The Loving Wife free porn video

THE LOVING WIFE. James and Silvia Martin had been married for five years, both, on the surface seemed quite content with life, especially Silvia, who's work as a nurse she said, was her vocation. But James, at least, had a deep dark secret. When he was young, his mother had enjoyed dressing him up as a little girl. Although she had always claimed otherwise, she had badly wanted a baby daughter, but after James was born, her husband had left her for his secretary, forever ending her dreams of a sister for her little boy. She therefore, very secretly, had relished dressing him in the clothes his sister would have worn. As he grew older and was aware of the potential shame of his unmasking as a sissy, he covered up his continued dressing, and not even his mother knew that he collected quite a wardrobe of feminine things in his bachelor flat. At least that was what he thought. The only good thing about his father was that he had a property portfolio, of which he gave her some half a dozen prestigious houses which she was able to rent out for a handsome income. That was apart from the large, Victorian edifice of a house in which she brought up her son. James had a good steady job as an accountant, valued by his employer as being not just able to keep the books, but capable of giving sound financial advice, as to the future direction the company should take. He had a wise head on his young shoulders, stoked by continual monitoring of the markets against his company's performance. It was when his mother was dying prematurely of cancer, that she confided in Silvia that James had a secret that she must be willing to accept. She told his wife everything about him that he had kept from her. After his mother's funeral, and they were alone, Silvia spoke gently to her husband. "Your mother told me something about you, James, that surprised, but didn't shock me." He was puzzled by this revelation, wondering what it could possibly be. "She told me that you enjoyed dressing up. Don't worry, I'm not upset with you, I can understand why you wouldn't want to talk about it." "Why would she say a thing like that?" He was cringing with embarrassment. "It was something she did to me when I was very young." "But it wasn't just that, was it Darling?" She smiled at him. "You collected clothes after you left home she told me. What happened to them?" "I... I got rid of them when we married." Now he felt his world crashing in. "I thought that once we were together, I wouldn't need them any more." "After she told me about you... your hobby," she was still smiling and took hold of his hand, "I asked around at work about cross dressing. I know that you must still have those urges, and you'll have them for the rest of your life. I'm just a little upset that you couldn't tell me, but I can understand. Have you dressed in my things at all?" He hesitated in giving a reply, so she prompted him. "I can't be cross if you gave way to temptation, after all we are much the same size and I do have some lovely clothes. My undies especially, you should know, you've bought many of them as presents for me." "I'm sorry." He seemed close to tears. "I've tried them once or twice, only after you've worn them and before they've gone in the wash, I wouldn't like you to think that you've put on anything that I've made dirty and I've been very careful with them." "Darling, I really don't mind my love." She lifted his face in both her hands and kissed him on the lips. "Now we can start over as far as that's concerned. You can start a collection of your own clothes, keep them in the wardrobe and chest in the loft room, we'll only need that when we have lots of children, until then you can make it your girly room. How would that be?" He agreed, but was still wary. He was afraid her feelings towards him would change once she saw him dressed. "That's settled then," she beamed, "now I want to see what you look like as my girlfriend. You must know what of my clothes look best on you, go and put something on and come back down and surprise me." Surprise her he did. She had looked at him dispassionately before, and thought he could make a passable woman, now she saw him and he was not only passable, it would be difficult for someone that didn't know, to accept he was a man. He was actually good looking and he only had on a minimal amount of make up, a little lipstick, and eye shadow, she quickly realised that with a professional makeover, he would be quite glamorous. She caught hold of him and hugged him. "I love you, you're not only my husband, you're my girlfriend, all in one." Of course James thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He had inherited everything, including the house from his mother, that they had lived in for nearly two years, looking after her with her illness, until she had not come out of the hospital following her last relapse. It was a huge house, with six bedrooms in a normal configuration, plus a two roomed apartment in the loft, originally designed to house the staff in Victorian times, and now neglected. They both went upstairs to look at what they would have to have done, James at first told her that it was something he could work on, but she knew that as far as do it yourself was concerned, he could hardly knock a nail in straight.. At her insistence, they arranged for a decorator to come in and turn the apartment into a young girl's dream. It was equipped with a bath/shower room, the slightly smaller room becoming his girl bedroom, with two each wardrobes and chest of drawers, and a theatre dressing room type of vanity, with lots of room for cosmetics and lights surrounding the make up mirror. The other room, not much different in size, became what Silvia described as his playroom, with settees coffee table and television. Money wasn't much of a problem, with James' employment and Silvia was by now a senior nurse, but what they brought in was petty cash compared with the property income that they now had. She enjoyed arranging the rooms as much as James and pointed out that Jillian would be able to invite her up for tea. "Who's Jillian?" James rather naively asked. "Come off it Darling, you can't be James when you're in your other persona, I think Jillian would be a nice name and I can shorted it to Jill, unless there's another name you'd prefer?" Jill was settled on and they spent hours every weekend stocking his rooms with everything he had ever dreamed of. She took him to a corsetiere that she knew that did custom made support products for some of her patients, those people who, for example had damage to their stomach muscles so needed a controlling undergarment. The corsets that he had made were extremely constricting but gave him a very feminine shape. He especially liked going to a fetish shop in the next town, where he was able to indulge in the more extreme items that he admitted, he wasn't sure he was going to be able to wear. She encouraged him to buy four French maids' outfits together with sky high, heeled shoes to match as well as the most realistic 'C' cup breast forms. She also made some purchases there, but told him that they were presents for later on. "Why don't you hand in your notice at work?" she suggested to him, completely out of the blue. "We certainly don't need your money, we have this big house, and at the moment we pay a cleaning service to look after it. Firstly, I think that maid Jillian could do a better job, and secondly it would also mean that we wouldn't have strangers potentially poking their noses into the top floor." Perhaps he was carried away by all the preparations, but he couldn't think of a single reason why he shouldn't do it. The only stipulation he made was that Silvia cut down the number of hours that she worked, she would only promise to try. Silvia arranged for the hospital's make up specialist to come over and give him lessons and advise on the best colours for his skin and eyes, and likewise a hairdresser to show him how to get the best out of his now longer blonde hair. He was made to practice for hour after hour, until it was second nature to him. A month later, one Sunday afternoon, Silvia sat in their living room, being served high tea by Jillian. The maid was dressed in a lavender coloured uniform, with the tie on her small, fancy apron only needing to reach twenty two inches round his waist, his accessories and five inch heeled shoes, all matching the colour of his dress perfectly. The dress was so short that it didn't nearly reach his stocking tops, and was made shorter still by the voluminous petticoats which held it out horizontally. He loved the feeling of servility as he worked, and the idea that his shoes and dress were locked on him, Silvia holding the keys, almost made him ejaculate at the thought. His problem was that his penis was also locked away, in a chastity device with spikes inside, that made it painful to get hard. He didn't actually like that, but Silvia had made such a fuss about making him a marvellous present of it, so it was impossible to disappoint her and complain. Over the weeks that followed, his routine was gradually laid out. He rose at five thirty and spent thirty or forty minutes dressing and making sure that his appearance was absolutely immaculate. On his hair, by now permed in loose curls all over his head and nearly half way down his back, he pinned a tiny cap, mainly white lace but beribboned in a colour to match his dress It had to be exactly in the centre on his head, and exactly two and a half inches above his forehead hairline. He wasn't allowed a hair out of place, and that included his much reduced eyebrows. He had extensions to his lashes, and each lash had to all be parallel to each other, darkened with mascara, but not a clog in sight. His dresses were in black, pink, lavender and yellow, and his eye shadow, lipstick, stockings, shoes and nail varnish, had to be the same colour. All his undies, apron and the lace choker he wore round his neck together with any other lace trim, had to be spotlessly white, and his stocking seams had to be completely straight, as did his six suspenders from the corset to the stocking tops. His finger nails had extensions that reached almost an inch out from his fingers, which he found difficult to work with at first, as he did the five inch heels and the corset, but after three or four weeks he got used to them. Meal times were another thing that became more rigid, especially when she became a surgical nurse, and had regular part time hours from eight until one in the afternoon. She demanded breakfast in bed at six forty five, lunch at one thirty and dinner at eight o'clock. His rising and her breakfast were two hours later at weekends or when she didn't have to work, but even then she used the excuse that he would disturb her when he got up, so he was relegated to sleeping in the top floor bedroom, and these became known as the 'maid's quarters'. She sometimes wanted afternoon tea, but only a light dinner when that was the case. If she wasn't going to be there for any of the meals, which wasn't that infrequent, she told him in the morning when she inspected him at seven thirty, just before she left for work. Of course, all these rules didn't come in at once. The first ones, just concerned with a tidy appearance, Silvia introduced as a sort of game, in which he was only too happy to play. A couple of mornings, he failed to reach her exacting standards when she inspected him, so she told him off and sent him away to remedy the fault. Then she asked him if he would allow her to spank him for infringements, and he reluctantly acquiesced. The first time it happened she used her hand, and he noticed that she was very obviously turned on by the experience. "Oh darling," she breathlessly told him, "I suppose it's a bit like your dressing up, I've always wanted to do that, please use your tongue on me, to finish me off." He knelt in front of her, slipped her damp panties down and used his tongue as she wanted. It seemed like only seconds before she screamed and climaxed, holding him there for a second one. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." She smiled at him with tears in her eyes. He could hardly refuse her when she made it a rule and introduced certain 'aids' so that her hand didn't get so sore. First she bought a leather paddle, then a wooden one, quickly followed by a fairly thick riding crop. Every time she used them, he had to thank her by getting between her thighs. He thought that she didn't realise how much this hurt him, getting aroused while in his cruel chastity, it was almost as bad as the beating, which was what it fast became. Of course she did realise the effect of all this on him. She loved it. She got a rush whenever she ordered him to do something, and began to recognise that she was a dominatrix by nature, something that she'd never realised before. All this led to the idea that what she'd really like to do would be control him one hundred percent. The trouble was that he was an intelligent person with quite a strong character, certainly as far as others were concerned, although she knew he had a weak spot for her. She needed a way to control him, but that led on to another idea. What about making him as near as possible to an actual woman, but not give him the full gender change? That would result in him neither being a man nor a woman, and that could help to make him dependant on her. Her mind jumped to cuckolding him. What better ultimate proof of her control over him could there be, than him watching her have sex with another man? Associated with the hospital where she worked was a laboratory that among other things was combining various medicines as one tablet. Not earth shattering research, but so useful when dealing with elderly patients, not being able to remember to take all their pills. By combining them, they only had a binary choice; take them all or none of them. In other words they only had to remember one thing, one pill. From her point of view, James might be suspicious of several tablets, but one, with a good excuse, could work. She made discrete enquiries, and found that one of the young men working there would be quite happy to produce a combination of female hormone replacement, a testosterone blocker and a psychosis instigating element, making the patient susceptible to suggestions. Of course she knew that the last item was a bit like any other treatment of that type, hypnosis for example. You couldn't make someone do something completely against their principles, but as a cross dresser to start with, she was sure it would be a way to control her husband completely. The problem was making sure that he always took the tablet, if he skipped for any reason, he could easily start questioning the actions he was persuaded to do. With regard to his chastity, it started with her letting him out on Friday and Saturday nights. It was a month later when she introduced a rule that for every infringement of standards at inspection time, meant one less day out of chastity, she was confident that this could be the route to ensuring he took the medication. The first week when he didn't get any relief, was difficult, as she anticipated. After ten days he had blue balls, but when he complained she gave him the tablet which fairly quickly stopped the problem. A week later, she offered the tablets to him to take every day, so that the problem wouldn't arise, he trusted her, so didn't bother to ask what the tablets were. The plan was coming together. It was at this juncture she started holding dinner parties, it was time to start showing off her new toy. At first he complained, but as they were always people from where she worked, or old school friends of hers, none of whom knew him, and as he passed so well by then that they had no reason to suspect who he was, he let them carry on. When she had visitors, she insisted that he curtsey upon entry and exit from either her or her guests presence, or to acknowledge an order. His speaking was not permitted unless asked a specific question. A few weeks later the curtseying rule was extended to all the time. At first he couldn't get used to not talking to her, so to cure him, she locked a penis shaped gag round his head. It was so long that at first his throat started to attempt to eject it, but yet again, it was something he got used to. Later this became part of his uniform and somewhere Silvia found someone who would custom make gags in the same colours as each of his uniforms, calling them his pretty penises. She fastened them on him when he brought her breakfast and took them off when he was released from service at night, that was usually about ten thirty or eleven, especially when she wanted his tongue inside her. Sometimes it was later if she had guests, who were highly amused when she told them that her maid was a chatterbox, and it was the only way of curing 'her'. Often she would send him to bed while they were still there, saying that she didn't need him again, but this was part of a long term plan, getting him used to her entertaining guests alone. He was punished severely if he attempted to speak early morning or late at night, instead, he had to carry a small notebook and pencil in his apron pocket, write down anything he had to say, then just stand there holding it, hoping that his wife would be in the mood to read what he'd written. She also used the time he was fitted with his gag in the mornings, to give him his tablet. Not only did she know that he had been given it, there was no way he could spit it out after the gag was in his mouth, so she knew he had also swallowed it. Six months into his service, he vaguely wondered why he had allowed all these things to happen to him, but not for long, he just accepted that it had happened and that it was probably what he wanted. He didn't know that the tablets he was taking were a combination of a psychotic drug and oestrogen which lowered his male sex drive and allowed him to be highly suggestible. He wasn't at all disturbed by her dinner guest of late frequently being the surgeon she worked for. He was sent to bed before he left but he was gone by the time he took Silvia's breakfast in the next morning. She told him that it was very useful to be able to discuss cases away from other members of staff, for reasons of confidentiality, and he accepted that. She told him that the reason for her pussy to be extra wet after this type of dinners, was that she had been thinking of her lovely maid, so he had to lick her out and bring her to several climaxes while she had her breakfast the following morning. His own needs became less and less important to him, until one day, around a year after he became a maid, as he was vacuuming her bedroom, his chastity fell off. She was downstairs reading the news paper when he took the metal device and showed her. "This is quite a milestone, Jillian," she smiled at him, "it seems that you don't need this nasty thing any more. Slip your dress off for a minute." He took off his apron, then his dress, standing there in just his corset and undies. She pulled down the bra half cups and removed the breast forms with some solvent. She had refitted them about once a week ever since he had been a maid, but he hadn't noticed that over the time they had become just a little smaller, each time she replaced them. Now she threw them away, letting his own breasts rest back in the half cups, to find that they almost fitted perfectly. At the same time his penis and balls had shrunk so much they were too small for the lock to stay on them, he hadn't noticed them change because they had been locked up, and in any case, he just hadn't experienced any sexual desire for many weeks. He knew there must be something wrong about this, but when she exclaimed how lucky he was, he realised that he was lucky, he had his very own breasts to play with. "It's just what you've always wanted Jillian, isn't it?" she asked him. He could only nod agreement, any real reply would have been unintelligible through his gag, and in any case he had to agree with her, didn't he? Come up into my bedroom for a moment, there's something more I can do to help you." She asked him as if she was about to do him a favour. When they got there, she had him pull down his g-string, and smeared some medical quality adhesive over his shrunken balls, then pushed them up into his body. Likewise she put glue on the underside of his penis pulling it back so that it became attached to his perineum area, with no lumps visible at all. Of course he would have to sit to pee, but he had to do that anyway with the chastity on, so it was just a continuation of what he was used to. Over the next few days she had his uniforms altered, so that they were much lower at the front, almost showing his nipples, which had also become large and feminine. Silvia took delight in showing him off to all her friends and he was a real hit with the men. He continued to do his work, without the slightest idea that he was the but of their jokes. He was so compliant that she decided to try some other ways to enjoy herself, while at the same time benefiting from his maid service. The first was on the following Friday morning, when she explained that her doctor was coming for dinner again that night, but they had so many things they had to discuss that he was going to spend the night. She would save him a job, however, as the doctor could sleep in with her in her bed, so that there wouldn't be another bed to change, and also they would be able to continue their discussion. He would, however need to bring two breakfasts, not just one, in the morning. By that time, it wouldn't have occurred to him not to believe her, he followed every word she said but the deeper meanings were nothing to him. His mind by then, couldn't process the simplest of statements, all he listened for was her to tell him what to do and that everything was alright. Nothing else mattered to him. He cooked and served dinner to them in his usual silent, efficient manner, waiting patiently while they ate each course, in case they needed his assistance. Then, when it was time for them to go up, his wife told him to go to her bedroom, turn down the bed, then wait for them. He stood, still silent, in spite of his gag having been removed for the night. He hadn't actually spoken a word for more than three months by that stage, and Silvia had seriously considered leaving it off him, but rather liked the humiliating look of it. She had the maid help to undress them both, making sure he hung up his her lover's clothes so that they weren't creased in the morning, then once their naked bodies had become entwined in the bed, she dismissed the maid, ordering breakfast for nine the next morning. Jillian just knew there was something wrong about him going to another bedroom while his mistress was with another man. He just couldn't work out what. Deciding that it was too difficult a problem to solve, he was soon in his own bed and it wasn't long before he was asleep. The same nagging doubt came back to him the next morning when he carried their breakfast trays in. He could note the contrast between the man's hairy, tanned body, and his mistress's pale and delicate complexion, it was clear to him because they were both still naked. There was that niggling doubt again, something was wrong, but he couldn't be bothered to work out what, and of course his mistress would tell him if it was important. The Doctor, William Turner, otherwise known as Bill, was the surgeon that Silvia worked for, that was true, but he often carried out gender based operations. On more than one occasion, he suggested he did a complete sex change on her husband, but although she rejected that because she wanted him to be neither one sex nor the other, she was a little taken with his other idea. Jillian only had 'C' cup breasts, and more than once, Bill suggested that he be given implants to bring them up to a nice big pair of 'FF's'. Silvia had worried at first, whether Bill would approve of what she had done to her husband, but Bill's sense of humour was tickled at the notion that she kept him as her maid. He quite liked the idea that he would move in with her and they would both be waited on by her husband. He understood that Silvia liked the lifestyle largely afforded by her husband's legacy, and he had no wish to keep working for ever, they could both retire very soon, have the money to live very comfortably and be waited on. That Silvia had a voracious sexual appetite with tastes similar to his own was a massive bonus. Silvia agreed, but found that the only thing she was missing was the ability to gloat to Jillian about what she had done, but if she did that, it would run the risk of losing control of him. A less than completely satisfactory plan, unless she could find a way to get over that little problem. That first time she had Bill to stay over, she didn't risk pushing it too hard, but the second time, the following weekend, when Jillian came in with their breakfasts, Silvia had the maid clean her pussy up, then continue to use her mouth to bring Bill back up to the state where he could perform again as soon as the trays were cleared away. It was a bit of a risk, she worried that pushing too hard would bring Jillian's mind out of its fog, but her husband trusted her too much for that to be a difficulty. It was then that she decided that she had to find a way for Jillian to know everything that had been done to her, but somehow not manage to escape Silvia's control. How she could do it? For the time being eluded her, but she spent a long time thinking about it. When she mentioned it to Bill, he simply replied straight away: "Why don't you just get an electronic control collar like the ones they use for animals? You've made him almost a trained poodle anyway." It was so simple, yet she couldn't think of any reason it wouldn't work. She decided that on Monday she would start the new form of control over Jillian, one that he would be aware of. That Friday evening, Bill played the host to Silvia's hostess, and for the first time they openly invited their friends over to dinner with them. Jillian was told to make a special effort as they would have five other couples to dine, what they didn't tell him was that it was going to be a party from way back, they would all be playing the old game of pick the key. "I don't think I've played that since I was at medical college," Bill remarked. "No, me neither," commented Silvia, "in fact when I mentioned it to James a few years ago, he didn't even know what I was talking about. Talk about a sheltered upbringing." They both laughed. All Jillian had to worry about was the dinner party, and he wanted to make his mistress proud of him. He actually started the preparations the day before, marinating meat, making the ice cream based dessert and the pat( for the starter, he laid the table as soon as lunch was cleared away and soon had everything in hand. As he was told that the evening was special, he wore his pink uniform that had recently been taken in. His waist now, he was very proud to tell his mistress, was down to a mere eighteen inches with his corset on. Silvia revelled in the control she had over him, and intended to exert it in front of everyone tonight. First of all, she gave him a back story, one that he could, with a little persuasion, believe. With Bill trying not to burst out laughing in the background, she explained that tonight was to help some of their patients with sexual problems get over them. "Jillian, I have to ask you a big favour, on these poor peoples' behalf." She looked at him with big doe eyes. "The men have awful trouble getting confidence when they have an erection. They are very shy, and worry about whether they can ejaculate, I know it's an awful thing to get you to do, but while we are having dinner we would like you to get under the table and play with their penises, could you do to them what I know that you enjoy, by putting them in your mouth? I know it's horrible, but if you don't do it, then for their benefit, I would have to do it myself. You wouldn't put me through that, would you?" Jillian nodded 'no' and curtseyed. "You'll do it?" A nodded 'yes'. "The only thing is, we don't want their wives to get jealous, so could you bear to give them a taste of your special skill with your tongue as well?" Bill had to leave the room, he was laughing so much when his lover's wife agreed. "Something you must remember Jillian, you won't have your pretty penis strapped in your mouth tonight, so you must remember not to talk, just pretend that it's still in there, all right?" Jillian nodded yes, but couldn't understand why his mistress thought it necessary to remind him, after all it must have been more than four months since he had spoken a word. Being silent was second nature to him now, he managed perfectly well without talking. As the guests started to arrive in the evening he greeted each in turn with a curtsey, then showed them into the sitting room where his mistress and the Doctor were waiting. After each had their aperitifs, he returned to the kitchen and laid out the starters in the dining room, nodding to his mistress once all were ready. Once all were seated round the table, Silvia smiled and pointed her finger at Jillian, who got on his hands and knees and crawled under the table. The first reaction he got from the man to the right of his wife was surprise, he actually moved his legs together and then looked under the table cloth, only to see the maid's head as he unzipped his trousers. "We are having an extra little entr?e this evening, ladies and gentlemen, courtesy of our lovely maid. It's just to help you relax and get ready for tonight's entertainment." By then Jillian had the man in her mouth and revolted as he was, he proceeded to give the man a very efficient blow job, his months of the penis gag helping take the man down his throat. He didn't know what to do with the man's cum, so he swallowed it, knowing that his mistress wouldn't like a mess on the floor. Then he moved on to the second man, to Silvia's left, not getting such a surprised response, and then to a third, by which time, the diners had finished their starters. With the main course, he managed the other two men and two of the women guests, finishing the final three during dessert. As he was clearing the table in the dining room, when the men sitting round each threw a key into a large opaque bowl offered to them by Silvia. She then shook the bowl and held it over everyone's heads, offering round. This time, each of the ladies picked one key from the bowl, the last one she took herself. As he left the room, he could hear a great deal of giggling and laughter, none of which he understood. By the time he had finished all his chores downstairs for the night, he returned to the dining room, then the other day rooms, but no-one could be seen. He then heard various shouts and screams coming from upstairs, not of pain, he quickly realised, but of pleasure. This was not something that his mind could process and, realising that tonight he didn't need his gag to be undone, decided to be really daring and take himself to bed. The next morning he carried out his routine, delivering two breakfasts to his mistress's room. As she woke and sat up, he saw a strange man beside her, then recognised him as one of the guests from the previous night. "Good morning Jill, place the trays on the bed." He did as ordered. "As you have been so good to us all, I've decided that you don't need to have your pretty penis in your mouth all the time, so long as you maintain your silence. Now as you prepare the other ten breakfasts, take them in pairs to the other bedrooms." The maid just nodded, curtseyed, and left the room. As he was told, he delivered the other breakfasts, finding it odd that both their spare bedrooms with twin, rather than double beds, held a couple in only one bed, the other being untouched. The Doctor, who he had become used to seeing in his wife's room, was in one of the other rooms with a double, and he had one of the lady guests with him. It was all so odd, something was wrong about what he saw, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of what it was, so he gave up trying, and started to pick up the finished breakfast trays, touring the rooms with more coffees where required. The main thought in his mind was that he didn't have the inconvenient gag in his mouth all the time, but it did feel odd, it almost felt as if an item of his clothing had been left off. What never occurred to him was that he could now talk. The guests all seemed to be enjoying themselves and decided that the party would continue for another night. First of all Jillian was just pleased that everyone was happy, after all, that was his main purpose in life, he had been told so many times. He noticed that his mistress had not given him his daily tablet. First of all he wondered if he should remind her, then mentally shrugged and decided that it wasn't his place to tell his mistress what to do. Jillian went about his work almost as if nothing unusual was going on, but it wasn't long before he was almost deafened by the music in the sitting room, as the various couples drifted downstairs and started drinking again. As each room was vacated, he hurriedly changed the bedding and cleaned, still trying to keep downstairs in some form of order. By half past one, he was told to prepare some of the snacks he usually did as nibbles to accompany aperitifs, but a lot more of them. He had pastry in the freezer so that, together with cheese, he made cheese twists, with olives and anchovies he made another appetiser. He had two jars of pickled quails eggs, and other pickles that he was able to either combine with cheese or ham, and some asparagus he had in the fridge he wrapped in Palma ham and grilled. He finally wrapped some of his pastry round cocktail sausages, and he was hailed a hero by the guests. They realised that there was no way he could continue to produce food out of nowhere, so arranged for a take-away Chinese meal to be delivered in the evening. During the afternoon, the feeling of unease was returning to Jillian. He was troubled by thoughts that something was very wrong, and kept getting flashbacks as if he was his mistress's husband and something about a dog collar. He dismissed these as silly, and kept his cleaning routine as far as he was able. He noticed that from time to time couples would drift off upstairs for a while, but they all returned for the evening meal as he was laying it out, buffet style at nine in the evening. By eleven many of the drinks that they kept in the house, in copious quantities, were running low, so everyone were drinking whatever was left, rather than what they perhaps normally wanted. Jillian helped them, either one by one or sometimes as couples, up to the bedrooms. He managed to place the Doctor in the same room as his mistress, satisfying his sense of order. He was working on the mammoth task of cleaning the kitchen, so that once he had cleared a space he was able to collect more debris from the day rooms. It was while he was reloading the dishwasher, that he smelled smoke. He ignored it for quite a while, several of the guests had been smoking, cigarettes and cigars, and several times he recognised the smell of something that he was sure, legally, shouldn't have been there. As the smell was getting really strong, he wandered out to the sitting room but as he opened the door, he was shocked by an inferno taking over the room. He shut the door, then wondered what he should do. He knew that the guests were incapable of being woken, every one of them had collapsed on the bed when he had released them, and likewise his mistress and the Doctor. He looked at the telephone, but after the months of conditioning he just couldn't bring himself to speak without his mistress giving her permission. There was only one thing that his brain told him he could do, that was to go and get help. The nearest house to them was a hundred yards or so away, and he ran and started knocking on the door. In spite of repeating this twice, there were no lights and no response. He ran another hundred yards to the next house, where there was a light on in one of the rooms. The gentleman who was just going to bed, heard the urgent knocking on his door, but first of all checked to see who it was from the window before he opened it. All he could see was an incredibly sexy French maid. He realised that it was obviously some sort of trap or confidence trickster, and immediately dialled the police. It took a while for the operator to realise that the man was serious. It was an elderly gentleman, who feared for his safety, so she dispatched a patrol car but with no great sense of urgency. He was still on the phone to the dispatcher when the flames suddenly exploded out of several ground floor windows of Jillian's house, the whole area was lit in the orange light and the sounds of breaking glass and crashing timbers woke all the neighbours. Several of them telephoned for the fire brigade at the same space of two minutes. By the time the fire engines started to arrive, the front of the house collapsed and the fire swiftly engulfed the structure remaining, the dry wooden timbers greedily sucking up the flames. Jillian stood staring, not knowing what to do. An ambulance was on the scene and by then the emboldened gentleman had put a coat round his shoulders and called the paramedics over. Jillian's lack of speech was put down to being traumatised and he was quickly bustled off to the hospital. Blood tests were made there and the doctors were quite shocked at the concoction of drugs in his system. It was only after these that he was undressed ready for transfer to a ward, when they discovered that he was, or at least had at sometime been, a man. It was three days before he spoke, but another week before he was able to explain, at least as far as he could remember, what happened. It was only then that they felt he was well enough to be told that he was the sole survivor of the fire. They explained to him that it appeared that the fire started when a burning cigarette had ignited some spilt spirit, probably vodka, rapidly causing the room to burn. It was obviously an accident, the only sober person in the house was himself, and he was probably too much under the influence of the drugs he had been given, to have been responsible, even though they knew he had a motive. He was pleased to not have to bear the responsibility for the inferno. He kept his smile to himself. He had to enter into months of counselling both to deal with what had happened in his immediate past, and how he was going to deal with transitioning into a female, his only practical choice. Financially, he wasn't hit, his insurances had been set up for automatic renewal, so he was able to build a new house on the burnt out plot, and of course, he still had all his other lettings for income. As a now wealthy, single woman, he took time out and travelled, leaving the running of his property to an agent, leaving him to enter into a carefree life, doing exactly as he pleased. Although his faith in women had taken a severe knock, he did eventually partner a very vivacious woman from California, who he met in Sydney, Australia. He told her from the start that he had been through a traumatic experience, but left it at that. They spent many happy years commuting between England and the US every few months, and often wintering in Australia, which they both loved and where they eventually settled. When one day, not long after they had been together, his new partner asked him to explain more about his previous life, and how he had discovered that he was a lesbian. He simply told her that his spouse had too much loving for one person, and that he wasn't and never had been a lesbian. Puzzled, she decided not to press the matter, the trauma obviously had affected him.