Lady Ann s Greatly Extended Holiday Chapter Twenty Seven
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Lady Ann's Greatly Extended Holiday - Chapter Twenty Two free porn video
Feeling Real
1
Burt forked up the dirty hay from the floor of the stable, thinking to
himself that this was exactly what he had been doing when Lady Ann
approached him to-- when he, as Lady Ann had approached the real-- the old
Burt to ask him to swap. The exact same activity, and here he was doing
it as though he'd been born to it and there was still no sign of her
ladyship coming back to change forms.
He'd lost count of how many days it was now since she was meant to return
- how many days he'd had to live Burt's-- live his new life in its
entirety. Except it wasn't even that good. The life he was living was
worse than the old Burt's life. At least back then he'd had Mavis. Now he
didn't have nobody.
He had hard graft from sun up to sun down in a filthy body with no brains
to speak of. He had precious little money. He had few mates and no woman.
He had his drafty old hay loft to sleep in night after night. His life
was miserable.
The only thing that made him happy was when he put his lot in life out of
his mind and just thought about his pride at being a hardworking man. He
didn't shirk on the job - not for a second. He did what he was told and
did it quickly, rushing back to get more instructions as soon as one task
was finished. That made him feel good, as close to happy as he could get.
And the labour itself was enjoyable in a way, flexing his strong arms;
hauling massive weights. These were things he could never have done in
his former life.
His former life...
It felt like that - like his life as a woman was something impossible
that could never really have happened; not a part of his past at all but
merely a half remembered dream. And one that didn't really make sense. He
actually found himself mulling over whether magic really existed or not.
He was sure it didn't was all; he'd known it all his life. And all his
memories of his life as boy and man whispered that the idea of some
mystical transformation from being a rich and beautiful heiress who stood
to inherit all this land was and could only ever be a silly fantasy.
Inside his dull-witted brain he actually found himself questioning the
reality of it, unsure at times whether it really was all false; that he'd
always been Burt. Surely that was the case. That was the only thing that
made sense.
But then other times he remembered his life as Ann clearly and he knew
that the Burt history was the lie. This entire life was a lie!
Except it wasn't. It was the only thing that truly was real.
He had Burt's body. He had Burt's brain. He had Burt's job. He slept in
Burt's bed. He lived Burt's life in its entirety.
He was Burt. He really really was Burt.
And it felt like he always would be.
2
Seated in the lounge, Lady Ann watched her grandmamma's butler clearing
away a tea tray and newspaper, thinking about the reaffirmation she kept
repeating to herself and wondering if it would have taken effect yet.
It had felt entirely wrong at first to keep reiterating that she was a
haughty and domineering woman who cared nothing for the feelings of
others but it gave her a naughty thrill to do it anyway, knowing that in
all likelihood it would actually cause her to begin acting and feeling
that way. It was difficult to know. She wondered if even wanting to test
it, even wanting to alter herself in that way, was already evidence of
its gentle working on her but there was only one way to find out.
"Porter!" she said.
The elderly butler turned to face her with a courteous bow. "Yes m'lady?"
"If I wanted that clearing away I would have rung for you."
She smiled inside to hear this imperious tone flowing so naturally. She
saw the flicker of offence in his eyes; of embarrassment; but she kept
her gaze fixed on him, pinning him to the spot as if by mesmerism. And
she find that she wasn't awfully bothered of guilty about this. He was,
after all, only a servant.
"Apologies m'lady. I shouldn't have disturbed you." He made to withdraw.
"Porter!"
He stopped again. "Yes m'lady?"
"Put the things back down then. I said I didn't want them taken away."
"Begging your pardon m'lady," he replied, clearly unsure of himself,
"You'd like me to leave the dirty cups?"
"Are you talking back to me Porter?" she snapped.
"Apologies. Of course not m'lady."
"Good. Then put them back down and scurry off somewhere and do some
actual work instead of bothering me."
Porter placed the tea things and paper back down and withdrew quietly but
obviously quite perturbed by the whole encounter.
Ann grinned to herself as he closed the door, enjoying it immensely. "I'm
Lady Ann Neville," she whispered through her smiling lips. "I'm a haughty
and domineering woman who cares nothing for the feelings of others."
And pleasant warmth continued to spread out from the base of her skull
into her brain and into her soul.
3
Burt deposited the crate of vegetables he'd been sent up with by the back
door to Griply Hall and turned to hurry back, pausing when he spotted
Lottie, the chamber maid, beating a carpet on the line to get the dust
out of it.
He loitered, watching her work for several minutes, eyeing her figure,
concealed though it was by her long maid's outfit. She was no Mavis and
certainly no Lady Ann; she was skinny and her nose was too big; but he
was feeling as horny as hell and couldn't help feeling attracted to her.
He was, after all, only a man and he had urges - animalistic urges that
he couldn't rightly control. He found himself wanting her; wanting to
have her; and his erection grew to a throbbing rod in his dirty trousers.
His confidence had been knocked with the fairer sex. He felt like he
didn't... like he didn't understand women at all no more, but he felt he
ought to be in with a good chance with her. She wasn't the prettiest girl
around and she was the lowest ranking servant in the house. She was bound
to be up for a bit of rumpy pumpy and he still remembered with relish the
great time he'd had with those slags in Blackpool. He desperately wanted
a repeat of something like that.
He imagined taking Lottie round by the coal shed and taking her from
behind like a dog. That would be right champion that would. Right
champion.
For a moment he considered what a horrific comedown this was compared to
his former life - how low his standards and requirements for romance had
sunk - but he shook his head to dismiss any such concerns. He was Burt
now, through and through and this was more than good enough for the likes
of him.
With his courage fanned a little he sauntered over and leaned against the
pole supporting the clothes line. "Eh up Lottie."
"Oh. It's you again. What do you want now Burt 'Arper?"
He flashed his eyes lasciviously. "I was wonderin ow you'd fancy goin
over yonder and 'avin a shag."
"Eh?"
"In the coal shed." He winked at her.
She laughed. "You've got to be ruddy kidding me!"
"What?"
"Ere, Bessie!" she called. Burt groaned as the cook emerged from the back
door, drying her hands on a tea towel. "Get a load o this!" The cook
approached. Lottie put on a posh-sounding voice. "Burt requests my
presence in the coal shed to partake of what he likes to term... a shag."
Both women howled with laughter while Burt turned bright red from the
humiliation.
"Oh does he now?" said cook. "It sounds like he's got time on is 'ands!"
"Oh aye," replied Lottie. "I wonder if we've got anything ee could be
getting up to." They both put their hands on their hips as Burt tried to
withdraw.
"Ere, where do you think you're going my lad?" asked cook.
Burt froze. "I've gotta be getting back down to Arry for instructions."
"I'll give you instructions young man," she said, then as she saw him
shaking his head, added, "unless you'd like me to call her ladyship out
here to hear about you molesting one of er staff."
Burt paled. "No. I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you say."
They smirked. "Get the man the scrubbing brush," said cook. Lottie popped
inside and emerged with a hand brush. "Now," said cook, "get down on them
knees o yours and start scrubbing these flags with the water in yon
bucket."
Burt sighed and immediately did as he was instructed.
"Come on," snapped cook. "Hurry it up!"
He got the bucket and the brush and, on his knees on the stone floor,
started to hand scrub the big flagstones, head down, brushing hard back
and forth.
The two women withdrew to watch him from several feet away and started
whispering and giggling, pointing from time to time at him as he went on
working. He went on scrubbing and they went on giggling. He wanted to
tell them what for, to make them stop it but he was afraid to in case it
got him in more trouble.
They burst out laughing and he paused, trying to listen to what they were
saying.
"Ere!" shouted cook. "Get scrubbing you lazy cur! I don't see those
flagstones shining yet!"
"Sorry ma'am," muttered Burt, "I'll work harder," and put his head down,
scrubbing as vigorously and as fast as he could.
4
Being rude to servants was one thing, but though Ann had proved something
to herself by being snitty with her grandmother's senior servant, there
was still no firm indication that the more tyrannical side of the old
Lady Ann had slid across into her own mind.
The original Lady Ann hadn't just been rude to maids, butlers and
groundsmen; she had treated everyone awfully. And she had done it so
automatically that without testing it in context it was impossible to
know if that contempt had found purchase in her mind. This frustrated her
but she was determined to create that necessary context to determine the
extent of the transference.
She called for Thornton, the young footman whom her grandmamma had given
her permission to take out on trips to provide service and, if necessary,
some measure of protection. She tapped her foot irritably as she waited
for him to get ready for their excursion, secretly thrilled when she
noticed how impatient and disdainful she was feeling.
She wasn't sure why it thrilled her so to show signs of taking on these
vindictive and petulant traits (did she really want to become such a
spiteful and ill-tempered woman?) but it did. And she knew that a big
part of that was the hope that if she became self-centered enough she
wouldn't feel guilty about betraying that filthy urchin waiting to thrust
her back into a life of servitude in Yorkshire.
But she knew it wasn't working quickly enough because she did feel some
measure of guilt when she thought about that craven dullard trapped in a
life that had been given by the good Lord to her.
Thornton emerged from the back of the townhouse and Ann hurried him out
through the front door, ignoring him the instant they were outside as she
set off down the street.
In the park she kept her eyes peeled for a suitable test and spotted one
after only a short while. There was a man selling ices from a little
push-carriage with a queue of people waiting in line. In the queue was a
man and a little girl. The little girl was pointing at something and the
gap they had left in the queue was easily big enough for someone to step
into.
Ann narrowed her eyes. The original Ann wouldn't have cared about anyone
else. She might well have stepped into that gap to jump the queue and
then snapped at the man for challenging her. If she wanted to take on
that same disregard for others then this was her opportunity.
She closed her eyes for a moment and said to herself, I'm Lady Ann. I'm
Lady Ann. Other people don't matter to me as long as I'm happy, then she
marched toward the gap in the queue, smiling grimly as the father saw
what he daughter was pointed at and pointed too, completely oblivious to
what she was about to do.
She was ten feet away, then closed to six and then four. The person in
front of the man and his daughter took their ice and thanked the vendor,
walking on. It was the perfect moment.
But at the last second Ann faltered. She looked at the little girl and
her dad and all the forward action went from her stride. She stopped,
looking from the ice cream vendor to the man and his daughter, to the gap
of paving that still remained open for her to step into. It seemed like
such a simple thing to do so but... she couldn't do it.
She opened her lips to say, Excuse me. It's your turn, to the man instead
but that didn't come out either. She just stood there, unsure how to act
and feeling a mixture of anger, frustration and... relief...? Maybe.
At this the father stood back up from his crouch and turned, seeing Ann
for the first time. "Apologies," he said. "Are you next?"
Ann looked back at him and then one last time at the vendor and then
replied, "No. I don't feel like an ice cream today."
The man chuckled. "Well. Perhaps tomorrow then."
"Yes," replied Ann. "We'll see."
5
Burt was well and truly tired of feeling sorry for himself.
There was still no sign of Lady Ann coming back and he was fully resigned
to the fact that he had to go on living his life until she saw fit to
return but he had had more than enough of hating every minute of it.
He reminded himself that he had chosen to become a man in the first place
- he'd chosen to be Burt - even if he could no longer understand quite
why. This was his holiday from his former life and if it was an extended
holiday then surely that was a good thing in a way. He'd wanted to really
experience living life as a lower class working man and now he was.
Moping about it and feeling bitter was a waste of time! He was determined
to go back to enjoying it as much as he could.
When he was done for the day with work he set off down toward the
village, whistling a tune that he remembered his old da used to sing when
he was a boy. It felt good to be finished with work for the day and it
was a lovely warm evening. He took the route across the fields so that he
could enjoy the countryside.
While he walked he listed in his mind all the good things about his life
that he might as well enjoy while he could.
He was fit and strong. He loved his muscular body and the feeling of
confidence it gave him; the masculine swagger in his stride.
He was a hardworking man who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty; not
like Harry or those toffs in the hall or the house servants who wouldn't
know hard work if it came and bit them on the arse. He was amazed at how
proud he felt about that - how good it made him feel to think of himself
that way... as long as he was forced into it anyway. Obviously he would
rather not have had to do it but he was trying to look for the good in
his predicament.
He was a well-endowed man with a huge great donger and thinking of it
there in his trousers gave him a wonderful sense of superiority. He bet
it was bigger than every other man he knew: Harry for sure and Jeb most
likely; surely that nasty gentleman he'd seen on the train platform wot
used to be one of his suitors in his old life: Lord Richard Hurley.
He was single, and that meant he had the freedom to give his cock out to
any woman he found. He'd not had much luck in that department lately but
he was sure that was more to do with his attitude than anything. When he
first became Burt he'd had an indomitable confidence. As a result he'd
had women right left and centre. It was since he'd lost all his money and
spent that time in the stocks that he'd lost his mojo and most of that
was because he'd been down in the dumps about understanding just how
limited his position was now he was stuck in this life.
But he was being positive now. He was looking for the silver lining. He'd
accepted he was stuck being who he was for now and so he wasn't worrying
about it too much no more. He was determined to get his old manly
confidence back and then use it to win back Mavis.
And the first order of business there was to make her jealous. And to do
that he planned to bed as many women in the village as he could!
He walked on, chuckling to himself, feeling better by the minute.
If he was stuck being Burt he was going to bloody well get every bit of
enjoyment out of it that he could!
6
Ann told the servant, Thornton, to wait for her and walked on alone to
the edge of the lake, looking out across the calm surface, watching the
gently spreading ripples from the light wind.
She didn't know quite what she had wanted to achieve today but she knew
she hadn't succeeded and she knew she was being foolish anyway somehow.
All of this was ridiculous. The very idea of wishing that she be cruel
and callous was preposterous. Why would anyone wish such a thing?
Although she knew why she wished it with all her heart.
But it wasn't worth it. For what if this silly wish came true and she
really became as oftentimes petulant and vindictive as the original Lady
Ann? She might become cruel enough to renege on her promise to give this
body back but she'd spend the rest of her life as a nasty and hateful
woman. And she didn't want that. She really didn't.
She closed her arms tightly round her stomach, staring across the
rippling sheen of reflected sky and a question slid into her mind that
surprised her, capturing her attention suddenly.
What did she want? Really?
All her life as Burt she had followed the orders of her betters. Now,
she'd been catapulted into this strange exchange at the whim of her
namesake, again with no real power or control. Yes, she'd fantasized
about betraying... him... but that was all it was: a fantasy. She wasn't the
kind of person who would do that and it was absurd to imagine that she
could become like that - or that she'd be happy.
No.
But that still left her with the question.
What did she want? Really. And...
And what was she prepared to do to get it?
7
Burt walked into the Dog & Pony with a newly rediscovered swagger. He
walked up to the bar and put down enough pennies for a pint then he
turned round and surveyed what punters were in.
Mavis was taking drinks round as usual with the same scowl on her face
she'd been wearing since the day he'd been thrown in the stocks. He
didn't much look at her but sauntered over in her direction. She stopped,
preparing to make some snitty remark, but Burt walked right by her
without a glance and sat at the table where two bawdy girls were
gossiping. Behind him, Mavis looked slightly put out but Burt ignored
her.
"Eh up girls," he said. "Ow do?"
One was blond, the other brunette. They weren't beauties like Lady Ann
but they bulged in all the right places. "Ahright Burt," said the blond.
"You look different."
"It's cause I ain't mopin around no more," he said. "I thought I'd go
back to enjoyin life if that's alright with you."
They giggled. "That's alright with us Burt."
He grinned. "Good. Cause I was wonderin if'n you was ere the night I ad
me todger out and was flappin it around."
The brunette gave off peals of delighted laughter but her friend blushed
deeply. "Oh we remember Burt!" said the Brunette. "It's all we talked
about for days!"
Burt took a long swig of his beer. "That's what I 'oped you'd say. Cause
I was wonderin if a couple of pretty lasses like you might want another
look."
The blond girl twittered with mirth and embarrassment while her bawdier
friend put her soft hand on top of Burt's. "I thought you were with
Mavis. We wouldn't want 'er scratchin our eyes out."
"Needn't worry about that," replied Burt confidently, and loudly enough
so that Mavis could hear. "Mavis'n'me are over with. I wants me some real
action now, if'n you know what I mean." The girls laughed and Burt took
the opportunity of throwing the rather sour-looking Mavis a quick wink.
Then he gripped the brunette's fingers and put his other hand on top of
the blonde's. "Now then ladies. How's about I buy you another drink and
then we can slip off somewhere then maybe's I'll let you see if me cock
ain't even bigger than you remember."
"Alright then Burt," said the blonde. "Don't mind if we do." They both
giggled and Burt got to his feet to fetch the drinks feeling a welcome
and overdue swell of male pride. This was more like it and it was exactly
what he needed. It was what he'd been missing while he pratted about
feeling sorry for himself. This was what being a man was all about and he
loved the feeling of masculinity - the thrill of flirtation. He loved
being fancied by women for his strength and virility.
He was remembering why it was that he loved being a man.
Why he loved being Burt.
For more of my stories, check out: http://transformation-
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