Maggie Mae - Intro free porn video

Maggie Mae - Intro by Kelly Newman Spring 2002 in London and Giles Fuller was, to all intents and purposes, a success. At 31 years old he was the co-owner of a firm with his business partner, Ralph Lethbridge, also 31 years old, that specialised in bio-technology with an office in London near Tower Bridge and a laboratory on the outskirts of Cambridge. Giles and Ralph had met at Cambridge University in the early 1990s where they were both studying biology. Both men had similar backgrounds: upper middle class, public school educated; and shared the same outlook: true blue with a born to rule air derived from privilege and that public school education. Both men were also rugger boy handsome. In Giles' case he was 6 foot tall and graced with an athletic physique (and truth be told a penis of ample length and girth to boot) combined with a ruggedly handsome face and deep brown eyes topped with brown, nearly black hair. Ralph was as tall if a little slighter but had the good looks, devilish grin and floppy hair to lend comparison with a certain English film star. Neither man was married yet - despite a string of girlfriends each. Giles was an only child who had never been particularly close to his parents. Their deaths in a road accident in 1995 whilst holidaying in Europe only served to bring home to him how apart he had grown from them. During public school Ralph had become increasingly estranged from his mother after his father died and she took up with another man. Ralph had a sister he rarely saw. In some respects the only family the two men had was each other; their lives were their work, socialising within their posh circle and their occasional dalliances with girls. The two men had started their firm, 'BioLife', after Cambridge with money from their trust funds, supplemented in Giles' case from his inheritance when his parents died. BioLife was doing very well and their former professor, Dr Ronald Underwood, who now worked for them, was developing an amazing rejuvenation process he called 'Re-Gen'. Re-Gen was at the cutting edge of DNA research. Put simply it replicated genetic material and Dr Underwood and his team were using it to regenerate body parts. They had already had success replicating internal organs and even limbs for diseased or disabled laboratory animals. But this had been kept quiet because the ultimate aim was more ambitious: to regenerate the human body itself: to mend major disfigurement; to cure cancer; to reverse the aging process. Dr Underwood was on the verge of creating a cure all for all known ills simply by recreating a person as he or she was prior to an illness - a process that could give a person weeks, months, even years of his or her life back. All was not well with Giles, however. Giles had been leading discussions with the Government about Re-Gen since its health benefits were obvious and funding had followed accordingly. But Giles had begun to suspect that his erstwhile partner was having separate discussions with the Government, in particular the Ministry of Defence, as to the benefits of Re-Gen. Giles did not want Re-Gen to become a defence project, not because he was particularly opposed to the defence industry - he had no political hang-ups and knew a defence project would still pay well - but more because he feared a loss of control if Re-Gen became a defence project and the subsequent inevitable secrecy would mean the money and prestige that would otherwise be his, would be gone. There was also another side to Giles, one he had confessed to no-one, ever. Giles had always had, as he saw it, a slightly kinky side. In public school he had experimented with homosexuality, but then most of them had. Beyond that, though, Giles had an interest in mild bondage domination and sado-masochism and women's underwear. Essentially, Giles liked to fantasise about being dominated by older, rougher women. He had never acted out this fantasy until about a year ago. Having reached 30 Giles had started to feel something was missing. He had started to become bored of the endless procession of pretty, young socialites he dated - and regularly fucked. He had started visiting Maggie, a mature dominatrix. Margaret Robertson - or Maggie as she was often known - was from the school of hard knocks. Escaping a broken home and miserable childhood in Essex shortly after her 16th birthday in late 1968, Maggie had drifted into the London pop scene as a dancer and aspiring model. Life was good at first. Maggie was young, blonde, pretty, with a then slightly unfashionable hour glass figure. As the 1960s became the 1970s and the pop scene morphed into the heavy rock scene, Maggie became the classic rock chick. Whilst she never dated anyone especially famous beyond the bass player of a fairly famous band, she certainly fucked a lot of them. Her drug use also changed as the decade progressed. By the end of the 1970s Maggie was a heroin addict and hanging with a gang of Hells Angels. After falling out with them, she ended up a prostitute working the streets. Somewhere along the way a daughter she had was taken into care. It was all in danger of ending in a horrific mess when a friend on the game was murdered. It was 1982, Maggie was approaching 30 and she gave up prostitution there and then. With the help of the few friends in the music business she had left, Maggie cleaned herself up, got a Council flat and even got a job in a factory. Maggie found it mind numbing - she had never been especially bright at school and had no qualifications but she had a certain cunning and a keen sense of survival. Within a couple of months Maggie had found new work as a cleaner and later also worked in a bar but this all only lasted a year or so - the cleaning job was as mind numbing as the factory job; the bar work put her dangerously close to far too much alcohol. Maggie decided running her own business was the way to go. She got work in a hairdresser's salon whilst she put her ideas together. After three years of scrimping and saving, Maggie managed to wangle her way out of her Council flat into a Council house in Balham, South London, by fucking a Council housing officer. She promptly bought the house at a knock down rate and chucked the housing officer. It was late 1987, Maggie was 35 and it was time to do like the Tories said and get on yer bike. Maggie set up discreetly as a dominatrix and provider of dressing services to transvestites. Business boomed and after a couple of years Maggie was able to leave her job at the salon. By 2002, Maggie was an experienced mistress to all her naughty sissies. At 49, Maggie's days as a waif like heroin addict were long gone. Maggie was a naughty, busty, 'pear shaped' size 20 with a tremendous 45DD bust, a jelly belly that gave her a 39'' waistline, a large bum and thunder thighs that gave her 47-48'' hips, from top hip to bottom hip. Her face was still quite attractive if more brassy than pretty with large pale blue eyes, still high cheekbones and a double chin. Maggie's weakness for the tanning bed plus her smoking habit gave her skin a leathery look and her backcombed blonde hairdo perhaps owed too much to the 1980s, but with her French manicured nails and flirty butterfly tattoo on her left upper back the woman still radiated a rampant sexuality. She had always borne something of a resemblance to the singer Bonnie Tyler and that still held true - if Bonnie Tyler had put on a lot of weight. When in character as 'Madame Mae', Maggie would often wear a corset that pushed up her large, slightly sagging bust, drew in her waist and gave her curves to die for, combined with full makeup, large dangly earrings, stockings and suspenders and killer 6'' stilettos that put her 5'5'' height on a par with most men. And Giles was now one of Maggie's regular sissies. Every week he would see Madame Mae. After Giles had handed over the money for the session, Madame Mae would usually have Giles strip whilst berating him for being a naughty girl. Madame Mae would then order Giles, or Jenny as she called him once stripped, to put on the suspender belt, stockings and suspenders she gave him. She would then humiliate Giles by ordering him to lick her stilettos, bend over her knee for a spanking or tie him with lace. Giles would always meekly comply and would always be aroused. The session usually ended with Madame Mae dildoing Giles' arsehole whilst masturbating him and sometimes she would even fuck him with a strap on - if he'd been particularly naughty. But today was Monday and Giles was focused on business, specifically what to do about Ralph. Truth be told he had a plan that he had conceived over the weekend - it was time to put it into action. Giles buzzed for his PA, Portia, to come into his office and in a flash, as business-like as ever, there she was. Portia had been Giles' PA for a number of years. A posh 27 year old former debutante, Portia Frensham, had left her finishing school at 18 and lived happily off her trust fund until Daddy tired of her not getting married and decided she should get a job. Unhappy with this at first, particularly with having to go to secretarial college (naturally one that prided itself on producing dependable girls from good stock), Portia had soon realised that getting on as a PA opened up her social life - and her prospects of marriage. By the time she came to be employed at BioLife, Miss Frensham was every inch the stand out professional PA. She was always exceptionally well groomed with her lustrous brunette hair coiffed and well presented. Her lithe, 5'7'' figure was always dressed in nothing less than Jaeger suits or dresses and she wore her makeup and jewellery discreetly and tastefully. Heels were always designer and high with Miss Frensham. Naturally, there had been a certain sexual tension between the two boys and Portia at first - after all, Giles and Ralph would always compete against each other. Giles had been the winner, dating Portia for all of a couple of months before he realised that her ambitions of either marriage or general advancement were not compatible with his independence, as he put it. Portia just called him a shit. After that, though, the two found it easier to work together and Portia remained as Giles' PA. Ralph, on the other hand, seemed to go through secretaries far too easily - something that increasingly annoyed Giles - but Portia with her exceptional organisational skills and contacts would always sort things out. Giles indicated for Portia to sit down, and then began. "Portia, I want you to arrange a meeting at the labs with Ronald early this afternoon. Just the three of us, no one else. I want to go over some of the latest results with Ronald - it can't wait I'm afraid, which is why I need to see him and it'll just be me - I'll need you to take notes." "Really, Giles, if you just need me as a note taker, why don't you take Caroline - I'm sure Jenkins can spare her." Giles smiled: "Portia, when I say take notes to you, you know I mean it's more important than that but now is not the time and place to discuss it. Please just make the arrangements - and keep it confidential." "Ooh, I love it when you're masterful," vamped Portia and with a dry laugh she left Giles' office. That afternoon, at BioLife's laboratory, the meeting between Giles, Dr Underwood and Portia took place. Giles, leading the meeting, spoke first. "I've had my suspicions about Ralph's plans for Re-Gen for some time now. I believe he's talking with the Ministry of Defence behind my back about developing Re-Gen as a defence project - as you know, I'm implacably opposed to such a move - but I've never been able to turn up any proof. "So, I've come up with a plan. I propose to go on a four week business trip/holiday to California starting next week - I've been talking about meeting potential colleagues on the west coast of the States for some time and Ralph would probably be glad of me out of the way. However, I won't be out of the way, at all. I propose to use Re-Gen to disguise myself temporarily and work at the firm as a PA, Ralph's PA to be precise." At this Portia burst out laughing: "Giles, you've come up with some crazy ideas in your time, but this really takes the biscuit!" "I'm deadly serious - as a PA I can quietly access the firm's systems and records, as Ralph's PA I'll be in the perfect position to spy on him and expose him," replied Giles. "But you know what Ralph is like with his secretaries - he can't keep his hands off them - do you want that?" said Portia. "Which is why I propose to become this woman," said Giles and with a flourish he spun round the lap top he had in front of him. On the screen was Madame Mae's website. Portia was gobsmacked: "I'm sorry, have you lost your mind - you propose to become this, this, fat old tart?" "Portia, it's perfect. This woman is not known to any of us, she's not likely to be anywhere near the firm. And with her certain, ahem, looks Ralph is not going to be interested and she - I - can get on with my work. I could certainly do without any amorous advances from Mr Lethbridge - or any other Mr for that matter." "But, you're going to need her DNA," Portia trailed off and her eyes narrowed: "My God, Giles, you know this woman! You're one of her, what is it - 'punters' - aren't you? I thought you were low but this is really something!" "Calm down, Portia, for God's sake! Yes, I have seen 'Madame Mae' as she's called. But what I do in my own time is no business of yours, is it?" said Giles looking Portia straight in the eye. "No, no it's not," and with that Portia glanced away. Giles turned to Dr Underwood: "Ronald, you've been sitting quietly through this - what do you think?" "About you seeing a dominatrix, Giles, or about your plan to become this woman?" replied Dr Underwood. Giles smiled, Ronald often said things that were unintentionally amusing - the man was so focused. He had been a brilliant Cambridge biologist who had taught both Giles and Ralph. When a few years ago a brief homosexual fling with a student had threatened his career and capsized his marriage, Giles and Ralph had come to the rescue and given him the job with BioLife. Now, in his early forties, Dr Ronald Underwood was more content and richer than he'd been as a Cambridge fellow. All he seemed to need in life was stimulating work - and enough money to support his ex-wife and kids. "About my plan to become this woman, naturally, Ronald," airily responded Giles. "Can it be done and can you change me back afterwards?" "It's risky - you're talking about using the Re-Gen process not just to regenerate but to change your physical appearance in a radical way using other genetic material and then change back. It could kill you." "But can it be done?" said Giles with an element of exasperation. "Yes, Giles, I believe it can be. I'd need the DNA - a lock of hair would do. We'd also need to deal with the hormonal issues by blocking the flow of testosterone and flooding your body with oestrogen. If the process was run for one week here then halted the changes would take hold over the following week or so but would not be permanent. I imagine, for instance, you would retain your primary sexual organs. Otherwise, for all intents and purposes, you'd be this woman. The change would then last until we used Re-Gen to change you back. With an intensive application I believe that could be done in a week." Dr Underwood was now sounding as excited as he ever did - any doubts clearing at the challenge presented. "Excellent, so we give it four weeks: Two weeks to transform me; one week as Ralph's PA; one week to change me back," said Giles. "But Giles, for God's sake, it could kill you! Have you not realised that?" said Portia. "Portia, I didn't know you cared? Listen, sooner or later Re-Gen's potential has to be explored. Testing on animals isn't enough. I know we've talked about approaching a terminally ill patient or a burns victim but this begins here. And imagine the kudos - we used Re-Gen to transform a fit young male into a large older woman and back again! It would be a coup so great that we'd be celebrated and rich. And Ralph would never be able then to do some deal on the quiet that sells the project to the military." "As ever, you've got it all worked out, haven't you Giles?" said Portia peevishly, "So why do you need me?" "Because, my dear Portia, you're going to teach me how to be a PA, and a woman. Then you're going to get me into the firm to cover for you and the vacant position of Ralph's PA whilst you're away owing to a sudden family crisis," said Giles with some satisfaction. "Oh, very good, and you think you can replace secretarial college with, what, a week's tuition from me? Not to mention learning to be a mature woman?" "Portia, Portia, Portia, you underestimate yourself. I know you can do it. Besides, I can type already and what did you learn in that fancy secretarial college other than deportment and how to bag a husband?" with that Giles gave a smug laugh directed at Dr Underwood, who merely smirked. "Alright, smarty pants, I'll do it - if only to see you try to cope with patronising bullshit like that," retorted Portia. "Ok then, we're on. And remember, only the three of us are in on this. Dr Underwood I want you to transform me personally in a sealed off lab. No one, repeat no one, is to know about any of this," said Giles. With that the three worked out the fine details of the plan. On the drive back down to London in Giles' masculine blue BMW Z3 convertible, Giles and Portia said little. This suited Giles fine. He had done it! He had managed to appear professional, calm and in control the entire time and continued to do so. The reality was he was in a state of quiet excitement. Deep down, if he was being honest with himself, Giles wanted to explore dressing as a woman. However, he had never done so out of fear, shame and the belief that with his rugged masculinity he wouldn't look convincing. He hadn't even had the courage to do so with Madame Mae. Yet, here was his chance to live out the fantasy in a way no one, not even the most dedicated transsexual, could do and then go back without anyone realising what he truly was. Ever the gentleman, Giles drove Portia all the way to her flat in Kensington before driving to his executive apartment in the Docklands. Once there, Giles could contain himself no longer - he stripped naked, did a couple of lines of coke and vigorously masturbated to the thought of becoming a mature woman. On Wednesday night Giles went to see Madame Mae. Madame Mae was dressed in what she called her schoolmistress outfit - stiletto high heels, seamed stockings, tight black pencil skirt, tight blouse, full makeup, hair up in a bun. Giles had come prepared - he'd bought Madame a lovely bouquet of flowers to go with the usual payment for the session. Despite her professional demeanour, Maggie blushed on seeing them. "A little something for Madame - I'm going away on business for four weeks and I thought I'd get you a present," said Giles. "Ooh, you shouldn't have, they're lovely, Giles. Come on in, get upstairs and get changed while I sort these out." Giles went upstairs to "Madame's chamber", as Maggie called it, stripped out of shoes, suit, shirt, tie and boxer shorts and put on the suspender belt, white stockings and frilly white knickers laid out for him. In no time Maggie entered the room. Giles was sitting patiently on the bed with a hard on. Madame Mae was back in control and seemed particularly displeased. "Don't just sit there with that thing poking out of your knickers, you little bitch. Get on all fours - now!" Giles did as asked. He got on all fours on the bed facing the mirror that hung over the bed. Maggie handcuffed Giles' wrists to the bed head. "Right, you've been a verrry bad girl, Jenny. You're in for it now! I'm going to show you what for and no mistake, girl!" As she said this, Maggie stripped off the pencil skirt revealing red panties with frilly black trim, crossed to the nightstand, picked up a black strap on dildo and strapped it on. She then moved behind Giles. "But mistress I've done nothing wrong!" pleaded Giles. "Oh yes, you have, you little tart, and you're going to pay," said Madame Mae as she rolled a condom on the dildo. She then lubed first the dildo then Giles' bumhole. Madame Mae guided the dildo up to the entrance to Giles' anus. Looking Giles in the eye in the mirror over the bed, she said: "Feel this hard cock as it slides up your tight cunt!" and pushed herself into Giles' arse. Giles whimpered. Madame Mae then proceeded to fuck Giles' rear end with increasingly frenzied strokes, all the time calling him a little tart and a sissy whore. Giles continued to whimper throughout. After a couple of minutes of this, Madame Mae sneered: "Say it, sissy bitch! Come on!" With that Giles let out a cry: "My name is Jenny and I'm a sissy bitch!" Abruptly, Madame Mae stopped fucking Giles' arse and pulled out of him. She rolled the condom off the dildo and dumped it in a nearby waste bin. She walked round to the bed head and, producing the keys from her bra, undid the handcuffs. "Now, Jenny, now you can wank yourself off for Madame, like a good girl - you know the drill" she said. Giles needed no further encouragement. He moved to a sitting position in front of Madame Mae who stood proudly before him, still wearing the dildo. Giles leaned his head forward and took the dildo in his mouth. He then sucked the dildo whilst wanking - with just a few strokes Giles came all over his tight six pack stomach. Madame pulled out of Giles' mouth, reached for a clean soft cloth and handed it to Giles. Giles quickly cleaned himself up and handed the cloth back to Madame who quickly dropped it in the waste bin. "There, how was that my darlin'?" said Madame, her demeanour already softening, "Enjoy that?" she said as she sat down at the nightstand, opened a packet of cigarettes and lit one. Giles couldn't be certain but it looked to him like Madame was a little flushed - was she aroused? No matter, here was his chance. "Ooh yes, Madame, very much thank you. But I think someone else enjoyed it a little too," said Giles. "Cheeky!" said Madame but this was more playful than scolding and as she said it she seemed to relax further undoing the bun and shaking out her hair, "What are you after, eh, you naughty boy?" "Well, I was just thinking if I don't see you for four weeks, I'd like something to remember our special sessions together, like a lock of your beautiful hair." Madame laughed: "You really are the last of the old fashioned romantics aren't you, luv? Ok then," and with that Madame opened the drawer of the nightstand took out a pair of scissors and a little jewellery bag, cut a lock of her hair then placed it in the bag. Placing the cigarette in an ashtray she crossed to where Giles was sitting. Madame held out the bag for Giles to take but just as he reached to take it she playfully snatched it away. "How about you do something for me, darlin', in return, hmm?" she said raising one of her beautifully arched eyebrows. Giles couldn't believe his luck. His deflated cock started to spring to attention. "Now that's what I'm talking about - how about giving your Auntie Maggie a go on that lovely big cock of yours," vamped Maggie. She moved in closer, dropping the bag with the lock of hair onto the bed but well enough out of the way. Giles was now hard. Both of them were breathing heavily. Maggie stood over Giles and pushed him back so he was lying across the bed. She reached into her bra and brought out a condom. Quickly Maggie tore open the pack, deftly reached down, grabbed Giles' erect cock and rolled the condom onto it. Maggie then straddled Giles and sank onto his erect cock pushing it into her wet vagina. She then rode Giles. She said nothing but the look of triumphant arousal on her pink cheeks said it all. As the pair rose to climax Giles pumped. They both came together. Maggie climbed off Giles, removed the condom from his cock as deftly as she had put it on and dumped it in the waste bin. On Friday night, Portia came over to Giles' apartment. The two then drove up to the BioLife laboratory. There they met Dr Underwood who ushered Portia and Giles into one of the labs which was already prepared for the transformation. Giles handed over the lock of Maggie's hair, now sealed in a ziplock bag, and stripped naked before Dr Underwood gave him an enema. Dr Underwood, with Portia assisting, then inserted a similar tube to the enema tube into Giles' anus, put a catheter into his penis, attached what looked like electrodes to his testicles, put a canula into his left wrist for an intravenous drip and attached a heart monitor to Giles' chest. Giles then picked up what looked a little like a gimp mask with a tube fitted to the mouth area like a gas mask. Unzipping the back of this mask revealed a rubber protrusion a little like a small penis where the mouth would go. Quickly Giles put the mask on, making sure the protrusion entered his mouth. Dr Underwood zipped the back of the mask up. Next Giles stepped backward into the Re-Gen pod. Dr Underwood connected the anal tube, the catheter, the electrodes, the intravenous drip, the heart monitor and the tube on the outside of the Re-Gen mask to their respective connections. He then sealed the pod and started the process. Giles' could hear the equipment start up. His last memory was feeling the mask protrusion swell inside his mouth, filling it like a growing erect penis - this and the drip would feed Giles with the drugs to ensure his immune system would surrender to the changes, plus Maggie's genetic material, plus growth hormones, anti-androgen, oestrogen, a sedative and a baby food like feed. The electrodes attached to his testicles would dampen down Giles' testosterone. The anal tube and the catheter would of course take away the waste products, much of it including replaced genetic material. The next thing Giles knew was the pod had been opened and he was rousing from the dreamlike state he had been in. Dr Underwood was disconnecting the various tubes and electrodes. Giles felt....light - light headed even light bodied. But with the Re-Gen mask still on his vision was impaired. He could feel Portia's hand take his to help him step out of the Re-Gen pod. Portia's hand felt bigger than he remembered - correction: his hand felt smaller. Once out of the pod he could feel the Re-Gen mask being unzipped and it was taken off his head. Giles was standing before a full-length mirror. He let out a gasp. Before him stood a sort of teenage version of himself. He had shrunk in stature in all ways. He was shorter with no muscle to speak of, his six pack had become a small pot belly, he seemed to have the beginning of breasts. His penis and balls seemed half their size. His face was still recognisably Giles' but was that of a pretty, almost androgynous Giles - his strong jawline had softened and he had no facial hair. In fact, below his eyebrows Giles had no body hair whatsoever. His complexion was no longer olive but was now a very pale white and his hair was now a sandy colour. Without thinking, Giles made to cover his budding breasts with one hand and his cock and balls with another. "Oh God, I look like a poof!" he blurted, and almost as quickly stopped as both hands shot to his mouth. There had been no mistaking, Giles' voice had changed. He sounded like... "My God, Giles, you sound like my mother!" exclaimed Portia. At this Giles regained his composure and wheeled, in a rather feminine way, on his toes to face Portia. "Never mind the gawping, just get me some clothes, Portia!" said Giles in a voice that was unmistakably that of a middle aged woman. "Calm down, dear," sniggered Portia, "Here, are your jeans and t-shirt from before - the pants and socks are too big for you now so you'll have to go commando - just make sure you tighten the belt. Oh, and don't forget the shoes, dearie." With that Portia handed over the jeans and t-shirt that Giles had arrived at BioLife in the week before. Plus a pair of Portia's black stiletto heeled court shoes - in preparation they had established that Maggie and Portia were both size 5 - Giles had long been checking out Maggie's clothes and shoe sizes during his appointments when she left him to get changed, seeing it as part of the fun to know her 'dimensions', as it were. Giles dressed and then, with some difficulty in high heels although his already feminine movements were enhanced by the steps he managed to take, Portia helped Giles out to his car before she drove the pair of them back down to London to her flat in Kensington where Giles would be staying. Obviously in Portia's spare room. On the Saturday, Portia had already dressed when she woke Giles up. Apart from looking a little bleary eyed and comical in Giles' now outsized pyjamas, he appeared much the same slightly cherubic figure he had the evening before. Once again, it was his voice that most betrayed what was happening. "Wh-where am I?" enquired Giles in the tones of a mature woman, "God, how am I ever going to get used to this voice?" "You're in my flat, as we agreed, Giles," said Portia somewhat peevishly, "and if this is going to work at all, that voice is the least of the things you're going to have to get used to. "Right, I'm off to buy you - or should I say, Maggie - some work clothes with the cash you gave me. When you can be bothered to get up, there's breakfast things where you remember them, then you'd better start reading through the word processing manuals I've left you. See you later, Maggie," the last word said with a sardonic smile before Portia turned and left. Giles sat up and pondered the situation. He had kept quiet on the journey to Portia's flat the night before and Portia for her part seemed to prefer it that way. The two had simply said good night to each other before going to bed. This was fine with Giles, it meant he didn't have to reveal what was plainly obvious to him and not to Portia and Dr Underwood: despite the belief prior to the change that all that would change would be Giles' outward appearance, things had changed on the inside. Giles knew this because the dream-like state he had been in in the Re-Gen pod had been hugely erotic. Only, it had started out straight male but by the end of it, Giles' was fantasising solely about men. Moreover, if Portia had had reservations about Giles staying in her flat, she needn't have worried - Giles was no longer in the slightest bit attracted to her, not even as he had been towards her as an old flame. Dr Underwood, on the other hand, had stirred something within Giles. The other problem was that Giles was acutely aware that he was no longer as bright as he had been. Giles had all his old memories but the thing was when he tried to recall anything intellectual, such as his degree or the technical aspects of his business, he struggled to make sense of them. Anyway, Giles put this down solely to the disorientating effects of the change and got up, suppressing in so doing the urge to masturbate about the dream he had had about sucking Ralph's cock. After showering, Giles dressed in a track suit Portia had brought over but put on the black stiletto heels again - aside from the fact that they were lovely shoes (Giles noticed he found them sexy in a new way), Giles knew he needed as much practice as possible in them - and fixed himself a full English breakfast. He then settled down to the word processing and basic textbooks Portia had left him. Giles found these pretty heavy going and after half an hour of persevering with them, gave up and turned on the television. At first, Giles tried watching the football programmes that he usually loved. However, it wasn't long before he had to switch over - Giles' interest was not in the detail of the matches or team strategy but simply in the hunky footballers. The more agitated he got trying to follow things, the more aroused he became at the thought of what he'd like one of them to do with him. Eventually whilst channel surfing out of desperation, Giles found the daytime soaps. The effect was calming and just a little addictive. Whilst Giles still uncomfortably found many of the men in the soaps attractive, it was the female characters who appealed to him most, with whom he felt an affinity as if they were friends of his. When Portia returned home later that day, she found Giles curled up on her sofa eating ice cream and watching the television. "So this is what you've been up to all day is it? Have you even tried looking at those textbooks I left you?" "I tried, Portia," said Giles with the nasal whine of a tired middle aged woman, "but I'm just soo tired after yesterday, y'know?" "More like you're tired from doing bugger all all day. Anyway, come and look what I've got for you. It's classic." Strangely, at this Giles seemed to liven up, jumping to his feet to see what Portia had bought. This amused Portia no end. She had deliberately gone out and bought for Giles a pair of big girl jeans with an elasticated waist, the dullest skirt suit, 3 below the knee skirts, a pack of boring long sleeve tops, a pair of fussy lacy blouses, a pack of granny knickers, several huge but unsexy bras and a bumper pack of non- descript tights. Whilst it had been agreed that Portia would lend Giles high heels, Portia had done this to ensure maximum discomfort for Giles. In a way, the same could be said for her choice of clothes - guaranteed to make any woman look ten years older. "Bloody hell, Portia, what are these?" demanded Giles. With that, Portia took one step towards Giles, grabbed him by the wrists, shook him and hissed in his face: "They're your clothes, dearest Giles, and yours alone. I ought to make you try them on but they're too big for you - for now!" Without Portia's heels, Giles was now no taller than Portia in her fashionable flats. More importantly, he had neither the strength nor, strangely, the will to fight back. Just as suddenly, Portia lightened up "Oh, come on, Giles, not like you to be lost for words. Go and open some wine, pour us a couple of glasses then we'd better start on your beauty therapy." Without a word, Giles went off to the kitchen to open some wine, he was too ashamed to say anything. He also wanted to get out of Portia's way before the overwhelming desire to cry got the better of him. For the next few hours, Portia made Giles up, talking him through exactly what she was doing, then she got Giles to remove the makeup and he'd re- apply it. Once finally made up, Portia had Giles stroll up and down and around the apartment in his heels, including whilst balancing a book on his head. She ended it all by putting on some music and teaching Giles some dance steps - naturally, girls' dance steps. Portia had to admit that she was enjoying herself - the wine helped - and Giles made a very attentive and fun student. He also looked very pretty. Portia rewarded Giles by letting him wear some of her lingerie before getting ready and going out with friends. Giles spent the rest of the evening dressed like a minx, eating a pizza and getting quietly drunk watching Sex and the City. The next day was more of the same: Portia woke Giles up once she had got ready herself, Giles dressed, showered and cooked them both breakfast then Giles had a go at reading the secretarial texts again before giving up and watching East Enders. The rest of the day consisted of more beauty lessons, lessons in how to dress as a woman, women's hairstyles, and fashion, then more deportment lessons before dinner, a film (Bridget Jones' Diary) and bed. TO BE CONTINUED Copyright 2012 Kelly Newman