From Curious Guy to Sissy Maid: A Doorstep Transformation

A Curious Delivery

There was a light overcast of the sun over Mike’s small suburban neighborhood. He was ready for his usual routine of mowing the lawn and playing games on his day off. Dusting off a new game he was eager to play, Mike stopped short as he heard a noise. The noise of his mail delivery person tossing a package against his door.

He hadn’t been expecting a package today. But he never understood the intricacies of the mail delivery service. He went to his front door and swung it open. Finding a box sitting on his front porch. He picked it up, and its heft surprised him. Sounded like two packages inside of it.

The sender’s name was a kind of boutique. One Mike had never heard of, but whose name was not his. Instead, it bore the address of his neighbor across the street. It was a simple mistake that happened from time to time. He lifted his head up and saw her car was out of her driveway, indicating she wasn’t home.

Temptation in a Box

Nonetheless, it would be simple and easy to deliver the package and plop it on her doorstep. He was about to do that when the dented corner that collided with his door loosened ever more. Delicate lace seeped through it. His heart raced as he took a step back. Then another, and then he was at his table opening it.

Excitement coursed through him as he removed the tape. He had seen Danielle. His neighbor, and she was way out of his league. His excitement at the thought of seeing some kind of lingerie and imagining her in it was too much to bear as the box flipped open to reveal its secrets.

The Silicone Situation

A maid’s outfit, complete with a frilly apron and a set of silicone breast forms.

Heat rose to his cheeks as he looked at the item. His curiosity got the better of them as he picked up the silicone breasts. They were modeled after cute and perky C-Cups, the type he would’ve loved to have seen on a girl. He poked them and watched them jiggle. There was some paper on the back, and as he pulled it off, he could see some adhesive on the back of the forms.

Curiosity continued to build as he looked at them. Nobody was around to see, and he could always take them off. Danielle would never know. Stripping his shirt off, he held one breast in each hand. They were overflowing in size as he pressed the adhesive ends against his chest.

The adhesive was itchy as it began to adhere to his skin. He could feel the strength of the adhesive as the weight of the forms sagged. His hands moved away, and he could feel them pull against his skin as if they were actually a part of his body now.

He giggled and struck a pose in the mirror. Laughing at the bouncing breast now affixed to his breasts. Even with a small dance, they stayed on his chest, bouncing up and down. He felt a small blush come over his face. It was a pleasant feeling of the extra weight on his chest.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway next door caused him to stop cold. He ran to the window and peeked through the closed curtain and saw Danielle’ Ferrari pulling in. the reminder that it was her items suddenly hit him. He needed to take them off, put them back in the box and explain the mix-up to her. She’d never have to know he wore the breasts.

His hands gripped the two breasts on his chest, and he was amazed at how soft they felt. They were almost realistic. He flexed his finger, feeling the soft silicone squish beneath his finger. He could feel himself react, electricity running through his body.

But he still needed to return them. He gave them a soft tug, but they didn’t budge. With another tug, his heart rate quickened. He remembered the little adhesive backs. He didn’t think they would be strong enough to resist intentional removal. He rushed over to the box and pulled out the box they came in. He found a small pamphlet and looked for removal instructions.

“To remove: Use our branded solvent. Sold separately.”

Danielle’s Dangerous Game

His heart slammed against his chest as his stomach plummeted to new depths. He wandered over to the window and looked out again. Danielle’ car was still pulled up and in the driveway. She was home. If anyone had the solvent it would be her.

He threw on one of his linen shirts only to find that the breasts ballooned out in front of his chest. He couldn’t even button up his shirt with those jutting out from there.

Panicking, he jumped to his closet and grabbed his winter jacket. It was the middle of spring, and he’d stand out like a sore thumb. But he’d stand out even more if he crossed the street with C Cups hanging out.

With a deep breath, Mike stepped out of his house and crossed the street. His heart thudded in his chest with each step he took closer to Danielle’s door. His newfound breasts bounced with every step. It was a constant reminder of his predicament.

He felt exposed, and every sound of the neighborhood seemed to echo in his ears. When he finally reached her door, he took a deep breath to settle his nerves before knocking. 

Mike’s nerves grew tauter and tauter. His anxiety spiked as Danielle seemed to take her time to come to the door. He could hear a few footsteps on the other side of the door. She had a quizzical look on her otherwise beautiful features when she opened the door to him.

“Hi, Danielle,” he stuttered, his voice cracking. “I have something for you.” He held up the open box, trying to keep the flaps closed with one hand while clutching the jacket with the other. “It seems there was a mix-up with the mail. I accidentally opened it.”

Danielle’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of him. She was a tall, statuesque woman with fiery red hair that fell in soft waves down her back. “What exactly do you mean by ‘accidentally’?” she asked, her voice cool.

“Well,” he began, “I noticed the box was open, and, uh… I wanted to make sure everything was okay before giving it back to you.” He shuffled his feet, feeling more like a naughty schoolboy than a grown man.

Danielle took the box from him. “Well, thank you for correcting the problem. I’ll be going now.” She went to close the door, but Mike reacted. He reached forward with his hand and held the door open. Danielle had a look of fear at the intrusion, but an understanding smile soon replaced it.

With his hands now spread and away from his jacket, its loose fabric open and hanging from his shoulders. His shirt’s buttons were completely popped from the strain of holding in his new breasts. His two C-Cups now hung out in the open.

“I-I,” he tried to stammer out a lame answer, before Danielle interrupted him again.

Her eyes flashed with cruel understanding. “You seem to have a bit of a problem.” She opened the box and sorted through it. Confirming her suspicions that those were hers.

“Y-yeah, I put them on, and the solvent was missing. I wasn’t expecting the adhesive to be this strong. If you-“

“The problem I see you’re having is that you didn’t put on the rest of your uniform.” She pushed the box back into Mike’s arms. “Why don’t you go home, get changed, and then come back?”

Mike’s jaw fell as he looked at the box and seeing the maid uniform shimmering in the sunlight as it looked back at him. He looked back up at her and tried to blabber out one more apology, “Please, give me the solvent. I’ve learned my lesson to not open your mail.”

“I’m sorry, I would love to continue this conversation, but I’m waiting for my maid. She should be here any moment. So good-bye.” With that, Danielle forced the door closed and left Mike standing on her front porch.

With a mixture of embarrassment and fear, he bolted back across the street and into his door. He peeled off his shirt and jacket and tossed them onto the bed.

He paced for a few minutes, trying to figure out if there was some other way out. He peered out the window at Danielle’s house once more. He would have to do it before it got too late and she got fed up with him. Worst case, she could call the cops on him, too. He could go to jail with these tits on him.

Becoming Mikki the Maid

Mike took a deep breath and grabbed the dress out of the box. It was a French maid outfit. Short and black. He stepped into the skirt and pulled it up over his hips. It was tight, but somehow it fit. He tied the apron around his waist and felt its delicate lace.

He looked over to the box and picked out the frilly white petticoat and slid it over his legs. It poofed out the skirt and helped hide his complete lack of hips. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. There were no shoes in the box so he put on his best dress shoes and hoped Danielle would accept that.

Now he had to get back to Danielle’s house. He opened the door and immediately froze as a fresh breeze rushed over his legs. He felt his mouth turn dry and knew he wasn’t about to get a better shot. He tried to hurry out, but as he did so, he could feel his rush cause the dress to flutter up. His pantied butt on display for the neighborhood.

He paused at the street and looked both ways in time to see a car coming at him. Its loud motor revved as it blasted past. He was certain he heard a wolf whistle echo from the cab.

With little other fanfare, he did manage to mince his way over the street to the door. He knocked once more.

Danielle’s sing-song voice came from the living room. “Who is it?”

“I-It’s Mike,” he managed to say.

“Hmm, I wasn’t expecting Mike. I was expecting my sissy maid Mikki.”

He blushed as he looked left and right down the street once more. His eyes widened as he saw another neighbor beginning to leave their house. If he spent even another minute out here, he would be outed. “Y-yes, that is me, Mikki, your s-sissy maid.”

“Very good,” Danielle said as she opened the door. Mike fell into the opened doorway, his heart pounding.

He felt a protest beginning to form on his lips when his eyes caught her laptop. It was sitting on a small TV tray, its screen rotated away from the couch and facing the door. It was set up so he would see it when he came in.

On its screen was a video from one of those doorbell cameras some people had. Despite it currently being a still image it was obvious from a longer video roll. On its screen was a face he very well recognized. It was him in the French Maid outfit, knocking on the door a few seconds ago.

“Oh, I see you are admiring my security camera video,” Danielle perked up. “It is very state-of-the-art. It even records audio. Wanna hear?” She pressed a button on the laptop, and its tiny speakers reverberated. “Y-yes, that is me, Mikki, your s-sissy maid.”

Mike’s heart fell as he turned away from the video footage to face Danielle, who wore a bright smile. “Now then,” she began, “which room should we start you cleaning first?”