The surprise. Amita’s Story Chapter 1

This is a multi chapter story as there are more things that I will reveal. Please enjoy it, and let me know your feedback as I would like to improve, and understand what everyone here enjoys. Thank you in advance for reading my stories.

I was sitting in the train, as it sped along the tracks to Delhi. The swaying motion made me a little uneasy, but I ignored it. My mind wandered to home and what mother wanted to tell me. We always communicated over calls or messages, so her insistence on visiting home surprised me. I feared she wanted to scold me for dating Rajesh. We had only been out a couple of times, nothing serious yet. Surely that wasn't reason enough for the summons?, or was it because she wanted to celebrate my birthday, I had turned 19 a week ago, so maybe that was the reason?

I gazed out the window as the countryside flashed by, fields of wheat and rice waving in the breeze. I loved the view from the train window, it never ceased to amaze me. Soon we would reach Delhi cantonment station, my stop.

A few minutes later the loud speaker yelled out "Delhi Cantonment, next stop!" I stood up ready to step off when the train ground to a halt. Disembarking passengers hurried onto the platform as I stepped down and walked towards the exit, I always travelled heavy, I had 2 large bags and a backpack with me for a week.

Outside the station, our chauffeur waited by the car, holding my name on a placard. He greeted me warmly, "Namaste Amita Ji! Priya Ji sent me to pick you up." I smiled in acknowledgement as he took my bags and loaded them into the trunk of our BMW. Settling into the backseat, I gazed out at the bustling city streets as we drove home.

I came from a family that was well off financially. My father Pritam Singh was one of Delhi's most successful businessmen, having made his fortune in real estate development and construction. He had since retired, handing over day to day operations to my elder brother Vikram who now resided with his wife Priya in another mansion on the other side of town.

Growing up we lived a charmed life, with every material comfort one could imagine. Our large home was staffed with servants and cooks, a chauffeur at our disposal and vacations abroad planned yearly. I had always been close to my parents but had lost connection to Vikram since he got married, there seem to be a void between us.

I gazed out the tinted window of the BMW as we sped along the highway towards home. The chauffeur drove expertly, maneuvering through traffic with ease. Soon we exited onto a tree lined boulevard that led to our neighborhood. Mansions set back from the road, each one more opulent than the last.

We pulled into our driveway, the wrought iron gates swinging open as the car approached. I saw my home come into view - it was an imposing white marble structure with colonnaded verandahs and arched windows. The car halted by the front steps and the chauffeur hopped out to open my door.

I stepped out of the BMW onto the red sandstone pavers that led up to our double height front doors. Our home was built in a colonial style, with manicured lawns surrounding it on all sides. A gardener tended to the flowerbeds, deadheading spent blooms.

As I climbed the steps to the front door, heels clicking loudly against the stone, I reached for the bell pull. Just before my fingers grazed the metal, a click sounded and one of the double doors swung inward silently.

I stepped through into our foyer, looking around in surprise at the unfamiliar face that greeted me. A woman stood there, dressed in a red sari with gold embroidery along the border. She had on a veil covering her head so I couldn't see her features but she was stunningly beautiful nonetheless.

The woman curtsied deeply as I entered, bowing her head and stepping aside to let me pass.
"Namaste Priya Ji!" she intoned in a coarse voice, hands clasped together. "Please come in." She took my bags from the chauffeur who had followed me inside, inclining her head regally. I caught a hint of manliness in her voice, but ignored it.

I gazed at her in wonder as I walked into our expansive foyer. The marble floor gleamed underfoot and a grand staircase curved up to the second story landings above. Ornate rugs were scattered artfully, gilt framed mirrors hung on the walls.

I settled onto one of the plush velvet sofas that dominated our cavernous living room as the woman climbed the stairs with my luggage. The click clack of stiletto heels echoed loudly from above. I gazed around, marveling at how little had changed since I'd left for college.

The décor was still impeccably tasteful, a mix of antique and modern furnishings that showcased our wealth. Ornate vases sat on marble tables, silk curtains draped the windows. Everything shone with polish and care.

I settled onto one of the plush velvet sofas that dominated our cavernous living room as the woman climbed the stairs with my luggage. The click clack of stiletto heels echoed loudly from above. I gazed around, marveling at how little had changed since I'd left for college.

The décor was still impeccably tasteful, a mix of antique and modern furnishings that showcased our wealth. Ornate vases sat on marble tables, silk curtains draped the windows. Everything shone with polish and care.

I stared after her retreating figure in astonishment as she ascended the staircase with my heavy bags as if they weighed nothing at all. How could a woman manage such towering heels with such ease? Surely this was not the first time she had worn them.

Just then I heard my mother's voice calling out, "Amita! I'm so glad you made it safely." She emerged from her study, looking radiant in a simple but elegant ankle length dress, her hair pulled back in a chignon. Minimal jewelry adorned her wrists and ears, as was her habit. Flat ballet pumps covered her feet.

We embraced warmly, mother enfolding me in her arms. "How was the journey? I hope you're not too tired." She guided me over to the sofa and we sat down together.

Mother and I settled onto the plush velvet sofa. "So tell me dear, how are things at college? Are you enjoying your classes?" She gazed at me inquiringly.

I responded to mother's queries about school. Just then we heard the click clack of heels once more, announcing the arrival of our mysterious visitor from before.

She descended the grand staircase with lithe grace, stilettos flashing in the light. Stopping before us she bowed low, hands pressed together.

I gazed at her in astonishment as she clasped her hands together demurely before us, the bangles jangling on her wrists. The red saree draped elegantly over her curvaceous figure and the gold embroidery glinted under the chandelier lights.

As she bowed low, I caught a glimpse of long dangling earrings swaying beneath her veil that brushed against her slender shoulders. A flash of metal peeked out from under the gossamer fabric - surely a large nosering adorned her delicate nostril.

Pink lips curved in a smile as she straightened up and I noticed her diamond mangalsutra, draped over her chest. Countless bangles encircled each slender wrist, chiming melodically as she moved.

Pink nail polish glistened on her dainty toes peeking out from under her saree as she pivoted gracefully to leave. A glittering jewel winked at me from her pierced navel. Her lipstick matched her nails and the ruby tones of her bindi, a perfect crimson hue.

Pratima dear, would you please make some chai for Amita and me? I'm sure she's parched after her journey."
Pratima bowed low once more, bangles jangling as she pressed palms together. Without uttering a word she glided silently from the room.

I turned to mother in astonishment as Pratima exited the living room. "Mother, who is this mysterious lady? Why have I not seen her before?”

Mother regarded me seriously. "Patience Amita my dear. All will be revealed at dinner tonight. For now, please freshen up after your long journey." She patted my hand reassuringly.

The click clack of stiletto heels heralded Pratima's return with a silver tray bearing two steaming cups of chai. The aroma of fragrant spices wafted over to me as she approached, head bowed humbly.

Setting the tray down on the coffee table before us, Pratima bowed again and retreated quietly to stand against the wall.

Pratima placed our teacups carefully in front of each of us, then stepped back with another graceful curtsy. She clasped hands demurely before her as she took up a position several paces away from where we sat, eyes downcast and silent as a statue.

I gazed at the fragrant chai steaming invitingly in its china cup but my curiosity was piqued by the mysterious lady.

Mother regarded Pratima thoughtfully for a moment before addressing her. "Pratima dear, please finish preparing dinner for us.”

Pratima bowed low once more, bangles jangling loudly in the stillness of the room as she pressed palms together. Without a word she spun on her heel and glided silently from the living room, stilettos clicking against the marble floor.

Mother patted my hand soothingly as she rose from the sofa. "Everything will become clear at dinner tonight Amita. For now, please freshen up after your long journey dear. We'll speak more then."
With that she swept from the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a cup of cooling chai.

I ascended the grand staircase to the second floor landings, marveling at how Pratima had managed to unpack all my things so swiftly. My suitcases were nowhere to be seen - surely they weighed far more than this slender beauty could handle!

Entering my bedroom I gasped in amazement - everything was immaculate and precisely arranged. Clothes hung neatly in the closet, cosmetics lined up on my dresser top, accessories glittered from their velvet-lined cases.

Even my hairbrush lay perfectly angled atop a lace doily on the vanity table!

I admired how meticulously Pratima had unpacked and organized all of my belongings. She had even thought to stow my suitcases out of sight at the far end of the walk-in closet, leaving the room uncluttered.

My makeup was arranged by type - lipsticks grouped together, eyeshadows in another cluster, blushes in a neat row. Hair ties and clips sparkled from atop the dresser while perfumes stood sentinel on one corner.

Pratima's attention to detail left me stunned - she had managed to unpack my entire room in mere minutes! I could scarcely imagine how she had achieved such an accomplishment.

I heard mother calling from downstairs, her melodic voice echoing up the stairwell. "Amita! Dinner is ready dear. Please join us!" Her tone was tinged with excitement.

Drying off quickly from my shower, I hastily donned a simple salwar kameez and brushed out my damp curls before hurrying downstairs. My towel lay in a heap on the carpet but I decided to tidy it later. I had already made a mess of my room, cluttering my clothes all around the bed, and makeup strewn around. It looked a far cry from how Pratima had left it.

Descending the grand staircase once more, I entered the cavernous dining room to find Pratima standing rigidly at attention near the table, hands clasped demurely before her. Mother sat regally at the head of the long mahogany table.

She gestured for me to take my seat beside her as Pratima hurried over and pulled out a plush velvet chair, indicating I should be seated.

Pratima glided silently across the marble floor, stiletto heels clicking loudly against the stone. She halted by a side table laden with silver trays, then approached bearing a plate with golden samosas, chutnies, chana and yogurt.

Setting it down before me with a soft clink, Pratima retreated a few steps and bowed, hands pressed together. "Chaat, Amita Ji?" she inquired in a coarse voice.

I gazed at the sumptuous feast spread out on the dining room table - steaming paneer tikka masala and dal makhani, fragrant basmati rice in a serving bowl. Platters of crisp samosas and tangy chaat sat temptingly nearby.

Atop it all perched an ornate bowl with gulab jamun, the syrupy sweet balls glistening invitingly under the chandelier lights. Pratima hovered attentively as she waited for mother's instructions.

Mother regarded me thoughtfully before addressing Pratima who hovered attentively near the kitchen doorway. "Pratima dear, would you please fetch some rotis?”.

Pratima bowed low, bangles jangling as she pressed palms together demurely. "Ji haan Priya Ji!" Without another word she spun on her heel and hurried off to the kitchen.

I gazed after Pratima's retreating figure in astonishment before turning back to mother. “Mother, where is father? I haven't seen him since I arrived." Surely he would want to greet me too."

Mother smiled enigmatically as she patted my hand soothingly. "Pritam is here darling, you'll meet him soon enough. For now let's enjoy our dinner in peace.”

I wondered at her cryptic words but said nothing, instead turning back to the feast before us.

Pratima reappeared from the kitchen bearing a tray with 2 golden rotis. She approached the table and bowed low as she set it down in our plates.

Pratima retreated back to the kitchen only to return moments later with another couple of steaming rotis. She retreated several paces and bowed once more.

As I reached to pick up my plate to clear it, mother stopped me. "No no dear, Pratima will take care of that. Finish your dinner first." She gestured towards our silent attendant who hovered attentively nearby.

Mother and I retreated to the plush velvet sofas dominating the cavernous living room as we sipped our chai. The aroma of fragrant spices wafted invitingly from our cups as Pratima bustled about clearing away the dishes with surprising dexterity considering her towering heels.

“Mother, who is this woman? Surely she's not just a maid!" I gazed at mother quizzically, astonished by such elegant attire on mere household staff.

Pratima glided silently across the marble floor, stiletto heels clicking loudly against the stone. She halted before the long dining table laden with dirty dishes and began to clear them away with practiced ease.

The jangling of countless bangles heralded each reaching motion as Pratima gathered up plates and utensils. Anklets tinkled melodically at her every step, occasionally punctuated by the sharp click clack of her sky high stilettos.

Pratima approached us a few moments later, hands clasped demurely before her as she bowed deeply in deference to mother and me. The chimes from her bangles and anklets sounded like church bells heralding her arrival.

Straightening up, Pratima gazed at mother expectantly, awaiting instructions on what task she should perform next.

Mother regarded Pratima thoughtfully for a long moment before nodding towards the gossamer veil that obscured her face. "Pratima dear, you may remove your ghunghat now.”

Pratima bowed deeply once more as she reached up with dainty hands to slowly draw back the sheer fabric draped across her head.

I gazed in astonishment as inch by inch the veil rose to reveal…

As Pratima drew back her ghunghat I beheld a vision of breathtaking beauty. Her large pink bindi, glittering with shimmery design, sat just above a streak of vibrant red sindoor on her forehead. Long glossy hair was swept up in an intricate bun adorned with a fragrant gajra garland. Pratima's earlobes drooped under the weight of enormous diamond and ruby studs that seemed to fill the entire expanse of each ear. More piercings encrusted more precious studs that swayed hypnotically as she moved. A delicate silver chain connected the dangling diamonds and rubies on Pratima's earrings to an equally ornate nosering adorning her left nostril. The nose stud glittered fiercely as it touched her pink lip, tinkling gently as Pratima moved. Pratima's right nostril also held an impressive nosering in the shape of a lotus flower, each petal dripping with glittering diamonds. The gems winked in the light as Pratima gazed demurely downward. A heavy diamond mangalsutra draped across Pratima's chest, the chain links glinting under the chandelier lights. Beneath that glittered a ruby and diamond studded choker encircling her graceful throat.

"Pratima, you may lift your saree.” Mother purred. Pratima bowed once more, to lift her saree.

I gazed down at Pratima's feet as she drew back her saree to reveal a pair of glittering stiletto heels encrusted with some kind of iridescent material. The shoes were at least six inches tall but Pratima wore them with the ease and grace of someone who had been born in such footwear.

Tinkling anklets adorned each slender ankle, the bells jangling melodically as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

Pratima's makeup was impeccable - smoky eyeshadow framed by thickly applied kohl liner and darkened brows arched expressively above large doe eyes. A thin line of eyeliner drew attention to the almond shape while mascara coated lashes made them look lush and full.

Pink lipstick, matching her bindi, curved into a perfect Cupid's bow over voluptuous lips glossed to a high sheen. She had a smile perched on her lips, like she was enjoying this show.

I gazed incredulously at Pratima, scarcely believing my eyes. Surely such exquisite adornments were far beyond the means of even our most esteemed servants! Turning to mother in astonishment I sputtered out, “Mother, who is this woman? She can't possibly be a maid - look at all that jewelry!”

Mother gazed at me steadily, her expression unreadable. After a long moment she spoke slowly and clearly.

"Pratima isn't our servant Amita...she's your father Pritam."

I gazed incredulously at mother's revelation, scarcely believing my ears. Surely she must be joking! But no, the evidence was right before my eyes - there stood my father, resplendent in saree, jewels and heels.
The man I had known all my life as Pritam Singh now went by Pratima. It was too much to process.

I sat frozen on the plush velvet sofa, speechless and stunned. Mother gazed at me calmly, awaiting a response to her momentous pronouncement. After a long moment I managed to stammer out a reply.
"You...you mean father is Pratima full time? Like all day, every day?" My voice sounded small in the cavernous room.

Mother nodded solemnly as she regarded me with a steady gaze. "Yes dear, your father has embraced his true self and identity. He lives life as Pratima now - 24 hours a day, seven days a week.”

I gazed at her incredulously before turning to stare in shock at my transformed parent. This was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

My mind reeled with the enormity of mother's revelation. Father didn't just dabble in crossdressing anymore - he lived it, every waking moment! A myriad of questions flooded my brain but before I could voice them, Pratima spoke up.

"Yes Amita Ji, your Priya Ji speaks the truth," she intoned melodically. "I am now fully Pratima, body and soul." Her tone was even and matter-of-fact as if stating something utterly mundane.

Pratima gazed at me with a beatific smile, ruby lips curving upwards. "And I have more exciting news to share! Soon I shall be getting breast implants - your Priya Ji and I are thinking a lovely pair of 38DDs should suit me perfectly.”

I gazed in stunned silence as Pratima's words washed over me. Breast implants? Surely this was a joke! But no - she seemed utterly serious and content with her transformation.

Mother addressed our attendant who hovered attentively nearby. "Pratima dear, please finish your chores.”

Pratima bowed low, bangles jangling loudly as she pressed palms together demurely. "Ji haan Priya Ji!" Without another word she spun on her heel and glided gracefully from the room, stilettos clicking against the marble floor.

Mother gazed after Pratima wistfully for a moment before turning back to me with a soft smile. Settling herself more comfortably on the plush velvet sofa, she began to speak.

"Your father has always been fascinated by feminine attire and adornment, even from childhood," she explained calmly. "He and I used to dress up together when we were neighbors and schoolmates.”

Priya's eyes sparkled with nostalgic memories as she reminisced about her youthful antics with Pritam. "We would sneak into my mother's closet and try on sarees, bindis, bangles - all sorts of girly things! Your father had such a flair for it even then.”

She chuckled softly before continuing. "He was a natural born beauty!”

Priya gazed wistfully at some point in the distance as she recalled their early courtship and marriage. "When I came home after college, your father was already an established businessman. He confessed his love of crossdressing to me then.”

Mother glanced over at Pratima fondly before returning her attention back to me. "I accepted him completely for who he is inside.”

Priya gazed wistfully at some point in the distance as she reminisced about their early courtship and marriage. "When Vikram and you were little, your father dressed only when we were alone or at night after you'd gone to sleep.”

She glanced over fondly before returning her attention back to me with a soft smile playing on her lips. "As Vikram and you grew older, your father curtailed his crossdressing - we couldn't risk him being discovered by outsiders.”

She spoke with a soft smile playing on her lips. "It's only now that you're grown and gone from home that he feels comfortable expressing himself fully.”

"Pratima is a part of who your father has always been inside," she explained gently. "We felt it was time for you to know the full truth now that you're an adult.”

I gazed at mother in astonishment, scarcely believing what she had just revealed to me about my father's true identity and lifestyle. It was a lot to take in all at once - the man I had known as Pritam Singh now lived full time as Pratima.

Mother gazed back at me compassionately as she spoke again. "I know it's a shock Amita, but this is who your father truly is inside. He's been hiding his authentic self for far too long.”

She reached out and clasped my hand in hers reassuringly. "Please try to accept him as Pratima. It would mean the world to both of us.”

"It's...it will take some getting used to," I admitted haltingly. "But I want you both to be happy mother.”

Priya gazed at me earnestly, her expression softening as she saw my acceptance of their revelation. "Thank you for your understanding Amita. There are a few ground rules we should discuss though.”

She straightened up on the plush sofa and began to outline expectations moving forward in this new dynamic.

I gazed at mother quizzically, wondering what sort of rules could possibly apply in this bizarre situation. "Rules? What do you mean mother?" Surely there was no precedent for such a unique family arrangement.

Mother smiled enigmatically as she gazed over at Pratima who hovered attentively nearby. Turning back to me with a warm expression she explained, "Trust me Amita dear, you'll like these rules."

Priya gazed at me earnestly as she outlined each rule, providing examples to clarify expectations. She began with the first tenet.

"Rule number one Amita," Priya stated firmly, "is that Pratima is to be referred to using feminine pronouns only. She is no longer a man - in fact, she identifies fully as a woman named Pratima."
Priya glanced over at her spouse who bowed demurely at the instruction. Turning back to me with a solemn expression she continued laying out the ground rules for our new dynamic.

"Second," Priya proclaimed, "you are not to lift a finger for any household task. Not dusting, not vacuuming, nothing." She gazed around imperiously before fixing her daughter with a stern look.
"Pratima is solely responsible for all chores - cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, you name it. She lives to serve us now.”

I gazed at mother in astonishment, scarcely believing what I was hearing. Surely she couldn't be serious! "What do you mean? How can Pratima take care of everything by herself?”

Priya regarded me calmly as she elaborated on the second rule. "Pratima's sole purpose is to serve and please us now Amita. She revels in being ordered around.”

Mother gazed at me, her expression softening slightly as she gave an example. "For instance," she gestured towards the coffee table where a TV remote sat conspicuously, "you could simply order Pratima to fetch that for you.”

Mother smiled encouragingly as she continued. "She would happily oblige without question or complaint.”

Mother gazed at me warmly as she provided another example. "You needn't pick up your own dishes after dinner either. Simply direct Pratima to clear the table and she will do so gladly.”

Mother leaned back on the plush sofa, a satisfied smile playing about her lips as she envisioned this new domestic arrangement.

Mother gazed wistfully into the distance as she reminisced fondly about one such incident. "Just yesterday I made Pratima walk up and down the grand staircase several times carrying various items.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she recalled the scene. "First it was a glass of water, then some snacks, followed by my book and finally my phone." Priya chuckled softly at the memory.

Mother gazed at me serenely as she outlined Pratima's duties in meticulous detail. "If you need to bathe, Pratima will draw your bathwater for you," she stated matter-of-factly.

"And when you're done, she'll arrange a fresh towel and robe for you." Mother regarded me steadily, her expression calm yet firm.

"For me Pratima assists with drying off and dressing afterwards but for your comfort I think it best if we refrain from such intimacies.”

She reached over to pat my hand reassuringly. "You can still manage those tasks yourself dear.”

Mother gazed at me earnestly as she outlined the next rule. "Pratima must always curtsy when entering a room," she instructed firmly, "and afterwards whenever an order is given.”

Rule four "She is to remain silent unless spoken to directly by one of us," she stated flatly.

"And when she does speak, it is always with respect.”

"The final rule Amita dear," she proclaimed triumphantly, "is that Pratima must always wear six inch heels and saree only.”

Priya gazed over at her spouse admiringly as if to say "Isn't she stunning?" before fixing me with an expectant look awaiting my response.

I sat stunned, scarcely believing the strictures mother was laying out. Surely this couldn't be right! But Priya regarded me calmly as if dictating common sense.

"It's all Pratima's own rules actually," Mother confessed with a wry smile. "She enjoys being bossed around and made to serve.”

"Your father has always been such a gentle soul, so eager to please.” Her expression softened lovingly before continuing. "Living as Pratima fulfills him in ways you and I could never comprehend." Mother turned back to me with an indulgent smile.

I gazed at mother in astonishment, my head spinning from all the revelations of the evening. It was a lot to take in - father's true identity, the new domestic arrangements, Pratima's complete subservience.
Finally I nodded slowly, still struggling to process it all but accepting their choice nonetheless. "Okay mother," I acquiesced wearily. "I understand.”

I trudged upstairs, exhausted from the long day of travel followed by this emotionally taxing conversation with Priya. Entering my room, I gasped in amazement to see everything had been tidied and arranged perfectly as before.

My strewn clothes lay neatly folded on the bed, makeup and toiletries put away in their proper places. Even the towel I'd carelessly dropped on the floor was nowhere to be seen!

Just then I heard Priya call out from downstairs, her voice echoing up the marble staircase. "Pratima! Water NOW.”

The familiar clicking of stiletto heels against stone and jangling of anklets preceded Pratima's ascent up to mother's room to fulfill her command once more.

The end: Chapter 1.

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