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Vanished Into Thin Air free porn video
VANISHED INTO THIN AIR
John Bailey was content with life. He was married to a marvellous
woman, Moira, and after four years they suddenly had a windfall that
only happens to other people, never to yourself. Moira's uncle had
died, don't get him wrong, he was sad that anyone should pass away, but
Moira was working in his multi-million business as his assistant. Now
she was the boss, becoming a majority shareholder.
She ran the company for some eighteen months, then the business manager
retired so she'd asked John to hand in his notice where he worked and
come to join her as her financial adviser. After working his month's
notice, he'd just been for a farewell drink with his colleagues and then
was waiting for his taxi to take him home. He hadn't stayed long as he
wanted to get home before his wife to get their meal ready. It was the
least he could do as she was working such long hours.
A car pulled in to the kerb, he was pleased to note that it was a couple
of minutes early.
"Mr Bailey?" the driver asked.
"That's right," he replied and opened the back door to get in.
It wasn't until he slumped onto the seat that he was aware that someone
else was sat next to him.
"Sorry, I thought this was my cab."
The woman who was sat in there plunged a hypodermic needle into his arm
and he knew nothing more until he woke up, naked and handcuffed to a
bed. He had no idea how or why he got there.
* * * * *
Moira Bailey arrived home, late as usual. She left some time before she
allowed any concern as she knew that her husband would enjoy a drink
after his last day at the office, but come closing time and she
telephoned a couple of his colleagues to find out where he had got to.
As a result of those conversations she phoned the police.
At first, of course, they didn't treat her worries as well founded. It
wouldn't be the first time a husband had left his wife unexpectedly, but
after two days, and a few routine enquiries, it was decided it could be
more serious.
They weighed up the statements that his wife had collected, not the
police you understand, it hadn't been worth their time. However the
fact that he was about to move into a better paid, easier job, hadn't
drawn cash or used his cards to pay for anything and that he was well
known as a hard working but happy man, a pillar of the community, they
started to make their own enquiries.
The first thing the police they were able to do was to track down the
taxi company he had booked a ride with. They were able to confirm that
their cab arrived on time, but there had been no sign of him. A witness
was found that saw him getting into what looked like a cab but otherwise
no description, so no trace of that vehicle could be found.
Having ascertained that his wife had recently come into the ownership of
a major employer in the area, also raised the expectation of a ransom
demand. They belatedly installed recording equipment on her telephones
in the house, office and mobile. No such demand was made.
After two months they removed the equipment. Moira complained that she
seemed to be the only person worried about her husband's fate. Everyone
else just either physically or metaphorically shrugged their shoulders.
There was nowhere to start looking, no leads at all. He joined the
lists of thousands who over the years had vanished into thin air.
After seven months even Moira had accepted that she may not ever see him
again.
* * * * *
Moira bumped into Terri Cox at a local business dinner and they became
firm friends, making a point of going to future ones together as neither
were interested in accompanying one of the mainly misogynistic men who
ran most of the businesses in the region. It was months after her
husband had disappeared that she introduced Moira to Miles Kingston.
He was so different to the majority of the loud mouthed oafs who had
tried to date her now that she was, to all intents and purposes, single.
He didn't ask a lot of questions about her business and its structure,
like so many before him, obviously interested in a take over of that as
well as her. Miles was thoughtful and already obviously a wealthy man,
having bought one of the largest privately owned houses in the area,
employing a cook/housekeeper.
He dated Moira several times, taking her to dances, made her laugh and
listened to her patiently when she tearfully told him about her missing
husband. He wined her and dined her out and about but also at his home,
beautifully decorated with antique furniture, although he explained that
it was his late wife's taste, he preferred a more modern style. The
sort she had in her home.
It was in his bed that they first made love. Moira hadn't had anyone
other than her husband and was, if she was honest with herself, a little
disappointed in her new beau. He had been patient with her, not pushing
her into the bedroom before she was ready, but he didn't have the
consideration in bed that poor John had always shown. Neither was he
quite her husband's size, but he was eventually able to bring her to a
climax, in spite of her worry about being unfaithful to her missing
husband.
Conversations between them gradually moved on to the possibility of him
moving in with her. He explained that he didn't like his house because
mainly of the furnishings but also because it was too large just for the
two of them. However he did offer to bring his cook with him,
explaining that he never had been a very domesticated person and it
would be a way to relieve her of those duties that he knew she did after
her husband left.
Moira thought about things for a month. She decided that she had to
move on with her life and took the first steps to have John declared
dead and invited Miles to move in.
While her house wasn't as large as his, it was still a substantial
Victorian building with three reception rooms plus dining room and
library, six bedrooms and a further suite up in the loft for two staff.
It wasn't until Moira was helping the housekeeper settle into these
rooms that she had any real interaction with her. She'd heard her name
of course, Jenny, but that was about all she knew about a woman that was
going to live in her house.
"How long have you worked for Mr Cox, Jenny?" she asked.
The woman blushed a little, but didn't reply. It occurred to Moira that
she'd never actually heard the cook talk. She noticed a small notepad
hanging on a string from her belt. The woman saw her look at it, then
indicated that she had just understood. She scooped it up and with a
pencil that fitted in the spiral binding, wrote on it and showed it to
her.
'Sorry madam, I'm dumb'
"I'm terribly sorry my dear, I didn't know, have you ever been able to
speak?" she asked.
To her surprise Jenny wrote again, she expected it to be a yes/no
answer.
'Sorry Madam I can't remember'
This threw Moira, had the girl gone through some sort of trauma, she
really looked at the girl for any sign of scarring that might have been
the result of an accident. She had some very subtle scars round her
face, all above the level of her wide leather choker that she always
wore. The marks that she recognised were the result of cosmetic
surgery, she immediately wondered how a cook could afford what was
obviously one or more very expensive procedures. This brought up
another question in her mind that she'd been unable to ascertain.
"How old are you Jenny, did you have an accident?"
'Sorry Madam, I don't know.'
"How did Mr Cox come to employ you?"
Jenny made no attempt to write anything more, she just showed Moira the
earlier answer that she couldn't remember. Deciding that she was
probably embarrassing the woman, Moira helped her unpack and hang up her
meagre possessions but was suddenly surprised to find a box containing
some very theatrical looking French maids' costumes with some bizarre
accessories. As well as some vicious looking corsets there were also
shoes in several colours to match each of the costumes , sporting five
or even six inch heels.
"Do you really ever wear these outfits?" she asked.
Instead of replying, the cook, with a frightened look on her face took
off the simple dress she was wearing to show a tightly laced white
corset underneath. She selected a black and white uniform and with some
difficulty she put it on. At that point something really odd happened.
Thinking that she needed a hand zipping the dress up, Moira leaned
forward with her hand outstretched, but the girl shrank away from her
with her hands clasped as if praying to her. At the same time she
expelled air so quickly that it almost made a quiet scream. She looked
terrified and was vigorously shaking her head in a 'no' direction.
"It's alright dear, I was just going to help you." But as she spoke she
saw that the girl was shaking like a leaf, so much that she could hardly
get the black shoes with five inch heels on her feet.
Moira decided that she needed to find out more about this woman or girl.
"What's your surname Jenny?"
That proved fruitless as all she did was show her the same 'I can't
remember' writing as before. As she replaced the belt round her waist,
Moira noticed for the first time that its circumference couldn't be much
more than eighteen inches, the result of her corseting. She also saw
that the cook walked just as well in the sky-high heels as she'd done on
the previous ones, no more than three inches high.
"Look at me Jenny." Moira took her photograph with her telephone and
resolved to do as much as she could to unravel the mystery of this
person.
To that end, and just to be on the safe side, after all the woman might
be a killer on the run, she slipped some hair out of the Jenny's
hairbrush and into her pocket. During the time she'd been pressing the
police about her husband's disappearance and because she was a person
now of some note in the community she'd become quite good friends of the
Chief Constable for the County, so she hoped the cook's DNA could be
checked against their known rogues. However because of more pressing
demands she was warned it could take some time, then they would
telephone her only if there was a positive result.
"Change back into something more comfortable Jenny, I'll leave you to
settle in."
For the next few days life settled down. Several times Moira was going
to ask Miles about his housekeeper, but the story was so odd, something
held her back. Anyway they were diverted because the Saturday following
Miles moving in he'd suggested they hold a moving in together party,
inviting they great and good as well as her friends and some of her
senior employees. Jenny was kept very busy all week on the
preparations, filling their copious freezers with perishables to start
with, then other things that would keep in their cool larder, all for a
huge buffet table.
The cook was arranging it so that she could handle the evening food and
drink service, without having to hire outside staff. When the evening
arrived, Moira was surprised to see Jenny had put on a lavender coloured
uniform, so short that it showed her panties if she wasn't careful and
so low on her bust that it threatened to be positively indecent. As
well as that, her shoes had at least six inch heels, so high she didn't
know how the woman could walk in them. Knowing the reaction she thought
she might get if she tackled Jenny direct, Moira asked Miles if he
couldn't tell her to put something on that was a little less revealing.
"Oh don't worry about Jenny," he replied to her request, "given half a
chance she'd be a real slag, wearing those clothes is the nearest I
usually get to letting her have her way."
Hardly knowing the girl, Moira wasn't in a position to argue, but from
their earlier limited conversations she thought it most unlikely that
she was a woman of easy virtue. Soon though it was too late anyway, the
guests had started to arrive. Jenny had outdone herself. The food was
admired by everyone during the evening and it was all going swimmingly
when Miles called everyone's attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he called out and everyone quietened down. "As
you all know getting on for the last year has been a difficult one for
Moira. We all hoped that John would turn up, having lost his memory or
something, but it was not to be. I know I'm a poor substitute, but
pending the official word that she is free to remarry, I would ask her,
in front of you all, Moira, will you do me the honour of being my wife?"
He had got down on one knee in front of everyone, holding a ring box in
outstretched hand, offering it to her.
In spite of her agreeing for him to move in, this was not something she
had expected and for a moment she was lost for words. Then a voice in
the crowd shouted out that she should accept, and that call was taken up
by others, not realising that there could be any reason why she
shouldn't. She looked at the ring, it must have been a diamond getting
on for two karats, then she looked at Miles's pleading face. She said
nothing but took the ring and slipped it on the third finger of her left
hand, although she hadn't removed her original wedding band yet.
Everyone cheered and the party went back into full swing.
By midnight most of the guests had either left or were arranging taxis.
Moira was exhausted, not least the emotion of the proposal had exhausted
her. She asked Miles to see the rest of the people, nearly all men at
that stage, safely off the premises. He told her that they were just
going to have a couple for the road, then he'd be up.
"It's almost like a stag night for me my love.," he told her and kissed
her on the cheek.
He rounded up all the remaining males into their library, a fairly
soundproofed room and told Jenny to bring in three bottles of scotch and
a dozen glasses. Having closed the door, he had the girl pour each
glass half full, then ordered her.
"You know what to do now girl."
First of all she shook her head, 'no', but Miles simply threatened her
with a thrashing if she didn't do it. She reluctantly went to the man
to Miles's right, undid his flies and pulled out his tool. She took it
in her mouth and proceeded to give him the blow-job of his life. When
he had done, she moved on to the next one, working her way round the
room. Most of the men's semen she swallowed but some, through mischief,
pulled out and sprayed her with their seed.
One man refused. Moles didn't recognise him but knew he had no close
connection to Moira, so just called him a poof and let him leave, he'd
had enough to drink to think nothing of it. Soon after that there was a
problem. Jenny was about three men into her second circuit when she
gagged, and rushed from the room. Miles followed her to the kitchen
where she threw up in the sink, he passed her to the boot room by the
back door and came back with one of the riding crops that were kept
there.
He laid into the girl's backside, exposed as it was by the short skirt.
She writhed and tried to escape the cutting blows, eventually she did
something she hadn't done there before. She made a series of deep
exhales, convulsed and passed out.
Miles left her be and went to bid the dregs of the party good night,
then without a further thought went to join his intended in bed.
* * * * *
The weeks seemed to fly by. The court decided that Moira should be free
to remarry, perhaps rather earlier than was usual because she knew the
judge in question well. She nearly backed out at the last minute but the
pressure on her from the community looking forward to a lavish affair
was too great. In a fog she found herself drifting up the isle in a
beautiful cream coloured gown, seeing the face of her intended smiling
at her. Everyone was there that had attended her engagement party plus
others as well. She was disappointed that Miles wouldn't let Jenny
attend, saying that she had to have everything ready back at the house.
When the service was well underway though, she heard a slight
disturbance behind her and looked round to see Jenny walking up behind
her wearing her almost obscene costume. The vicar had just got to the
piece where he asked if anyone who objected to the wedding should speak
or forever hold their peace.
"Me!" Jenny called out in a loud clear voice then screamed and
collapsed.
There was pandemonium in the church, Moira's private doctor, Dr
Abrahams, who happened to be seated next to the isle and not far from
where the prostrate form of the housekeeper lay bent over her. He
quickly realised that she had no pulse and smelled burning flesh. He
immediately started resuscitation and shouted for someone to call an
ambulance.
"Finish the ceremony Vicar," Miles ordered but Moira stopped him.
"We can't go on now," she told them.
"It's only my housekeeper, she thought she might marry me, that's why
she's upset my love." But the desperation in Miles's voice showed
something more that Moira couldn't put her finger on.
"We'll make sure she's alright first," she commented and walked over to
where the Doctor was compressing the girl's chest.
Moira saw her notebook hanging from the string so she opened it at the
last entry, seeing shaky handwriting that read; 'Moira's husband is
alive'
When the paramedics arrived and examined her they could barely find a
pulse and as they moved her it stopped. They gave here jolts from a
defibrillator and managed to get it going again and then blue lit the
ambulance all the way to the Casualty Department at the hospital with Dr
Abrahams also in attendance.
Before they left, Moira drew the police attention to the comment in her
book, saying they couldn't go ahead with the wedding until it was sorted
out. The Doctor had also pointed out the electronic control collar
round her neck and healed over scars on her buttocks that he said must
have been the result of a beating.
Moira ignored the pleas of her intended and drove to the hospital as
soon as she could get out of her wedding dress.
She had to wait an age before anyone came to see her and then it was
with two extraordinary pieces of news. The first was that they'd had a
locksmith in to undo the collar round her neck and it was that which had
electrocuted her into unconsciousness and the second was that Jenny
wasn't 'her' at all, Jenny was a man. His bits had been stuck with a
surgical adhesive then mostly pushed up into his body and on the face of
it made to look like a woman's genitals.
She immediately phoned the Chief Constable telling him the news and
asking if they'd had any luck with the sample she'd sent for DNA
testing.
Minutes passed like hours and hours like days while she waited for the
call back.
* * * * *
It really was more than a week before the Chief Constable himself told
her the full story that had come to light.
Miles Kingston was a rich playboy at eighteen, his age of majority,
inheriting a fortune from his parents' estate. Some people thought he
had become hard of feelings for others, because he lost his parents to
an accident at the age of twelve, but those that knew him back then
could have told them that he was always unfeeling, even to the point of
being cruel to anyone weaker than himself. No one who knew him then
would have given an opinion though, because they just didn't remain in
his circle of acquaintances, they had long shunned him.
Being self important he dismissed the advisors that his parents had
appointed to look after his money and chose his own among a bunch of
cohorts he partied with. He saw nothing wrong in bankers and money
market men letting off steam with a bit of coke to go with their Grand
Cru Champagne, even something stronger if they wanted.
He became a millionaire very quickly, unfortunately he started as a
multi-millionaire, so that wasn't quite as good as it sounds. The
remedy that he decided on was to marry well and he got the very best
advice, somewhat by accident rather than design, from a rather sadistic
lady, Terri Cox, who he had got to know. They both enjoyed playing
cruel jokes on their so called friends, taking risks to heighten the
kick they got from hurting others.
This problem that Miles had, put the whole game in a different league
though. She gave it a lot of thought and decided that the first thing
he had to do was to become polite. This took some practice because it
didn't come naturally to him. The next advice was to go somewhere he
wasn't known and build a reputation as a nice person. He sometimes felt
he deserved an academy award, how nice he became.
Terri Cox partnered and mentored him on the understanding of a
fifty/fifty split of the spoils, but she was sensible enough to look
upon the adventure as a long game, continually counselling him to be
patient. It was she who found the ideal target for him in a West
Country town where the woman in question ran the largest business for
miles around.
She studied Moira Bailey for a while, got to know her then explained to
Miles that the woman in question would want a considerate and helpful
person, one that Miles was patently not suited to be. She came up with
the idea that if he had a way being helpful in less direct ways, it
might just work out.
The seemingly insurmountable problem was that she was married and
neither of them, exciting as it might be, wanted a murder on their
hands. What they came up with was the most audacious and at the same
time cruel plan imaginable.
They would change the husband with plastic surgery so that his own wife
wouldn't recognise him. Then they would make it that he couldn't speak
and as a back up told him that if he told his wife what was going on
they would kill her. He was warned that one word from his lips would
result in his death, and then, they asked him, who would look after his
wife then?
It was simple in its aim. He would be married to the money he needed
and she would still have her husband looking after her.
* * * * *
When the police laboratory had compared the DNA they had been sent, they
wrote it off as a mistake. Moira had sent her husband's hair in error,
they already had his DNA on file as a missing person. Once he was in
hospital the situation became clear.
He was still being kept in a comatose state in the Intensive Care Unit
when Moira discovered she had her husband back. It was several hours
before she was able to sit by his side, having suffered shock herself.
Meanwhile the police Scene of Crime Unit went to the house with other
officers in time to catch both Miles and Terri on the point of leaving
with some paintings and jewellery they'd taken.
The man who had refused to take part in the sex act in the library,
after he saw what happened in the church, went to the police and gave a
statement, naming all the individuals in the room, pointing out that
they knew the girl had refused until put under duress. With his
statement all the men admitted their part in the assault, they could
hardly deny it.
When Jenny finally woke he was obviously terrified. Moira quickly told
him that his tormentors were in custody and he no longer had the control
collar on, in spite of the bandages round his neck suggesting otherwise.
"My Darling, my Darling, how can you ever forgive me?" she pleaded with
him and couldn't stop herself from crying even though she was nearly
cried dry.
"You're not to blame, I didn't even recognise myself," he told her.
"I should have waited longer, it's just that there was nothing at all to
suggest you were alive. I missed you so much."
"I was told that if I spoke at all the collar would kill me and if I
told you, they would kill you. I don't know how I survived."
"I can tell you why you survived." A man who Moira recognised as one of
the paramedics at the church was standing over them. "It's down to your
Doctor, another couple of minutes and you would have been dead."
Jenny went on to describe how he had forgotten who he was for a long
time. It was only the stress of seeing the woman who his subconscious
recognised, that it all came back to him. He decided that even though
it would probably kill him, he had to take a chance that speaking in the
church would save his wife, there being too many witnesses present for
them to do anything.
* * * * *
It took months for everything to come to court. Moira appointed a good
London lawyer who went after everyone involved including those at the
clinic who had done the remodelling of John's face and setting his
genitals, which once released were as good as new. Part of their
cruelty was to have him still desire his wife but not be able to have
her. The psychologist's practice that effectively brainwashed him to
forget his past and be terrified of everyone was also traced.
Prison terms were handed out to them all and everyone who had anything
to do with his transformation were struck off. Miles and Terri were
each given eight year terms, the Doctor in charge of him at the clinic
and the psychologist given the same.
In the civil cases seven figure sums were won from the clinic, the
psychologist and Terri, the balance of Miles's fortune amounted to only
a couple of hundred thousand so he was left with nothing by the time he
paid legal bills. The house Moira was told he owned was only rented for
the purposes of the scam. The lawyer was even hot enough to win seventy
thousand from the supplier of the collar.
It took John months to recover and Moira wasn't much different, racked
with guilt as she was. He felt uneasy wearing his old male clothes and
they didn't fit well with his face or body. On psychiatric advice he
continued to wear dressed much of the time. Moira confided in him one
day that she actually felt it was quite a turn on to have sex with a
woman with a penis. When it came time to have his face and body
remodelled, they both were reluctant to say it first, but both decided
they quite liked the girly look.
Back when Moira had taken the first steps to have him declared dead, she
had taken on a replacement accountant. Now they decided to live for the
moment, so she also appointed a senior member of staff as Managing
Director while she remained Chairman and majority shareholder. It meant
they could have the maximum amount of free time together and they took
full advantage of it on a trip round the world.
There was an interesting postscript to this story. Moira had been told
that she would be unable to have children but the autumn of the year
after they got back from their cruise, she went to her Doctor because
she was feeling sick each day. The following late spring she gave birth
to twins. Because of today's relaxed atmosphere towards same sex
couples, John continued to present as Jenny, so the children had two
mothers to bring them up.
Latisha
- 01.08.2020
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