Lady Ann's Greatly Extended Holiday - Chapter Thirty free porn video

Chapter Thirty Due Penance 1 Burt stared at Lady Harriet, wishing with all his soul that he cold wind back the last five minutes of his life; or better: the last few weeks. He had grown up as the beautiful and cultured Lady Ann Neville, first daughter of the Earl, and lavished with every possible luxury. He had been waited on by numerous servants, treated like royalty, allowed every benefit of his upper class status and upbringing. But not anymore. Now he was stuck in the body of a low-born man and he had been caught red-handed in the act of theft. Burt had been in run-ins with the Earl before but never like this and never before had he so deeply understood in advance the precariousness of his position. When he'd been thrown in the stocks it had been a horrible occurrence but he had still believed himself to be Lady Ann stuck in a temporary and annoying fix. Such wasn't the case anymore. He knew now that the new Lady Ann had no intention of ever swapping back and he knew that the magical effect had passed completely. He was no longer Lady Ann trapped in Burt's body. He really was Burt. From the family's perception he was nothing more than a servant who'd been caught thieving. And the repercussions of that fell on him alone. This wasn't a life he was borrowing anymore; it really was his life. The punishment meted out to him today would determine what path his life would take for the rest of his days. He was Burt now and he would still be Burt a year hence; ten years hence. He was going to be Burt Harper until the day he died: a withered old broken down man. The next moments would determine if he would spend those years free or imprisoned; whether he'd be discharged with no reference, lucky to get work down Blacklake mine, or whether he'd be beaten to within an inch of his life. With Hattie's call for her father to come, all control had left him. It was to the whims of the quality alone that his fate was cast now, and there was nothing he could do to prevent that. Hattie looked him in the eyes again then called out once more. "Father! Come here quickly! I've caught a thief!" 2 The thunderous footsteps of the Earl tromped down the landing and Burt withdrew further into the room, overcome with alarm. He wanted to say something or take some action - anything to deter the imminence of his punishment - but what could he do? He'd even lost possession of the pendant now. He might have accepted trading lives with the powerful Earl - even though he was a lot older; at least he was a man - but that opportunity was gone. The door swung open and the tall Earl filled the doorway. He looked from Hattie's imperious expression to Burt's and then his metallic eyes glistened, his frown closing around them. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Burt opened his mouth to speak. "Harriet? What the devil's going on here? What is this gutter trash doing in Ann's bedroom?" Hattie's features were almost playful but it was the spiteful play of a child torturing insects to death. "I caught him in here, going through Ann's things, touching her undergarments." Burt's head shook slightly but what could he say? That was what he had been doing! "He'd forced open her dresser drawer. Look." She pointed. "He had some of her jewellery. I caught him stealing it." "But sir--" began Burt. "Silence!" snapped the Earl. "You impudent cur! You'll keep your mouth shut!" He walked across to the dresser and pulled open the drawer then closed it, examining the damage. He surveyed the open drawers and ruffled clothes. "It's common knowledge he's infatuated with Ann," said Hattie. Burt stared at her, wishing she would stop talking. She was only making it worse for him. If only he could tell her who he really was. If only he could tell them both! But they would never believe him without Lady Ann to corroborate it and he already knew that she wouldn't. The Earl looked at her. "Is that right?" "Yes. He's always hanging around staring at her like a lovesick puppy." She looked Burt in the eye. "And he propositioned me a fortnight ago." "What?" Burt just went on gaping. It was going from bad to worse! Why couldn't Hattie shut up!? "I was out walking up at Griply Mount and he sidled up to me in the dark and started making suggestive comments. I was afraid he was going to force himself on me but I saw him off right enough. I should have told you about that then - had him dismissed. Or flogged." Blood was creeping up the Earl's neck to his face as he turned slowly in Burt's direction. Burt's head was shaking back and forth. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. His life was falling down about his ears! His life - not her ladyship's! This was his life now - well and truly - and it was rapidly becoming a nightmare! "Well boy?" snapped the Earl. "What have you got to say for yourself?" Burt swallowed but when he tried to talk his voice was quivering so much his words became a garble. He cleared his throat and tried again but only a mumble came out. "Speak up man!" He cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry m'lord," he stammered. "I didn't mean nowt wrong. I was just lookin for a pendant o mine wot er ladyship borrowed." "Don't try to lie your way out of it, you filthy blackguard!" "I'm not sir. I swear." "How dare you talk back to me!?" The Earl grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, pulling him forward off balance. "Come here! Trying to make out that I'm a liar indeed! The least you could do is have enough breeding to admit you've done wrong!" "I'm sorry sir," whimpered Burt as the Earl twisted him round and shoved him out into the corridor. "I didn't mean nothing by it." "Keep your trap shut! I don't want to hear any more excuses or whining. Be a man and accept that you've been caught at least, for God's sake!" Burt was shoved again between his shoulders making him stumble forward. "Go on!" cried the Earl. "Hurry up!" He got to the main landing and fell against the railing that ran around above the hall then span round in anguish and fear to look at the Earl advancing towards him. The older man's face was set into a mask of determination. Behind him, coming along, Hattie's features were full of excitement and mischief. This was nothing but a game to her! Didn't she realise that his entire future was at risk? The Earl emerged from the corridor then snarled as he grabbed a handful of Burt's shirt at the shoulder again, pulling him around and hurling him forward. Burt lost his footing and went down, slamming into the carpet and burning his palms. He cracked his head on the floor nastily and lifted it unsteadily, slightly stunned. "Powell!" cried the Earl to the butler. "Find the shackles and bring them out to the front! We have ourselves a thief!" Faces were appearing in doorways and in the hallway below. The indoor servants had come to see what the ruckus was about and then the Countess emerged from the drawing room. Burt locked eyes with his former mother; the woman who had always doted on him in his former life; and saw the expression become one of disdain and repulsion. Somehow that was the worst thing that had happened to him so far: that condemnation from the woman who had given birth to him. Then he heard something that shook him even more, that frightened him right down to his bones. "And Powell!" called the Earl. "Bring out my whip! I take a very dim view on theft of my property; a very dim view. This abominable cur is going to learn a lesson and serve as an example to anyone else who thinks they have a right to violate my property and threaten my daughter!" This couldn't be happening! It just couldn't! Why didn't they realise he was supposed to be Lady Ann!? How could it have come to this!? He wasn't meant to be stuck this way! He wasn't meant to be Burt! 3 The Earl pushed Burt out of the manor's front door and he stumbled down the steps. The Countess and Hattie followed them out along with all the indoor servants. Burt looked from one of them to the next, his eyes moist. Every face was blank with indifference or scorn or mirth. It was humiliating. They were all there. They were all going to witness his punishment. "Powell!" cried the Earl. "Where are those shackles!?" The butler emerged last at a slow jog and hurried to his master's side. "Here they are sir." He had a pair of iron shackle cuffs on a chain in one hand and the Earl's bullwhip in the other. "Put them on him," said the Earl imperiously, with no clue of course that it was really his daughter he was ordering be locked up. I'm not his daughter anymore, thought Burt morosely. I'm just a servant. He can do anything that he wants to me now. Anything. Powell approached Burt and snapped, "Hold out your hands!" He did so. What else could he do? He'd done his best to resist when he'd been locked in the stocks. It had gotten him nowhere. He had no illusions now about his lack of power and control. He held out his wrists morosely and Powell attached the first cuff, tightening it a notch too far so that it cut into Burt's skin. Burt looked across at Hattie near the doorway. Her expression was riddled with mischief, close to open laughter. Beside her, the Countess looked down her nose at the scene as the second shackle was locked into place. Burt had thought his life was at its lowest point when he'd realised how trapped he was in this retainer's existence but it had descended even further. He was a criminal now. He had lost even the meagre blessings he had had. Harry appeared, walking up the drive, come to see what the commotion was about. He saw the position Burt was in and shook his head sadly. "Oh Burt, ye stupid idiot. What have you gone and done now?" "You!" cried the Earl to Harry. "Fetch me my horse! Then ready the coach! This blackguard is going to get his just deserts; but not here. Down in the village." Burt blanched. "I shall ride down with this miserable cur walking behind me." He addressed the Countess. "My dear... and Hattie. I would be grateful if you could follow down in the coach. The rest of you..." He turned to the servants. "I want everyone there. Close up the house and follow down on foot. Is that clear?" There were nods all round. Burt looked about him feeling increasingly desperate. He kept seeing himself as a woman, reaching down for the pendant from the waters of the river, thinking he'd found an exciting way to avoid a boring trip to his nan's house. Oh, how stupid he had been to risk all the luxuries of his former life over such a trivial thing! Harry hurried back up the drive with the Earl's stallion in tow. The Earl went to meet him, pulling on the rope that Powell had tied to the shackle chain. He climbed up onto his horse while Harry steadied it, then jerked on the rope, yanking Burt forward. Powell handed him the bullwhip in a tight coil. The Earl hung it on the saddle and then snapped the rein, pulling away. Burt was jerked after it, shambling in the wake of the horse, led by his shackles as the family and servants looked on. He had thought his life as a servant had been humiliating; that being the village idiot had been. He'd thought being locked in the stocks had crowned it all. But he hadn't known what was to come. The humiliation hadn't ended. It was only just beginning. And it was going to get far, far worse before it got any better! 4 The walk down to the village was awful. The Earl's horse went just a little faster than walking pace but too slow to run, and as a result, Burt would walk for a little before receiving a sharp jerk of his shackles and having to jog to catch up, followed by the slower pace and then by the jerk. The Earl didn't even look at him but Burt could tell he was fuming. Half way down to the village the coach pulled up behind them and followed, manned by Harry. The look Harry gave him was heart-breaking. The old man had been so hard on him since he'd become Burt, and the Burt memories stretched back with more of the same, but now he only had pity there and sorrow in his eyes. It should have made Burt feel better knowing that Harry cared after all but instead it made him feel far, far worse. Burt looked back at the Earl. "Please sir," he said. "Please let me go free. I'm sorry I went up there sir, I really am. Please sir, I'll do anything; just don't punish me no more. I'm sorry." The Earl didn't even react. He kept his face forward, his chin raised. Another sharp jerk on the shackles pulled at Burt painfully, making it perfectly clear the limitations of his situation instead. When they reached the village, people on the street saw Burt being led by the wrists and he immediately felt a swelling of the shame and embarrassment of his situation. He saw the whispers and the sneers, the laughter and the open jeering, but he could do nothing about it. All he could think about was how he wished he'd never remembered who he really was. When he had forgotten and really thought he'd always been Burt he'd found a kind of happiness. He was well-regarded for his triumph at the boxing match. He'd won back Mavis. He'd settled into a routine of sorts, living out the destiny he'd taken on. He wished he'd just stayed that way for the rest of his days - been happy as a brainless pauper. Why had he let himself push for more than that? It was going against nature. This life was his now as though it always had been. He wished he'd fully accepted it while there had still been time. But now it was too late. He was led into the square. A crowd of gawpers was gathering outside the Dog & Pony, whispering and chuckling at his expense. The fair was half dismantled now but what gypsies still remained stopped working on the clear-up and watched him. A beautiful gypsy girl with long dark curly hair pointed at his mournful face and laughed with her companion. He lowered his gaze, wishing he could somehow get out of this, but he was resigned to his fate now. The Earl climbed down from his horse and dragged Burt to the stocks - not to lock him into them this time: nothing so pleasant. He unshackled one of Burt's wrists and fixed his glare on him. "Off with your shirt!" "Sir?" "Take your shirt off now you miserable cur!" Burt did as he was told. The Earl ran the chain and empty shackle out through one sleeve of the shirt and dumped the garment on the floor. He looped the shackle chain through the right arm hole on the stocks then attached the loose cuff to Burt's sore wrist once more. With his boot and hand, he forced Burt down onto his knees so that his arms were raised in front of him, his back to the villagers. The coach had long since pulled up. Hattie, the countess and even old Harry had dismounted. The servants from the hall were approaching. A circle of crowd closed around the proceedings. There had been no announcement of what was going on but people could sense it. And the Earl wanted an audience. Burt craned his neck to look back into the people and saw Mavis push to the front. She looked into his eyes and he saw the same pitiful compassion that Harry had shown. The chuckles in the crowd had died away. This wasn't a laughing matter now. Everyone knew what was coming. The tension was creaking higher and higher; the shuffling expectancy. Burt mumbled some prayers, begging for aid and succour for what was to come but only the cold wind answered him, touching his sweat-cooled skin and drawing all heat out of it. "Take a look at this man!" called the Earl, satisfied that he had his audience now. "Look at him!" He paused. There was total silence. Even Hattie's hateful mirth was gone from her features. "He is a thief! And he will be punished as a thief!" Burt hung his head. He knew there was nothing he could say to persuade them that he hadn't been trying to take anything that wasn't already his - that he was really the Earl's daughter in disguise. His punishment might even be worse if he spoke out now - especially with such ridiculous notions. He might even be accused of witchcraft! "My anger knows no bounds to a pathetic creature such as this," cried the Earl. "I have taken him into my employ, given him work that a man could be proud of; a man's wage. But this was not good enough for him! He wanted more and so he tried to take it from his betters!" The Earl shook his head slowly. "Nobody steals from me. Nobody! And this man needs to be taught a lesson. You all need to be taught a lesson of what will happen to anyone who dares to cross me!" He walked to his horse and took down the bullwhip, unravelling it. Burt started to whimper. He was Lady Ann, not Burt. He was Lady Ann, not Burt. This shouldn't be happening to him. It shouldn't be happening! The Earl cracked the whip hard against the ground to make a nasty snapping sound. Burt flinched though it had yet to touch him. He caught Mavis's eye again. There were tears on her cheeks. "Do you have anything to say man?" called the Earl, moving closer to Burt. Burt shook his head. "Please sir, don't do this. Please, I'll do anything. I'm sorry. Please sir. I won't do nothing like it ever again. Please don't hurt me, I'm begging you." The Earl shook his hand forward, cracking the whip, and it lashed up Burt's back, breaking his skin. He gave a yelp of pain and alarm. "Please sir. Let me go. Please sir. I'll never steal again sir. I'm sorry." CRACK! The whip lashed him once more leaving a nasty red mark. Burt's eyes were watering. He was remembering a scene from his childhood as Ann, when the Earl had lifted him up into his arms, laughing. CRACK! Burt chewed his lip, lowering his head. CRACK! The whip fell again and again. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The Earl said nothing. Nor did the crowd. The only noise were the tiny sounds that Burt made in his throat with each strike; yelps of pain; and the snap of the whip as it flayed his back. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! His back was a crisscross of open slits already but the Earl didn't stop. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Burt sank down as low as he could, only the shackles keeping his head up. His face was wet with tears of agony. His back was pure white pain. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! This wasn't meant to be happening to him. He was supposed to be a lady. He was meant to be one of the quality. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! But he wasn't anymore. He was one of the dirty peasants now and he couldn't expect any better than this for his crimes. He was entirely in the Earl's power. 5 Richard carried Ann from the coach in his arms, up the steps and into Grandmamma's house, the darkness and sanctity of it closing round them. He carried her up to her bedroom and laid her on the bed then stepped back filled with concern as Gladys and Grandmamma set to work cleaning her up. A doctor was present and Richard withdrew to let them get to it. Ann lay still and almost unresponsive as the doctor examined her and attended to her bruises. Her entire body was spent and she was cried out. She no longer had the energy to move her limbs or even turn her head. Her eyes didn't so much as follow their movements as they worked to undo the awful things that had happened to her. Grandmamma stroked her head over and over again, whispering, "My poor little darling. My poor little darling." Ann felt safe at last, and warm; but she felt damaged, as though the things that had happened to her had broken her outer fa?ade of peace and calm. She was so thankful to be back amongst people who cared for her; who would protect her now from danger as best they could. But her confidence in that had been shaken rigid. She no longer felt as though she would ever truly be safe. She had been with a bodyguard in the park when she was taken. He hadn't defended her. She was never going to really be safe because she could not defend herself. Because she wasn't a man. She hadn't needed these luxuries when she'd been a man. She'd been tough and enduring. She'd had the hardened male will to protect her. She had been strong in a way she never could be in this body. And worst was the weakness of heart that had been exposed to her. Her cowardice and fright had left her feeling vulnerable and pathetic. She didn't feel safe anymore and felt like she never would again. Because she wasn't a man. She needed to be one again, to recapture that feeling of security she'd always possessed. She needed to get back to Griply as soon as possible. She needed to swap back with Burt. Let him be the weak-willed puny woman. She didn't want it anymore! She had to get out of this body now! 6 There was total quiet in Griply village square. The echos of the whip slashing across Burt's back had died away and no one moved or made a sound. The crowds gaped vacantly between Burt and the Earl. What had started as a jolly spectacle had become a very serious reminder of the precariousness of all their positions and then had become something even worse. Fifty lashes. The casual brutality of it was staggering and now as the Earl stepped away from Burt's crumpled form, swaggering round in a semi-circle to proudly look at his subjects, even he caught the reflection in their faces of how far he'd gone; even he looked back at the crisscrossing wounds all over Burt's back and understood the depth of it. The Countess had turned away and Hattie was weeping against her breast, her mother pressing her close. The Earl looked from his family to the house servants, to the men and women of Griply, his resolve faltering slightly. Then he looked at Burt. Burt hung by his arms and the shackles from the stock post but his body and head sagged as though he were dead. He had cried out and moaned as the first cracks of the whip fell until it became only irresolvable pain striking over and over with no time to respond and no energy left to do it anyway. His mind was a blank welter of agony. The Earl glared at him and then at his subjects again, at the sullen eyes staring back at him that turned instantly away in fear when he caught them. He opened his mouth to cry out a warning to any others who might cross him but no sound issued. He closed his lips again, the words unsaid. Mavis pushed through from the back of the crowd, a damp cloth in her hand. She wavered, looking at the Earl. He did not respond, merely looked back at her. She hurried across to Burt, heedless of any danger to herself. The Earl watched her movements but said nothing; did nothing. Crouching beside Burt, Mavis tenderly dabbed at his wounds, rousing him slightly with each wince of pain. The Countess took Hattie back to the coach without a glance at her husband. Needing no instruction, old Harry climbed into the driver's seat and slapped the reins, guiding the coach around and setting off back toward the hall. The Earl watched it depart, saw again the sullen looks of disapproval in the peasants watching him, then raised his voice loud, spitting out his words angrily. "This man entered my home without permission! He violated my daughter's bed chamber! He deserved the punishment he got here today!" No sound. No reaction from the crowd. "By my right as land owner of Griply valley, I have taken my punishment of him!" In the dead silence he marched across to Burt, pushing Mavis out of the way. Burt's eyes flashed open as the Earl grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head back. He could barely keep his thoughts coherent, they were so blinded by pain, but he felt the Earls' hand on his head, he saw his blazing eyes and heard the harsh whisper. "Have you learned your lesson my lad?" Burt nodded; no thought now in his mind except capitulating fully to his employer. All conception that he was Lady Ann was gone. There was only the pain and the Earl. "Yes sir," he muttered. "Please sir, yes. I'll never do it again. I swear to you. Please sir. Please. I'll do anything you say. Anything sir, please." The Earl got to his feet and looked round at the assembled crowd, slightly more alarmed now by the distaste he saw in their eyes at his actions. He had never seen such looks on his subjects' faces before and he didn't like it. It was a sign of the changing times perhaps but he wasn't about to let his control slip one inch. They needed a stronger show of exactly what he was capable of if they went against him. "This thief is unrepentant," he cried. He walked in a circle, glaring at them. "He thought he could take things that were mine; could shirk his duty when he was supposed to be working." The Earl pointed at Burt's hanging form. "He clearly needs a further lesson!" There were gasps and chatter from the assembled villagers. "Gaoler!" cried the Earl, singling the man out of the crowd. "Take this man and lock him up. Now!" The gaoler emerged from the throng. He was an ageing, haggard old man with a sneering face. "M'lord?" The Earl unlocked Burt's shackles and gave him a nasty kick, hurling his crumpled body to the floor. "Take him away. He's nothing but a criminal and by God I will treat him as such!" 7 Burt was unshackled from the stocks by the gaoler and immediately crumpled to the floor in agony. "Burt!" Mavis ran to him, clutching his arms and shoulders, trying to avoid the open wounds on his back. Tears were running down her cheeks. "Get back girl!" cried the Earl, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her clear, hurling her onto her back in the dirt. A gasp went up from the crowd; the tension in the square cranking up another notch. Mavis stared in alarm at the Earl. His face was like a gravestone. The gaoler chuckled to himself as he reshackled Burt's wrists and the Earl's attention went back to him, but Mavis got to her feet. With a defiant glare at the Earl, she returned to Burt, dabbing again at his back with her damp cloth. The Earl saw this and opened his mouth to speak but said nothing. Whispers went through the crowd. Everyone was watching. Burt could barely get his thoughts together. The impact of what had happened had wiped out any chance of coherence in his mind. There was only room in there for pure white shock. He could feel the gaoler's hands on him but couldn't make any sense of the sensations. No word-thoughts crossed his mind; the sensory flood had overwhelmed all of that. The gaoler stood upright and looked to the Earl for instructions. "Take him away!" cried the Earl. "Lock him up!" He looked out across the crowd of onlookers. "And let every one of you watching remember this: the punishment that I will mete out to any criminal!" He pointed at Burt. "This man is a thief! And he will be punished as a thief!" The gaoler yanked on the chain between Burt's shackles, pulling at his arms. The stable hand didn't move. The gaoler pulled again, almost jerking Burt onto his side. "Well help him then girl!" cried the Earl and Mavis jerked from fright, putting her shoulder under Burt's armpit, trying to help him up. "You!" shouted the Earl, "and you!" He pointed. "Get over here and get this thief to the village gaol!" The two men he pointed at loitered, unsure of themselves. "Hurry up you idiots or you'll bloody well be joining him!" They rushed over and got Burt upright then helped him along as the gaoler pulled at his chain. Almost too late to allow passage, the crowd pulled back, parting to let the miserable entourage pass along the front of the pub and down the street. No one spoke but they went on watching. The Earl stood proudly, his fists on his belt, sneering at the retreating figures. When they passed out of sight he let his eyes wander across the sullen faces of the villagers who now looked back at him. The Earl didn't like it. He felt uncomfortable, almost guilty, and that didn't sit well with him. It didn't sit well at all. It was his right to punish criminals on his land. What did he care about the feelings of a few commoners? That was inconsequential compared to the need for discipline. But the tension was palpable, the faces dark and troubled. He couldn't take the silence any longer. "Get back to your business!" he cried. "Go on! There's nothing more to see here! A criminal has been justly punished! There's nothing more to say on the matter!" He turned his back on them and strode back to his horse, climbed astride and rode away without a backward glance. 8 The pain was awful but as he was dragged through the streets of Griply, Burt started to regain his sense of what was going on. The agony across his back was something that had, once upon a time, been inconceivable to him. Less than four weeks ago he had been Lady Ann Neville - a beautiful and cultured heiress. The worst punishment he might have expected at that time was a mild scolding from his mother. This was entirely different from that. And it was far from over. The gaoler kept jerking on the chain binding his sore wrists. The two men helping had his arms and shoulders. The only thing that made it better was the glimpses he got of Mavis, following on with them, her eyes full of the most endearing concern Burt had ever seen. In his anguish he clung onto that. It was the only thing he had left to cling to. The gaoler led them through a narrow gap between two buildings and onto the back road. Burt's eyes were bleary but he saw the squat building lying ahead and his horror deepened. The gaol house. He jerked back, pulling on his shackle chain, digging his feet into the ground. "No! I ain't goin in there! Please!" The men supporting him almost lost their grip as Burt struggled, trying to break free; strength suddenly returning to his limbs in utter desperation. The gaoler yanked hard on the chain but Burt pulled back, ignoring the bite on his wrists. They couldn't put him in there; they just couldn't! He wasn't a common criminal! It was all such a horrible mistake! He'd only been trying to get back what was his! This wasn't meant to be happening! He was supposed to be Lady Ann! He knew he wasn't her no more; he knew he was only Burt and he always would be; but that made it worse. He was a good honest working man! He didn't deserve to be imprisoned! He didn't care about the pendant anymore or even returning to his old life. He just wanted to take back what he'd done that day. He wanted to go back to his job as a labourer - that was all he wanted. He didn't need to be one of the gentry. He just wanted his freedom. But the gaoler wrenched hard, putting all his weight into it and Burt toppled forward, almost losing his footing. "Cam on ye thieving cur!" snarled the gaoler. "The Earl's given 'is orders and you're gonna be locked up!" "No! Please! Let me go!" Mavis cried out, "Burt!" He fought to break free but the men held him fast, tightening their grip on him, forcing him forward, closer and closer to the gaol house. He couldn't be locked up! He couldn't! But there was nothing he could do to stop it! "Please!" he shouted. "Please!" But it was no good. The gaoler laughed at his desperation, yanking harder on his shackles, pushing ahead faster. He couldn't get away! His life was over. Every shred of goodness had gone from it. He'd lost his position. He'd been branded a thief. He was going to be thrown in gaol with no way to get out. He might rot there for years! And even if he was released it would be far too late. He would have no job and no money. He'd be vilified for his criminal past. He'd either starve to death or end up scraping a living in the worst and most dangerous jobs imaginable. And worse: he had ruined the original Burt's life beyond all measure or hope. For all he knew, Lady Ann was still planning on coming back to reclaim her body - to live up to their original agreement, even though there had been a delay. Now that would never - could never come to pass. He had ruined her old life. What would ever motivate her to take it back? She wouldn't! Even if she came back planning to switch he had ruined all chance of that forever! They reached the front steps of the gaol house and Burt fought one last time with all his fury to get free, but the gaoler and men were ready for it. They held him fast, pulling his squirming form through the door and inside. "This way!" cried the Gaoler, leading them into the back of the building where two cells stood side by side. Burt saw where they were leading and gaped in terror, fighting all the more to get free, but it was impossible. They reached the open cell and hurled him inside. He fell to the floor in the centre of the narrow space, cracking his knees painfully and sending a fresh jolt of agony though his back. He scrabbled round and up, trying to get out while there was still chance but he was far too slow. The gaoler slammed the cell door shut with a sneer and a chuckle and Burt grabbed hold of the bars as the key clicked round in the lock. "Please," he moaned, "I'm beggin ye. Let me out of ere. I'll do anythin!" "Not likely," laughed the gaoler. "You're in there for keeps 'Arper! For months at least - depending on what the Earl says - maybe longer. You better start getting used to it." He leered cruelly. "You're nothing but a common criminal now and this is the punishment you deserve." 9 Hundreds of miles to the south, Lady Ann lay awake within the soft covers of her bed, Grandmamma sleeping nearby in a chair with a blanket over her legs. She stared out the window at the night sky, into the endless blackness of space, reliving the imprisonment she had suffered: the feel of the gag in her mouth, the binding round her wrists; the clothes torn from her; the rough hands of the tall man; the suggestive gleam in his eye as he closed in to take advantage of her. She shuddered and pressed her eyes closed, pulling the covers up around her face. It had been awful. Simply awful! In the darkness under the blankets the memories returned but now they were glaring - the feelings associated with them more potent. Ann curled into a tighter ball within her blanket cocoon, wishing this had never happened to her: this violation. But hidden there, weeping into her hands, the knowledge still burned bright of her intentions. It had not faltered once since she'd been freed from that terrible bondage. She was going to go back to Griply as soon as she could and she was going to become a man again - there was no doubt in her mind about that. It didn't matter how bad it would be to go back to being Burt, she would let nothing deter her. She was going to be a man again and she was prepared to sacrifice anything to achieve that! Read the extra extended version of Lady Ann's Holiday available on Amazon For more of my stories, check out: http://transformation- stories.blogspot.co.uk/ For updates on releases, follow me on Twitter @emmafinnuk And read my transformation novels on Amazon or Kobo by searching for Emma Finn