I am Baaack! Part 9

The door eased open, and a woman slowly entered. She appeared terrified, and kept glancing back out the door. Whatever she saw outside the door obviously terrified her more than the possibility of being shot by her, Joan thought. The woman was dark haired, about 5'8" tall with a dynamite figure and, once you looked past the obvious terror, quite a cute face. It was what she was wearing that was unusual - a maids uniform. Oh, not a real utilitarian maid's uniform, but an every male's fantasy French Maid's uniform! 'Oh, my,' thought Joan, and did a quick inventory from the bright red toenails up: Open toed black patent leather five, maybe even six-inch heels; sheer black seamed stockings, the seams arrow straight; a black satin dress with puffy sleeves and a bodice designed to show maximum cleavage and just barely contain what were at least DD cup breasts; short skirt made even shorter by voluminous petticoats, and covered by a cute little apron with the name 'Dainie' embroidered on it in pink; heavy makeup, showgirl rather than slutty, on a face framed by really big Farah Fawcett '70's style hair; glittery jewelry was everywhere to complete the look. This was a high maintenance costume, meant to be uncomfortable and humiliating to the girl wearing it, while stirring lustful thoughts in every male who saw her. 'Her?' This was the kind of costume many of Joan's clients liked for their shemale slaves. Could it be.

By this time, Dainie had gone to the grenade and, bending at the waist, had reached down and disarmed it. She had, of course, revealed her pretty ruffled panties while doing so, and Joan realized she must have been taught to pick things up that way as a tease. She was straightening when it hit Joan: 'DAINIE!' Her mouth dropped open in shock, and the Smith & Wesson clattered on the file cabinet top as it was released by her nerveless fingers. 'OHMYGAWD!' She stood up, totally forgetting any threat from Rose just outside. "A.A.Adain? Adain Ben Hariesh?"