Michael immediately thought back to the view he'd caught down the faux-air hostess's dress as she wished him a pleasant vacation. He now experienced a similar perspective when he gazed at his body and saw a large, mature pair of breasts confined but not disguised by the bodice bound tightly around his torso. A very unattractive-brown skirt flowed away from his dress and touched his toes, wrapped in workman's boots. His dress was sleeveless, and his biceps were reassuringly firm from many hours of toiling away at the most menial labor. His legs felt similarly buff. None of his physical prowess could disguise the fact, though, that Michael's youth had been spirited away, and he was at least two decades older, staring face to face with his mom and father through strands of gray-brown hair jutting out from his headscarf.
"Oh man! Andrew is our freaking maid!" Ryan cackled. Susan and Mark stared at the panicky Michael with concern. He clutched desperately at his body, aware of every change in his curvature. This female physique had apparently given birth before - he felt the strain in his hips and around his loins. He looked up and caught Damien's confused stare. Jessica stood behind him, trying with all her might to disguise the giggles Ryan was infecting her with.
"Now, uh... Let's not make this harder for Michael," Mark attempted in his much gruffer, more authoritative king voice. "You'd be scared too to be in such a new body."
Ryan calmed down. "All right. All right. I'm sorry, Michael, I didn't mean anything bad..."
"Well, what do I do!?" Michael cried. He winced at his inescapable, higher-pitched British accent. "I don't want to be a servant! We have to lodge a complaint!"
"I don't know..." Susan averted her eyes. "I don't know if that's possible, son."
"Maybe I can give you some of my wardrobe," Jessica offered. "Nobody will be able to tell you're a servant, you'll look like part of royalty!"
"But she's too big!" Damien said with only the bluntness a five year old could manage.
"Now, now, since this is our vacation, nobody needs to treat Michael like a servant. He will be family. That's all. Nothing can change that."
The discussion continued off of Ryan's declaration, agreeing with it, disagreeing, qualifying, debating the extent of this fantasy world and whether there were other maids and servants who might recognize Michael as one of them, and what would they do then. Michael could not believe the ease with which his family argued semantics when he could only think: I'm in a dress! I have cleavage! I have the air hostess's cleavage! I can feel my vagina and I don't want to feel it anymore!
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