...it's like your outfit. After a fashion. It's got ruffles and bows everywhere, like yours. It's far too ornate to be anything but impractical, like yours. And it's even in black and purple, like yours. But it's not a maid's dress. The skirt is too long, reaching down to what you'd imagine would be a wearer's ankles. The petticoats are too ornate, at least three layers in there, attached to the dress and making movement difficult. The sleeves are large and puffy, and connect to gloves built into the dress itself, showing off no skin. The same is true at the legs as well, inky black leggings covering the feet and going all the way up to the waist, sewn into the outfit. In fact, only the face would show if the dress was worn, high neckline aided by a large purple and black bow at the collar bone. Another large bow at the small of the dress's back, like yours, completes the outfit. In your own estimation, it looks like your uniform is meant to be a pale imitation of what your Mistress wears. Which is, as you smile to yourself, exactly as it should be. The entire thing looks and almost feels like it's made of silk and lace, but you know differently, it's as latex as your outfit (though clearly designed to be cute rather than sexy). And you know that this is the dress that'll make your Owner into your Little Mistress. And you can't be more excited.
"Ah! Mistress, your dress has arrived!" your words washing over Brian, heard but not internalized. He's still out of it, and won't escape his fate.
"I...um...I guess?" he nods a little, looking at you and the dress. "I...I guess I should get dressed if I'm naked, right?" His voice sounds uncertain, like he's sure this isn't what should be happening, but it's hard to register. "Can you help me Sapphire?" His voice small, confused.
You nod, "Of course Mistress!" It feels so good to say that! You pull the zipper on the dress down, beginning to guide Brian's legs into the dress.
"'s tight..." Brian stumbles out, his words not really all that coherent as you dress him, sliding him down into the slick confines of the outfit he'll be wearing for the rest of his life. You watch in some satisfaction as his feet make contact with the bottom, toes fitting in all the right places. The dress goes down to his ankles, and it would be past his feet if not for the layers upon layers of petticoats which inhibit his moving. Which means Mistress will have to rely on you to do things for her and that brings another smile to your face.
"Does it feel good Mistress?" You ask, straightening out the hips of the thing. Everything has to be perfect before she changes!
"I...yeah..." he nods, not certain what he's feeling, only that it feels nice.
"Arms out please, Mistress." A request, polite. If he said no, well, you'd stop. But he nods and puts his arms and hands out, letting you guide them, like his legs, into the arms of the dress, threading fingers into their proper spots. Pulling the dress back, so that his shoulders are covered, you smile at him. "Are you ready to be zipped up, Mistress?"
He nods. "O-Okay Sephi...." absently, looking at himself aimlessly in the mirror. A nickname! For you?! Aaaaah! That's amazing! It's all you can do to keep from bouncing up and down. But you've got a job and celebration can wait until after the Little Mistress is dressed. Which is, well, happening now as you, with almost no effort, yank the zipper up, the entire zipper, teeth and all, coming with it.
"And how do you feel Mistress?" You curtsey at Brian, who's only now beginning to wake up.
He looks, blinks, and stops. "I...but...Sephi, w-what am I wearing?" Panic and confusion causing him to go with the name he gave you instinctually.
"Your dress, Little Mistress, don't you remember?" You give Brian a bit of a reassuring smile, his eyes, once brown, are already beginning to march to a different color, a deep and enchanting crimson that seem to shine with royalty and youth.
"This...this isn't what I should be wearing?" He sounds confused, blinking a few times, trying to clear his head, his expression turning angry and afraid. "...w-what are you doing to me Sephi?!" Already at the roots, you can see her hair beginning to lose its color, bleaching itself a rather enchanting silver, shining in the light from the color and what it's made of. "S-Sephi! T-That's an order!" He stomps his foot on the ground, not caring how immature it makes him look.
It's not like you could disobey a direct order, even if you wanted to. "I'm making you into a perfect Mistress, Mistress!" you're excited about this! Even if she yells at you now, she'll get over it soon.
"W-Well...well...s-stop it! C-Change me back!" Another stomp of his foot, lip quivering, eyes beginning to water. "T-That's an order Sephi! Change me back! Change me back!" looking like he's about to cry, even as his silver hair starts to grow out longer and longer, curling at the tips as more and more gets added. Drill curls are in Brian's future, even as the skin on his face begins to pale.
"I can't, Mistress." You do sound apologetic. You truly are. Mistress is upset, so you're upset. But once started, well, it can't stop. "Don't worry though, you'll be beautiful forever Little Mistress!" She seems like she needs reassurance and that's what you'll do.
"S-So...s-so I-I'm g-g-g-going t-to be like y-you?" Her lip quivering as you nod. "F-F-Forever?" Her voice breaking, going from its male tenor to something young, pouty, superior, and very obviously a girl's voice. You nod again. And then, the dam breaks and she begins bawling, collapsing to the floor. "S-SEPHIIIII! I-I D-DON'T W-WANNA B-BE A G-GIRL. SEPHIIIIII..." Her tears, black streaks, roll down her changing face, developing into an exquisitely crafted girl in her early teens with skin the color of moonlight. "S-SEPHIIIIIII!"
You race forward to hug her, sitting down and taking her into your lap. Brian was big before. But the Little Mistress isn't. She barely reaches 4 and a half feet by the time you reach her, delicate and weak. The sort of girl who's always had maids to do things for her. The kind of girl with delicate and tiny fingers and thin little legs. The kind of girl who wears shoes much like yours, but with a smaller platform and a lot more ribbons and bows. The kind of girl who's never worked a day in her life as you feel the dress becoming part of her, binding itself to her skin even as her hair continues to curl and the outfit continues to tighten around her, settling her properly into a perfect Mistress, even as she continues bawling.
You hold her tightly for a long time, the girl's sobs slowly losing intensity. Looking her over, she's in her early teens, if that, with silver shiny hair in drill curls that almost hit the floor. The dress she's wearing, the dress that's a part of her now, is a well proportioned production of black and purple with ruffles and frills everywhere, and barely lets her do more than walk. She can sit up though, which she does as her crying dies. Her crimson eyes look up into yours, still wet with tears. "S-Sephi? S-Sephi...w-what...what am I?"
You know this. You wouldn't be able to answer why. Or how. But this you know. "You're my Mistress, my perfect Little Mistress, forever and ever."
The girl nods, too exhausted to fight you on this, and nods. "....o-okay...." and, yawning with a mouth full of fang, falls asleep on you.