Death Comes To Hamberley free porn video

Death comes to Hamberley By Belle Gordon Prologue The police were called to Hamberley Manor at 0807 on a Monday morning. The call had been made by Ms Rosemary Kilburn, the maid. When she had entered her employer's bedroom to awaken her with her customary morning tea she was surprised to see the bed empty. Leaving the tea tray she went about her duties thinking her Mistress, Lady Mildred Reiner had risen early and gone for a walk as she sometimes did. Looking in the open door of the drawing room she was surprised to see that the lights were still burning. Stepping inside she saw a tableau of bodies that at first she was unable to make sense of. Slumped on the floor and holding a gun in his hand lay the body of Lord Percy Pinner. A trickle of drying blood ran from the neat hole in his temple down onto his cheek. On the couch lying face down was Lady Mildred wearing a beautiful pink lacy negligee that had been splattered with blood from the gunshot wound to the back of her head. Underneath Mildred lay the body of Damien Drew dressed in a white satin nightgown and equally dead. Blood had run from Mildred's head wound and soaked the pillow. As the awful truth dawned on Rosie she screamed and ran from the room. When Police Constable Kevin Sudbury entered the room his first thought was a murder/suicide. A man lay on the floor and a woman lay on the bed, both apparently dead. He was unaware of the third body as it was obscured by the woman. As he had been trained he phoned his superior and reported what he had found and requested assistance. He then sealed the room and stationed himself outside the door. Detective Inspector Peter Morden, the senior policeman on duty ordered a full forensic team to the Manor and also alerted the County Coroner's Office. The forensic team dusted for fingerprints, took photographs and carefully examined the room. To Inspector Morden it also looked like a straight forward murder/suicide but he left the bodies undisturbed until they could be examined by the pathologist. The Coroner, a grizzled Scot named James Camden arrived as Inspector Morden was leaving. "Sorry I can't stop, Jock" he called as he started his car, "I've another urgent call. Let me have your report as soon as possible." Dr Camden confirmed that the bodies were indeed dead then ordered his assistants to remove the corpses to the hospital mortuary where he would carry out a thorough examination. Later in the day Inspector Morden phoned the county morgue and spoke to his old friend Dr. Camden. "Well Jock, what can you tell me?" he asked. "It looks like a crime of passion, Laddie, but with a twist. Do you know who they were?" "Yes, we've questioned the maid and she's identified them." "Well, first of all the weapon used was a .22 Beretta. The type used for target shooting, not a particularly heavy calibre gun but at close range it's lethal. The bullets were still lodged in their brains, I have them here. I expect you will want them as evidence. There were no exit wounds and consequently a relative clean killing, not much blood ya see. It would seem that the man entered the bedroom and discover his wife in flagrante delicto as it were. He shot the two of them in the head at close range then turned the gun on himself." "Yes, that's what I thought. But you said there was a twist." "Ah yes, Peter. You see, the wife was not a woman at all but a man dressed in lingerie. It looks as though he'd had extensive facial surgery to feminise his features and he'd also had silicone breasts implanted. At the time of death he was in the act of buggering another man also in lingerie. The younger man, a teenager, I'd say about fifteen or sixteen had many characteristics of a girl. At some point in his life he'd been partially castrated which resulted in his feminine appearance and breast growth. It looks like they were shot at the precise moment of orgasm as the older man's penis was still fully inserted into the younger one's anus and there was seminal fluid still leaking from it. " "Good God! You're telling me that they were all males." "I am indeed, my dear Inspector." "Well thank you. Let me have your report as soon as possible please. This case is obviously not as straight forward as it first appeared." One Lord Percy Pinner, Earl of Abbotslench was a lonely man. Unmarried and living alone in the vast Hamberley Manor, seeing no one but the woman who came each day to cook his meals and do his laundry. Unfortunately he was an ugly man; squat, balding, with an unnaturally high piping voice and a minor curvature of the spine which made him slightly hunchbacked. He had never had a girl friend nor had any romantic attachments. He was still a virgin. The one time he had paid for a hooker had been a disaster. He had been unable to get a full erection and had failed to penetrate. Since then his only release was through masturbation whilst watching porn. His penchant was for she-males and transvestites, and then he never failed to become stimulated. Although an admirer of transvestites and cross-dressers, he had no desire to dress himself. With his looks and shape he knew he'd look ridiculous wearing women's clothes, even could he find anything to fit his misshapen body. So he spent many hours searching internet sites for pictures and videos. It was during one such surfing session that he came across The Way Out Club's web site and was immediately excited. He hadn't known that such places existed. He resolved to visit the next time he was in London. An occasion soon presented itself. He received a call from his lawyer asking him to visit. There were certain legal matters that needed to be discussed and also, the lawyer informed him, an approach had been made regarding the tracing of relatives. He replied that he would be there the following Friday. He told Mrs Shoreditch that he would be away for the weekend, packed a small suit case and boarded the 0905 train from Hereford to London Paddington. With his business completed he spent the remainder of the day shopping. He'd previously ordered a new suit, shirt and tie from his tailor in Saville Row and he bought two pair of shoes from Kurt Geiger. Saturday he idled away visiting the Natural History Museum and the National Gallery. He ate a late dinner in his hotel, changed into his new clothes then hired a taxi to Seething Lane. He almost lost his nerve when he got to the club and returned to his hotel. He stood in the shadows across the road watching the punters going in. When a group of four rowdy men arrived he decided this was his moment and quickly crossed the street and walked in behind them pretending to be part of their party. Inside it was very crowded and quite dark. Coloured spotlights illuminated the ceilings and walls. He made his way to the bar and ordered a Diet Coke then on second thoughts asked for a shot of vodka to be put in it. As he sipped his drink his eyes became accustomed to the gloom and he began to make out faces. His attention was drawn to a tall, slim woman wearing an elegant evening gown. She was in conversation with another pretty girl and a distinguished gentleman whom he reckoned was a banker. Taking his courage in both hands he walked to the woman and tapped her lightly on her bare shoulder. She turned around and smiled at him. "Wwwould yyou care to dance," he stammered nervously. She looked at him for several seconds weighing him up, and then said "Yes, I'd be delighted. Thank you for asking." She had a deep husky voice that sent a shiver through Percy's loins. Percy was overjoyed. He'd never asked a woman to dance with him before and now that she had accepted he wasn't sure what to do next. But he needn't have worried as she immediately took charge. She walked him onto the tiny dance floor where they gyrated with the other dancers. After the set finished she led him back to the table where her friends were in deep conversation and sat him down. "Thank you," she said, "you dance very well. My name's Mildred Reiner and this is Penelope and her friend Rupert. Like the bear." "Please to meet you, my name is Percy Pinner." Every one shook hands. The other couple returned to their conversation and Mildred said, "I haven't seen you in here before. Is it your first time?" "Yes it is, I don't get to London very often. I nearly didn't come in I was scared to death." "You don't need to be afraid of us drag queens. We don't bite; only suck." She giggled at her joke. "Aaare yyou a man?" Percy asked in disbelief. "Honey, I doubt there are more than ten real women in here. You do know what sort of place this is?" "Yes. But you are so beautiful I find it hard to believe you are not a woman." "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me for a long while. Go and get us some more drinks, darling, mine's a Daiquiri and tonic." The evening passed in a blur. They drank, they talked and they danced and by the end of the night Percy was hopelessly in love. Before they parted he gave Mildred his business card with his address, phone number and email and she promised to contact him. Two Mildred Reiner's other persona was Manfred Bayswater and for some time he had been formulating a plan. As Manfred Bayswater he was a stock broker and commodities dealer at a major city bank. But he had not been wholly honest. For the past year and a half he had been illegally using his client's money and his knowledge of insider trading to amass a considerable personal fortune, which he'd carefully deposited in secret numbered accounts in banks in Liechtenstein, Grand Cayman, Switzerland and Iceland. He was not completely sure of the exact amount he'd accrued but he thought it was in the region of 10 million Euros. He had been very skilful in his dealings and he'd had his share of luck. On a few occasions he'd almost crashed and burned, but somehow he'd always come out ahead of the game; unlike the unfortunate Nick Leeson who had been unable to recover his losses and eventually brought Barings Bank down. Although he had meticulously covered his track and ensured his client's accounts were correct to the last penny, suspicion was beginning to fall on him. He had heard rumours through various sources that the financial regulator was showing a particular interest in him. He decided it was time to disappear. To do this he needed a new identity and somewhere away from London to live. This was where he thought Percy Pinner could be useful. He began corresponding with Percy by email. He said how much he had loved their evening together and wished they could meet up again. If dear Percy could not come to London perhaps he could come to Herefordshire and visit. In his reply Percy invited Mildred to Hamberley Manor and hoped she'd like to stay for the weekend. That would be wonderful, Mildred replied, she would drive up the next weekend. Please send directions. Hamberley Manor was exactly the sort of hideaway he was looking for. It was remote, secluded and large enough to disappear inside should unwanted visitors call. He'd packed several of his prettiest dresses, a nightgown, and his sexiest lingerie in a small valise. This would be a rare opportunity to spend the a few days en-femme. He pulled into a quite lay-by and changed in the car before he arrived. He already wore his frilly underwear, hose and a blouse under a raincoat so he only needed to swop his trousers for a skirt and his shoes for heels. Since he was a child he had cross dressed and since graduating from university he had accumulated an extensive wardrobe of womens clothing. He had become extremely skilled at dressing, applying make-up and was a proficient female impersonator. But as skilled as he was at masquerading as a woman he was still in the closet. Very few people knew of his predilection and he was terrified that if his secret became known and his colleagues and employers found out he would be ruined. Consequently he only ventured out when he felt it was safe to do so and where he knew his like minded friends would not expose him. He was extremely careful to keep both sides of his persona separate. However, he was a regular visitor to the Way Out club where he knew his identity would not be revealed. Through-out the weekend he flirted with Percy; flattering him and complimenting him on his lovely house and gardens. He listened attentively as Percy recounted the history of the place. How, on his restoration to the throne of England after the Interregnum, King Charles II had conferred on Percy's ancestor, Sir Edmund Pinner a hereditary Earldom. The King also rewarded Sir Edmund with a large tract of land containing woodland; several farms and the village of Mingleton on the Welsh border for his a loyal support during his exile in France. On Sunday evening after finishing a cold supper they sat together before an open fire. Mrs Shoreditch had gone home and they had the place to themselves. This was make or break time for Manfred. His future plans depended on how the next few hours would go. If Percy didn't respond in the way he hoped it would be back to the drawing board. "Thank you, Percy for a lovely weekend," Mildred purred. "I've so enjoyed it; I hope you will invite me again?" "Of course you will be always welcome. You can come at anytime, come next weekend." "That very kind of you but I'm afraid I shall be away for at least a month. But I shall contact you when I return. Pour me another glass of wine, Percy dear." Lord Percy took her glass and poured from the bottle on a side table. Carrying it back his foot caught in a threadbare carpet and he stumbled, spilling the wine down Mildred's dress. "You clumsy oaf," she screamed. "Look what you've done. You've ruined my dress." "I'm sssso sorry my dear. I'll pay for it naturally." "You'll pay for it alright" Mildred hissed in fury. "But not with money. I'm going to punish for your clumsiness. " Percy was shocked by her sudden change of character. The abrupt transformation from a pleasant and gentle woman to harsh and vicious harridan was unnerving. He was at a loss as to what she meant by punish. "First of all you will apologise. Then I shall give you ten strokes of the cane." Percy was at first bewildered then he became excited as he comprehended exactly what she intended to do. "I noticed a riding crop in the hallway that will do nicely. Go and get it. And be quick about it." He was slightly out of breath and flushed when he returned with the whip. Mildred now knew that she had succeeded with her gamble. If he was going to demure he would not have hurried to do her bidding, he would have told her to go to hell. He stood before her, eyes downcast. "Now to apologize sincerely you must be on your knees." He immediately obeyed, dropping to his knees before her. His breathing was coming in quick shallow gasps and his hands were trembling as he held the riding crop in both hands offering it to her. "Please Mistress," Percy began. "Accept my apologies for my clumsiness and punish me for ruining your beautiful dress." Mildred had not expected him to react quite so submissively. She thought it would be some time before he became completely compliant. She had suspected from his behaviour that he was naturally docile and passive but thought it would take several visits before he was totally subservient. Obviously his latent masochism was barely suppressed and only needed the slightest push to trigger it. It was better than she had hoped. "Very well, I accept your apologies," she said, taking the crop from him. "Now lower your trousers and bend over the arm of that chaise." He did as she ordered; stumbling when his pants tangled his ankles as he shuffled to the chaise-lounge. She was gratified to see the beginnings of an erection. Once in position she administered ten stinging cuts imprinting equally spaced red stripes, five to a side onto the cheeks of his pale buttocks. She wondered if she'd laid it on too heavily for he did not move and she thought he might have passed out. He remained bent over, only his thigh muscles quivering, but slowly he stood pulling his trousers up and fastening them. "Thank you Mistress," Percy murmured moving his arm across his eyes to wipe away a tear. As he moved away from the couch Mildred was amazed to see a dribble of white liquid running down the leather arm and dripping onto the carpet. Three The next morning Manfred Bayswater flew to Belgium where he booked himself into a little known private hospital. One of the specialities undertaken at the clinic was facial feminisation surgery and Dr Van den Borg was one of the leaders in the field. This was the next stage in changing his identity. It was a radical step he knew but he had thought long and hard and decided that living as a woman was no bad thing and it beat spending years in a prison cell. Manfred was fortunate in that his features were quite feminine to begin with, but never-the-less went ahead with a brow scrape, rhinoplasty to narrow and reshape his nose, cheek augmentation, a lip lift, chin recontouring and a reduction of his Adams apple. Whilst undergoing the facial surgery he'd also decided to have silicone breast implants inserted which gave him a pert 36B bust. For several days after the operation he felt as though his face had been in a blender, but he was strong and healthy and he healed quickly. In less than two weeks the bandages were removed and both Dr. Van den Borg and Manfred were delighted with the results. His facial features were now those of an attractive, mature woman. With make-up and a feminine hairdo it would not be possible to tell he wasn't an authentic woman. The bruising and swelling faded rapidly and six weeks later he took the ferry from Zeebrugge to Hull. During his time in hospital he had maintained email contact with Percy. His tone and attitude and gradually become more domineering. With each message he increased the tenor of his words until he had assumed the role of undisputed master. He announced that as soon as he returned he would be moving into Hamberley Manor and he expected Percy to make all the necessary preparations, which included making the master bedroom available for his exclusive use. Percy would have to use one of the other rooms. Percy docilely accepted this news and replied immediately saying that he would arrange whatever Mildred wanted; nothing would be too much trouble. During the ferry crossing his worst fears were founded. A BBC news report stated that Police were anxious to interview a Mr Manfred Bayswater in connection with certain financial irregularities that had taken place at a city of London bank. They had an old grainy passport photograph of him which bore little resemblance to his current appearance. He wasn't worried that he would be recognized but never-the- less wore a slouch hat and dark glasses. He was thankful that he'd moved his plans forward. From Hull he took a train to Liverpool Street station then a taxi, alighting two blocks before his apartment. He walked casually along the opposite side of the street checking to see if anyone was waiting around the entrance to his building, then returned on his side. He saw no-one who might be a watcher. Unlike TV cop shows and detective novels the police rarely have the resources to stake out apartments or houses, so he was not surprised that he saw nothing out of the ordinary. And anyway they only wanted him for questioning; no warrant had been issued for his arrest. Inside his apartment he carefully checked for signs of entry and found none. He unpacked his male clothing from his valise and hung them in his closet, and then packed two large suitcases with all his women's clothing, shoes and make-up. He stripped off his male clothes for the last time, and dressed in a plain pleated skirt and white silk blouse, a cashmere cardigan, tights and black Oxfords. He applied a modest amount of makeup and checked his hair, which he'd grown out during his absence. He'd visited the clinic's beauty salon and had it styled into his favourite bob the day before he left. Finally he loaded up his handbag with the items essential to every woman. From his hidden safe he extracted a large manila package which contained his emergency survival pack; five thousand pounds and a thousand Euros in used notes, a passport in the name of Mildred Reiner, a birth certificate in the same name and a current driver's licence, documents that had cost a small fortune to acquire. Also in the packet were details of his trading and bank accounts; evidence of his illegal dealings which he certainly did not want discovered. Carefully locking his apartment he took the elevator with his baggage to the basement garage where his car was parked, loaded everything into the boot and drove out into the sunshine heading for Hamberley Manor and a new life. Four Gossip quickly spread around the village and local area that Lord Percy had secretly married and that his bride was now living in the Manor house. Although of course no such thing could or had happened, it was given credence by Mrs Shoreditch who confirmed the arrival of Lady Mildred and vouchsafed that she was a lovely, kind and gentle woman. It was quickly recognized that Mildred was the Mistress of the house and Lord Percy a lowly underling. She established herself in the master bedroom and banished Percy a pokey little room at the top of the house. He was expected to be available whenever she needed him or have a very good reason if he was not. He was regularly chastised for any minor offence and accepted it eagerly and without complaint. Although ostensibly married the union was never consummated. Mildred had no intention of indulging in any sort of sexual activity with him, so Percy continued to masturbate whilst watching internet porn. Mildred discovered his vice by accident when she went to his room after he had failed to respond to her summons. She was furious and flew into a rage beating him with her fists knocking him to the ground and kicking him. She picked up his laptop and threw it through the window of his room where is smashed on the cobbles three stories below. "For this outrageous exhibition you are going to get a severe thrashing," she screamed. "Take off your clothes then come to my room." She stormed out slamming the door behind her. Percy was appalled to have been discovered. He had thought she was sleeping and had not heard her approach. But he dared not disobey so he quickly striped himself naked and padded barefoot to her room. A few minutes later, with trembling hands he tapped lightly on her door. "Come!" He entered and stood before her shivering with cold and fear. His hands covered his genitals but to his utter shame he was still hard, both from his unfinished wank and the excitement of his humiliation. "Assume the position," she commanded. Percy docilely bent over the arm of the couch presenting his pasty white buttocks. "So, Percy," she said, "I shall let you decide how many strokes you feel you deserve. If your total agrees with the number I have in mind I shall let you off, but if it disagrees then you shall receive double the number you asked for. And then you must apologise for your baseness and beg me to flog you." Mildred waited slapping the riding crop against the palm of her hand while Percy considered how much pain he thought he could bare, and tried to decide how many cuts she would give him. After many minutes, during which time Mildred wondered if he'd fainted, he groaned. "Mistress I beg your forgiveness and please beat me for my despicable act. Please give me twenty strokes of the cane," he whispered. "Aha. That's not the number I was thinking of," she said with a note of triumph. "So now you will have to receive forty strokes. How does that sound?" Percy gasped. "Oh no, Mistress. Please spare me. I promise not to do it again and to be good and obedient." "You definitely won't be doing it again because I have something that will stop you playing with your pathetic little prick. Come here and stand still." He stood before her with his hands crossed over his cock and balls. Mildred strode to a side table and returned with a stainless steel contraption which she handed to him. "Do you know what this is?" she asked. He turned it over and examined it closely. "No Mistress." "It's a male chastity device. It will not allow you to get an erection or jerk off until it is removed. And I shall decide when that will be. Now put it on." Percy studied the device then pushed his now flaccid penis into a curved plastic cylinder and closed the rings that encircled his scrotum and the base of his cock. A hasp clipped to the underside of the tube and forced the cylinder down between his thighs. Mildred next handed him a small padlock which he fastened into an eye thus securing the whole thing and ensuring it could not be removed without the key which she kept on a gold chain around her neck. "You will of course have to pee sitting down, but I'm sure you won't mind that. Now go to bed. I shall defer your punishment for the time being but think about the forty lashes that you're owed." Five About a month after Mildred had taken up residence as the Lady of the Manor she announced that she needed a personal maid to look after her dresses and assist with her makeup etc. She ordered Percy to find someone suitable. Rosie Kilburn, a young Irish girl was subsequently employed. She had been living in a hostel for wayward girls of which Lord Percy was a patron. She had fallen pregnant and had left Ireland to obtain an abortion and had then been afraid to return. She had just turned eighteen and was therefore obliged to leave the hostel and to fend for herself so Percy suggested to Mildred that she would be suitable. She was clean and honest and Mildred liked her immediately, so she was recruited to the post. One morning Lord Percy knocked timidly on Mildred's bedroom door. Rosie answered and inquired what he wanted. He replied that he wished to speak to the Mistress on matter of some importance. Very well she would ask if Madam would see him, and did he not know that Madam did not like to be disturbed before midday? She told him to wait and closed the door in his face. Thirty minutes later he was ushered into Mildred's presence. "What do you want?" she asked without preamble. "Mistress, I've had a phone call from my lawyer in London." Mildred felt a moment of apprehension; mention of lawyers reminded her of her nefarious past. "It appears that a distant cousin of mine has been killed along with his wife." She sighed with relief. "So, what of it?" she snapped. "Well there is a son who is now an orphan and it seems that as I am his only living relative the boy has to come and live here." "That is preposterous, I can't be expected to take in waifs and strays just because your lawyer says so. Who is this child? What do you know about him?" "Well nothing really. But as he has no other kin that makes him my heir." Mildred thought for a moment then said, "Very well, go and find out what you can about him and I shall decide what's to be done." "Yes Mistress" Percy said and turned to leave. "I think you have forgotten something," she called after him. "Sorry Mistress," he said, and then made a motion that was half way between a bow and a curtsey. Six Damien Drew stepped from the train and looked around. He saw a small dapper man wearing a shapeless blue serge suit and a bowler hat. He was holding up a piece of cardboard with his name written on it. The boy approached the man and said, "I'm Damien." "Come with me." The journey from the train station to Hamberley Manor took almost an hour. They travelled in silence in a rattlerly old nineteen fifties Morris 8, Damien sitting beside the driver who spoke not a word. Approaching the house following a winding, pot-holed drive the boy felt suddenly nervous and apprehensive. He had never met his Uncle Percy and had only become aware of his existence in the last few weeks. The little gentleman drove the car around the curving drive to the rear of the house and parked next to a very new Mercedes saloon. "Get your bag and follow me." He had a strange piping voice with a lisp that sounded like a young girl. The boy did as he said gathering his pitifully few belongings stuffed into a small rucksack and the large envelope containing his medical history, birth certificate, passport and various reports from different agencies, and followed him into the house. They passed through a low door into a large stone flagged room. "Wait here," he squeaked, and disappeared. Damien dropped his bag and looked around. He sat on an old oak settle and waited. The house was terribly old and smelt musty and airless. It had been originally built (he subsequently learnt) in the seventeenth century and had been extended and added to over the years, till now it was a vast sprawling pile with endless passage ways and countless rooms. In its heyday it would have supported a staff of at least a dozen as well as gardeners and coachmen. Now, though, there was only Rosie Kilburn, the maid and Gladys Shoreditch the cook. "Follow me." The boy followed and was soon disorientated winding along gloomy corridors and through many rooms. They climbed a flight of curving stairs somewhere at the back of the house and emerged onto a bright carpeted landing. The small chap quietly knocked at a door and waited till be heard that he should enter. He opened the door and stood aside indicating that Damien should go in. The room was in semi darkness, the only illumination coming from an open fire burning in a huge fireplace and a single lamp on a side table. Heavy drapes partially covered the mullioned windows. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he discerned a person sitting in a wing chair besides the fire. "So, you have finally arrived. Come here boy and let me look at you." The soft voice had the phlegmy quality of a lifetime smoker and was deeper than the little fellows. Damien walked toward the seated figure and felt his hands tremble. "Hello," he said, "are you my Aunt Mildred?" "I am. But you will henceforth address me as Madam or Maam." She paused, looking him up and down. "Now I must tell you candidly that you are not welcome here, but as Percy is your only living relative I am obliged to take you in. You are fifteen? Is that correct?" "No maam. I was sixteen last week." "I find that hard to believe, you look no more than thirteen or fourteen. Anyway, until you are eighteen, when you will be free to leave, you will live here and follow the rules. Which are very simple; do as you are told. Failure to obey me will result in punishment in whatever way I deem appropriate. Understand?" "Yes maam." "If, on the other hand, you are a good boy and you do as I say your stay here shouldn't be too unpleasant. I can be kind and generous to those who please me. Now stand here and let me get a proper look at you." She rose from her chair and for the first time he saw her properly. The first thing he noticed was her height. She was over six feet and very slim. Her classical features were framed by thick black hair cut in a bob and parted down the centre of her head. She wore a severe iron grey two-piece suit over a white silk blouse that was fastened at her throat with a large cameo brooch. The jacket was tailored to emphasize her tiny waist and wide shoulders. The narrow waist accentuated her prominent bosom, and the pencil skirt hugged her slim hips finishing at mid thigh. Her long, long legs were encased in charcoal hose that sparkled and shone in the firelight. On her feet she wore ankle length lace up boots with a five inch heel which accounted for her extreme height. The boy gaped at her appearance and his heart accelerated with excitement. He could feel a stirring in his loins as he gazed at this incredibly beautiful woman. She slowly walked around him as he stood transfixed. He could smell the lovely aroma of her perfume. "Well, you're not much of a specimen I must say, but I suppose you'll grow," she said. "The first thing to do is to get you cleaned up and into some decent clothes and get rid of those stinking rags. Go with Percy, he'll show you to your room and see to your bath and provide you with something nicer to wear. Then come back here and I'll inspect you. If I like what I see you can have some supper. Ring that bell in the corner." He did as she ordered. His Uncle Percy was none other than the little man who'd met him at the station and driven him here. The boy was surprised to see he was now wearing a wrap around frilled apron and his bowler hat had had been replaced by a mob cap. "Show ...er... What's your name? I refuse to call you Damien; I won't have the devils name spoken in my house. We must call you something else." Before he could respond she said. "I know, as your surname is Drew we shall call you Nancy after that fictional character. Percy, show Nancy to the pink room, bathe him, dress him and then burn everything he's wearing and whatever else he has in that awful bag. And burn that as well." "Yes mistress," he piped and Damien almost thought he bobbed a curtsey. She sat again and picked up the magazine she'd put aside when he'd entered. The boy followed Uncle Percy to the end of a long corridor and entered the room that was to be his home for the foreseeable future. That it was named the pink room was immediately obvious. The wall coverings were pink velvet; the curtains were heavy pink brocade; the bed sheets were pink satin covered with a pink embroidered counterpane. Only the antique furniture, which was mostly oak, gave any relief. "Undress and put your things in here," Percy said handing him a large black plastic bag. "The bathroom is through there." He slowly stripped off his clothing and put them into the bag aware that Percy was watching him. He was not the finest example of manhood and he became very self-conscious of his scrawny body, his spindly legs and arms and his almost hairless skin. He had no muscle definition and was soft and flabby. At only 5 feet 3 inches with small hands and feet most girls his age were bigger than he was. His only redeeming feature was his face with its delicate features, up turned nose and full lips. His eyes were cornflower blue and his hair was naturally blond, that is, it would have been had not the authorities in his last place of residence decided that all boys heads be shaved, so all he had was a short stubble. Naked he followed Uncle Percy into the bathroom, which was also pink. A huge bathtub was full of hot steaming water. A powerful smell of bath salts filled the room with the scent of jasmine. The boy gingerly lowered himself into the water which was just bearable and submerged till only his nose and face was above the water. The luxury of lying in a hot bath after the cold showers he'd become accustomed to was indescribable. He could happily have gone to sleep wallowing in the warm watery embrace, but Percy ordered him to stand. With a soft wash cloth and perfumed soap he proceeded to wash him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet and every crease and plain in between. He seemed to pay more that was appropriate attention to his genitals and bottom. He spent several minutes washing the crack of his arse and probing his anus and gently squeezing his penis and his mutilated scrotum. The boy was embarrassed to feel himself becoming erect and pushed Percy's hands away. "We'll have to get rid of this," Percy said pulling at his sparse pubic hair, "Madam doesn't allow any body hair." He produced a soap bowl, brush and razor and proceeded to shave his meagre bush. "Arms up." His pits were similarly denuded. Reluctantly the boy climbed out of the tub and Percy wrapped him in a large pink towel. He dried himself while Percy let the water out and cleaned the tub in a quick efficient manner. It was wonderful to feel so clean, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so scrubbed, his skin tingled and he smelt gorgeous. Back in the bedroom he stood in front of the open fire and dropped the towel. Percy opened a drawer in a chest and produced a pair of silk pyjamas. The pants were calf-length pantaloons. They were pink with tiny roses printed on them and a lace frill around the ends of the legs. The top was a shorty jacket that matched the pants and the three quarter length sleeves were also lace trimmed as was the waist. When he had them on Percy handed him a pair of slippers that were pink and fluffy with a wedge heel higher than anything he'd worn before. "Do you like your pj's?" Uncle Percy asked. "Mistress selected them personally." "Oh ye,s" the boy replied. "They're lovely; I've never worn anything so nice. But they're girl's night clothes, aren't they?" "Yes they are. I can find you something plainer if you'd prefer, but Mistress wouldn't like it." "No, no there's no need! I love them." "Good. Now come along Mistress will be waiting". He followed Uncle Percy back along the corridors to Aunt Mildred's room tottering slightly on the unaccustomed heels. The swishy feeling of the silk against his freshly washed skin was amazing and he was disconcerted to feel himself becoming hard. He prayed it would go down and that Aunt Mildred wouldn't notice. She was sitting in the same position but had turned on more lights. He blinked, fluttering his long eyelashes as he entered. "Ah here you are at last Nancy. I was starting to think that Percy was taking advantage of you. Stand here before me and do a twirl so that I can see you properly." The boy turned slowly wobbling on his heels. He unconsciously turned his hands outwards from his wrists and tucked his elbows in to his sides. The humiliating effect of being scrutinized by this authoritative and attractive woman was making him harder than ever. He knew that his growing erection would be all too obvious but could do nothing about it. "Very nice," she said. "A big improvement over the dirty little wretch I saw an hour ago". She started at his tumescence that was now producing a sizable bulge in the front of his pantaloons and arched an imperious eyebrow. He felt himself blushing crimson with embarrassment but it only seemed to make his cock harder. He felt moisture dampening the silk at his crotch. He was thankful that because they were meant for a girl there was no fly through which his rock hard penis would have protruded. "I do not approve of boys who cannot control themselves. Getting an erection in my presence will get you ten strokes of the cane. But as this is your first day here and you are unfamiliar with my ways, I shall not on this occasion chastise you. But be warned, young man I will not tolerate brazen spectacles such as this." She waved an imperious hand in his direction. "Exhibitionism of this kind will be severely punished." Her admonishment and stern words had an unexpected and devastating effect on him. The promise of a canning from this incredible woman was too much for his self control and he spontaneously ejaculated, deluging the front of his pantaloons with a copious flood of semen. He almost collapsed at her feet. She said nothing as he shuddered and staggered as his climax overcame him, she simply sneered as though he was some form of unspeakable pond life. "I'm terribly sorry Maam; I don't know what happened to me," he stammered, blushing even more and wishing he could disappear. "For that display of sexual wantonness you shall go to bed without any supper. But first you will apologize to me. Get on your knees". She ordered. "Kiss my feet and beg for forgiveness". The boy did as she ordered his humiliation absolute. He kissed the toes of her boots tasting the leather. "Please forgive me Aunt Mildred, I'm very sorry for what I did and I won't do it again." The strangest thing was that he was getting hard again. The more she tormented and shamed him the more excited he was becoming. "Very well, apology accepted. Now Percy, take this horrible little pig to his room and find him something clean to wear. And make sure he washes out his soiled panties." Later that night as he lay cocooned in the first warm bed he'd slept in for a long while, he puzzled over why Aunt Mildred's degrading and humiliating manner should have had such an exciting effect. Seven The boy's sleep was again beset by nightmares. In his dreams he re-lived the terrible tragedy that had killed both his parents. After two years he was still traumatised from the experience of being buried in rubble for over 36 hours. The earthquake that destroyed most of the holiday island and killed his folks had left him with terrible memories and a fear of dark cramped spaces. Although the loss of his parents was tragic it was mercifully quick. The building in which they were staying, a poorly constructed 13 story beach-side hotel, collapsed like a pack of cards crushing his sleeping parents under hundreds of tonnes of concrete. He'd been extremely lucky to escape. He'd woken feeling thirsty and fetched a bottle of water from the mini-bar. He stepped out onto the balcony to drink it and this simple act saved his life. Now that he was not under the main tower of the building only the overhanging balconies fell on him. The bottle of water twice saved his life, firstly by getting up when he did he avoided the worst of the collapse, and secondly little sips of water kept him alive whilst he was buried. When the rescue services finally discovered him trapped in a void he was in a very bad way. A large slab of concrete lay across his upper left thigh fracturing his femur and a sharp corner of the same piece had crushed his testicles. Amazingly no other bones were broken and apart from cuts and bruises and de-hydration he was pretty much OK. He was carried to an emergency hospital where the bone was set and plastered, but the surgeon was unable to save his right gonad which was amputated along with 50 percent of his left. Later he would need a daily dose of testosterone to make up for what he was not producing naturally. Eventually he was repatriated to the UK where he spent many months undergoing physiotherapy and trauma counselling. During this time social services were trying to trace any living relatives he might have and who would be able to take care of him. As a minor, he was fourteen at the time of the quake; he couldn't be discharged into the outside world to fend for himself. If no relative could be found he would be made a ward of court and accommodated in either a foster home or possibly a young person's hostel. Eventually a second cousin of his father was traced. He remembered his dad telling his mother that he had a cousin somewhere but he'd never had any contact with him and wasn't even sure he was still alive. He knew his mother had been orphaned as a girl and had no relatives. The boy knew nothing about Uncle Percy other than that he was his only living relative. Lord Percy was eventually contacted and arrangements were made for the boy to stay with him and his wife Mildred; hence his arrival at Hamberley Manor. Eight He awoke with a cry fearing that he was again in an earthquake but slowly realized it was only someone shaking him by the shoulder. "It's alright Miss Nancy; it's time to wake up." "What?" he asked in confusion. "Who are you and my name's not Miss Nancy?" "I'm Rosie, Miss, the maid. Mistress Mildred told me that was your name and I was to wake you and prepare your bath and clothes for the day. So, up you get. Wakey-wakey rise and shine it's a lovely morning. I've brought you some toast and orange juice." She had an attractive Irish brogue. "Oh yes, I'd forgotten. Sorry to be so rude." Rosie was a beautiful young girl, not a lot older than Damien, and almost the same size. She had the pale complexion that's special to redheads, green eyes and long ginger hair tied back in a bun. Her face was prettily dotted with freckles. She wore a simple grey shift dress with a starched white apron and a lacy cap, black stockings and sensible black shoes. He sat up in bed reluctant to leave the luxury of satin sheets and the silk pyjamas. He thought with disappointment that he'd miss the softness and the silkiness when he dressed in normal clothes again. He regretfully slid from the bed and followed Rosie to the bathroom. He wondered where Uncle Percy was and why Rosie hadn't attended him last night. In the bathroom Rosie was stirring something into the water that was creating a huge amount of bubbles and smelt strongly of mimosa. "Let me help you off with your nightie then hop in and I'll scrub your back." "There's no need, I can manage," he protested, but to no effect. Rosie unbuttoned his top, slid it off his arms then grabbed his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. He stood before her naked as a jay bird, instinctively covering his hairless groin with his hands and blushing. She giggled when she saw his embarrassment and gave his bottom a playful slap. Once in the bath he relaxed, loving the hot soapy water and the feeling of weightlessness. "I'll give you a few minutes to soak while I make your bed and set out your clothes for today, then I'll wash you till you're squeaky clean." She was soon back; she picked up a large loofah and began gently washing his shoulders and chest. "Stand up," she said. He did, and she washed his legs and feet as he raised them in turn. "You have very pretty feet. I'll give you a pedicure later and maybe paint your toenails. Would you like that?" "Mmm." he said, trying to sound non-committal. But the idea of painting his toenails was strangely exciting. "And maybe I'll give you a manicure too if Mistress says I can." She handed him the loofah and told him to finish leaving him alone in the bath. Wrapping another large pink towel under his arms and holding it together in the centre of his chest, the boy returned to the bedroom. Rosie was bent over the bed arranging clothes. "Please drop the towel, Miss, I need to apply your moisturizer. We don't want you with rough or flaky skin do we?" "Why do you keep calling me Miss?" he asked dropping the towel. Rosie ignored his question and went to work massaging cream into his arms; torso and legs, then dusted him all over with talc. Pushing him gently till he sat on the vanity stool she smoothed cream onto his cheeks, chin and forehead working it up to his hairline and covering his entire face with Loriel rejuvenating gel. "I have a treat for you now, Miss Nancy. Mistress hates your cropped hair and says that you must wear this." She held up a blond wig. It was a short bob styled in the same fashion as Aunt Mildred's. Rosie expertly settled it over his head, then with a few quick strokes of a brush produced a perfectly natural looking head of hair. He looked at himself in the vanity mirror and was astounded. Reflected back was not the Damien Drew he knew but someone who appeared to be a young girl. "Do you like it?" Rosie asked. He was speechless and could only nod his head. How such a transformation could be made with just a simple wig was astonishing. "Good. I think you look lovely too. Now let's get you dressed, Mistress is expecting you at nine o'clock sharp. And she does not like to be kept waiting." First Rosie handed him what were plainly a pair of ladies panties. White silk generously adorned with Chantilly lace. He hesitated for only a moment before sliding them up his smooth legs. He decided not to make any protest as he was sure any objections would be ignored. It was better to go with the flow he decided, and anyway he secretly liked the idea of wearing women's underwear. After the panties she handed him a matching camisole top with delicate spaghetti straps and little rosebud details. He held his arms up and Rosie slipped it over his unaccustomed hair. He sneaked a look at himself in the mirror as he stood sideways. In profile he looked even more like a girl except for the lack of breasts and the bulge in his panties. A plain white cotton shirt was next. He thought it was a man's till he found the buttons were on the opposite side and when he looked closely he could see the darts tailored into the blouse to accommodate a bust. Rosie helped him with the unfamiliar buttoning then held open a pair of grey slacks of the softest cashmere wool for him to step into. She did up the side zip and button. "There are no pockets or a fly," he complained. "Of course not," she said. He pulled on a pair of black nylon pop-socks and slipped his feet into a pair of black leather penny loafers with a little silver buckle on the instep. A colourful Hermes silk scarf was loosely knotted round his neck and his ensemble was complete. "Oh! Miss Nancy. You look absolutely divine. I never would have thought you could look so marvellous. Mistress is going to love you. Now come, we must hurry." Rosie escorted him to the door of the room he'd visited the previous night and they waited. As a distant clock began to strike nine she diffidently knocked and they went in. Aunt Mildred was seated in the same wing chair reading The Times. She put it aside and smiled at the boy. "Ah Nancy, you look so much better than you did yesterday. Did you sleep well? Is Rosie looking after you?" Without waiting for a reply she said "Come and stand here and give me a twirl. My dear you are such a pretty boy, you make me quite envious. Do you like the clothes I chose for you?" "Yes, thank you, Aunt Mildred I mean Madam. They're lovely but they're women's clothes." "I'm afraid they are. Is that a problem? They're the only things we have that will fit you and anyway ladies clothes are so much nicer than men's. Male clothing is always so boring. Don't you agree?" "Yes I suppose I do, and these things are very nice. But I've never worn anything like this before. They make me feel quite strange but in a nice sexy way." He blushed when he said this and Mildred smiled knowingly. "Well it's up to you of course, which do you want to wear; women's or men's? You choose". He paused for only a moment before declaring his preference for feminine attire. "That's an excellent choice, Nancy. I think we will get along famously, I much prefer girls for company." "Now Rosie, take Nancy to Mrs Shoreditch and tell her to put Nancy to work in the kitchen." "Yes Mistress," Rosie said and curtseyed. As he turned to leave he felt a sting across his buttocks. He let out a cry and rubbed the place where he'd been stung. "That was to remind you that you have forgotten something," Mildred said waving a leather riding crop at him. He looked at her in puzzlement. "Tell him Rosie." "Whenever you enter and leave Mistress's presence you must curtsey to her. Like this." She demonstrated how to drop the perfect curtsey, holding the edges of her shirt and bending her knees with one foot behind the other. He tried several times before Aunt Mildred judged that he'd mastered the skill together with the necessary level of respect. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. As he followed Rosie along gloomy passages and down several flights of stairs he wondered how Aunt Mildred had become married to Uncle Percy. Nine After the boy had departed Mildred considered what was to be done with him. She had decided before he arrived that he might be a suitable subject for feminisation and once she saw him she was certain. Unquestionably he was the prettiest boy she'd ever seen and with the feminine clothes he'd easily be mistaken for a girl. He seemed to be a natural sissy who preferred women's clothing to mens. Would he also prefer the company of men to girls? What she did know for certain was that she desired him. Despite her imperious attitude she was deeply taken with him. Her cock had stirred in her silken panties when she'd inspected him and it had taken quite an effort not to show her feelings. She must somehow find a way to seduce the lovely boy. She rang for Rosie and when she arrived she asked her, "What do you think of our guest?" "Oh, he's so sweet, Milady, I could eat him up." "I hope you mean that hypothetically and not literally. If there's any eating to be done, I shall be doing it." "Of course, Milady." "Now Rosie, what I want you to do is to take him in hand and encourage him to become as feminine as possible. Compliment him on his looks and his dress; flatter him on his choice of clothes. Pamper him with special treats like manicures and painting his nails. Get his ears pierced and insist he wears earrings and jewellery. Teach him how to use make-up and above all persuade him to act like a girl; show him how to walk and talk and generally how to perform and behave like a young lady. I think he naturally inclines towards womanliness and with a little encouragement I'm convinced he'll turn out to be a perfect young girly-boy. Do you think you can handle him?" "Yes I do, Milady. He had no reluctance in wearing panties and a camisole when I dressed him this morning. In fact I think he prefers them." "That's good. Buy whatever you need and charge it to my credit cards. I want him to enjoy living here. He'll be much better company than Percy. Now prepare my bath, I feel like a nice long soak." As she lay in the perfumed water, her nipples just breaking the surface her hand found her burgeoning manhood and began to caress it. She closed her eyes and thought of the boy/girl Nancy. Ten Eight months later Mildred learned from the same source that had warned Manfred of the investigation into his financial wrongdoings that the enquiry was being downgraded from active to dormant, and also that the DPP (Director of Public Prosecutions) had decided that there was insufficient evidence to bring a case against him. Further proceedings would be left to the Financial Regulator's office. This came as a great relief to Mildred who was beginning to get cabin fever from her voluntary incarceration. Lord Percy continued in his role as dogsbody. He was at the beck and call of all; Mildred treated him with utter distain, Rosie as a lower rank and Nancy mostly ignored him. Only Mrs Shoreditch treated him with a modicum of respect. Once a month Mildred would release him from his chastity restraint and allow him to seek relief at his own hand before locking him up again. Despite this degrading and humiliating treatment Percy accepted his lot uncomplainingly but he was also beginning to feel resentment. During this period Rosie's work with Damien had had a remarkable effect. He had taken to the role of a girl as a duck takes to water. He enthusiastically immersed himself into all forms of womanly behaviour, eagerly demanding to wear the most extravagant clothing and make-up. Nothing it seemed was too feminine for him. He quickly mastered all the mannerisms of a female; became wholly confident at applying make-up, and walking in high heels. Damien, or Nancy as he now thought of himself, loved being totally sissified. He adored the lovely girly clothes and spent ages experimenting with his make-up. His hair had grown into a full thick mane which meant he no longer needed a wig. Rosie spent hours with curling tongs, rollers and bobbie-pins styling and re-styling his hair. A change had taken place in his body too. Not only was his hair thicker and finer, his skin had taken on a soft velvety texture, and most surprising of all he was growing small but perfectly formed breasts. Rosie was delighted with this as it meant she could now provide him with sexy bras to match his panties. Mildred was not unaware of these changes. She had substituted his testosterone pills for placebos soon after his arrival. With the loss of his testes the natural balance of his hormones had been upset, and the oestrogen production had overtaken that of the testosterone resulting in the boy acquiring the characteristics of a girl. Damien didn't know his pills had been switched nor would he have cared had he known, he was just thrilled that he was looking more and more feminine as the weeks went by. Mildred had become infatuated with Nancy. Her desire grew steadily stronger as the weeks passed until she was desperate to take the young boy/girl to her bed and ravish him. In her imagination she would fuck Nancy till they both collapsed in exhaustion and then begin again. Whenever she thought of him her cock would swell and when they were together she would often become fully erect. Her obsession with the boy became so great that she was often unable to sleep and she would creep into Nancy's bedroom and look at him as he slept in his silken nightwear. Her hand would reach into her panties and rub her swollen cock. On several occasions she had almost been discovered when her noisy climax had awakened the boy. One time as Mildred languidly massaged her throbbing member Nancy had risen from his bed to visit the bathroom. Only by quickly hiding behind the hanging drapes had her presence in the room remained undiscovered. She would have to have him soon or she would go insane. Damien was having similar thoughts and feelings toward Mildred. He didn't understand why he felt as he did. Whenever he was in Mildred's presence he was aware of an excitement in the pit of his stomach and a stirring in his loins. Being near her inevitably increased his heart rate and his blood pressure, causing his skin to glow pinkly around his neck and upper chest and his penis to grow hard. The sight of her stately beauty caused his breath to catch and whenever she praised him for looking particularly pretty or feminine he'd feel light headed. Sometimes he would deliberately annoy her knowing that the scolding he would get would only increase his excitement. Later, after being reprimanded, he'd find his panties wet from a spontaneous orgasm. Yet he couldn't really understand why he felt this way. As a sixteen year old boy with no experience of sex and living as he now was he had no one to discuss his feelings with. He'd tried asking Rosie but whenever he broached the subject of sex with her, she would tell he not to be having such dirty thoughts, to take a cold shower and say ten Hail Mary's. But he knew there had to be a reason. Eleven Mildred's desire for Nancy was now so intense that she decided the time had come when she would have to do something about it or burst. After Rosie and Mrs Shoreditch had left in the evening Mildred would summon Nancy to the drawing room where they would talk, discussing feminine topics such as the latest fashions, hair styles and the newest cosmetic products. She was delighted that Nancy was always eager to be with her. She encouraged the youth to talk about his feelings; how he felt about cross-dressing and living as a girl. "Oh I love it, Maam. I only wish I had been born a girl," he confessed. "When we are alone together like this there is no need to address me as Maam. You can call me Aunt Mildred," Mildred said. "Tell me what you like most about being a girl." "Oh, absolutely everything. I love the pampering; the make-up, the hair styling and I simply adore all the lovely clothes." And so their conversations would go, both of them becoming more and more excited till they would both be dripping pre-cum inside their delicate panties. Mildred would call Percy to serve them supper on trays and pour wine, then order him to stand in a corner facing the wall till they were finished when he would clear away. On one occasion Mildred deliberately spilled wine on the floor then ordered Percy to lick it up. She and Nancy giggled as they watched Percy on his hands and knees. Sometimes Nancy wondered if there was a limit to how much degradation he could take. Twelve Lord Percy's love for Mildred had not diminished since the first time he had met the beautiful transvestite in the club in London. Her loveliness still overwhelmed him and in his eyes he thought her beauty increased every day. Her striking good looks and regal manner was a thing of splendour. He had been the happiest man in the world when she had agreed to come and stay at the Manor. But much as he loved her the constant and mounting humiliation he was subjected to was slowly eroding his fondness for her. She had gradually taken over his life till he was now no more than a mere servant. He made no objection when she first moved into the Manor and had taken over the master suite. He'd calmly complied when she had relegated him to an upstairs room. He was happy to act as a maid, even wearing the ridiculously frilly aprons and little lacy caps. He served her meals as she sat in solitary grandeur in the main dining room. He had been forbidden to use the dining room and had been banished to the kitchen to eat his meals. He began to get alarmed when she took over the house finances and the management of the accounts. She informed Percy's accountant that they would hence-forth be administered in-house and he should forward all documentation to her immediately. Percy knew that Mildred had been a banker or something, so presumed she had the expertise to manage the estate and the household expenses. But he did protest, however, when she confiscated his credit cards and cheque book and made him hand over the cash in his strongbox. His protests were to no avail though; if he needed money, she said, he only had to ask and she would give him some. Yes a further humiliation and a demotion in his status. When she engaged Rosie as her personal maid he thought things would get easier, but he soon found himself waiting on both women. With Mildred's encouragement, Rosie also began making demeaning demands on him. He was soon doing all the housework, as well as serving meals. He was required to clean the house, scrub the floors and toilets as well as all the laundry and ironing. Mildred would inspect his work and if she considered it not up to standard he'd have to re-do it, and then he would be punished with anything from five to twenty strokes of her riding crop. But what really made him realize that he was no more than an insignificant person of absolutely no importance to her was when she fitted the chastity device. The utter disdain she showed when she did this almost caused him to snap. He could possibly have lived with this if that was as far as it went, but she made things infinitely worse by declaring that on the first day of each month he should present himself to her and beg to be released so that he could masturbate. Soon this degradation was not enough for her, so she upped the ante by making him jerk-off as she sat in her comfortable armchair and watched his efforts. Then she made him strip naked to do it, then naked and on his knees at her feet. The next escalation was to ejaculate onto a silver salver engraved with Percy's family crest, and then the following month he was forced to lick the platter clean. He was well aware that he need not obey her by the simple expediency of not getting an erection when he was released, but his body always betrayed him. Something deep inside compelled him to debase himself and much as he tried to remain detached, every time his cock became rigid and he quickly came producing a large amount of spunk. Rosie soon joined Mildred for the monthly spectacle and after Nancy had been at the Manor for several weeks she too joined the audience, watching in smirking silence as Percy performed his mortifying ritual. However, there was to be one more indignity that he would perform that would be too much for even his long suffering equanimity to endure. Thirteen One evening after Percy had been dismissed, Mildred and Nancy were sitting together on the couch when Mildred took Nancy's hands in her own and said, "Nancy do you want to know a secret?" "Ooo yes. I love secrets." "You must promise not to tell a soul, not even Rosie." "I promise, cross my heart and hope to die," Nancy said reciting the oath he'd used as a child. "Ok