M&S Jewellery free porn video

Ah, dear reader, you join us at a most auspicious moment, one which may change the lives of a cast of characters which we will shortly meet. Yes, dear reader, perhaps change some lives in a way you might imagine, and perhaps in a way you might not, but certainly not in a way that our protagonists imagine. But before we meet them, our main subjects for discussion, (let us call them Anthony and Theresa, for that is how they introduced themselves one to another) allow me to set the scene. A shop. A jewellery shop. Outside, above the door hangs a sign, "M&S Jewellery". Our beautiful young couple have entered the shop wondering whether it might somehow be related to a certain clothing and food chain, and have just queried the rotund, rather jolly owner as to whether there is such a connection. "No, none that I know of, though my daughter does on occasion shop there." "Oh," pouted Theresa, sometimes Tessie, sometimes Tess or Terrie. "Then what does M&S stand for?" "If you must know, it's Master and Slave." "Like the Depeche Mode track?" threw in Anthony. "That was Master and Servant," Tessie corrected him. "But that's why there's two of everything?" continued Anthony, wishing to score points somewhere. "Well spotted," smiled the owner, "every ring, bracelet, necklace, and the rest are sold as pairs, one Master, one Slave. Earrings are sold as a quartet." "What if I only want one bracelet?" asked Tessie. "Isn't selling two just a gimmick? And Master and Slave is so BDSM, yet this place is no leather and whips shop. What's the story? Why should I buy?" Of course at the time she was eyeing up a particularly attractive pair of Russian Wedding Rings, with a fairly minor price tag. The owner noticed, and spotted a potential sale. "All the Jewellery you see here, and some you don't, has special magic. Just one talent though, across the range, across the whole shop, from the lowliest studs to the loveliest crowns. Separated each item is a power in itself, allowing its wearer to change their physical form to any human appearance they wish. And this is not illusion, but a complete physical transformation, correct in every detail. Together though, ah, there's the beauty. When both are worn the Master not only controls the Slave's physical transformations, but is able to give the slave commands that must be fulfilled. The Slave has no choice, whether or not they wish to obey." "Bullshit," coughed Anthony. Theresa merely looked up at the shopkeeper in complete disbelief. "Can you show me?" asked Theresa. "Maybe with these," she said, pointing to the rings. "I'm afraid I can't. You see, only the owners can use the jewels, and whilst I am the owner, I refuse to put on a slave ring with someone I barely know, and my ethics prevent me from wearing a master ring with one of you as the slaves. Finally, as you can't experience the power of the jewellery yourselves, even if I put on a ring and transformed in front of your eyes, you wouldn't believe me. You'd be looking for the trick. Some things are just too powerful to be believed. You have to experience it a few times before your own mind will allow you to engage with the concept. Buy the rings, try the rings, and if you're not satisfied, we do offer a full money back refund on undamaged items." Anthony shrugged. He said to Theresa, "That sounds fair. Why don't we take a look at those two Russian Wedding Rings? We're on holiday, so let's treat ourselves. Nothing doing, we come back." And so, dear reader, you understand that our young lovers are now set on their path of discovery. Holding the rings in their case they exit the store and enter a new period of imagination and playfulness, facilitated by prodigious power, which may tempt one or the other. After all, power corrupts, or so they say, and it would seem that the Master herein would hold absolute power over his Slave, would you not agree? Does absolute power not corrupt absolutely? To determine the will of our debutantes, perhaps we should understand a little about them. Pray, step back for a moment, and allow our story to tell their history. Anthony Travers is a personal trainer. He works in a gym in Oldham, where he lives. Anthony is thirty two years old, a chemistry graduate from a local university who still lives in the house his parents helped him to buy as a student. Due to a lucky offer at the time of Anthony starting university, mortgages for students were cheap, and his parents invested in a large house that other students could rent rooms in. After university, Anthony got a graduate position in a petroleum corporation, but stayed local and in the house, renting rooms out to further students and some of his friends. Within ten years the mortgage was fully paid off, and Anthony realised that the corporate ladder was not where he wanted to be. He cashed in some of his savings and took a few brief courses, eventually getting a job at an outdoor pursuits centre where he taught his hobbies of windsurfing and kayaking. Whilst there he took up a qualification in personal training, and advertised his services in the local gyms. Theresa Godwin is the director of marketing in a retail firm based in Oldham. She dropped out of school at sixteen and lived on benefits whilst not declaring her income from various waitressing and bar jobs. For a while, for a certain boyfriend, she acted as the customer facing operation of a minor drug sales venture. That stopped when she was caught in possession, though her abject dismay and tears in the station convinced her captors that she shouldn't be charged with intent to distribute and she was released with a warning which she took to heart. She took herself to night school and got herself a qualification in psychology that allowed her to enter college. She got a certificate in management studies and then followed up over time with an honours degree in business studies. At twenty five she got a graduate placement into the retail firm where she still works, having leapt up the corporate ladder. When she hit thirty she realised a couple of things about herself; she still smoked like a rebellious sixteen year old, and hotel food was leaving her the worse for wear. She popped down to her local gym and decided to book herself a personal training session or two. There you have, dear reader, our protagonists' potted histories. Are you beginning to get an impression of them yet, perhaps forming pictures in your mind? A young, beautiful couple, brought together by an accumulation of circumstances that must be more by design than coincidence? Is Anthony smart, fit, financially independent, perhaps a bit of a playboy? Is he a blond adonis in your mind's eye? Maybe you've already made him slightly chauvinistic, and therefore Theresa is a bit of a blonde bimbo, a trophy for the tanned and manly hunk? Or is she a driven, determined woman that has escaped her poor beginnings? Maybe she's the career woman that wants a bit of fun on the side? Did you picture her as blonde or dark? That is very revealing. All of the traits of those images in your mind's eye are very revealing, about yourself. Physic, heal thyself, and perhaps allow yourself to be surprised at what our nebulous characters get up to. Perhaps not. We shall see. "So, how are we going to do this?" "I think one of us should put on the master ring, and leave the slave one alone for now." Theresa never admitted superstitions or any belief in the supernatural, but that didn't mean that she was entirely skeptical. "I'll put on the master then, and see if I can do anything." Anthony put the ring on his finger and concentrated. Nothing happened. "That's a dud, then!" he frowned. "Hang on, he said they both have to be worn to engage with the owners. I'll put the slave on." And Theresa tentatively reached for the second ring. She put it on, and concentrated. After a moment, she frowned. "This one doesn't do anything either." She pulled at the ring she'd so easily slipped on only to find that it wouldn't come off her finger. "Bugger!" she swore. "It was loose!" "Didn't he say the slave couldn't be removed if the master was being worn?" "I'll just go to the kitchen and get some butter." Anthony got a glint in his eye. "Okay, but make sure you get undressed and smear it all over your boobs before you come back in." Theresa laughed. Moments later her laugh died. Anthony wandered into the kitchen to find her smearing the contents of the butter dish over her pert breasts. She looked up at him. "Ew, Anthony, it's horrible!" "Stop it," he said, "go wash it off, then get dressed again." They met back in the living room. "Okay, Anthony, can you let me get this ring off now? It works." "Seems to," said Anthony. He'd spent a few minutes thinking. "I just want to really make sure. You gave up smoking over a year ago and since then you've hated it more and more. If this really works, you'll hate me for this, but it's one way to know for sure." "What are you thinking of?" "Go round to the shop up the road and buy yourself a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Smoke two on your way back, but don't come back in until you've finished both. Off you go." Theresa simply turned on her heel and walked out of the house. Twenty minutes later she came back in through the kitchen door. "Anthony," she almost shouted as she saw him in the living room, "that was disgusting! I feel violated. It's impossible to refuse, whether I wanted to or not." "Calm down, Tess," advised Anthony, and she again found herself unable to refuse. "I knew you'd hate it so now you're going to forget completely that anything happened." Theresa appeared to glaze over momentarily. Then she pulled a face. "Bleugh, what the hell did I just taste?" She skipped out to the kitchen to wash her mouth out with orange juice. Anthony took off the master ring. Theresa came back into the living room. "You can get that ring off now, if you want," suggested Anthony. Theresa looked down at her hand and pulled off the slave ring. She gave it to Anthony. "We know that they work now, so how about we pick for who gets to be master next?" He put his hands behind his back, juggled the rings between them, and then held his closed fists out in front of himself. Theresa tapped his right hand, he opened it, and she took the ring. "Do you love me?" she asked. "Of course I love you," Anthony replied. Theresa slipped on her ring. Anthony took a look at his, grimaced slightly, and then slid it on too. Aren't you simply agape at what might happen next, dear reader? Isn't it terrible to drop in a cliffhanger so early in our tale? Who is the master, who is the slave, and what is this question of love? Love, trust, faith, honour and loyalty. What do these all mean when you have power? Can you imagine having complete control over another and what would you get them to do? But what if it was your partner, lover, friend? Now what if they, partner, lover, friend, had complete control over you? Would you slide on that ring? Pause for a moment, dear reader, and consider it, imagine it. Do you really know them that well? And whilst you imagine that, let us allow our story to continue, perhaps with a little historical interlude to keep you in suspense. Theresa had never even seen the inside of the gym at the base of her apartment complex. She walked nervously through the door to be greeted at the reception by a young, smiling, pretty girl in a black uniform. When she said that she wasn't a member but was considering joining, the girl tannoyed Anthony, who arrived within moments, his hands full of forms. She noted that he was attractive, but only in passing. As they sat together in the lounge behind the reception filling in forms, she noted on occasion that he was a little flirtatious. She didn't really pay much attention to it. It was friendly, nice even. She signed up straight away, because that was her plan, and she knew that if she wanted to get serious she needed something to drive her, so she asked about personal training. Anthony offered to combine her induction with a short personal training session so that she could get an idea before she signed on the dotted line for a series of sessions. Theresa asked how soon she could have her induction. They pencilled in that afternoon. Anthony's style of training was very relaxed and open. He knew that beginners liked certain exercises, and disliked others, so he used the induction to determine interest and then followed up immediately with a short session concentrating on those exercises which Theresa hadn't frowned on. His only vice was to get her to walk on a treadmill on an incline, so that he could stand at the front chatting with her whilst getting a better look at her shapely bust. Anthony hadn't had a girlfriend for a couple of years, and whilst many had shown interest, he only occasionally took advantage. Theresa rocked him however, and he wanted to find out more about her. As soon as she mentioned she was single he was going to ask her out. If only she was at the gym to talk about things like that. Theresa was business. She rebuffed all of Anthony's soft advances but one day she realised that he was getting to her. She turned up ten minutes early for a training session and got on a treadmill from where she could see Anthony working with another client. Looking at the woman she was amazed that not only had Anthony got her to run, but she was smiling whilst doing it. Quite on purpose she came in early for the next session, and sneakily watched her trainer taking a huge weightlifter through his paces. The weightlifter was quiet and attentive and did exactly what Anthony suggested, accepting both his criticism and his praise. Perhaps even she didn't notice it at the time, but something switched on in her head, and Anthony became a very valid prospect. During that training session, she just happened to let slip that she was single. It had been a while, a couple of months, and Anthony, whilst cleanly catching the information thrown his way, could not correlate months of disinterest with this hoped for piece of news. Yes, she was single, presumably available, but would he just be setting himself up for a fall if he asked her out? A date being out of the question, he decided to delve further by finding out where Theresa was going out that weekend, and letting her know that his friends were headed there too. And if they just happened to bump into each other? Straight after the session Anthony called round his mates and invited them all out to where Theresa would be. That weekend they kissed. It might not have been intentional, probably more by accident than design. They were sat together on a sofa in a cool bar, just chatting, but the music meant they had to be close. Theresa wanted Anthony to kiss her. Anthony wanted Theresa to invite him to kiss her. A passing woman gently knocked their knees against each other and as her skirt moved from between their faces they found themselves well within each others' personal comfort zone. Neither stopped moving and their lips closed on each other. Of course, Theresa blamed Anthony for the kiss, and Anthony blamed Theresa, but neither wanted it to stop. They met every day. Anthony usually stayed over at Theresa's place though she did visit his a few times. At first she wondered about her relationship with a personal trainer who still lived like a student, and whilst enjoying the first flushes of a love affair, attempted to quietly maintain alternative possibilities, though she had none active, of course. Sometime during the first few months, and not exactly knowing when, she let those possibilities slip as she discovered that Anthony owned the house, and that the rent was one of his incomes. One which he was investing quite carefully. Theresa would have sworn that it made no difference to her, and maybe she didn't even truly understand it herself, but Anthony's black bank balance allowed her to let herself fall into true and lasting love. Anthony, for his part, fell head over heels with this beautiful marketing director straight away. And, as she became fitter, so their interests began to align and they could spend time running, cycling and on various other sweaty activities. As with any man, he was visual, and the first impression he had of Theresa was of a busty beauty. This was due to her giving up smoking shortly before they met, with the associated weight gain on top of her soft lifestyle. The fitter, slimmer Theresa was still a beauty, but not the same one that fit Anthony's perfect mould. Of course, he didn't notice this straight away, and nor would he have admitted to thinking about it, but he fantasised about changing things. Theresa understood this in as much as she understood any man's base desires, and played along with his fantasies, wearing uplifting bra's to the bedroom, sometimes even her old, larger bras, stuffed with socks, into bed. Right now, with the ring on, she considered Anthony's fantasies and desires, and wondered what she could do with them. It seems we've not really given you much there, dear reader, apart from a simple story of boy meets girl. Are there one or two bits of character that seem flawed? Or are they simply aspects of personality, facets of gender, subjuncts of sexual selection in the species? Perhaps it is time to surprise you. "Anthony, we're going shopping." "Are we? Ah," he sighed, a simple check proving that he was now wearing the unremovable slave ring, "I guess we are going shopping." "First though, let's go to my room." There Theresa quickly rifled through her cupboards and dragged out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and from her drawers she took a bra and panties. "Now," she smiled, "put those on." Anthony felt a shudder, his flesh warped and shifted around him, and suddenly he was wearing an entirely different body. Obeying the command though he dutifully put on the clothes. Once he had finished he went straight over to Theresa's wall mirror to find out what she'd done to him. What he saw surprised him even more than he expected. He was looking at Theresa. He turned around and saw her behind him. He turned back and saw her in the mirror. Finally he clicked that the mirror image was wearing the new clothes that he'd put on. He was Theresa, or her double. "Do you like it?" She asked him. "It's so weird. I don't know what to say." Anthony's new hand shot to his throat. "I sound strange! I don't sound like you!" "I don't think you sound like me either," responded Theresa, "but we probably sound identical to anyone else. We're twins!" "Why?" "Well, because I want to go shopping, and I want to try out a few new looks, so I thought I'd see how they look on you first!" Once in the car, Theresa told Anthony to open the handbag she'd given him. "Oh, by the way, you're Tonya now. You will only respond to the name Tonya, and you will respond as though it has always been your name. I might call you Toni for short, which you will also respond to as though it was your name. Now, you see that packet in the bag?" "Yes." "You made me go out and buy that. Why?" "Because I wanted to test the power of the ring." "Did you want me to start smoking again? Why two?" "I don't know, exactly." Shrugged Tony. "I never saw you smoke but I'm not quite sure whether I want to or not. Sometimes I find it a turn on to think of you addicted to smoking, like there's something you don't have control over. I find that a bit of a turn on, like now, a bit, to be a slave to something. I guess I wondered if two might kick off a little craving, and you'd give in a little. I don't know, I guess I don't understand it really, so I don't really know what I was doing." Theresa smiled. "Okay, I guess you weren't being malicious or anything, I know that." "Hang on, how did you know about the cigarettes anyway?" "You wanted me to forget? Well, you forgot that the commands given to the slave only last as long as the ring is worn. As soon as I took it off, I didn't have to forget anymore. Now, that all gives me an idea. You want to find out if me smoking turns you on, well, you are me, so you can smoke that pack. No, wait, you ought to find out for real what it's like to be a smoker, and then you can have that loss of control that you crave even when I remove the ring. You need to understand that each cigarette gives you a drug rush which your brain associates with whatever you're doing. So, I know, let's start like this. Every time you have a hot drink, like a coffee, or every time you have an alcoholic drink, you'll smoke a cigarette with it. Everytime you have a conversation on the phone, you'll smoke a cigarette during it. Every time you turn on the television, you'll smoke a cigarette. Every time you finish a meal, you'll smoke a cigarette. As soon as possible after you wake up you'll smoke a cigarette, and every time you step outside you'll smoke a cigarette. Lastly, in the absence of any legal or social reason not to, which you will attempt to avoid, you will smoke a cigarette within thirty minutes of finishing the last one." "That's incredibly cruel!" "I don't know. Soon you'll love it, and then I'll see if you can give it up." "What do you mean, soon I'll love it? How long are you going to keep this ring on me? You know as soon as I get it off I'll give it up. Theresa, this isn't fair!" "I hadn't thought about that. It takes ages for it to become a habit, I suppose. But don't cry that it's not fair. You tried to get me smoking again, and you want to understand it. Just forget that I mentioned it." "Where are we going, anyway?" "Well, first stop is the real Marks and Spencers. I need to try out some new bras." Dear reader, to avoid the legacy of confusion that is bound to ensue, let me inform you that our hero, Tony, is now a heroine, Toni, and will be so addressed. Shes, hes, its and shims be damned, a woman is a woman, and will be referred to as such. They parked in the centre of town. Terrie got out of the car and fluffed her hair out. Toni got out of the car and reached into her handbag and drew out the packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Pulling one out she dropped the pack back into the bag and lit it before dropping the lighter back. She took a drag of it, coughed slightly, then blew smoke. Terrie stared at her in fascination. "Toni," she asked, "do you remember the end of our conversation just now?" "You mentioned something, which escapes me at the moment, then you said we were going to Marks and Spencers." "Ah, yes, I said to forget I mentioned it. Not to forget it completely. I understand." Terrie smiled. "That's good!" "What's good?" asked Toni, taking another slow drag. "Nothing." "Terrie?" "Yes." "I've never smoked before, and this tastes awful. Did you order me to try one?" "Toni," grinned Terrie, "don't worry about smoking and don't question it. Enjoy the taste, and enjoy the whole experience. When you get the chance, practise smoking sexily, I want to see that." "Do you? Okay. You know, it is good." With that the twin girls headed down to the shops in the mall below. Terrie has discovered something, hasn't she, dear reader? She has discovered that she can avoid responsibility. Power without responsibility. A system without checks and balances. Terrie went straight to the lingerie section. She dragged Toni straight over to the sections of bras merked as available in DD-G cups. Finding one that she liked the design of she asked Toni's approval. She nodded. "And what size would you like it in?" She asked. Toni paused. "You mean if I could choose one for you? Well, might as well start at the bottom and work up." "I did mean choose one for me. So, shall we take the E, F and G?" They went together into the changing rooms, the assistant not even batting an eye at two identical twins trying on bras together. In the cubicle, Terrie told Toni to get undressed up top. She helped Toni to unclip her 34B bra and wrapped the 34E around her chest. When it was in place she paused and concentrated for just a moment. Toni lurched forwards. "Ow," she yelped. "That felt like you just dropped a couple of bags of water into the bra." She looked down. "Wow. Er, yeah, wow. I guess you did drop a couple of bags into it." She turned and looked into the mirror, posing slightly. "That looks really good." "Not that big though, surely?" asked Terrie. "I mean, I'm quite tall, so they're still within limits." "I guess so," answered Toni, "So why don't you try on the bigger one?" "Nope, not me. That's your job. You're my model. My doll, sort of. This really is fun! Look, get that one off and we'll jump straight to the G." The difference was striking. Grapefruits expanded into melons. Toni lurched forward once again, putting two hands either side of the mirror to catch herself. "Wow!" she stammered, looking down at the reflection being thrust into her face. "Wow." "Stand up straight," Terrie prompted. Toni found herself having to lean back very slightly to stand comfortably. Terrie looked around. "Slip the t-shirt back on for a moment." Toni did so, and they both inspected the large, round shapes pushing the shirt out. "They're big," stated Toni. "They are, aren't they? But for you, thinking as a guy, are they big enough?" wondered Terrie. "They're big enough. Really, Theresa, they're heavy. I'm quite off balance here." "Yes, I know, I know they are, but I'm not on about whether they're big for you as a girl, whether they're physically big. I'm on about whether they're big for you as a guy. Looking at them." Terrie paused. "I think you once mentioned sex-object boobs. Boobs that are big enough to make everyone think that their owner is simply a sex-object. Boobs that are the centre of everyone's attention, the centre of the girl's world. What you have there aren't even Jordan sized, and because they're natural they can be flattened by a minimiser. Get the t-shirt off again and try this one on." Terrie brought out a 36G from behind her back and waited for Toni to undress before handing it to her. "Thirty-six is hardly bigger than thirty-four," queried Toni, catching sight of the label. "How little you know," smiled Terrie. "That two inches is two extra cup sizes. M&S bra sizing is a little weird anyway, as they don't do double digits after a double D, so an F is a double E, and a G is really an F anyway. But the real difference is the volume. Two cup sizes is two extra inches measurement around your chest, but that means two inches outwards in every direction when transalated onto your breasts." "Oh, I see." Toni's engineer brain kicked into overdrive. "They're hemispheres, really, and each one grows by an inch in radius per cup size. A sphere is two hemispheres, and that's 4/3 pi r cubed. Call it four times the cube of the radius volume growth, and an A cup is about four cubic inches, going to a B cup which would be 32 cubic inches, then C cup is like 108 cubic inches - that can't be right!" "No, I don't think it is right, but your figures there give you an idea of the volume expansion. Anyway, now that you've got it on, get ready." Terrie concentrated momentarily on expanding the melons in front of her until they filled the cups of the larger bra. Toni gasped. "They're huge!" "Oh, good. That's the size I was aiming for." Toni looked in the mirror at the footballs stuck to her chest. "I can't carry these!" she gasped. Terrie thought for a moment, and then made some adjustments to Toni's physique. She saw the effects as Toni straightened up and lifted up her chest. Terrie had strengthened her legs, back and shoulders, ensuring that she balanced her changes across the body. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she would give Anthony his fantasy one day, as it was so easy to work around all the difficulties. But first, she thought, clothes. What would she need to buy, and for what occasions? They left M&S with a couple of bras, and a large bag of t-shirts, blouses and other various tops. Toni lit up as soon as they stepped outside. Terrie just smiled again. Walking down the street she could see the gapes and stares of men and women as they caught sight of Toni. There was no doubt that 34G, a proper G, bigger than Jordan's FF, was too big for the slim woman carrying that bust. Toni's breasts, and her vast cleavage, stood out a mile, and no man could avoid them. Terrie liked that, and realised that she could enjoy having that shape, though it remained to see what the rest of the day would be like. Thinking about later in the evening, Terrie decided that clubbing was in order, and for that she needed to take Toni through some shops she hadn't been in for a few years. She steered the hapless doll into Oasis. Just one thing bugged Terrie about Oasis, and that was the fact that it was for young girls. Teens to early twenties. Toni pointed it out straight away as they headed for the door. It made Terrie pause. But only for a moment. A very sneaky thought crossed her mind and she decided to try something out. Toni felt a shiver pass through her and immediately knew that something had changed, but she couldn't see what. She turned to Terrie with a question on her face. Terrie spoke first. "You will call me 'Mum'. Not Theresa or Tess or anything like that." She giggled slightly. "I've made you about fifteen, though you could fairly obviously pass for older." "Isn't that going a bit far?" Toni queried. "We could have just shopped in there anyway." "I'm shopping for you anyway, and strangely it makes me feel good to be shopping for my daughter. Just go along with it! Oh, and if you should happen to pick up anything teen, you know, like words, phrases, fashion, stuff like that, start using it as though you've always done it." "I had a feeling you'd say something like that. Now I guess I'm going to become a teenaged girl pretty quickly, whether I want to or not." "You got it, girl! Hell, this is so much fun!!" "I'm glad you're enjoying it, mum!" Toni responded as they walked through the door. Yes, dear reader, from fit, physical, attractive male, to fit, physical, attractive female. Or perhaps from adult to youth, with just a simple gender change. Independent to dependent, willful to unwilled. Determined to doll-like. But that is the obvious one of the pair, what of the other's growth and change. Playing with dolls itself is surely the province of a little girl, symbolic of immaturity. As one has become physically immature, has the other mentally retreated? I begin to wonder whether the damage is reversible. A path leading up a hill is so much easier to return on than the one leading down. There were clothes from Oasis and Wardrobe, shoes and boots from Faith, and an entire handbag full of makeup from Boots, where Toni had to sit quietly to have her face professionally painted. Terrie saw a young girl walking past in a group and suddenly Toni's hair was shaped in the same style, and streaked through with the same colours and highlights. The two women, similar as they were, now looked entirely different. They looked like mother and daughter, though it was hard to imagine Terrie being old enough to have Toni as a daughter. Toni was wearing heels two inches higher than Terrie's, clothes that belonged on a teenager, and wildly different makeup and hair. Terrie had told her to touch up her lipstick every time she spent time in a bathroom. They ate at a fast food joint, and Terrie made sure that her daughter preferred the easier foods available, such as chocolate rather than fruit, and a burger or pasta rather than waiting for something more substantial. Somewhere along the line Terrie had decided to turn Toni into the perfect teenager, realising that a daughter was even more dependent upon her than a sister, and that somehow made everything more fun. By the time the night approached, Toni had read through a couple of teen magazines, and was beginning to enter into character. They headed for home to dump their stuff and get ready for a night on the town. The night began with Terrie getting Toni dressed and doing her makeup. Whilst doing so she told Toni to investigate makeup and fashion whenever possible, and to practise making herself up for at least half an hour every morning and night. Toni immediately asked why she would need to practise day and night if she was going to change back soon. Terrie smiled. "I've decided to keep you like this for a little while, Toni, at least until you're a smoker." Toni looked slightly questioningly at Terrie, then the moment passed. "It's been fun being you, but I don't feel right about it at all. I've enjoyed it, and even," and here Toni lowered her voice slightly, "found it a bit of a turn-on. But it's not me. I want to kiss you and other things. Can you turn me back now?" Terrie paused for a moment. "I'm having a few days of fun with this, Toni. I do want you back, and I know I'll miss you soon, but you're still with me now, and I'm having the opportunity to have you as my sister, girlfriend, and daughter. What could be bad about that?" "Will you kiss me while I'm like this?" "Ew, of course not!" "That 'Ew' is how I feel all the time about being like this. You can tell me to act like I'm having a good time, but I don't feel like it underneath, whatever shows. I know there are some things I do that you've somehow made me think are natural, and I know that because I can't imagine doing them as a male. I don't mind too much, because everything gets reset when the ring comes off, but please, can we end this soon?" "Oh, Toni. I see what you mean. I didn't think properly about what you're going through, but I know you're learning too, and this will all help us afterwards. You know, if you can survive a few situations that I put you into, I'll gladly look just like that when this is over. Will you do that for me? Like a test run of the body you'd love me to have?" "You know I will, Terrie, though I'd rather have some choice in some things." Toni reached for her cigarettes and lit one. "You know," said Terrie, "I think I will have one of those." That night started in a restaurant, moved on to a bar, and then the girls found themselves in a club. Both were really quite drunk when they started dancing, and Terrie quickly realised that Toni was trying to dance with her, which wasn't what she wanted at all. She took her aside into the toilets and laid down the law. She told her to act like a girl, not a guy, dance with attractive guys if they asked her, take drugs if she was offered them, and generally have the night out a teenage girl would have. Of course, the guys were all over Toni, crowding round her, pawing her, and taking every opportunity to dance with her. Toni took an opportunity to step outside for a cigarette and Terrie went to the toilet. When she came back, Toni was nowhere to be seen. She searched outside and in again, back through the toilets, and then finally left the club an hour later. She called Toni's mobile, but there was no answer. Finally she headed for home. Toni wasn't there. Exhausted, Terrie slumped into a drunken sleep. Toni had taken MDMA as soon as it was offered her. By the time she stepped outside she was feeling like she couldn't stop dancing and started chatting to all the girls outside about how wonderful the club was. They knew somewhere better, and were just about to head over there, so Toni joined them, feeling right to be with a group of young girls partying the night away. The next club was a cellar, and in the dim light two slim black guys immediately latched onto Toni, dancing around her and stroking their hands all over her. She found them very attractive, found herself compelled to dance with them, and loved the attention she was getting. She took the two pills that one slipped into her hand and moments later felt her body get warm as the music seemed to slow down and the lights danced beautiful patterns across her brain. She was being kissed and it felt electric, better than it should, wrong somehow, but so good. She needed air, and the two beautiful men hugged her as they walked out and lit her cigarette as she dragged the sweet, syrupy smoke into her lungs. She looked down at her chest at the hand rubbing over it and wondered why she had such huge breasts. She kept staring at them in the taxi, and couldn't figure how the electric feelings of the fingers rubbing over her nipples were coming from so far away from her. They crashed out of the taxi and into a house, where Toni couldn't get over the line of coke laid out for her the length of the coffee table. She giggled as she snorted it. Giggled! Things started to come into focus for her. She understood where she was, and then realised that she was alone with two black guys, in their house, somewhere. Alone with them, and feeling absolutely amazing. There was only one more thing that she felt compelled to do to fully have the night out a teenage girl should have. She started by facing the two guys and pulling her dress down to her ankles and stepping out of it, tempting them to complete her night for her. Fortunately, perhaps, not much later, she passed out. Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear. Reader, reader, reader. Compounding and confounding. Whose fault do you think? Really, now, consider carefully. A simple command to have the night out a teenaged girl would have. To a teenaged girl, that might be dancing, flirting, and sneaking home late with friends. A more masculine mind might impart their own fantasy of the desires of a young, beautiful girl. Even a healthy male mind might suppose girls want the same good time as them, or might at least wish for it. Toni woke very early, with an incredibly dry throat. She almost leapt up, and immediately found herself completely disoriented. Lost. She was sitting on a sofa with a duvet over her legs. She didn't know where she was. As she looked around her, and lookng down caught sight of the large mounds of flesh flopping down heavily from her chest, completely blocking sight of her lap, she didn't know who she was. She spotted a bag, her bag, pulled out a cigarette, and in a moment the soft, blue smoke was calming her, straightening out her brain. She spotted a bra and knickers, her bra and knickers on top of a mound of black cloth that might just be her clothes. A pair of high heeled shoes lay discarded next to a coffee table. In the absence of any other shoes she figured they might be hers. More than that, she felt a mild pull towards them, a desire to put them on that she couldn't find a source for. "Fuck," she sighed loudly, and looked down at her ring finger to find the slave ring still securely attached. Resigning herself to last night's clothing she stood up, and felt an odd feeling in her crotch followed by a trickle running down the insides of both her legs. She wiped herself with the corner of the duvet. She contracted her vaginal muscles instinctively and unconsciously, resulting in a glob of white goop being deposited on the blanket. Thinking little of it she proceeded to get dressed. She drank a pint of water, used the downstairs toilet, and let herself quietly out of the house. She paused, lit up, paused again to straighten herself out, then decided to head left out of the gate. Within minutes she had found the end of the street, the street's name on a sign, and her bearings. She dialled up a local taxi number on her mobile, and arranged to be met at the local petrol station where she stocked up on cash and cigarettes. She was getting used to the fact that every time she stepped outside she lit up, which was fine whilst waiting outside the petrol station again for the cab, but weird outside the cab when there were only ten yards walk to the door. But she didn't worry about it. She went quietly in and quietly up the stairs to her room. Feeling the impact of little sleep, a large comedown, a huge, growing hangover, and the exertions of the night before she crashed onto her bed and rolled herself up in her duvet. She was woken about midday by the dulcet tones of her mobile. She reached across to her bag and pulled it out, putting it to her ear. "Yes?" It was a bit of a shock to feel that her voice, while hoarse, was very high pitched. Pushing aside her long, blonde locks reminded her of her situation once more. "Toni, thank God, where are you?" Toni raised her head up and looked around. "Home. My home." "Oh, thank God. I was so worried, when I didn't find you here. Well, I guessed you were there, but I needed to know." Toni found her bag again, and fished out her pack. She looked for an ashtray, but could only find an old karting trophy. It would do. Terrie continued. "So where did you get to last night?" "I got caught up with a group of girls. They invited me to another club and I couldn't find you on the way out. I figured you'd headed home." The slight white lies were easy. "I spent a while looking for you before I did. Why didn't you come here?" "I guess I was on autopilot." Terrie chatted for a while about the night before, and Toni joined in the conversation on occassion. Eventually Terrie wrapped up. "Listen, I've got to go shopping for some food, and then spend a couple of hours on a document. Would you come round later?" "Sure. Oh, you'll have to pick me up. My car's over your place." "'Course. I'll call when I get there." Toni couldn't really avoid going back to sleep. When she next woke it was about two in the afternoon. Someone was knocking on the door. She shouted "Yes!" without thinking. "Sorry," came back the reply. "I was wondering if Ant was in." Toni thought as quickly as the brain fog would allow. It was Andy at the door, and he didn't know Anthony that well. Probably looking to delay his rent payment. "He's over at Mum's." Ouch! That didn't come out right. She'd meant to say Terrie's. "And you are?" "His sister, Tonya." "Oh, okay. Can you tell him I'm looking for him?" "Sure." She had a shower in her ensuite and got dressed, in yesterday's clothes. She spent a good time on her makeup, trying hard to repair the damage the night had done. She packed her stuff and got herself ready to leave as soon as Terrie called, if not sooner. The house would soon be getting busy with the occupants getting ready to go out for the night, and Toni didn't want to have to answer too many questions. That, and, she admitted to herself, she didn't really want to be seen if she couldn't help it. It was embarassing enough to be in a girl's body, without the fact that the amount of flesh on her chest tilted the scales past embarassing and into the realms of rude. She did think a little about the night before, but nothing further came back to her. She knew something had happened, and she could figure out what, but she couldn't find herself getting too concerned about it. After all, the last time she could remember having a one-night stand she couldn't remember much of the night or the girl she'd slept with. Funny, it seemed such a long time ago that she was Anthony, but it was only yesterday that this had all started. How much had changed? Terrie called. Toni was already out on the street, smoking as she paced the cobbles a few doors down from her own house. She'd only been outside a few minutes and had been beeped, whistled or yelled to no less than five times. She had looked through her shirts, jackets and pullovers in her room but nothing seemed 'Teen' so she ignored it all. A hooded sweatshirt that might have been a success didn't go with the dress and heels. So she was outside in her clubbing getup, with nothing hiding her assets. Terrie finally pulled up and took her in. "How are you, Toni?" asked Terrie as she drove away. "I'm okay, I guess, Mum." Toni paused. "Mum. Mum. Mum." Then finally, "Argh! Mum, can you please stop this thing where I have to call you Mum!?" Terrie smiled at Toni's dilemma. "I love these rings!" she said. "Anyway, no, not yet. I like it. In fact, I've been wondering what to do with you since I'm hoping you'll stay like this for a little while. Obviously you're going to have to write an apology to your personal training clients. I've already done that, and printed the envelopes off from your database, so you can spend the afternoon signing and sending them." "What!?" "Now, now, darling! I've put in the letter that it's just a temporary thing. You're taking a holiday, that's all." "A week?" "A few weeks." "I won't have any clients left!" "Look, I'm getting you some new training." "With no clients it's not going to help!" Toni snarled. Terrie reddened. "Right, my new little girl, I've had enough of this discussion and you are going to do what I tell you. Forget any ideas you ever had about being a fitness instructor or a personal trainer or anything like that. I called in a favour from an old friend and you're going to be joining a course that's just started so you'll have to play catch up. And you will catch up. It's a full time course, and whilst you're on it you will devote yourself to being the best at it and learning as much as you possibly can on the subject. You will also do everything you can to fit in with your fellow students and make friends. You will associate with the teenagers, you will speak like them, dress like them and join in with them as though they were your best friends. You will not be clever Anthony at all, in fact, I want you to forget anything you learned in school lessons, anything at all. You can forget that you even went to university, or anything after that. Now, as I know you are a teenager at the moment, I'm not going to stop you having these little fits of pique, but you'd better be a little bit careful or this might happen again, or worse. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mum," replied a completely despondent Toni. Is there anything our hero can do? Does it not appear, dear reader, that our heroine has gone off the rails rather? What could have inspired this petty course of action? Something in our heroine's past? I'm sure Freud would have furnished a famous answer. So again, I ask, is there anything our hero can do? Emasculated, disempowered, de- educated. Packaged in a fantasy body and left to the lust of the lions. I believe, at the very least that Toni is aware that the direct approach is not working. Perhaps it is time to stoop to a lower level? Two weeks passed. At first, Toni found that her missing knowledge was like a hole in the head, but it didn't take long for her to realise that her fellow students weren't exactly the sharpest knives in the block, and that her voracious appetite for teen magazines was furnishing her with plenty of conversational material at exactly the right level. She did study hard and learn hard too, even though she found the content of a NVQ in Beauty Therapy to be quite uninspiring. What was inspiring was her relationship with one of the girls, Abby, who was not only a very attractive brunette, but also appeared to be slightly more than friendly at times, and shy at others. Toni might not have been a girl for very long, but she'd had a lot of experience with them, and in the absence of the attentions of her supposed girlfriend, she could easily look for some more. Terrie was eyeing her strangely sometimes at home. As though she expected her to say something, or ask something, but Toni was beyond talking to Terrie except for the barest niceties and any requests for cash. After four weeks, Toni was talking like she'd always been a local kid, and could barely stay off the phone when she was home. Terrie smiled to herself as she watched her teenaged daughter hanging out, smoking, swearing, and shouting after boys, who generally shouted right back at her. She'd gone a bit grunge, managing to cover slightly her large assets, but they were still a target for any male in the area. Terrie wondered, was it time yet? Toni was a bit focussed on one pretty girl, Abby. Was he still thinking about girls? That would have to change, but one thing puzzled her. Why hadn't Toni run to her for help with her period? Or was it because she'd managed it herself. She decided to give it another couple of weeks, and then broach the subject with her. But in the meantime, should she make sure Toni got interested in boys? Toni, meanwhile, was racing ahead in her course. She had Anthony's natural intelligence still, acting under the command to learn everything she could about beauty therapy. Added to that she was still practising her own makeup and beauty for an hour a day, and picking up all she could about teen fashion, hair, makeup and diet, it was no wonder she was already the perfect teen. Because of her performance on the course, she was approached by the Senior Tutor who told her that she would be writing to her mother with the recommendation that she study something alongside her present course, either more advanced or complementary. Terrie got the letter the next day and immediatly phoned back to the college. By the time Toni reached college, the senior tutor was waiting for her once more with her new timetable. The NVQ in Hairdressing overlapped somewhat with Beauty Therapy, but the pressure of attending classes on both courses meant that Toni would have to stay after hours some days to do the practical hairdressing work. Toni had only had thirty seconds to absorb her new workload before her phone rang. It was Terrie. "Toni," she ordered, "you're going to study your new lessons as hard as you study your existing courses. You will put all your effort into learning as much as you can on your courses during your timetabled hours. You will also pay attention to anything that you happen to pick up outside of hours that may help your studies." "Mum," queried Toni, "why do you want me to learn all of this stuff?" "I guess I want you to have the same opportunities I had, and see where you manage to get to. Can a busty blonde girl with little education except that which busty blonde girls do really make it in the world if they have a man's brain? It's an experiment. And, I suppose, I'm starting to think of you as the daughter I almost had. Would have had if it wasn't for orders from my mother. I like having a daughter who depends on me and is learning where I once was, and I can go out with. Also, I always wondered what would have happened if I'd gone to college instead of on the dole, so I'm finding out." "These courses are a year for the basics, two years for the advanced levels, Mum." "I know." After six weeks Terrie knocked on the door to Toni's bedroom. "You can't come in, Mum. Hang on!" Two seconds later Toni stepped out of her room. Terrie stepped back slightly from the stale smell that came through the door. "Toni, would you come sit downstairs with me? I've got tea waiting." They stepped downstairs and sat in the lounge. "Toni," began Terrie, "it's time to talk to you about boys." "Boys?" "Yes, boys. It's time you started looking for a boyfriend." "Mum," explained Toni, slightly nervously, "you can make me go out with a boy, you know that, but I'll never want to, underneath, I mean. Sure, you can order me to do stuff, but underneath I'll really hate it and be disgusted. I might break. I've been feeling it anyway, recently, really rough, always about to cry, and I think it's gone too far." Toni began to cry at that moment. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, but anything else, anything like that, might kill me." Terrie was amazed. She sat in silence for a minute. She watched the girl that she thought of as her daughter weeping gently. She realized that she instinctively thought of her boyfriend as a girl, and couldn't picture her boyfriend anywhere at all. Perhaps it was time to stop inflicting this experiment upon him, but there were just those couple more things she wanted to see him experience. Maybe, with more time to settle into being a girl it wouldn't be such a blow to start seeing boys? The other thing, being inevitable, was perhaps where she should start for now. "Look, Toni, honey, I'm just concerned about you. You are very attractive and you're open to offers, but you still haven't learned everything there is about being a girl. Forget boys for now, let's just make sure you know about women's problems." Toni looked up. "You mean periods?" "Yes, periods." "Oh, I thought you'd made it so I didn't have to have periods." "Hang on, honey, does that mean you haven't had a period?" "Not that I know of." "You'd certainly know about it if you had. Look, I'm guessing that physically you should have started at about the same point as me, so you should have had a period when I did, about a month ago. I'm just about to have another one now, so I was thinking you would be too. Maybe because I made you younger, something happened. Maybe you did have a really light period a month ago and didn't notice. "I'll give you these pads to keep in your room." Terrie handed over a box of pads. "Now, if you do get any blood down below, tell me straight away. If there's nothing in another couple of weeks, we're going to see the doctor." Toni sat through another class on nailcare. She was an expert on filing and shaping nails, applying and removing polish, and dealing with cuticles. This practical class was on the application of false nails, and as with any other class, she had to make every effort to learn and understand about the application of and caring for false nails. She didn't like Donna, her partner for the practical, that much, but she'd volunteered to sit with her because Donna was already working as a nail technician, and should fly this part of the course. Donna was older, and tried to lord it over the younger girls a bit. Toni didn't like her for this, but mostly they simply didn't associate. For her part, Donna didn't like Toni for many reasons, but she certainly didn't appreciate the fact that Toni was the best student on the course. Toni might have managed to override her impulse to learn from Donna had she realised just how bitchy the woman was. All the false nails laid out for practice were an inch long. Dramatic, but easy to handle for the students. Donna did Toni's nails first, and chatted pleasantly with her while she first manicured, cleansed and degreased then carefully glued all ten nails. She had spent the lesson filing them down a little with her own file, a diamond dusted one that was the only thing that would file falsies without damaging them, so that when they were applied they didn't have too much of the rise that made them look obvious as falsies. She did an excellent job, and then painted over the new nails in a dramatic bright red. Toni then did Donna's nails, attempting to emulate as much of what Donna did as possible, including the banter. This was a lot more difficult while wearing nails that extended a half-inch past her fingertips, much longer than her own nails. Picking up the falsies she needed to apply from the table was an exercise in patience, and the new nails hid what she was doing somewhat. The result on Donna's hands was less than excellent. A reasonable job given the circumstances. Donna looked down and smiled. "Don't worry," she said to Toni, "I'll let you try again." She picked up the acetone that would quickly dissolve the temporary glue on her fingers and handed the falsies back for another go. Toni spent another twenty minutes the second time round and still couldn't sort out a good job with her own falsies getting in the way. Five minutes past the end of the class Donna picked up the acetone again and smiled at Toni as she removed the nails. "It's a lot harder to get top marks like that, isn't it?" Toni looked up at her and caught the end of a smirk. Donna put the acetone back down on the table and walked out of the studio to join the other students headed for home. Toni took the bottle and a few pieces of cotton wool and set to work. A few minutes later she'd destroyed the varnish on the tops of the falsies but they themselves were still stuck firmly to her fingertips. She called over the instructor and asked her for help. After another minute the woman began to frown. She reached for Toni's glue bottle and gave it a sniff. Then she reached for Donna's bottle and sniffed that. She sniffed again, then she frowned. "This is permanent hold glue. How long have you been wearing the falsies?" "I don't know," replied Toni. "Donna did mine first, then I tried hers twice." "Probably about forty five minutes. No wonder the acetone isn't helping. You've got them bonded with the nail now. The stronger solvents might soften your own nails or even burn the fingers." "Donna, the fucking bitch!" Toni growled. "Now," said the instructor in an authoritative tone, "it could have been an innocent mistake." "No, she was smirking as she left. She set this up!" "Toni, don't go accusing people. It could have been the technician's mistake. If you want you can cut them with large paper scissors, then you can file them down with a metal file if you're not concerned about the way they look. My advice, Donna's done a good job with those. You might consider keeping them. Here, while you think, I'll redo the varnish for you." Everything was more difficult with the false nails. It took Toni an age to fish herself a cigarette out of her bag after she stepped out on the way home. She was gasping by the time she lit it. The girls at the bus stop loved the nails though, and a few of them, despite the impracticality, were going to ask Donna to do theirs too. Toni was confused by the time she got home. Her friends and other girls loved the nails, but they would be difficult to use, making it more difficult to do the practical parts of her course and therefore not helping her to be the best. Wryly, Toni knew she couldn't go to Terrie for answers, as the choice would then be taken out of her hands, literally. The optimum solution, which she decided to go with, was to keep the nails and practise being as good with them as without. She looked at herself in her room mirror. She placed her hands over her breasts and looked at the large red nails standing out in sharp contrast to her black blouse, which itself showed two large circles in outline, surrounding her hands, as she squeezed them against her chest. Her straight black and blonde hair spilled out gently over the tops of the mounds. Her perfectly made face smiled gently and innocently overlooking it all. The view in the mirror was turning her on. Apart from a slight tingling of the nipples under her hands, and slight butterflies in her stomach, the lack of physical response was disconcerting. She sighed, well aware that she was looking at one of the sexiest girls she'd ever seen, slightly dampened by how young the girl was, and frustrated by her lack of response when she knew she should be feeling a large hard-on right now. Toni thought of herself as a girl. There was little else she could do. Terrie had made sure that everything she did was related to being a girl, and consistently reinforced the fact that she was a girl. Toni had never really thought about being a girl, and didn't imagine that being a girl was all that different to being a boy. Beauty Therapy for example, Toni actually enjoyed that. He had been resistant at first, even though he had to give the studies his all, but then found that the preciseness of it, the attempt to achieve perfection with the materials given, appealed to his nature. Even though it was working with makeup rather than cement or paint, and nail files not sledgehammers, it filled a void that needed filling. She knew she'd done stuff with materials before, when she was a he, but couldn't remember what. She couldn't imagine it was what she was doing now, more like building, or mechanics, something more manly. Other aspects of the course, related to health, nutrition and exercise also appealed to her. She knew she was interested in it, but couldn't remember from where. She was sure that she'd worked in a gym when she was Anthony, but couldn't remember learning anything about it. Maybe she just attended a gym to keep fit. The past was really fuzzy and broken. There were things there that she dreamed about, but she couldn't bring them to mind when she tried. Couldn't even try sometimes. The fact was Toni could remember growing up as a boy, knew that she was an adult male called Anthony when Theresa had got hold of the master ring, but the clearest memories she had were of the last few months of being a teenaged girl. Months, was it really that long? She knew that she owned a house, and where it was, and who lived in it, but she couldn't remember where she was when she bought it. Without hooks like that, all associated memories became fuzzy and unreal. She wasn't sure what was fact and what was imagined. Toni was certain she wanted to return to being Anthony, was certain that Anthony was who she was, but remembering so little about her life as Anthony, she wasn't sure why she wanted to return. Terrie had taken all her roots away from her. One other thing was certain in Toni's mind, Theresa was going to pay for all this. Alack and alas, dear reader, Toni appears marooned in girldom, with only his sexuality to present him a lifeline. Is being a girl really that similar to being a boy? Surely there are hormones and emotions, but would you note the difference if you were awash in them. There are breasts, and huge ones, and hair and face and legs, but our Toni notices all this, with the eye of an observer. Maybe she is detached from her phusicality, even as she's more engaged with it now than she was as a male. Perhaps the daily dressing, makeup, brushing, beautification, et al. gives our heroine a physical closeness to herself that is in fact numbing. Sex she can't remember, and sexuality might be worrisome if she acted on it. I think we see, don't we, that our heroine's life is a little too feminine, too cosseted and protected to provide any real experience of womanhood. Should she wish for those experiences, dear reader? Should she ask to be placed in those situations that confirm her as a member of the weaker sex, be they associated with weakness, or sex, or both? Terrie watched Toni sitting out on the front wall with her friends before they set off for college. She was part of the gang, if not the leader, the most teen of all of the teens. And the most girl of all of the girls. Terrie wondered why she took so much pleasure in seeing her that way. It was easy, financially the income from Anthony's house supported Terrie in paying for Toni. College occupied her all weekday and her friends all evening and weekend. Terrie had no doubt that Toni was out drinking and partying with her friends most weekends, and she expected it as what a teenage girl would do. What she would have liked from her daughter was just a little more closeness with her mother, but maybe teenagers really didn't want that. She thought of Anthony, and her closeness with him. She was beginning to miss him, as she saw him gradually disappear from Toni. She knew that she had done it, though she wasn't sure why. She fingered the ring on her finger, but through force of habit she kept it there. She knew that if she took it off all her hard work would be undone, but what was all that hard work for? At first it was a joke, maybe even slightly a punishment or a lesson or something. Make the man into a woman so that he would experience it. Some things were bitchy, like getting him to smoke. She knew that, but that would teach him a good le