Another Worm Turns free porn video

ANOTHER WORM TURNS After five years at university and a further two in practice I'm a qualified dentist but I haven't needed to work so didn't after I married last year . I don't know why I bothered in the first place, after all my family money, especially since my parents both died, has meant that I have no need to work for the rest of my life. What has this got to do with the story I'm relating here? Not a great deal, but a slightly relevant background. My name is, or rather was, Anthony Morris, and in my mid-twenties, was a couple of years younger when I married Beth. We chose a nice house to buy, five bedrooms, in its own grounds, in a gated fairly rural estate. Really much too large for the two of us, I was sold on the basement area, which included a fully automated two lane ten-pin bowling alley, an equipped gym and an air conditioned wine cellar. Showers, loo and changing facilities, even a locker room were fitted out down on the same level. The whole house, pool and surrounds were also covered by state of the art security systems, but having read about this on the very first documentation, I really thought this was overkill, so I made no further enquiries about it. Those first few months together, my wife and I doted on each other. We had a winter sun holiday in the Seychelles followed by a winter sports vacation in the French Alps. Having said that, we spent so much time of those trips in bed, they were really a waste of money, but I didn't begrudge spending on things my bride wanted, after all she had signed a pre-nuptial agreement. I confess I would not have insisted, but the trustees of various family funds demanded it. After leading such an indolent life during this time, Beth vowed to take more exercise in our gym and employed a personal trainer, a very fit young man, for a couple of hours each weekday morning. She tried to coerce me into joining her, but I preferred to spend my time web surfing or overseeing our financial affairs. The first hint I had that anything unusual was happening was one night when we went to bed and my wife asked me to put my arms up in the air and close my eyes. The next thing was that I felt a light and wispy clothing item dropped over my head. My wife was grinning when I opened my eyes and handed a pair of panties to me. She was inviting me to wear one of her 'baby doll' nighties to bed. "Will you be the wife tonight? I know it's a bit quirky but I read about doing a swap in a story and I found myself getting turned on. It's lucky we're about the same size so it gave me the idea. You don't mind placating my little kink do you?" I have to confess that little 'Tony', abruptly decided that he didn't mind at all, in fact he raised his head and tented out the front of the panties, so I acquiesced. I don't know who was more surprised, Beth or me. Since our marriage, and for some time before, we had been fairly adventurous in our lovemaking, we'd even tried a little mild bondage, but nothing prepared me for my reaction to this nightie. Our lovemaking that night was refreshing and highly satisfactory for both of us. The next day I researched feminisation and transvestism sites, they lead to fictional stories, including forced feminisation, and found them quite a turn on. When Beth had finished her exercises and we sat down for a light lunch, I mentioned this to her, showing her the web sites but making it crystal clear that there was no way I would be interested in having anyone else involved, and under any circumstances our sex play would remain our secret. Under those conditions I wouldn't mind experimenting. She was delighted with this and said that she would read up that afternoon and either pop out to the shops or order some things on the internet. I didn't realise how quickly she could act. That night I again wore her nightdress to bed, but come the morning her whole demeanour changed. The first thing she had me do was to use a depilation cream to rid myself of all my body hair and have me shave, even though I usually shaved only every two or three days. Then she had me sit in front of her make up mirror, although she draped a towel over it so I couldn't see what she was doing to me. She had just started tidying up my bushy eyebrows when gate security advised her of a delivery which she went downstairs to sign for. She returned with various packages and boxes, placed them on the bed and spent a long time finishing my eyebrows and applying make up to my face. "You'll have to learn to do this yourself." She commented as she opened the first package, which turned out to be two boned corsets with long laces, one black, the other pink. Putting them aside for the moment, she opened two more boxes. From the first she took two very realistic breast forms, complete with nipples, lined the up on my chest, then applied glue and stuck them in place. Once the glue had set she noticed that I had become erect down below, so she got a handful of ice cubes from the bedside wine cooler (so we like cool Champagne in bed, OK?), it only took a minute with them wrapped round little Tony for him to shrink embarrassingly. She fitted a metal device round my balls that slotted into a curved tube that tiny Tony just about fitted into. When she pushed the two sections together they joined with a 'click'. "That will stop any awkward bulges," she told me. After those diversions she returned to the black corset and fitted it round my waist, covering me from only just above the metal device to half way up my new breasts. The effect was to push them up forming quite a realistic cleavage, but I didn't have time to comment about this before she started to tighten the laces. "Beth, it's too tight, I can't breath." "Don't be silly Georgette, if you couldn't breath you wouldn't be able to tell me." "What's with the 'Georgette'?" I asked her. "Well I can hardly call you Tony while you're dressed like this, can I?" By this time she had pulled my waist in so far that I thought I was being cut in two, and it was then I discovered the effect boning has in a corset. I couldn't bend enough to put stockings over my feet, so she had to do them for me. "When you put this on yourself, you'll have to remember to put your stockings, knickers and shoes on before you tighten the laces." I was informed. At this time she was called away, and a number of people entered the house and seemed to go down to the basement. I don't know how many there were but the footsteps seemed to go on for ages. "Nothing for you to worry about," she told me. "I'm preparing a surprise for you but they won't be coming up here so don't get anxious." When she had me stand up I discovered that the shoes she had placed on my feet had skyscraper heels and I nearly went base over apex. Not only that, the fasteners were locks, so I couldn't take them off until I could get the key. "Don't worry, you'll soon get used to them," she consoled me, and led me by the hand to her en-suite where again, she had covered the mirror over the hand basin. There she started to wash my long blond hair, then roughly towel dried it, placed it in rollers and dribbled a cold, foul smelling liquid onto it. When I asked her what she was doing, she told me that she was giving it a bit of curl. She speeded up the drying process by putting a sort of plastic hat completely over my hair and blowing warm air into it via her hair drier. While we were waiting, she touched up my make up and then fitted me with false nails, bright red and protruding half an inch from the ends of my fingers. Once this process was complete, she removed the drier and curlers, brushed out my hair, then, with a flourish she removed the cloth from the mirror. "That's... that's incredible!" I exclaimed. "My own mother wouldn't recognise me." It was true, from my now curly hair, down to my painted face, and further down to the tops of my 'breasts', I was all woman. "Now say that again, but breathy and just above a whisper." I did as she told me and even I could tell that it wasn't bad for a woman's voice, maybe an older woman who had smoked for years, making it a bit deeper, but pretty convincing. Still in just these new underclothes, she had me walking up and down the bedroom for ages, until I had to say that if I didn't stop my legs would collapse. Beth sat me on the bed, and with some sort of magnetic key, she released Tony from his now very cramped prison, to come out to play. Then play we did. Me still dressed as I was, all I had to do was lie on our bed for Beth to straddle me and do all the work. I managed three climaxes during the afternoon, but I lost count of Beth's. Then we slept. When I woke I realised it was early evening and quickly noted I was now back in my chastity device. I took a close look at it but couldn't work out how it was locked or, more importantly, unlocked. While I was sat on the bed Beth came back in, already dressed and amused that I had only just woken up. She fitted a three inch wide belt which just fitted round my corseted waist, shut it without it seeming to have any means of unlocking, pulled my chastised bits up between my legs and locked them by a strap to the back of the belt. My wife helped me pull on a pair of very frilly white panties, she called them 'rumba panties', then she held a short black satin dress open for me to step into it, zipping it up the back and fastening the zip with a tiny padlock. It had short, puffy sleeves, it's skirt being so short it barely covered the panties, and had masses of white net and satin petticoats built into it, making the skirt stand out almost horizontally. The whole effect was finished with a frilly satin half apron tied round my waist with a bow and a frilly parody of a cap pinned to my head but with black ribbons hanging down my back. When I saw myself in the mirror my mouth dropped open as all I could see was a very sexy French maid, with an obvious cleavage pushing up to show over the top of the dress. I couldn't see a trace of masculinity in me at all. "Redo your lipstick Georgette," my wife said, "and follow me downstairs to the kitchen." Once there she turned to me with a very serious face. "Georgette. Up to now this has been a fun game, now it is serious. You are now my maid and will cook, clean and deal with any personal needs I may have. Our, or should I say, my front, rear and garage doors, all the windows, have been fitted with detectors that react with your chastity belt. If you try to leave the house you will receive an electric shock which I am told is not only extremely painful, but would debilitate you so you can't proceed. Your first job is to move all your feminine things down to the basement where the gym changing room has been turned into your bedroom. You have a toilet and shower there together with chests of drawers, a wardrobe and vanity for doing your make up and you will find spare uniforms and other things in there already. Then you will collect some boxes that are in the bowling alley, place them by the front door, then fill them with all your male clothes and any other of your things from the bedroom, ready for them to be collected by a charity shop truck in the morning." At this point I started to say something but was cut off by a jolt to my privates which resulted in a very unmanly scream from me as I collapsed on the floor. "I didn't give you permission to speak, girl, but hopefully I will have no need to further demonstrate the consequence of not doing as you are told." As I staggered to my feet she continued. "You will address me as 'Madam' and refer to me to other people as Miss Evans, my maiden name. Any guests you will also address as 'madam' or 'sir' and you will serve any guests I may have as you would me, or you will suffer the consequences. When you do speak it must be with that sexy whisper, like a girl who smokes a lot." I wanted to point out my rule that our games wouldn't involve other people, but wary of her power and afraid that this was not now a game, I held my comment. "On Monday and Fridays you will be allowed a shower and change of shoes and corset. The battery belt round your waist will also be changed for a fully charged one but don't think of escape, I can assure you that I've thought the procedure out very carefully. Incidentally, talking about security, you cannot use, either for outgoing or incoming calls, on the telephone or internet without a device that you don't have, so you are totally incommunicado. As you walk into your bedroom the locks on your shoes and dress will undo, but if you attempt to leave the room without them being secured again the sensors will punish you automatically. This will mean that you can change your outer clothes, including your stockings, if required without bothering me. Now get on with what I've told you and then prepare dinner. I will have lunches and dinners in the dining room so you will need to lay the table for however many are dining. You will serve me, attend to any of my needs, but not eat until you have cleared up that room and the kitchen where you will eat. You are dismissed." Not knowing what to expect, I collected armfuls of the female accoutrements that were in our bedroom and the en-suite and took them to the basement. There I discovered what the workmen had been doing all day. The changing room was now a utilitarian although feminine bedroom with many more underclothes, uniforms, etc., of the type I had on. I was surprised that there was no handle on the inside of the door but a notice stuck to the re-enforcing metal on the inside said; 'Door will automatically be locked from eleven pm to six am unless overridden'. While the dinner was in the oven I laid the table for one, then found my wife relaxing with a drink in the sitting room. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes, Madam," I told her, feeling sick to my stomach. I had to stand behind her and off to one side while she ate the three courses, topping up her wine as required, suffering the pain of the high heels. "I forgot to say, girl," she wasn't even looking in my direction, "when you enter or leave a room where others are present you will curtsey each time, and curtsey each time you acknowledge an instruction. Naturally you won't enter a room with someone in it without knocking and given permission. Do you understand?" "Yes Madam," I curtseyed. That night, after I had cleaned and eaten, I was called up to our, I mean Madam's bedroom, firstly to help her undress, then to provide oral satisfaction to her. She managed three orgasms, I managed to become very frustrated. "May I ask you something Madam?" I took a chance on another zap. "No. You are dismissed. I will have breakfast in bed at eight thirty." With a very troubled mind I got into bed just before the eleven o'clock deadline. On the hour I heard a clunk of bolts locking me in for the night. When I served that breakfast to her, I took a chance and asked her if she slept well, I certainly hadn't. "Whether I slept or not is no business of a maid," she tersely replied. "I will not be here for lunch, but there will also be a guest of mine for dinner. You will serve aperitifs and hors d'oeuvres at seven thirty in the sitting room and we will dine at eight. It will be a three course meal plus cheeseboard and port. You will wear your pink uniform with matching shoes. Now clear the breakfast tray and return here to help me bathe and dress." I couldn't have been more shocked. My only consolation was that I was left alone all day, and so long as I didn't try to leave the house, in no danger of being zapped. I did test the telephone, but there was no dialling tone, and no connection for my computer. At just before seven I heard my wife's car pull into the garage. Shortly she came through the connecting door and, horrors, she was followed by a man who was taller that me even in my five inch heels. It was her personal trainer. He was solidly built with muscles in his arms as thick as my thighs and he was carrying two suitcases. "Take Mr Mathews cases up to my bedroom girl," my wife ordered, but it was as much as I could do to lift one just clear of the ground. He laughed and told her that it wasn't a little girl's job. He continued to carry them, following Beth upstairs while I was told to get them aperitifs early, place them in the sitting room then join them upstairs. Once I was there I was told to unpack the cases and use the empty spaces in drawers and wardrobes left after I cleared out my clothes. He was obviously my replacement. Because of the time I took doing that job, dinner wasn't served until ten past eight. My wife gave the impression that lateness was a grave fault on my part, and while I was ignored, they talked about it while they ate. Mathews told her not to waste battery power on punishing me, he would deal with it for her. Giving me the worry that I now faced an unknown action which I was fairly certain would be painful for me. After I served the cheese and port, Mathews went out the front door, returning a moment later with a handful of canes from the garden. Surely he wasn't going to beat me with them I wondered, people don't do that sort of thing in this day and age, do they? The answer wasn't delayed. I was ordered to stand at the end of the table, bend over and grip each of the sides as far up the length as I could reach. The brute pulled my panties down and off, then stuffed them into my mouth. The first blow left me screaming into my gag and shaking my head violently in the direction of my wife, pleading unsaid words to her to make him stop. Instead she started to roar with laughter. "What a big girl!" she exclaimed, laughing more as he struck me again and again. I guess it stopped when I past out, or did the cane break? The next thing I knew was her kicking me, telling me to get up and pouring water from the pitcher on the table onto my face. I could only slowly get to my feet, whereupon I was told to leave my panties where they were and start clearing up. They took their glasses and the remains of the port up to bed with them. I was told to join them once the table was cleared. I knocked on the bedroom door and was told to enter, but I averted my eyes when I saw them, naked on the bed, having violent and obviously passionate sex. "Look at us!" Beth screamed as she seemed to have a never ending orgasm. "Now take those panties out of your mouth so you can clean me up with your tongue." Once she regained her composure, and I had to lick the disgusting mess out of her puffy vagina. "Get me hard again girl," Thug demanded. So followed the even more unsavoury task of licking his penis until it started to swell again. They went for round two, while I felt the odd trickle of blood from my rear down my leg, I had to stand there watching them. After that I had to clean my wife again, but was then dismissed for the night. I had time to put the first load in the dishwasher before it was eleven and my curfew time. I didn't sleep well for the second night. I tried to sleep on my stomach but my falsies kept annoying me. Even the sides of my backside hurt, but in the end I sort of propped myself a bit towards my front and got a little sleep. My alarm went off at six, so I could bathe my wounds a second time and dress in time to finish cleaning the kitchen and have their breakfast upstairs by the requested time of eight thirty. As they finished eating The thug asked my wife; "What time is Georgette's appointment?" "At nine fifteen, but it only takes twenty minutes to get there." All I was told was to clean up the breakfast things before they came downstairs dressed and carrying some obvious bondage equipment. A wide leather belt was secured round my waist that had a shackle each side that were locked round my wrists, pinning my wrists to my side. By the time this was done I was shaking uncontrollably but that didn't slow them down at all because they then shackled my ankles to each end of a chain that was only about a foot long. To finish I was told to open my mouth and a gag was placed in it that they inflated so I couldn't make a sound, although when I passed the hall mirror my attention was drawn to my mouth. The gag, although fastened round my head, was nearly flat and an exact match for my face make up, including smiling red lips. No one would recognise my predicament from a distance. Beth fiddled with the remote for my chastity and told me I could now go into the garage and take a seat in the back of her car. I had no idea what they were planning, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't be something I was going to like. We only encountered light traffic so it was rather less that twenty minutes later we drove into the grounds of a building displaying a notice proclaiming it was 'The Hervey Clinic', but we bypassed the front entrance and drove to the rear where there was a slope leading down to an underground garage. There I was roughly pulled from the back of the car by the thug and guided through a wide double door. At a second door my wife pushed on a bell. After a rattle of being unlocked, the door was opened by two muscled men in white overalls. "This is Georgette for Doctor Hervey, we'll leave her with you." With that my wife and the thug turned back to her car and I was guided in by the men holding each of my arms. After walking twenty or thirty yards we arrived at a lift which I was surprised took us down to a further lower level to the smell of hospital and a corridor passed half a dozen doors before reaching one that we entered. The room was an operating theatre! At that point I lost it, began to struggle and made as much effort as possible to scream into the gag. Between them they unzipped and pulled down the top of my uniform, released the belt attached to my chastity, then loosened the corset enough to be able to slide it down me. They then easily lifted me up, placed me on the table in the centre of the room and secured me down with multiple leather straps. All I could move was my head about an inch from side to side. I lay there for what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than fifteen or twenty minutes, when a fat man wearing surgical scrubs entered with what I took to be a male nurse. "Ah, Georgette, you're going to love the result of this little procedure, my dear." I desperately shook my head and again tried to make a noise. "A little excited, aren't you?" he remarked. "I must say that your wife has really done a number on you, hasn't she. Normally I wouldn't agree to doing this, but I've reviewed her security and I'm confident that you aren't going to complain. Who knows you might even enjoy your new station. Now, my dear, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you lie still and let me do my work under a local anesthetic or you can struggle away without anything to deaden the pain and I will just have to keep cutting you until I hit the right spot. Now, which is it to be?" Realising that whatever I couldn't stop what was going to happen, I forced myself to stop struggling and lie still. "Very sensible my dear." Was all he said, took up a hypodermic and started injecting me across my chest. After that I was aware of his movements but I couldn't see what was going on and felt no pain. When, I presume, he was finished, he told me that I could now have a little sleep and inject something into my shoulder. The next I knew I woke as I was being helped off the table by the two orderlies who had put me there. I was muddle headed and it took me a while to work out what was happening and that my clothing was all back in place. Then I realised that my chest felt numb and memories flooded back, but I still couldn't work out what they had done to me. It was only at that point I noticed that my falsies seemed bigger than before and I guessed I had been given implants. My wife and the thug were sat in a small waiting room where I was delivered back to them. In another twenty minutes we were back in my house and the whole thing seemed to be a dream, except that I was now starting to get a tight feeling in my chest. "Dinner at the usual time tonight, girl, don't be late, you've had most of the day off so you shouldn't be complaining." I noticed that it was only half past four, somehow I expected it to be much later. I reluctantly started to prepare food that we had in the refrigerator and freezer. I had to remember to list replacements I would require her to buy as obviously they weren't going to let me loose to shop. My implants, I suppose I must start to think of them as my breasts, were starting to ache but at least the terrible heels were not longer the pain they were. An ominous sign appeared when I laid the dining table. At a prominent position near where my wife habitually sat, was a large vase holding not only some of the canes thug had collected from the garden, but also a riding crop, a whip, and paddles in wood and leather. However, apart from one or two threats, the meal past off without incident until they moved back to the sitting room to enjoy their glasses of port. I had been clearing the dining table and started to place items in the dishwasher when my wife called me in. "Turn around girl," she instructed me and unlocked both my dress and my corset and while the thug held me round my neck, she undid the waist belt connected to my chastity. My dress was dropped to the floor, followed by my corset, then she wrapped a new corset round me, fastened then tightened it further than the original. Thug wasn't satisfied with that and with all his strength pulled it even tighter until I was seriously struggling for breath. The waist belt and chastity connection were then re-fastened. The new corset was a vivid purple with black lace and only had quarter cups, meaning that my new breasts were prominently on display. "Go and hang up your dress and put away your old corset, then come up to our bedroom." the thug ordered. When I got there I had, believe it or not, the biggest shock of this entire business. My marital bed had been replaced by a four poster, but worse than that, two ornately carved planks were fitted between the two posts at the foot end. As I was working out what they were they were quickly demonstrated as the thug bent me over the end of the bed and placed my head and wrists in hollows carved into the lower plank. My wife then pushed one of two buttons on the headboard and the upper plank came down trapping me in a pair of stocks. Thug then pulled out and up metal bars forming a huge capital 'H' on its side. The top bar pushed my hips away from the bed and he attached my ankles by big metal clamps, which clicked into position, to the outside of the lower bar, forcing my legs apart. I was hopelessly trapped with my breasts on display, staring closely at my wife in the bed, who then decided to taunt me by doing a striptease. "Remember when you could fuck me girl?" she gloated. "Now it's you are well and truly fucked. The only trouble is that it's not sexually. I thought about having your bits cut off today, but I like to see you suffer, so the next time you visit the good doctor, he's going to cut off your prick and stuff your balls up inside your body. You're ball sack will be stitched up to give the appearance of a vagina. You'll look like a girl, not up close of course, but with the help of some high doses of Viagra, you're going to be as randy as hell and not be able to do a thing about it. I might do it tomorrow, or one day next week or next month, part of my pleasure will be you worrying about it and not being able to do a thing." "She's a right sadist, that wife of yours." The thug spoke. "She's been looking forward to giving you pain, she gets off on it did you know?" He came up behind me and pinched my nose. The moment that I opened my mouth, he inserted the same gag into it that I had to wear to the doctor's. I was getting terrified now on a number of counts, not least of which I was still having great difficulty breathing because of the corset. I became almost hysterical when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him get a vase, the same as the one in the dining room and with the same content. "Now let's see what turns on your wife the most." I barely heard him when there was a loud slap and my left buttock turned on fire. Unable to scream or move more than an inch or two, I felt my other buttock burn. As this continued, I was horrified to see my naked wife masturbating herself. Worse pain came from what I realised was the leather paddle had been replaced by an unyielding wooden paddle. Thug wasn't making regular strokes, I couldn't brace my self, but when I tried he sensed it and waited for any slight relaxation to recommence the onslaught. Pain continued building with each stroke, way past anything I thought I could stand, tears ran down my face and I sobbed uncontrollably. Then he stopped. Naked himself he jumped into bed with my wife who climaxed as soon as he entered her. They continued at it like rabbits, while I cried continuously, for what must have been half an hour. "Hit her some more Darling," she cried, and I realised that my ordeal was not over. Ever willing, thug slipped out of bed commenting that he needed a few minutes to recover. The next thing I felt was what I later saw was a riding crop. Fortunately, by the time I had received three or four strokes, I entered a different world. Something was going on behind me, but a bird was singing and I could hear the sound of waves. I was looking for a lovely house for myself and my bride. I looked at the details of a house on a gated estate that sounded ideal. It had a bowling alley in the basement and the whole house was covered by a state of the art security system. Where was I? I was in an unfamiliar bed. Pain suddenly wracked my body and memory came flooding back. The panties I was wearing were slippery and there was an antiseptic smell. I looked at my alarm clock, it was ten but morning or evening? There was a note beside the bed: Georgina We have left you in bed this morning as I was worried that if you didn't recover I wouldn't be able to continue tormenting you. We are out for the day and will be back at the usual time so have our meal ready. Just think, it may be tomorrow you loose your little friend! Your Mistress. I looked at the note and pulled on my dress, stockings and shoes, finally staggered up the stairs to find it was daylight outside. Ten in the morning. I couldn't survive another night like this. But even the doctor said the security system was foolproof. A sudden thought; how did he know about the security system? Even Beth didn't hear about it because we never followed up for information from the agent. Sudden light! He wasn't talking about the ready installed system, he only knew about the controls she had on me. Think. Where could the original system be? I knew it was very discrete. The obvious place to start looking was the sitting room, downstairs with windows to the rear of the house would give any potential burglar unseen time to work. I scanned the room and nothing was visible. Hang on, I thought, it has to be above floor and normal furnishings level or it might be buried. There was nothing in the way of visible wires or sensors round the windows. Suddenly I saw it in plain sight. Every room and corridor had a smoke detector, there's even one near the front door and that has to be overkill. I was still hampered in my movements, but I pulled a dining room chair under the hall detector to have a close look at it. I couldn't see a lens but perhaps I had the answer. I retrieved a box of matches from the dining room draw where we keep the candles. I climbed back on the chair and lit one, blowing the small amount of smoke into the holes round the outside of the flat instrument. I expected a piercing alarm to sound, but instead the telephone rang. Now was the crunch. Could I answer it? "Hello?" "Hello, this is gate security here, can you confirm if you have a fire there?" I nearly fainted with joy, I couldn't believe it could be that simple. I had started to talk in my girly whisper voice, but now I reverted to my normal one. "No Sir, I haven't a fire but I have been kidnapped and held against my will. There is some sort of block on this telephone, how is it you can get through?" "That's because we have a secure line to the house, nothing to do with the telephone exchange system. Now tell me, what's your name and can you leave the house?" "No, that's the problem, there's no one here at the moment, but an electronic sensor has been installed, which trips an electric shock in a belt round me and is enough to knock me out. Can you get hold of my lawyer? Tell him it's for Tony Morris." I gave him the number then I explained that I had been injured but I wanted incontrovertible evidence against my captors, so I wanted to arrange police to be here a while after they returned, which shouldn't be before about half past six. Over the next few hours I got everything arranged. My lawyer, Jeff, arranged for his P.I. to bring four listening devices through which he would record conversations and the police agreed to send two of their own. These all arrived through my letterbox in the front door. Luckily I had insisted on this as I hated outside mail boxes, and I didn't want to risk opening door or windows, or even cutting off my belt, in case Beth had fitted her own alarm system. I also had Jeff prepare another surprise for the lovers when they got home. With my 'cavalry' out of sight, I heard Beth's car enter the garage at ten to seven, and I made a point of hobbling over to meet the as they came in. "Get us drinks girl and bring them into the sitting room," the thug ordered, my wife following him, giggling. I took the drinks in, on the customary silver platter and turned to my wife. "My I have permission to speak, Madam?" "What could a maid have to say that would possibly interest me?" Thug laughed. "Madam, if I may just point out, if you continue to torture my backside at the moment, I will probably die. Sorry madam to be so bold." I lowered my eyes in an obviously submissive stance. "Oh don't worry about that girl, I know that you would only faint again if we gave a repeat performance in the stocks, you're such a sissy. Tonight you're going to move to the next stage of womanhood. I started my period today, I think all the pleasure I had watching you suffer last night bought it on early. Anyway, you're going to keep my lover content and actually he's so randy at the moment, you can have your first lesson. Get on your knees. Now." "Please Madam, not that please." "Shut up faggot and open your mouth." I suppose that was thug's idea of foreplay. "But please Sir, I'm afraid I would catch you with my teeth, I really don?t want to do this, I?m not gay.? ?Don?t worry, every time I feel your teeth your loving wife will hit you with a cane, and you can remember how she can hurt you with that, don?t you?? I was starting to worry, where were my rescuers? He had already got his prick out. Thug forced my jaw open and pushed his revolting thing as far as my throat, I closed my mouth as a reflex action. ?I felt your teeth slut!? H shouted and I felt a terrible pain on top of my existing injuries as my wife did indeed cane me. That was it, I prayed that I could survive long enough for my rescuers to get here. The thought had suddenly crossed my mind that there was one thing that the pair of them really loved, and it was in my mouth! I just had to take the opportunity. I bit down as hard as I could. Above me he screamed, Beth realised what I was doing and started raining blows down on me, but panic meant that many were aimed at my head and shoulders and were relatively painless. He struggled to pull out of my mouth, hitting me at the same time, but by them I could taste blood, lots of it, and as he pulled I shook my head like a dog with a bone. I had adrenalin charged strength. I may have mentioned that I qualified as a dentist. Well my teeth are in excellent condition. Sharp as well. I was sprayed with blood as most of him parted from me. He collapsed on the floor, screaming and trying to staunch the flow of blood from his groin. I fortunately had the quickest reactions and ran to the downstairs cloakroom, spat the offending article into the bowl, barfed a little, then as any dutiful maid, I flushed the toilet. Thoughtfully, I had closed and locked the door as my screaming wife hurled herself at me. I sat down on the seat and couldn?t stop shaking. About thirty seconds later I heard people charging in from both front and back of the house. After a short amount of time I unlocked the door but couldn?t stand to walk out. By the time a technician cut my belt off and medics helped me out to a second ambulance, my wife was in handcuffs and about to be placed in a police car. A rather small but impeccably dressed young man asked the officer if he could just have one moment. ?Mrs. Elizabeth Morris?? She confirmed that she was. He served her with divorce papers to give her something to read in her cell. It took me several months to get over the trauma. With the photographic evidence of my injuries and psychiatrists reports, my former wife was ordered to pay me more recompense than she had in assets, however she has no accommodation worries for the next seven years. As well as bankruptcy for her, Doctor Hervey had to pay me most of his wealth and the rest to another three victims, he was also was struck off and given eleven years. The thug was mostly broke anyway, but he got six years, shortened a little because of me having shortened him a lot. As for me? I am now the sexually ambiguous Francis Morris. I decided that I?d live with my breasts for a while and am enjoying life on both sides of the fence, so to speak. I?ve been seeing a very charming and sophisticated lady who happens to be bi-sexual. She told me that she likes having her cake and eating it, or at least nibbling them, so I?ll stay this way at least until we decide to have children.