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

Chapter Thirty One No Escape 1 Burt sat on the floor of his cell as morning came, slumped against the wall at an angle so that he wasn't putting pressure on his back where the Earl's whip had flayed his skin. One knee was raised, his arm propped on it, covering his eyes. He had cried in the night, feeling even more deeply ashamed because of it, but the tears had run out now. His eyes were red raw. His throat felt swollen. When he'd been locked in the stocks it had taken time for him to fully realise the truth behind his predicament. Not now. He had long since accepted his role in the Griply hierarchy. He didn't struggle against his identity anymore. He knew he was only Burt Harper. He knew he was nothing but a criminal now. When he'd been trapped in the life of a stable hand, it had seemed untenable. When Jeb had been given his responsibilities and he'd been demoted to little more than a menial labourer, there hadn't seemed to be any further he could fall. He had been wrong. He continued to be wrong. It seemed, in this living nightmare, that there was always lower to sink - some new awful mistake that could drag him further into ignominy and humiliation. A racket came from the front of the gaol house. Burt could barely raise his head to look, his strength had been so terribly sapped by this ordeal. The gaoler was wrestling with a buxom peasant woman with long, tangled blond hair, dragging her toward the cells. She had tatty clothes that showed even more flesh than Mavis's usual attire. A Burt-memory scratched his mind of who she was but he couldn't recall her name. The local whore from up the valley. "Bessie, ye stupid tart!" snapped the gaoler. "Stop struggling! You ain't getting free!" "Let me go! I ain't guilty a nothin! Let me go!" He forced her along, grunting with the effort. She was only a woman but that hadn't limited her stamina. She fought like an animal but still barely slowed the gaoler. He forced her into the cell beside Burt's and locked her in. "That'll learn ya Bessie," he said. "You'll think twice before causing a disturbance again, won't ye?" "Ah, get thee gone!" she snapped back at him. Burt covered his face. This shouldn't have been happening to him. He shouldn't have been here. He should have been free. He was furious at himself - at the choices he'd made that had brought him here. He was angry that he'd been such a spoiled witch of a woman who appreciated none of her blessings. He hated the fact that he'd found the pendant, and worse, had been foolish and arrogant enough to think he could control the swap - had given up all right to privilege and power. But far more than these, he was angry that he had risked his position by going into the hall to fetch the necklace when he had no right to do so. He was angry that he had dared to break one of the most sacrosanct rules there was for a of his lowborn man. He should have accepted who he was now - just been happy with his lot in life. He wasn't Lady Ann no more. He never would be. Why couldn't he have just been happy with that and gone on doing his duty as a servant? Why had he thrown away a good labouring job and a future as groundsman for that impossible dream? He had no right to violate the bed chamber of one of his betters. He had no right to try and take a pendant wot didn't belong to him. That pendant belonged to Lady Ann. He wasn't fit to clean her shoes. She was infinitely better than the likes of him. He was nothing next to that beautiful cultured lady. Oh why couldn't he just have accepted that and gone on being a servant for the rest of his days!? 2 Lady Ann had not changed her mind by morning. She was still going to become a man again as soon as she could. She sat quietly by herself in the morning room on an armchair, blankets tucked around her, an undisturbed tray of breakfast things nearby. She imagined what it would be like to journey back to Yorkshire; to take Burt aside as soon as she got the chance; to withdraw the pendant and place it around her neck. She imagined allowing the big muscular man to enfold her in his arms, knowing that in moments it would be her taking on that strength and power once more. It didn't matter to her about the drop in status she would reclaim, or the loss of intelligence and breeding. All that mattered to her was that she feel safe and secure once more. The kidnapping had torn that security away from her forever. She could never feel it as long as she was confined to this body. Becoming Burt again was her only escape. Some movement outside the window caught her eye. Richard dragged Thornton, the servant boy who had accompanied her in the park on the day of the abduction, out into view and threw him to the floor. Ann sat up slightly to see what was happening. Thornton was saying something, his hands half raised in pre-emptive defence. Richard shouted back at him, his words audible as sound but not quite discernible through the glass. He thrust his pointing hand out again and again, shouting furiously down at the servant. Then he revealed the riding crop in his other hand. Thornton spoke more, obviously begging for mercy, but Richard didn't even respond. He started whipping Thornton's arms and face, his shoulders, the back of his head. Thornton went down into a ball but Richard didn't stop. He bent over the boy, striking him over and over and over again. Ann watched the entire thing, unmoving from her chair and only turning away from it when she heard movement at the door. "Are you alright m'lady?" It was Gladys, her eyes lowered, her hands clasped neatly at her waist. "Can I get you anything?" Ann didn't reply at first, and then she said, "No Gladys. Thank you." Gladys dipped her head and curtseyed. "Very good m'lady. Would you like me to remove your breakfast things?" Ann looked down at the tray and then nodded haltingly. "Yes. Clear it away." "Of course miss." Gladys fussed in and gathered up the tray, all deference and humility, then withdrew, curtseying again. Ann watched her leave then turned back to the window. Thornton was gingerly touching the cuts on his hands and face as Richard glared down at him, then with a snarl, Richard whipped him again as hard as he could and marched away. Ann closed her eyes. Become Burt again. Become a man. Become a servant. That was all she wanted now. She was sure of that. But she thought of Thornton, and she thought of Gladys's fawning servility and just for a moment she questioned that resolve. 3 It should have made him feel better, but seeing Mavis come to visit him in the gaol made Burt feel far, far worse. She appeared in the doorway of the gaol house and through the bars and across the open space, their eyes met. A part of him quickened to see her, yearning for some affection and caring. He longed to touch her; for her to hold him; but a flap of dismal understanding fell over him instantly. She couldn't hold him. The bars would prevent that if the gaoler himself didn't. And her presence only underscored how pitifully low he'd now tumbled. Mavis was the barkeep's daughter, little more than a slag and sometime prostitute, but she was unfathomably superior to him now. She was a peasant with no prospects or potential, education or breeding, but she was free. She was a free woman. He was a criminal. All the freedom he'd had was gone. He hated being locked up. He hated it. But what could he expect now? No better certainly. He knew he'd done wrong. He accepted that. He had to put his former life out of his mind now and submit to his punishment. He was a prisoner - a thief. That was what he was and nothing more. The sooner he accepted his station, the sooner he might gain some level of acceptance. Mavis started to approach. "Where you goin missy?" asked the gaoler, emerging from the side room and spitting on the table. "To see Burt," stammered Mavis uncertainly. "Oh, aye?" said the gaoler. Mavis nodded. "Well you can get thee gone," said the gaoler. "This ain't a house of pleasure like yon pub. You can't tout your wares ere like I seen you doin down there. That filthy creature in the cell ain't a man no more. He's a convict. He don't get visits from his lady friend whenever he wants. He's being punished. He's a crook. He ain't getting a look at no woman while he's in ere as long as I got somethin to say about it." Burt sat forward, wishing he had the courage to intercede. But what could he say? The gaoler was right. "I just wanna see im for a second," said Mavis. "Aye," replied the gaoler. "But you ain't been listenin. If you had you'd know that a mingy old slag like you ain't getting any further in ere than that." "You can't talk to me like that." The gaoler approached her, leering. "I can talk to a whore anyway I damn well please." "Ey!" shouted Burt, scrambling up. The gaoler looked back at him. Burt grabbed the bars. "You don't talk to a lady in that way!" The gaoler pointed back at her with his thumb. "She ain't no lady, prisoner; same way as you ain't human no more. She's nothing but a slag and a whore." "You shut your mouth!" cried Burt. The gaoler lowered his head. When he raised it again he was grinning. He walked slowly across to the bars of Burt's cell. "You talkin back to me prisoner?" Burt lowered his voice, suddenly unsure of himself again. "You shouldn't talk that way to her." "Burt; it's okay," said Mavis. "No it ain't," he said. "What was that?" asked the gaoler, cocking his ear. "I didn't hear you. You say you wanted to see the Earl? Is that what you said?" Burt shut his mouth, glaring back at the old man. "That's what it sounded like you was sayin," said the gaoler. "And I'm sure the old gaffer wouldn't mind runnin down ere to ave a chat with ye. I wager he'd love to hear what you've got to say, prisoner. Is that what you want?" Burt stared back at him coldly. "Eh? I can't hear you prisoner. Speak up. Do you want me to fetch the Earl down ere to hear what you've got to say?" Burt shook his head slowly. "What's that?" "No," mumbled Burt. "I can't hear you." "No sir. I'm sorry sir." The gaoler grinned and gave a loud hacking chuckle. "No sir. That's right. And if I want to call that whore a whore then I chuffing well will. Eh?" Burt hung his head. The gaoler cackled and looked back at Mavis. "You better run along now whore. This stallion o'yours is well and truly broken. He ain't no use to you no more." Mavis looked at Burt, her eyes brimming with tears, but Burt didn't lift his head to return her gaze. 4 Ann loitered in the shadows in the corner of the room, waiting for the Earl to come to the telephone. She thought about how it would feel to have him as her employer again instead of her "father." She imagined slipping into that role as being akin to being enfolded in a comforting blanket: to have the precise boundaries of her life defined rigidly by others; to be protected in a cocoon of rules and instructions. She would know exactly what she had to do and would twirl round day after day on the same safe stretch of track, from the hayloft to the stables, to the pub, to the hayloft. All the uncertainty would be removed. There would be no more peril. She would never leave Griply Valley again. There was a rattle at the other end of the line and the Earl's deep voice came through the earpiece. "Ann. Is that you?" She hesitated, wondering how many more times she would be asked that and it remain true. "Yes father. It's me." "Everything still going to plan for the wedding I presume? Your grandmother hasn't entirely taken over the preparations I trust?" She smiled quietly. "No father. Not yet. In fact..." "Yes?" "I was planning to come home. As soon as tomorrow, or the next day." "Ah, good. Yes. Your mother will be pleased. We were all... very concerned during your abduction. Very pleased to hear your voice last night. How are you holding up?" "Well, thank you. But I feel a need to get out of the city." "Of course." There was a long uncomfortable pause as the stuffy old man floundered for the correct words. "We've had some action of our own in the last few days," he said. "Oh?" "That filthy stable hand..." Ann's brow creased. "Burt?" "I don't know the devil's name, but he was found inside the house, in your own bed chamber, trying to steal some jewellery." Ann's eyes widened then narrowed. "Course we locked the blackguard up." "Oh no." "He deserved far worse. Got fifty lashes of the whip for his trouble and he'll get more if he looks at me the wrong way when I see him." Ann's mind was spinning. Burt must have been trying to get the pendant. But what did this mean for her plans? Did it ruin everything? She didn't know if she could stand the thought of being trapped as a weak and defenceless woman; but to go back to that life branded a thief and locked up...? Was that a price she was willing to pay? "I wonder..." said Ann. "Yes?" "Just that... He has been a loyal servant. And if he was caught before any crime was committed then no harm was done." "No harm done? He rifled through your undergarments! Harriet caught him red-handed." "I see. But... he's only a simpleton. He's too much the idiot to understand what he's done is wrong. He's a dog - nothing more. Now that he's been punished he won't do it again... And he takes awfully good care of my horse." The Earl chuckled. "You and your horse Ann. That's what this is about, isn't it? You just want to keep him working on your filly." Ann allowed herself a little giggle, knowing her father would hear. "You know me too well I think. But I would rather you released him." There was silence for a moment. "Well. We'll have to see. But I don't think so Ann. That impudent baboon has to be punished to the limit of my ability or else all the peasants will get ideas that I'm lenient on thievery." He thought a moment longer. "No Ann. No, I'm sorry. I won't show mercy to a servant of mine caught stealing in my own home. Simpleton or not, that craven fool if going to spend a long time behind bars and that's final." 5 Burt lay on the hard narrow bed in his cell trying to ignore the jeering whisper of the gaoler. The old man sat on a chair just the other side of the bars and as he hissed on with his monologue he kept breaking into rough cackles, as though the words he was saying were hilarious. "They're gonna take you out of here and put you on trial tomorrow," he said. "The Earl's sent for the magistrate; paid extra to have him come tout suite." He chuckled. "He'll preside over your trial and most likely sentence you to prison." Burt covered his face with his arm. "It'll be Wakefield you get sent to I'd have thought. Nasty place. Really nasty place. But more than appropriate to a hardened criminal like yerself." He laughed again but degenerated into a long series of hacking coughs. When he recovered he went on, grinning from ear to ear. "I've heard the Earl talking. He's going to push for the maximum sentence; did you know that? Do you know how long that is?" Burt screwed his eyes shut. "Seven years. Seven long years!" It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible that his life had come to this. "And if you listen to the whispers of the servants up at the hall about you propositioning Lady Harriet then I wouldn't put it past him to press for an attempted rape conviction. That's could be another five or ten years, depending on the mood of the magistrate, especially when involving a titled lady." Burt moaned. "Locked away with murderers and rapists, burglars and pickpockets - no women; no niceties; no comforts; no freedom. You're going to come out of there a changed man. You'll either be bitter and broken; stooped and useless, or else associating with all that scum: you're gonna come out just like all the rest - a hardened criminal." He cackled again. "And even if neither one of those happens you'll never get honest work again. You'll be branded a convict; a thief. No one will trust you to do an honest day's work. You'll have to live a life of destitution or a life of crime. Either way you'll be dead or back in the lock-up within a year." He tapped on the bars with his stick. "You hear me in their prisoner? Your life is over! You're going to prison and it'll ruin ye, one way or another; you mark my words." He got up, laughing, and walked away to find his brandy bottle. Burt didn't move - didn't react. He lay in terror, guilt and regret. Why, oh why, had he gone into the manor? Why hadn't just followed his orders and lived up to his man's responsibility? He was going to lose everything he had and there was nothing he could do. When he was put on trial they would ask him if he had gone into the manor; if he had rifled through her ladyship's things; if he had tried to take the pendant; if he had propositioned Lady Harriet. What could he do but answer yes? He had done all those things and he had known it was wrong. The pendant didn't belong to him. It belonged to Lady Ann. He wasn't Lady Ann; he was Burt Harper. He was a thief! He was a thief and he deserved to be punished! He would be condemned by his own words. What could he do but admit to his crime. It wasn't right to lie to his betters and he'd been caught in the act anyway. With the Earl pushing for it he was going down for the maximum sentence, just as the gaoler had said. Seven years. Or more! He covered his face with his hands. He had had such a good life as a labourer, being told exactly what to do, getting a roof over his head in the hay barn, being around the horses, basking in the glow of the upper classes. He wished he could just go back to that - to being a good honest salt-of-the-earth working man. All he wanted was to be a servant at the hall; following orders, digging ditches, shovelling horse shit. He knew now that old Harry was a decent man. He yearned to be able to go back in time and not disrespect him; just do exactly what he was told the second he was told it. That was all he wanted. He missed Mavis. She was the best woman a man like him could hope for - a right bewer. He would have given anything to be back in her arms; to kiss her and shag her. He missed his mates in the Dog & Pony - he missed every aspect of his life. Lying there in his cell he vowed that if he ever got the chance to have that life back he would cling onto it for all he was worth. He wouldn't long for a silly life as a cultured woman - that was forever out of his reach. No. He'd be the best servant he could be - the hardest working and most servile man who'd ever been employed at Griply Hall. If only he could get out of this cell he'd never try to escape his servant's life again! 6 "I have good news Ann," said Richard as she entered. He was sitting at her late grandfather's desk, working on some papers. Ann was cold, still shaken from her experiences. The room would have been warm enough but she still felt chilled in her shawl. "Oh? What is it?" "We know the whole story now and the blackguards responsible for your abduction will all be going to prison." "Thank goodness." Ann sat on the edge of the window seat. "You may be surprised to learn the true culprit behind it all," said Richard, "the originator of the plan." "Who?" He smiled grimly. "The maid that you had fired from your grandmother's employ." "Betty? No, really?" Richard nodded. "She was no mastermind of course but the man who led the kidnapping ring was her beau." "That's horrifying." "She told him about you and they kept watch until they knew your movements. They knew of... our acquaintance and thought they could profit from it." He lit a cigarette. "They'll all stay locked up of course and I'm going to push for hanging on the ring leader." Ann turned the corner of her mouth up, so grateful for Richard's strength and protection. She went to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Richard. I can't thank you enough for finding me; for getting me out of that place." He patted her hand. "You're my fianc?e." "Kiss me," she said, passion flowing through her breast suddenly. "Richard, I need you so much. Please, kiss me.? She tried to turn him in his chair to face her but he didn?t let himself be turned. Instead he gave her a brief peck on the cheek. ?I?m working darling. See.? ?Oh. Alright. Sorry,? replied Ann, disappointed. Richard kept eye contact and allowed her a curt smile. ?I did explain the importance of my work to you Ann dear. I know you?ve been through a terrible ordeal but you?ve made it clear you want us to travel to Griply tomorrow. I can?t very well leave if this work isn?t done.? ?Yes. Of course. You?re right. I?m sorry.? She stepped back from the desk. Richard sighed. ?Don?t pout Ann. It isn?t becoming of a lady. As my wife you will have a responsibility to the household and at the business dinners we will throw. My responsibility is to conduct the work that keeps the business going. It?s nothing you would understand but I must ask you to keep yourself amused while I do it. I am in the middle of organising the construction of two new factories in Nockton Vale at the moment and it?s demanding the bulk of my efforts. I wasted far too much time searching for you. Obviously I didn?t mind, but if you wish me to spare even longer visiting your parents then you will need to give me the chance to get on with this. Is that clear?? ?Yes,? said Ann, too quietly to be heard. She cleared her throat. ?Yes.? He put his head down, concentrating again, ignoring her and she watched him, returning to the window seat. She thought about the life she had envisioned with Richard, the happiness she had felt looking forward to their love together. She wondered what that would really be like with this formal and rather distant gentleman. She thought about her desperate craving to become a man again. She remembered the beating the servant had received the day before; the servility of Gladys and the other lower orders she came into contact with. All she wanted was this man?s protection and love. If he kissed her now she might relent on her desire to become Burt again. That was all she needed; to keep her in this life. She just needed to be loved. She needed to feel passion and desire. Outside, through the window, the stable hand was closing up the stable doors, locking the horses in for the night. Ann watched him silently for a while ? his fine masculine figure; his strong arms ? then she turned back to look at Richard, hard at work on his papers. It seemed like a hundred years ago when she had bedded Mavis every night, living in an endless whirl of lewd abandon. Becoming Lady Ann had been such an incredible escape from her life of poverty and hard work ? from being an idiot uncultured servant ? but? there were things that she missed; things she wished she could still have. If only she could have everything: the passion and the wealth; the intelligence and the security. Richard looked up at her sternly and in a testy voice said, ?Do you mind Ann. I?m trying to work and your presence is making it impossible. When we?re married you?ll see far less of me than this. I suggest you start getting used to that now.? Ann smiled curtly and stood. She had one more look at the stable hand outside then went to the door, wondering briefly if there wasn?t a way she could have this wealth and beauty but still get some passion in her life. She wondered if she dared do what she was considering. 7 Burt paced to one side of his cell then turned and paced to the other, exploring the limits of his freedom, the enclosure trapping him into this new and pitiful existence. He wondered how much further he could fall than this or whether this was the bottom. But he remembered the gaoler?s words. Prison was going to be far worse, and after that, surely the stigma of his criminal past would blight him for the rest of his days. It seemed that his plummet was far from over. And there was always hell itself, waiting for him at the end. He stopped, turning, startled when he heard a man?s voice from outside. He gripped his bars then withdrew; sat on the bed and then quickly stood. He clasped his hands at his waist then put them behind his back; let them fall to his sides. He didn?t know what was best. And then it was too late anyway because the Earl entered, speaking with the gaoler. Burt watched with trepidation, becoming more and more tense as their conversation continued, then his employer broke off and approached the bars, glaring coldly into his face. He stopped outside the cell and did nothing but glare. Burt shuffled, uncomfortable; anxious; miserable. ?Well?? said the Earl. ?? M?lord?? ?What have you got to say for yourself now?? Burt gaped back at him, then quickly blurted a stream of servility. ?I?m sorry sir. I?m so sorry. I shouldn?t have dared to go inside the ?all. It was wrong of me. I ain?t good enough for that. I?m ashamed of meself for going into her ladyship?s room. There?s nothin I could say or do to make up for that. And I shouldn?t have gone through her things. I shouldn?t have taken that pendant. I?m sorry sir. I?m so sorry. I?ll do anything to make it right. I?ll work for free. I?ll work twice as ?ard. I?ll do anything sir. Please. Please don?t send me to prison sir. Please sir, I?m begging you. Please. I?ll do anything.? He stopped, panting, eyes red and moist, looking up into the indifferent glare of the older man. The Earl said nothing. He folded his arms. ?I shouldn?t have done it sir,? whimpered Burt. ?You was right to whip me. I deserved it. I deserve more. I?d gladly take another fifty lashes if you would take me back at the ?all sir, if you could let me go free. Please sir, I?m beggin ye. Whip me again, as much as you like, but please let me work for you doin me labourin. I?ll work harder than I ever ?ave before sir. I?ll shovel the ?orse dung with me bare ?ands. I?ll do anything you say. I?ll never talk back to nobody. I?ll follow me orders without complaint. Just don?t send me to prison sir. Please m?lord. Let me be your stable hand again.? There was a further silence. Burt hung his head in shame. He couldn?t bear to look up at his master anymore. Another full minute passed and then finally, the Earl said, ?You pitiful swine? How dare you debase yourself before me, begging for favours? How? dare you!? Burt quailed. ?I spoke to my daughter on the telephone this afternoon.? Lady Ann? Burt?s eyes widened. ?She actually thought I should let you off after your despicable behaviour. She thought you should be set free ? your job reinstated? you: a dirty thief!? The Earl stepped up to the bars, his hands clasped behind his back. ?She?s coming back tomorrow.? Burt?s eyes widened still further. ?She might even be in time to see you stand before the magistrate and receive your sentence.? ?Please m?lord,? mumbled Burt. ?Shut up you impudent cur!? Burt lowered his head, cowed; more deeply ashamed and helpless than he?d ever felt. ?You will be tried and sentenced and then you will go to prison. I?ll see to that.? The Earl turned his back and walked toward the door. ?You?ll receive the maximum penalty ? the severest punishment ? the longest possible term of imprisonment.? He stopped in the doorway and looked back. ?By God, this will send a message to every peasant who thinks he has the right to cross me! Nobody breaks the law in Griply Valley! Nobody goes against their Earl without living to regret it!? 8 Ann put her head round the door of the drawing room where Grandmamma was seated reading a book. ?I feel a little under the weather,? she said. ?I think I?ll go to my room and rest.? ?Alright dear,? said Grandmamma. ?You?ve been through such a lot. Rest is what you need and then you?ll feel right as rain.? They shared a smile and then Ann closed the door, feeling awful that she was lying to the elderly lady. She walked to the back door, avoiding the servants, and paused on the threshold, checking that nobody was going to see where she was going. No one was about so she crept out and closed the door silently behind her. It was fully dark now outside. She was sure she wouldn?t be seen. The light was on in the study where Richard was working. She spied him there, his head down, and rather than weakening her resolution, it spurred her on. She went to the side entrance of the stable building and, only hesitating for a moment, opened the door. There was a worn narrow wooden stair inside leading up to the first floor. No light shone in there. Electricity didn?t reach as far as the outbuilding. She felt nervous ? more nervous than she?d felt in a long time ? but one glance back through the study window hardened her resolve still further. Just a few days earlier she had been so happy, so sure of what she wanted. Now her heart was a welter of confusion. She wasn?t sure anymore of anything, but she knew she wanted what was up those stairs. She put her foot on the first step and closed the little wooden door behind her, then she started to climb. Each footstep higher tightened the tension in her and raised the exhilaration. She had wanted to do this for well over a week now but she hadn?t had the? the balls. She?d let herself be molded into a perfect doll, but there was that part of her that lived for passion. It had been a part of her when she was Burt and the original Ann had had it too. That same characteristic coming together from those two different sources intermingled in her, bubbling away, nudging her toward this irresistibly. She knew it was wrong ? that it could ruin everything ? but so had the original Ann known deep down when she?d put the pendant round her neck that first time. Part of who she was desired risk ? wanted to be overcome by eroticism ? wanted a dirty man to possess her. She pushed back the door at the top of the stair. The stable hand was sitting on the edge of his narrow bed, untying his boots. His shirt was off and Ann?s eyes fell on his taut muscular torso, the contours accentuated in the flickering candlelight. His hair was tousled; his eyes wide with bewilderment as he stared back at her. ?M?lady?? He froze briefly, eyes flicking down her body then back up, then he scrabbled for his shirt, desperate to cover up. ?No,? said Ann. ?Don?t.? He paused, clutching his shirt. ?M?lady?? ?Don?t put that back on? I want to see you.? He gaped back at her, unsure, thrown off-balance; but he didn?t put the shirt on. He stood up instead, looked plainly at her and then dropped the shirt on the bed. Ann stepped further into the room, eyeing his muscular chest and stomach; his broad shoulders. The man looked uncomfortable but there were instincts at an animal level in action here. He knew why she had come. He needed no explanation and she could see the light of attraction in his eyes. She?d seen it in the upstairs corridor a week earlier. She was only about eight feet away from him now. He stepped to one side, widening his stance, standing in such a strong and masculine pose she felt her heart flutter. For a second she thought of Richard, wishing that he would show this kind of uncomplicated virility, but he had his work and she was starting to think that he would never show her the simple maleness that exuded from every pore of this servant?s body. The stable hand was much taller than her. This close she could feel it: the silent Neanderthal potential to have her ? to dominate her physically. But this wasn?t like the domination of her kidnapper. This was a vulnerability she had freely given. She wanted this man. No. She wanted a man and Richard would not give her what she needed. And she did need this. She needed the closeness and the belonging. She needed to be taken up by this beastly lower class peasant and made to feel like a woman as she never had before, as she?d yearned to be. The stable hand stepped closer to her. She moved further in. He glanced down at himself and unbuckled his belt. He let his trousers fall over his feet, his muscular thighs revealed. Ann softened, losing herself in the moment. She wanted this man so much. She looked down at his body, at the thatch of pubic hair, at the extended penis, reaching up toward his belly button, only briefly feeling disappointment that, though large, it wasn?t in the league of her former cock. Then all thought of that and all thought in general left her mind. He was right there, only a footstep away and then he was directly in front of her. She looked up into the stable hand?s face; into his eyes; and he looked down into hers. His fingers rose to her cheek, rough and huge. He traced her cheek bone down to her chin then used his thumb and forefinger to lift her face. ?Kiss me,? she whispered. He lowered his face, pushing his lips toward hers and Ann?s eyes closed, her senses melting into a misty haze. He paused, half an inch from her mouth and her eyes flickered open to meet his. She felt the union: the penetrating animalistic lust connecting all creatures of every species. His own eyes closed and he lowered his lips to hers. But she pulled away, startling herself. The stable hand?s eyes came open again, his forehead creasing into a frown. ?M?lady?? ?No,? she whispered. ?I can?t.? She shook her head. ?Miss?? ?No. I?m sorry. I can?t do this.? She backed away; put her hands over her mouth. ?Oh God, no; I can?t do it. I?m sorry.? She withdrew further, knocking up against an old trunk. The stable hand watched her pull back, unsure. He was naked but he didn?t cover himself, He didn?t move. Ann stared at him one last time; at his glorious masculine body; then she went to the door. ?I shouldn?t have come here,? she said, then she flew from the room and hurried as fast as she could down the stairs. 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