The Reluctant Transvestite free porn video

The Reluctant Transvestite By Pippa HighHeels [email protected] Synopsis: James Miller has a secret vice. He loves it and hates it at the same time; he revels in his perversity and is ashamed of it all and it's implications. He finally gets an exciting lifeline, then the professional help of a trained psychologist. But all is very far from what it seems... [James Hillman, a psychologist, wrote: "Loving oneself is no easy matter, because it means loving all of oneself, including the shadow where one is inferior and socially so unacceptable. The care one gives this humiliating part is also the cure, but the moral dimension can never be abandoned. Thus is the cure a paradox requiring two incommensurables: the moral recognition that these parts of me are burdensome and intolerable and must change, and the loving, laughing acceptance which takes them just as they are, joyfully forever. One both tries hard and lets go, both judges harshly and joins gladly." You have to read it carefully a few times, but you know what he means...] 1. When James Miller woke early that gloomy Saturday morning, he knew just how the day would progress, yet he'd been attempting to sort out his life in his head for the past hour. All would have been well had it not been for Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett and her supercharged libido; she's be in the bed with him now and he'd be servicing her needs for the first, but certainly not the last, time in the day. God, she had a body to die for, and when she flashed her very ample tits at him that night in the rugby club, well, he'd drunk too much beer and dived in head first. He thought all his numbers had come up that night; they made it back to his place and virtually ripped the clothes off each other. They did it at three times that night and a couple of times the following day before she went home. More liaisons followed, each as passionate; he loved her wonderful body and caressing her voluptuous curves. She'd do anything and then more. Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett moved in with him two weeks later. But he still had to earn a living and could not be at home just as and when Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett felt the urge in her fanny; he still had to do some shopping and wash clothes and tidy the house, but Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett never lifted a finger. And so, when he came home that afternoon, early from his course, and found her shagging one of the other guys from the club - in his bed - well, super body or not, she had to go. Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett was an evil little tart; was he so dumb that only he didn't see it, or had she worked her way through all the other guys in the club before she got to him? Certainly he hadn't disappointed her in the sack; he rose to every occasion and she had been genuinely complimentary about his equipment and the way he used it; James knew he was good, knew he had a big 8- incher, of which he was extremely proud, and knew he had a big set of pendulous balls with enough going on to produce jizz all day. He'd licked her until she was screaming and sopping and then ridden her until her body was shaking. So why was it not enough? The more he thought about, the more he was annoyed with himself, not with her. He must put it down to experience, after all, there's more to life than a good shag... So, here he was, 26 years old, with his own little house and car, a decent professional job and a good education behind him; he had everything to live for, had a decent set of mates to socialize with and chase tail like Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett. But, of course, there was the other side, so different it was frightening. And it wouldn't go away; it was almost schizophrenic. When he was with a woman, it was as though he was trying to prove himself as a virile man, but deep down at the roots of his psyche, he knew he was denying a more fundamental part of himself. When Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett had dressed the tart for him - yes, she had been more than willing - to dress up in sexy lingerie, wear some expensive sheer black stockings and her highest heels, had worn them on the bed and wrapped her legs around his back as he rammed her, allowing him to pause whilst his rampant cock was still embedded in her sweet cunt, the sweat trickling down his back, he raised himself to stroke up the sheer nylon on her legs and kiss the daggers of her heels. The sheer eroticism of that moment forced him over edge and he pulsed huge plumes of thick gluey cum into her; it was a cum so powerful it shook him and caused after-ache in his buttocks and glands. And the thoughts going through his head whilst this wonderful act was taking place? He wished he could change places with Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett. 2. It had always been this way; from a very young age he had loved not only women and their wonderful femininity, but all the trappings that made them so lovely. The borderline between classy and tarty fascinated him, how the look and the clothes, so vibrant and sexy and alive made them look so wonderful and alluring; but he also wanted to experience that at first hand, to feel the sensuousness of sheer nylon, satin, and silk against his skin, to experience the feeling of walking in high heels, to be able to transform oneself with the aid of make-up and a wig, to look and feel and experience those wonderful things that he could not normally do as a man. And as a man, the perversity of his desire attracted him totally, but repulsed him at the same time. Women seemed to be so lucky to be able to wear the things they did. Moreover, their clothes and their look could influence those around them. Watch the heads turn in an office when an attractive girl swayed through in heels and a short skirt. He too had fallen for the same trick with Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett when she had deliberately provoked him with her cleavage, almost daring him to look down at her breasts; how she had looked at him with the deeply shaded eyes with their seductive eye-liner and how she had run her tongue slowly over her shiny scarlet lips. The power she had! What must it be like to be her? How did she feel when she undressed and held her wonderful breasts in her own hands? Did she own any toys? Watch porn? Of course, she could if she wanted, everything on earth was available on-line now. He should know, he spent enough time searching for it on the net. And he'd seen everything and anything; he was even afraid of jading his own considerable appetite for it, but he always, but always came back for more, like a junkie after his fix. And how did she feel when she fondled a guy's cock for the first time; what was it like for her to suck on it and lick down it's length? James knew he wanted to try it all for himself, but dared not admit it. He also knew that if he did, sometime manage to find someone who would... the genie would be out of the bottle and he would never be the same again. Of course, he had worried about himself and tried to rationalize his feelings. He knew for certain he was not the only guy on the planet with these types of urges, but why him? He tried to ask himself whether, indeed, it mattered at all. It mattered to him and it would matter to others - especially his parents. And then there was the waste. When he had moved into his house - his very first house - beaming with pride that he was now on the approved investment ladder, he had, under the conventional wisdom, taken out a mortgage just as large as he dare, knowing that interest rates could rise at any time. So he had been cautious, but sensible enough not to overstretch himself. His friends thought it strange he should choose to live by himself in the house and not take in at least a lodger to help pay the bills. But James knew exactly why he wanted to live by himself, and in a few short weeks parcels of porn, toys, lingerie and shoes arrived that he had chosen so carefully from web sites. How he shook with anticipation as he opened the parcels, especially the shoes and the lingerie. He remembered the weekend following all his purchases when he did all his shopping on the Friday after work, rushed home, got all his washing in the machine and quickly cleaned the house; for later and during the whole weekend, he was to devote himself to simply to himself. He did not answer the telephone, or the door, and left most of the curtains closed, so he could walk around the house freely in his tight corset and the stretchy sheer black stockings; most of all, walking in heels was a revelation. He enjoyed the feel of them on his feet and the way they arched and shaped the muscles in his legs; his adoration of femninity was enhanced even more. Stretched out on the sofa, hardcore anal playing in the DVD player, he pleasured himself with his biggest toy. He had not enjoyed using toys at first, but he persisted and the more he did it, the more he wanted to do it. Of course, he'd seemed some huge things on the web, but knew he had to start out with something more modest. Having got used to that, he'd now graduated to something larger and fatter and was enjoying being impaled as far as it could go. He was luxuriating in the utter perversity of his actions and his life; he wanted to go further than ever before, to challenge himself. When the inevitable happened and he came off with his usual full gush, he caught the cum in a bowl, and then, with deep reverence to the girl on the DVD whose rectum was being deeply reamed by a huge cock, he lifted the bowl to his lips and poured the cum into his mouth, washing around with his tongue and swallowing fully. Having finally done it, he relaxed back, though not without fears flooding back; fears of being caught, fears of what he was himself, yet at the same time, the sheer act of drinking the precious fluid filled him with deep satisfaction. Attracted and repelled at the same time, he tidied up all his kit and did not see things through to the Sunday as previously planned. A few weeks later he met a girl at a party and ended up on a one night stand at her place; he'd enjoyed their sex enormously, and when he got home had parcelled up all his DVDs, toys, lingerie and the lovely, lovely shoes and had taken them to the dump. He did not need such things; he was obviously a normal heterosexual man. End of story. Of course, this was not the end of James's story, for a few months later, he had bought again. It started with a couple of magazines, then a couple of DVDs. then a toy, and before long he had 2 pairs of high heels, multiple pairs of stockings, waspies, corsets, bras, breast forms, a mini-skirt, a wig and had started to make-up. It was heaven, becoming a tart, fucking himself (how good his new, bigger - much bigger - toy felt in him), watching porn and drinking his own cum. How wonderfully perverse it was. His taste in DVDs became more daring; he'd now bought some gorgeous shemale discs and his first gay porn. He loved it all, but the implications terrified him and, at times, shamed him. And then Miss bloody Emma bloody Burdett arrived and spoiled it all, for early in their brief but stellar relationship he'd got rid of everything, even the porn on his computer. He'd purged himself of every image, toy and item of femininity. Emma could and should be his focus in terms of his love of things feminine, surely? James knew what he had to do that gloomy Saturday; it was like being an iron filing and a certain shop in the next town was his magnet. 3. James had always had a fascination with sex shops, and, of course, the things they sold. He'd been in many such shops, from the downright seedy, to some of the more modern brightly lit shops. But he had his favourite. Because it was in the next town, there was less chance of being spotted by someone he knew. The prices were reasonable and the selection good, but because it was run by a woman it never felt as threatening as some of the other shops he'd dared to go in. As always before a visit to such shops he was slightly nervous in anticipation as to what he would find there. Sometimes he wondered if the act of buying was more exciting than unwrapping and enjoying his purchases. He parked up, checked to see he had enough cash, locked the car and, head down against the wind and the persistent rain, he headed off for the shop. It was early enough so there would only be a couple of punters already in there at the most. When he arrived, he soon saw he was in luck as the shop was empty apart from the owner who was watching a small TV behind the cash desk. 'Good Morning!' she shouted from behind the desk, then recognising James said 'Good Heavens. We haven't seen you for a while. Are you OK?' 'Fine thanks.' replied James weakly as his eyes were attracted to the garish displays. The owner came out from behind the desk. She was, around 50 years old, shortish, but in good shape. In her earlier years she must have been good looking, but inevitably, time had had the last word. She wore tight black slacks and a loose flowery blouse that showed her considerable cleavage. 'Now then, we've had lots of new stuff in; They're all here in this section.' She pointed to a part of the display. Otherwise, things are in their usual categories. I'm sure you know the form. One disk for ?30, 3 for ?60. Anything you want to ask, no need to be shy. I'll let you browse in peace.' She walked back to the desk; automatically, he looked down to see if she was wearing heels, which she was, but disappointingly covered by her slacks. He turned his attention to the DVD covers on display; like a kid in a sweet shop, he didn't know what to choose at first, but pulled out some of the most likely titles from studios he knew had not disappointed him in the past. Soon, he'd inched around to the part of the display with the transsexual and gay titles and furtively examined the lurid pictures on the back covers. Hell, they were good. To hell with it, he thought, why don't I buy some bloody porn if I want to; millions do it every day, so why shouldn't I today. I can afford it... just.' 'How are you doing there?' the lady called from behind the desk. 'Fine thanks,' James replied. Realising these were the only two words he's muttered whilst in the shop and fired up by his new spirit of 'why the hell not', he called out: 'Will you do me 10 disks for ?200 please.' 'Of course I will, love, you can never have enough porn!. If you let me have the covers, I'll start filling them with the disks.' James brought the first 5 - all straight titles to the desk, then retreated and came back with 5 more - 3 transsexual titles, a bi disk and finally, a gay one. With heart thumping, he approached the desk again, wondering if the owner would comment on his choices, but she continued filling the covers, systematically going through the pile. While she worked, James wandered to the other side of the shop and browsed the toys, the racks of plugs and dildoes of all shapes and sizes. As he did so, the door bell chimed and another man walked in. James hoped the man would start to browse quietly, to allow him to escape from the shop with his purchases, but he was also so tempted to buy a toy too. He tried to think how big his last one had been and then picked up a something he thought to be a little bigger than that; he hoped he wouldn't be deceiving himself and that he hadn't picked out something impossibly large. The new customer strode between the isles of merchandise and called out to the woman behind the desk who was struggling to find the disk titles that matched the covers, muttering under her breath about people not being able to do simple filing properly. 'Ohhh, hello Graham. Haven't seen you in ages. How are you?' she called to the new punter, looking up from her drawer of disks 'Hello, Nancy, How are you, love?' he called, his voice being utterly different to that James expected from his appearance. 'Nice to see you again.' he reached over and kissed her on each cheek. 'I wanted to know if you still had pairs of those stripper shoes you said you could never shift? I've broken a heel and need some for the show - you know, those strappy sort with perspex heels and platforms - size 9'. 'Just let me finish with this gentleman, and we can catch up. I'm having difficulty finding the disk to Shemale Cum Guzzlers 12...ah, here it is. And then Big Cock Tranny Club 6... let me see...here it is. That Wendy doesn't even know her bloody alphabet; you would have thought it easy enough, filing a few disks. Is that all, sir, or shall I let you browse some more?' She held up a big black plastic bag of the chosen disks. 'No, er, I'll have this as well please.' I walked over to the till, holding the dildo in its rigid plastic enclosure, feeling shy now another man was by the till and had seen most of my choices. 'Lovely, let's pop that in here. That's ?240 please.' The man watched patiently as I counted the crisp ?20 notes out to the lady I now knew was called Nancy. She turned to Graham: 'How's the review going? I saw the notices in the Standard' Before he could reply, Nancy said to me: 'Graham here is the star of that review at the Den Haag bar. I've known you for years, haven't I Graham?' I was as though she were introducing me to an international celebrity. 'For more years than I care to admit', replied Graham with some theatricality, 'but she has always helped me out, getting me good stuff' - he winked at me - 'in the days when the Thought Police deemed all this stuff for perverts and criminals. She's a diamond is our Nancy.' 'A rough diamond, you mean!' quipped Nancy. 'Graham is the drag act and the star of the show.' 'Female Impersonator, please! Well, OK, in this case, rude drag act. But I have done screen and stage work too. I had a speaking part in one of the soaps and I've done quite a few B movies.' Nancy raised a finger, as if to say she knew where to find them and entered the stockroom behind the till. 'Watch the shop for a minute; I won't be long. I know where they are, I think'. It was as though James was a captive audience to a private conversation, and it was as though Graham wanted to keep him at the till of the shop. As James made a move to go, he turned to James and asked: 'You should come and see the show. The reviews were very good And I can see you're liberal on the cross-dressing front.' He nodded towards the plastic bag, stuffed with goodies. 'I doubt there are many punters here who buy tranny porn. Have you tried the Gemma Joy series? I think she's utterly divine.' 'Well, er, they're not titles I know of...' James was feeling uncomfortable, though at the same time intrigued by this slim, smart, 40-something man who was sometimes a woman, at least in his professional life. 'I'm sure Nancy used to sell them, let's just have a look over here...Here, look at the blonde TGirl on that cover - that's Gemma - talk about well hung...' James took the DVD cover and admired the pictures of the very well-endowed Gemma. Nancy emerged from the stock room at the back of the shop with a shoebox. 'Sixty quid to you Graham.' 'Oh thanks, Nancy. You're an angel. I was just trying to interest this gentleman - I'm sorry I don't know your name -'. 'James', he blushed. 'I was just trying to interest James in some more porn, but I guess you've probably bought enough for one day - maybe even two or three days! Here, let me pay you for the shoes.' They emerged from the shop together, having said their goodbyes to the obliging Nancy. The driving rain had re-doubled in strength, thrashing down on the shiny pavements. As they stood in the shop doorway, contemplating the certain soaking outside, Graham said: ' My place is just around the corner; if you follow me I'll put the kettle on and show you some Gemma Joy.' James was terrified, but excited; had he just been picked up? Graham seemed a genuine sort and not like a predatory homosexual. Almost without thinking about it, he responded to Graham's 'Come on, run...' and followed, dashing into the rain. 4. Graham's place turned out to be a modern purpose-built apartment in a small block literally around the corner from the shop. 'British weather!', exclaimed Graham as he turned the key. 'Make yourself at home; go and sit down. I'll put the kettle on.' The flat was small but functional. He had been directed into the side of the apartment that overlooked the road. There was a narrowish sitting area with 2 leather sofas facing one another. A large flat- screen TV was located on the wall above one of the sofas. Towards the window, there was a small circular dining table in the bow of the window with 4 wooden seats around it. It was neat and tidy and uncluttered, except the wall behind the sofa facing the TV which was covered in framed photographs, some which were obviously from his working life and some personal photographs as well. James was peering at the photograph of a young woman with a small boy beside her. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry' said James as Graham emerged from the kitchen with a pot of fresh coffee and cups. 'Not at all, you're welcome to look. They're mostly from some of the productions I've been in. The one you're looking at is my ex-wife and our son.' 'I'm sorry. That's sad when couples split.' said James being genuinely concerned. 'Indeed. Nicholas - that's our boy - was very confused when we split. It was very acrimonious in the end. But I see Nick quite regularly I'm pleased to say.' The conversation stalled as Graham poured the coffee. Then he volunteered, 'She couldn't stand my cross-dressing in the end; some days I get up and I'm Graham as I am today, sometimes I'm Gloria. I don't think it's a big deal, but she did; and when Nick was born she said she couldn't put up with it any longer and walked out. Anyhow, let me put on some Gemma Joy whilst we drink our coffee.' He slipped a DVD into the machine on the little shelf to the right of the big screen and searched through with the remote control. James did not know what to think; he wasn't exactly in a state of panic, yet he wasn't entirely comfortable either. Graham had an ex- wife and a child he obviously loved, so it may well be that he was wholly heterosexual; indeed, there had been absolutely nothing in Graham's conversation or even in his body language that suggested he had been picked up for anything other than an escape from the weather and to share their mutual taste in visual entertainment. 'This DVD has Gemma in every scene I think, so you can choose her on her own, with a couple, with another TS, with a single girl or with a man. What do you fancy?' 'Oh, I'm easy. Just let it run.' The first scene was Gemma with a couple. James had never watched porn with anybody else before, never mind someone as unconventional as a Graham, and it made him feel uncomfortable when the lovely Gemma started to tease the viewer. James sipped his coffee and kept his eyes glues to the screen - because he was genuinely entranced by the stunning Gemma, and because he wanted to avoid Graham's eyes in case he had other ideas. 'Hell, she's hot. Don't you think so?' 'Yes, she's beautiful; she is so feminine as well, you'd never read her as a man.' At that point in the scene it became obvious that not only was Gemma a genetic man, but a very well-endowed one too, and when 9 inches of man-meat flopped out of her dainty panties, James gave an involuntary gasp. 'I told you she was big!' laughed Graham. 'It comes as quite a surprise!' Gemma flopped back on a bed and the camera zoomed in on her enormous, now rock-hard erection. She was joined on the bed by both members of the couple, who took it in turns to suck on Gemma's member. The action was captured in extreme close-up. 'I don't know about you James, but that causes my underwear to stretch...' 'Well, I must be going I guess...' said James smiling weakly, although he knew that he did not want to go, but he was worried about what might happen should he stay. Graham obviously sensed his discomfort and paused the DVD. 'I'm sorry. I can see you're uncomfortable with this, but I wasn't suggesting anything improper, I assure you. But before you do go, just tell me a little about yourself. I'm not being nosey, I just may be able to help you that's all. I'm not Sherlock Holmes, but I when I meet a smart young man who has just bought himself 200 pounds of various hardcore DVDs and a large dildo, I must admit I'm intrigued. What do you do as a job, James.' 'I'm a design engineer.' 'So, you're a professional guy, probably a graduate, probably earning a decent salary. You wear no jewellery, so you're probably single. How am I doing?' 'OK so far.' 'Now the guesswork. You show no obvious signs of being gay and you've probably had several relationships with women, maybe at least one that was potentially serious. Yet, you want more than just vanilla sex and' - he now spoke very slowly and quietly- 'it absolutely terrifies you...' Graham looked quizzically at James, who had got up to go and had reached down to get his bag of goodies. 'Well, maybe something like that, it's complicated. Thank you so much for the lovely coffee and the sanctuary from the rain. And I shall certainly look out for Gemma Joy.' ' Nice to meet you James. If you want to talk some more, here's my number. Give me a call anytime. If you're in mental turmoil, there is help and advice I, and others can give you. Life is meant to be happy you know. Take care and enjoy the rest of your weekend. I can't guess what you'll be doing....' **** The rain had abated by the time James got back to the car. He slung his bag into the passenger side and sat back in the driver's seat, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing deeply. His brain was consumed, not by the delicious images he had just seen, but by Graham's words: '...sometimes I'm Gloria...life is meant to be happy...want more than just vanilla sex...terrifies'. Terror. Of what? Of being shamed. *** His disquiet was no better when he got home. After a quick lunch he pulled the downstairs curtains and stripped off. He felt as though he was obliged to do what he was now going to do, yet, his encounter with Graham had left him in a worse mental state than before. His experience ought to have been cathartic, yet all it had done was upset him. Perhaps it was because of the comparison betwen himself and Graham. Graham, despite his divorce seemed very well adjusted to his cross-dressing and just seemed to enjoy it and accept himself as a guy who enjoys feminizing himself, and was so good at it he was even confident enough to do it in front of a drunken audience. He was in control of himself and his life. James, enjoying the freedom of his nakedness, slipped the first DVD into his machine. In the first scene, the girl had two studs, both well built, muscular guys. The girl looked gorgeous in her sexy underwear and heels and it was not long before she was wrapping her luscious, scarlet lips around the long, thick cock of each stud. James was fully erect and stroking himself as he watched the detail of the girl's mouth action over the swollen head of each cock. Absent-mindedly he reached over into his bag and pulled out the new dildo and ripped it out of its packaging; 10 inches long and two inches thick it was beautiful, heavy and powerful with ridges running all over the shaft. He tried to get it into his mouth and emulate the girl on the screen. He tried to think about the girl; was she enjoying what she was doing? Did the guys taste good? Would she have done it if she wasn't getting paid for it? Was it safe? And then the most crucial question of all. If he ever had the opportunity, would he like to do it? A voice deep in him, replied 'yes, oh yes, oh yes'. A terrified voice. 5. Early on the Sunday evening, James's telephone rang. A colleague of his, Tim, wondered if he would 'like a couple of pints' in town. James, having spent the weekend with his new DVDs and his mental disquiet, agreed, hoping that some company and couple of drinks would lift his mood. It wasn't that he was exactly unhappy, but he just felt uneasy, unsure of himself, and yes, terrified of an enemy he was not able to face. He met Tim in one of the more traditional pubs in town. He'd been a colleague for a year or so, and although they got on well enough, he wouldn't have been James's first choice for a drinking mate. It appeared to James that Tim had already had a few that day and as the evening wore on, his rambling conversation - mainly centred on football and work - began to bore James. As they lurched into their fourth pub, James saw a couple picking up their drinks at the bar and turning to go and sit down on some nearby seats. The young woman was dressed in a shortish skirt, but with black, seamed stockings (at least James hoped they were stockings and not tights) and a pair of classic, black, patent, high stiletto court shoes. James was entranced and tried to get as many sneaky looks at the girl's gorgeous legs and shoes as he could. Tim was becoming incoherent as he became more and more drunk, and whilst James himself was by no means sober, he suddenly decided, he had had enough of the evening and Tim's drunken company, so when the couple finished their drinks and went, James made his excuses and left too. In the taxi home the vision of the girl and (to his mind), the sheer (in both senses) eroticism of her clothes overwhelmed him; he was in a world of his own, imagining the girl getting ready for an evening with her boyfriend, her motivation in choosing those particular clothes, and how she felt when she drew the sheer nylon over her legs and slipped her feet into the cool leather of the shoes. At work the following day, James found it hard to concentrate; he felt hungover from the beer of the previous evening, but it was his mental unease that caused him the most problem. Either he was thinking about the girl in the pub (or rather what the girl in the pub had been wearing) or about Graham, or about life before Emma. When he arrived home, he closed all the curtains, turned on the heating and slipped one of his new transexual DVDs into the machine. He'd tried the new dildo, but had been frustrated that it had been too big for him, so had decided to have another go. It was as though he had to do it for the girl in the pub. As usual, he got a wooden dining chair from the kitchen and attached the dildo by its big sucker to the centre of the seat. Then, with a generous amount of lubricating jelly in his hand, he stroked up and down the massive, powerful phallus. What if this had been a real cock, attached to a real man. Would that act of stroking it cause him the same erection? Would he dare do it? Then he lubricated himself, opening himself up with his fingers as far as possible. He wiped his hands on a some kitchen roll and squated over the dildo. He probed himself gently as he looked at the images on the television. By now, the TS was herself riding the stud, his cock to the hilt in her rectum; she was back to her lover and her semi- erect cock flopping around at every stroke. James pushed harder on the dildo and opened himself more. He applied more lube and tried again and again; each time he knew he had opened up a little further. He held it as long as possible, took deep breaths to calm himself, telling himself to take time, to go gently. And then it was in, and James groaned. James removed it immediately. Gosh that feels big. He checked himself; no blood. He walked around the chair and applied more lube. Gently, gently and then it was in again, deeper this time. Oh, that was fantastic. How could he ever doubt this was the best form of sex ever? And how he wanted some stockings and heels, to be like the transexuals in the DVD, or the girl in the pub. Again he checked himself and again he lubed the dildo; this time he managed a few strokes before removing it; that felt so good. This time he was going to leave it in for at least a minute. He breathed deeply several times, then squated over the beautiful cock again. It slid in much easier this time and he managed 5 to 6 inches of it. He stopped, checked his watch and took more deep breaths, concentrating on the feeling - a feeling he'd come to adore - of being filled to the brim. He felt it edge a little further in; the minute came and went; he lent forwards and gripped the front of the chair, then leant back again and felt further progress deep within himself. This felt incredible and he was rock hard, even though plugged by a big dildo, feeling the muscles forcing his erection up against the rod of rubber within him. As he withdrew, he was forced over the top; he instantly turned to face his rubber lover, aiming spurts of his own cum-juice on and around the shaft of his pleasure. He suddenly felt incredibly hot, the sweat was pouring down his naked body, as he stood there panting, cum dripping from his contracting dick, lubricant running down the insides of his legs and the feelings of deep terror and shame returning to his head. 6. By Wednesday evening, James, having lived in his state of mental torture for far too long, finally resolved to try to do something about it. By chance he'd met someone who may be able to help, so why not take up the offer? It was difficult. The only possible people who could have guessed that he was anything other than a purely heterosexual male were owners of sex shops when he handed over the magazines and DVDs he wished to buy, and they hadn't given a toss about his sexuality, only his money. His relations, friends and colleagues just did not know the true James; but James himself was so afraid of the answers to his own questions. He picked up the telephone and dialled the number. 'Oh, err, yes, it's er, yes, er hello, it's er, James here. We met on Saturday morning and you took me in out of the rain.' 'Oh, hello James, nice to hear from you again. What can I do for you?' 'Well, erm, you mentioned about erm, some help, advice, that type of thing.' 'Yes.' 'Well, I've been thinking about what you said. I know this is bloody cheeky of me, but could I come and see you again for a chat sometime? I've been a bit worried and...' 'Of course. No problem. Tell you what, come on Sunday afternoon about 4. I don't have a show on Sunday evening so come then. I'll see what I can do. Does that suit?' 'That's perfect. Thank you so much.' 'Sunday at 4 then.' As soon as he cradled the telephone he felt much better; he didn't know why, he'd not even spoken a word about his feelings yet, but he just felt that he had taken the first step on a very different road. The week trudged on. On the Thursday night, James repeated his session with the dildo and impaled himself deeper and for longer than ever before. It just felt so good and it turned him on so much; eventually he was able to follow the strokes of one of the girls in an anal- themed DVD, riding up and down as she did the same on her stud. Fearing he'd overdone it a little, he examined himself (with some difficulty) in a mirror and wondered at his slackened, distended ring; it looked so beautiful to him. He wondered what his reaction would be if he saw such a sight on another guy. A short session on his computer showed him how erotic theirs looked too. *** Sunday eventually came. James felt on edge all day until he could finally set off for the next town. He'd shaved, something he would not normally do on a Sunday, and was wearing his 'smart-casuals' not the usual jeans, T-shirt and jumper. On the dot of 4 o'clock, James pushed the button of the entry system and was let in. James ran up the stairs to the first floor and tapped on the door of flat 2. When it opened, James's first mental reaction was that he'd knocked on the door of the wrong flat. 'I hope you don't mind,' laughed Graham, 'but Gloria had to come out today; she's a bit of a scrubber you see, so ideal when I have to do washing and clean the flat. Please come on in.' James was non-plussed, but at the same time, pleased. 'You look very....' he searched for the correct word that would make the right impression. 'Attractive' was probably too familiar, so he rejected that and a few others and eventually , the word 'convincing.' came from his mouth. Gloria was a golden blonde with cascades of ringlets around her shoulders. Her makeup was understated, but so effective, with her eyes lined seductively and her brilliant red lipstick. Her short-sleaved blouse was matching scarlet silk, buttoned high but tight over large breasts. The blouse was tucked into a tight, black pencil skirt which stopped a couple of inches above her shapely knees. And to James's great pleasure, she was wearing black seamed stockings and high, black ankle-strap stiletto sandals. 'Thank you. I do hope you don't mind me cross-dressing today; it's still Graham under the slap, but call me Gloria, please'. She smiled and fluttered her false eyelashes playfully. 'I'm not trying to intimidate you, so please feel comfortable. Tell me you will.' Gloria was anxious not to repel her visitor, but felt confident James would be OK, even though he'd been uncertain at their last meeting. 'I'm fine, thanks, er, Gloria.' He deliberately announced her name and enjoyed doing so, so as to please her. Then, bravely, tentatively, not knowing whether he should, he said 'I think you look wonderful... and very sexy.' 'Thank you for that, I can hear that you mean it and that means a lot. You shall have some tea. I'll just go and put the kettle on.' When Gloria disappeared into the small kitchen, James suddenly had a flash of fear, but he took several deep breaths. After all, what's going to happen? He could hear her heels tapping on the tiles in the kitchen; even they sounded seductive. James got up and walked back to the kitchen. 'Take your coat off and hang it up and let's relax properly,' insisted Gloria. James did so then returned to help with the tea things. Gloria made a fuss of pouring the tea, bringing small tables to his side and arranging mats. As she bent over, James caught a flash of a stocking top. A Victorian would have fainted at such an erotic sight. She came to sit close next to him, on the leather sofa, her bare arm (ending in scarlet fingernails to match her lips) stretched out over the back of the sofa behind him.It was as though she was taking up position to seduce him. James began to feel a little nervous again. 'I'm not going to be shocked, nor am I going to repeat what you have to tell me to a living soul. As you can see, I have a somewhat singular life which I enjoy to the full, so I'm certainly not going to be judgemental. Over to you. In your own time.' She turned and picked up her mug of tea, warming her hands with it. James took a deep breath and began to speak in his quiet, measured way, trying to leave in the relevant and eliminate the rest. 'Women have always been a huge attraction to me and I've spent a large part of the last ten yers of my life in chasing them and loving them. As you suspected when we first talked, at least two relationships have been relatively long-term, by which I mean a few months, not years, but although the sex was good, and sometimes brilliant, there was always something missing. That missing something was being able to be a woman and experience what they experience, and so as soon as I could ensure enough privacy - when I'd bought my own house - I bought some lingerie and heels. High heels, black stockings, tight waists, big boobs, erotic make-up have always been my epitome of the dress of the perfect woman and that's whom I attempted to emulate in my dressing. I loved it, the perversity of the feeling was wonderful. Then I discovered I like using toys too - you saw the one I bought at the weekend - but I've had several before - and suddenly it was serious and worrying. And, although I enjoyed it at the time, I hated myself afterwards. And if, say, I'd been to a party and picked up a girl, or even just out with friends, I felt even worse about it. So I'm in a cycle where I purge myself of everything, but then can't stop myself from buying things again. I love it, but I hate it. No, hate is the wrong word - scared by it is more accurate.' 'What you're scared of is the thought of what you are and how you would be perceived by others.' In one sentence, Gloria had hit a nail squarely on the head. 'And you can't see how the two sides to your life can possibly co-exist; they can't co-exist in your head, never mind in reality.' 'Exactly. Hence unhappiness. No, even unhappiness is wrong. Disquiet is what I feel.' 'Let's have some more tea.' As Gloria stood I was treated to another display of stocking tops and a flash of suspender. She continued as she poured. 'So if you want to know how the girl feels, then you must want to put yourself in her position. Have you ever...had...you know.' 'You mean, have I ever had sex with another man. No, I haven't.' 'But have you ever wanted to?' The answer was difficult for James. 'To be honest, when I watch straight porn for example, I watch probably as much from the girl's perspective than from the man's...' 'Is that a 'Yes' or a 'No' ?' 'It's a 'Yes'. Of course it's a Yes. But it's still scary. If I were to do it for real then the genie would be out of the bottle; what has been done can't be undone...' 'You mean, once a puff, always a puff?' 'Sort of. I suppose it's a self-esteem thing.' 'So, in your eyes, were you to have sexual contact with another man you would have stained your view of yourself forever...you would have disappointed yourself. A rather Victorian concept, wouldn't you say?' Gloria didn't wait for my reply before continuing. 'So if I confessed to you that I have regularly had sex with both men and women throughout my adult life, would you regard me, someone who pays his taxes, looks after his ageing parents and a growing child, who, as far as he knows has never hurt anyone or thing intentionally, would you regard me as somehow morally inferior?' 'Well, no.' 'So why shouldn't the same apply to you and your view of yourself?' James did not reply, but stared into his now-empty tea cup. Gloria continued: 'You may think my words are thin, but my wife knew exactly what she was getting before we married, exactly. She knew I was a transvestite - in fact a whole group of us had been shopping with Gloria, and she knew I was bisexual, and she didn't expect me to give it up. I knew she had been with other men and women - she was bi too - but when Nick came along I was suddenly supposed to change.' 'Isn't it dangerous nowadays - you know, sex with men? Aids and all that?' 'If you sleep around and don't know who you're sharing bodily fluids with then, yes, it can be dangerous. If you go to sex clubs or sex cinemas and have unprotected with anyone, of course, it's dangerous and I wouldn't do it or recommend you do it. My lovers are all people I've known for years, people who are honest and have some integrity.' Gloria lent over James, placed her arm around him and without him feeling anything but warmth, her free hand on my leg. 'I'll help you make some important decisions in life, because without those important decisions you'll never be happy. James was enveloped in a subtle perfume of spring fowers; he looked up into her eyes, this ersatz woman, but who still had all the trappings of desire. 'You see,' she whispered now, her brilliant red lips nearly touching his ear, 'there's a whole world of difference between sex and love. They're not exclusive, but one does not necessarily go with the other. Consenting adults can consent to have some fun together, it does not follow that they want to live together for the rest of their lives.' Gloria was rubbing the inside of James's thigh with her hand. 'Whatever your preference, it's just you, there's no way you can condemn yourself for it.' 'So, you think I should not exercise some self control, get married and have 2.4 kids and a semi-detached in the suburbs? And - most important - think no more about dressing as a tart or using toys and watching porn'. 'If that's what you want to do, then fine. But you know how powerful these urges are. I don't think it possible to ignore them because they are simply part of what makes James, James. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde - you can resist anything except temptation. You'd soon try to be living a clandestine double-life, hiding things in the loft, waiting for the house to be yours for a couple of hours. I think you should exercise lots and lots of self-control by refusing to let yourself be drawn into the coventions of society; only by doing so, I believe, will you have any chance of happiness.' There was a long pause. 'But James,' she pulled him to her, 'I can help make you happy.' Their eyes met and there was an unstated understanding between them. When they relaxed back into the sofa, the kiss seemed the most natural thing in the world. James did not pull back; it was like those first moments with Emma, or any of the other girls he'd kissed in his life. Gloria was soft and fragrant, her breath sweet and clean. Their tongues intertwined in a sensuous, all-consuming way. Automatically, James's hands, clutched at Gloria's slim frame, pulled her to him on the sofa and his hands started to wander, unhindered by Gloria. Her stockinged legs were so smooth, the lacey-tops so intricate, and the suspenders taught. James realised he was fully erect, and when he felt Gloria's delicate left hand cup his bulge it turned him on even more. 'Shall we make ourselves more comfortable?' whispered Gloria in a brief respite from their seemingly eternal kiss. Gloria stood and her skirt slid to the floor. James, entranced by the sudden vision of the 8 suspenders holding her sheer black stockings and the tiny string of the crimson silk thong between the globes of her buttocks. James could not help himself; he reached up to hold her bottom, to carress her cheeks with his hands. She turned back to face him, James still perched on the edge of the sofa, Gloria stood in front of him, the bulge of her thong in front of James's face. Gloria and James's eyes met again. 'Do you want to let that genie out of the bottle?' she asked him, smiling gently, almost beatifically. James reached up and carressed the tops of her stockings again and up to the elastic of her thong. He paused, knowing that he would remember this exact moment for the rest of his life. He felt excited, like someone who has waited for such precious, fleeting moments of joy, and now finding that the moment had finally arrived, that he could now perform, with total enjoyment, an act of such divine beauty, an act which he had dreamt of for so, so long. One of his most secret desires were about to be played out. He teased the flimsy fabric downwards and Gloria's thick cock sprung out in front of him. He looked up into her kohl-black eyes again. 'My God, that's so beautiful...' He leant forwards and gently held her cock, easing the foreskin back to reveal her purple shiny knob, with its bead of pre-cum. And then he took her into his mouth, closing his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling, the taste, the beauty, the ecstasy. And the genie flew from the bottle, never to return. 7. James wanted to do this forever. It just felt so right, so erotic. His own pants were soaked from his own pre-cum and he was so turned on by his experience he felt he may come too soon and disappoint Gloria. Gloria withdrew from his mouth then bent down and kissed him on the lips. 'Now let's make ourselves really comfortable.' Gloria removed her thong fully and picked up her skirt in the same hand. She held out her other hand to James, who took it and followed her into the bedroom. . The bedroom was simple, but neat, tidy and clean. It was the bedroom of someone who cared and looked after themselves well. The wall to the right of the door was a simple floor to ceiling wardrobe; to the left was a dressing table and mirror and in the centre a large, inviting bed. 'Now, shall we make you a bit more girly, if we're going to continue your trans-lesbo conversion?' 'Are you sure? I don't want to put you to any trouble.' 'No trouble at all. It means, of course, that I shall have to undress you...' She was teasing and being provocative now, but in a gentle way that he could not resist. In many ways, James, like an adolescent with his first girl, wanted to get on with it, but he knew that the waiting and the anticipation were all part of the pleasure for them both. First, she took off her blouse, and invited James to loosen her bra. She removed her breastforms and bra, explaining she liked her lovers to play with her nipples. Her stockings were being held by a soft black leather corset with laces at the back, pulled tight to accentuate her waist and to ensure it stayed in place, ensuring her stockings were always held firmly and smooth by the 8 suspenders. James started to undress, but Gloria stopped him. Soon she had removed all except his straining underpants - left until last to prolong the tease. She dropped to her knees, looked up at him and began to slide down his pants until his rampant erection sprang out. 'My my, I am a lucky girl. What a lovely big boy you are...' She took him gently between her wonderful scarlet lips, sucking slowly, but insistently, engulfing his substantial rod of flesh in her warm, wet mouth. He felt his knob hit the back of her throat as she tried to devour him. She withdrew and mouthed 'Mmm, that was good. More later. Now, some stockings I think and a suspender belt at least. Is that OK?' 'That's fine, thanks. How can I ever thank you, this is brilliant. It's the most wonderful thing I've ever done.' 'Oh you are sweet. I only hope you feel the same way when you've climaxed.' She left it at that and said no more, not wanting to put him off. She demonstrated the male and female sides of her wardrobe, the majority being the female side which also contained much of Graham's stage clothes as well. There was a whole rack of high heels,drawers of sexy lingerie, and a drawer lined with cotton wool that housed Gloria's large collection of toys. James gasped as he saw the toys, some of them enormous by his standards. 'Wow, that's impossible, surely. May I?' Gloria assented and he pulled out an enormous black dildo with a rubber sucker at its base. 'You mean you can take this....' 'Indeed, I am an advanced player. Now, lets find those stockings before we cool down.' Gloria found a satin suspender belt and a pack of new stockings for James. Gloria helped him and he loved the feeling as the sheer nylon teased the flesh on his legs. James reached up to Gloria, pulling her lips down to his again. 'I must suck you again, please.' It was almost imploring, but he need not have worried. Gloria pulled the covers back on the bed and asked James to lay back and relax. Being careful with her heels, she climbed over James in a classic sixty nine position, allowing them the best of both worlds at the same time. Gloria was good and soon got into a regular rhythm over James's engorged tool. James slurped away at Gloria, taking as much of her thick, meaty cock as she could, whilst teasing open her hole which could, apparently, take such huge toys. James stroked Gloria's stockings and ran his hands down the spikes of her heels. He sucked away gently, moving his tongue around the knob end and exploring it. Hell, if this wasn't the best thing.... Eventually, moaning in ecstasy, James's back arched, forcing his cock up into Gloria's mouth even more. Gloria knew what to expect and was determined not to disappoint James. She never missed a stroke, ensuring her mouth remained firm around his wonderful turgid cock as plume after plume of hot rich spunk plastered her throat with force. Gloria knew this was a vital time for James; how would he react having just come so powerfully? They disengaged carefully. Gloria knelt on the bed, and, having made sure she held his cum in her mouth, swallowed with deliberation, pushing up a dribble with her fingers into her mouth and re-visiting his wilting prick to lap up the any remains of his cum. 'That was, that was...' James could hardly talk he was so overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm. He was breathing hard and feeling hot. Gloria was worried James would now be angry with himself and her for 'forcing the events of the afternoon upon him', but James lay there, an air of serene peace surrounding him. Gloria decided to leave him for a few minutes, half expecting to come back and find him dressed and ready to leave, but when she returned a few minutes later with some cold drinks James was sat up. 'Never, ever, have I had a cum so hard as that. Gloria, you are gorgeous, how can I ever thank you? And you swallowed me all...you swallowed, oh, you total beauty.' They were mouth to mouth again now, kissing passionately, James able to taste himself within her mouth. Gloria got up onto her knees to straddle him. 'You wanted to know how to thank me.' She leant forwards and grabbed the top of the bed-head bringing her cock to his lips again. Eagerly, without the slightest hesitation, he took her again, slurping noisily at her curved, thick cock. With his hand he massaged the shaft whilst maintaining his lips over her beautiful knob, felt her sack of balls and started to probe her hole. He saw the urgency in her eyes and he knew; she cried out and he felt the splatter on his tongue and throat as her rich, thick, spunk filled his mouth. He looked into her beautiful eyes again and swallowed fully. 'If you enjoyed that as much as I did...' James heard himself saying, amazed by his own reaction to the afternoon's events. Gloria slid back down into the bed and pulled the sheet over them. 'Now we're even. Thank you, that was wonderful. Have you tasted cum before?' 'Only my own; I quite like the taste, especially when it's thick and creamy.' 'Mmmm, yes, I agree. And swallowing is so erotic.' She reached down and held his prick, which was now hard again. 'Do you feel like servicing a lady?' 'You mean...' 'Of course. I'm fully prepared, like a good Girl Guide...' She reached over and found a condom in the bedside drawer. 'You put that on, I'm just going to go and shoot some lube up into me.' She came back from the bathroom a couple of minutes later with a small towel which she laid on the middle of the bed. Gloria sat on it and lay back. 'Can we start with missionary? I like it face to face to start.' James cried out in joy as he slipped up into her hot hole; he ground away, fully installed for some time, which she enjoyed, judging by her filthy language. He leaned forwards to kiss passionately, tongues entwining. He leaned on his elbows, tweaked and nibbled her nipples with his fingers and hands as he slowly fucked her. He leant back and held himself on outstretched arms as he lengthened his stroke, bring a cry of joy from her every time he filled her again. She played with her semi-erect cock and her eyes rolled as he fucked her. 'Let's do it doggy' she asked and got out and stood by the side of the bed, leaning over, legs splayed. This was not easy for James with her in high heels, so she knelt on the side of the bed, her distended hole towards him. He entered with a good. full thrust and he was right up into her again. 'More, harder..' she cried and he obliged, pumping away, the sweat tricking down his back, his stockings rubbing against hers with electric eroticism, his big sack of balls slapping against her. He reached forwards and held her cock; with his finger he rubbed the pre-cum from her tip and licked it off his finger. James did not want the afternoon to end, but inevitably he came, again with a huge gush as Gloria tightened her muscles about his rod so as to milk him. They were gasping and incoherent when they eventually disengaged. James went to remove the condom, but Gloria stopped him. She kissed him: 'Too good to waste' she said cheekily, then carefully removed the condom from his fast-wilting cock. Holding the condom in one hand, she went down on his length again so as to lap up any remaining cum, running her hand up his tube to squeeze out any more. As they lay back in the bed, James exhausted from his fucking, she took the open end of the condom in her mouth, then raised the tip to let it drain into her. She took as much as she could, then stirred it around in her mouth with her snaking tongue, and leaned over James for the longest, most sensuous, kiss. 8. Gloria was concerned for her charge, for that was, indeed, how she now thought of James. There was over ten years difference in their ages, and Gloria, having stabilized her life and gone through the same anguish as James was now experiencing was all too aware of the negativity a satisfied libido can cause. In short, having had two huge orgasms, she was worried he would run back to conventionality and not carry himself forward. James on the other hand was simply serene. Whilst he could not believe what had happened that afternoon, he was feeling comfortable with himself. Certainly a feeling of self-loathing or anything approaching it had not set in, at least not yet; it seemed, being influenced by Gloria had given him some indefinable inner strength. He had genuinely enjoyed their sex fully and savoured all the excitement. Yes, what they had done had been good. Nobody had got hurt, so why not. James was even surprised Gloria did not want to take him also, and he asked her just that question. 'Love to darling, but I must really attend to more domestic things. I will soon, I do promise, I'm not totally passive you know. Now then, I'm concerned you need some more support and encouragement.' 'I'm not with you...exactly. We just have to take off from where we've left off don't we...' James looked puzzled. 'My dear James, whilst you have come a long way to purging yourself of the demons of guilt and shame, there's a lot more to do. I think it would be good for me to introduce you to Mistress Andrea. Now don't get the wrong idea, please. She will only thrash you if you deserve it, I promise. No, I'm teasing you, that's not what I go for at all.I suppose the notion of a 'Dominant Mistress' calls up the same word as 'prostitute' but she's far from that. Whilst, yes, she is a dominant Mistress and a damn good one at that too, she's a a fully trained psychotherapist too. Her real name is Dr Andrea Carlson, originally from Sweden, and stunningly gorgeous. But she sorted me out and directed my mind and my life to the state it is today. I'm going next week for a regular session, so I'll ask her. She will make you strong, believe me.' James did not know what to imagine, or how this 'Mistress' could make him stronger, but he gladly went out into the night air having given Gloria all his contact details, his permission to talk to Mistress Andrea about himself, and the longest hug possible. *** By the time he had got home, eaten and prepared himself for the week ahead, it was late and James felt tired. He had found it hard to concentrate on the drive home, but knew he must try his utmost. So, it was only really later, when preparing for bed that he began to seriously reflect on the experiences of the day and how it may affect his life. Certainly, he had been very turned on and enjoyed the sex and the passion enormously. He had found Gloria sexy, and probably sexier, than any of the many girls he'd slept with. Being able to partially dress and be utterly open about everything seemed to free him up. With a girl, sex was never a guarantee, it seemed to have to be earned; one had to push one's desires as far as the girl was willing and keep pushing their boundaries of acceptability. But with Gloria, it had never been like that. How did that old song from 'My Fair Lady' go: 'Why can't a woman be more like a man'. How appropriate. *** James slept like a baby that night and awoke revitalised for the week ahead. He threw himself into the projects at work with renewed vigour and was suddenly his most productive for months. He found himself suddenly very happy, and when his colleague Tim remarked on his re- discovered smile, saying that he must have 'got off' with a woman over the weekend, James just smiled to himself. The days went quickly. On Tuesday after work he went for a hour's swim at the local pool, chopping up and down the pool with a powerful, lazy stroke. He was feeling pleased with himself; pleased now he now felt somehow more complete; it was only sex, what did he have to worry about. He specifically tried not to think about his weekend whilst in the showers, terrified he was going to get an erection in public that he could not hide, and although he could not block off his mind totally, he avoided any disgrace. On Wednesday evening he was just trying to decide whether to have a session with his toy or not, when the telephone rang. 'Hi James, it's Graham. Are you OK.' 'Fine thanks, you?' They continued to make smalltalk; Graham wanted to know that James has not had a bout of self-disgust since the weekend. 'No. On the contrary. I feel reinvigorated.' James told him his fears following his swim and they laughed about it. 'Now, I hope you don't mind, but I've talked to Mistress Andrea about your situation. As it's precisely the sort of thing she specializes in, she thinks, and I think, you would definitely benefit. The thing is, she's not cheap; she starts at about eighty pounds an hour. Typically, you'd have an assessment, and she would then agree a programme of action with you; believe me, she's made such a difference to me. I now believe in myself and my life.' 'OK, Graham, let's go for it. You told me that life's an adventure; let's open a few new doors.' 'Well, I'm not sure it will do that but it will show you that what you already do is perfectly acceptable and should be acceptable to yourself. I'll send you details about the where and the when. One thing: have you by any chance ordered yourself some clothes and shoes?' 'Well, I've been tempted, but I really need to get paid first and with the upcoming fees and so on.... It's not that I don't want to, believe me, especially some shoes...' 'I understand. What I was going to suggest is to buy again under the guidance of Mistress Andrea...' 9. The late autumn evening boasted a dramatic sky; purple clouds threatened a sudden shower and the glory of a rainbow propelled by the low sun. As James pulled up before the substantial Victorian house, he was frankly nervous about his session ahead and what he was about to experience. On the dot of 4 o'clock he pushed the doorbell. The receptionist opened the door, welcoming him with a smile of perfect teeth. She was young, petite and pretty, but wore too much make-up like someone who worked on the make-up counter in a department store. James was enveloped in a cloud of powerful perfume. 'Mr. Miller? Please come in. Dr Carlson will see you shortly. Please take a seat.' The reception area was in the house hall-way allowing space for 3 seats opposite. James sat, rubbed his perspiring hands down his trousers and took some deep breaths. A door to his left opened. 'Mr Miller? I'm Andrea Carlson, please come in and sit down.' He was ushered into a comfortable office, but rather than sitting facing each other across the desk, she indicated a move into comfortable chairs either side of a huge floor-to-ceiling bow window which looked out over the substantial garden, with its sweeping lawn dotted with fallen leaves from the trees. The light was fading and dotted lights could be seen from the anonymous windows in the distance. Andrea Carlson was indeed stunningly beautiful as Graham had stated. Her symetrical oval face with its piercing blue eyes and natural blonde hair instantly placed her origins in Scandinavia. She wore a crisp white blouse with a silk decorated scarf about her neck, a heavy black skirt with a tasteful inlaid dark purple pattern, sheer black stockings and classic court shoes. It was all very