The Making Of A Housewife free porn video

THE MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE Tony Meacher loved his wife, Alice, unconditionally. He had been put out of work when his company relocated to a northern town, but his wife was working in a family business locally where she was valued highly. He didn't think that his job any more important than hers, and there was no question that she wanted to stay put, so they did. He found it difficult to accept that his wife was the breadwinner until he realised that he could shoulder all the household duties until he could find new employment. His late mother taught him how to cook, sew and do the laundry and he since had made a bit of a hobby of finding and preparing new meals. The only worry he had was the history he had with the family who employed his wife. He'd told her that for a short while when they were at school he had dated Cleone Holden though it hadn't ended well. But all that was in the past and Alice got on very well with Cleone and her father, Frederick Holden, usually known as 'the old man' or just 'O.M.'. Holden Holdings had divisions all over the country, but her involvement was very much just with the local one. She was a designer and it was several of her ideas that they put into production under her control, making good profits for them and when he was ill she effectively took over the running of the company division, in spite of her comparatively tender age of twenty eight, people only asked 'how high' when she said 'jump'. It was at the start of O.M.'s illness that it was very important to Alice that she had Tony to take over the other problems in their lives. He was especially helpful preparing her clothes every day, making sure they were clean and ironed, did all the cooking and cleaning, cheering her up if she was down. They joked a great deal with each other, especially at weekends. It all started when she came home on the Friday evening, late and tired as usual, when she happened to mention to him that he made an excellent housewife. He poured her a stiff gin and tonic, disappeared for a while, then when he returned he was wearing her clothes, an old dress as he had no wish to ruin anything, and had lipstick on his lips. "Is there anything else I can get you, husband dear?" he asked in a voice quite passable as a woman. She looked at him and laughed. Often he was able to cheer her up with a stunt of some sort, but this time, as she studied him, she realised that if she didn't know who he was and if the make up was done a little better, he could easily be a woman. She decided to join in the fun. "If that's the way you feel, we'll go shopping with you. I'd love to see you choosing a pretty pair of panties." They both laughed. The trouble was that he didn't realise it could become serious. She didn't either to start with, but the more she thought about it the more the idea appealed to her. At that time, however, she was too consumed with the problems of the business to actually carry out her threat. She did mention it to Cleone, who told her she thought it was a hoot, but stored it in her memory.. Old man Holden had always held the view that she must be a tyrant at home with her husband. His thinking was that if a person wasn't ruler at home, they wouldn't be able to take the tough decisions needed at work, and he'd told her that on many occasions. So he was actually praising her for the way he thought she treated her husband, not realising that everything Tony did for her he did out of love, not just because he was forced to. Under the circumstances she didn't disavow the notion he held. He actually emphasised the philosophy that a successful person in business needed someone always at home to look after their every need before their own. She had mentioned that to Tony and they'd laughed about it, but in one of the short times the old man had returned to work (they were becoming fewer days each time, he was very ill) he'd given Alice a substantial raise, telling her it was so her husband wouldn't need to go to work. That way the business would benefit from Alice's husband running their domestic arrangements and he wouldn't need to neglect his wife because of another job. When O.M. died Alice was genuinely distressed. She had grown to like him over the years and she took Tony with her to pay their respects at the funeral where the company solicitor approached her, asking her to attend the reading of the will at the family home that afternoon. "Perhaps he's left you the family fortune," Tony joked with her when they arrived outside the Holden residence. "It's much more likely to be a little souvenier of him, we always got on so well, I think he saw me as the type of business woman he would have liked his daughter to be." "Thank God you're not," Tony replied, "she's just a spoild brat who won't work but expects everything to fall into her lap." At the will reading everyone got a shock. Alice was left seventy five percent of the shares in the company division she worked for and it was to be removed from the group and reformed as an independent company. It was peanuts compared with the value of the whole group, but a fortune as far as Alice and Tony were concerned. There was however a condition to the bequest. "These shares are conditional on her having her housewife continue in the duties already carried out by him as he does now, to ensure she has no domestic distractions," the solicitor read. "Doesn't he mean househusband?" Tony queried. "He said housewife so that's what he meant," Cleone spoke up before the solicitor could answer. "I don't think Mr Holden was familiar with the term househusband, but the two are interchangeable," The solicitor was obviously annoyed that such an ambiguity could have crept into the will and was unwilling to concede the point. "No," Cleone carried on, "a housewife wears pretty clothes, has coiffured hair and is made up to look nice for her spouse all the time. If Alice doesn't have that by next week, we'll contest the will." Cleone gave Tony a pretence of a sweet smile, not hiding her hatred for him in the slightest. The rest of the will was read, mainly dealing with fiscal matters involving the rest of the family, their Trusts, and the means by which he had made provision for death duties. When the meeting broke up Cleone came over to speak to Alice and Tony. "You'd better make a convincing housewife, I'll be over next week to inspect you." she told them, then turned abruptly and walked of laughing. "What are we going to do?" asked Tony, knowing full well what her answer would be. As it was Thursday for the funeral, the business had been closed until the following Monday as a mark of respect, so after the will reading they decided to just go home and relax over the long weekend. Monday would be soon enough to think about their problems. However, early the next morning there was a phone call, when Alice answered it was Cleone. "I've made an appointment for Tony at 'Dream Lady' in the South West shopping centre for eleven this morning, tell him not to be late." was all she said and hung up. "What do I do?" he asked his wife when she gave him the message. "I don't think we have a choice," she replied. They both went together to the salon which turned out to be occupying a large building adjacent to the shopping centre which also incorporated a medical centre. Tony went to the receptionist and introduced himself. "Ah yes Mr Meacher, we've been expecting you, would you sign this treatment form please," He had no idea what he was signing, all he saw was agreement to the treatments booked, but realised that he had no choice, although he still queried it. "I'm told not to tell you what your surprise is, all I can say is that it's a lovely present from your friend." The woman lifted her phone and simply told someone at the other end that he was there. Shortly a young woman came and introduced herself. "My name is Shirley, I'll be taking you to your various appointments while you are with us. "What shall I do?" Alice asked. "I'm his wife." "If you would like to come back at six, that should be about the right time." "Seven hours? What are you going to do to him?" Alice was concerned. "I'm told it's to be a surprise, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." With that she escorted him away. "What am I going to have done to me?" Tony asked the girl as they walked. She refused to tell him and also wouldn't even list the treatments they did because she had been told that it was a special treat for him. "How do you know I'll like it or even want it?" he asked. "Everyone loves the treatments here, they are the most advanced in the country so what is there not to like?" was all she would say. The first thing they did was to take him into a room that had equipment that looked like ray guns from a Bond film. He was stripped of all his clothes and laid face down on a padded table while the machines passed backwards and forwards over his body. He was then turned over and given a pair of goggles that he couldn't see with, someone told him that it was to protect his eyes, then again the machines passed over him in waves. A technician came forward, dressed in hospital scrubs and protective glasses and ran a small pencil light in the area of his eyebrows and sideburns. They removed the goggles from his face after someone had wrapped a hospital type gown round him. "I don't like what's happening," he told them, "I came here for a salon treatment but something is going on here that I don't understand." "We record everything that's done to you with your reactions Mr Meacher, you will be amazed how your reactions will be different once we're finished," Shirley told him. "We know that you're nervous at the moment, but all that will change, you see, you're in for a real treat." "I'm not nervous, I'm terrified," Tony countered, "I have no idea what's going on and no one will tell me." "It'll all soon become clear," was all he got in return. "You wait until you hear the recording of your impressions now, you'll be laughing afterwards." At that point the was led into another room that looke like and operating theatre, Shirley could see him shrink back so took his arm. "Don't worry, they're not going to cut you," she whispered, "everything here has to be kept as sterile as possible with the number of different clients we have passing through." He was laid back on the table in the centre of the room when a man in scrubs again and a surgical mask this time jabbed a needle into his arm. "It's just to avoid any discomfort," he said. "Noooo," Tony replied as he passed out. When he woke he wasn't in the same room and not even laying down. He was sat in a plush chair with a soft furry blanket over him. The lights were dim but a brighter light swept the room as the door opened. Shirley walked in with Alice shown through the door after her. "Are you ready for the grand unvieling?" she asked Alice, "I just know you're going to love the results, he was such a good subject to work on." The lights were dim again with the door closed, but he could see that, as Shirley helped him up he was walked towards a mirror with others each side of him. He could hardly feel his body and what he could felt odd, out of balance, he supposed it was the after effects of the sedative he had been given. Shirley pulled the blanket from him, the lights came on. "Tarra!" she said as a climax. There was a moment's silence, then.... Tony screamed and Alice fainted. This wasn't a reaction Shirly had ever had before. Shirley had to call for help and two assistants came in, lifted Alice to a chair and attempted to calm Tony down. To understand their reaction you really have to realise what had happened to Tony. His previously longish mousey hair was now his crowning glory, extensions woven into it to reach down below the level of his waist. Apart from his head, voluminous eyelashes and a line of narrow strands at his eyebrows, he was naked of body hair. He had perfectly formed and very perky 'B' cup breasts and was told later that in a matter of days they would be 'DD' cups. His waist, from a masculine if slim, thirty two inches had every drop of fat removed by liposuction to make it a shapely twenty four, and his hips, and his backside cheeks, had been increased from a respectable thirty eight inches to a jiggling forty two. It looked even bigger, being below his narrow waist as contrast. His face had been made up beautifully, if a little on the tarty side, with cosmetics that he was informed afterwards that were guaranteed to last five years, including ruby red lips that matched toe nails and false fingernails that extended beyond his natural ones by nearly an inch each. Of all those terrible things that he'd had done, they faded into insignificance compared with what was between his legs. He had to have explained to him that they'd infused his penis with a chemical that completely dehydrated all the sponge like cells, the result was that it was vastly diminished in size. It was then possible to push that, and his testicles up into his body and surgically glue his scrotum over each side of it, so it looked just like a labia, especially as it was bald, and he could still pee from between the folds of skin. All this was explained to them by the Managing Director, a Doctor Williams, a medically qualified doctor he explained, once they had sufficiently recovered to get to his office. "The escort lady, Shirley, told me that you record customers' reactions here, I want a copy of the recording of him," Alice said, as soon as they got there. "Sir, Madam, I don't wish to be obstructive, but he did sign a consent form when you got here," the MD told them once they had refused offered coffees. "Are you going to give us those recordings or not?" Alice had regained her composure and was now in business mode. "Otherwise I am going to call the police and have you charged with assault. I don't know whether the police would pursue it, but having them crawl all over your premises won't look good in tomorrow's newspapers, who I'm also going to call." The MD relented and called up the recording on his desktop. His office was equipped with a large television screen to one side, where the video could also be monitored. First it showed Tony being told he couldn't know what was happening to him, then his comments of protest were clearly heard after he'd had his first treatment. Doctor Williams put his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, the staff thought it was a treat for you, I don't know what else to say." "I think the first thing is to tell us how soon all these chages can be reversed," Alice was the only one thinking clearly. "I'm sorry, they're designed to be long lasting. The breasts have been formed by injecting a hygroscopic material we invented. It obsorbes liquid from the body and swells to form the breasts, you've probably been told that the ones used on your husband will eventually give him a double D sized bust. It can only be removed by surgery. Our liposuction technique removes fat from the waist and replants it, with a little tweaking, round the hips and backside. That can be worked on but won't be a hundred precent effective in returning it where it was. The hair removal is permanent, I'm afraid there's nothing can be done to get it back. The make up can be removed over a series of treatments, but that will mean returning here once a week for several months. I can't tell you whether the penis can be recovered. In theory it's possible, but no one's done it in practice." "I don't know what action we're going to take Dr Williams, we know that you have been the unwilling accomplice of a very nasty practical joke. For that reason we are prepared to not drag your name into it any more than we have to, but that assumes you will immediately mail me a copy of that recording, this is my address." Alice held up her phone with the e-mail address showing. The MD mailed the item and Alice could see that she had received it. He also sent her his private mobile number so that if they had anything they needed to talk about confidentially, they could call him direct. "Thank you for your honesty and cooperation Doctor," Alice shook him by the hand, "you will not be the main person we chase about this, we know who perpetrated it and it's her we'll be going after." "Can I be of a further small amount of help?" the MD asked. "Next door is a small boutique that our clients often use, they'll still be open, I'll give them a ring and set up and account, let's say for five thousand, just to start with. I'm sure you'll be able to find some things to wear in order to return home decently." They left and went straight into the small shop, the MD had caught her just as the owner was preparing to shut up for the night. The salon loaned Tony sufficient clothes for the walk round to the shop, so the first job was to get him into an outfit to go home in. They had no time to talk about anything, but Alice soon had Tony trying out all sorts of clothes, settling on so many that they had to make two trips to the car to take them all away. The shop owner commented that she was pleased she had decided not to hav an early night. Alice kept trying to make comments about his treatment to Tony, but he just wouldn't talk at all, even in the car on the drive back, she told him he had to discuss it, but to wait until they were home if he wanted. After their experience, neither felt hungry, so Alice settled for a sandwich that she made for herself once they were in. Once they were seated and with stiff drinks in front of them, Alice started off their discussion. "I know it doesn't seem like it to you right now, but I don't think this is all bad." "Not all bad!" Tony shrieked. "I'm a man with most of a woman's body, looking like a whore but can't have sex. What's good about that?" Tony had said almost nothing about his predicament between seeing himself in the mirrors and that point in time. Now it all came out in a rush. Alice realised that he'd been almost like a zombie but as she'd gone into problem solving mode, the way she did at work, she'd not noticed that he was actually suffering from shock so badly that it was akin to traumatic stress. He started crying so forcibly that pathetic screams and bubbling noises were coming from his throat. Tears were streaming down his face and he started dry retching, he'd had virtually nothing to eat all day so there was nothing for him to bring up other than a bile-like liquid. Alice called Dr Williams on his mobile to explain what was happening. He was still in his office but he told her he would be right over. After a relatively brief examination the doctor gave Tony a sedative and they put him to bed. "I would suggest that you give him a quiet weekend then see your own GP on Monday, unless there is a significant change," was his verdict. "I really can't tell you how upset I am that this has happened, I really only set out to help people who were unhappy with their bodies." "Don't worry Doctor, I know who's really responsible and they're going to pay." Having been assured that Tony would sleep for at least twelve hours, Alice slipped out to a couple of shops, then returned to keep an eye on him. He woke early the next morning, then a couple more times during the following day, each time all he needed was to moisten his lips with water, eventually coming round properly on Sunday morning. "How are you feeling?" Alice wanted to know. "How do you think?" Tony answered morosely. "I'm sorry if I upset you, but you do realise that Cleone has scored an own goal." Tony looked mystified. "She can't contest the will now, how can she claim that you're not a housewife after what she's done to you?" "I'm not the slightest bit concered about a bloody will. What about me?" "Oh thanks for that, I had no idea you were so selfish." "Selfish! Just look at me, I'm ruined for life probably," Once again tears started to run down his cheeks. "How would you like it if you were told that you probably wouldn't be able to have satisfactory sex for the rest of your life?" At that point he noticed that he was wearing a pink satin baby doll nightie. "What about this? Did you dress me in this ridiculous bit of clothing?" "How dare you!" Alice was really cross now. "I'm about to take over the company that's one of the biggest employers in this area, it's nearly been snatched away from me, and all you want to talk about is a stupid nightie. For your information, that nightdress is absolutely suitable for you now, girl." "I'm not a girl, I'm a mutilated man!" Now he was crying with no pretence of doing otherwise. "Tony, I'm sorry but there's not a lot we can do about that right now, so the only thing we can do is to turn it to our advantage. Look at you, you not only look like a girl, you cry like a girl, my husband is gone for the foreseeable future, I'm just looking at it all from the practical point of view. You've been playing the part of being my wife, now you have the job. I thought of calling you Toni with an 'i' but that isn't different enough from your old name. Yesterday I got on line and put changing your name by Deed Poll under way. I suggest that you go by the name of Trixie." Tony, soon to be Trixie, made a noise that Alice took to be consent but was in fact a heartfelt cry of dispair. He cringed inwardly as he viewed the prospect of his future life. He paid no more attention to his wife, talking on about when she was going to take over the business and how she was going to do things differently. If she had looked at him with a careful eye, she would have realised that he was slipping into a world that was nothing but black. The only careful eye she saw him with was selecting his clothes as he got dressed, making sure he gave out the right 'vibes' she called them. She selected a pretty three piece undie set of bra, panty and suspender belt attached to seamed stockings. "Don't forget to always make sure your seams are straight Trixie," she told him. She helped him on with a frilly white nylon blouse through which his bra was clearly visible and that in turn only served to emphasise his ever more generously increasing bust. A black pencil skirt, she decided, was a suitable backdrop to his frilly hostess apron and she told him that he should always wear shoes with at least a four inch heel. "High heels display the smartness and discipline of the wearer," was her reasoning. "You'll be better off not having to worry about make up, we should be grateful to Cleone for that at least." Once he was fully dressed she sent him off to get light lunches for them both. He made two salads with air dried garlic sausage and fresh rolls and set them down in the kitchen where they always ate breakfasts and light meals. "From now on Trixie, I think we should always eat in the dining room, don't you?" Alice asked. Trixie said nothing, moving the food and place settings to where she wanted them but had barely sat down when Alice asked for a glass of wine. Trixie opened and poured from a bottle of Bordeaux and placed it down for his wife. "You're not having one?" she asked, but didn't notice when he didn't reply. "Never mind, it'll be just me then that drinks to us." When she had finished eating, Trixie cleared the plates away, throwing his own entire lunch into the bin. She didn't notice, she was still making plans as to how she was going to show Cleone that the only thing she'd achieved was to make sure of Alice's position in the company. She went to the room they used as a home office and started to get things down on paper. Trixie pulled out one of the stools in the kitchen and sat down. That was where he was when Alice came into the kitchen just before seven o'clock, wanting to know what was for dinner. When she realised he'd done nothing towards it she was furious. "If you're going to be like that, I'm going out to eat, you can fix something for yourself." And she slammed the doors on the way out of the house. An hour later she was just finishing her meal at the golf club they belonged to when she started to worry about Trixie. She had one more drink them headed home. When she returned, Trixie was in bed. He hadn't put the nightie back on, he was still in his bra and panties. She spoke quietly to him but when she got no reply, she assumed he was already asleep. When the alarm went off at the usual time in the morning, Trixie was already up and had put on his old, masculine dressing gown to get Alice's breakfast, the way he always did before she went to work. He put it on the dining room table then returned to the bedroom where he went into the bathroom as Alice was coming out. She spoke to him but he didn't answer, he didn't even seem to see her which she put down to him still sulking. She left for her office and was busy working when Cleone walked in. "Did your wife like his present?" she asked with a laugh. "You realise that there's no way you can contest the will after what you've done to him?" Alice replied, ignoring the question. "You don't think I was ever going to bother about my father giving you a little tin-pot company when I've got all the rest?" Alice believed her. "Anyway, Mr Penhoe, the solicitor told me that I wouldn't stand a chance." "Then why?" "To get back at that husband of yours of course, is he enjoying it?" "I don't think he is," Alice gave it some thought, "to be honest with you, he's been sulking ever since we got home." Cleone told Alice about her earlier relationship with Tony and how he'd not acted very gentlemanly. In other words, he dumped her, but she didn't tell Alice that. "He needs training, why don't you send him to my place for a week, my maids will soon knock him into shape." "I'll think about it," Alice told her. "I came to talk to you about something else, Alice." Cleone pulled up a visitors' chair. "I may not like working for a living, but I'm not stupid, I've seen what you've done to the business here. My father used to run this as a little hobby, it was the first company my grandfather started so it had sentimental attachment but it was running at a loss for years, until Daddy started to use your ideas. I'm not surprised he left most of it to you, it's you that pulled it out of the red. I have two other divisions that are struggling. I'll give you a contract paying you ten percent of their net profits for the next ten years if you can come with me and turn them round." "What about this place?" Alice's interest was peaked. "Delegate. You won't be away all the time after the first week. I suggest that you spend three or four days a week with the others and the balance of the time here, you only need to do it to get them set up, afterwards it will just be a matter of keeping an eye on them. I'll provide you with first class transport and accommodation so you'll have no upfront expenses. Ideally I'd want you to start straight away. You can also think of it as compensation for that wife of yours." "Well, to tell the truth, there's nothing pressing here this week, what about Tony? Sorry, he's Trixie now." "Drop him over at my place this evening and we'll get going right away." With that agreed Alice did have some thoughts about how Trixie was going to cope, but decided that as Cleone wasn't going to be there, it wouldn't be hard on him, in fact it would even give him something to take his mind off his troubles. She had to rethink that a bit when Cleone joked that her Mother would keep him in line because she was a dab hand with a whip, but she was sure a bit of poetic licence was being used. "I'm going to have to be away for a few days for work," was all that Alice had told him when she got home, early in the afternoon for her. "While I'm gone I've made arrangements to help you get over your little problems." At that time, Trixie had started to come out of his stupor and was starting to try to think straight. Alice going away for her work wasn't entirely unknown, but it was rare enough for him to think there was something else behind it. When he was told to come with her, and then she drove them to the Holden family home, he knew his worst fears were confirmed. He told her to leave the car keys with him, he would go straight back home. Three maids came out to meet them, introducing themselves as Jenny, Poppy and Susan, they took Alice's luggage and placed it in Cleone's Bentley, then showed him into the house. Alice ignored his protests. "Someone tells us you haven't been doing your duties properly Trixie." One of the maids, introducing herself as Jenny, the head maid, showed him up the rear staircase of the large house and into a room which he was told was his bedroom. All three of them started to strip him. When they took off his panties they all gasped. "We were told you were a man." Poppy was the first to gather herself. "I am, or I was, that's the reason my mind hasn't been able to concentrate lately, would you blame me?" They asked him what had happened and he gave them a potted version of the story, only outlining the physical changes that had been made but not how badly it had effected him. "Regardless of what you've gone through, and I'm very sorry for that, Trixie," Jenny told him, "we've been told to train you so that you can do your household duties more efficiently." "How long is it I'm supposed to stay here?" he asked. "Until at least Fiday, probably Saturday morning." It was Susan who replied. "Well, I've got news for you." He took a deep breath. "I'm sure you're very nice people, but I have no intention of staying here and if you force me you will be breaking the law." They all laughed, explaining that both the doors of the house were locked and there was no way he was going to get out. "Do you think our Mistress and her Mother have any regard for the local law?" Jenny told him. "They have the law for their convenience, not to control them." While they were talking they were dressing him in a very sexy maid's outfit. It was low in the bodice and very short in the skirt, with a starched apron and a little cap which had ribbons hanging from it matching the black satin of the dress. His panties had been replaced with a g-string. They made their way back down to the kitchen. "Who's living in the house?" he wanted to know. "Mr & Mrs Vine, they're Mistress Cleone's Uncle and Aunt, and her Mother, Mrs Holden. Mistress Cleone is away until Friday," Jenny told him. They started preparing the evening meal. "Pass me the milk out of the fridge," asked Poppy. He took it out of the fridge, noting that there was only one carton in there, nearly full, took the cap of and turned it upside down. Poppy screamed and Susan made a grab for the carton but he avoided her hand until it was empty and the floor was awash with the white liquid. "Oops!" he said. "You did that deliberately," Susan screamed. "I have no doubt I will suffer some sort of painful punishment for that," he told them, "and during the course of that I will be made to promise to behave. I will promise that to stop any pain, but it will be a promise made under duress, so has no meaning. I told you that I will not cooperate." Jenny went running out of the room, returning in a few minutes with Cleone's Mother, Mrs Holden. The Old Man's wife, he could see, must have been quite a bit younger than him when they married, she was now a well preserved fifty-ish woman who he could see was used to getting her way. "What is the meaning of this girl?" she asked. He didn't answer. "You there! What is the meaning of this?" she repeated, looking directly at Trixie. "I'm sorry madam, when you said 'girl' I knew you weren't refering to me, I'm a man." "Don't backchat me, why did you spill the milk?" "I'm sorry for the inconvenience Madam, especially to your maids who I think are very nice, but I'm being held here against my will and I have no intention of cooperating." "We'll see about that," she took hold of his ear and twisted, he screamed and begged her to stop. "Are you going to cooperate?" "Yes, Yes. Please stop." She stopped hurting him and told Susan to take a car to go out to buy some more milk. Then she turned to him. "I trust you've learned your lesson." "Yes Madam, but I'm afraid you are yet to learn yours. Please let me have my car keys I know my wife left them with your staff and I'll be on my way." When she asked him what he meant, Jenny told her what he'd said earlier, that he didn't feel a promise made under duress was worth anything. "We'll see about that, you have no idea how much I can hurt you." With that she stormed off out of the room. They kept him well back out of the way as they made the dinner, Susan laid the table in the dining room once she had run her errand. He asked for the toilet and was shown the staff one just off the laundry room. He did his business then noticed a large plastic bottle of bleach which he picked up and walked towards the main rooms. He found the dining room without any trouble, the door was stood open, and noticed what looked like a very expensive Persian carpet in there of a considerable size. He did a walk right round the table with the bottle, cap off, tilted so that it spilled the contents right round the room. That done he returned the bottle and took his place back in the kitchen. By the time the meal was ready to be served and the diners walked to the dining room, the bleach was working well. The smell was overpowering and the effects immediately obvious, a dirty white stain on the carpet right round the room. There was chaos. Mrs Holden screamed for Jenny, we others followed her to the source of the commotion. "What's happened to my Tabriz carpet?" She was almost hysterical. "I'm terribly sorry Mrs Holden but I did tell you that I wasn't going to cooperate, didn't I? If you just let me have my car keys and..." Trixie was telling her but was cut off by her screaming. He found himself grabbed by the couple with her, while she went to a drawer in the sideboard. They pulled him over the table and Mrs Holden used a large pair of scissors to cut his dress off from hem to top. Then she started to lay into him with a whip, drawing blood after the first two or three overlapping strokes. She worked from the top of his legs to just below his neck, then back again, going over the same areas long after he had stopped screaming with the pain. The maids had the best meal they'd had in a long time as the dining room couldn't be used and the three family members went out to eat in a local restaurant. Trixie saw none of this. He'd passed out on the table and was carried up to his bed, being unceremoniously being dumped there until Poppy came to find him in the morning. He really wondered if he could carry on with his intentions, but he felt he had nothing to live for anyway, so vowed to continue. As he explained this to Poppy he looked at her and could see she was crying for him. She went off to tell the other girls what he had told her and they all realised why he was acting as he was. He was so obviously clinically depressed. Jenny went to see Mrs Holden and passed the story on to her. "I don't know what my daughter's reasons for doing this were," she told Jenny, "but no doubt they were good ones. I think you'll find that any rebellious streak can be beaten out of someone, you'll see, Trixie will be as good as gold today." From the subdued demenour and careful movements that Trixie made once he was up and dressed, it seemed that the lady would be proved correct. It was certainly true that everyone could see how painful it was for him to just wear clothes over his wounds, let alone move at all. On Mrs Holden's orders he was set scrubbing floors. He started in the kitchen then moved on to the large reception hall they had. It consisted of a wide porch area with a stone flag floor and a cloakroom off of it, then a portal, no door, opened into the main hall with a luxurious carpet and trophy cabinets round the walls. A wide staircase wound round the further end of the hall and led to the upper floors. Trixie noticed a long metal strip used for securing shutters when the house was closed up. He took the bar into the hall and found that it fitted behind a huge cabinet with Chinese porcelain in it, so it was quick if rather exhausting work to use the bar as a lever. Once the cabinet started to topple there could be no stopping it. With a huge crash it fell flat onto the carpet, the thick pile of the carpet useless to stop the damage to the cabinet's contents. He didn't try to evade anyone, even though the house was more of a mansion, he would be found eventually. He sat and waited the consequenses. He knew this time his punishment would be so severe that he would pass out quickly. He welcomed that oblivion. He was correct in his assumption. Old Man Holden had a collection of African memorabilia in which was a bull whip. Mrs Holden had his hands tied with rope and the other end tied off to the handrail on the first floor landing so that he was hanging just on tiptoes. He was stripped then she set about him, handling the whip as if she'd been born to it. When he passed out she left him until he came round, then started again. Eventually, by late afternoon, the maids could take no more. They had been upset when they heard what had already happened to him, now they were watching as he was being surely beaten to death. It was Jenny who phoned for the ambulance, advising them that they would probably need to bring the police. They agreed among themselves that they knew nothing about who made the call. When the police and ambulance turned up Mrs Holden told Poppy, who had answered the door, to send them away, but as Trixie was strung up in sight of the front door, she allowed it to open far enough for the officials to see his naked and battered body hanging there. The ruse worked, and Poppy was able to claim afterwards that they had pushed her out of the way. That simple action saved his life. The affair was too serious for the Holden name to be kept clean, there was nothing the friendly Chief Constable could do to sweep it under the carpet once the details were known to police and hospital staff. Trixie was eleven days in intensive care at the hospital. Although her Aunt had phoned her with the news, Cleone told Alice nothing of what had happened, so she returned on the Friday evening expecting to collect him the next morning. She was unpacked and just getting ready for bed when the police called. They took her to the city police station unwilling to tell her anything about what had happened. They wanted her side of the story before she was aware of the consequences. She told them that of course Cleone had gone a little further with Tony's makeover than she would have chosen, but they were all on the best of terms now, Tony was even having a little holiday with Cleone's family while she was away. "Did you send your husband there because he was sulking about his makeover?" the policeman, Inspector Dave White, wanted to know. "Well, yes, but it was also to learn a bit more about keeping a house spick and span," she replied. "Did Miss Holden ask if you minded him being disciplined while he was there?" "I think she did mention it, yes." Alice was getting a little worried now. This wasn't just about the make over. "Did your husband want to stay with the Holdens?" P.C. White was asking the questions carefully. "I didn't ask him." "Did he tell you that he didn't want to stay there?" "He may have." "Did he or did he not ask you for the car keys so that he could drive straight home after dropping you off?" "Yes, alright, he did, but it was for his own good now tell me what all this is about." "Your husband is in the Central Hospital high dependency unit, you will be allowed to see him for a short time but only in the presence of a police officer, not alone, is that clear?" She was shocked when she saw him. Most of his injuries were bandaged, but it was already clear that he was going to be badly scarred. Two deep gashes went across one of his cheeks and a piece of his ear was missing. He was being kept sedated while they treated his injuries but the doctor told her that he would have some movement restrictions for some time, maybe always. He would certainly suffer chronic back pain for the rest of his life. The doctor had been told that his wife had some part in his torture, so didn't mince his words to her. He also mentioned that his breasts had been so badly damaged that they'd been removed, but he'd been told that was a proceedure he would have done anyway. The good news was that they had been liaising with Dr Williams of the Dream Lady Salon, and they'd already been able to restore some function in his penis, it would remain to be seen if it could be completely restored. When he was discharged from hospital he didn't return home. Although he knew that Alice hadn't played an active part in his treatment, he felt he could never trust her again. He divorced her and became a rich man. He was given seventy percent of the assets of the marrige, which was mainly the shareholding in the company his wife had been bequeathed. He received Cleone's remaining shareholding in that company together with a seven figure sum in cash, making him the majority stockholder. From Mrs Holden and her Brother-in-Law, he had a further seven figures in cash and from the Dream Lady Salon he had all his bills paid for his extensive plastic surgery, including repairing the whipping scars as most of the work could be carried out by them in house without them receiving a fee. Both Cleone and her Mother were charged with grievous bodily harm, but an outcry in the press followed when they were each given suspended sentences, as the court accepted that they had been to a certain extent 'provoked'. The Director of Public Prosecutions* was forced to step in and appeal their sentences. They were then each given five years, although they only served two and a half and that in a 'soft' open prison. The company which was left to his wife and she runs on their behalf has gone from strength to strength, the faith Old Man Holden had in her was well placed. The condition the will placed on Tony was quietly forgotten, with everyone's agreement the solicitor deemed it 'unenforceable'. Poppy was a frequent visitor to him as he recovered, and that turned into a romantic relationship. Just over two years later they married. He is now almost one hundred percent recovered and they already have a son, with a daughter on the way. * In England and Wales (Scotland and Northern Ireland have different criminal legal systems) it's not just the offender who can appeal. The D.P.P. has the power to appeal sentences, in exceptional cases, if he feels they are 'unduly lenient'.