Lady Ann s Greatly Extended Holiday Chapter Twenty Seven
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Lady Ann's Greatly Extended Holiday - Chapter Sixteen free porn video
A Working Man
1
Ann barely slept at all and every time he woke he felt a sinking thump in
his belly at exactly what had become of him and his so-called holiday;
exactly how sickeningly poor his situation was.
At 5am, with nothing better to do and nowhere warm and comfortable to go,
Ann eventually decided to walk to the farm where Jeb worked - where he
would be working today.
It gave him an awful sense of dread but still an essence of fervour.
There was a still a tiny part of him that was loving the intensity of
this entire experience, even if it was unpleasant. After almost two weeks
of pretending, today he was finally going to become what he had
fantasised about. He was going to become a working man - even if only for
one day. The idea of that was thrilling - the culmination of the most
sordid erotic fantasy of his life.
It made him chuckle. He hadn't realised what a saucy bint he was as Lady
Ann but that dark lust for this kind of kinky exploration must always
have been part of him.
It was only when Ann reached the farm and made his way straight to the
manager's office that it occurred to him that he shouldn't have been able
to. He had never been to this farm before - never seen it even; couldn't
have possibly known where the office was... but he had. It gave him an
uneasy feeling to realise that it had been another Burt memory, but this
one so subtly grafted that Ann hadn't even realised at first that it
didn't belong to him.
Jeb appeared from a barn to the right, hailing Ann over. "Eh up Burt,
yer'right?"
"Aye," replied Ann, "but I slept awful like."
"Well you better be ready to work hard my lad. Unless maybe's all that
time off's made ye soft."
"Give over," snapped Ann, resenting the challenge to his manhood. "I
ain't never been stronger. I can do anything you throw at me and then
some."
"Well you better get up to the north field. There's digging to be done
and lots of it."
"Digging?" Ann couldn't think of a worse; or more mindless; job.
"Aye. Unless this fortnight off o'yours has given you airs. Maybe's you
think your quality now." He chuckled.
"Ardly," said Ann sorrowfully. If there was one thing he wasn't in any
doubt of after his day in the stocks and his night sleeping rough, it was
that he was definitely not one of the quality... anymore.
"Well then," said Jeb. "You'd best be getting along."
"What about you?" asked Ann.
"Me? I've got to stay down here and help with the lambing."
"Lambing? Well why can't I do that?" asked Ann resentfully.
"No offence mate," replied Jeb, "but lambing needs fellows with more..."
He shrugged. "It ain't your fault you're ain't got much goin on
upstairs."
Ann's face fell.
"You'll be 'appier up there doin the diggin than down ere runnin about
keeping the lambs alive, I'll tell you that much." He pointed. "Just
follow the track up along the hedge line past two gates. You'll see the
other labourers there."
Jeb smiled and walked away, leaving Ann looking up the track toward his
fate.
The other labourers...
That's what he was now. Not pretending anymore. For real. And like the
real Burt he had no choice in the matter. It was either do a long day of
back-breaking labour or sleep rough and go hungry.
With a deep sigh, Ann started walking up the track, desperately wishing
that "Lady Ann" would hurry up and get back to Yorkshire to save him from
this awful situation.
2
Burt enjoyed the wind in her hair as she cantered across the park on a
lovely filly she'd borrowed from the stables.
She still felt forlorn that this wonderful holiday was coming to an end
but in other ways she craved its termination. Being Lady Ann had become
just too much torture, being tantalised with a life that couldn't be
hers. The sooner she was back in her own rightful body and life, the
better. It would be a terrible comedown now after this but at least she
could start to put these glorious experiences behind her and get back on
with her life.
"Ann! I say! Ann!"
She turned in the saddle and felt her heart lurch as the identity of the
caller became apparent. It was Lord Hurley - trotting toward her on a
black stallion!
"Ann, wait! Please!"
Burt considered riding away but propriety made her stop and Lord Hurley
circled round until he was at her front. "Ann. Thank goodness I've found
you. I hoped me might be able to talk..."
Tears welled into the edges of Burt's eyes. "I'm sorry Richard but I've
already told you how I feel." She started to turn her horse away but
Richard stopped her with a word.
"Please."
She froze.
"Please Ann. Since I saw you again in London I have... greatly enjoyed
sharing time with you and would be deeply aggrieved if we were to part on
unpleasant terms."
"Richard, please..."
"I don't ask much my dear, honestly. I know you must be reluctant to
extend an acquaintance with your departure so imminent. Perhaps you fear
to establish an association that would surely flounder when separated by
hundreds of miles."
"It would be much further than that," murmured Burt, unheard, her back to
Lord Hurley, the tears quivering, preparing to fall.
"I don't request any long term commitment of you Lady Ann. I want to
assure you that I will not press that matter. All I ask is that we enjoy
a quiet dinner before your departure, perhaps the day after tomorrow, on
your last night. Just to say goodbye. Might you... be amenable to that?"
Burt lowered her head and the tears trickled down her soft cheeks
silently. Then before she could stop herself she breathed the word,
"Yes."
3
Ann shovelled up some more dirt and tipped it onto the growing pile of
earth beside the hole, hating every second of it.
Where would he have been now if he'd still been a woman? He'd have still
been in London getting "bored" - but what would that have actually meant
in context with this arduous unending struggle?
He would have slept in, in a luxurious feather bed, then he probably
would have eaten a sumptuous breakfast. After that he might have spent
some time reading before going for a slow walk or a ride. True, he would
have had to attend a dreary luncheon at midday but at least he would have
been sitting down, surrounded by beautiful opulence.
Instead he was here, shovelling spadeful after spadeful of earth, dirty
and sweating as the sun started to climb in the sky. He'd already been
here for three hours and there was another seven hours of labour ahead of
him.
It was breathtaking. As a woman he'd never had to do anything strenuous -
had barely been forced into any activity, especially for an extended
period of time. Now though, he had to stay here. He had to stay here all
day and do as he was told. There was no escaping it. If he walked away he
wouldn't get paid and the time he'd spent here so far would be wasted.
Worse, he'd be starving and homeless for two more nights.
And that still wasn't the worst of it. The earl owned these lands. If he
walked away from the job, the earl might well find out and only God knew
what kind of punishment might be meted out on him for it.
He still resented how servile he'd acted in front of the earl; begging to
be saved from the stocks... but he continued to live in abject terror of
them; of angering the earl for any reason.
No. For now there were no two ways about it. He was a working man.
But thinking that gave Ann a kind of tingle still. This was, after all,
exactly what he had fantasised about being all along. Today he had really
taken on every aspect of that. He really was a lower class working man.
Thinking that gave him a flutter of different impressions: a kinky, dirty
feeling of self-degradation but also a level of pride. For over a week
now he had felt a level of guilt somewhere in his body that while he was
Burt it was only right to live up to Burt's responsibilities.
That was surely what he was doing now.
He dug up another shovelful. "I'm a working man."
And another. "I'm a working man."
Another. "I'm a working man."
And another. "I'm a working man."
And he was so busy working he didn't notice the warm tingling in the back
of his skull, gently working on his mind with each reiteration.
4
When Burt arrived with grandmamma at the Jessop's she was greeted
graciously and invited inside.
They made pleasantries with their hosts for several minutes before Burt
caught sight of the lazy maid who had had the effrontery to try on her
jewellery. Betty saw her there and paled visibly and Burt gave her a cold
smile and turned away, otherwise ignoring the girl.
When she brought in the lunch things on a silver tray she was shaking
with nerves, eying Burt repeatedly as she made polite conversations with
the girl's employers.
Gregory Jessop was into tobacco and had made a fortune importing it from
abroad. His father had been a close acquaintance of Grandmamma's husband
when he was alive and she had known Gregory since he was a little boy.
Burt got along famously with the couple and they both remarked on her
outstanding beauty and on her impeccable breading... which Grandmamma
took full credit for.
Burt watched the ignorant maid go about her duties, contemplating the
objective of their visit and questioning whether she should really go
through with it. Since the chance meeting with Lord Hurley earlier she
had lost the malaise that had afflicted her disposition. Now there didn't
seem quite so much need to do this stupid girl down as there had been.
She decided to let the luncheon play out for now but when she excused
herself to use the powder room the girl approached her in the hallway.
"Excuse me miss."
Burt turned to her and found her voice to be more sharp-edged than she
had intended when she said, "What is it?"
"Please miss. Please don't make trouble for me ere. I got a good fing
going and I don't want it ruinin."
Burt winced at the awful lower class accent of the girl, feeling it like
the screech of fingernails on a blackboard. She resented the tone of the
girl and the demands this urchin was making. Who was she to make demands
of one of her superiors?
Burt turned away, ignoring her.
"Miss please!"
Burt stopped. He looked back to face Betty then said, "If I were you I
would keep a low profile my girl. All you are doing now is reminding me
exactly why I had you fired in the first place. Your laziness and
stupidity are bad enough. Your insolence makes it far worse. And as for
your dim-witted expression and lackadaisical attitude..." She turned her
back on the startled girl and disappeared from view.
When she returned to the dining room the dull-brained maid was nowhere to
be seen. Lady Jessop made enquiries to be told the girl was feeling ill.
Burt smiled thinly and said, "You know we had the same girl under our
employ."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. And she always came across as lazy and good-for-nothing. Her work
was shoddy and half-hearted and she was found... going through my
things."
"No. Really?" Lady Jessop looked deeply shocked.
"Indeed," replied Burt. "I shudder to think what might have happened if I
hadn't come across her with her hand in my jewellery box."
"Do you mean to say the girl's a thief?" asked Lord Jessop.
Burt looked him in the eye. "I couldn't say for certain, no; though I
know in my heart that it's true. And I also know that I couldn't sleep
soundly at night knowing she had free run of my house."
5
When Burt was climbing into the carriage at the front of the Jessops'
townhouse with Grandmamma at the luncheon's end she caught sight of the
lazy maid emerging from the servant's entrance.
The girl was dressed again in her ordinary clothes and carrying a
threadbare bag of clothes and other belongings. She looked utterly
despondent as she climbed the steps from the lower level onto the street.
Burt and Grandmamma watched her forlornly start to walk away, head hung
low, steps shuffling.
"She'll never get another job in service now," said Grandmamma. "Not with
two bad references. She'll be blacklisted."
"Well," replied Burt snippily, "she should have done a better job when
she had the chance."
The carriage started to move off and for a moment Burt's eyes met the
sad-looking girl.
The maid gazed disconsolately out of her muddled face, and in return,
Burt gave her a cold and triumphant smile.
Then she was gone in the carriage's dust and within a minute Burt had put
the ignorant girl entirely out of her mind.
?
6
Ann was exhausted. He'd never felt like this in all his born days. It was
awful! He and the other labourers had been digging nonstop since first
thing and the trench stretched a good way but not as far as Ann would
have expected. It was much harder and slower work than he'd ever
considered.
Now that he was really a labourer it made him see it all in a totally
different light. While he'd been Lady Ann it had seemed simplicity itself
to order servants to get things done and then put it out of her mind.
Now, as Burt, having to actually do that backbreaking labour was another
thing entirely. He had new respect for the lower orders and the hard work
they had to get on with while the quality ponced about putting on airs,
making out like they was better.
It was like the vicar had said in his sermon in Blackpool, working men's
bodies were stronger. They excelled at labour and that labour was vital.
Without it the country would grind to a halt. People wouldn't get fed.
Working folk might not be capable of making decisions... "But we're more
than capable of getting on with what really matters," he said aloud.
Ann scratched his head, reflecting with wonder how far this adventurous
journey had taken him in his thinking. Not only did he regard working
folk as being more important than he ever had... he undoubtedly thought
of himself as one of them. He saw the quality as separate from him:
superior in many ways, but weaker too than he was, incapable of doing the
hard graft as he was.
The foreman thanked him for his hard work and Ann sauntered down toward
the office to get his pay, smiling mildly. The day had been hell but he
felt proud of himself now for completing it. He'd fantasised for two
weeks about being a working man and now he was one. And he was a good
hard working man - not like some of the other shirkers. It made him feel
proud of himself.
The sun was shining but there was a cool breeze and the painful element
of the exhaustion was subsiding a little now. He enjoyed the walk down to
the farm buildings, looking out across the fields.
Perhaps this holiday hadn't been a mistake after all. He'd wanted to
experience life as a lower class man and now he really had. And the
hardest part was behind him now. With the cash he earned today he'd
easily be able to have the following day - his last full day as Burt -
off to languish around.
But when he got to the office he looked forlornly at the pittance he was
given for his day's graft. It was a minuscule amount, insignificant
compared to the monies he'd had access to as a lady, and barely enough to
cover his last two nights as Burt.
"Is that all I get?" he asked.
"Course it is," said Jeb, chuckling. "Unless you think you're worth more
than the other men. You ain't some distant heir to the throne what we
don't know about are you?"
Ann frowned. "No. I ain't."
"Well then. Gerroff with ye. Will we see you ere tomorrow?"
"Nah," said Ann. That's the last day of me olideee. I want to enjoy it."
"Right you are. Well I'll see ye down't Dog n Pony later I bet."
"Aye," replied Ann and trudged off despondently. He'd been hoping to have
some pin money to splash around. This wasn't going to get him very far at
all!
7
When Ann reached the manor house forty five minutes later he reluctantly
handed over the entirety of his day's wages to Harry, trying to avoid
looking at the old man's leering face.
It was a rude awakening to the price of things at his new strata of
society. What he thought of as a lot of money and what he thought of as
cheap were rapidly being overwritten by his new situation. The cost of
his rent was tiny, but right now, from this lower perspective, it seemed
exorbitant. By contrast, anything of real value to his former persona
would have seemed infinitely beyond reach.
"Right," said Harry. "That'll cover you for tonight and tomorrow night
and some scraps off cook for tea but you'll be out on your ear day after
tomorrow unless you can pony up some cash from somewhere."
Ann shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me." It wouldn't be him sleeping rough
it would be the real Burt, back in his body by then. That would teach him
for his obsequiousness. Ann would be long back in her own body, sleeping
between silk sheets.
He chuckled.
"I don't know what you're laughing at Burt, m'lad. I'm not joking around
about that. You need to be taught a lesson in manners and the minute this
holiday of yours is over I'm going to make sure you learn it, and then
some."
"Whatever you say 'Arry." Ann shrugged again and sauntered off, ignoring
him.
"Do'ye here me lad! I'm going to make your life a living hell for not
respectin' me!"
Ann walked out of sight round the back of the stable.
"Burt! Are you even listening!?"
Ann chuckled to himself and climbed up to his hayloft. It was hilarious
to think of the trouble the real Burt was going to get in thanks for his
trouble when he came back.
But she, as Lady Ann could intercede and prevent it if she wished.
He grinned to himself.
If... she wished...
It made him feel good to relish having that kind of power over someone's
life again - after feeling increasingly powerless in this new life he was
stuck in.
Ann looked down at his pallet on the floor and sighed. It was going to be
good to be able to sleep on it again. He shook his head ruefully,
smirking at how low he had fallen when sleeping on a straw mattress on
the floor would feel like luxury.
But it did.
Ann checked his pockets. The rent had cleaned him out. He didn't have
nowt. But he fancied a drink sure enough. He went to the door and climbed
back down the outside staircase then set off for the village.
He'd bought enough rounds in over the last couple of weeks; surely
somebody at the Dog & Pony would stand him a pint or six.
He was determined to turn this into a good night to end a hard day of
labour and no mistake.
8
In London, Burt was curled in a chair beside the fire in her bedroom when
a light tap at the door disturbed her from her reading. She quickly
checked herself then said, "Enter."
The upstairs maid came in, curtseyed and approached. "Beggin your pardon
m'lady. A messenger just brought you this." She handed Burt an envelope
then curtseyed again and withdrew.
Burt fingered the Hurley seal on the back of the envelope and pried it
open breathlessly. Salty tears crept to her eyes as she read the elegant
masculine script inside, first once, then again, and then a third time.
She leant back in her chair and clutched the letter to her bosom, running
the words back once again, only this time within her mind.
The feelings that Richard's words had incited fluttered throughout her
body, lifting her soul. She thought only of seeing him again and the
delight of that.
She didn't for a moment consider the real Lady Ann waiting for her to
return to Yorkshire, trapped in the body of a lowly stable hand.
She didn't think about him at all.
9
Ann hesitated when he reached the door to the Dog& Pony, looking in
through the glass.
The usual carousing was going on inside that a few days past would have
drawn him bawdily in. Now though... Now it felt different there - not
as... homely.
A few nights earlier he'd had cash in his pockets to throw around and
confidence still that he was living the best of both worlds: Burt in body
and Lady Ann in spirit. Since then he'd been made to look a fool in front
of Mavis at the restaurant, idiotically thrown away the last of his money
on a bet, argued with Mavis, beaten that man and then been humiliated by
the earl and locked in the stocks. Since then he'd been made homeless and
forced to work as a labourer.
He no longer had any illusions about his lack of power or status. The
cocky assuredness he'd had knowing he was Lady Ann in Burt's body had
vanished when it was demonstrated to him just what a craven simpleton he
could be... how he really was trapped in this life until "Lady Ann"
returned. He really was just Burt the stable hand. The idiot. The pauper.
The labourer.
And it was then that it occurred to him that all day, people had been
calling him Burt and not once had it seemed odd. He'd been ordered about
at the farm from dawn until dusk by the name of Burt and he'd just
followed the instructions without once stopping to reflect on the fact
that it wasn't really his name. He'd answered without thinking as though
it really was.
He shuddered at how completely immersed he had become in this identity
for that to happen - for him to not find the idea of being called that
odd. To not even notice.
It was utterly chilling. And that wasn't the only thing.
The idea of going into the Dog & Piny in front of his mates after all
that had happened was more than a little frightening, thinking they might
ridicule him for everything he'd done.
But nevertheless, Ann steeled himself. Even if it didn't feel true
anymore, he knew that somewhere deep inside this coarse hairy body was
the soul of an aristocratic woman, far superior to all these yokels. He'd
be damned if he let them intimidate him.
He pushed open the door.
"Ey up! Looks who's ere!"
"Ey, is that our Burt?"
"It surely is!"
"Burt! Come in and let's ave a look at ya! Let's ave a look at public
enemy number one!"
All the men laughed. Everyone was looking at him. Burt blushed and pushed
through to the bar.
"I'm not sure we serve criminals in ere," said the barman, grinning.
A man clapped Ann on the back. "You didn't arf look like a dunce out
there on them stocks Burt! It was bloody hilarious!"
Ann gave a half smile. "Yeah. Well. I'm off em now. How's about buying me
a drink to make me feel better?"
"You 'ear that lads! Burt wants us to buy'im a drink!"
"Ere Burt!" shouted one man, holding up his glass to show the dregs at
the bottom. "You can ave this!" He gave a loud belly laugh.
"And this Burt!" shouted another man, raising his almost empty glass.
"You're welcome to finish this off!"
Everyone was laughing as Ann blushed furiously, raising their empty pint
glasses all round and laughing at him. All the drinks he'd bought them
over the fortnight and now all they could do was make fun of him!
"Sod ye! He bellowed. "Sod the lot'a ye!"
They laughed even louder as Ann pushed his way to the door and went
outside into the night.
They were still laughing as he stomped back up the hill toward Griply
Hall, feeling furious, crestfallen and despondent.
... and for more of my stories, check out:
http://transformation-stories.blogspot.co.uk/
Libbie
- 06.09.2020
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