Kerry - A Life Continuing free porn video

This story is dedicated to all those readers who took the time to comment on my previous stories. Thank you This story picks up 8 months after the brutal assault on Kerry during the works Winter Ball, and Kate's marriage proposal to him. He made his choices and is now getting on with life, trying to put a closure on past events and enjoy his future. This is the last of the Kerry Stories and I recommend you read the others first, but if not here's a summary. In KERRY & THE SECURITY CHECK - returning from a short break in Scotland en fem Kerry unwittingly checks in the wrong suitcase. Stopped at security he is stripped search and humiliated and left with breast forms glued in place. Having missed his flight he is forced to work in a local hotel and whilst there is sexually assaulted by the Duty Manager. In KERRY & KATE - he arrives home from Scotland still dressed as a women only to find his fianc?e Kate who should be in the USA on business isn't. Worse than her anger is the fact he has just been fired. For the next few weeks he is forcible feminized by her, yet he submits to it in order to keep the woman he loves, what he hadn't bargained on was the advances of the new neighbour Richard. Out of work and trapped as a women he becomes his high flying fianc?es PA In KERRY THE PERILS OF A PRETTY PA - Life is full of coincidences and his ex fianc?e is now over seeing the take over of a group of Hotels including the one he worked for in the first story. But that is the least of his problems, sexual harassment at work and at home, every twist leads to further humiliation and feminization. But light is at the end of the tunnel as he has finally recovered his missing suitcase and at last has some male clothes In KERRY CHOICES & DECISIONS - having decided to wait till after Christmas to enforce his masculinity, Kerry is still working for the lovely Kate. She's not the only one showing him more affection, there's a first kiss with Richard and the leering HR director to cope with. But life isn't all work, parties and wearing Madame Colbert's beautiful gown to the works Winter Ball, but that is when life changes. Brutally raped, bound and left for dead Kerry struggles with his sexuality up till Christmas Day when his ex fianc?e Kate proposes to him. Did he accept ?? KERRY - A LIFE CONTINUING The taxi drove past the now familiar landmarks of Edinburgh, taking me from the 5 star hotel where I had spent the last fortnight. It turned left and went down the ramp and over the speed humps into Edinburgh Waverley Station, the August sun light blocked by the station roof. The taxi stopped at the bottom of the ramp, the driver removed my luggage and having paid him I went across to the departures board, another 15 minutes before the Aberdeen to London Kings Cross train was due in. I headed over to the news agents and as I made my way to the magazines I glanced casually at the headlines. One jumped out at me from the Sun "Sissy Strangler Sentenced". There had been others during the 2 week long trial, such as "Tranny's Terror!" and "Court Cross-dressing" The intense media interest that I had endured was not purely because of me. I picked up two magazines and having paid for them walked slowly to the Platform 4 Coach A sign, to await my trains arrival. I remembered the joy in the Police Inspectors voice when he had rang to say they had arrested one of my assailants. Apparently a routine stop for a faulty brake light, but they had become suspicious and quiet rightly so, for in the boot of the car was the body of James Croft, also know as Jayne Croft a pre op Escort from Glasgow. He had been drugged with alcohol and Rohypnol, sexually assaulted and strangled, the similarities were to much, his attackers DNA a perfect match with the semen taken from my anus and mouth after my rape the previous December. The train pulled slowly into the station. I waited for it to stop then made my way to one of the doors of the first class carriage. Having placed my cases in the luggage area I made my way down to my reserved seat. I slipped off my pale brown linen suit jacket and placed it in the overhead rack then sat down in the single seat placing my two magazines and laptop on the small table. The train began to move, the Guards voice coming through on the speaker. I wasn't listening instead I stared out of the window into the blackness of a tunnel as I thought back over the trial. Even with a body in the boot of his car and a DNA match he had still refused to plead guilty to the murder of James Croft and the abduction, sexual assault and attempted murder of Kerry Eddington. Which was why I had been in Edinburgh this past fortnight, enduring his looks as I took the witness stand, and even before that I saw him starring at me as I sat in the public Gallery. The train track hugged the coastline as we sped further south, across the border through Berwick upon Tweed and across the curving viaduct. The police had found thousands of imagines on his laptop, but some had interested them as they were not downloaded from the net but a phone. I had been forced to stand in the box whilst these imagines were shown to me, and having identified the images of myself they were then shown to the jury of 7 men and 5 women, a totally humiliating experience. One of the images showed me laid across a bed, my head tossed back long blonde hair hanging to the floor my eyes unfocused and drugged. The image of a man from the waist down, his cock thrust into my mouth. The green silk dress of my ball gown was pulled up, stocking tops clearly visible whilst another man also naked from the waist down spread my legs wide open to penetrate me. Another showed me, dress pulled up, my panties missing, my small limp penis, the bodice of the dress pulled down despite its tight lacing to reveal my left nipple, the bite marks big and red around it. My wrists had been tightly bound and my mouth gagged with my own panties, semen covered my face and stocking tops. All in all there were nearly 100 pictures taken that night, the date and time shown clearly on each, a catalogue of the depravity the man in court had put me through, along with others that he had refused to name. Yet only he was on his way to start his Life sentence in HM Prison Peterhead, one of Scotland's toughest. The green English countryside sped by lit by the summer sun, yet somewhere out there other people were escaping justice. I sipped on the complementary coffee and flicked through the magazines I had bought in the newsagents. Some of the women were skimpily dressed, curvy and beautiful, others with perfect hair, make up and dressed in the latest fashions, how I wished I could be like them. Through Newcastle Durham York the train was speeding me home, not to the apartment in Kensington that I had shared with Kate my ex boss and fianc?e, but my new home, a house in a small village in Kent, how I had missed its privacy. My mind turned to Kate, lovely Kate, and naturally back to Christmas Day when she had proposed to me in a cold and frost covered Hyde Park. I had not regretted my answer - a new beginning. I wondered if she had heard the verdict and what she was doing now this Friday afternoon. My Iphone bleeped and I picked it up and read the message "see you Kings X hugs and xxxx". The train pulled into Peterborough, the last stop and just under an hour to go to London. The man who had been sat opposite me got up and leaving his paper behind left the train. Bored I picked it up, the Scotsman, and slowly flicked through the pages of old news and irrelevant Scottish articles. It was there on page 5, almost a discrete headline on a small column "Life for Ladyboy Killer" slowly I read on even though I knew the story. "Sado pervert Peter James (43) a once respected Director of Sir Donald McInnery's Caledonian Leisure Group was yesterday sentenced at Edinburgh Sheriff Court for the murder of ladyboy "Jayne" Croft. The 24 year old transsexual escorts body was found asphyxiated and bound in the boot of his car in April after a routine police stop. He was also charged with the attempted murder of another cross dresser identified only as X in the court. X had been sexual assaulted and left for dead last December at the exclusive Caledonian Golf Hotel in Fife which was being used for a winter ball hosted by Sir Donald exclusively for his employees. Police are still investigating other alleged sexual assaults on female employees whilst James was hotel manager at Edinburgh Airport, and also believe he was not alone when he carried out his rape and assault of X in December" I closed the paper, that name still sent a shiver down my spine. The train entered a series of tunnels then slowed as it approached Kings Cross. Other passengers stood and began to gather their belongings, but I remained seated until the train pulled to a final halt. I got up and grabbed my linen jacket from the luggage rack and slipped it on over the crisp white short sleeve shirt. I left the magazines and the copy of the Scotsman and headed down the aisle to collect my cases. It was a largish gap between carriage and platform, I had to turn slightly so that I could step down onto the platform without my linen suit skirt riding up to high. Obviously I was unsuccessful as I felt the colder air of the station find its way up the split in the back of the skirt and around my natural coloured stocking tops, as I struggled with the two cases in the carriage door and down onto the platform. People walked past as I brushed my skirt smooth and adjusted my brown Mulberry bag so that it hung from one shoulder. I looped the laptop bag over the extendable handles of one of my cases and set off to the barrier at the end of the platform. The concourse was packed as I made my way with all the other travellers out through the barrier. Over the din of announcements, train engines and voices I could here my name being called "Kerry Kerry", and then I saw her pushing through the crowd towards me. At last a friendly face after the hostility of the defence and pushiness of the press. I let go of my cases and wrapped my arms around her in a long embrace. Her hands brushed my golden curls from my face so that she could wipe a tear from my eye, the crowd flowed past us but I was oblivious to them. Nothing was said between us, as she turned and helped me with my bags towards the taxi rank. She knew what I had endured over nearly a year now and as sister to brother, or was it sister to sister, she knew nothing she could say would change that. I felt my mood lighten in the presence of my sister Lucy as the taxi threaded it's way down towards Charring Cross station. It felt good to be back in familiar London, the streets busy with Friday evening rush hour traffic. We could have taken the tube, it would have been quicker, but with my luggage and the rush hour commuters it would have been hideous in the August heat. As it was the slow commuter train was bad enough and I was glad when it stopped at the small station in Kent, where Lucy had parked her new red mini cooper. For really the first time since Kings Cross we began to chat. Lucy so excited about returning to Madame Colbert's for the final fitting of her bridesmaid's dress. The Kent countryside rolled by, so different from the humdrum of Kensington where I had shared an apartment with Kate. I had moved out shortly after Christmas, having given Kate my answer to her proposal. Our neighbour Richard had parted that Christmas from his fianc?e, the caustic Veronica, who had so greatly disproved of Richards flirtatious behaviour toward me. Memories of Kate and Richard flooded back to me, how ironic the first meetings had been so similar. Kate a first year student, a friend of Lucy, boxes scattered around her digs. Young beautiful and confident she had left the older me a burbling wreck in her presence. Richard so similar, boxes scattered around the apartment, me flustered on the low sofa as I struggled to maintain my dignity and stop the short skirt I was wearing from flapping open to reveal any more thigh. Then that first kiss, I let out an audible sigh that Lucy commented on. The mini turned through a gate set in a long tree lined lane, and crunched up the curved gravel drive towards the house, my new home. Large 1930's style with the roof sloping in several directions, the lovely mature gardens contained a tennis court, pool and as of now some unused stables. I got out of the car and admired the view across the Kentish countryside. In excess of 4 million pounds, but my partner to be was doing well for themselves in the city. I was to become a kept woman, the perfect housewife and hostess, which as I thought about it conjured up the image of some woman in 50's style dress busying themselves around the house, perfectly turned out. God knows the size of this place it would be a full time job. Lucy volunteered to bring the bags in and I unlocked the front door, heels clicking on the parquet flooring. I slipped my linen jacket off and hung it on the end of the banister and began to flick through the fortnights worth of mail that Lucy had sorted out for me. Junk, bills and late replies to my Wedding Invitation. Well I say wedding but legally it was a civil partnership, no church for me but I would still be wearing a gorgeous white gown from Madam Colbert. The answer machine was flashing, just the four messages. Madame Colbert confirming wedding day details, the venue on some minor details, then Richards voice querying some of the details for the wedding, then to my surprise Kate's voice, friendly and loving, checking to see I was ok, all alone in the big house in the country. With the bags in from the car Lucy kissed me on the cheek. I wanted her to stay, but she had a hot date, as she put it that night and needed to get back to her Chelsea apartment. Alone again I took my cases upstairs and unpacked. Job done I switched on the shower in the en suite and walked back into the bedroom. I unzipped the side zip of the linen skirt and it fell silently down my natural coloured nylon clad legs, the four ruffled suspender straps visible below the tails of the crips white short sleeve shirt. I unhooked the four stockings clasps then reached behind and unfastened the cream lace suspender belt and pulled it up through my panties, discarding it into the growing pile of washing. The shirt, panties and bra quickly followed and I was soon naked. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, so different from Christmas when I had been battered and bruised. I remembered the conversation Kate and I had had on Christmas Day on the way back to the apartment, about the vitamins that were really female hormone pills, yet I was not angry with her for I had decided on a new life as woman. Impatient I had discarded the breast enhancers and hormones and In the June I had had breast augmentation surgery. Nothing ridiculous I was now a 34B, small and pert that matched my slimmer and more toned size 10 body, only the small limp penis detracted from its femininity, but that's the way my betrothed liked it, best of both worlds they described it as. The hot power shower was most welcome, washing away the weariness and grime of my long journey. I towelled my hair dry then styled the long golden curls so that they fell in waves over my shoulders. Happy, I slipped off the white towel and slipped on a full length spaghetti strapped cream silk night dress, deeply slashed from hem to mid thigh, then the matching silk robe that I secured with a bow at my side. I grabbed a glass of chilled Chardonnay from the kitchen then headed into the lounge and opened the large French windows that allowed me to step out onto the patio. In the west the last sunset of August lit an orange glow of the horizon as the valley below was cast into deep shadow. A week tomorrow would be my wedding day, the anniversary of my first meeting with my lover. The stifling heat of the day turned to a sudden autumnal chill, and I felt my nipples react to the cold air through the thin silk. Reluctantly I went inside locking the door behind me and went to the large four poster bed upstairs, which with a wink my partner had said we could have fun and games with, only time would tell as memories of my assault whilst bound still haunted me. Next morning I woke to birdsong, daylight flooding in from a gap in the curtains. I pulled them back and admired the view. A low mist had formed in the river valley, the trees and a church spire poking through the top. Through the open window the morning air had an autumn chill to it, but the clear skies meant it was probably going to be another hot day. Having had coffee and breakfast I made a phone call to Richard and arranged to meet him tomorrow to discus the wedding. Then I went up stairs and stripped off the silk nightie and robe and from a draw retrieved a pale blue bikini. Nothing to small, my new breasts well covered and pants large enough to cover what was needed, how strange that the thought of even wearing something like this last year, even a swim suit had petrified me. I tied the bow on the bikini top behind my neck slipped on some sandals and went out into the garden to the poolside. I was right, it was a hot day, and I spent it in solitude by my poolside soaking up the suns rays. I tried to think of my future, but the past still haunted me and when ever I could feel my mood blackening I dived into the chill waters of the pool. Again it was the evening chill that forced me indoors. I showered and put my nighty on before going down to the kitchen to grab a snack. I had hardly eaten in days and felt slightly weak, but I had a wedding dress to squeeze into. Sunday was more active and having had a Coffee in bed I showered and styled my hair into a ponytail. Then from my lingerie draw I selected a simple lace bra and panties, it was to be another hot day so I wore no stockings, but my legs were silky smooth and tanned from yesterday's sun. From my dressing room I picked out a light coffee coloured sleeveless dress with red floral pattern on it that came to mid calf length, and a simple thin cotton white cardigan to protect my bare shoulders from the sun. Having fastened my bracelet and necklace I slipped on my flat white ballet pumps and went down stairs. I grabbed a small clutch bag and checked it's contents before I picked up my car keys and went out the front door. Having slipped my bag under the passengers seat I then started the car which burst into life with a roar, then selected the hood of the Porsche Cayman convertible down. It had been a birthday present from my lover, pure brilliant white and with the reg K 3 RRY. I put on my big dark sun glasses then set off down the gravel drive to meet Richard in London. Nothing effects the ego of a male drive more than a pretty girl in a fast car, and although a few BMW's Merc's and Audi's tried to race me I was more than happy doing 50mph and enjoying the sun shine. It was just before lunch when I arrived in Kensington and pulled into the familiar secure underground parking of where I had once lived, and parked not in what had once been my space but behind Richards Audi. Having retrieved my bag I headed to the stairs not the lift. How many times in the early days of being forcibly cross-dressed had I sprinted for these stairs hoping not to be seen and recognised. Then out into the foyer, the flat ballet pumps silent not the usual click of heels as I made my way to Richards door and rang the bell. Richard open the door, a big smile on his face, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me "Kerry darling" he said then immediately apologised. Like the first time we had met, last September when I had dropped my door keys, he was dressed in running kit and perspiring. "Sorry but I need a shower" he said as we made our way into the familiar apartment. Whilst he showered I helped myself to a cold drink and looked around the apartment. There was no trace of Veronica's presence, I stopped and looked at the photo taken just under a year ago at the "Willing Maiden" when Richard had taken both Kate and I out, early days of my permanent femininity. He reappeared about 20 minutes later dressed in chinos and a short sleeve polo shirt. "trying to keep fit are we" I joked but he just smiled back the said "well I need to get into that damned silly suit you want me to wear on Saturday". That really set the tone of the conversation for the rest of the afternoon as we strolled around Hyde Park, discussing the finer details of the wedding that Richard was worrying about. I was glad of his company and tenderness after the hostile solitude of Scotland but as the sun began to set I reluctantly began the journey home back to Kent, happy and excited at my forthcoming marriage. Monday had dawned so different from yesterday as only it can in England. Low dark clouds scudded quickly over the Kentish countryside a fine damp drizzle consistently falling, as had the temperatures. That was why today I was dressed in a brown boots, brown opaque tights, a short red corduroy skirt and thin cream cotton ribbed roll neck jumper. Once again I had headed up into London, this time to the Docklands to meet the lovely Kate. Parking was limited but I used Kate's allocated space as she had not driven in that morning. I grabbed my umbrella and made my way to the front of the office block and through the rotating doors into the cavernous reception area of the company I had worked for as Kate's PA. The square 3 inch heels of my light brown suede boots clicked on the floor as instead of making my way to the lift and the 13th Floor I made my way to the reception desk. The same unsmiling pair, the dragon lady and the starring man who only made eye contact with your breasts every time you crossed the foyer. Today was no different, and he told me to take a seat whilst he phoned up to Kate's new PA. On reflection the seat I took was the one Sir Donald McInnery was in when I had first met him, back towards the lift. I remember him "checking out" the PA sent to escort him upstairs, what would he think now of that young girl. Whether it was a soft spot or a sense of guilt that I had been attacked not only at his hotel, but at his ball by one of his most entrusted employees, he had offered us the use of his Paris Penthouse for my honeymoon. That was the plan, then when it was less busy at work for my partner we would head out to the Maldives. The lift door open and I turned instinctively in my seat expecting to see workers off on an early lunch or Kate's new PA, instead it was Kate. I was shocked by what I saw. I had expected her to look tired after a week away on business, and having only flown into Heathrow that morning, but she looked grey and shaken, even her lovely rust red hair could not detract from that. I got up and we embraced then kissed each other, like old girlfriends do. Before I could say anything she said "I need a coffee, I'll tell you then" I wrapped my arm through hers and we walked out into the drizzle, towards the nearby coffee shop. As I waited for the coffees I glanced at her over my shoulder she seemed vacant staring into space. I walked back to the table and brushed my skirt under me as I sat. I reached over and took Kate's hand, it was trembling slightly. "whats wrong" I asked. "They've made me VP Europe" she said shakily. "Wow" I replied stunned by Kate's meteoric rise through the company. "Its not that thought Kerry. Do you remember Clifton Spencer the HR Director". How could I have forgotten that creep who had forced me to my knees in front of his bulging groin in my own office, though I doubt he would forget me after I had rammed my fist into his groin. I nodded. What Kate said next stunned me. "He's dead. Committed suicide on Friday night just stopped his car and jumped off the Queen Elizabeth Bridge" I gasped "I had to talk to his wife this morning, poor woman's distraught, and her girls. Apparently he lost a small fortune on the stock market" We sat in silence holding hands, "Hell of a first morning as Vice President" I said as I squeezed Kate's hands. She smiled and looked up from her coffee, and squeezed mine back "Thanks, honey. You all set for the wedding ?" We chatted for nearly an hour about the wedding, the details and about Richards worries and questions. Then it was time for Kate to head back to work. The drizzle had stopped as we walked arm in arm back to the office block where I kissed Kate goodbye. She still looked down. "See you on Saturday" I said and she smiled "Wouldn't miss it for the world Kerry" she said and kissed me back. I turned away and headed towards the my car, and I wondered how Kate would feel on Saturday watching me walk down the aisle, and not her. Tuesday and Wednesday flew by. A visit to the the venue, florist and caterers and trying to fit in remembering my vows for the ceremony. Then there was the visit by the beautician and stylist to discuss hair and make up, there hardly seemed a spare second in the day. Thursday morning was thick fog, the lack of sunlight streaming through the curtains explained why I had slept through till nearly 9am, that and the events of nearly a month catching up on me. What had woken me though was the phone ringing, and I fumbled for it on the bed side table. The voice on the other end was authoritative yet friendly and I recognised it as the voice of Detective Sergeant Angela Sneap, who had been my liaison officer after my rape. Half asleep we exchanged the usual pleasantries then she cut to the chase. "Saturday morning Kerry, Essex police recovered a body from the Thames Estuary, the DNA matches that of your other attacker so as far as we're concerned now your case is officially closed, and we are stopping the voluntary DNA testing of those men present at the balI". I was stunned and remembered the imagines produced in court over a week ago, they showed two men, but who had held the camera, and I said as such to her, as she replied I was only half listening, insufficient evidence to prove other persons involved, yet I knew this was all about damned Police Statistics, case closed, case solved, looked good on the books. I put the phone back in its cradle and began to cry and cry. I had just about pulled myself together by lunch time, the police Sergeants words going over and over in my head, then a light bulb moment as I remembered Kate's conversation on Monday. The body had been recovered on Saturday by Essex police from the Thames Estuary, so unidentifiable it had needed DNA testing. Clifton Spencer had jumped the 213 feet from the Queen Elizabeth bridge to his death in the Thames on friday evening. I turned on my iPad and looked at the London Stock Exchange history, then the Dow and other major exchanges. There were no major losses in the last week that would have caused Clifton Spencer to have jumped to his death, the only thing that had happened that Friday was the conviction of Peter James. He had tried before, and despite his flowered apologies I now believed, even if the police would not tell me that he had been the second man in the images I had been forced to identify in court. One thing was for sure I never wanted his wife or his daughters to find out what he had been and why he had really jumped to his death as the police net tightened on my attackers. It was now over. I spent Friday morning carefully selecting and packing outfits for my honeymoon, so difficult when the weather was so changeable. Just before lunch Lucy arrived and whisked the cases over to the hotel so that they would be ready for me in the Bridal suite then joined me back at the house or mansion as she liked to call it. Then the beautician arrived. She was a very discrete lady, who knew that there was more to me than met the eye, but had no problem giving me a body wax, and a Brazilian. That made Lucy giggle, I think the champagne had gone to her head on an empty stomach, as she had the whole lot whipped off when it was her turn. By the end of the evening we had both been waxed plucked pedicured and manicured all ready for tomorrow. My big day. I woke early, excited and nervous at the same time. To my surprise Lucy was already up and moving around the house, a few minutes latter she entered the bedroom wearing a frilly apron and carrying a tray with two orange juices on it and a cafeteria of coffee. As she turned to place the tray on the dressing table I could see she was naked underneath the apron, her bum cheeks very pert. Coffee poured she came and sat on the bed. "Ready for your big day then Princess" she joked as we sipped the coffee. In truth I felt far from ready, not helped by the fact that Madame Colbert still had the dresses in London and insisted on supervising the brides dressing. Nervously I went through the days timings, but Lucy just laughed "Your not the Groom or Best Man Kerry, you're the Bride, you can be as late as you want, enjoy it!" Coffee and juice finished I got out of bed and went to the en suite to shower. It felt strange not drying my hair, just keeping it damp wrapped in a towel, likewise not applying any make up. I put on a pair of old plain white panties, and although I didn't need a bra I slipped a plain white t shirt bra on, then a cream silk robe. Dressed I went down stairs to wait the beautician and hairstylist who was due at 9am. To my relief the lady was 5 minutes early. At her insistence she started first with Lucy, who now had some clothes on, doing her hair and make up, leaving me to last. She started by plating two long strands of auburn hair either side of her face then brought them back so that they joined into a larger plait at the back of her head, then did her make up. By 10:30 she had finished and it was my turn. She dampened my hair with a spray and began to style my honey golden long curls so that they fell naturally down to my shoulder blades. Then she curled two ringlets that framed my face, before starting the final touch which was to pile some of my long hair up on top of my head around which she wove in a crown of small white flowers. Then she began the make up, which seemed to take an age compared to the speed I could do it at now. Half way through I was relieved to hear the door bell go, then Madame Colbert's voice, followed by the rustling sound as the two dresses were brought into the house. It was mid day by the time my hair and make up were finished, and I was amazed at the results. The hair was stunning but the make up made me look a good 5 years younger, innocent and pure, just the slightest hint of eyeshadow to bring out the colour in my eyes. Whilst all this had been going on Madame Colbert had turned her attentions to Lucy and helped her dress in her bridesmaid dress. Very simple, curved neckline and short slightly puffed sleeves it flared from the waist to ankle length. The material was Navy blue and had a golden thread woven through it that caught the light as she moved. She looked stunning and I remembered the time she had been a bridesmaid, and how one wet summer her and a cousin had forced me into her bridesmaid dress during an afternoon of humiliating dress up. Then it was the turn of the bride to get ready and the beautiful Lucy and I retired back upstairs to the Master bedroom to begin my final preparations. Whist Lucy got my things ready I slipped out of the robe, bra and finally the panties. Even now both in our 20's I felt no embarrassment of being naked in front of my sister. She handed me a pair of white silky hipster panties with a single blue rose bud on the waist band (something blue). I slipped them up my smooth legs and quickly tucked away my small penis. Lucy shook her head in wonderment, " That still amazes me how you do that she said. Then came the smooth white Basque which I held against my front whilst Lucy wrapped it around me and began to fasten the numerous hook and eye catches down the back, there was no way I could get undressed alone tonight. Having threaded the suspender straps of the basque through my panties I took a sip of Champagne, leaving a smudge of delicate pale pink lipstick on the rim. Lucy opened two pairs of identical stockings, placing one pair in her small clutch bag. Most brides opt for white, but that's to stereotyped and a little sexist, instead I opted for nude but very glossy lace top stockings. Lucy wouldn't even let me fasten them, doing it herself to make sure the suspender straps hung perfectly straight. Then came the shoes, pale cream, about 2 1/2 inch box heeled with ankle strap. Again Lucy wouldn't let me bend over, and she slipped each one over my silk stockinged foot and fastened the ankle strap. I could feel my breathing quicken, and Lucy asked me if I needed a moment, I nodded, and she slipped quietly out the bedroom and back down the stairs. I paused and took a long look at myself in the mirror in my bridal underwear. Even the perfectionist in me was happy, I just hope when my partner to be slipped off my dress tonight that they would be equally as happy. Another sip of champagne and I was ready. Dressed only in my bridal underwear and shoes I left the master bedroom and clicked across the landing to the gently curved wooden stair case. My heels echoed on the wooden steps, and when half way around and down the stairs I was startled by a sudden flash. It was Lucy, camera in hand, she smiled saying "one for the album honey" then made me pose in my lingerie on the curved stairs, each photo and flash causing Madam Colbert to applaud. Eventually, photos complete I descended the stairs and clicked my way across the parquet flooring into the dinning room. The table had been pushed to one side and the floor covered with a sheet on which rested my gown. Madame Colbert indicated that I should step into the circle of white material but before I could Lucy stopped me, a garter in her hand. The lace was old slightly yellowed and the white cloth rosebud looked so fragile. For years it had sat on the shelf with my mothers head dress beside her wedding photo. I pointed my toe and Lucy slipped it up the shiny stocking to mid thigh, she looked up at me and smiled, "something old" she said. Then it was time for something new, and carefully I stepped into the circle of material. Madame Colbert with Lucy helping her slowly raised the gown so that I could slip my arms into the short sleeves. They fiddled with how it lay across my shoulders then began to fasten the numerous buttons down the back, 29 I believe, each one for a year of my life Madame Colbert had said. The dress was very simple, curved neck line like that of the bridesmaids dresses, short smooth and plain bodice that went to a skirt that flared out, with several deep pleats inlaid with the blue and gold material of the bridesmaids dresses. Then the final touches, the diamond triangular shaped necklace that Kate had insisted I wear for today. It had been her mothers that she had worn as a debutant at the palace. That was the something borrowed. Then Lucy handed me my bouquet from the dinning room table, plain white roses, blue lathyrus intwined with a gold ribbon. Outside a crunch of gravel on the drive announced the arrival of the wedding car, I checked the clock, 1:30pm only half an hour till I walked down the aisle. It was time and I left the the house for the last time as a single man, to return a kept woman. The 1924 cream Rolls Royce Silver Ghost sat engine idling on the drive. The grey suited chauffeur holding the car door wide open for me. I stepped inside and Lucy and Madame Colbert fussed over my skirts to ensure they were neither creased or trapped in the door. Lucy had just sat in the back with me, when her phone buzzed, she retrieved it from her small blue clutch bag, "they've arrived" was all she said and I breathed a sigh of relief as the car crunched down the gravel drive towards the country roads. The venue was about 20 minutes way, yet we arrived fashionably late. The car wound its way up the curving drive, across what had once been the moat of this Tudor Manor House. The title sounds grand but by today's standards it was small, the "Great Hall" where the ceremony would take place could only handle 80 people, upstairs only 7 bedrooms. The driver held open the door and having stepped out Lucy fussed over the skirts of the dress so they hung perfectly. The photographer was there snapping away, then it was time, through the great arched hallway with its thick double doors. I blinked going from the bright September afternoon into the relative darkness of the hallway. Through a small crack in the next set of thick oak doors I could see Richard ready and waiting, resplendent in his tails, busy adjusting his cravat, the damned silly suit I'd made him wear as he put it. I glanced down at my ring finger the diamond and sapphire engagement ring glistened back. I nodded to Lucy, the doors opened, and everyone turned as the bridal march started, that's when I saw Kate. She was lovely, stunning, beautiful and she was stood beside Richard. Her long red hair was pleated like the bridesmaids, from the front of her hair then down her back, yet hers was intwined with gold, blue and white ribbons, two small white flowers at the back. Her dress was silk, long and floaty, deep v down the back. It was only as I came closer that I realised the train of the dress hid two very flared trouser legs, yet stood still it looked like a dress. My stomach was all butterflies as I stopped at the head of the aisle beside Kate, Richard beside her, Caroline Bumstead from work behind her as her bridesmaid, dressed the same as Lucy who was standing behind me as my bridesmaid. Then the civil partnership began. The Registrar began. "Kerry, will you have Kate to be your partner, to live together in the covenant of faith, hope, and love according to the intention of God for your lives together in Jesus Christ? Will you listen to her inmost thoughts, be considerate and tender in your care of her, and stand by her faithfully in sickness and in health, and, preferring her above all others, accept full responsibility for her every necessity for as long as you both shall live?" My voice felt dry and croaky in the Great Hall "I do" "Kate, will you have Kerry to be your partner, to live together in the covenant of faith, hope, and love according to the intention of God for your lives together in Jesus Christ? Will you listen to Kerry's inmost thoughts, be considerate and tender in your care, and stand faithfully in sickness and in health, and, preferring Kerry above all others, accept full responsibility for every necessity for as long as you both shall live?" then Kate's voice pound and confident "I do" We then exchanged identical wedding rings, that caused a small chuckle from the congregation as Richard as best man had mixed them up and even as a slim size 10 there was no way I could get Kate's ring on my finger. We swapped rings and Kate slipped the simple gold band onto my finger beside the sapphire and diamond engagement ring. Kate took the lead and leant over and kissed me as the congregation applauded as the registrar said "congratulations Kate and Kerry Wade-Eddington" At last I had married my true love, Kate squeezed my hand gently and smiled at me as we walked back down the aisle through the double oak doors and out into glorious September afternoon. The photographer was waiting, and whilst canap?s and champagne were served to the guest on the lawns outside, Kate and I had numerous photos taken of us. Then back in the Tudor Manner House to the Orangery at its rear, Kate and I wound our way through the guests and up to the top table where Richard was already waiting flanked by the two lovely bridesmaids, but he only had eyes for one. After the meal came the speeches. I never have liked public speaking so it was Kate who stood to thank everyone, whilst I looked on adorably. Then it was Richards turn as Best Man, the usual jokes and a comment about how lucky he had been to have know two such beautiful women. I blushed, and was pleased that Richard had not found out that his flirtatious advances had been with a Cross dresser. Then it was back into the Great Hall were a bar and disco had been set up. Kate and I danced with each other and the guests till about 11pm then made a discrete exit. Hand in hand we climbed the wooden staircase that lead only to the Bridal Suite. The rooms lights were on in the room, giving it a warm glow. Still hand in hand Kate lead me through the lounge area, the table covered with flowers, and two crystal glasses with a bottle of champagne too. The bedroom area was large, as was the four poster bed that sat on the far wall, draped in voile, the jacquard white duvet pulled back slightly. Kate turned towards me, and slipped the silk gown from her shoulders, it slipped silently down her toned body, and she stepped from it naked apart from cream high heels and simple white satin thong. She took my hands again and kissed me, I could feel the warmth of her body through the thick material of my gown. Her arms wrapped around me and I felt her unfasten the first of the 29 buttons. As I felt the gown loosen, I broke away from the kiss and allowed the weight of the gown to let it fall to the ground. I turned and went to the bed were I laid down waiting for Kate, dressed in only my bridal lingerie and heels. I did not have to wait long. She crawled on to the bed, her soft delicate hands caressing the soft glossy nylon then the lace tops of my stockings. We kissed passionately my hands exploring her toned body, her perfect breasts. She knelt up and removed the small satin thong then as I arched my back she slipped my plain white panties down. We made love like we had not done for so long. Latter having helped me from the basque, we lay naked bodies entwined, Kate behind me slowly caressing my breasts and that's how we fell asleep. The grey light of dawn was just showing through a crack in the curtains when I was woken by Kate. We had spent nearly 3 weeks apart, and her sex drive was in overdrive, she had snuggled up behind me slipping one arm under a pillow so that she could hold and play with my breast and nipple. Her other arm lay across my left hip her left hand playing with my small penis that I could feel myself responding to her every touch. I tried to turn to kiss her but was unable too, her warm body entwined around mine pressed close. I could feel her erect nipples in my back, her short pubic hair against by buttocks as she gyrated her hips to the rhythm of her hand action. Then a sudden cool draft as she flung the duvet back and quickly straddled me. Her hands guided mine to her pert breasts which I slowly caressed as I felt her delicate fingers guide my small manhood. There was a sudden warmth, Kate arched her back as I penetrated her, giving out a small moan. Then she began rocking gently back and forth controlling the tempo. Slow at first, her nipples hardened and enlarged to my touch, then still mounted on top of me should moved my hands from her breast and thrust my arms up and over my head. I was focused entirely on Kate, her long red hair cascading over her pale shoulders, her unrestrained breasts bobbed as she rocked slowly backed and forth. Then a gentle hiss as from under the pillow she retrieved a glossy nude stocking from yesterday, quickly she bound my wrists to one of the top posts of the bed. Given my past she was not being insensitive, in fact after my attack she had avoided sex, until I was ready, only very slowly reintroducing the kinkier elements as and when I was ready. Which is why I knew what was coming. As she bent over to secure my wrists her long red locks caressed my new breast, happy I was secure she turned her attention and her tongue towards them. She moved now to kneel beside me still playing with my breasts her spare hand keeping me firm, teasing me to the point of almost cumming, but she was not ready. Then I heard the click, then the gentle hum of her vibrator but could not see it, just the pleasure in her face. Slowly the frequency of the buzzing increased as she continued to tease me and herself to the point of orgasm, whilst I laid helpless beside her, then a long deep moan from her followed by a hot jet of semen escaping from my penis, that seem to cool instantly as it trickled over my smooth stomach. Having had breakfast delivered to our room I found my self 2 hours latter finishing getting dressed ready to go off on honeymoon. A lacy cream balcony bra with frill straps supported my new breast, the silky smooth panties matched. Around my waist a deep suspender belt which four frilly straps supported the traditional natural stockings the tone of which increased closer to the reinforced stocking top. My cream high heels with ankle strap silent on the carpet as I retrieved my chosen outfit from the wardrobe and laid it on the bed. As I did so I wondered how my brides, or for that matter grooms had consummated their marriage secured to its four post. A smile came across my face as I thought of the bed back home that Kate and I would now be sharing. I finished fastening the cream blouse, it's buttons hidden by the ruffled front, then came the pale green pencil skirt, which I pulled up so I could pull the blouse taught through the skirts waist band, then the matching jacket. I flicked my long golden curls from under it's collar and waited for Kate. She got up from the dressing table having plaited her long red hair loosely in a single pleat down her back. She supported her naked breasts with her hand as she crossed the floor in her pink satin thong, nude hold up stockings and pale pink heels. She slipped the pale pink strapless dress over her head and fastened the side zipper smoothing it into place. Together we made our way down the private staircase and to the small reception area. As I passed the Orangery I caught a glimpsed of Richard arms across the table holding hands with those of a woman who was obscured from view by a pillar. As Kate finalised a few things and we waited for our cases to be brought down I stepped out through the great wooden doors onto the gravel drive outside. The car that was waiting to take us to Ashford station sat idling, the driver of the Merc E class got out. "Mrs Wade-Eddington" he enquired, caught slightly off guard I paused, then blushed " err yes" how strange to hear my new name and not Mr or even Miss or Ms. He held open the door and I sat into the air conditioned leather inferior, slightly twisted, then straighten up bringing my legs into the car in the most lady like manner I could manage. Whilst the luggage was loaded in the boot the other door was held wide for Kate who slipped inside with effortless grace into the rear seat to join me. During the short journey to Ashford Kate and I held hands in the back of the car, Oblivious to the Kent countryside as it went past, we had eyes only for each other. It seemed hardly minutes before we were on the station bags around us awaiting the Eurostar to Paris Gare du Nord station and our short Parisian Honeymoon. Less than an hour latter, the train burst into the sunlight of Northern France, beside us two untouched coffees as we held hands across the table, Kate unknowingly playing with the diamond and sapphire engagement ring and wedding ring on my fingers. Inside the air conditioned train it was cool, but outside huge cumulonimbus thunder clouds were beginning to form in the early afternoon heat, then the green rolling Northern French countryside disappeared and we entered the grey, graffitied outer suburbs of Paris before arriving at the Gare Du Nord.. The station was busy, people going in various directions, onward connections, the Metro and outside, some to taxis, other illegal cabs that would rip tourists off. A Black Moroccan tried to steer Kate and I to one such car, but received a fluent tongue lashing from Kate in French, then for good measure a slap across his face, that caused a passing gendarme to merely laugh. A properly registered Renault Espace taxi pulled up, the driver quickly jumping out to fend off the other drivers, before he began to load our cases into the luggage compartment. Kate went around the other side and her lose dress allowed her to glide effortless into the high seats, I on the other hand had to grab the hem of my tight skirt and hitch it high as I climbed into the high seat. Below the raised hem, the slight glimpse of frilled cream suspender strap then the three tones of the welt of my natural nylon stocking top. Then an almost comical moment, a man passing by did a double take as I hitched my skirt high to reveal my stockings, his gaze so intent that he walked straight into a lamppost. Kate and I were still giggling at his misfortune as the taxi pulled away. The taxi took us through the streets of Paris, down the Rue La Fayette, past the Opera and Place Vendome down to the Place De la Concorde and up the Champs ?lys?es up to the Arc De Triumph before turning off left down a side street towards the Seine. As the car pulled up the Concierge, who had obviously been expecting Sir Donald's two lady quests appeared. Having payed the driver, we made our way through the double doors and into the marbled foyer of the building. A staircase spiralled around an old cage lift, into which the greying Parisian placed our bags before introducing himself to us. He shut the cage doors and pressed the button to the 4th floor. Sir Donald's Paris apartment occupied the entire floor. The decor, very traditional, but the rooms so light and airy as light flooded in through the balconied French Windows. The Eiffel tower clearly visible across the roof tops, just across the tree lined river, from the other side of the apartment the Sacra-Coeur, a truly panoramic view of the City of Lovers. The concierge placed our cases in the Master bedroom, but latter we elected to move them into the smaller bedroom that overlooked the Eiffel tower. As I put the last case on the bed it knocked Kate's handbag onto the floor spilling some of its contents. I picked up her Blackberry and her purse which was nearly under the bed and slipped them back into her bag. The next few days were idilic we strolled the Parisian streets and visited the tourist attractions arm in arm, spending late into the evening dinning at the numerous fine restaurants. On the third day whilst walking along the Seine back from Notre Dame, the autumnal heat caused the large towering thunder clouds to break in a torrential down pour, that soaked us literally to the skin by the time we had reached the apartment. The apartment door had only just shut as we began to strip off our sodden clothes. My white linen summer dress, that had become nearly see through when soaked, dropped to the wooden floor, joined quickly by my shoes and underwear as Kate lead me through to the second bedroom that faced the Eiffel tower. Naked and damp we fell onto the bed giggling, our hands gently caressing each other, then we began slow passionate kisses that lead to us making love again for the third time that day. I woke with Kate's arms wrapped around me as she had snuggled up behind me. The apartment was in darkness the only light coming from the street below and the illuminated tower. I was beginning to feel hungry and decided that it was time to get ready to dine out that evening. Silently I slipped from the bed and walked naked into the bathroom to shower and wash my hair. The noise of the shower had obviously woken Kate for as I returned to the bedroom the lights of the apartment were all turned on, a glass of champagne sparkled on the dressing table. Naked she came from the bed and kissed me, my towel fell to the floor as she caressed my breasts before she giggled and slipped into the bathroom. Having retrieved the towel I sat at the dressing table to style and dry my honey blonde curled hair and apply some make up. That done I slipped on a matching black satin bra and panties then sat on the bed to pull on some thick black opaque hold up stockings, before getting my dress from the wardrobe. It was very simple, it had a square neckline and short sleeves, and came to just above the knee and was a bright red colour. I slipped it over my head and wriggled it down over my hips into place. As I steeped into my 3 inch high black patent heels I fastened the side zipper under the arm. From my jewellery box I retrieved a simple silver chain with a small crucifix on it, and walked across to the long mirror to fasten it around my neck. My fingers fumbled with the catch, which was quite tricky with my long red nails and the chain fell to the floor the crucifix sliding under the valence of the bed. I uttered a little curse and got down on my hands and knees and swept my hand slowly under the divan to find it. I felt something much larger though and slid it out from under the valence. To my surprise it was an old IPhone 3 which I placed on the bed and once again began my search for the chain. Having retrieved the chain and successful put it on I picked up the phone and my glass of champagne and as Kate was still showering headed into the lounge. I took as sip of champagne and left a familiar telltale smudge of lipstick around its rim, then curiosity got the better of me and I picked up the phone and turned it on. The standard screen saver of planet Earth came up so I slide the screen to unlock it. Just the basic apps came up nothing new added there to identify the owner so I pressed the Contacts App. Only 2 mobile numbers stored under PJ and CATS which could have been anyone. My curiosity deepened as to the owner of the phone but began to suspect that as it was under the bed in the second bedroom, that it belonged to Sir Donald's son Lindsay. I clicked on the photo app, but there were no albums stored just the Camera roll from the phone. I pressed on it and instantly recognised the scene as that of the winter ball. The first few photos were just of random people in party mode, then a shot of the dance floor, in which Hugo was twirling me around in my green ball gown, a leering Clifton Spencer watching on from near the vase were I had left my drink that had had a date rape drug slipped into it. An innocent enough photo, yet it confirmed my suspicions that he had been my second assailant. I took another sip of champagne and with hand shaking slightly swiped to the next picture. Kate had heard the breaking glass and the thud as I had collapsed onto the floor. Now we sat in the first class carriage of the Eurostar heading back towards Ashford. I could feel myself shaking as if in a fever and let out a silent sob as I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I could not stay in that apartment any longer, for that phone had belonged to my third assailant who had stood by and photographed as I was bound and raped in my hotel room. It was from that phone that Peter James had been emailed the graphic images that had been stored on his computer that had been shown to the predominately male jury at his trial. I remember little of the journey back to Ashford or the taxi ride back to our home in the Kentish countryside. Kate helped me into bed and gave me a sedative and I drifted into a deep sleep. I woke to hear voices coming from downstairs, and got out of bed. I was still wearing the black underwear from yesterday so I slipped a dressing gown on. Kate's side of the bed looked un slept in. I found Kate and Lucy in the Kitchen, in a hushed but heated conversation over the contents of the phone that lay on the breakfast bar between them. They fell silent as I entered the kitchen. Having poured myself a coffee I joined them at the breakfast bar. Lucy was the first to break the silence "Kerry you've got to hand this to the police - its evidence" "Evidence that's useless" butted in Kate "we can't prove whose phone it is and it's covered in our fingerprints now" "It was in Sir Donald's private apartment" replied Lucy "surely that's evidence enough" "I was with him downstairs whilst Kerry was attacked" said Kate her voice rising slightly. "his son" I said very quietly and both girls turned to me "his son was at the ball, and the phone was in the second bedroom. Only Sir Donald his family and us have use that apartment" "Lindsay ?" said Kate shocked remembering the shy nervous son from our brief stay at Sir Donald's home, who had seemed mesmerised by the young female company. "he knows James as well" i said, before Lucy interrupted with "tell the police that then" "Jesus" exclaimed Kate "the press was bad enough at the trial, if his sons involved it will ruin the old man" I had to agree with Kate, the fact that a trusted employee at his ball in one of his hotels had raped me was bad enough, even worse if his son was implicated too. "the police case is closed Lucy - but I want justice" "that's if he is guilty" said Kate "well there's only one way to find out" replied Lucy. A hush descended over the Kitchen then Kate said "agreed." A week latter I was sat in the front passenger seat of the hired ford mondo estate, parked up in the Edinburgh side street surrounded by what had once been tenements but were now mainly student accommodation. It was just around the corner from a thriving area of clubs and bars frequented mainly by those students, and we hoped tonight one in particular. It was mid September the start of a new university year and for Lindsay McInnery it was his second year, and although shy probably keen to sample the new talent that had arrived in town. In the back of the car my sister Lucy sat and waited with Kate and myself, she was heavily made up, her clothes revealing despite the chill of this September Saturday, she may be 27 but she easily looked 19 that night. With a nod to us in the mirror she slipped out the back door and headed to a doorway 3 doors down and hid from view of the street, and we waited. 20 minutes latter we saw him coming. Dressed in jeans and t shirt with a fleece his mousey brown hair long and slightly unkept. Kate flashed the headlights of the car three times to alert Lucy that he was coming and we waited. All those years studying drama came to fruition that night, for as Lindsay McInnery past a stone cold sober Lucy staggered slightly in her ridiculously high heels down the stairs of the tenement and into the arms of Lindsay. A brief chat, a flick of her auburn hair and they were soon walking down the street together, no one would have guessed she was a lesbian, she had caught him hook line and sinker. Then more waiting, 8,9, then 10 pm and then Kate's phone rang. She started the car and drove around the corner, 300 yards along was Lucy in a a theatrical but heated argument with the bouncer, Lindsay McInnery lay prone on the pavement. Kate pulled up on the double yellow lines and we both left the car to help him back into the car, the bouncer seeing 3 girls struggling to get a friend home reluctantly helped put Lindsay in the back of the car. Drunk and drugged he was now ours. 45 minutes latter we were back at the remote and isolated rented cottage. Despite his slight build it took the three of us to man handle Lindsay into the Kitchen of the cottage with its stone flagged floors. We removed the seat cushion for the kitchen chair, and having stripped him to his y fronts tied him securely to the chair. Then a further wait ! He woke with a start and tried to talk, his eyes widened with fear when he realised he was stripped to his underwear and bound to a chair. A mutated scream alerted us to the fact that he was awake and we moved from the lounge where we had been dozing through to the kitchen. He knew Kate and I so we remained behind him out of view but he must have heard our heels click on the slate floor. Lucy stepped before him and his eyes showed a glimmer of recognition of the girl he had been drinking with last night. She slapped him hard across the face, so hard the chair rocked from side to side. He stopped screaming and Lucy talked in a calm almost evil voice telling him he would be safe if he answered her questions then she asked him if he understood. He nodded, then she slowly removed his gag and began to question him. She started slowly asking who he was, and Lindsay blurted his name out saying his father would pay a ransom, he soon realised that was not what Lucy wanted. She asked about the ball and as she did so she cut his y fronts from his body allowing his penis and testicles to hang low and vulnerable in the frame of the chair. His eyes were wide with fear as she showed him the images on the phone and he shook his head furiously as he denied any knowledge. There was a sickening scream as Lucy's foot struck under the chair and kicked his exposed genitalia, sending him rocking back on the chair. It happened several times before he confessed that it was his phone. My sister hated men at the best of times but this was a man, no almost a boy who had hurt her family. It was Kate who through the water over him, bringing him back round. His showed no knowledge of knowing or having met her before, yet I remained out of view. She deliberately place a tape recorder in his view and switched it on, the toe of her shoe teasing his bruised balls under the hollow chair, making sure he confessed again, this time without the pain. Then she switched it off, slowly leaning forward so he was afforded a view of her ample Cleavage. "so now what Lindsay" she said "think the police would like this, but what would a nice pretty boy like you do in prison" Slowly she leaned forward again showing more cleavage and removed his gag "please please not that he plead, anything but that" the she slipped the gag back in. "Well you heard him ladies" said Kate and a twinkle came in her eyes " I think I have the perfect punishment." We left a cold frightened and naked Lindsay in the kitchen and went back to the lounge to discuss his fate. That was almost seven months ago now, and my story is up to date. I am sitting at the desk in the bay window of the study that overlooks the garden, now full of spring flowers and daffodils. The valley beyond hidden by yet another rain shower. I am dressed in a grey silk wrap dress, underneath a full length black slip. The underwear as ever expensive and sexy. Black and red matching bra and panties with a deep waist clincher style suspender belt with the same style of metal hook and eyes that caused the security scanner to bleep all those months ago at Edinburgh airport. Since then it had been a roller coaster ride of emotions from pure joy and freedom to sheer terror and depression. I move in my seat and hear the hiss of black nylon stocking against nylon stocking. But now life is good, I am totally at ease with who I am, in appearance a successful women in her early thirties, happy in my partnership with the beautiful Kate. Kate has been tipped for further promotion at work, maybe even CEO one day. She may be working hard but she also plays hard too, and there is never a dull moment when we are together. Apart from her the only family I have is Lucy, though I don't see much of her these days. Her relationship with Kate over the years has gone unmentioned. As for that hot date it turned out to be a very well know actress, and she is in LA with her now. I won't say who as her sexuality is still very much a secret. At work Hannah Gordold took over as HR Director after Clifton Spencer's suicide and Hugo took over from Kate in Mergers and Acquisitions. Caroline Bumstead, Kate's bridesmaid, and the girl so desperate to get married to change her surname is next month, after a whirlwind romance to non other than Richard. It wasn't until we got the wedding invitation that we found out Richards surname, Goodheed, poor girl. As for my assailants, Pete James is still in Peterhead prison but in solitary confinement after several assaults. I hope he screamed like a girl as they held him down and raped him, and he remembered all of his sexual assaults. Without doubt I now believe Clifton Spencer was the second rapist, a fact I want keeping from his family. As HR director he had met Pete James several times, whether the assault was planned after I humiliated him I will never know. What still puzzles me is Lindsay McInnery, and how he became inv