Dont Judge A Book By The Cover
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DON'T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER
Even before we were married Roxy liked to play a little game with me.
At first I didn't like it, only because it felt wrong, but as time went
on and it became more sophisticated, I found my inhibitions vanishing
and I got to actually like it. 'It' was dressing me up in her clothes.
"Time for you to get dressed, Michelle," she would say to me, using the
feminine form of my name Mike. I would then allow myself to be treated
like a life sized 'Barbie' doll, with full make up, my long hair (she
wouldn't let me get it cut) out of it's manly low ponytail to whatever
style she fancied at the time.
Soon after we were married she took me out to a night club dressed like
it for the first time. I thought I would die of shame as everyone
pointed to me and shouted, 'It's a man.' But no such shout happened.
Wherever we went we were accepted as being two women, I wasn't sure
whether to be pleased or upset. Mind you, my disguise didn't lack for
the money spent on it. I came from a family that could be described as
financially comfortable. Roxy's family were loaded. She had a monthly
income from a trust fund that I would be pushed to earn in a year.
There wasn't a problem with her family about their money. They liked me
and the feeling was mutual. Before I proposed to Roxy I asked her
father's permission and, knowing how wealthy they were and her likely
inheritance, I first suggested to him that he prepared a pre-nuptial
agreement. I realised that they would want to safeguard her interests
and the family fortune. While I would have signed anything to marry the
girl I loved, her father's lawyers, at his insistence made the terms
very much less than onerous.
He told me afterwards that he was in no doubt that I was marrying her
from love, but if something went wrong with the relationship, and things
do for a lot of people, he didn't want me to stay with her because
without her I would have nothing. It therefore proposed a generous
settlement for me in the event of a divorce, increased for our years
together. Mind you, the figures involved were nothing compared to the
family wealth, so he was definitely being pragmatic.
Anyway, once their only daughter was married off they went and upped
sticks and retired to the Bahamas where they also had a home. With an
empty mansion at her disposal, Roxy insisted that we move in there, but
when I say empty, I mean empty. When the family were there they
employed two maids, a cook and a cleaning company that came in once a
week to do a deep clean that took about eight people most of the day.
They also cleaned before and after any special events that were being
held. The cook and one maid went with them to the new home and the
other maid retired on a generous pension.
"We ought to think of getting staff, Mike," Roxy remarked as we moved
our modest possessions in.
"Is it worth it for just the two of us, you know I enjoy cooking and
we'll only be using a few of the rooms," was my opinion.
"Well, I'll tell you what we do." I could see a glint in Roxy's eye and
that always meant a mischievous idea. "you're wasting your time at that
job of yours, throw it in and then you'll be able to look after me like
a proper lady's maid should."
I tried to argue but I knew it was a lost cause before I started. Roxy
always got her own way and soon she had the clinching argument. Her
allowance was increased to take into account the running of the enormous
house. The increase she received was huge and made my salary look
positively silly.
"You know I don't like sponging off you," I complained. "I like to feel
that I'm contributing."
"I need your contribution right now, Michelle," She laughed and pulled
me towards the bedroom.
I don't know how her brain works, but she got me dressed in some
beautiful undies, skirt, blouse, the whole kit and made up my face.
Then we spent the next hour and a half ruining it all by having an
extended lovemaking session during which I came three times and between
'ordinary' sex, when I was inside her, and oral, when I was using my
tongue, I lost count of her climaxes. I heard them vary from a shudder
and her catching her breath to full on throaty screams and it was after
the third of those that she called a halt.
"Just think Michelle, we could do this whenever we wanted," she told me
breathlessly, "you know I don't like you going off to work, leaving me
all alone."
Well could you think of a sensible argument to put against that? I
handed in my notice the next day and for the two weeks, Roxy made
appointments for my body hair and beard to be lasered off. It was
around this time I asked her if she thought that she was really a
lesbian.
"Oh yes," she replied without hesitation, "but the trouble is I love
real dicks, I hate those plastic or rubber imitations, that's why I want
you to be my girlfriend. You're very well endowed as a man and at the
same time you look and in some ways behave as if you should have always
been a girl."
It was all spoken with such disarming honesty that I knew it was what
she truly felt. She really loved me, as she'd told me many times, but
wanted a woman companion at the same time. It was only then that I
could understand why she'd chosen me to go out with. You see she was
not only rich, she was gorgeous, the body and face a man might fantasise
about. I am, well I must be honest, a weed. I'm only her height, five
feet seven inches and while her body could be described as lithe, mine,
the same but without the curves, skinny.
That was why, on our first wedding anniversary, we were out celebrating
in an obscenely expensive restaurant, both in evening dresses, mine cut,
like hers, to show off my newly implanted 'D' cup boobs. They were only
implants because hormone therapy might have diminished my definitely not
weedy penis. The clinic did do something to my nipples involving
hormones, just to make them more sensitive, but that was all.
Not only did she have my body altered to be feminine in shape, she
taught me how to act like a woman. Not just the sitting, walking and
hand gestures while talking, but how to flirt and, most importantly, how
to put men off who wanted more than a flirtatious smile, without them
getting angry.
All I've really told you about so far, is what she wanted. The truth of
the matter was that I was at most equivocal when she dressed me the
first time, it did nothing for me, but her reaction itself turned me on
as well. After the third or fourth time I suppose I became like
Pavlov's dogs. They began to salivate when they heard the regular
footsteps of the person feeding them, not just the sight of food, for
those that didn't know the principle.
I began associating dressing up with wild sex that would surely follow.
The clothes therefore became a turn on for me and it wasn't long before
I also started appreciating the wonderful feel of so many feminine
garments. I learned to do my own make up and I quickly became blas?
about going out, even meeting people en femme. I enjoyed being lusted
after. As a man I was barely noticed, as a woman, together with Roxy,
we were often the centre of attention, turning heads as we walked into a
room. From around that time I realised that if Roxy and I were to split
up, I would forever be addicted to getting myself 'dolled up'.
Anyway, I digress. Life in the big house developed along the lines it
had started. My male clothes were relegated to a spare bedroom and I
became my wife's girlfriend. Mind you, I didn't keep my girl clothes in
her room either, they were all in the 'Maid's Room'. We had a
hairdresser call every Friday, along with a manicurist and a masseur,
although they all called themselves 'technicians', presumably so they
could charge more. While we were being titivated the contract cleaners
went through the house, so by the evening the house and we were ready
for whatever we decided to get up to.
Usually we would go out clubbing, or a theatre and a meal, but now and
again Roxy would invite her friends over to party in the house. I was
terrified the first time they saw me in finery, they all knew I was a
man, but any that made a comment only felt I looked a much better woman
than a man, it helped that many of her friends were ambiguous in their
sexuality. Lesbians, I soon realised, formed the majority of her
acquaintances.
The first fancy dress party we held was a little embarrassing for me.
Roxy bought me a French maid's costume and I spent a great deal of the
night serving drinks, much to everyone's amusement. Don't get me wrong
though, all night they were definitely laughing with, not at me. I had
enjoyed myself immensely by the time the night ended.
After I had my implants, Roxy had me dress in that costume again, just
for her benefit, it was elasticated round the top, so by a slight
adjustment, much of my new boobs were on display.
"Prepare my evening meal, Girl," she told me.
I grinned and curtseyed then went off to do what I would have been doing
anyway, getting dinner. What was often different was that while she was
eating, in our big formal dining room, she had me on the floor between
her legs eating her. From that point on, with me snatching odd moments
to eat my own dinner, we spent the entire night having sex, playing with
each other's bodies and only having the occasional nap.
We usually didn't get up until nearly noon the next day.
After that I often found myself in the French maid's uniform. Roxy had
it altered a couple of times, once because she started me wearing a lace
up corset, to reduce my relatively masculine thick waist. After I
complained that it was too uncomfortable, she booked me into her tame
clinic to have my waist reduced and my butt enhanced to give me a yet
more feminine shape. By the time I had healed up, it actually included
the removal of two of my ribs, she measured my vital statistics and
found I was a most acceptable 38-24-36. I made a very shapely maid.
That was our hedonistic lifestyle until just after our second
anniversary, when one Wednesday morning it all went wrong.
Our house, many would call it a mansion, was set in its own grounds that
were so extensive it would have been classified as a park if it had been
open to the public. We employed two outside staff to keep the grassland
tidy and the footpaths through the woods clear of fallen debris. From
time to time we let local farmers bring their livestock over to live off
the grass, but timings were not always right and some cutting was
required.
Because of the occasional contact with these staff, we usually unlocked
the back door, off the utility room, every morning as Roxy always wanted
the staff to feel relaxed when she dealt with them, she hated bosses who
seemed aloof. I suppose she was informal with employees because she had
nothing to prove.
I was just preparing a light lunch when I heard someone walk into the
utility.
"Hi! I'm in here," I called out.
I turned to see four men who I didn't recognise come into the kitchen,
they were all large, but one of them was huge, a veritable man-mountain.
"Who are you?" I demanded, trying to sound authoritative, but not
succeeding very well, dressed as I was in my maid's uniform.
One of them grabbed a knife from the block and held it towards me.
"How many people in the house?" he asked.
"Just two of us," I replied, I couldn't think of any point in lying. He
could see that I was preparing two salads, he would have to be really
stupid if I'd told him there was just me.
"Take me to the other person."
With the other three trailing along, I led the armed man through to our
library, where I knew Roxy was going over the house accounts. The door
was closed so I knocked, Roxy must have thought I was playing the maid
servant and called out for me to come in.
"I'm sorry Mistress," I said with a curtsey, "I'm afraid we have
visitors."
The man with the knife pushed me into the room in the general direction
of where Roxy was sitting. I made an effort and managed to land on her.
"Play along with me," I whispered as we tangled.
"Please don't blame me Mistress, I couldn't stop them." I made myself
sound on the point of tears.
"You stupid girl," she scolded me.
I made a sort of whimpering noise. Since they arrived I knew that there
was no way either of us could overpower them. I reckoned the only
chance would be if I could somehow get them to trust me because although
we seldom even set it, the house had state of the art security systems
that I needed to trip.
"How much cash is there in the house?" one of the other men wanted to
know, the fourth had gone off somewhere.
"Almost nothing, I don't carry cash usually," Roxy told them.
"I found this in the kitchen, Jack." The wanderer had returned carrying
a length of old clothes line.
He went over to Roxy and started to tie her to the carver chair she was
sat on at the desk, binding each of her hands to the wooden arms.
'Jack', who seemed to be the leader of the gang turned to me.
"Is anyone due to visit the house?"
"No Sir, but Mistress's friends call in all the time and they don't make
arrangements first," This was of course a lie, our friends seldom called
without letting us know.
"What's your name girl?" Jack asked me.
"Michelle, Sir."
"Lee, go back to the kitchen with Michelle, have her get some food for
us," Jack told the man that wasn't involved tying up Roxy.
Lee was the quietest of the four. I didn't know whether to look out for
the quiet one, as the old adage goes, or if he was perhaps the most
reluctant of them in their criminal behaviour. I decided that back in
the kitchen I had a chance to find out.
"Are you going to hurt us?" I asked him in a suitably tremulous voice.
I was genuinely quite worried, if they intended to have us I could see
me being very unpopular once they had my gaff off.
"Just do as you're told," he told me gruffly. "Get us something to eat
and none of that rabbit food rubbish, we want proper food, bacon,
hamburgers and chips, that sort of thing."
Suddenly I realised who they were, or at least where they came from.
Our estate was on the outskirts of a village and that was on the
northern boundary of a moor, in the middle of which was a formidable
prison. The building itself, I would think, would be almost impossible
to break out of, but we often saw working parties out on the roadsides,
mainly clearing ditches or occasionally rebuilding dry stone walls round
fields. I knew that only those prisoners that were close to their
release dates and had previous good behaviour were allowed out in these
groups, so hopefully they would just take a few things, then leave.
This obviously wasn't their first call, prisoners only wear orange
jumpsuits and they were wearing normal clothes. Would they really risk
dramatically increasing the manhunt for them if they attacked us? I
could only hope.
I had to find a way to even up the odds and that presented itself almost
immediately.
"Where does that door lead?" Lee asked.
"To the wine cellar, through the second door."
Now that was truthful, but what I didn't mention was that, because of a
perceived probable dampness (it was actually quite dry but below ground
level and not plastered, you know what Health and Safety are like) the
light switch was up in the kitchen. By the time Lee had gone through
the first door, along a cupboard lined corridor for fifteen feet, then
gone through the second door, it was pretty dark. I followed up behind
and at that point hooked my foot behind Lee's trailing leg which caused
him to go off balance forwards.
Down an eighteen feet deep stone staircase.
I ran back to turn the lights on, then cautiously went down to see the
result of my handiwork. He wasn't breathing and there was no sign of a
pulse but it was only as I was trying to find it in his neck that I
noticed it was obviously broken. What a result. I had thought, without
any enthusiasm that I was going to actually finish him off myself, even
though I wasn't sure how, but now it wasn't necessary.
I ran back to the kitchen, got an onion out of the cool larder, cut it
in half and put my fingers to my eyes. They started to water almost
straight away. Then I ran to the room where the others were still
questioning Roxy.
"Come quickly" I cried, with a flood of tears, "there's been a terrible
accident."
I led two of them to where Lee laid, one stayed with Roxy.
"Can you do something for him? Should I call for an ambulance?" By now
years were streaming down my face.
"No!" Jack barked. "Forget it, he's dead."
"I told him about the light switch," I claimed, nearly hysterical, "I
didn't realise he was coming down here right away, I told him I would
fetch a suitable wine for the meal."
"Forget it," Amazing though it was, Jack had bought my story and was
only interested in me returning to get them something to eat.
I left them to it, looking at the bottles in the good collection of
wines, essential for entertaining in a house of this standing. I wanted
to prepare the meal away from prying eyes.
I ignored the request made by my now deceased companion and mixed a
special salad dressing, oil, lemon juice, mustard, garlic, rat poison,
salt, etc., threw it into a bowl with lettuce leaves. I hoped that a
combination of mustard and garlic would disguise the taste of the old
rat poison I think had been in the cupboard since the house was built.
Mind you, it was a hell of a gamble, I had no idea what the rat poison
would taste like, never having tried it.
I quickly placed some cold meat on the three plates I put out then
divided the salad between them. I'd just done that when the men
returned, each carrying a couple of bottles.
"What the hell do you call that?" Jack yelled at me. "I told you to get
us a meal, not get some rabbit food. Now do us a meal."
"I'll have a snack while we're waiting," said the huge man and started
eating the first plate.
While the Jack returned to the library, I got bacon, sausages, black
pudding, beans, eggs and bread prepared and was cooking it as the big
man moved on to the second plate. This got me worried. What I really
wanted to do was to start making them ill, so they would move on but I
couldn't help inwardly grinning to myself.
By the time the unhealthy fry-up was completed, there was a huge
quantity of food, the big man had eaten all of the other meals and now
was looking forward to his main course. At his request I'd cooked extra
for him, so much that I'd had to serve it on a charger plate.
All three men came to eat in the kitchen, making sure I remained there
so not allowing the possibility of me releasing Roxy and us making our
escape. My thoughts about the rat poison, how much it would take to
kill someone and how long it would take (I didn't know the answer to
either question), when Bill, the other normal sized one other than Jack,
complained about the taste of the wine. Jack agreed with him. I took
the bottle and my heart sunk as I saw it was a vintage Nuits St George,
one of my best.
"I'm afraid a Burgundy like this needs decanting before you drink it," I
told them. "What else have you got there?" Bill asked.
Two bottles were a non-vintage Cote de Rhone that I used for cooking so
I opened one of those.
"This is a nice one that doesn't need to settle," I recommended and when
I replaced their glasses with one each of that, they all agreed it was a
far better wine, drank that and the other bottle.
I then learned the name of the big man as they chatted, it was Art,
presumably short for Arthur, when he finally commented that he'd eaten
enough. They all joked about the amounts he ate while I made them the
coffee I'd suggested. I didn't want them drunk if I could help it.
Bill started some horse play then, I didn't catch how it started, I
think it was a rude comment he made about Art's size.
"Comes in handy when a little squirt like you needs to cut down to
size," he had replied.
The two of them started wrestling, a dangerous occupation for me, being
only half the size of the smaller one, as they threw each other around
the room. It was admittedly big for a kitchen, but small as a wrestling
ring with me in it as well. Bill finished it by punching Art in the
stomach, not something he relished after his four meals.
"Aaww, shut up you stupid bastard, that hurt." He sat back down on his
chair to drink coffee like the others.
He only had a couple of sips though before I noticed that he'd turned
quite pale. They sat there for some time and I had to make more coffees
which they actually thanked me for. I had noticed that from the time
Lee had his 'accident' they weren't so full of ordering me about.
Suddenly Art put his hand to his mouth and just made it to the sink
before he threw up. Both he and I looked in horror as a large
proportion of what was in the sink appeared to be blood.
"I don't feel very well," he said, then to Bill, "I think you've
buggered my guts."
I suggested he went and laid down for a while and he went along with the
idea so I directed him where he could find a bedroom with a made up bed,
giving him a bowl and a towel to take with him. I didn't want him in
ours, we'd have to fumigate it afterwards. I hoped that I knew what was
happening, the rat poison is a blood thinning agent, causing rats to
haemorrhage to death and if I was right they were now down to two.
I now had another problem though. Bill was obviously feeling full of
himself and as I refilled his cup he grabbed me and pulled me onto his
lap.
"Come on Girly, you've been teasing us since we arrived, give me a
kiss."
"Please Sir, I'm not that sort of girl."
I didn't know anything to say that would put him off, and neither did
that. He held my chin between two fingers, forced my mouth open and
then kissed me, tongue and all. I tried to wriggle away but he was far
too strong for me, the next thing I knew his hand was down under my bra,
feeling my breast quite harshly. I had more or less expected to be
attacked ever since they first walked in, but things had been a lot
calmer recently and the thought had left my mind.
"Please let me wash your friend's sick away, the smell of it is making
me feel ill," My guess was correct, he didn't want me being sick myself,
at least while he was being passionate.
Once I'd done that I decided to take a chance. The way things were
going they were certain to find out pretty soon that there was something
extra in my panties.
"Sir," I spoke to Jack, knowing that he was really in charge, "when you
leave here, would you take me with you?"
"Why, do you want to see the world, Girl, or have you fallen in love?"
"What I'm about to tell you is very embarrassing to me." I hesitated as
if I was about to cry. "You see, the woman in the other room isn't my
Mistress, she's my wife."
They both looked at me as if I was about to tell a joke.
"It started as soon as we were married, she secretly fed me hormone
pills, then she tricked me and got control of my family estate here. If
I stay, she'll have me operated on and make me a complete woman, then
she can divorce me, leaving me with nothing," I finished by sobbing and
breaking down.
"You're a bloke?" Bill asked not believing what he heard.
"You heard what he said," Jack looked at me as if I had a deadly
disease.
I realised that Bill was about to hit me, he obviously didn't like that
he'd just kissed a man. Jack stood up and pushed him away, Bill
resisted and when he continued to push punched him. Jack reeled back
then countered with a strong upper cut of his own, sending Bill to the
floor, enabling him to garb Jack's legs and over balance him.
As soon as Jack was off his feet, Bill jumped up and grabbed a the knife
I'd been using to cut the bread for their meal and seeing the danger
Jack was in, and reckoning him to be my protector, I took the carving
knife from the block and threw it to him. The fight lasted for the
longest seven or eight minutes of my life before a quick flick of the
wrist from Jack sliced across Bill's throat. The result was a horrific
death for him as blood spurted almost across the room from the punctured
artery.
As Jack stepped back to survey the scene I reselected the long, thin
fish filleting knife from the same block and with all my strength
plunged it down at about forty five degrees into the back of Jack's
neck. It severed his spinal cord and he died almost instantly. I
selected a smaller knife and went to find my wife.
The bastards had sliced open her blouse and bra, exposing her breasts
and she had obviously been crying. I cut the ropes from round her.
"What's happened, have they gone?" she wanted to know.
"Sorry, no, I had to kill them."
It took actually seeing each of the bodies before she'd believe me.
"How did you do it?" she wanted to know and hugged me.
I had to repeat my story several times to her and three different police
officers, none at all would believe me until they'd seen the evidence
with their own eyes. At one stage it looked as if I would be charged
with killing them, either murder or a lesser but still serious charge
and I had to wait nine weeks before I heard that the Director of Public
Prosecutions was not going to proceed, it 'not being in the public
interest'. Perhaps the presence of one of the best lawyers in the
country, sent for by Roxy's father as soon as she asked him, may have
had something to do with it.
Of course I'd changed into my male clothes by the time the police had
arrived, they felt strange to wear after what had been some time since
I'd put them on, but I could hardly admit I'd presented to them as a
French maid. It was especially uncomfortable to wear bandages over my
breasts to keep them out of sight, another source of worry to me if I'd
had to spend any time in detention.
As it was the newspapers went rather overboard with their support for
me, the escaped prisoners had all been convicted of multiple violent
offences and many questions were asked why they were allowed on outside
working parties. Apparently their escape was planned in advance to the
extent that clothes were left stashed for them but the rendezvous with
the transport to get them away had gone wrong.
Once it was all sorted out we quickly got back into our routine but
there was just one more embarrassment for me.
I'd just served my 'Mistress's' afternoon tea in my best lilac uniform
when there was a knock on the door. I had no hesitation in opening it,
but imagine my horror when who should be standing there but my Mother
and Father-in-laws. I didn't think they recognised me at first until I
showed them into the sitting room where Roxy was having her tea.
"Two more tea settings please Michelle," she instructed me, then started
to explain that Mike, her husband was away at the moment.
"Don't take us as stupid, Roxy," her Father told her.
"My dear," her Mother added, "you don't suppose we aren't aware of your
domestic arrangements, do you dear? Make that three teas and come and
join us... Michelle."
They explained that being several thousand miles away from their
daughter didn't preclude them from keeping an eye out for her. They'd
known almost from the start about our lifestyle, just working on the
assumption that so long as Roxy was happy, that was all that mattered.
They even knew when I'd had my breast enhancements.
"Mike, Michelle, whatever, I don't care." Her Father took me by the
hand. "I always thought that men who had your, what shall we say, hobby
of yours, were wimps, not manly. You've looked after my daughter when
she needed it in a way that I doubt I would have been able to do. Thank
you so very, very much."
Roxy's Mother stood and hugged me.
"It just goes to show what a mistake those men made, judging a book by
its cover," she told me.
Valentina
- 02.08.2022
- 17
- 0
