Roger's Plight
Book 1 - The Beginning
An original saga
By Constance Grant
Copyright (c) 1999 by Constance Grant, Manasquan, NJ
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to actual persons or events is
purely coincidental.
This story may be posted only if available to the reader at no charge,
unless prior arrangements are entered into with the author.
ConnieBabe69@Hotmail.com
This is a spoof guys, so lighten up already! Constance Grant, 1999
Completion
Realization, the First Step
I often sit back and think, "I wish I'd done that," and find out later that I
already have. Richard Harris, 1932
Roger and I had been married for five years, and our relationship was
going in the trash fast. Girls I know others of you out there are in a
relationship as hopeless as mine was, if the following sounds familiar a
happy solution is yours for the grasping:
1) Roger was always a poor lover:
2) His dick just wasn't large enough to please even a schoolgirl.
3) He had absolutely no staying power.
4) He didn't like to give head, and always refused me when I asked, in all
honestly, at times I even begged.
5) He absolutely took me for granted!
6) To make matters worse he felt inadequate at work as he tried to
compete. The competition and feelings of inadequacy literary drove him
to drink.
7) In four years he gained sixty-five pounds, from his one hundred and
fifty five pounds, athletic, five foot eight frame when we were married.
8) He secretly liked to wear my undies and masturbate in them (as if I
didn't know.) He was so selfish he wouldn't even share his fetishes with
me.
Dear reader you might ask, why did I marry this looser? What can I say, I
loved him, and I still do. Besides, at the time we married he was kind,
sensitive, good humored, funny, and was quite wealthy. At the time I
intervened in a positive way, I wasn't even sure he was wealthy.
Nancy Walsh is my best friend in the whole world and lives in San
Francisco, but unfortunately we had only talked to one another on the
phone for years. At the University she was my big sister in our sorority,
and as she became a physician and I a surgical nurse, we were together for
my full five years. You can understand we had no secrets from one
another.
Shortly after Roger married me, it was clear he was just not satisfying me,
so naturally I tearfully confided in Nancy. She gave me the absolutely
best advice. "Catherine baby, find a married surgeon who is well horned,
and make it clear to him that all you want is sex, not homemaking."
I did, have you ever noticed surgeons have the greatest hands? For the
past five years Mike and I have done everything we could imagine several
times a week. His other half is most unsatisfactory, having at least two of
the four problems Roger used to have. But with the aid of a cook, maid
and nanny she is an adequate homemaker, makes children, (but disdains
sex,) and is socially connected. So it's not in Mike's interest to dump her,
as long as I continue to fill his other needs. Let me tell you,
confidentially, he is a fucking stud. He is funny, gentle, blond, six two,
one ninety of pure muscle and hung like a stallion, but with exquisitely
sensitive hands and nature - it's a very satisfying arrangement for both of
us.
Roger never suspected I had a lover. How could he? He would attempt
intimacy every few days when we were first married, but by the time I
intervened it was every month or so. Mindful of our prenuptial agreement
I never refused him, even if my friend was visiting. Letting him pump
away whenever the spirit moved him, it never lasted more than two or
three minutes anyway.
Nancy finally visited for a weekend a year ago while she was in New
York City for a symposium. Roger did all his disgusting tricks while she
was visiting, and seeing the situation, she gave me her usual good advice.
Over cocktails at our golf and tennis club Nancy started out by asking me,
"Do you remember Billy from the sorority house."
"Christ, how could I forget Billy, he gave the best head I ever had, his
tongue was absolutely insatiable. It makes me wet just to think of it."
"Think back. Do you have any idea why he lived in our house as a
serving girl all those years?"
"Not really, I never thought about it, it was enough he was there when
needed. Come to think of it, he did make kind of a cute girl though."
"When I was a freshman we noticed him sneaking into the house and
stealing our undies, then he would crouch outside our windows looking at
us and jerk off into them. Do you remember Beth?"
"Yes, hadn't thought about her in years. What did she do?"
"She took flash pictures of him outside Paula's window while she was
giving him a show. He panicked and fell off the porch roof. He was
unconscious when we took him into the house and decided to teach him a
lesson. When he recovered consciousness he was dressed in our undies
and makeup, everybody contributed something, totally uncoordinated; he
was such a sight we threatened to call the police. He begged and pleaded
with us not to, he said he would do anything for us. Anything! Catherine
baby, do you see where I'm going with this?"
"Yes I do. You may just have saved our marriage." After all Roger's
mother had me sign one nasty prenuptial agreement, and was living in
Florida just waiting for a chance to enforce it.
We sat down then and there and outlined the plan to help Roger discover
his true self, and it sure as hell wasn't as the stud king. As Nancy left for
her conference, she told me to expect 'Care' packages to begin arriving
Tuesday.
I kept a log of events in the form of brief narratives, as I read through
them I don't like myself very much, but outside of grammatical changes I
left them as written. The perceptive reader will see how absolute power
corrupts, and perhaps avoid that pitfall.
Tough Love
However it is debased or misinterpreted, love is a redemptive feature. To
focus on one individual so that their desires become superior to yours is a
very cleansing experience. Jeanette Winterson (1959)
The first package was from NYC. It was a fancy remote controlled
camcorder with a three-foot fiber-optic lens. Nancy must have spent a
fortune, but when I said something about paying her for it she replied,
"Catherine baby, let me do this for you, you are my best friend in this
entire world and this is the least I can do. However, I am interested in the
San Francisco Canine Society, perhaps a small donation in our name."
Nancy is so helpful; I sent ten thousand dollars in her name to the dogs.
Roger liked to 'dress and jerk' in the large downstairs powder room,
where he thought I couldn't hear him. It was a simple matter to poke a
hole through from the hall closet and feed the lens into the bathroom just
about where I had a shelf with knickknacks. Have you noticed? Men
never pay attention to them. Over the next four weeks, I captured Roger
no less than fourteen times in the act. Several times, he passed out from
drinking too much - he looked like one of those cartoon dancing-elephants
with a tutu, as he snored and grunted on the bathroom floor. Don't get me
wrong, I didn't want him in my bed soused, but I was a trifle miffed that
he preferred the bathroom floor to it.
I had the lock on the bathroom door changed so I could open it from the
outside. While passed out (his sleep made deeper with a little shot of
chlorpromazine) I posed him in various outfits, even being so bold as
applying makeup crudely as he might. I left it on him, but he had
removed it each time before I saw him. The camera had video output so I
hooked it up to an unused channel on our satellite system, that way I could
see Roger on our bedroom TV.
True to her word, Nancy sent me several additional boxes of essentials
from San Francisco, and with the things I had picked up locally - well I
was ready for the next time Roger passed out.
I thought the whole thing through very carefully, from every angle. I was
actually teetering on the edge of going through with it or not, when I
looked in my panty draw for a pair of panties to wear - so many were all
stretched out, virtually unusable. Can you believe it, one was put back
loaded with crusty cum; I just don't know what he was thinking.
That did it, Roger was history, and Bridget was about to be born.
Week 0
Roger passed out on Thursday night and I took additional Polaroid
pictures to add to the hundred and fifty or so I already had. I removed my
once lovely cum stained panties entirely from him. Then I fastened a cute
little testicle restraint on his useless disgusting hairy balls. Wincing a little
at the thought of the pain this diabolical device could cause, I tied its
control chain to my belt. Then I put a belt with fur lined manacles for each
wrist on him followed by fur lined ankle restraints which limited his stride
to fifteen inches or so.
I poured water on his head and the pig moaned and peed on the floor, well
I wasn't going to clean it up. Eventually he woke up and I got him to his
feet. He started to get sick and I pushed his head into the bowl until he
finished. It was only then that he realized he was restrained and that I had
him by the balls.
He started to complain loudly, and I tugged fairly hard on his cute little
testicle restraint, he doubled over with a gasp. When he stopped
squealing I told him to shut-up and come upstairs with me. It only took a
few more little tugs on his balls to get him quietly moving. Girls, if you
don't have one of those little things, get one, they're magic.
Anticipating his mess, I had a shower curtain on the floor at the foot of
our bed and I had him sit on it. The colors clashed horribly, but who
expects to use a shower curtain in the bedroom? I resolved to purchase
something more harmonious first chance. Fastening a dog's collar around
his neck and chaining it to the brass rail at the foot of our bed I smiled a
little. I was really glad now that I had insisted on having a sturdy brass
king size four poster when we furnished this room. I tied his balls to the
bottom rung of the bed. He could only move his head a few inches and
his butt not at all, clearly I had his undivided attention as we watched
videos for an hour or so.
I almost felt sorry for the miserable half-drunk bastard; after all I loved
him - after a fashion. After the video show he agreed to do what ever I
asked, so I released his right arm and had him sign twenty or so medical
release forms. Then I had him read and sign a confession admitting that
he would cross-dress, and then to cruise gay bars for tricks (Nancy's
touch.) Surprisingly his little thing was got hard (relatively, you
understand) as he read that.
In the last section, he admitted to being a woman in a man's body, and
begged me to help him achieve his dream of being a woman in a woman's
body. Then I focused the camcorder on his face to record the moment for
the record. He really did a very convincing job, he had real tears in his
eyes at the right dramatic time, it made me wonder. He was reluctant
looking into the camera at first, but that cute little testicle restraint was
everything Nancy said it would be
I told him that from now on he would do everything I told him to,
cheerfully and willingly - or face the consequences. If he tried my
patience too much, I would very publicly divorce him, and with this tape,
I could break our prenuptial agreement.
I led him into our bathroom and had him shower after I removed the
restraints, except for the cute little testicle restraint of course. I did his
back and helped him dry off in a most loving way. Then I reapplied his
restraints, padlocked his dog collar chain to the sink's drainpipe, and his
ball's leash to the hook on the ceiling that I normally have a lovely spider
plant hanging from. The chain from the testicle restraint was almost long
enough for him to lie on the floor comfortably. When he complained I
told him that was 'one,' and went into the bedroom for a penis ball gag,
and put it on locking the little padlock at the rear. His eyes said it all.
I was pretty wound up by then as you may well imagine, and as it was
only ten PM on the coast I called Nancy, and we discussed the entire thing
for an hour or so. She reassured me I was doing the right thing, and that I
should take a sleeping pill to get a good nights rest. I did, it would be a
busy day tomorrow.
Waking about eleven to the sound of the doorbell I answered in my
nighty, as expected it was Mike with his surgical bag. We hadn't been
together for several days so when we reached the bedroom I took his
clothes off in full view of Bridget to be. Well, we had to change to greens
anyhow. I gave Mike a great blowjob from my knees (something I had
steadfastly refused to do for Roger.) Mike likes to start that way half the
time, the other times he returns the favor. I told you he is a treasure.
Then Mike looked over all the forms and walked over to my girl to be
saying he had a full day of surgery ahead of him. Mike winced as he
examined the testicle restraint saying, "He will be glad to loose those if
you keep this on him."
We both started to don greens, and Mike looked at me saying, "Ah hell,"
and threw me on the bed and fucked my eyes out. After that we were both
pretty loose and ready to begin on my girl to be.
I wheeled in a rented high gurney from its hiding place in the second floor
guestroom. We moved him onto the gurney, secured the restraints, and
prepared for several simple procedures, most of which didn't require a
surgeon of Mike's skill. However I think you can see I really value my
girl to be. While Mike scrubbed in the hall bathroom, I gave a really
terrified but unresisting girl to be a healthy shot of chlorpromazine. Not
surprisingly she went out like a light, and I removed her gag.
I will describe what was done in non-medical terminology, should any of
you girls out there be interested, I can provide precise details.
First, the most complicated procedure was to surgically partially sever the
muscle at the base of the penis. In Roger's case, over time it stretched a
good inch in length when hard, but more importantly the weakened
muscles would let it hang straight down. It would still be a puny thin little
thing, but perhaps just right for anal stimulation I mused. Mike agreed it
definitely would be the right tool for that job.
Then my girl to be had her foreskin removed except for a flap on its
underside, and it had a half-inch gold ring inserted and clamped
permanently closed (short of cutting it off.) It must have hurt going
through the sensitive nerves in the new clitoris as my girl to be moaned
even under sedation. But it was firmly attached well into the meat of her
clitoris, as it needed to be to stand strain it might experience.
Then a series of eight little rings were attached on either side of my girl to
be's balls, the intention here was to secure my girl to be's ovaries into her
body cavity as one would lace shoes. I had toyed with removing the ugly
hairy things entirely, and had his signed release to do so, but I thought it
would be fun to have her make that her choice as her true nature evolved.
Then another half-inch secure ring was attached under her ovaries between
her legs with the intention of fastening my girl to be's clitoris to it just
about all the time. This would allow her to sit naturally and pee without
using her hands, just a dainty wipe as usual and nature would be satisfied.
Nancy assured me it would also curb her tendency to play with herself.
Then at Nancy's suggestion, Mike attached another half-inch gold ring
permanently and securely to my girl to be's belly button. Nancy thought it
would be fun to attach my girl to be's clit to this ring when she wore hip-
huggers and a short blouse. You know when I want to let everyone know
all about my Bridget.
Finally, my girl to be had her ears pierced in three places on each ear. One
earring on each ear said Catherine's in small letters around the top and
sides of the ear, and the other hole on each ear was filled with
conventional topaz studs. I thought they would bring out her eye color.
My girl to be had a catheter inserted which drained urine into a bag and we
lifted her hips and placed a pad in case of an accident. We intended to
sedate her at least for the rest of the weekend so significant pain wouldn't
be her first memory as Bridget.
Last, I gave her a healthy injection of hormones to begin her
transformation, started a dextrose saline drip, with added codeine and
phenobarbital to keep her happily sedated. Finally, I strapped her securely
down.
I had to remove the bottom of my greens as my girl to be spritzed me with
pee while Mike was fiddling with her; it didn't distract Mike much while
he operated, but when my girl to be was done Mike smiled and said,
"Let's grab a quickie." I must confess that the absolutely best thing about
Mike's quickies is they seldom last less than a half-hour.
Week 1
As it turned out my girl to be didn't fully wake until Tuesday evening as I
was coming home from my shift. By this time all her tissue was healing
nicely, but I replaced the loose dressings and antibiotic ointment on all
sites just to be on the safe side. She was groggy, but awake when I
removed the catheter and cleaned her bottom saying this was the last time I
was doing that for her. I put her ankle restraints on telling her I would
spare her the testicle and wrist restraints, if she were a good little my girl
to be.
Then I released her restraints to the gurney. Poor thing was so weak I
really needn't have worried. I had her put on an ugly long line bra from
the fifties, Nancy said it was a genuine antique, regardless I put heavy
silicon sacks to pad out her 'C' cups.
Then I explained she was still a fat pig and had to wear a fat ladies dress
and stockings until she thinned down, but not to feel too bad, as that
won't take too long. She put on a cheep-cotton slip and black 'old peasant
lady's' dress. You know the kind that buttons down the front, with thick
support stockings tied at the knee to stay up. Then I had her wear lace up
black medium heels to match her dress and reapplied the ankle restraints.
She was slouching worse than usual and I warned her to stand straight or
the testicle restraint was going back on. She did.
You have to understand I am not a cruel person at heart, my profession is
helping people, and I'm very good at it, what I was doing here was sexual
tough love.
We went downstairs and over a three ounces (dry) of vitamin enriched
oatmeal I explained to my girl to be our new relationship. I told her until I
explicitly said otherwise, she should address me respectfully as Catherine
dear or dearest, dear or dearest Catherine with her eyes directed at my feet,
I wouldn't respond positively to anything else. And would get very cross
with her if she persists in exhibiting disrespectful behavior.
Second, she was on an exercise regime complimented by a crash 900
calorie (to start with) per day diet. She was responsible for washing our
clothes each night and would sleep on the floor in another identical slip.
Except for when she was in the shower, she would wear one of her two
long line bras.
She looked directly at me and asked, "Cathy, what the hell were you
doing with Mike?" I took a rod from the table and told her to put out her
hands and hold them still. Then I gave her knuckles several sharp raps,
waiting each time for her to hold her hands steady. I said mildly "How
should you address me?"
The cheeky Bridget still didn't do it right. I mildly said "Finish your
oatmeal, and lets go upstairs."
You have to understand Bridget used to hate oatmeal, but it was the first
solid food for five days, and she did finish it along with a thirty two ounce
glass of water. She would be drinking a lot of water over the next few
weeks, at least two gallons a day.
You might wonder why Bridget didn't just overpower me; after all I am
five foot five and all of 110 pounds. At this point Bridget was a good 220
pounds and quite strong. Well even a totally healthy Roger learned I'm
fast as hell, bite, usually go for the balls - and know all the pressure
points.
When we got upstairs I had Bridget stand in front of my full-length mirror
and tell me what she saw - in detail. Then I told her to raise her dress and
pull down her cheap cotton panties and tell me what she saw. I confess I
took small pleasure in the look of panic in her eyes. I told her, "I like
your little clit much better this way, it will be much easier to clean now, I
don't like cocks with a foreskin. In case you're interested that was why I
would never give you a blowjob, and as you could see I love giving
blowjobs to a real man." She winced when she touched the ring on her
clitoris, and I assured her that when the time came she would learn its
purpose.
While she was standing with her panties down I snapped and clipped on
the testicle restraint, "There, you know what you have to do, and what
will happen if you make me cross."
I asked her to bring her gag to me and to ask me if I would please put it on
for her. I saw a flash of defiance, but she brought it to me and in a
sarcastic tone of voice asked that I put it on for her. I smiled and told her
that she had clearly graduated from that puny half inch diameter cock
insert, and went to my bottom draw and selected a gag with a one inch
diameter two inch long cock attached to the ball. Bridget turned pale when
I asked if she would prefer the one next to it - a inch and a half diameter
five inch long cock and balls with an elastic head strap.
Bridget asked me very nicely, and handed me the one-inch model. I had
Bridget pee and brush her teeth, and then I said I had a special treat for
her. I lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties and played with myself
using the little cock, getting it and the cute red ball soaked with my love
juices. Then I put the gag on my Bridget noting her dress was sticking
out. I told Bridget I would severely discipline her if she played with her
clitoris, and that I would know. Just to be on the safe side I put the belt
with the wrist restraints on her and secured her dog collar to the sink
leaving enough room so she could pee. The ring in he cock wasn't ready
for any strain yet, so that might be messy. Well she was going to clean
the bathroom anyway.
Before I left I told Bridget to imagine it was Mike's cock in her mouth all
night, after his giving me the fuck of my life. Just to emphasize her
helplessness I ended with, "And you better not pee on the floor during the
night."
I confess to being a little excited about how well things were working out,
and put my self to sleep with my butterfly vibrator humming away. What
I really needed though was Mike's beautiful cock.
Week 3
I was very good to Bridget, and gave her rings and things fourteen days to
fully heal, then I had her lay down on the guest room bed, which had a
warm pastel (a color that matched the decor I noted with satisfaction,)
shower curtain laid out on it. I propped Bridget up comfortably on several
pillows and with the aid a hand mirror I explained to her the purpose of all
the rings. I told her I would do it for her once, and if she didn't do it
properly herself the next time that I would be cross with her.
She was catching on it didn't pay to have me cross with her. First, I
applied Nair to her hairy ovaries and left her while it worked its magic.
After rinsing and drying the now presentable ovaries thoroughly, I tucked
them up where they belonged, out of sight. Then I placed a piece of
cotton over the opening and using a thin cotton shoelace and little gold
rings I neatly tied them inside. Just like lacing shoes. Then I took a
darling little gold padlock and locked her clitoris to the ring between her
legs below where her ovaries were. I had to stretch it a little but it was
just right, considering Mike said it would stretch more over the next few
weeks.
I told her to be sure to thank Mike the next time she saw him. She looked
very pale and I told her to rest for a few minutes before she took a pee
with her new plumbing, and to be sure to call me to watch. It worked so
well I couldn't resist giving Bridget a great big hug.
Now that Bridget was fully healed, it was time to begin her exercise
program. I won't give details here, but the exercises were designed to
flatten her slowly shrinking tummy, shape her pitiful butt, and increase
her flexibility. Eventually she was vigorously exercising two hours a day.
We also added walking and squatting in heels for several hours each day
while balancing two books on her head. Initially she complained once that
her ovary hurt when she squatted, but when I tightened the laces and had
her try it some more, she didn't complain again.
I had her brush her almost shoulders length mouse brown hair two
hundred strokes each day. She pulled it back in a high ponytail as I
sometimes wore mine, without even being told - I was so pleased I gave
her a jeweled barrette to hold it. I also started her training to stand still and
not to fidget.
I spent two days looking into our finances; it was then that I found out just
how much of an asshole Roger had become.
Since our marriage our arrangement had been, all my salary was mine to
spend on myself, being prudent I saved what I would have spent on rent
each month and had a nice little portfolio. In addition I had an American
Express and Visa cards that he paid monthly.
It was my understanding his salary at the Computer Company was barely
more then it had been when we were married, but he paid all our
household expenses out of it. Since Roger wouldn't be working, I called
and talked to his boss, Meg Holling, and told her he would be out for an
extended period with a kidney problem. She told me he had quit months
ago, but would have been fired for his drinking in any event. However if
he ever quit drinking they would consider taking him back, and hung up.
I became a little concerned about a roof over our heads, and then I looked
deeper.
Our house was worth at least a half million and it had been a wedding gift
from his mother so there was no mortgage. I was surprised to find that
the house was actually an asset of a trust fund, which also paid all other
costs of ownership like maintenance of the house and grounds, utilities,
insurance, and taxes. It also paid our club memberships and charges as
they were family memberships, and all associated taxes.
Ok, we will have a roof over our head. Looking at his banking statements
I saw a deposit of ten thousand was made the first of each month, looking
deeper I found that was from another trust fund, humm, mommy dearest
didn't trust Roger with lump sums. I didn't even know this source of
income existed.
Up until two months ago there were bimonthly deposits of three thousand
two hundred, that was exactly what he told me his salary was. I could
find no savings account or portfolio.
What the hell was he doing with all that money? Where was he going the
past two months when I thought he was at work? Does the worm have a
mistress? That wouldn't be bad, my lawyer made sure the prenuptial was
void if he kept a mistress.
I found a key and remembered he went to the basement frequently. To
make a long story short, dummy had a monster gambling problem. The
only good thing was his bookie and card room didn't extend him credit,
they weren't greedy, they settled for a steady twelve to fifteen thousand a
month from the jerk. Jesus, how stupid is he?
I called the bookie and card room and told them Roger was real sick, and
made sure he didn't owe them anything. He didn't, in fact the bookie
owed him a few thousand as a horse hit, he would mail it to me. Now,
they really were sincerely sorry to hear that he was sick.
All I told Bridget, was that all our finances were being taken care of, and
for her not to worry her pretty little head about them.
Week 4
Bridget had been taking oral hormones daily, but her blood work indicated
she could stand a weekly injection in addition. She had lost close to
twenty-five pounds, and could now fit into the largest hourglass-laced
corset Nancy had sent to me. I don't think Bridget was as happy as I
was, but with Mike's help Bridget was securely laced in. Nancy
recommended that initially Bridget should wear the corset for seventy-two
hours straight, tightening it once or twice a day as needed.
Bridget had to agree that her figure and posture had improved dramatically
with it. I decided to give her a treat. I unlocked the little gold padlock and
for the first time in over a week, her cute little gold ringed clitoris was free
and rising. I had her go to my draw and get a rubber and my discipline
rod.
Mike and I were curious as to how things would work with the ovaries
inside, but all went well. I let Bridget come almost to organism five times
before I slapped the little thing with my rod, very hard. Then I tired of the
game and let her milk it. She must have been ready as she filled up the
rubber's tip and much more. That night I tucked Bridget in on the floor
by the foot of my bed wearing her new corset, with the one inch ball gag
soaked with Mike's and my juices - and since she begged so nicely (after
prompting) the contents of her rubber.
Bridget made a strange request; she asked that her sperm be frozen, just in
case there was an accident. I couldn't imagine why she would want to
propagate such a weak bloodline, so I said it wasn't necessary.
I won't mention the despicable deed she did for fear it might give other
sissies ideas, but it was the very next day after we were so kind to her.
Suffice to say I was very cross with her.
I wanted the punishment to carry no residual sexual pleasure, like the ball
gags did for instance. With her hands manacled to her belt I had her lay
on the kitchen floor and clamped her legs between two chairs, sandwiched
between the two seats. Kind of a modified bastinado treatment, well it
kept the Roman army in line. Then I smacked the bottoms of her feet with
my punishment rod, it was very tedious for me, but I gave her a full
quarter-hour of good sharp strokes on the soles of both feet. Let me tell
you she was in tears and I had to gag her with a dishcloth shortly after I
started, I didn't feel like walking upstairs for a ball gag. I never had to do
that again, thank god.
Week 5
Bridget's breasts started to bud and became very tender. I wanted her to
learn to associate her breasts with pleasure, so Mike and I teamed up to
help her learn. Mike would stand behind her, and using hormone cream
play with her breasts while I would tease her tethered clitoris. Judging by
her squirming and moans, it must have been exquisite, every second or
third day we would unbind her clitoris and let her milk it - she was
supposed to cum only after I told her it was ok. She wasn't perfect yet,
but she was beginning to understand she must wait for my command to
make milk.
I introduced her to caring for my feet on a daily basis. I am not one of
those nurses who wears pants most of the time, I like the freedom to show
a little if I feel like it. How do you think I got Mike? I also wear lace top
stockings and a garter belt most of the time rather than pantyhose. In my
opinion, Bridget's job is to make me feel better, not to learn a foot fetish
by licking my feet or sucking on my toes.
If Mike isn't with me I sit down in an easy chair and Bridget lovingly
removes my stockings, woe to her should a run develop. Then she brings
a container of warm soapy water and I soak my feet for ten minutes or so
while she cleans my shoes and applies white to them as necessary. Then
she washes my feet and legs and gives me a fine massage on my calves
and feet. Then she fetches clean water and rinses all the soap off and
spends ten minutes rubbing lotion in. Depending on my mood she may
put on fresh stockings and heels and dresses me to go out, or slippers and
robe. If Mike is with me she performs the service for him as well.
Week 6
Bridget asked if she was thin enough to wear a pretty dress. She had her
eyes downcast and blushed as she asked. I melted, but still I pretended to
measure her with my eye. Then I said I might have something for her, but
she had to be very careful with it and not to mess it.
I had Bridget remove her black nightmare, as I thought of it, and the
dowdy slip and stockings. I removed the now relatively loose corset and
was pleased at how trim her waist was becoming. She said she was used
to the corset now and that it made her feel secure. Then I removed a large
box from the corner of the room and opened it. First I laced Bridget up in
a new, smaller corset, still boned but with artful built in silicon breast
padding. The effect was magical.
Then I showed her how to step into her petticoats and finally the dress,
which was an 1890's style hobble skirt with a still much-needed bustle. It
really was very flattering on her; the color was rust rose with barely
perceptible vertical stripes pressed into the satin of the skirt. The bodice
was Irish lace over satin and there was a matching apron; it must have cost
Nancy a fortune. I had Bridget sit while I pulled on her stockings and
laced up her high-buttoned three inch heel shoes. It was just like playing
dress up as a child. Well, what can I say; I was truly captured by the
moment.
Mike came by and I let Bridget suck his cock a bit before he fucked me
silly. As a reward I let her lick us clean, which she did very carefully
without messing her lovely dress.
Week 7
Bridget was cooking for us, of course she was still restricted to vitamin
enriched oatmeal, with plain salads added every other day or so for
roughage. She looked very sharp serving us in her fine satin dress and
apron.
I'm sorry to report that I noticed her sampling more than a little food as
she cooked and I was perhaps unduly harsh. For the rest of the week she
was required to wear the two-inch ball gag whenever she was downstairs.
At night she was allowed the one-inch model again but with hand
restraints. She was responsible to don these devices herself, as
instructed, and was most conscientious.
Mike said she was really getting the hang of cock sucking. I was dying to
set her loose on my clitoris, but I had some more things to do first.
I noticed the first signs of cramping and knew my friend was coming. I
really felt sorry for Bridget when I told her that her first period was
coming, and that she had to take off her fine dress for a few days. I
explained that her first period was likely to be messy, but after a while she
would learn to manage, I assured her we all do. I instructed her that her
Bridget cunt is very special, in that it had to do double duty.
I especially impressed upon her what ever goes in her Bridget cunt must
be disinfected or disposed of when removed. Roger always wanted me to
play with his rear, but I wouldn't. Now I would more than make up to
her for my earlier refusal. I explained to her that I would prepare her with
a little douche and that for the first night or so use a special plug in place
of the normal tampon and pad. To impress upon her the need for
sanitation, I wore surgical rubber gloves when fiddling with her rear hole.
Still in her lovely corset and high button shoes I had Bridget kneel on the
bathroom floor and put her head on the floor. Then I gave her a warm
enema with barium and plugged her Bridget cunt with an inflatable butt
plug.
I think it was the first time the poor dear was plugged. At least I never
found any plugs in Roger's secret stash. I told her she could get up now
and showed her how to place the pad and secure it with a firm panty girdle
against little leaks. When we went into the bedroom I gave her a lovely
silk nighty to wear. I explained it always made me feel so feminine when
the curse struck, and if she liked we could suffer together tonight in the
bed. It was mean of me to give her two quarts with the barium in it, after
a while it does begin to cramp and create the need to pee. But I had
cramps and needed to pee frequently too, and she was my Bridget.
She did suffer, but she snuggled up to me moaning at times, and I went to
sleep lulled by her warmth. It was a bit of a mess in the morning and I
made a note to give a cleansing enema first next time. Bridget was very
embarrassed, and after I inserted a tampon in each of us, she put on
rubber gloves, cleaned up and disinfected without being asked.
Week 10
Bridget was wearing the smallest laced corset Nancy had sent and a new
dress sized to match. After our period was over I introduced her to
normal butt plugs, and I made her understand they would be worn
whenever she didn't have her period until I said not to. After a few days
she had some trouble keeping a plug in all the time, so she graduated to a
larger one, and it was ok. I had her always place two rubbers on the plug
prior to insertion to make clean up a snap.
I noticed her nipples were growing and she reported they were very
tender. To help her Mike or I still gave her breast treatments; I
remembered how nice it was when my mother did that for me during my
puberty. Over fifty percent of the time now she was able to wait for my
command to cum. Sometimes after a half-hour of stroking her little
clitoris. We added smacking her bottom just as she was beginning to
cum, and she seemed to like that.
She was very pleased with herself and I noticed her eyeing my makeup
and nail polish. But she wasn't ready for that yet. I watched her carefully
but didn't see her swiping our food so she was not gagged during the day
or most nights now. Two positive signs showed she was adapting well
now. First, after I gave her permission and she was administering enemas
to herself, she said it made the butt plug much more enjoyable. Second,
on some nights she would bring me a gag and ask if she might wear it that
night, sometimes I let her.
Week 12
Bridget was down to 166 pounds and almost ready for contemporary
garb. Her breasts were noticeably forming now, but still very tender and I
had her rub lotion into them for a half-hour every morning and night. I
decided to give her another week or so in the 1890's, and we added more
and harder slaps with ping-pong paddles to her rear as she made milk.
Mike tried it with me and I with him, and we decided we liked it too, on
Saturday we allowed Bridget to smack our bottoms for us as we came.
Not for every day, but a nice variation.
Mike noticed Bridget was developing a very nice walk, he observed her
butt moved just like a real girl. Bridget beamed all day from the
compliment and walked past him at every opportunity. I gave her an extra
shot of hormones as her blood work indicated it was possible, they were
very noticeably working. Her cooking was improving and I could tell she
was really trying. Her days were very busy, between exercise, cleaning,
walking, cooking, foot care, and following my whims. Well, soon she
would be a girl of the 1990s and would have to take on more.
A very strange set of circumstances occurred. Mike was performing a
routine removal of a portion of a cancer patients intestines, he had no
sooner opened the patient and began uncoiling the intestines when the
anaesthesiologist indicated a problem. It doesn't happen often, but it does
happen, the patient was paralyzed as expected, but could feel everything.
That was clear from the terror and pain in her eyes. The anaesthesiologist
tried everything, but the patient remained alert and feeling. There was
really nothing Mike could do but continue, remove the section and close
up. When we returned home, I tried to tell Mike there was nothing he did
wrong, but he felt the woman's pain, and the look in her eyes almost
devastated him. I guess my training as a nurse hardened me to patients
suffering, it was often the price of health, but Mike seldom experienced
protracted exposure to extreme pain that he was directly inflicting.
I tried to divert Mike with sex, but he wasn't interested, so without saying
anything, but in a bit of a snit I went to bed about nine. Bridget was in the
bathroom, and I intended to wait for her to rub my feet until I went to
sleep, but I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. About four I
woke and sensed I was alone, I had to pee anyhow so I got up and
hearing soft voices I found Bridget and Mike in an earnest discussion. I
could only catch a word or two, but apparently they were discussing the
operation, it was a closed subject in my mind, so I went back to sleep.
I woke about eight and Mike was in bed with me, sound asleep and
Bridget was sleeping on the floor as usual. I was wide awake but dressed
without disturbing them, about eleven Mike joined me in the kitchen and
more than made up for last night's lack of interest. Afterwards Mike said
he never realized what a warm and sensitive person Bridget really was,
'Bridget? You got to be kidding' my mind observed through the post
orgasm fog. I was going to quiz her about their discussion, but somehow
it kept slipping my mind.
Week 15
I took Bridget outside the grounds for the first time. She was still in the
1890's and drew some appreciative stares, until people in the mall noticed
her five o'clock shadow. I told her to stand up straight with her head up
and ignore them. She was my Bridget and I was the only one whose
opinion counted. I'm sure she was cringing inside, but she put up a brave
front.
From the mall we were headed to a clinic that specialized in laser hair
removal, I expected it would be the first of many Monday afternoon visits.
The technician first shaved her whole body with an electric barber shear
and then with a special electric razor set to leave a bit of stubble. Then she
went into another room and Mary Ryan, the doctor, did the laser treatment
lightly all over. Mary was fascinated when we let Bridget's ovaries drop
for treatment; she thought the little rings were a marvelous idea. Bridget
looked like a lobster, and I'm sure the corset was unpleasant when I
helped her dress, however she didn't complain.
Toward the end of the week my period started again and I applied the
lessons learned. Bridget was thoroughly cleaned out and the barium
solution prepared with red dye this time, applied and securely plugged.
Again Bridget was allowed to sleep in bed cuddling with me, not on the
floor, and in a fine nightie to boot. I added more barium this time, Bridget
was very uncomfortable I'm sure, but then so was I. We made it through
the night together and felt very close in the morning. She was very proud
when the toilet turned red with her period, right after it did the same for
me.
I didn't tell her, but I was really looking forward to sleeping with her
nightly. I do like a warm body next to me.
Week 16
On Wednesday we both undressed completely, we had a heart to heart talk
in front of the mirror. Her figure was shaping up nicely but there were
many places where a tuck or two was called for, also it was time to
consider breast implants. And her nose might have looked fine on a
roman statue, but it certainly did not bear any family resemblance to my
naturally pert profile. We talked about removing her gonads, I pointed out
they were useless now and made her hormone therapy tricky, but I could
see that she wasn't ready for that yet. At the end of our talk we agreed to
have the other offending areas rectified - tomorrow. Mike had made the
appointment with a colleague of his weeks ago.
It really was a lot for one day, but we had assured the surgeon I was a
nurse, and I would give her professional care - when we brought her
home from his clinic on Saturday. The poor dear was sore all over for
over two weeks, but I didn't rush her, and by the following Saturday we
couldn't drag her from the mirror. I had to however, as she had to wear a
support bra for the next ten days, least her implants dislodge. At the end
of two weeks her 'C' breasts and pert nose came out perfectly, I was very
proud of her. She continued exercising abet less vigorously while she
recovered and we discussed her next phase of training. I took advantage
of her recovery to concentrate on walking, standing still, and not
fidgeting.
Week 18
I told Bridget she was ready to have her hair, face, and nails done. I
pointed out it was a big responsibility she was taking on, and that I would
understand if she wished to put it off for a while. No way I was assured,
she would make every effort and she really wanted to look like me. I was
touched; this was working out so well.
I wore my blond hair beyond shoulder length and it fell in waves, quite
sexy actually. At work I put it up on top of my head in a bun or I wore a
high ponytail. I told her I would have her hair done, and see how well
she did with that before makeup and nails. Still in the 1890's we left for
the salon and returned with a blond copy of myself. She was the talk of
the salon, how often does one see a Bridget from the 1890's after all.
She looked so much like a girl, I had to show her Bridget clitoris to
several of the girls, and they thought it was cute too. Bridget let me do it
with little more than a blush, and I believe she was very proud of herself.
Now we really couldn't get her away from the mirror.
Ok, call me softy, I let her have a manicure too. I had her watch as the
girl give me a pedicure and we purchased the necessities for her to take
over giving me frequent manicures and pedicures. She was walking in
heels so well I stopped that exercise to make time for her new duties.
Week 19
Early in the eighteenth week the friend came again, and Bridget had
everything ready in the bathroom as she noticed me grimace at dinner with
the start of cramps. I increased the barium this time and we really suffered
together, it was such a bonding experience.
I found I enjoyed doing her nails, and chatting - I believe that was the start
of a new loving relationship between us.
I decided to begin her pussy loving training later on in the week when my
flow lightened. I remembered how Billy did it, and decided to start right
off building endurance; based on Roger's non-performance I was half
way expecting some resistance. But no, Bridget took to the task like she
was born to it, and almost before I realized I had a good organism. She
backed off a little while I recovered, but was soon out performing Billy,
and he didn't have a cute little blond ponytail bobbing up and down. Our
first session lasted over an hour and at the end I was really clamping down
on poor Bridget's head. I couldn't move for twenty minutes, it was that
intense.
When we were finished Bridget looked down blushing, and said she
much preferred that to cock sucking. I hugged her and said, "So do I
baby, so do I!"
Week 20
On Monday, Bridget had her last laser treatment for a while; she was
smooth and hairless all over. I decided I would like to see well made up
eyes looking at me while my pussy was being adored.
She was caring for our hair now and was very good at it. It was time to
dress Bridget in contemporary garb, and have her wear make up like the
big Bridget she now was. She was still five eight of course but, but she
was down to one hundred and thirty eight pounds when I decided to take
her shopping. Before we went out I experimented and found a thong and
a light days pad completely masked her thin clitoris. I had her wear the
bra she wore after the implants, which was quite large on her now. To
cover her she wore one of my old housedress and sandals. She was not
very attractive.
We left the house about nine, and the first stop was the foundation
specialty shop. Bridget was a full 34C now and we bought several bras,
panty girdles, panties, cinches, slips, a modern "Merry Widow" style
corset for fun nights, you know everything a modern girl needs. The
ladies were fascinated with Bridget's clitoris, and several had to touch it to
make sure it was real. Bridget wore a modern strapless merry widow
corset, and lace toped stocking when we left the store.
In the mall proper, we purchased several outfits and I had Bridget wear a
strapless black sheath with a skirt length that just covered her stocking
tops. Very hot, her much-improved butt looked great!
Then we went into Macy's for a makeover. I must confess I enjoyed
Bridget's discomfort trying to keep her skirt decent on the high make up
stool, so I didn't add to it by telling the sales lady Bridget's true gender.
We collected kits for day, evening, and whore. We left with Bridget
wearing whore or slut if you prefer. Then we purchased several pair of
heels and she left wearing three inch black pumps.
On the way home, just for the hell of it I sent her into a gay bar to buy a
pack of cigarettes (neither of us smoked) and to drink a glass of milk. She
was to be sure to tell the bartender she was a transvestite when she
ordered the milk. I waited outside and she came out ten minutes later, red
faced, and got into the car without speaking. Of course I made her tell me
all about it, and we both ended up having a good laugh.
Mike stopped by our house on the way home and asked my new friend to
blow him. While she was doing it, he casually asked me if we were ready
to try out Bridget's clitoris on a little anal excursion. I asked myself, why
not? When Bridget was finished, Mike was beeped and had to leave, but I
was still hot from watching Bridget blow him, she was getting so good at
it.
Still dressed I had Bridget go to the bathroom and get some of the special
rubber bands, rubbers, and lubricant. Looking at Bridget I was feeling
like a slut myself. When she returned I released her clitoris and helped her
make it stiff. Then I had her put on two rubbers and a tight rubber band to
insure they didn't slip off her puny thing. I pulled down my panties,
jacked up my skirt, and leaned over the dining room table. I told Bridget
to bugger me nicely, but if she came, I would be very, very harsh with
her.
With liberal lubricant, Bridget played with my rosebud with her clitoris
while I played with my breasts and watched her in the mirror. Soon I
requested penetration and then vigorous play. It really was the right tool
for the job; all I needed was Mike filing my other hole. I told Bridget to
stop; it was time to eat. She dutifully withdrew and wiped my butt clean.
I had her wash her clitoris, discard the rubbers, and lock back up. I sat in
an easy chair and with both of us still dressed Bridget had dinner for an
hour or so. She really is extraordinary talented and I lost count of my
organisms.
That night, before I tucked Bridget in on the floor she told me how
grateful she was to be my big Bridget now. I gave her a little kiss and told
her she was the best sister ever.
Week 21
During the week, Bridget and I went everywhere together. Mike
suggested I bring her to the hospital; he had several friends who would
like to see her. Well, she wasn't exactly a secret. Several of the guys
asked me if she could blow them and she set up shop in the old staff
lounge. Then Peter, Mike's best friend, wanted to bugger her, I couldn't
refuse providing he wore rubbers and used adequate lubrication. Mike
and I watched very carefully, it was her first time, and after a while
Bridget seemed to take it very well, she probably thought it gave her
mouth a rest. After all the blowjobs she has given, I would have.
My very good friend Sandra walked in unexpectedly, and asked if Bridget
gave good head to ladies. Well I was most proud of that, and I couldn't
refuse providing we could watch. Bridget made Sandra a very happy
woman. Then she made me a very happy woman and then blew Mike, the
poor dear was exhausted, so I suggested she freshen up, and we left for
home.
On the way we stopped for dinner and Mike asked me if it would be ok
for Bridget to eat with us, I relented, it was really about time, and Bridget
had her first real meal in almost five months.
Upon returning home Nancy called and asked if we could visit her in San
Francisco for a week or so in a few weeks over Christmas. I called and
accepted - the timing was perfect, Mike was going to Aspen with his
family, and I had ten days off for accumulated extra shifts.
That same evening Bridget asked if she could speak frankly. She looked
very serious, and I couldn't imagine what was wrong.
"Of course Bridget, what is troubling you?"
"Catherine, you know I would never say anything in front of your
friends, but I will never have sex with anyone other than you or Mike
again. If another is to be brought into our family it must be with my prior
knowledge and consent. I don't believe our long term relationship can
survive such depravities, I certainly can't."
I was floored; I didn't know what to say. She just stood there looking at
me with her big eyes, after awhile she undressed and prepared for bed.
She curled up on the floor and went to sleep. I went to bed but couldn't
sleep, she was right and I knew it, I don't know what I was thinking.
Reviewing the day I realized Mike had realized what a ghastly thing we
were doing and attempted to make amends to Bridget. Bridget was right,
never again. Once I made up my mind I went wake Bridget, but she was
awake waiting for me.
"Bridget honey, your right that was a monstrous thing to do. I promise
nothing like that will ever happen again, please come to bed with me
now."
We hugged, cuddled, and fell peacefully asleep like two spoons.
Week 22
During the week I took stock of Bridget's talents, I decided she had
cleaned up her act and was more than suited to my needs - and just as
important I was to her needs. I wouldn't be ashamed to bring her to visit
Nancy as my best friend.
We finally got around to trying anal stimulation while Mike and I fucked.
It worked best for me when I sat on Mike wonderful tool and leaned
forward, exposing my rosebud to Bridget's clitoris. I managed two
delightful organisms and Mike one. Bridget was good and there was no
milk in her rubbers, just a little pre-cum. She cleaned up and put fresh
rubbers on for Mike's turn.
Mike was nervous, as he hadn't tried anal penetration before, but I
assured him Bridget wouldn't hurt him. This time we let Bridget enter
Mike very gradually with Mike on his knees on the floor, I was under him
and his face was in my pussy while I was jerking and licking him off.
Mike had a powerful organism and I was covered with cum. Bridget was
good and began cleaning everyone up.
Mike wanted to give Bridget a break and help her milk herself. However,
her little bottom was really red by the time she filled her rubber. Our
hands were stinging and I made a note to buy a nice little paddle or whip
for her when we got to San Francisco in a few weeks. On the plus side,
now we didn't have to worry about her milking herself without us
paddling away and tweaking her breasts. Her padlock was replaced by a
little clasp and she could free her clit at will.
All week she slept with me in bed, we wore beautiful nightgowns,
cuddled, and I truly believe that she is very happy with her new life. I
was very glad to have her with me, I just hoped she appreciated my
sacrifice in the past weeks.
The Fruits of Love
Motherhood is the strangest thing, it can be like being one's own Trojan
horse. Rebecca West (1892-1983)
Thanksgiving fell during the twenty-third week, I decided we would have
a traditional dinner, with Bridget cooking of course. Let me tell you she
was psyched.
Last week I made two other decisions in the spirit of the holidays:
First, I would begin calling her Bridget from now on; sissy would be an
adjective, not a proper noun in our house again.
Second, she would go off her diet of enriched oatmeal and salad, and
begin eating real food again; she was made to understand that if she gained
any significant weight she was back on her diet.
We were just about to sit down for diner when I almost had a heart attack,
what I kind of dreaded happened. Gloria Feebold-Miles, Bridget's mom
arrived to have Thanksgiving dinner with us - without any notice
whatsoever.
Bridget answered the door wearing a stylish short cocktail dress we
shopped for together last Saturday; she was so much fun to shop with
now. She was wearing a lovely white apron over her LBD, it was just
darling with a spray of red and yellow roses on its front; she was cooking
dinner after all.
Fortunately, I was lighting the candles on the table so I looked busy; I
could see Gloria from the dining room and walked out to great her.
Gloria's black sable coat was gorgeous, and much to my dismay she
looked in fine health, I didn't know then what the next few weeks would
bring. Bridget was speechless during the few seconds it took for me to
walk to the door - however; she had the presence of mind to close the door
and her mouth after a second or so. Let me tell you dear reader, my mind
was racing as fast as my heart.
"Hello Gloria, what a pleasant surprise. I'd like you to meet my sister
Bridget."
They smiled at each other and hugged, kissing without making contact as I
had taught her. While I was faux kissing Gloria, Bridget was mouthing a
silent thank you.
"Why I didn't know you had a sister dear, I don't remember meeting her
at your wedding." I think that was the last time we had seen her, after
four and a half years, and she picks now to visit her dear son, touching I
thought.
"With all the excitement that day you may have forgotten her, besides she
had light brown hair then. Please, don't stand at the door, do come in and
have a old-fashioned." If I remembered correctly, they were her favorite
before-dinner drink, she'd need a few before this day ended, and I on the
other hand, had better keep a clear head.
Gloria replied, "Thank you dear, it's freezing out there."
Bridget said, "I will make a drink for you Gloria, your regular Catherine?"
"Yes please, you're a dear." I replied.
We walked a few feet into the living room; I steered Gloria to one of four
Princess Anne armchairs arranged in an intimate cluster about a small oval
period table. It was very cozy with the gas fireplace burning brightly.
"I'm sorry to come with no notice, but I was in the area and asked Charles
to drive me here. It has been ages and I wanted to surprise Roger." She
didn't look sorry, and she sure as hell surprised Roger. 'It's a good thing
Bridget had an enema and is plugged today, or she might have shit in her
panties.' I reflected.
"No problem whatsoever, you must stay for dinner of course. Charles
must join us too, after all it is Thanksgiving, and we have more than
enough." I offered.
"Thank you, we will, but tell me, where's my little boy Roger? I'll bet he
is watching a football game on TV."
"You should have phoned ahead, he and some friends flew to some
remote football game, Pittsburgh I think, and I don't expect him home
until nine or ten. You should have called me, I would have insisted he be
here for dinner." I was glad she remembered he liked football, a perfect
reason for his absence; they do play football on Thanksgiving, don't they?
Oh well, she seemed to think they do.
My evolving plan was not to hide Roger's transformation, but rather to
allow Gloria to see how perfect it was at dinner before I unmasked him. I
figured the down side was she would storm out and threaten me with
lawyers. Mikes brother was a lawyer, and he had assured me that the
signed releases and videotape would vindicate me in a court of law. I
hadn't begun to think of upside yet, I was still thinking damage control.
We talked about the weather and Florida until Bridget returned with the
drinks. She was the perfect hostess, bringing Gloria's Scotch Old
Fashioned, a pitcher of refills, she said, "Mrs. Feebold-Miles I hope you
enjoy these with muddled fruit."
"You are a treasure, my very favorite way," she tasted, "Ah nectar of the
gods. Catherine these are perfect, even heavy on the sugar and bitters.
Darling Bridget please call me Gloria, there must be no formality between
us."
"Thank you Gloria, I'm so pleased you enjoy." She handed me a diet
Coke and kept one herself. Then she served the shrimp that was destined
as our first course as an hors d'oeuvre on Carr's Water Crackers, with a
smidgen of cocktail sauce and fresh horseradish on top. Gloria finished
her first and Bridget refilled her glass, Bridget obviously knew mother's
tastes.
I wanted to let her get used to he mother's presence gradually. "Bridget
dear, would you please fetch Charles from the limo, he will be eating with
us, perhaps you could set two more places." I requested.
Before she could respond Gloria said, "Be sure to put him to work dear,
he is an excellent carver."
"Oh wonderful, I so enjoy cooking, but I make a frightful mess of a
turkey when I attempt to carve one. I'll get Charles and see he has a warm
drink, be back in a minute." I was really proud of her; Gloria showed no
sign of recognition.
"This is a strange coincidence, did you know Roger had a sister named
Bridget?"
"Why yes he's mentioned her, but I thought she'd passed away." That
why I chose the name, and he seemed to like it.
"Yes seven years ago while vacationing with friends in Pretoria, she loved
wild animals, tragic really. The Land Rover they were traveling in
overturned and her neck was broken I think, it was a freak accident really,
but I've never forgiven myself for allowing her to go. Her body was
never retrieved, as wild animals drove off the rest of the party before they
could retrieve it.
In my day young girls didn't go flitting about as they do today. There is
not a day that goes by that I don't miss her. I know you love Roger, but
Bridget was a sweet loving girl, she was never the handful Roger was."
"I know what you mean, my brothers were so harum-scarum, and you
have no idea how wonderful it is for me to have Bridget staying with me.
You know, we do just everything together." I was getting a germ of an
idea; this might work out without bloodshed.
I saw Bridget lead Charles into the kitchen. I remembered Charles now,
he was a handsome black man about six-four, and while he was easily
fifty he had the body of a twenty year old athlete. My mind kind of drifted
thinking about his cock, it was probably enormous - Mike had been away
days too long. While I was harboring those thoughts Gloria was talking
about her Bridget, her ramblings only required an occasional yes, no or
maybe from me.
Soon Bridget called us into dinner, it worked out very well. Charles not
only carved, but he also served, saying he preferred to eat in the kitchen.
I'm sure Gloria influenced him, but then, he was hers to influence.
Bridget amazed me at the table; Gloria had been a successful fashion
designer until she got her hooks into Paul, Roger's dad. Early in
Bridget's training, I subscribed to a dozen women's magazines and
forbade her to read anything else. Now her reading paid off handsomely,
they chatted away about fashion trends while I plotted my next move, it
was becomi