Ravage Revenge
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Joanna's Revenge free porn video
Joanna's Revenge.
I returned from Saint Lucia minus Gordon, my husband of little over a
week. I was of two minds. I had loved Gordon for what he had done for
me, but his over possessiveness and jealousy and his resort to violence
had frightened me. His accidental fall took some getting over and I
remained in shock for weeks after my return. I attended the solicitor
and found there was no will. As Gordon's wife, I was entitled to his
estate as next of kin but I had to await probate which would take
months.
I drove Gordon's Mercedes to the firm and spoke to Jim Munnings his
right hand man. Jim was prepared to run the firm until such time as I
could either take the reins of find another manager. What I had in mind
was to manage myself, but to pay Jim more money and benefits to take
more of the burden.
With that done, I at least had a source of income until the estate was
in my name. I decided to get rid of the showy Mercedes and get
something less obvious. I ended up with a Jaguar, the smallest model
but with every conceivable extra.
As I drove into the drive with my new car, I was surprised to find a
man staring through my downstairs front window, with his right foot in
my flower bed.
"Can I help you?" I asked, almost seething with anger.
"You'll be the widow, I take it." He produced a card which proclaimed
he was from a well known Press Agency.
Only I've just come back from St. Lucia and while I was there, I heard
about the sad death of your husband. My commiserations, Joanna isn't
it?"
"Yes. Can I ask what business is it of yours?"
"Well, you see Joanna, everything is our business, in the media you
know, and as this is a human interest story, husband dies tragically on
honeymoon, you know the sort of thing, I thought I ought to report it
as nothing has yet appeared in the British media. But I thought it only
right to talk to you the grieving widow first."
"Thank you. Look I really don't want anything in the press. As you can
imagine, it has all been traumatic and I am only just finding my feet."
I saw a little smirk cross his face. "I can imagine, it must have been
awful coming home alone to all this." He indicated the house and car.
"But we have to print something so it might be better if I did it
tastefully rather than some gutter snipe from the Daily Rag makes a
hash of it."
I retrieved my handbag from the rear seat of the car and tried to
think. I saw before me, a small man of about five feet eight inches,
dark hair and clean shaven. He spoke with a rather high whiney
Northern accent. He wore a rather effeminate ring on his left pinky.
"Would you come in?" I said.
"Oh thank you, Joanna."
"Tea?" I asked.
"Perfect, thank you, milk and two sugars, for me."
He followed me into the kitchen and I sat him down at the kitchen
table. I put the kettle on and clattered the cups and saucers, giving
myself more time to think. I produce a packet of assorted biscuits and
fed the animals and let them out into the garden.
I poured the tea and prepared myself for his questions.
"What can I tell you?"
"Well, how long had you been married?"
I told him, said we had had a quickie wedding at the Register Office,
and that we had been living together for nearly a year.
"So how did you meet?"
"Through work, he was a customer of my company."
"Of course, you used to be a man then?"
I went hot.. It was not something I wished known, nor something I
wanted to be reminded of. I told him so.
"I know its not easy for you but well, it is human interest. And people
are much more understanding about this sort of thing these days. Its
nothing to be ashamed of anymore is it?"
"No it isn't. What does your editor say about that?"
"I am freelance. We independent reporters keep these things close to
our chests or someone poaches the story."
I looked at his card again. "So, Mr Everard, may I ask if you are
married?"
"Call me James please. No Joanna. I see you are turning the tables on
me. No family at all, brought up in a foster home and I'm thankful for
that. My birth parents were awful and I was glad to leave them when I
was ten."
"How would you feel if your past were plastered all over the news?"
"I know, I know. It is unfair, but we have to make a living and yours
is a good story."
"May I ask you to say nothing for forty-eight hours and in return I
will give you exclusivity. I need that time to warn my family and to
collect my thoughts. You will understand that like everyone, I value my
privacy, but that applies especially in my case."
"And then you tell me your whole story?"
"That's the deal, but I expect a sympathetic story."
"OK. It is a deal."
After he had left I got to work. I went to my old bedroom, where I had
been first imprisoned by Gordon. I found in a drawer, all the chains
and penis bands that he had used. I also knew we still had amounts of
tranquiliser and hormone pills which I had deserted in favour of
patches. I checked the door lock and then turned to the window, which
was still screwed shut.
The next morning I paid a visit to the sex shop in Blackpool and
purchased a few items. Then I went to a ships chandler and bought some
tackle. I spent the rest of the day arranging things for James
Everard's reception. It was midnight before I showered and put on my
silk nightie.
I was up at eight next morning, my stomach fluttering. Once I started
down this path, there could be no turning back.
James Everard arrived at three. We sat in the kitchen and drank our
tea. I don't know if I had put in too much but he was soon spouting
complete nonsense and trying desperately to remain upright. I smiled
charmingly at him and asked if he would like to lie down. He nodded.
With considerable difficulty I helped him up to his room. I laid him on
the bed and gave him a glass of water with another shot of
tranquilizer. He was soon asleep. I did not bother to take his clothes
off, simple took scissors and cut them off him. Then I fixed the ball
and penis rings and attached that to the chain. I dressed him in a
delightfully frilly nightdress, nappy and plastic pants. I plucked his
eyebrows to a nice feminine shape, most important for a girl. I
arranged him in a number of seductive poses and photographed them. Then
I put the mask on, a leather contraption that laced tight. It had eye
and nose holes and prongs which fitted inside his mouth which kept it
open. I then handcuffed him and put on his leg irons.
I went outside and got into his car. I drove it to a long deserted barn
out on the moor, then walked home in the dusk.
As I entered I heard muffled speech. He was obviously awake. I ignored
his noise and printed out the photos on A4 paper
I unlocked the bedroom and entered. Ignoring him, I Blue Tac the photos
to the wall where he could see them. I sat by the bedside and took his
hand. "There Jemima, don't be afraid. You can earn your freedom but you
have to learn to obey me. Each time you agree to obey, I will reward
you. The first thing is that you do not shout out. Do you agree not
to?" He moaned and I could not decide if that was agreement. "If you
agree, thumbs up," he agreed.
"I will remove the horrid mask as your reward." I removed it, carefully
and he gasped in relief.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"You are going to determine your own fate. You came here with no
thought for me, my loss, my privacy, my family's privacy and all so you
could make money from my delicate position and my bereavement. I
thought you should find out what fame is like, I have photos of you
dressed as a baby girl with a rather lovely dummy in your mouth. You
cannot feel because of the handcuffs, but you have a ring round your
penis and another around your testicles connected to a chain which
tethers you. I tell you this so that you do not try anything desperate
which would end up castrating you. All these restraints can be removed
if you behave."
"Why am I dressed like a baby?"
"Because you need to be re-educated. This male air of superiority has
to be eradicated, so I am taking you back to baby hood. Try not to soil
your nappy. You may ring that bell and I will help you to the
lavatory. Now I will leave you to reflect on your wickedness."
"Please, don't leave me like this."
"Be a good baby and I will bring baby some food."
In half an hour I returned with a large portion of baby chicken dinner
and baby chocolate pudding. I spooned it into his mouth, wiping up any
that strayed out side his lips and spooning it back into his baby
mouth. Then I wiped his baby face. Then I spat on my hankie like
mothers do and wiped his lips again.
"Can I go to the toilet please?"
"You are a good girl Jemima. I will help you." I attached his manacles
to the hook suspended from the ceiling, then undid the leg irons and
released him from the nappy. I hauled on the rope and he sat up, his
hands pulled by the block and tackle towards the ceiling. I released
one hand which he would need for his ablutions.
"Do you like your penis and scrotum ring?"
"I want you to let me go. I promise to drop the story."
"You are not re-educated yet. Now go to the en suite and do what you
have to do."
I allowed him rope to move and listened while he farted and evacuated
his bowels.
He reappeared. I noticed that he was now erect, his member protruding
under the baby nightie.
"You seem to like being tethered. Did you know you had masochistic
tendencies Jemima?"
He blushed almost crimson. "I can't help it, I am so ashamed," he
blurted.
"Do I have to handcuff you or do you promise to be good?"
"I'll be good."
"Tell me, what is your name?"
"James Everard."
"Ah, then I will have to cuff you. I am now going to paddle your
backside. Bend over the bed."
"No."
"Then I will have to put your leg irons back on." I pushed him savagely
until he fell across the bed. I grabbed the penis chain and yanked it.
He screamed. I attached it to the hook. "Jemima," he shouted, "my name
is Jemima."
I grabbed the paddle and gave him six across his buttocks as he
whimpered.
I went to the chest of drawers and took out some pretty French
knickers. I tossed them on the bed. "Put those on!"
He looked at the garment and slowly put them on. His flaccid prick
sprang into life once more and I knew that I had him.
"Good girl Jemima. I'll bring you some cocoa. Now get into your nice
bed before you get cold."
I reappeared with the cocoa and her pills. I commanded that she swallow
the pills and drink the cocoa.
"Goodnight Jemima."
I switched out the light and locked the door behind me.
I kept her like that for a week and she became more and more
submissive. I could tell that she was masturbating, there were tell
tale signs on her French knickers. I chided her for it, saying she was
a dirty girl. She blushed. It was time to move to the next step.
"Whenever you speak, I would like to hear a girlie lisp." I taught her
how to put her tongue to her teeth when she used an S in a word. "Now I
want to see you taking care of yourself. Use this cream on your face
leave it on for half an hour. I am going to remove your beard and it
will take away the pain."
I returned in half an hour, washed off the cream and dried and powdered
her face. Then I applied the wax and ripped out her facial hair and
sideburns. She grimaced but made no sound. She had become very
submissive. I applied moisturiser, then plucked her eyebrows again. I
could see from the French knickers that I made her wear that she was
indeed enjoying my attention. I used foundation and eye liner, then
mascara, a little rouge and lipstick. I parted her hair in the middle.
Then I introduced her to a brassiere, fastening it for her, filling the
cups with falsies. She liked the suspender belt a lot and I watched as
she worked out how to put it on. I showed Jemima how to roll up the
stockings and draw them up her legs. Then a nice slip, blouse and skirt
and four inch heals. She was then free to look in the mirror.
"What do you think?"
"I look nice. I never thought........."
"What is your name?"
"I'm Jemima."
"Good girl. How do you feel in your new persona."
"I rather like it. It's fun. The clothes make me feel so good, reborn."
Over the next weeks I noted that she was doing feminine things without
my bidding, experimenting with makeup, asking for wax to rid herself of
her facial hair, painting her toenails. On a nice warm October day, I
thought we had reached a turning point.
"How do you feel about going out for a ride in the car."
"Like this?" He lisped nicely.
"Yes, like that. I will take the chain off if you promise to be good."
"I'd love to go for a drive."
"And you will be good?"
"Yeth, I will."
We drove up onto the Moors and sat watching the sun disappear into the
dusk. We drove home. I took her into the kitchen. "You can help me make
dinner," I said. "You know how to peel potatoes?" he nodded. "First
though, I am putting your chain on." I grabbed her arm and swung it
behind her back. In a flash I had my other hand up her skirt and found
the penis ring I deftly snapped the padlock on it.
"You didn't need to do that. I would have put it on myself."
"Well we don't want to let you run off do we."
"I wouldn't."
"Put this nice apron on." I handed her a frilly white apron and she
tied it herself in a nice bow. Above her little bum.
"Here are the potatoes. Get them done and then get them on the stove
and cooking. Would you like fish or a steak?"
"I would love a steak."
"How do you like it, well done or rare?"
"Well done."
"You will have it medium. I will have rare. You will find that the more
you cook a steak, the harder the meat." I taught her how to cut and
cook the broccoli. Then I made her peel the onions. Tears rolled down
her little cheeks, but she made no complaint.
I opened a bottle of red wine and poured us both a glass. She said she
liked white, but I told her white was for fish or fowl.
While I cooked the steaks, I saw her go to her bag and take out here
hand mirror. She carefully removed the streaks of mascara from the
onion induced tears. I was very pleased with her. She sat on a kitchen
chair and crossed her right knee over her left. I was impressed.. The
steaks were done and I made the sauce.
We ate in silence. I wondered what was going on in her head. Whether
she liked red wine or not, we finished the bottle.
"What are you going to do with me."
"I might just let you go. What would you like to do."
"I don't know anymore. I kind of like my life here. I don't have to
think. I have nice clothes to wear, and I have got to like being
girlie. You are weird, but I sort of see your point of view. My
treatment has got better and I have loved today." She caressed her
nylon clad knee.
"You have now been here two months. What if I just dump you back at
your flat?"
"I don't think I would care for that."
"Well, I have a business to run and I have neglected it for too long. I
have devoted two months to your training and I hardly think you are
fully trained yet. However, you have made good progress of late."
"I could stay here and be your housekeeper companion."
"Would you like that?"
"More than anything."
"Tomorrow we will go shopping. You need more clothes then. I can't have
a companion in second hand stuff."
"You mean I go into a shop and buy my own women's clothes?"
"I will be there to help you."
"I don't think I can do that."
"Of course you can. They will probably just take you for a woman, if
not a tranny or transsexual. We better get to bed. Tomorrow will be
fun." I saw her into bed then on an impulse got into bed with her.
After two months of oestrogen her breasts were starting to develop and
when I touched them, she moaned with pleasure and the pain of swelling
breasts. I felt her penis swell. I touched it and felt it throb as
blood pulsed into it. I rolled on top of her and guided her lovely
dick into me. It had been a time since I had had sex. Slowly I worked,
riding her rhythmically until she nearly came then I slowly withdrew
her penis. She moaned with disappointment. I took her in my mouth,
until she came bucking in ecstasy and thrusting her dick deep into my
throat. I took her first burst straight down my throat but the second
and third into my expectant mouth, savouring the taste before
swallowing and then sucked her completely dry. She moaned, then sucked
on my nipples. And ran her fingers gently over my quim. It was my turn
to moan and writhe.
I took her again in my mouth and sucked her dry again, then played with
her breasts.
Eventually we fell asleep in each others'arms.
When we awoke, we had sex again, then showered together.
I left her to dress. When she came down to breakfast, I found that she
had taken great care with her makeup and her dressing. She wore my old
azure silk shirtwaister and the one pair of four inch heels I had
provided her with. Her wrists wore the bangles I had provided.. She
looked a lady.
We breakfasted then left for Manchester. We were passing a beauty salon
when on a whim, I grabbed her arm and hauled her in. I told the
receptionist that Jemima wanted her ears pierced. I could see Jemima
blanche, but I gripped her hand and made sure there was no mistake. We
selected the most girlie of the studs. Two sharp clicks and ?10 and she
was done. When she saw herself in the mirror, she smiled at her image.
Our next stop was a hair salon where I saw only one customer. I asked
whether they could do her hair right away and they could. I sat and
watched as Jemima and the stylist discussed what they would do. After
an hour, she was done. They had completely restyled her hair into a
sharply modern style, cutting her fringe into a lopsided arrow head,
then cutting it over her ears leaving her small ears exposed. It was
radical. As I paid, Jemima was repairing her makeup in a mirror. I
grabbed her hand. We went for a coffee.
"How do you feel now?"
She smiled. "I never thought I would say this to you, but thank you.
You have shown me how wonderful it is to be a woman. I seem to be in
permanent ecstasy. I love my new image and I feel so much more
confident after the hairdo. Having my ears pierced was wonderful."
"Well, we have a lot of shopping to do if you are to be my companion."
In the first shop, I made her choose two dresses. The assistant spoke
to Jemima but she was too shy to reply. I told the assistant that
jemima was changing sex and watched as they both blushed. As we exited
the shop, she asked reproachfully why I had exposed her like that.
Because, I said, she had to get used to speaking to people as Jemima.
"Come on, let's see what we can find. Five hours later, we emerged with
our hands full of carrier bags. On the way home we stopped for dinner
at an Italian restaurant. After the sweet, I took a box from my bag and
presented it to her. When she opened it, she squealed with pleasure as
she saw the friendship ring I had bought for her. She slipped it on her
ring finger. Then she rose and leant across the table and kissed me on
the lips.
"I have never belonged to anyone, never had a proper family, but I now
have you. Thank you for all you have done. It has been a hard lesson,"
she lisped, " but has ended like a wonderful dream."
From that day on, neither of us were alone. Jemima decided she did not
want to have a sex change, we enjoyed sex with each other too much.
Over the next year we became ever closer. What had started as a
nightmare, an revelation in the press for me and her imprisonment had
ended as the happiest of lives.
We were married in France where I rented a cottage on a long lease.
Brandy
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