Rafe's maid Anya was too hot. I couldn't stop staring at her.
His dad had assigned her to serve us during our poker game and pre-return-to-college bacchanalia celebration as a gift. It was me and the rest of the boys at Rafe's place, having one last hurrah before we all went back to our separate Ivy Leagues for our Senior years. Rafe and I didn't get along that great, despite being in the same friend group. He was just too crass, and a little cruel, and he could tell I judged him.
The dislike was mutual, but forever unaddressed.
Anya's beauty was obvious, but wasn't the only thing that had me sneaking glances at her, it was also her. . . situation. She served us beers and snacks, endured our leers, and helped gather in the bigger pots at the poker table for winners with no complaint, her big ripe tits on display in her dress the entire time and sometimes brushing our shoulders.
You see, I've always had this dirty little fantasy.
I was a rich kid. I'd always had everything just handed to me; I was the only son of wealthy parents, and my future path to my own wealth and happiness was laid out for me with all the support I could ever need.
But, how would it feel to be a poor girl instead? I'd often wondered about it, alone in my room.
No rich parents, nothing to fall back on, just the need to do whatever it takes not to be on the street? Perhaps needing to use her looks. . .
If I had one magical wish, I'd probably use it to live exactly one week in some sexy, but poor, girl's life, just to taste that feeling of desperation. The thought was tantalizing, even though I didn't understand it.
Once I'd had it, temporarily, I could truly appreciate everything I have in my real life.
It's not like I needed to wish for anything else; I had everything.
It's a weird kink, I know. Wanting to experience an utter lack of privilege. . . but maybe the "being a girl" part is even weirder. . . it's not like I'm transgender or something, even if I have pleasured myself to such fantasies a few times.
OK - a bunch of times.
Girls are just even more vulnerable than guys, that's all. It's a fantasy kink about being powerless, right?
And it's just that - fantasy.
I would die if any of my bros had any inkling about it, though.
But this girl . . . she was 18 or 19 and only about two months off the boat from Russia. Apparently Rafe's family gets a fresh maid every few years.
She barely spoke any English - just enough to make herself somewhat understood - with difficulty. She seemed to understand more than she spoke, however.
She was tall (for a girl) and slim, but with a pair of tits that were a bit oversized for her frame. Fake, I wondered? I tried to tell.
If they were real, she'd won the genetic lottery there, but had unfortunately (for her) lost the lottery for any other privileges in life.
Her Slavic heritage was obvious in her pretty face and dirty blonde or light brunette hair, depending on the lighting.
"Anya's hot alright, but oh man her teeth. . . I think she came here straight out of an orphanage or some shit. They were distractingly crooked. We dropped her off to get braces her first week here, even though I think she didn't really want them. We deduct the cost from her little salary, anyways." Rafe spoke with smug grin, and I felt a burning inside me at her plight. She couldn't even say 'no' to things to things like getting braces on her crooked teeth, and had to pay for them out of her own meager salary on top.
"Dude, she's right there!" I said, immediately embarrassed to defend her when the guys snickered around me. "Can't you treat her with a little respect? She probably understands most of what you're saying. . ."
"It doesn't matter what she understands, she still wants to be HERE more than she wants to go back to RUSSIA. She's fine with it. Aren't you, Anya?" Rafe stroked her arm and she looked away but didn't flinch.
Suddenly Rafe smiled, as if he'd had an idea. He pulled out his phone, opened an app, and typed something. The phone then played something in Russian, that none of us understood.
"Залезь на прилавок и покажи нам свою грудь."
Anya did though - she grimaced before hiding it.
She hesitated only a moment before climbing onto the counter in the kitchenette near where we were playing. She was graceful, and didn't wobble in her heels, but looked amazingly tall and hot up there - a captured goddess. Then she surprised us by unbuttoning her dress to reveal her breasts. They were probably real, I thought.
A few of the guys whistled, and Rafe smirked.
Against my will, my dick swelled further in my pants at her humiliation. How much did she hate this? What was it like for her every day? Why did I want to know?
Anya laid down on the counter, still showing her breasts. Apparently she was going to stay there while we finished our poker night, as eye candy.
With different circumstances, this girl was probably pretty enough and had the height to be a fashion model; but instead she was a maid to my asshole friend and his father, who didn't even respect her enough to keep their humiliation of her behind closed doors.
I should probably be trying to help her, since my family would never treat the help this way, but instead I'm just wondering what it would feel like to BE her. Just for a 'hot minute'. Maybe a day - or two. No more.
It must have been pretty bad for her back home if she felt she had no choice but to stay and put up with this treatment rather than be deported.
Hnggh. I swelled further, and wondered if I could sneak a furtive picture of her with my phone for later. Probably not, without being noticed.
Maybe I could have predicted that while I was secretly trying not to fantasize about briefly experiencing the plight of Anya's situation, she was wishing she could be one of the rich people she served. Any of them. Anything to have a fresh start.
The boys and I all got pretty drunk and Rafe eventually put something new in the pot for the final hand. A trinket he'd found in his father's study. It looked like a little buddha statue that that was gold - at least plated but maybe even through and through. "Whoever wins this last pot gets this as a bonus. A good luck charm." It looked valuable, so the betting got pretty intense.
I slapped down my four 9s and hooted when my win was clear over Sotheby's full house. I reached out to pick up the little gold statue for a closer look, but I hadn't noticed Anya had come down from the counter to help with final clean up.
The pretty maid was reaching out to help me gather the items at the same time as I, her tits brushing against my shoulder again. We both touched the statue simultaneously, and my finger felt suddenly stuck to it like a magnet.
My stomach lurched, and I felt a tugging sensation in my head. I felt like I was going to throw up when the room flipped around me.
I blinked rapidly, brushing long hair away from my eyes. I stepped back from the table I'd been bending over, and tottered on the very unfamiliar 4-inch heels, almost breaking an ankle before grabbing the table.
Hadn't I been sitting down?
I looked down and saw I was wearing Anya's dress, then looked over and saw myself, sitting in the chair at the poker table. 'Andy' looked equally confused as me.
I'd . . . swapped bodies with Anya? Impossible, like a story come to life.
I was now in the body of Rafe's gorgeous Russian maid.
I shrieked and all the boys jumped, confused.
"Что? Как ты, я? Как я, ты??? (What? How are you me? How am I you?)" I said aloud, swaying drunkenly. No one understood me.
I lurched, feeling sick, the room spinning.
Then I fainted.
++++++++++
I woke up hours later. I was surprised at my surroundings; I'd later learn it was Anya's little servant's bedroom in the rear of the huge home. The house was dark; it was the middle of the night.
I was Anya!
It was impossible. But also true.
Я все еще без сознания и живу своей фантазией во сне! (I'm still passed out and living my fantasy in a dream!), I thought.
But no, it was real. My magical wish for one week as a girl in meager circumstances had somehow come true?
A thought occurred to me. They didn't even take their maid to the hospital after she fainted? Poor Anya.
I stripped out of the dress Anya had been wearing and confirmed her tall and slim but busty form was my own, gazing at it in the mirror.
This can't be real, I thought, marveling at Anya's (my) pretty face and full breasts. They were easily the best natural tits I had ever seen on a skinny girl like Anya.
Они на самом деле настоящие (They're actually real), I thought wonderingly. No sign of implants, just full perky softness.
I felt my pussy already starting to moisten at the sight of my new form and situation.
No longer able to resist, I probed my new womanhood with a tentative touch, relieved that Anya didn't have long nails. When my soft caress passed over my clit, I gasped at the sensation. How was it so sensitive?
I looked at my sex in the mirror, slightly surprised to find it shaved smooth. It was much darker than the rest of my smooth pale skin, drawing the eye.
Oni zastavili yeye pobrit'sya? (Did they make her shave it?) I wondered, continuing to touch it's oh-so-sensitive softness absentmindedly.
I felt a mix of surreal shock, horror and extreme arousal at seeing such a pretty pussy where my penis should be.
"Blyat." I muttered, in a thickly accented voice. Only then did I realize I was still thinking, and now speaking, exclusively in Russian.
O bozhe.
At least I would only be like this for a week, right? That had been my fantasy after all.
++++++
The existential crisis that was my new reality gave way pretty quickly to my arousal about an hour later.
While my body, and apparently some parts of my mind, had changed my kink had survived the transfer completely unscathed.
My desperate, sopping arousal only grew as the understanding that this was real sunk further and further into my brain.
Это только временно (It's only temporary), I insisted to myself. Это должно быть (It has to be).
I frigged myself to two orgasms that night.
++++++
Author note: Andy didn't actually want to be Anya . . . but he doesn't seem to hate it so far. What's in store for him in this temporary vacation? Will his kinky excitement last through all of Anya's duties?