The Decoy free porn video

Synopsis: Daniel was totally infatuated with Victorian novelist, Victoria Heartloose, and would do anything for her. When he discovers she is in real trouble and desperately needs help, he is only too willing to act as a decoy. As it turns out, the joys of turning into his favourite person, combined with unlimited access to her wardrobe, mean the task is a non-stop pleasure trip for him. Except that in the end, it does have to stop. This is another of my stories set in Seacombe, an English seaside town. Whilst some of the characters that turn up in this story also appear in others, each story is self-contained and stands alone. This is a longish story (21000 words), so set aside some time, sit well back in your chair, and enjoy. Marianne THE DECOY By Marianne Nettes Chapter 1 - STALKER Saturday As Daniel pulled to a halt at the lift bridge across the river in Seacombe, he thought he might explode with excitement. The bridge had been raised to allow a small sailing cruiser to pass through and Daniel had stopped in a short line of traffic to wait for the bridge to reopen. He had deliberately made his gaze appear casual while he swept the opposite bank upriver towards the point where the old town ended in a large house standing on its own grounds. She was there! Although several hundred yards away, it was a crystal clear day and the early morning sun was out. She was sitting where she always sat on a fine morning - on the terrace overlooking the river, wearing a pale-cream, low-cut Victorian dress. She looked absolutely gorgeous to Daniel. The same as she always did whenever he saw her. He'd set out at four am on that Saturday morning in order to reach Seacombe punctually, but he'd willingly have gone all night without sleep and driven a thousand miles simply to view her from that distance. But today, his extreme excitement wasn't due simply to a remote view of her. He'd be seeing her at a much closer range within the next hour. His hand dropped to the balaclava helmet and the handcuffs that he'd stuffed into the car door pocket. For a few seconds, he thought he was going to implode with pleasure until an angry beeping of a car horn behind made him realise that the bridge was now open and the car in front was disappearing from view. He hurriedly put the car in gear, and then stalled the engine as he tried to make a rapid take off -- producing yet more honks from the car behind. Fortunately, he re-started the engine and took off without further incident. The last thing he wanted today, he thought, was to bring attention to himself. He'd made good time that morning and it was still only eight am, so he could take it easy for the next few miles. He found the minor road by which he had to leave town and it was a drive of only ten minutes to reach the picnic area by the side of the creek, some two miles upstream from Seacombe. He parked at the rear of the car park amongst the trees where his car was unlikely to be noticed by the casual picnicker. He waited inside the car for twenty long minutes before getting out. He'd locked the car and was walking away, before he realised that he'd almost forgotten the balaclava and the handcuffs! He went running back to get them and stuffed them into his trouser pocket. The public footpath back to Seacombe was signposted and followed a well-worn route next to the river, about twenty feet above the high water mark. As the path meandered through the trees with the early morning sun glinting off the water, it must have been one of the most beautiful walks Daniel had undertaken for years, but he?d hardly noticed it as he mentally prepared himself for what was about to come. He nearly missed the narrow path branching off uphill to the right, but it was the correct way alright because twenty feet further on he passed the sign: 'Private Woods. Do not pass this sign. Return to the public footpath.' He continued past the sign and up the steep incline. The brick wall was at least ten feet high, with several strands of razor wire along the top to discourage anyone who might feel inclined to shin it. The narrow footpath terminated at a very solid- looking wooden gate that gave every appearance of not having been used for the last fifty years. Daniel glanced back at the way he had come. He was out of sight of the public footpath, and there was no one in view. He'd practiced putting on the balaclava several times at home and slipping it on was one of the few parts of his clandestine operation that went smoothly. He transferred the handcuffs to his rear pocket, as instructed. Then, he pulled out a pair of leather gloves from his left pocket and put them on before trying the handle on the gate. The handle gave a loud squeak as it turned and he had a moment of panic that it would be heard all over Seacombe. Nonetheless, the gate yielded to his push, and he was able to step through, giving his head a painful clout against the lintel as he did so. He suppressed the words that came to mind, and made a mental note to make plenty of allowance for the tunnel vision imposed by his balaclava. As he'd been told, he was in an area shielded from view by the barn on the north side of the house. His first task would be to use the cover provided by the copious plants and bushes to work his way around the west side until he could see the swimming pool terrace on the south. Daniel checked his watch. By now, she should be sun bathing on a lounger next to the pool and allowing him a relatively safe period in which to enter the house. In fact, it was much harder than he'd envisaged. The bushes were too small to properly conceal him and he had to squirm along the ground just in case she was in the house looking out through a window. Then he had a few yards without cover, where the graveled driveway led to the main gate. He sprinted across, his feet making a fearful crunching noise, before he could drop to the ground the other side. At the far side, he had more squirming along the ground until he'd reached the final bush, just in front of the swimming pool. He'd hoped to be able to peer through it but it was far too thick, so in the end he had to lift his head and peer over the top. He couldn't see her! The balaclava made it much worse, of course, because he could only see directly in front. He had to turn his head from side to side and up and down, like a submariner swiveling a periscope. He lifted his head some more. Still, he couldn't see her. It was not until he was standing upright and he happened to glance downwards that he?d suddenly realised that her sun lounger was only on the other side of the bush and he was standing almost on top of her. He should have ducked straight down, of course, for she merely had to open her eyes and she'd be staring up at his balaclava-clad head! But she was totally naked, and she looked absolutely ravishing. A tuft of nicely trimmed pubic hair, barely concealing the thick lips of her slit; well-rounded buttocks which swelled beautifully around her hips; a waist which although not particularly slim, showed not one ounce of flab -- presumably a result of strict corset training; and above that, the most stunning pair of breasts that Daniel had ever cast eyes upon. He had never before seen tits that were so firm and round, but so large - not quite melon sized, but certainly like outsized grapefruit. Lying on her back as she was, he'd have expected them to flop around her armpits, but these two were thrusting upwards as though trying to reach for the sky; brown nipples protruding like hazelnuts. He didn't know how long he?d stood staring down at her, conscious all the time that if she did open her eyes she'd utter a scream to wake the dead. Finally, he had the strength to turn and make his way as quietly as he could back around the north side of the house to the kitchen entrance. Fortunately, that door opened silently and he was able to step inside out of the early morning heat. For the first time, he realised that the sweat was quite literally pouring down his face. He'd never appreciated how hot balaclavas got. It was made worse because it seemed to be made of a material that was almost airtight. Maybe the SAS had special anti-perspirants to overcome the problem, but his face was soaking wet and he noticed that he left a trail of droplets behind him as he walked across the tiled kitchen floor. Once he stepped into the carpeted hallway, the drops were no longer obvious and he took the stairs two at a time to the first landing, where he peered out the window to check that she was still safely lying on the sun lounger. Sure enough, she was and Daniel breathed a sigh of relief that he had accomplished his first objective. He even considered pulling off his balaclava to let some air onto his face, but he'd been given strict instructions about that. He left it on. He knew where her bedroom would be - on the southeast corner of the house, and he found it without any problem. It was huge, decorated all in pink with a four-poster bed that faced the large windows, which gave a splendid view downriver to the old town. By putting his head right against the glass, he could see she was still lying on the sun lounger. It was safe to begin the search. He quickly found the drawer containing her underwear and he began to rummage amongst the wonderfully silky knickers and slips, looking for what should be hidden there. Everything smelled of her perfume and although he knew he shouldn't, Daniel couldn't stop himself from raising a pair of knickers to his nose, in order to smell them all the better. 'Hold it right there, or I'll blow you in two.' Chapter 2 - THE TABLES TURN The words may not have been original, but they served their purpose admirably. The man in the balaclava froze, and Victoria Heartloose moved quickly from where she'd been hiding behind the screen to block off his escape route to the door. If he tried anything, he'd have to run right onto the barrel of her shotgun, and she certainly didn't want to kill him - yet. 'Don't turn around, or I'll shoot. Hands above your head! And there's no need to wave a flag of surrender - I think you can drop my knickers on the floor.' The man did so, and she told him to lie on the floor, face down, keeping his hands above his head Again, the man complied. She could see a pair of handcuffs protruding from his rear pocket, and she ordered him to slip them on one wrist, and then put his hands behind his back. Trying to hold the shotgun ready to fire in one hand, it was bloody difficult to fasten the handcuffs onto the other wrist, but she?d managed it in the end. She then used her dressing table cord to hobble his ankles together, to ensure that even if he managed to get to his feet, he wasn't going to run away. 'Get on your knees,' she commanded. He struggled for a bit, and then fell back. 'I can't,' he said, 'you'll have to...? His words were cut short as she gave him a kick in his ribcage - not particularly hard, but then it wasn't a light tap, either. 'Shit,' he said. 'That hurt.' 'You'll do as you're told. Now get up.' He struggled some more, and eventually she grasped him by the scruff of the neck and helped him gain his balance. 'I can't breathe like this,' he said, panic coming into his voice. His balaclava had become twisted as she'd pulled him up, and his ear now protruded from the hole where his mouth should have been. He started to gasp loudly, trying to breathe. Victoria was tempted to leave it as it was, but she needed to get some sense out of him so she grasped the balaclava and jerked it right off his head. Beneath, his face was the colour of beetroot and he took huge gulps of air. When his breathing had become a little more controlled, she said, 'Were you looking for something in particular, or just admiring my knickers?' She slowly walked around his knelt figure so he could see her properly for the first time. She'd taken special care with her clothing for this occasion, deciding upon a tightly fitting black leather trouser suit with matching gloves and leather riding boots. She thought the whole ensemble nicely complimented the shotgun, which she'd acquired a few years ago when the plot for one of her books demanded some knowledge on the subject. 'Well?' she asked when he didn't respond to her question. She thrust the gun to within an inch of his nose. He went cross-eyed, trying to focus on it. 'I was expecting to find some money, there.' 'Ah! Some money.' She carefully placed the shotgun on the bed - well out of his reach, but where he could see it and where she'd be able to get it if needed. 'And why did you expect that?' He paused for a minute, as though trying to decide whether to tell the truth or make up an answer. 'I'm not really certain.' 'Well, let me suggest something to you,' she said. 'You're a filthy blackmailer, and you've come to collect your payment. You made me leave the money in my underwear drawer, so as to hurt me as much as you could. How does that sound?' 'Oh, that'll be it. Yes.' He sounded quite pleased that they'd come to agreement and even gave her an evil little smile. 'So now you're going to tell me where you've hidden your blackmail evidence.' He appeared to think about it, and then said with another smile, 'I don't think so.' She hit him hard across the face with the flat of her hand. When she'd been planning this moment, she had debated using the butt of the shotgun but she really didn't want to get blood over the pale pink carpet in her bedroom. The barn would be much more suitable for that when the time came. 'Fucking hell! That bloody hurt! There's no need to get carried away, you know. Don't go mad.' He still seemed oblivious to the fact that she felt like shooting his brains out. 'I'm sorry.' It was her turn to smile now. 'That was most remiss of me. There was really no need to do that.' Another nice smile. 'Not when there are much easier ways to cause you discomfort, such as slipping the balaclava over your head back to front.' His eyes followed her to the garment, still lying dripping wet on the floor where she'd dropped it. 'Er, look, er, don't do that. You see, I'm claustrophobic. I couldn't stand it, not being able to breathe.' Not every torturer's victim so readily gave away information about the things they really didn't want to happen, Victoria thought. Still, if he wanted to assist her, who was she to ignore his comments. She picked up the balaclava, and straightened it between her hands, slipping her fingers into the neck, and stretching it open. 'Er, no. Look, er...' He was unable to move from his kneeling position, but he leant backwards, away from her hands that were pushing the garment towards his head. 'No, look...' He leant too far backward, and fell with a thump onto the floor, half twisting as he did so, in order to land on his arm, rather than his head. 'Shit! Look, stop it now, or else. I'm going to have to bring this to a close. I mean it.' His voice rose to a shriek as she walked around his body, knelt down beside him, and started to stretch the balaclava over the top of his head. 'No! Stop! Look! That's it! Ebenezer.' She pulled the balaclava down over his eyes and it had just covered his nose when he yelled again at the top of his voice, 'Ebenezer!' She paused for a moment, prior to pulling the balaclava right over his mouth, and asked, 'Why are you telling me Scrooge's first name?' 'Oh, come on. Don't mess around. It's the fucking code, of course.' She pulled the balaclava off his head and asked, 'Code? What code?' 'The code we fucking agreed. In the emails.' She stared at him for a few seconds and then said, 'If you think you're going to talk your way out of this by inventing a few stories...' 'I'm not inventing stories,' he shrieked. 'We agreed to use a code in case either of us wanted to call a halt - Ebenezer.' When she failed to speak, he added, 'You can't deny all knowledge of the emails. For God's sake, you must know about them.' She appeared not to. 'Oh shit!' Then relief flooded through him as he remembered where they were. 'They're in my trouser pocket. You can read them.' Victoria rolled him over and extracted the two sheets of paper from his pocket. They were printed in reverse date order, and she scanned to the end of the second sheet to read the first email: 'Daniel, we met recently at my book signing at Borders in London and I was impressed by your detailed knowledge of my work. I'm currently looking for someone to help me with the plot development for my next story, and wondered whether you would be prepared to lend a hand? Naturally, I would need this to be kept in complete confidence, so please don't tell anyone about it. If you would be prepared to help me in this way, please reply by email. Love - Victoria Heartloose' Daniel's email response was a foregone conclusion and the next email gave instructions about where he should buy the balaclava and handcuffs, and a little more information about what would be required of him. The final email gave all the details - where he should park his car, how and at what time he should enter the house, and what he should do when he got there. 'Do you expect me to believe all this?' 'It's true! Honestly, it is!' 'This is not my email address.' 'But it's at victoriaheartloose.com,' he protested. 'That's not my web address - anyone could have registered it.' He couldn't disagree. 'I do have a friend, though, who knows how to find out all kinds of information about internet accounts.' 'Oh, please. Check with him. He'll tell you it's not me.' She left him, still lying on the floor, and he heard her go downstairs and telephone someone. By the time she returned, he'd managed to regain his earlier kneeling position. 'Daniel? That's your first name, isn't it? What's your surname?' she snapped at him. 'Kirk. Daniel Kirk. Why...' 'Address?' 29 Lower Church Rd, Streatham, but why do you...' 'Because,' she shouted at him, 'that's the name and address of the person who registered that website.' 'But it can't be. It's a trick. I've been set up! Honest!' Victoria looked at him and slowly shook her head. 'I'm probably being incredibly stupid, but I think I believe you. No one could be so dim-witted as to use their own name and address to set up a false identity.' A sigh of relief escaped his lips. 'Well, in that case, do you think you could take the handcuffs off me? I'm dying to go to the toilet.' Chapter 3 - BLACKMAIL 'Do you mean to say you really were going to shoot me?' After Daniel had been released from the handcuffs and had performed his essential bodily functions, the pair of them had gone downstairs and were now sitting in her kitchen drinking tea. Only now was it sinking into Daniel's mind that someone had played a wicked trick upon the pair of them, which could have had devastatingly fatal consequences - for him! She pulled a face, and said, 'I didn't dare put a cartridge in the chamber because I knew there could be only two possible conclusions. The first is that I would kill you -- perhaps when you tried to run away, or perhaps in cold blood.' She gave a tiny, apologetic smile. 'I hated the blackmailer so much, you see.' Daniel nodded, trying to look sympathetic, but really suppressing the shudder inside him. 'And what was the other possible conclusion?' She bit her lip before continuing. 'That if I failed to catch the blackmailer, I'd put the gun to my own head, and end my problems for ever.' 'Oh God!' Daniel was aghast, much more so than at the possibility of himself being killed. 'That's terrible. You mustn't even think about it.' 'You don't realise what it's like, to have a blackmailer having total power over you. Knowing that sooner or later he was going to destroy me, but making me suffer horribly in the meantime. Telling me to leave the money amongst my knickers gives you an idea of how evil he really is. He knew I'd have to throw them all away after he'd rummaged through them.' 'The bastard.' 'He made me sunbathe and swim naked in my pool, knowing that if any aircraft came overhead, they'd see me and my reputation would be shot to pieces.' Daniel could imagine the damage that kind of incident would do to Victoria Heartloose. As one of the country's best authors, she had always taken a high moral stance in her books and she had lived her own life in the same way, setting a wonderful example to all. If the press got a hold of nude photographs, they'd have a field day. 'That's why I got the mannequin, you see. To make him believe I was doing as he ordered. If news did leak out, I could show everyone they'd only seen a photograph of a mannequin.' The statement hit Daniel like a blow in the face. 'A mannequin! You mean it wasn't you lying on the sun lounger outside? It was a mannequin? So that's how you got dressed and upstairs so quickly.' No wonder, he thought, she'd had such firm tits. She crinkled up her face, and smiled. 'Did she fool you? If you'd seen me naked, you'd realise I don't really look as good as that in the flesh.' There was quite a long pause whilst Daniel pondered how he should respond to what almost sounded like an invitation, but it was Victoria who broke the silence. 'The mannequin is actually very realistic. A woman down in the town makes them, and it's like a plastic skin over a tailor's dummy so you can move the limbs as you choose. Standing up or sitting down, it looks life-like in whatever position you put it in. 'The problem is that it doesn't move. That's OK whilst it's lying on a sun lounger, but it looks totally false if you leave it sitting rigid at a table. To move it into position, you have to physically lug it around. I guess the blackmailer must have seen me moving it. That's probably why he involved you - because he?d realised that I was starting to fight back. He was probably hoping that I'd kill you today and I'd be in even greater trouble then.' There was another long pause, as Daniel tried to put into words what he knew he must say. 'Victoria, I know this will be difficult, but do you want to tell me what hold he has over you? I'm sure you'll feel better if you're just able to share it with me. I swear, I won't repeat it to anyone, at all.' She looked at him. 'It's strange; ten minutes ago I could have blown off your head. Now I really feel as though I can trust you.' He smiled at her. 'There's probably some deep psychological reason for that, but I do know that you'll feel better if you can share the problem with me.' She nodded, slowly. 'I guess you're right, but I think I'm going to terribly shock you - especially as you're such a fan of mine. You are a very keen follower of me, aren't you? I've seen you at a lot of my bookshop appearances.' It was his turn to nod. 'Yes, I go to every one of your public appearances. I think you're absolutely wonderful, but that also means I'll do anything to help you. Now, will you tell me?' She steeled herself, and then came out flatly with the words. 'I write pornographic novels.' 'Is that all?' Daniel was rather proud of the way he said that, although inside his mind was in turmoil. So sweet did she appear, he hadn't expected her to even know what a pornographic novel was. 'You're not shocked?' He knew he must play it cool. 'Well, it's hardly like being a child molester, is it? How many have you written?' James Bond would have been proud of him. 'Dozens. Before I became famous as Victoria Heartloose, they were my only source of income. You probably know my last two Victoria Heartloose novels haven't exactly been runaway successes, so more recently I've been keeping the pennies rolling in by continuing to write them.' 'And your blackmailer has somehow got a hold of that fact, and is threatening to expose you? Does he have firm proof or just a suspicion?' 'I don't know, but he doesn't really need firm proof, does he?' Daniel considered that. With the British Press's desire to destroy any popular icon, there was no doubt that Victoria's career would be devastated if that fact leaked out. Even the merest hint would set the vultures on her trail, which could only lead to one conclusion - the ending of Victoria Heartloose as a great novelist. He could not allow that. 'How does he send you instructions?' 'Letters, posted locally. You don't need to cut words out of a newspaper any more, to avoid identification. You simply use a computer and printer.' 'OK,' he said, with more confidence than he felt. 'Here's what we?ll do. Firstly, we have to get you away from here. He's obviously got you under observation from one of the houses in the town. He can see what you get up to, day and night. We?ll get you away to some anonymous location where he can't find you.' 'He's forbidden me to leave,' Victoria wailed. 'He says he'll spill the beans unless I stay here, right under his gaze. I have to go out on the sun terrace overlooking the harbour morning and afternoon, and sunbathe naked by the swimming pool in between times. I can't even think straight at the moment, but my publisher is demanding that I finish a story this week. It's already overdue and I haven't even started it. How am I going to do that?' The answer was obvious to Daniel. 'We use the mannequin to make him think you're still here, when you've really left.' 'I've told you, it's no good unless you can make it move like a living human being.' That's when he had his brilliant idea. 'You said it was like a skin on a tailor's dummy. Well, let's get one of your friends to wear it and pretend to be you.' Victoria shook her head. 'I don't know who the blackmailer is. It could be the husband or brother of one my friends, so I daren't involve anyone else in this. Besides, like you, they'd want to know what I had done to be blackmailed about and I don't think I could trust them like I trust you. Anyway, I'm five feet, nine inches tall. I think the tallest of my female friends is only five feet, six.' Daniel sat up in his seat, the exhilaration he'd experienced earlier that morning suddenly reappearing. 'I'm five feet nine,' he said. Chapter 4 - TRANSFORMATION Sunday Daniel found the relatively short walk through Seacombe old town to be far more difficult than his two-mile hike from the picnic area, the previous day. The main problem was the heavy suit-carrier he was clutching. As everyone knew, in order to carry a suit-carrier without it dragging along the ground, you either had to be seven feet tall or have exceptionally short arms. Daniel had neither, so he had to hold it with his elbow bent and with his wrist level with his chest. After ten minutes of walking, he felt that if he didn't soon put it down his arm would tear itself from his body. He found a convenient bench on the side of the old harbour, which not only allowed him a short rest, it also permitted him to admire Victoria Heartloose as she sat on the terrace of her house just above the harbour. He'd sat on this bench many times before, pretending to admire the scenery and take interest in the general bustle of the boats in the harbour. In reality, there was only one piece of scenery that he admired, and the bustle he was particularly interested in was that which lay beneath her Victorian dress. Victoria Heartloose's first novel had hit the shelves about five years ago. A cross between Bridget Jones and Hercule Poirot, it was about a pretty girl amateur detective, set in nineteenth century London. For the launch party, Victoria had borrowed a real Victorian dress. She had made such an impact that she'd continued to wear Victorian dresses in public ever since. They had become her distinctive trademark. She wore them at all her book signings and readings; she wore one when she went to collect her award as Best First Novelist; and she always wore them as she wrote on the terrace outside her house in Seacombe. Today she wore a simple, pink high-necked day dress, quite different from her normally more extravagant excesses of Victorian design - which Daniel preferred. However, he realised it would probably take hours to put on and take off such wonderful clothes - an important issue today - so he contented himself with admiring her as she was. There was always a trickle of visitors who would visit Seacombe specifically to see her at work, although less so now since her last two novels had, disgracefully, not been properly appreciated. This morning, Daniel shared the bench with an elderly couple, who shared his passion for her work and they spent a pleasant five minutes discussing their favourite author. Daniel continually wanted to tell them that he'd met Victoria yesterday, and that today he was going to help her in a way that no one else could. But he knew that Victoria's future depended upon him. If he started to blab his mouth now, he would be risking everything. Yesterday, he'd almost instantly made up his mind to do all he could to get her out of her difficulties, whatever indignities resulted in it for himself. To be honest, he didn't feel that being a stand in for the best novelist in the world was an indignity - in fact, he could hardly conceal the excitement inside him. But this morning, with his heroine looking so beautiful and innocent as she sat on her terrace above, he made a silent vow to himself. He wouldn't hesitate to kill the bastard who had been causing so much distress to Victoria. He bade the couple farewell, picked up the suit carrier, and continued his journey around the harbour side to the point where the public footpath to the picnic area commenced, directly at the base of the stone wall that supported the terrace of Victoria's house. The wall must have been more than twenty feet high at that point, so he was completely hidden from her view as he climbed the steep path into the woodland beyond. But when he arrived at the gate in the wall, she was waiting for him, as arranged. 'I watched you sitting on the bench in the harbour, so I came here as soon as I saw you leave,' she said, as she pulled the gate open for him to enter. 'I didn't like to leave it unlocked; in case the blackmailer should get in whilst I wasn't looking. I've had the lock on this gate changed, so he won't be able to get in this way again. I see that you got it, alright.' The latter referred to the suit carrier, which she was staring at. 'Yes. I went round to the shop as soon as I left you yesterday and your woman took the 3D laser photographs. I felt a bit embarrassed with it all, because I had to strip naked, but she was very efficient. When I called in just now, it was all packaged up in this suit carrier, ready for collection.' 'I said she'd be good.' Yesterday, Victoria had telephoned the shop that had provided her with the original mannequin, explained her needs and had been told that they were only too happy to provide a bodysuit, tailored to fit Daniel. 'By the way,' Daniel continued, 'she told me she was going abroad tomorrow for a few weeks to set up some overseas dealerships. She's leaving someone minding the shop, but since we wanted everything kept secret, she's not telling her about our bodysuits. If we have any problem with the suits, we need to sort it out today.' Victoria nodded. 'That's OK. She'd already told me. I was quite pleased because it means there's one less person around who knows our secret.' They went inside the house and Daniel laid the suit- carrier on the kitchen table, opened the end zip pocket and withdrew a pill bottle. 'She told me to take one of these every four hours through the day. It gradually releases a substance with a similar effect to helium - it's supposed to make my voice higher.' He opened the capsule and pulled out one of the pills and popped it in his mouth, and gave an experimental, 'One, two three.' His voice was unchanged. 'So much for that.' 'Perhaps it takes a little time to work,' Victoria said. 'Now, are you going to show me the bodysuit?' He unzipped the suit carrier and pulled the opening apart. Staring back at him was a man's face, above a flat, hairy chest. 'Damn! They've given me the wrong bodysuit.' Victoria looked apologetic. 'Sorry, I forgot to tell you that after you left yesterday, I had second thoughts about things. I realised that you weren't the only one who would need disguising; otherwise there'd be two Victoria Heartlooses. So I got them to make up a bodysuit for me. It will be much easier for me to disappear if I'm disguised as another person.' 'I'm surprised you didn't get it made up as another woman, or at least a man who was a bit more good looking,' Daniel said. Victoria looked even more apologetic. 'Ah, well, I thought the blackmailer would be less likely to suss me if I was disguised as a man. The problem was that they didn't have any suitable male templates, so they, er... Well they used your body as the template for my bodysuit.' He looked puzzled for a minute. 'You mean that I'm going to look like you and you're going to look like me?' She nodded, and a smirk came over Daniel's face. 'Really? You are going to look just like me?' 'I thought it would make a lot of sense. Then I could go driving off in your car - that's if you don't mind - and if the blackmailer is keeping watch on you, he'll simply think it's you that's driving back to London, rather than me.' 'That's brilliant!' He considered for a second, and then added, 'You could stay in my flat if you wanted. That way, you wouldn't have the problem of trying to pay for hotel accommodation with a credit card in your name, when you look like a man.' 'You wouldn't mind?' Victoria had been going to suggest that, but had thought Daniel might object. 'Of course not. In fact, I'd be really honoured. Perhaps in years to come, when this is all history, they'll put a blue plaque upon my wall - you know, "Victoria Heartloose stayed here whilst in hiding from a blackmailer".' 'I shouldn't think that's very likely, but we must keep this a total secret for the time being. You're sure you haven't told anyone, so far?' 'Absolutely. It's our secret, and will remain so until you say different.' 'Thanks. I knew I could rely on you, Daniel.' She gave him her nicest smile, and touched his arm. 'Incidentally, have you noticed that your voice has changed?' 'Really?' His voice was much softer than it had been a few minutes before. 'Wow! That's remarkable. I sure hope the bodysuit works as well, otherwise I'm going to have some strange looks if I talk to anyone like this.' He grinned at her, and they both looked as pleased as punch. Then, she broke the spell by turning to the bag and pulling out the upper part of her bodysuit. She held it up before her. It was like a leotard top with a built in hood and facemask, and gloves on the end of the arms - all in the pasty white colour of Daniel's skin. 'Here's the bottom half.' It wasn't until Daniel had pulled the dungarees out and let them hang down just as Victoria had done, that he realised exactly what he'd be exposing. 'Oh my God!' Victoria exclaimed, eyes goggling at the penis, as thick as her arm, which hung almost down to the knees. 'Oh! I'm sorry.' Daniel frantically tried to stuff the dungarees back into the bag, but Victoria caught hold of them. 'I guess I'm going to have to get used to them, so I might as well get all my embarrassment out of the way at one time.' She took the dungarees from Daniels hands and held them up again. 'Hell,' she said. 'I've played tennis with smaller balls than those.' Daniel followed her eyes downwards. 'So have I,' he muttered under his breath. His own equipment wasn't one quarter of the size of that which graced the bodysuit. *** They went to different bedrooms to put on their bodysuits. Daniel found that, just like Victoria's, his bodysuit was in two parts. He slipped his feet down the legs of the dungarees and into the socks at the bottom. They looked just like real feet, only rather more attractive than his own. He pulled the dungarees up above his knees and looked down at them. For most of their length, they were made of such thin material it was like wearing nothing at all, except they completely disguised his hairy legs and gave them a nice tan. The knees were slightly padded which made them look much smoother than Daniel's knobbly ones. Above the knee they started to get wider on the outside and rear of the thigh, until they reached the hip and buttocks, where they swelled out alarmingly. The woman in the shop, who was called Toni, had given him specific instructions on how to wrap up his genitals, and then push them up inside his body, as the dungarees were brought up past the groin. It was at that moment that Daniel had felt his most embarrassed. However, her instructions were bang on and his genitals disappeared without any of the pain Daniel had expected. The problem arose when he tried to do up the zip at the back. The dungarees were far too tight around the waist, and they simply wouldn't fasten. Like most males, he had difficulty with zips which were clearly in the wrong position to either look at or even get a good grip upon, and he could only raise it a mere one inch from the bottom of its track. 'I thought it was only women that had problems with embarrassing bulges. Where on earth do you normally hang this?' It was Victoria's voice, but it was a Daniel look- alike who stepped through the door -look-alike in all but one area, anyway. Daniel's mouth fell open as he gazed downwards. 'Oh my God! I'm so sorry. I'm not normally like that. Really. It must be a mistake. I don't know how it came out as big as...' 'That's alright, Daniel' the other Daniel smiled at him. 'I think it was probably my fault. Toni asked me if I wanted the super deluxe genitals and I said yes, without thinking. Apparently, these do all sorts of things - the mind boggles. Anyway,' she gave an appraising glance at Daniel's efforts to close the zip, 'are you having problems with that? Do you want some help?' She gave a few tugs at the zip, which were as unsuccessful as Daniel's had been. 'They told me on the phone that you might have some problems fitting into it, as my waist is quite a bit slimmer than yours, but they were certain it would go eventually. Now, what I need is some cord.' She disappeared downstairs and came back a minute later with some thin, nylon cord. 'I think this will help. Turn around and let me fasten it to the zip.' He did so, and then she bade him walk to the top of the stairs, where she tied the other end of the line to the banister rail, and got him to walk down the stairs until the line tightened, whereupon, she reasoned, the zip would pull itself up. Daniel did so; to the point where the line was so tight he couldn't go down any further. 'It's still not going to pull up,' he said, gasping a little because his waist was being squeezed extremely tightly. 'I think it will,' Victoria said, and she came down the stairs until she was on the step immediately above him. She gave him an enormous push, and he slipped off the edge of the stair, and swung like a pendulum on the end of the line, his whole weight supported by it. 'Bloody hell! Why didn't you warn me? It's bloody painful! Get me down!' She did not and inexorably, his body slowly got lower and lower as the zip slid up his back, the bodysuit squeezing him more fiercely than any boa constrictor could. 'It's too tight,' he gasped. 'You'll have to get it off me.' 'Rubbish,' she replied. She went down to the bottom of the stairs and steadied him by his legs. 'One more little pull and you'll do it.' 'No, it's too...' She grasped him tightly around the waist, and then lifted her own feet off the ground. Their combined weight was enough to force the zip that extra inch, although it felt to Daniel as though a couple of his ribs had been crushed in the process. Victoria swung him back towards the stairs and located his feet onto one of the steps. 'There you are. All done. Now, just get your breath back and we'll put the top piece on.' He could hardly speak, so tight was the clamp around his body. 'No, no, I've changed my mind. It's too tight.' 'Oh Daniel,' she said. 'That's not tight at all. Just wait until we lace you into a corset, so that we can slip one of my dresses over you.' He knew he should have violently protested, but there was a sudden rush of excitement through him which he couldn't quite explain. But that excitement suggested an answer to the question he'd been pondering all yesterday evening - why on earth had he volunteered for this task? He gave a little smile and said, 'I suppose I'll live.' 'Oh Daniel,' she said, and gave him a sudden kiss on the cheek. The action was quite bizarre because it appeared that a man was kissing him. She sensed his shock and added, 'I think that from now on, we'd better start using our new names. Otherwise, if anyone does hear us talking, we'll immediately give the game away. In the future, you will call me Daniel, and I'll call you Victoria.' He waived at his own hairy chest, squeezing out the top of the Victoria dungarees. 'Well, I'm not quite Victoria yet.' Daniel smiled. 'Well, we'll soon see about that.' And they did. Ten minutes later, they came back downstairs. Victoria was wearing a silk dressing gown, with her wonderful cleavage almost totally exposed by the deep V neckline. She was perpetually glancing down at her cleavage, as though unable to believe what was there, and occasionally, she reached down and gave one of her breasts a soft squeeze. Surprisingly, Daniel didn't appear at all interested in Victoria's cleavage and was instead looking at himself in the hall mirror. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been dressed in that morning as he walked from the town, and didn't look particularly happy with them. 'I meant to tell you to bring some spare clothes with you,' he said. 'I probably couldn't have managed anything else,' Victoria said. 'My arm was falling off as it was, just carrying the suit-carrier.' 'Well, I think we both need some practice in our new roles. We have the afternoon ahead of us. Let's use the time fully.' *** As Daniel helped her to get dressed, Victoria could hardly control her euphoria. She looked fantastic; she felt fantastic; she was fantastic. The only slight letdown was that Daniel didn't appear to be all that interested in her. After all, he was nothing to look at himself, apart from that huge bulge in his trouser leg, which she found extremely disturbing. Fortunately, he did take prodigious interest over her appearance, showing her what clothes would go together and which would not; telling her when she could wear certain clothes but not others; and giving her explicit instructions about how to hold her body with poise, and to move in a ladylike way, giving just the merest hint of a wobble as she walked. When Daniel took Victoria into her dressing room, she knew she had reached heaven. It was full of racks of the most wonderful clothes she had ever seen. There were beautiful dresses and ball gowns, lacy petticoats and frilly pantaloons. Daniel got her to put on a camisole and pantaloons, and then before she knew it, he was slipping a corset around her waist. Victoria was almost shivering in anticipation of what was to come, but a cloud of doubt crossed her face. 'Surely I'm not going to be able to do this on my own?' she asked. 'Didn't Victorian ladies have a maid to help them lace up and get dressed?' Daniel smiled. 'The other Victoria managed it on her own. Let me show you her secret weapon.' He indicated a flat, grey box fixed to the wall at waist height, with deep diagonal slots in the top face. 'It's an automatic corset tensioner. Simply set the tension you want on this knob at the side, drop the laces into the slots on top and press the button.' He moved her so that her back was flat against the box and slipped the laces into the appropriate slots. 'I think we should set it to something fairly low - let's say three, to start with.' He turned the knob through three clicks. 'Ready?' Victoria nodded and Daniel pushed the switch. Surprisingly, it was such a smooth pull on the laces, and such a slow contraction of the corset that she was able to withstand the increasing pressure for several minutes. Her self-confidence was improved because she could watch herself in a mirror opposite. Gradually, her rather round stomach was drawn in, her waist started to appear, and her ribcage got slimmer, but none of it felt too uncomfortable. 'Because it's tightening the laces so slowly, the body has chance to get accustomed and adapt itself to the pressure,' he said. 'It takes about five minutes to reach full tension at this setting - about twenty minutes if the machine is set to its maximum. How are you feeling?' 'I'm OK, so far.' Victoria was definitely surprised she was coping so well. 'Are we almost there, now? It's starting to feel quite tight.' Daniel smiled. 'The other Victoria wasn't into tight lacing. Wearing a corset is a lot easier than many people make out. Another minute and you're done.' OK, so it was definitely tight at the end of that minute, but Victoria felt so pleased with herself when she heard the machine bleep its completion. 'Is that it?' She could hear the relief in her own voice, mixed with a little pride. She had withstood it. She was a true Victorian lady. 'How do I tie the laces whilst they're still in the machine?' 'You don't need to tie them. The machine automatically puts a little cleat around them, which is far more compact than a bulky knot. All you have to do now is to raise your body so you lift the laces out of their slots.' She swiveled in front of the mirror. 'Wow, I look absolutely incredible. I never dreamt I could look even half as good as you... that is, the real Victoria. But I do!' Daniel didn't appear to be very enthusiastic about her looks, because he continued in a rather bitchy tone, Victoria thought. 'I've got out a dress with the largest waist. It's quite pretty, don't you think?' Victoria looked at it, and her heart leapt into her mouth. She nodded enthusiastically. 'It's beautiful.' He smiled. 'That's good. Now, let's slip on your crinoline.' Victoria felt as though she was already on top of the world, but getting dressed in those wonderful clothes made it even better. She twisted and turned in front of the mirror as she slipped on one garment after another. Finally, her feet were fed into tiny shoes and Daniel was lacing them up for her. Then, he placed a wig over her head, and helped her to gingerly walk through to the bedroom and stand in front of the huge wall mirror. 'What do you think?' She was wearing a dark green bodice with long sleeves and a low cut front, which exposed her wonderful breasts to perfection. A pastel green skirt blossomed out over her crinoline. She looked fantastic - to her eye, every bit as good as the other Victoria looked when she wore her Victorian regalia. 'What I think, Daniel,' she said, 'is that you are extremely fortunate to be in the company of such a distinguished and beautiful Victorian lady.' She realised, as she saw his reaction to her remark that he had been behaving very strangely over the last half hour. She sought to discover the problem. 'Kind sir, you look troubled. Is there anything the matter?' He gave an embarrassed smile. 'I think it was probably a mistake getting these super deluxe genitals,' he said. 'They are rubbing me inside, and I'm really quite sensitive.' Victoria smiled. 'I may have a lot to learn about Victorian clothing,' she said, 'but when it comes to dicks, I'm an expert. Now, drop your trousers.' Victoria was rather surprised that he dropped his trousers so readily, but when the monster swung up towards her face, she could see why. It must have been incredibly uncomfortable. When it had been limp, she had been absolutely nauseated by it - now it was semi rigid, it was horrific. The purple head and the blue veins were so realistic. She knew it wasn't a real prick, of course, which is probably why she reached out and took it in her hand. Except that it was much too large to wrap her hand around it. She shuddered. 'It's getting harder,' he said. 'What should I do about it?' 'There must be some kind of pump inside,' Victoria said. 'It's activated by the movements of your body, so it's gradually pumping itself up.' She gave his prick a trial pump, just to show him, and sure enough it went a bit more rigid. 'You don't really need to do anything about it. Men often have erections they can't do anything about. Simply pull up your trousers with your penis pointing upwards, rather than downwards.' 'You don't understand,' he said. 'It's not just the external size. It's getting bigger inside, as well. It feels as though it's totally filled me, and it's rubbing against my sensitive spots. I have to do something.' Victoria wasn't at all sympathetic. 'Well, you'd better go to the bathroom and masturbate, hadn't you?' 'How do I do that?' 'Oh, for heaven's sake.' She took his penis back in her hand, and started to pump it. 'Like this.' With just three strokes, the penis was rock hard. 'Oh, that's nice.' 'Well, that's why blokes are always masturbating. Now, you can go to the bathroom and do it to yourself.' 'Can't you do it for me?' 'For heavens sake, Daniel. We hardly know each other! That is not the sort of thing that a gentleman will ask a Victorian lady whom he hardly knows. I really think you need to...' she almost said "take yourself in hand", but chose other words instead '...be careful what you say to ladies in public, otherwise you're going to be arrested as soon as you go out.' 'You don't understand. I'm desperate. I really need you to help me.' Victoria had moved closer to him in order to take hold of his penis. Now, she became aware they were so close that his penis was pushing against her skirts and forcing the crinoline behind her to hoist itself up in the air. Given Daniel's disturbed state, she thought it wise to put more distance between them. She stepped backwards. 'Don't walk away from me, Victoria. I've told you, I need you.' Daniel grabbed at her skirts, and tried to pull her towards him. 'Unhand me, sir!' Victoria was really getting into the swing of being a Victorian lady. She wasn't going to have any improper behaviour around her - a lady could get a bad name, otherwise. She pulled hard at her skirts to try to tug them out of Daniel's clutching hand. Suddenly, everything happened too fast for her to comprehend. Daniel released the pressure on her skirts, and almost thrust the crinoline up into her face. She staggered back, but with the front of the crinoline almost vertically up in the air, it meant the rear was dragging along the ground, and her foot caught in it, and she went tumbling backwards. Fortunately, the bed was immediately behind her and she had a soft landing. But no sooner had she landed on the bed, than Daniel was leaping upon her, and pushing her skirts and the crinoline right over the top of her head and shoulders. She couldn't see, and her arms were trapped somewhere in the voluminous material, and she could feel his naked legs between her thighs. 'Damn you! Stop this immediately, sir. Or I'll... oh!' The latter remark because she felt something very hard, and very large nuzzling against her groin. Many a Victorian lady before her had bemoaned the fact that pantaloons were two separate tubes on a common waistband, with no stitching between groin and waist to join the separate halves. Whilst this feature provided adequate fresh air for a part of the anatomy that was frequently in need of it, its disadvantage was that it gave absolutely no protection from a rampant prick. She tried reasoning with him. 'Look, Daniel. You know I'm not a proper woman. There's simply no room for someone of your size.' Daniel was obviously finding that out for himself, because a couple of experimental prods made it obvious that penetration for that monster would be harder than getting the camel through the eye of the needle. He pulled himself away from her 'That's better, Daniel. Now if you'll just... A-a-a- g-h!' He had found another orifice to try, and as he started to nuzzle his way inside, it hurt like hell. No - worse than hell. 'Oh! Jesus Christ. Daniel! Stop it! Oh, Stop it! A-a-a-a-a-g-h!!!' Once he was inside, Daniel immediately started making hard, excruciatingly painful thrusts inside her, uttering animal grunts as he did so. She knew she had to bring this horror to an end quickly before he did her serious internal damage. He gave another enormous thrust into her, which felt as though his prick was forcing its way right up through her insides in order to pop out of her mouth. Her mind was made up - it was no good lying back and thinking of England. 'Oh Yes!' She returned his thrust with one of her own. 'Yes!' Another hard shove against him as he responded. 'Harder, Daniel. Yes! Fuck me, harder!' As she encouraged him, so he reacted and with only two more thrusts she felt a deluge of hot, sticky liquid shoot into her arse. He withdrew slightly, then thrust again, and an even bigger torrent filled her to bursting. Again he withdrew and thrust, and Victoria realised that now she was well lubricated and his thrusts were no longer so vicious, it was actually quite pleasant. No, much more than pleasant, it was actually divine. Absolutely beautifully, fucking gorgeous. She responded to his thrusts and made little whimpering noises. 'Oh Daniel. That's wonderful. Just move it slowly... There! Keep on that spot. Oh God! I think I'm going to come! I think I'm going to...' She was aware of a sudden cold draft where an instant ago she had been filled with pleasure. She wriggled her head out from under her skirts. Daniel was standing, pulling up his trousers and zipping his fly. 'Daniel! You can't leave me like this! He looked puzzled, and Victoria said, 'I need...' She sought for the right words to explain. Victorian ladies did not even think, let alone say, 'arse fucking until I have an earth shattering orgasm.' So instead, she said, '...attention.' Enlightenment dawned. 'Oh, sorry. I was forgetting.' He turned away for a second, and when he returned, he had a towel in his hand that he threw between her legs. 'There you are, that'll stop the semen getting on your dress. I'll give you a call. Bye.' And the bastard was gone! Chapter 5 - NEW LIVES As soon as Daniel stepped onto the harbour wall, he became aware that people were ignoring him. Had they immediately realised that he was really a she, and were consequently giving him a wide berth? As he walked around the harbour, Daniel tried to catch people deliberately averting their gaze, but even when he locked his gaze upon a person some distance away, whose attention was clearly elsewhere, he found that he could walk right up to them and pass by within inches without them appearing to notice him. It was as though he had become invisible. Along the whole of the waterfront, there were only two people who acknowledged his presence - an elderly couple who were sitting on a bench and smiling at him as he approached. Their attention pulled him towards them like a needle to a magnet. 'She's just come out,' they said. 'Oh my God!' Daniel thought. They must be subtly trying to tell him that a female part of his anatomy was on show. No wonder people were avoiding looking at him. He sat down hurriedly on the bench, prepared to clasp his clothing around him to hide whatever might be displayed. But everything seemed in order and the couple was gazing up in the air, oblivious to his discomfort. 'She's wearing that green outfit, this afternoon. The same one she wore to that book signing in Torquay.' Daniel glanced up to the terrace above the harbour. There was Victoria Heartloose, a manuscript under her arm, moving about very cautiously as though she might topple over. She appeared vague about what to do next, moving from one side of the terrace to the other, as though she hadn't seen the view at least a hundred times before. Finally, she hovered before the stool next to the table where she always sat to do her work, appearing as though she wanted to sit down, but doubtful as to how she should go about it. After pausing there for almost half a minute, she turned her back on the stool, grasped the rear of her skirt with the crinoline in her hand and yanked it into the air. Then she backed herself over the stool, in an extremely ungainly fashion, and finally lowered herself down, appearing from the sudden look of alarm on her face that she?d almost missed sitting on the stool altogether, with disastrous consequences. She had the manuscript, which the other Victoria had given to the other Daniel, yesterday. 'I'm not going to take this with me to London,' she'd told him, 'since my publisher wants me to get on with the next book in my Victorian Scrubbers series. But if you want, you could read this through whilst I'm away and mark up any obvious typos. 'In fact,' she'd given him a little smile of encouragement, 'there are a couple of chapters which still need quite a lot of work. You could propose some drafts if you like. I'll read them when I come back, and if they're good, I'll include them in my novel. That's if it's alright with you, of course, since I wouldn't be able to publicly admit that they're yours.' He'd jumped at the chance, as she'd known he would. 'Of course I wouldn't mind that. I totally understand. However,' he'd looked at her shyly, 'you could say some nice words about me in the acknowledgements.' She'd responded that it went without saying, and now the new Victoria had the challenging task of finding words good enough to sit alongside the original Victoria script. 'As though,' Daniel told himself, 'that were even remotely possible.' But at least it kept Victoria occupied, which meant she would start behaving more naturally as she got into her task. In turn, that would lessen the risk of her discovery, which was crucial. As Daniel watched Victoria at work, he slowly breathed a sigh of relief. Things were going to work out alright. Her act was good enough to fool most people from this distance and it would become more polished with time. Daniel could proceed with the plan. He'd agreed with Victoria that he would spend the night at the lodgings which the other Daniel had taken the previous day, before returning to his (Daniel's) home in south London. That way, they'd agreed, the blackmailer would believe there was no further involvement between the two of them and would discount Daniel henceforth. Apart from Victoria, absolutely no one would know of his whereabouts, and he would be able to spend a few days in blissful peace and solitude. Unaware that, earlier that day while sitting on that same bench, the other Daniel had made exactly the same promise - Daniel vowed he would kill the bastard who had been recently causing so much distress to Victoria. He muttered some excuses to the elderly couple, and started walking towards his lodgings. After a few more minutes of being totally ignored by everyone, he realised there was no special reason for it - that was the way people normally reacted to Daniel. He smiled - he was absolutely anonymous, and it felt great. *** Victoria went out on the terrace just before four pm, a light spring in her step. Not only did she look and feel fantastic, her mind felt more alert than ever before. She'd read somewhere that corsets had the effect of forcing more blood through the brain - if that were the case then she'd be hooked onto corsets for evermore. It felt wonderful just being out on the terrace and she elegantly glided from one railing to the other, admiring the splendid views and allowing her fans to appreciate her beauty and elegance. Not that there were many fans in view, at that moment. The elderly couple that Daniel had spoken with that morning was on the same bench, and as she watched out of the corner of her eye, Daniel went and sat with them. She almost gave him a wave when he stared up at her, but pulled it at the last second, realising it would completely give the game away. She had a problem when it came to sitting down at the table, for she couldn't work out how to get her buttocks onto the stool. Her skirt trailed to the ground, and if she pulled up her skirts and crinoline at the front, the whole world would see her ankles, or even (shock, horror!) her calves! On the other hand, if she moved forward without lifting the crinoline over the stool, it would force her skirt into the air at the rear. But with her mind as alert as it was, it only took an instant to work out what she had to do, and she swiveled around to face the public, smoothly lifted her skirts behind her and gracefully moved backwards to lower herself onto the stool. She almost missed sitting on the wretched thing, but she quickly recovered and she was pretty certain that no one below could have noticed anything amiss. For the next two hours, Victoria sat at the table on the terrace in full view of the town of Seacombe and read her new novel. When the sun started to sink in the sky and it started to get a little chilly, she went into the kitchen and had a small snack. Afterwards, she repaired (that's what Victorian ladies did, she thought, they repaired) to the study, where she continued to read the novel through. It was approaching midnight when she went up to her dressing room, and took off her wonderful clothes and carefully hung them up. Then she selected the most delectable, full-length nightdress, and slipped it on. Finally, as Daniel had recommended, she laced a night corset tightly over the top of her nightdress, before getting into bed. It did mean that reading the last few pages of the manuscript was a problem, since the corset wouldn't let her do anything other than lie flat on the bed, but she managed it by holding the pages in the air above her head. And as she completed reading the last few words, she fell into a deep slumber. *** In her previous life, Victoria had often awoken at about three am and found it a wonderfully quiet time at which to think about all manner of things. That night was no exception, but there was only one subject on her mind. Her new novel was absolute crap! There were some quite good bits of text, but none of it fitted together, and most importantly, the plot was so contrived that her characters did the strangest things - purely so that they would fit in with the storyline. In her past life, she surmised, Daniel would never have the temerity to believe that a book w