 

“Thank you sweetie, I’m glad you can recognize that. I’m in my element this way and you are one of my by-products since I love organizing your life as well and you seem to be happy about it.”  

She had another sip of coffee and stood up, “I better rush now or I’ll be late, lots to do today since tomorrow is the big day.” 

She turned and added in a chuckle, “And could you please take your nails’ kit out? I want my maid to give me a pedicure and manicure tonight, I need to be pampered a bit before my big day tomorrow.” 

“Yes Madam, of course,” I said getting the familiar stomach tinkling when Pat was stirring my servant’s genes. 

Within minutes she was out and I rushed to my room to change my apron, I was becoming obsessive about it. I replaced it with my Mexican blue gingham pinafore that Conchita gave me and started my housework from the master bedroom and bathroom; I had to change sheets and towels today. 

My mind was running fast as I was doing my morning chores. I had to plan my week as well, I had lots to do. I had to say my goodbyes to Theresa and her girls, I had to visit one last time the sewing work shop, I learned a lot there and I met some nice Mexican peasant girls. It certainly was good for my Spanish which was improving daily. Even in Theresa’s salon the girls were talking Spanish to me and I developed an ear for the Mexican expressions and accent. 

I also had to say good bye to Tony the concierge who for a month now was trying desperately to flirt with me until one day I said to his face that I have no sexual interest in men and I prefer women. That shocked him but then he looked meaningfully at me as if he was insinuating that I was in a relationship with my Mistress. If he only knew! But we did stay good friends and occasionally he was helping me to load my shopping in to the service elevator.  

Then I got worried again as I started thinking about the imminent trip to Mexico in a week’s time. How could I pull that through without being publicly ridiculed?  

The reassuring answer came to me; Pat was going to sort it out as always. She was good at that; she wouldn’t leave me alone to face it. 

CHAPTER 15

We did our check in without any problems; on the contrary we got a preferential treatment because of our first-class tickets. Our substantial luggage went through, we got our boarding passes and we started walking towards the passport control counters. I was Chris again but a very effeminate looking Chris. Theresa did her best and my long curly hair was kept back in a very plain looking ponytail. But my eyebrows were thin and very feminine looking and for a keen observer they were traces of makeup on my face. I was worried that the passport control officers would make fun of me but Pat who was holding my hand firmly told me that there was nothing to worry, even if they could see my effeminate looks.  It wouldn’t have been politically correct to make any comment since I had a valid US passport and I clearly was matching my passport photo.   

I was wearing from the skin out female clothes, that was Pat’s little joke on me, but at first glance they looked normal for a male. I had female underwear, panties and a sport bra and then pants and a shirt that in reality was a plain blouse because it was buttoning the female way, right over left. 

The passport control officer was a black woman who scrutinized me and then looked at my passport photo. She looked at me again and with the faintest of smiles said, “Your hair grew considerably since you took that photo and your eyebrows look thinner. Enjoy your trip to Mexico Sir.” And she waved me in without any other comments.  

Pat who followed had a beaming smile when she joined me minutes later. “You see sweetie, no problem at all, she couldn’t care less who you are, provided that you were the passport bearer.” 

I let a sigh of relief as I said, “But she saw through me, she made that comment about my long hair and thin eyebrows and gave me a knowing smile.” 

She dismissed my remark with her hands as if saying, ‘enough is enough’ and then she came and gave me a hug, “We’re on our way my Crissie. New adventures are ahead for us. You will have a very exciting time in Mexico my ‘accomplished muxe’, I can’t wait to see you in one of those wonderful long multicolored skirts. You would like that wouldn’t you sweetie?” 

“Yes I would,” I said sincerely as the new phase in my life was all of a sudden unfolding in front of me. I was excited again as I left behind all my passport inspection worries. ‘Mexico we’re coming’ I said to myself and turning to Pat I asked, “You know Pat, we’re about to embark for a major trip and I have no idea what is going to happen exactly. For instance, how long are we going to stay? Are we going only to Oaxaca or are we visiting other parts of Mexico as well? Are we going to spend some time in Mexico City? Etc. etc.…” 

Pat squeezed my hand and said, “You are absolutely right to ask my Crissie, but I’ve been inundated with my PhD presentation and my mind was elsewhere. Now though that I’m through with it in a successful way I can relax and concentrate more on you as my sweet partner and accomplished muxe. So as soon as we board and settle in comfortably in our first-class seats we can chat.” 

She loved to call me her ‘accomplished muxe, she was obsessed with that expression and I could tell she had a plan in her mind, a plan I knew nothing about, a plan that would certainly evolve upon arrival to Mexico. All I managed to say half-jokingly was, “I’m dying to find out about your plans Señora Patricia.”  

She chuckled as she replied, “You better remember to call me that way from now on because the moment we land in Mexico you cease to be my sweet partner and you become my full time employee and maid so I will be for you either Señora Patricia or simply Señora or Señora Torres when other people are present.” 

“Wow, that sounds serious and a bit ominous,” I said feeling worried and excited at the same time. What sort of plans Pat had for me? 

This time she happily laughed and looked at me with a sparkle in her clever eyes, “Don’t worry sweetie, there is nothing ominous in my plans and as always you will have to endorse them. As I said from the very beginning nothing happens without your full consent.”

 She continued, the sparkle in her eyes still there, “And don’t worry, I’m not thinking of selling you as a slave in Mexico, I need you as my slave! 

All the usual excitement symptoms appeared suddenly, my submissive genes were kicking again, “Oh Pat, you are so good in teasing and exciting me at the same time.” 

“I wouldn’t have said those things if they were not turning me on as well,” she answered meaningfully and added, “Come on, let’s go and have a nice cappuccino before we board. The coffee on the plane is usually atrocious.” 

Within the hour we were comfortably seated in our very large and luxurious seats sipping our well chilled champagne in elegant crystal flutes when Pat finally started to open up to me telling what our Mexico plans would be. 

“As soon as we land and after we get our luggage your transformation begins,” Pat said  

“What do you mean my transformation begins? Where? Inside the airport terminal?” I asked looking at her questioningly. 

“Yes sweetie, inside the terminal,” Pat chuckled and continued, “Theresa happens to know the lady who runs the Airport beauty salon and contacted her. She is willing to give you the makeover you need. You go in as you are now in your androgynous clothes and looks and you come out in a dress as Crissie my companion/maid.”  

“Thank God I packed a whole suitcase for Crissie. And then what? Are we going somewhere in the City or we get another flight to Oaxaca?” I asked wondering what other surprises are awaiting me in Mexico. 

“I think we have to stay in the City for a few days so you can get the feeling of Mexico. You are a city person anyway and you spent almost all your life in New York so Mexico City will not be alien to you. Especially because we’re going to stay in an apartment block similar to the one I rent in New York.” 

“You mean a high-rise apartment block with a concierge?  Have you rented one already? You certainly move fast Pat.” 

Señora Patricia to you Crissie, Pat said quietly, “You have to get used to that. And to answer your question, my good grandfather took care of that as well. He thought that I should have a ‘pied-a-terre’ in Mexico City when visiting and so the apartment is part of the trust. Aren’t we lucky?” 

“We certainly are Señora; and I’m lucky that my employer is rich and my job is secured,” I coyly answered.   

She smiled back, her eyes sparkling, “That’s my girl. I always will be there for my Crissie. But back to our plans; after the beauty salon and before we reach the apartment, we’ll pay a visit to one of your preferred shops. Can you guess what shop that will be?”  

I knew the answer and of course Pat was playing the cat and mouse with me. Blushing expectantly, I said, “A uniform shop probably?” 

“Bingo, you guessed well sweetie. We’ll visit ‘casa de uniformes’ in downtown Mexico City.  

“But I packed my uniforms Señora, you advised me to do so.” 

“Correct, but a maid never can have enough uniforms, in Mexico in particular where can be hot and humid and you might need to change often twice daily.”

 She was feeling elated and happy as she kept talking, “And anyway the uniforms are slightly different here, the material is all cotton, ‘100% algodón’ and usually checked or striped and the color is practically never that boring dove grey or black that all US maids are obliged to wear. You can find here pink, yellow, light-blue or lime green, very cheerful colors.”    

“It must be similar to the apron Conchita gave me back in NY, I quite liked that and I liked the feeling of the material, strong and soft at the same time.” 

“That’s right, that’s the material I’m talking about and if you are a good girl, I’ll let you choose at the uniform shop.” 

“Of course I’ll be a good girl for my Señora,” I answered gingerly. 

She looked please with my answer and added, “And to conclude our immediate plans and movements we’ll hopefully end at the apartment after a long and tiring day and we’ll collapse in bed trying to fight our jetlag. 

At that moment the flight attendant, a beautiful Latino looking girl wearing a bright red apron on top of her dark blue uniform dress started serving our main meal of the day. The serving was formal in porcelain plates with proper cutlery. At that moment I looked adoringly at Pat because I did enjoy the luxury of the first class something that I normally couldn’t afford even in my wildest dreams.   

CHAPTER 16 

As soon as we arrived at the airport beauty salon and Pat introduced herself to the manager, a woman called Violetta, we were taken to a back room where my breast forms were glued back to my chest. I instantly felt the difference as my Crissie persona happily resurfaced. I was asked to remove my androgynous outer clothes and was given a pink robe to wear, not as pretty as Theresa’s one and ushered to the front for my makeover.  

This time I was more familiar with the procedure so I was quite relaxed when the beauticians were working on me. And there was no English speaking, only rapid Mexican/Spanish which was difficult for me to follow. Fortunately, Pat stayed with me and watched the whole process and she was acting as an interpreter when I wasn’t able to understand. 

They did the full works again, hair dyed once more jet black and curled with very old-fashioned looking rollers, pedicure and manicure plus the semi-permanent makeup.  

When I looked at myself in the mirror several hours later, I was looking back at Crissie again. But this time the makeup was more dramatic and the hair longer and more feminine looking. My face looked even softer and the thrilling effect on me was stronger.  

Pat was watching me as I was admiring myself in the mirror and finally said to me in English, “The transformation effect is amazing this time honey, far superior to the New York one. Your face is softer and all the sharp edge male features have gone. You look good, not glamorous, but you look feminine enough. You nearly are above the muxe level.” 

“Gracias Señora Torres,” I said in Spanish and then added in English, “You flatter me Madam, but what you mean above the muxe level?”  

“Well dear, the majority of muxes somehow always look like boys in drag and they don’t really mind it because they are accepted as such by the local society. But you are getting better than that because your features were soft and more feminine to start with. So, all I tell you is that you are a more convincing female now and when in Oaxaca you will blend much more easily with the girls there.” 

Blend with the girls there? I was now above the muxe level? I was wondering what really and truly Pat had in mind. 

I tried to say something but she spoke before I had the chance. “Now sweetie, go to the back room and change, you will find the clothes you have to wear on a chair there. Then we get a taxi and go to the uniform shop. Hurry up now the shop will be closing in an hour or so.” 

“Si Señora,” I said as I rushed to the back room. I was expecting to wear clothes that I packed in New York but instead I found a summer dress waiting for me. I picked it up and examined it. It looked like a house summer frock with no sleeves. The material felt like cotton and was printed fabric, a blue background with bright yellow sunflowers. It looked clean and freshly ironed but is certainly wasn’t new. I looked more carefully and found small discoloration spots in the front. Who ever was wearing it before was doing housework in it, a house frock perhaps? I was puzzled as I put it on. It felt comfortable and not too tight and had two front pockets. In one of them I found a thin belt of similar material which I quickly tied around my waist. I instantly went and looked at the mirror at the other end of the room. It definitely was a house frock and I looked like a housewife. No elegance there, just practicality. This is the way Pat wanted me to look? 

I looked for shoes and I found by the chair a pair of open-toe wedge sandals. I quickly put them on, exactly my size, and I went back to the mirror. The shoes made me look slightly more feminine but still not elegant. Peculiarly enough the whole look started to turn me on. I was quite humble looking, like a maid on her day off? 

And then it dawned on me, Pat already started to create my new persona, my new image of a maid in Mexico, that was her idea right from the beginning! 

I was still turned on when I went back to the front and I was blushing all over when I asked her half innocently, “Are those the clothes you wanted me to wear Señora? The dress is used, it even has some discolorations, and it is comfortable but very plain. And the shoes are comfortable and easy to walk.” 

Her eyes were very intense and sparkling when she answered, I could tell she was excited herself, “That’s correct sweetie, those are your clothes for your first day in Mexico, something simple and plain, something that a poor maid could wear in her day out. I couldn’t really take you to the uniform shop dressed elegantly; then they might confuse you for the lady and think that I’m the maid.” 

She chuckled with her joke and continued, “When we go to the shop stay behind me and let me do the talking. Keep your head down and wait patiently. I’ll explain to them that we just arrived form US and your Spanish is not very good, though you have a Mexican background, from your father but you were born in the States and you spent all your life there working as a domestic from a young age.” 

I couldn’t help but smile with her story; she certainly had a vivid imagination. “So, my Italian father becomes Mexican and I have been all my life a poor working girl in the capitalist US?” I asked a hint of irony in my voice. “Isn’t that a bit farfetched Señora?” 

She looked at me not knowing if she should be annoyed or amused with my impertinence. She decided to take it lightly, “Come on honey, I know you love playing that role as much as I like creating your new persona. We are together in it, remember?” 

I smiled back because I was still turned on by the whole story and said as I looked down at my humble dress and shoes, “You are right of course, I love being dragged down this path and I have faith on you that you will protect me if something goes out of hand.” 

She replied her eyes still sparkling, “You bet I will honey, you bet I will! You are fully under my protection now and you should never forget that we are in a rough country.”Then looking at her watch added, “We better say our goodbyes now to Violetta and her girls who took care of you. I’ll leave a good tip to them and then I’ll call for a taxi.” 

During the taxi ride Pat helped me to tie a scarf around my hair; it was big enough to partly cover my hair and when I looked at the small mirror that she always carried in her bag I looked even more like a country girl.  

Pat chuckled happily and said, “You do look the part even more now, a good Catholic Mexican girl, like someone who came from a poor village to work in the big city.” 

“And you are my city Señora like in the film ROMA of Alfonso Cuarón, we watched a few months ago in New York, remember it?” 

“Yes, you are right, I forgot about that, and Colonia Roma as you remember is a neibourhood here in Mexico City.” 

And chuckling again she added, “And I’m certain that you were identifying at the time with the indigenous little maid who was working for this middle-class family, what was her name again? Ah yes, Cleo.”  

“Yes, I guess I was, I still remember her gingham apron, like the one Conchita gave me. You know me too well by now to fully understand that.” 

At this point she squeezed my hand as she used to do when she was feeling my anxiety and said, “I think we’ve arrived; I’ll ask the taxi driver to wait for us. He is reliable, Violetta uses him all the time for her clients.” 

“Si Señora,” I replied formally, getting ready to face the world as a Mexican peasant girl about to become a maid in the big city. 

The inscription in front was ‘CASA DE UNIFORMES – EL GENERAL’ and the shop looked big. As soon as we entered, I understood why. The shop had all kinds of uniforms from medical to building technicians’ overalls. Pat immediately asked for uniformes domesticas and the girl at the reception sent us to the back of the shop. 

I instantly spotted the dresses in pale colors and the matching aprons and instinctively started walking towards them. Pat stopped me with her hands and whispered to me, “I’ll do the talking and the choosing, remember, I’m the Mistress.”  

“Si Señora,” I replied again, not being able to take my eyes from the racks of dresses and aprons. I never saw before such a variety. Clearly in this country the traditional uniforms were still very much in demand. 

A young woman dressed in the shop uniform, a dark blue skirt and blouse outfit with white piping around the collar and the short sleeves of the blouse approached Pat and asked politely what we wanted.  

I stayed a good two steps behind, eyes downcast as advised, but I heard Pat’s clear and educated Spanish, “I would like to buy for my maid here six uniform dresses and matching aprons. I prefer pale colours and good hardwearing material, preferably 100% cotton. I would also like to get some plain caps and comfortable shoes. You can see her size; medium would be probably ok.” As she was talking, she looked sideways at me asking silently if I was happy with her choices. I silently moved my head in agreement.  

“Certainly Madam,” the saleswoman said respectfully seeing the possibility of a large order, “We do have what you just asked, we are one the biggest retailers in Mexico City and we supply lots of hotels and houses with domestic uniforms all over the country. Let me show you.” 

She took us to the racks I had already spotted, one rack had dresses in striped material the other in checked gingham.   

The saleswoman picked a light blue striped dress and passed it to Pat. 

“This is a very good quality dress, hard-wearing, 100% cotton and easy to maintain, very comfortable for her daily chores.  It is usually sold with a matching large working apron of similar material for heavy housework and a smaller white half apron for serving and attending to guests.” She said as she handed the dress to Pat for inspection. 

Pat picked the dress and felt the material then she turned to me and said in Spanish, “Crissie, come here and let me see that dress on you.” 

“Si Señora,” I said as I approached dutifully. 

She gave me the dress and asked me to hold it in front of me.

 I did as I was told as the saleswoman added, “She can try it on Madam, it is a medium size and I can see that it will fit well, probably slightly large but after the first wash it will shrink a bit, it usually happens with cotton material.”

 “That won’t be necessary,” Pat replied with another meaningful look at me as I whispered to her in English, “I like both the striped and the checked material; could we buy three of each kind please Madam?” Even in my whispering mode I wasn’t forgetting my place.  

Pat whispered back, “Yes, sweetie, I can see that you love them,” Then turning to the saleswoman said, “Yes, I like the material and the size seems good on her so I’ll buy three striped and three checked ones in medium size all in different colors please. I leave the choice of color to my maid.” 

Then turning to me added in a commanding mode, “Crissie, could you go and pick six dresses from the racks, three striped and three checked ones? And then the kind lady here will complete the order with the matching aprons.”   

Si Señora,” I said again and moved eagerly to the racks. I quickly picked three striped dresses in the standard colors for a domestic uniform, pink, light blue and lime green and three checked ones in more daring and brighter colors, red, yellow and lilac.Within half an hour we completed our order and we were back in the taxi. Except for the uniforms we also bought three pairs of simple sandals similar to flipflops which the Spanish call chancletas and 3 simple white caps that according to Pat I would wear only on demand when for instance I would have to serve during more formal occasions. 

Was I going to do that and under what conditions? I was asking myself but I should better ask Pat, as the taxi started for our final destination for the day, ‘the Trust’ apartment somewhere in downtown Mexico City. 

As we were cruising around the city, my eyes started closing as Pat was trying to make conversation with the taxi driver. The jetlag was coming fast on me; that was a long day with enough excitement!

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