Witch Chronicles

"Yes, sir, but where can I get such garments?"

"In the servants' quarters. You can get directions from my Secret
Service man outside."

"Thank you, sir." I almost ran outside. Waiting outside was one of
those cookie cutter Secret Service guys, dark suit, dark glasses, ear
plug. I got directions and ran off. As I went, I briefly mused on
why Secret Service men would be needed. Between the President's and
his wife's magic, as well as their connection to the Dark Alliance,
any gun armed thugs would be somewhat superfluous. I supposed that
it was an image thing.

When I got to the servants' area, I found that the standard garb had
definitely been modified. Modern maid uniforms tended to the simple
and functional, smocks for protection rather than pretty little
scraps of cloth designed to show off the assets of the wearer. The
clothes I found tended towards the latter. I picked out this dainty,
feminine thing, a French maid's outfit, I think, along with some
appropriate undergarments. After dressing, I took the make-up that
was there and put some on. I had no idea what I was doing, and I put
on way too much. I came out looking whorish, but it was the best I
could do.

I returned to the room I had left. The previous Secret Service man
was still there, but he had been joined by another. This one, like
the President, was a man with boobs. He wasn't wearing the same
Secret Service outfit as the other, but rather a white, frilly blouse
with black skirt and jacket. I nodded to them before going inside.

Inside, the President had been joined by the First Lady, a pretty
blonde with large boobs. The President was on his hands and knees.
The First Lady was sitting naked behind him, finger fucking his ass,
and drinking something out of a fluted wine glass. When I walked in,
she asked, "Is this our new girl?"

The President looked over, saw me, said, "Yeah, that's her," and
returned to enjoying his finger fucking.