Matrimony. (A 'Making Dreams Come True' Companion Volume.) free porn video

Do not try this at home! And don't read it if you are under eighteen years old as it is a story written for adults and not kiddies and contains words of a sexual nature that you will misunderstand. Although this story is set in the same Universe as my 'Making Dreams Come True' stories and features some of the same characters and locations, you do not need to read them first as this one is "free-standing". Matrimony. A 'Making Dreams Come True' Companion Volume. by Writer345© 1. Prelude to Change. It must have been brewing for sometime even though it was one of those ideas that seem to spring into the mind fully-formed. Thoughts, such as this can, however, be very deceptive and are often a surprise to the mind into which they spring. I'm Irina Ermakova, by the way and at thirty-five last birthday, I seem to have convinced myself that I am getting old. It was another beautiful spring morning that I awoke to face, I stretched, savouring the feel of the satin sheets against my naked skin, I usually sleep like that, except in the middle of the winter - mind you it doesn't really get cold here. How different life was to my childhood in Akademgorodok: there, we couldn't afford sheets of any description. Silently, I gave thanks to God as I always did upon waking: things could be worse, much, much worse... I could still be living in Akademgorodok and I could still be broke: so yes! Things could definitely be infinitely worse. What would I have if I had stayed in Mother Russia? If I had stayed in Akademgorodok? A two room apartment and a dead-end job in some University or other in a country run by the twat, Putin and his everything-phobic cronies. It was all too terrible to contemplate: life in England was better, here everyone is too polite to let me know if they are snooping on me. I stretched again and spread my arms and legs in an attempt to fill the whole of the king-sized bed. I was alone, my 'companion' of the night before had departed when I fell asleep after fucking her. All of my 'pets' were instructed to leave before Mistress awoke. Sure I enjoyed their 'company' before I fell asleep: but I preferred to wake-up alone. My pets all know what I am: indeed, some of them are the same, but I am 'Mistress' and my word is law in my household. One of the things that I insist on is to be allowed to collect my thoughts in solitude: or at least I had until now. For some reason things things felt different that morning and I needed someone to cuddle. Is this all there is? I thought. Me waking up alone every morning for the rest of my life? Maybe it's time that I got married. Shocked, I froze... Where did that idea come from? I stretched for a third time but this time I opened my eyes only to be momentarily dazzled by the sun that streamed in through one of the bedroom windows. I grimaced - at least it was sunny. England, where I was now living, was usually wet, or so I had been led to believe when I had moved here five years before. Still, wet or not the climate was mild and pleasantly warm although, if I was honest (which I seldom am - I'm a banker after all.) I would admit to missing the freezing, bitter Siberian winters in much the same way that I missed agonizing toothache following a visit to a good dentist. I slid out of my King-sized bed: the satin sheets offering no resistance to my smooth bare skin as I did so. I stood and ran hands down my body caressing first, the firm and shapely D-cup breasts with their large areolae and jutting nipples. Next I moved on down to grope my well- padded arse before feeling my side-hips and finally grasping the erect six-inch cock that jutted out from my groin:I stroked it off a couple of times and felt my balls jiggle in their soft floppy sac as I did so. I smiled. Life was indeed good here in my English home. I ambled across the bedroom to the chest of draws where my underwear lived, and felt my morning erection jouncing as I did so. I smile as I selected a matching informal set of powder-blue silk bra and matching panties. Then staring at my erect cock, I willed it soften and go limp, but being what it is, it took absolutely no notice as it seemed to stare, one eyed, right back at me from the mirror... My friend and employer, Helena Yorke who is of the same modified gender always describes herself (and all of us women who are like her) as 'shemales' although I do not particularly like the term because of its 'sex-trade' implications. When I mentioned this to her she had laughed and said that I should always trade on my sex as it was my most potent weapon. The morning erection was the main reason that I insisted on waking alone. It wasn't embarrassment, well not exactly, it was more that I hated being seen as not totally in control of my own body. No, I am not a 'control-freak', or at least, I hope that I am not, but I dislike others seeing me lose control. Sure, I could make good use of it by pushing it into some girl's willing arsehole, or pussy (if she happened to have one) but there usually wasn't time as I had to get ready for work. Sex is fantastic but it is time-consuming, and time was something that I didn't have most mornings. When I had finished showering I slipped the silk panties on and arranged my now flaccid organ, together with its 'accessories', so that they did not make an obvious bulge. This morning was informal, so a gaff or even tape were unnecessary. Then, when I was satisfied that I had achieved smooth, feminine contours, I rang for my maid to come and help me dress and assist with my make-up. There was a soft knock on the door a minute of two later just before a girl entered my bedroom. Alicia, dressed in her traditional black maid's uniform, complete with little white apron and cap, bobbed a little curtsy and proclaimed, "Good morning, Mistress." I grunted my usual reply in Russian without turning to face her, instead I continued to examine myself in one of the room's many mirrors. "Smart casual this morning, Alicia." Then, as the maid began to scurry around assembling my morning's outfit I stared into the mirror and a familiar squarish face, with its pageboy- styled ash-blonde hair, stared right back: its ice-blue eyes looking right into mine. I poked at my face as I examined my reflection anew. Is that a spot? Yes, this morning would be spent at home, mainly in relaxation - what's the point of having money if I don't enjoy its benefits occasionally? This afternoon I was required at the premises of "McCorqudale & Yorke", the Merchant bank for whom I worked. As my afternoon was scheduled to include a rather difficult meeting I was determined to make the most of this morning. * * * They were a married couple, him in his early forties, his wife about ten years younger, Albert showed them into my office and I invited them to be seated: two chairs having been placed in front of my desk for this purpose. I looked up from the file that I had been reading and greeted them with my best disarming smile. "Mr Holloway... Donald..." I began hesitantly while the man seated in the slightly less than comfortable chair opposite my desk began to squirm. "I am afraid that I cannot see a way out of your current financial predicament." I paused and watched him turn somewhat pale: or rather turn even paler than he had been already. His weak chin began to bob up and down and he seemed almost tearful as he tried to answer. "I - I..." he began but got no further. Instead the woman, the stunningly attractive woman, seated next to him leaned forward. "What?" she interrupted forcefully. "Our company is a going concern - it's profitable, for Christ's sake. Doesn't that count for something?" When she was sure that she had my full attention she continued with, "We've got a full order book and some very good people working for us. If it wasn't for this slight difficulty, I'm sure that you wouldn't have insisted that my husband should come to see you." Her voice was as striking as her face, which although a little on the square side was never-the-less quite beautiful, framed as it was by cascades of rich chocolate-brown hair that complemented her good looks. The woman's mouth carried on moving but I missed whatever it was that she was saying. My gaze drifted down to the ample breasts hidden by the expensive charcoal-grey tailored top. "I... I'm sorry, could you run that past me again please, Mrs Holloway." She blushed slightly, clearly she had realised what had distracted the strange Russian woman seated behind the desk: she knew exactly what I was gawking at but said nothing as she well knew that I represented the only hope that their family-owned business had. She continued, her melodious contralto voice betraying no annoyance, "I was just saying how we have a full order book and that our problem is merely one of short- term cash flow." I nodded sympathetically. "So it would seem, Ma'am, so it would seem." I picked up a sheet of paper and made a show of reading it - anything to distract me from the vision of feminine perfection I had been staring at. I ram a finger around the inside of my collar, was it me or had my office suddenly become very warm? "So, as it is just cash-flow, then surely the bank can see its way to granting us a bridging loan to tide us over?" Mrs Holloway continued hopefully. She was here in her capacity of Company Secretary and she was definitely shrewd: much more so than her husband. I hardened my heart. "I see here that the recently-defunct Carillion Group owes you fourteen million pounds. Is that not so?" I watched the woman squirm. "Well yes, but we are just waiting for a settlement by the Official Receiver - when we get that payment, we'll be okay!" I sighed: we had been lucky when Carillion had collapsed and had only been out by a couple of million - the merchant banking equivalent of 'small change' but other Banks, particularly the German ones had really taken a major hit. I knew just how silly Carillion's board had been and just how little there was to cover their liabilities. I looked at the woman seated opposite and felt my heart flutter... For some reason I did not inform the Holloways that any payments that they might receive from the Official Receiver regarding Carillion's debt to them would be in the region of 0.1 or 0.2p in the pound. In other words, their fourteen million would be settled for between ten and twenty thousand pounds - if they were lucky that is, for the tax-man, as always, would be right at the front of the queue and they were usually paid in full. Suddenly my mouth began to utter words that took my brain completely by surprise. "You already have been the beneficiaries of a sizeable lone over the last few months, Mrs Holloway, but as your Company is an old and valued client of ours, naturally McCorqudale & Yorke will do whatever it can to help you through this difficulty. Leave it with me and I will attempt to draw up a rescue package." The pair of them seemed to brighten and Mrs Holloway rewarded me with a beaming smile. Yes, the bank would do what ever it could and from where I was sitting I knew that that the help forthcoming would be practically zero - because we were a bank, not a charity! I also knew that they were facing a hefty tax bill themselves, so there was little point in us bailing them out. I looked at them both and gave them my best reassuring smile. "So, just to clarify things: you wish for the Bank to rescue your company and do what ever is needed to keep it trading?" Nodding, they both willingly agreed. "Yes," the man confirmed, "just do whatever it takes and we'll cooperate!" When I showed the pair of them out, they were still thanking me: I had given them hope and in return I as rewarded with a fantastic view of Mrs Holloway's arse as she undulated her way along the corridor. As I closed my office door I sighed loudly. All that remained was for me to justify my actions to Helena who wouldn't be happy that I had strung the Holloways along but that wouldn't be until the end of the week - today was Monday, surely I could think of something between now and then? Something would be bound to turn-up... Well, wouldn't it? For some reason, Donald Holloway's final sentence lodged itself in my mind. He didn't know it at the time: but those were words that he might well come to regret. 2. Ideas And then, all of a sudden, it was Thursday and I was still sweating about tomorrow's review meeting with my employer. She liked her staff to behave in a professional manner while I had virtually drooled all over a customer's wife. I was sure that Helena was going to be more than a little displeased by the way I had handled things - an account manager need be more detached. Oh, she wouldn't scream and shout, she wouldn't lose her temper and bang the desk with her fist - in fact I had never known her to get angry, not once, not ever. "Never lose your temper, dear, it's a sign of weakness," she had once advised me when she had seen me begin to lose my rag. Advice that I have since tried to follow. No! It would be easier if she did get angry: then, being Russian, I could scream and shout back and believe me: no language is as well- suited to hurling invective as is Russian. It has a greater range of obscenities even than English. But no! She would just look at me and her shoulders would slump ever so slightly while her expression and body language emphasized just how much I had let her down. There would be a pause and then, over coffee, she would dissect my actions, thoughts, conclusions and mistakes with forensic precision, laying them out in great detail over the next half hour. She would then, smile warmly and make 'suggestions' as to what I might consider doing to rectify the situation. I would come out of the meeting feeling about six inches tall and with a lot to think about - no doubt regarding my ill-fated attempts at trying to mix business with pleasure! She was going to make me squirm, to my tortured and free-wheeling mind, facing anger and abuse was much, much easier than facing polite, thoughtful criticism. Needless to say, Thursday morning passed slowly: mainly because I was dreading Thursday afternoon. Ah yes! It as the third Thursday of the month which meant that I would be attending one of Helena's soir?es. Ms Yorke was always 'at-home' on the third Thursday afternoon of every month and was happy to receive visitors. This was an old British social custom, beloved by the upper classes and one that dated back at least to the seventeenth century. Helena, and her daughters, would receive and entertain any visitors who might casually drop-in. However all of the ladies who would attend had one thing in common - they were all members of the informal group known as 'The Circle' and what a group it was with a membership consisting solely of gold-star lesbian slave owners. Okay, the group didn't officially exist: there as no formal membership list and women had to be invited before they were allowed to join but even so, it was a club that could not exist. Needless to say, Helena had sponsored my membership - I have half a dozen girls who are my pets, maids or slaves - remember? I arrived at about two and, as usual, was shown into Helena's sitting- room: here I was cordially greeted by the lady herself. I looked around and exchanged smiles with several of the half dozen or so other guests and began to circulate to exchange news gossip and innuendo. - "I see Melissa is not here - hiding, is she?" - "No she is out of the country. They say she's moving to Brazil because there are plenty of girls there, just for the taking." - "Have you heard about, Julia? She's trying to get a couple of lady- boys from Thailand." - "I've got one - they're not all that they are cracked up to be!" - "Care to sell her to me? I've always fancied owning one. Go on! I'll give you a good price. - "Have you seen the troll that Angela has just acquired - paid a fortune for it, she did." - "Yes, I've seen it: the damned thing looks like a truck-driver in drag - has the manners of one, too." - "Still she always did prefer big, rough-looking girls - she just loves to dominate them!" - "I've heard that she just keeps them sedated." - "How much did you pay for that little Japanese doll?" - "She wasn't cheap, let me tell you!" - "No my two weren't either." And so on. The conversations were designed to score points and to determine just who was on the way up or indeed, down. The women weren't exactly friends but then again we weren't quite enemies, either. I suppose 'competitors' would be a better way of describing us. We were a group of women who were hell-bent on dominating everyone and everything, including each other. I looked around and smiled pleasantly: these were women that no one ever wanted to fall-foul of. Genteel, cultured and dressed to impress: dresses and skirts were in fashion again, or so it would seem from the gathering. Actually this suited me as it was much easier to hide embarrassing 'equipment' beneath the folds and billows of a dress as they did not have to be tailored and fitted in the same way as slacks or trousers. Believe me: I wore a dress precisely for the same reason as at least one of other visitors did. That's one of the positive sides of the group - they weren't trans-phobic: a woman was a woman, as far as 'The Circle' was concerned: cis- or trans-, were all treated with equal disdain. As the afternoon progressed I had a quiet word with our host as I felt somewhat overwrought by the ordeal that I was facing, which I am sure that she sensed. I broached the subject of tomorrow's meeting and tried to apologise for mixing business with pleasure but she had smiled and said that I was not to worry and then admitted that she "did it all of the time." "I don't know what came over me!" I said, trying to sound very contrite. She smiled again. "Oh I do. The details are all in a photograph on my desk at the bank. She's a double 'D' isn't she? Lovely face with a nice arse, and intelligent too, very intelligent. She played you like an expert. Her husband's a bit of a limp dick but she's definitely the one in charge in that relationship: I think it's what they call an FYM." I looked at her. Yes, Mrs Holloway had definitely taken the lead during our little meeting. Still if Helena wasn't overly concerned by my actions, perhaps things hadn't been as disastrous as I believed. Either that or she was trying to put me at my ease or let me down gently - oh, help! I must really have messed things up. I looked around and tried to spot a familiar face: someone who wasn't going to judge me for the failure that I clearly was. Ah! There was someone new so I moved across the room towards her. She was a small Indian woman of indeterminate age and not much above five foot tall. I introduced myself and learned that her name was Ishana. "I've not seen you at one of these functions before," I commented. "This is the first one of these that I have attended," she admitted looking up at me with doe-like hazel eyes. Eyes that never-the-less seemed to bore right into me. "Enjoying things?" I asked, for want of something to say. She had smiled. "It's a little overwhelming." Which was an odd thing for a Mistress to say and should have put me on my guard, but she did look small and inoffensive. She frowned prettily and asked. "Tell me,who is that very tall, beautiful blonde, the one with long, flowing hair?" I smiled. "That's Helena Yorke: this is her home, she's our host." "Ah!" she said, almost sighing as she turned and move casually towards my employer. I shook my head and began to circulate again. I didn't get very far before I was intercepted by Margaret Baxter who was one of the friendlier, more approachable members of 'The Circle'. "I see you have met the Princess." She chuckled. "Who?" I said blankly. Margaret smiled knowingly. She was in her early fifties and did not bother trying to hide her age, instead, if anything she cultivated her image of a mature, grey-haired matron. "The Princess Ishana: she's probably the richest person in the whole of the Kerala State in India." She said knowingly. "She is over here on a buying trip." "Oh?" I said, probably sounding more dense than I intended. "I believe that she is aiming to acquire some more very tall girls and I know for a fact that she won't consider anything under six foot tall." So that was why she had been so taken with Helena...! By now I was intrigued. "What sort of girls?" Margaret leaned a little closer and her manner became very conspiratorial. "She's not fussy as long as they have fantastic figures and are very tall, currently she is looking for blondes or red-heads. She has them modified too." "Oh?" I asked. "She has their Achilles tendons shortened so that they need to wear six- inch heels at all times. She dresses them in teddies and nylon tights..." She noticed my blank expression. "Teddies... They're the figure- hugging satin leotards that bunny-girls wear, except that hers don't have the ears or tails... "Imagine!" she continued. "A palace full of voluptuous Amazons, all well over six-foot tall. Everyone of them dressed in figure hugging garments, tripping around in very high heels, they all have beautiful long flowing hair and are all psychologically conditioned to be lesbians and to adore their Mistress." I did and began to get a prominent erection! Margaret may have noticed for she chuckled and continued. "They say that she owns something like thirty, but then she can afford their upkeep! She has all sorts, but would like more from the far east - tall Asian women aren't exactly common, are they, Irina?" By now I must have looked at least a little starry-eyed as I imagined the sight that Margaret was describing. A dreamy, "Wow!" was all that I could manage to come out with. "Oh if she can find tall, delicate featured males who show potential then she'll take possession of them too and have them, er, re-modelled surgically, sexually and psychologically," Margaret continued. "This includes full GRS - everything that could produce unsightly bulges in their figure-hugging costume is surgically removed. She's even had shemales operated on in the pursuit of her version of feminine perfection." Once again, "Wow!" was all that I could come up with. By now afternoon tea was being laid out by Helena's pretty, but silently efficient maids, so I excused myself and seat myself next to the only other Russian present: the redoubtable billionaire oligarch, Ludmilla Carbonova. In some ways I envied her as she still lived in Russia and owned a large estate somewhere near the Chinese border. She owned other things too including, some claimed, a chunk of the Government and she certainly counted the rat, Vladimir Putin, amongst her extensive list of personal friends. I had tackled her about how she could bear to be near the obnoxious git and she had given me a carnivorous smile before commenting that 'friends should be kept close but enemies even closer'. I suppose it was because we were both Russians that she had taken me under her wing when I had first joined 'The Circle' and advised me about what not to say or do. Ludmilla had also helped me acquire a couple of my pets. She and I were actually on first-name terms and I regarded her as a friend - a state of affairs that I fervently hoped that I would not come to regret. As tea-sipping began it was accompanied by tiny sandwiches and little cakes that were all daintily nibbled, I happened to mention to Ludmilla that I was thinking of settling down and getting married. "I was once, husband was total ass-hole!" she said gruffly, her Russian accent re-emerging to emphasise her displeasure. "You were married to a man?" I blurted out in surprise before clamping my hand over my mouth thinking that I had gone to far. "Don't blame me, I was only sixteen, blame my parents! Besides, only lasted three years." She chuckled nastily. "Oh?" I enquired: intrigued despite my better judgement. "Yes, drunken bastard was killed in motorbike smash... Which was really odd because he was asleep in bed at the time." She shrugged. "Served the bastard right because he saddled me with two useless boys." The small dark woman who was seated on the other side of Ludmilla had been listening and could no longer contain herself. She interrupted our informal conversation by giggling as she enquired, "How are your sons, Madam Carbonova?" Ludmilla gave a throaty laugh. "Much better now that they are my daughters, thank you. They are really making their Mama proud now that I've paid for a full GRS for both of them." The conversation paused as we both took a sip of our tea and then it became my turn to answer questions. "Tell me, Irina," Ludmilla enquired pleasantly returning to my throw away remark regarding my marriage 'plans', "just whose wife are you thinking of taking?" Suddenly, completely unbidden, an image of the beautiful Mrs Holloway sprang into my mind. I smiled... If only I could! The image was soon joined by tiny fragments of an idea. A crazy idea. I'd need help with this one: expert help. More evil little thoughts crystallized out and joined the first few and within seconds I had an outline plan. Hell it could work! Where those wedding bells that I could hear? Now where could I find a lying, dishonest lawyer? That's an easy one - almost anywhere! Suddenly tomorrow's meeting no longer filled me with foreboding and I was quite able to relax and enjoy the remainder of Helena's at-home. 3. Plans are Laid. When I retired quite early that night my sense of foreboding had completely gone. I may have gone to bed early but it was not because I was feeling tired, so after I had showered and slipped in between the smooth satin sheets, I turned down the lights and pondered just who I was going to fuck... Oh, it would be a fuck and a rough one at that as I was feeling far too horny for any of the more gentle forms of love- making. I Lay back and stared up at the textured ceiling and at the shadows that the bedside lights threw across it, Would I call for Paula with her tight pussy and fleshy backside? Or how about tall, slim Alicia with her small, firm tits? Then there was Lorinda, plump and cuddly, that one, a real cuddle-bunny. No, I was feeling randy so there was only one choice... I reached across and picked up the bedside phone. "I want to fuck Suki so tell her to strip off and lube-up," I said without wasting any time on pleasantries. Yes, it had to be Suki... And within five minutes I heard the door gently open and closed and this was followed shortly by a movement of the mattress as she slipped in under the sheets and slid across to here I was lying eager for her company. "Usual way, Mistress?" she purred, her seductive voice soft and expectant. "Usual way, my darling," I confirmed and felt the bed move again as she rolled onto her side with her back towards me. I ran my hand down her flank and stroked her soft velvety skin. She quivered as she felt me slip my left arm underneath her and use it to grasp her waist. Gently I let my free hand wander and explore her arse, I quickly found her pucker which had seen a lot of use and was quite loose. I eased a finger in and heard her moan so I leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. "Ready?" "Oh yes, Mistress!" she cooed. She had scarcely finished answering when, I slid my erect cock down the fold between her cheeks and then eased it into her welcoming arsehole. The moan that this elicited was music to my ears and told me just how much she enjoyed anal sex. I eased forward and felt her push back as I did so which is why I had chosen Suki - not only did she enjoy having her arse fucked but she didn't just lie there - she joined in and matched my my thrusts with movements of her own. When I felt her arse up against my belly I pulled back slowly and she relaxed at the same time - then it was thrust forward and ease back as I set up a rhythm of love, or rather, of sex. Each thrust causing her to gasp: not the sort of silly squeals that the porn stars come out with in their ridiculous little videos, but sudden gasps that sounded like small explosions of breath. Thrust in - pull back. Thrust - in pull back. Her well-lubricated arsehole loose and welcoming as it gripped and massaged my cock firmly enough to increase my arousal. Thrust in - pull back. Thrust in - pull back. The dance went on. I reached around with my free hand, the one that wasn't hugging her around her waist , and pressed it onto her crotch from above. I felt her tiny flaccid cock move and slide around as I rubbed at her in time with my thrusts - she moaned and grabbed my hand with hers as she made sure that I kept it there pressing against her castrated little tool that had once been a fully functioning male sex organ. I had six inches to fuck her with while she had about two to play with. Even though she was a shemale, she had been castrated and this had caused her penis to atrophy over the years... Oh, it was a sensitive little nubbin, which was why I was rubbing it while I fucked its owner. But it was tiny and all that she could use it for now-a-days, was to piss through or play with. The dance continued and my thrusts became harder as I slammed myself against her arse each time. Thrust in - pull back. Thrust in - pull back. Thrust in - pull back. Her moans had become louder now, and were turning into yelps. Yelps of sheer pleasure. Yelps to which I added grunts. Thrust in - pull back. Thrust in - pull back. Thrust in - pull back. Suddenly she began to buck as she orgasmed and just as suddenly I came and ejaculated squirt after squirt of my liquid love into the depths of her willing and eager rectum. I could feel her miniature tool quiver in my hand as she came, dribbling her little load over my fingers as she did so. My orgasm seemed to last for almost a minute as I spasmed and ground my belly against her well-padded arse. Oh, Suki, you really love this, don't you? Gently I eased back and felt my rapidly softening cock slip out of her wonderful arsehole. Then, as we both relaxed I squeezed her little organ which I was still grasping and began to stoke it backwards and forwards with my finger and thumb. Suki chuckled. "It doesn't work, you know, Mistress." Oh course it didn't work! I had made sure of that when I had arranged to have her castrated five years before. Transforming a handsome teenaged boy into a beautiful female sex-slave is a long and costly process and most are castrated to make them docile and easier to train and handle. The team that had turned Samuel into Suki had done a first- rate job and quite frankly she was well worth the ?40,000 that her treatment had cost me. She rolled over and hugged me to her, kissing me enthusiastically as she did so. She was a loving little thing, a real cuddle bunny. Actually, at five foot ten, she was not so little, but what the hell? I didn't care - she was mine to use however and whenever I liked and I really did like her. I liked all of my pets and they loved me back. They had been conditioned too, after all. Oddly enough, even though I was lying in my beautiful girl's arms: the last thing that I remember, before drifting off to sleep, was a memory of Mrs Holloway. * * * It was about ten o'clock the following morning when I knocked on Helena's office door. Or rather I didn't knock for as I prepared to a melodious, rich contralto called out for me to enter. How did she even know I was there? I didn't bother thinking about that one as Helena seemed to know just about everything that transpired within the headquarters of the bank - often before it happened. "Come on in, Irina," she almost sang and I obeyed. I was familiar with her office which was a large one with its walls panelled, floor to ceiling, with dark, well-varnished timber - all very Victorian: just like the rest of the building. My office, although much smaller, was similarly adorned, which should come as no surprise. I looked around and was surprised to see that the woman herself was not seated behind her aircraft carrier-sized desk. Instead she was standing gazing out of the room's large window and contemplating the view of Wren's splendid St Paul's Cathedral. The one that had been built in the seventeenth century after its predecessor burned down in the great fire of 1666. Just like the cathedral, Helena is best described as 'imposing', for at six foot two, she towered over most women and many men. Six foot two with a good figure and a kind face which was framed by the long golden- blonde hair that also cascaded down her back. Six foot two, that is, without the four inch heels that she habitually wore. She half turned and smiled at me which oddly enough made me nervous even though it was supposed to have had the opposite effect. "So, Irina, dear, we have a small problem don't we?" Dumbly I nodded. Here goes... "Actually I see it more as an opportunity." One of Helena's beautifully plucked eyebrows rose by an eighth of an inch showing that I had her full attention. "Oh?" She asked in an interested, though dubious voice. "You have committed my bank to bail out the Holloways' lame duck of a company which will cost us a significant sum of money and you describe this as 'an opportunity'?" I nodded eagerly. "Uh-hu!" I was committed now so I walked across the linoleum covered floor and joined her by the window. "An opportunity for all concerned." The City of London may only be a single square mile set as it is in the midst of the UK's preposterous capital but it should be remembered that, in financial terms, it was the most important square mile on the planet for it was from here that almost every country's economy was controlled and regulated. Pretty well every organisation that was worthy of the title 'bank' maintained an office within The City and for many of them it was their head office. This was my city... This was where I worked. Helena motioned me over to one of the two easy chairs that flanked a small occasional table and after we were both seated she poured a couple of cups of coffee from the pot that was already waiting there. She certainly liked to plan ahead. "So, Irina, perhaps you would like to explain how a multi-million pound liability is an 'opportunity' for my bank?" There was no anger and to be honest, she actually sounded more than a little intrigued. "I assume that you want me to put them into administration?" I sipped my coffee and then nodded. "As long as it can be done without calling in an outside official receiver." She nodded. "Nothing easier: we'll be able to freeze their debts so that things don't deteriorate - I'll get the accountants to carry out a full audit while they're at it, it's nice to know exactly what we are dealing with." I breathed out noisily in relief which caused Helena to smile. "The next step will be a little unscrupulous - I need the Holloways to believe that there was a major error made when their company was registered and that they are personally responsible for the whole of the debt." Suddenly it was my employer's turn to 'breath out noisily' although in her case it was due to surprise and not relief. "Oh, I see!" she proclaimed and then smiled but there was nothing pleasant or reassuring about her expression. 4. Developments. I was off the hook! Now all that I needed to do, if you will pardon the metaphor, was to get someone else to swallow one,. That, however, would depend upon precisely what bait was offered. It would also need careful timing and more than a little deception, but so what? If this came off as I hoped that it would, then everyone would come out of it as a winner. Myself; Helena; McCorqudale & Yorke; Mr and Mrs Holloway: we'd all end up very happy and happy is always a good thing, isn't it? Now, ten days later, I was sitting in my panelled office behind my antique oak desk feeling smug. Things had moved quickly and there could even be unanticipated spin-offs - Helena had actually hinted at the likelihood of a promotion to the Bank's shadowy 'Ways and Means' Department which carried out some of the lesser known activities that were needed to keep the money moving. A week ago I had visited the fourth floor office of a devious little reptile who was the Bank's legal officer. The little rat had kept undressing me with his eyes all of the time that I was outlining what I needed done. I found the experience to be rather disconcerting even though it was the sort of thing that I tended to do quite a bit of the time myself. I just don't like others doing to me - especially when they are male, grey, stoop-shouldered and have the sharp, pointy-nosed features of a large rat! Rat-faced or not, Mr Delkins was able to provide me with plenty of background information about the personal lives of Donald and Evangeline Holloway. Yes, her name really is Evangeline - isn't that divine? Interesting information such as the fact that they owned a five million pound house on the outskirts of London and a slightly larger second home in Shropshire. That they had an eighteen year old daughter. That they held equal shares in the family company and so would believe that they were equally liable for the whole of the debit that the bank was about to generously take on. There was a lot of interesting information on the little family that promised to be of use. Delkins smirked as I speed-read parts of the dossier: he'd done a good job and knew it. There certainly was a lot here that was of use . I outlined what else I needed him to do. "Yes," he said, "Helena mentioned something like that when she warned me that I needed to be discrete." "But can you do it?!" I asked, trying not to sound too desperate. He had laughed nastily. "Oh yes; it's not a problem: I'm sure that we can compress the legal timeline to fit in with your, er, needs." He even made the word 'needs' sound dirty. "It's just a matter of approaching the right judge and I know a couple who could be persuaded to be helpful." Back in the present I tried to get my thoughts back under control. I glanced up at the clock, the minute hand was crawling up towards the hour and the hour in question was eleven. I had just one more appointment before lunch and it was the one that I was looking forward too. I had everything arranged: the bad news and the good. The documents were on hand that I was going to need signed: some that told the truth and some that did not while others were a mix of both. I needed to paint a picture of disaster yet had to be able to offer a tempting way to safety, a way that avoided financial ruin. At a few seconds before eleven, my phone rang. I answered it and was informed, by Arthur, the elderly gentleman who oversaw our lobby, that there was a young couple here to see me for an eleven o'clock meeting. My heart seemed to skip a beat as I asked him to send them up. I had a minute and a half to wait so I spent it double-checking my dossiers and I had plenty of those. Someone knocked on my door. I looked up and called, "Come in, please." It creaked open and Mr Donald Holloway hesitantly entered. He was followed by Evangeline who looked far from hesitant. I stood and walked over to them holding out my hand for the man to shake. "Donald... Evangeline... So good of you to come." I said as I pumped the husband's hand and looked him in the eye. I forced myself to behave stereotypically in that I concentrated upon the man and largely ignored his wife. I spun around and, smiling, indicated the three easy chairs and coffee table that I had borrowed for the occasion. I needed to put them at their ease and step one was me saying, "Please be seated!" When they were, I reached around and grabbed one of the files from my desk but as I did so I caught a whiff of Evangeline's perfume and had too fight down a small shiver of anticipation, not to mention the twitches inside my panties. "Are there any developments?" Donald Holloway enquired hesitantly. I looked sombre. "I am afraid so. It seems that things may be worse than you led me to believe a fortnight ago." The both looked shocked so I changed the subject by enquiring. "Tea or coffee?" Then I left them to 'stew' while I phoned my drinks request to housekeeping. I chatted with them, largely about the weather and other trivia until one of the bank's servants brought our refreshments - I needed the pair of them relaxed and more than a little susceptible to what I was about to say. It had been Helena's idea to dose their drinks with a suitable will-suppressant and she had suggested a mild version of the highly effective drug that we both use on our pets. I watched them as they sipped their coffee and waited a few minutes for the telltale effects to become obvious. The gently up-turned mouths; the slightly wide-eyed open expressions; the increased tendency to relax and lean back in their chairs. Medicating one's clients is not normally considered as good business practice, but in their case I firmly believed that it was for their own good. I began by metaphorically hitting them below the belt. "I'll be blunt," I said straight out, "I am afraid that the Bank's auditors do not believe that your company's assets are large enough to meet your liabilities if you continue trading." Donald almost choked on his coffee while Evangeline looked stunned. "Are you sure?" she asked. I nodded. "They have taken everything into account and there is something like a twenty five per cent shortfall." "Can't you grant us a loan to cover the difference and we'll pay it back over the next couple of years? This is a merchant Bank, after all, so surely you view this as an investment opportunity?" That was Evangeline, still thinking clearly, despite the stuff in her coffee. I paused and drank some of my own coffee which needless to say, was not dosed with anything other than cream. "I'm sorry, but taking your projected future tax bills into account, it is going to be at least ten years before we would see a return on the investment which is a far longer term than the Directors would be comfortable with." By now Donald seemed very close to tears but I could almost see the little wheels going around inside Evangeline's head. "Why can't we file for bankruptcy and relaunch ourselves as a new company with a new name? That way we could just walk away from many of our debts." Where had this woman been all of my life? It as an excellent suggestion, but I was ready. By way of an answer I extracted a sheet of paper from one of my dossiers and handed it to her. I didn't say anything but then I didn't need to. She read it and turned as pale as her husband. "What?" she almost shrieked. "This is not possible!" "I'm afraid it is," I said gravely. "We have double checked it and it's true. Your company was not registered correctly with Company's House and so your limited liability status is not valid. As a result, the two of you are personally liable for the whole of the debt." Donald Holloway looked as if someone had just hit him while his wife did a passable impression of a goldfish. I gave them a minute or so for the levels of panic to rise before adding. "I have also been led to believe that, because of this error, the Inland Revenue, bless them, are about to commence legal proceedings to recover the whole of the tax bill that is currently owing." Horrified, they stared at each other and then at me and by now I could see that they were both shocked. So far, so good....... "Can't the bank do anything?" Evangeline almost sobbed. On reflection I was glad that I had dosed her coffee with the drug for I doubted that she would have fallen for my ploy if I hadn't. The Lady was shrewd. I smiled reassuringly. "I think so. We are a merchant bank after all and have a wide network of contacts. I am sure that we can slow things down so that we can gain a little grace. I'm pretty sure that we can also come up with a bail-out package that will get you both out of trouble!" This was the bait and I had dangled it in front of them expertly although I say so myself. I opened another folder and extracted a couple of wads of paper. "The sooner that we can get things moving the safer you will be so could you please have a look at these and sign them as indicated... The Bank can't act without your authority, which these papers grant. Think of them as giving us 'powers of attorney': these allow us to act on your behalf without having to pester you every few minutes." Donald immediately began to scribble his signature everywhere that was indicated by a little cross and had run through the whole of the twenty or so pages while Evangeline was still reading the first one. "Receivership?" she enquired. I nodded. "It allows the Bank to take control of all of your assets: this is by far the best way to protect you both from your creditors. You'll remain in control of your company but we will be able to protect you from creditors and possible predators." She nodded and signed in all of the places before moving on to the second sheet. "Most of the powers that you grant us will not be needed. They're only there in case of an emergency." She frowned. "Then why do we need to sign now?" I smiled reassuringly. "If they are needed then it will be at very short notice. There might only be a few minutes' grace - nowhere near enough time to contact you. This is a pretty involved business - one misstep and the whole thing could unravel instantly and then where would you and your family be?" She scribbled a couple of signatures and moved on to the third sheet. "Inland Revenue?" "This gives us the authority to deal with them on your behalf," I explained. She shivered and signed. By now she was spending less and less time reading each sheet and had begun signing more by reflex than judgement. Suddenly she stopped and looked up. "Articles of Partnership?" I shrugged. "If a cash injection is required, you may have to sell a part of the company and take on a business partner: probably a Merchant Venturer who specialises in bail outs of this sort. Again this is a decision that would need to be made at very short notice." She signed the page... And the next... And the next... I took a good look at her: she now looked as relaxed and happy as her husband did. The drug, for some reason, had taken longer to work. I gathered up the papers, put them back inside the folder and locked it in my safe heaving a sigh of relief now that the first stage of my take- over bid was complete. Evangeline would make a beautiful bride. Soon it would be time for lunch but there was one more thing to do and within a minute or so my phone rang right on time heralding the next phase of today's machinations: Donald was going to be taken out to lunch by Helena Yorke so that he could meet his new partner. I answered the call making all of the correct responses, finishing with: I'll send him up. I turned back to the Holloways. "That was my boss, Ms Yorke, she has asked that you go up to her office to meet a potential investor. Things need to move much faster than I previously believed so just go out of the door and up the stairs to the sixth floor. Helena's office is opposite the staircase. You can't miss it." They looked at each other and then stood and made their way to the door. "Er, not you, Evangeline. The Investor specifically asked to see Donald alone for the initial talks." "What?" she asked, sounding somewhat surprised. I shrugged. "Sorry about that but perhaps you would like to join me for lunch? That way we can fill in some of the gaps in your understanding of events?" "Don't agree to anything without checking with me first," she snapped at her husband who nodded. Actually He wouldn't need to agree to anything: his consent was already signed and sealed and locked up in my safe. Either way, Donald was in for an 'interesting' time: with or without his wife's agreement. 5. The Perils of a Working Lunch. Perhaps you will forgive me for feeling relieved but everything seemed to be coming together quite smoothly. I had taken Evangeline to a little restaurant a few streets away and just outside of the 'City' proper. It is very discrete and a favourite of the financial community so I was pretty sure that we would not be interrupted. We commenced proceedings by opening a bottle of rather good wine so that we could celebrate a successful outcome to our meeting and as we chatted I learned one or too things about her, thanks to the wine, and the drops that I had put in hers Evangeline became a bit giggly and opened up a much more than she had intended. I learned for instance that she was thirty and was ten years younger than Donald. Immediately that I heard this my ears pricked up - so she was Donald's second wife and that daughter could not be hers. I poured her a second glass just as the steaks were arriving: there was a slight confusion over our orders which I used to put a couple more drops into her glass which in turn caused her to become even more relaxed. No, she didn't know anything much about Donald's first wife as he refused to talk about her: she gathered that the separation had been far from amicable. These facts were naturally filed away for future use. As the meal proceeded I asked my 'date' about herself and learned that she was from Skipton in Yorkshire and had been an only child but her parents were now both dead. I offered my condolences for form's sake even though she was too merry to notice. No parents or siblings: now that was good news as it meant that there would be no close family to wonder about the sudden changes in lifestyle that the woman was about to undergo. When I judged that her defences were well and truly down my questions became a little more probing and I then asked her if she had ever had sex with another woman. This time the giggling lasted for a full ten seconds and was accompanied by a bout of blushing so I took that as a 'yes'. Bimbos do not normally appeal to me but I was now beginning to find the air-headed version of Evangelina to be quite a turn-on. The highly intelligent Evangeline was witty and had a sharp mind and a fantastic personality which had been the original attraction. However the silly version was very endearing and a real turn-on so I would need to make up my mind very soon as to which one I wanted. Should I keep her as she is, with all of the inherent problems of controlling her degree of intelligence or have her bimbofied? Bimbos have a lot of advantages in that they are far easier to maintain and tend to fuck like bunnies. The highly intelligent woman that she now was would be a great intellectual asset that I could utilize both at work and at home but the bimbo would be more entertaining. I realised that I would have a choice to make at some point in the future because I could not have both. Ah! Choices! Choices! Choices! Eventually the meal came to an end and I signed the bill - well it was a business lunch after all. None of the restaurant staff seemed to notice that the beautiful brunette who accompanied me was three sheets to the wind but then that is all part of the service. They called a taxi for us and helped the lady into it, sympathising with the fact that she was 'unwell'. I made a decision and used my mobile to call Helena informing her that Evangeline would have to come home with me 'for her own protection' as she was a little 'drunk'. Helena chuckled and told me that Donald was getting on famously with his potential new partner and that their working lunch would last several more hours because the new partner wanted to take Donald clothes-shopping as he was dissatisfied with his current image. I called in at the Bank on the way home and asked Albert to get the blue file from my office safe as I intended to work at home. The blue file was the one containing the unsigned copies of the documents that the Holloways had signed and was for reference only. "Certainly, madam, please be good enough to wait here while I send a messenger up to collect it," he said with his usual smile. * * * By the time that I arrived home with Evangeline she had become semi- conscious so I had two of my maids put her to bed in the guest room. I knew that they would amuse themselves a little while they undressed her and helped her into bed, but that didn't matter. Her clothes were much the worse for wear, she having spilled a good deal of food and wine during the meal so I made a note of her sizes and did some phoning around, contacting a couple of shops that I knew would deliver. Within a couple of hours I obtained clothing that I judged to be far more suitable than her rather severe tailored business suit. Donald wasn't the only one who would be getting a new wardrobe. Evangeline would be staying so I was quite generous in my purchases. The underwear would be quite a bit skimpier than what she had previously worn and the skirts and dresses were no doubt shorter than those she normally wore but she would soon get used to her new look. I know that most women spend a lot of their time in slacks or trousers but Evangeline would only ever wear skirts for as long as she was living under my roof and I was determined that this would be for a long time, a very long time! I had learned that her daughter was away at school so that was one complication that did not have to be taken into account... Yet! As far as I was concerned she was actually an added bonus and I had plenty of time to decide how to utilize her... Or at least I had until just after the wedding when life would change for the young lady: yes, it would change drastically indeed. I stopped and thought - perhaps it wouldn't hurt to set the ball rolling a little early and it was always a good idea to secure one's assets. I thumbed through the file that I had brought from the bank and found the page with her details: I read through it and then phoned Mr Delkins and asked him to arrange for her to receive a medical examination plus certain emergency 'treatment' at the clinic that I stipulated. That done, I sat back and allowed myself the luxury of feeling smug. * * * It was the following afternoon before I was able to compare notes with Helena. I had sedated Evangeline and left her in the capable hands of my beautiful pets: they would look after her and ensure that she didn't do anything silly. They would also keep her sedated so that she was easier to handle and would no doubt handle her too. I asked Helena about Donald's lunch appointment that had taken place on the previous day and she had given me a big beaming smile. "Armando. he's the new investor, by the way, is quite taken with Donald and is keen to obtain a controlling interest in the Holloways' company and in much more, besides. He's going to buy Mrs Holloway out completely and take ten per cent of Mr Holloway's holdings too. Donald, of course, doesn't know about any of this yet and I intend to break it to him gently. Actually things will be much easier now the wife is out of the picture - she was the one who was controlling everything and running her husband too. With her out of the picture it will be very easy to manipulate Donald. The lunch had gone well and Donald had remained pliant thanks to the drugs that he had been fed. By two o'clock, Armando had become his new best friend and was well on the way to becoming his partner too. Luckily Donald had not read the paperwork and so had no idea as to what sort of 'partnership' he was in the process of entering into. Armando wasn't happy with Donald's appearance and so had insisted on taking him shopping and on purchasing a whole new wardrobe and image make-over for him. They had started off at a beautician who catered for that certain type of male... Here Donald's hair had been styled and highlighted; light make-up was then applied to his face; his nails shaped and painted and finally all body hair removed and he had been tastefully sprayed with subtle perfume. Then it was off to an adult shop where he had acquired figure-hugging underwear that held his genitalia in a contoured pouch that left nothing to the imagination and thrust everything forward so to make a prominent bulge in the front of his trousers. This Armando love it because it accentuated his manhood while Helena thought that it made him look as well-hung as a Shetland pony. Next Armando took him on a tour of several exclusive boutiques and purchased a whole new wardrobe for him. A wardrobe that Armando alone chose. When she had last seen them: Donald had been wearing a figure- hugging silk floral shirt in pink and purple and skin-tight maroon trousers that flared out below the knee and accentuated his new, bulging crotch. His new shoes had three inch Cuban heels which caused him to roll and sway when he walked: in fact he was so unsteady that he had to slip his arm through Armando's - just for support you understand! The Italian financier had then informed Helena that he was taking his new friend home and that Donald would be living with him from now on. Donald was too spaced-out to grasp the implications of the statement so he just nodded and grinned vacuously. I had laughed and clapped my hands in delight. "I think that it's time to dispose of their houses an their cars. Surely we urgently need to recoup some of the money owed to the Bank?" When Helena smile knowingly and I continued. "Evangeline has moved in with me - she doesn't know it yet, but being homeless will make it a lot easier for me convince her that she has no alternative. It will also cement Armand's hold over Donald too." There was still one more thing that needed actioning and this was urgent. To this end I removed a sheet of paper from the blue file that was now on my desk and showed it to her. "Could this possibly become absolute on Wednesday next week?" She glanced at it and smiled. "It'll be tight to get it done in nine days but I'll instruct Delkins to make sure that your deadline is met. I am sure that Armando will be highly appreciative afterwards too." I could definitely hear wedding bells but now there were two sets of them ringing in unison! 6. Tying-up Loose Ends. I was on leave from the Bank: a month's leave with Helena's grateful blessing. No matter how unorthodox the series of transactions had been, the Holloways had got their wish and their family business had been rescued from certain bankruptcy. It now had a sound future as a part of the Armando Bergamaschi Group whose headquarters were in Pietada, Italy. If there is a moral to this part of the proceedings it is that people should always be careful in what they wish for because wishes just sometimes are granted! Today was Monday and the beginning of the fourth week of my dealings with the Holloway family and Evangeline had been staying with me for a week. At first she had been more than a little confused but I had kept her sedated and on a low-dose of will-suppressants to prevent her from becoming stressed or distressed. The doses would be reduced in the future as she adjusted to her new role and to the change in her status. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this but we really did have to sell our houses," she had apologised profusely. She believe that the house sales had been her idea and that she had talked me into it as a way to begin reducing the size of the family's debt to the bank. I reassured her that she was no trouble and that she could stay for however long it took to sort out her family's finances. I was rewarded for this white lie with a big, beaming smile. She kissed me on the cheek and thanked me profusely but I knew that she would become a lot more grateful very soon: she just didn't know it yet. We had visited both of her family houses towards the end of previous week so that she could recover any items of value: sentimental or otherwise. We had come away with remarkably little each time, just some clothing that I thought she would look good in, a few pictures and photos, a couple of books and the jewellery that her mother had left her. Together we had arranged for furniture, electronic items and any other property that she thought would be need in future, including things that belonging to their daughter, to be placed into storage. This was done for show as I was sure that neither Evangeline nor her daughter would ever have use or need for those items again. I would, no doubt, be selling the stuff or donating it to charity at some time in the near future. When she had asked about Donald I had explained that Armando had taken him in and she seemed happy about this. Then she had asked about her step-daughter and I had explained that the girl was currently in a private clinic due to needing treatment for an urgent medical conditions that had been revealed by a recent medical examination: the one that her new health insurers had required. Oddly enough she did not press the matter, although she seemed grateful that the girl was being well-looked after. "Oh yes," I had said reassuringly, "I'll make sure that she is suitably taken care of and what ever is needed will be done for her." She had smiled prettily. "She is going to start at University in the autumn, you know.." Slowly her mood darkened and a frown creased her brow. "She isn't very nice to me you know. She's always been a bitchy little Daddy's Princess. I think that she resented me marrying her father..." Her voice trailed off and she became lost in thought for a few moments. "All the same, I hope she does well, it's not her fault that she is a spoiled little monster!" I had nodded and smiled again but I had my own plans for the eighteen year old, whose name was Ashley. She was a valuable asset, after all, one that I could find any number of uses for that I won't go into here. It was the following Wednesday morning that things began to come to a head. While we were making a final visit to the London house, the one that had been the family's main home, her husband had arrived in the company of Armando Bergamaschi and the latter had greeted me like a long lost friend. He thanked me for making it possible for him to acquire his holding in the Holloway's company and was clearly very grateful to both myself and my Bank. He had brought Donald so that he could recover possessions in much the same way that Evangeline had done. Or at least this is what the Holloways believed. Evangeline had been pleased to see Donald again after almost a week apart but had been surprised by his appearance as she had previously never seen him wear anything more casual than a sports shirt and a pair of chinos. The sight of her husband clad in a brightly patterned floral kaftan and high-heeled shoes had been a shock as had his high-lighted buzz-cut hair, the make-up he was wearing and his designer stubble. . She clearly felt something for him but could not understand why he didn't want to have anything to do with her. She was also at a loss as to why was he clinging to the Italian's arm in the way that he was. I had kept quiet for I was pretty sure just what was happening: it was obvious to a slaver, such as myself, that Donald had been 'got at'. Evangeline, having no idea that peoples' minds could be tinkered with in this way, was clearly hurt when her husband rejected her. Armando had intervened by announcing that Donald was his new partner and that they planed to formalize their relationship in the very near future. Confused, Evangeline had replied that she knew all about the business partnership and that she as happy that Armando had saved their company. Armando had then kissed her husband full on the mouth right there in front of her and asked, "Who said anything about it being a business partner?" Donald had responded by grabbing hold of Armando's lapels and returning the kiss with such vigour that it was obvious that tongues were involved. Evangeline had turned away in shock and I could clearly see tears running down her cheeks. She was clearly confused which confirmed that I had got her dosage about right. Those hypnotic will-suppressing drugs could be tricky but I was pleased by the affect that they were having in destabilizing her and making her vulnerable. I sat the stunned woman down in one of the easy chairs in what had until recently been her own living room and tried to reassure her that everything was alright. "But he is my husband: how can he behave like that? He won't even speak to me, what have I done to him?" "No, Evangeline," I said firmly, "he is not your husband as the two of you are no longer married." I had then shown her the 'Decree Absolute' that a Bank Messenger had brought around earlier in the day. "See? The divorce that you both so desperately wanted has been granted." She read the document, together with the forms that both her and her former husband had signed the previous week. "See, this is what made the settlement possible and it is what you both demanded." "But... How? I never asked for this. Surely there hasn't been time?" she asked, clearly confused. I hardened my heart a little and told her a version of the truth that would help me take possession of her. "You were both insistent that the bank should prevent your business for collapsing. You were both personally responsible for the whole of the debt, remember?" Glumly she had nodded her agreement but remained silent. "Armando Bergamaschi had been the only one who was willing to step in and bail you both out at such short notice, which as lucky for you, but there were strings attached. After Helena contacted him he flew in from Italy just to help you. However, he was only willing to save you both if he could take a majority holding in the company: hence he purchased the whole of your share and part of Donald's." I sat on the couch next to her and slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders as she was clearly experiencing a great deal of mental turmoil. "The house sale plus he amount that he paid was just enough to clear your debts. Isn't that wonderful?" I carried on blithely. "He took such a liking to your husband, that he made a stipulation that any financial bail-out was dependent upon Donald entering into a relationship with him. Seeing that he had no choice, Donald agreed and luckily you had already both signed divorce papers on the off-chance that a separation might be a financially necessary. Don't you remember?" "We - we're no longer married?" she asked plaintively. "That's what you agreed to when you signed those papers so you must have wanted it desperately." I didn't so much lie as adjust the truth a little. She sniffed back a tear. "But what about me? What am I going to do now?" "You are going to marry me on Friday," I said assertively and I must say that her wide-eyed expression was a treat to behold. The rest of the afternoon was taken up with Evangeline being fitted for her wedding dress and other last-minute preparations - I was determined to move quickly and not to give her time to think: although considering her level of medication the chances of her being able to do just that was now negligible! I had finally made my decision. Although I had initially been attracted to her sharp mind I had since come to realise that I was not going to be able to maintain her new reality in the face of her constant probing and questioning. Luckily I was also attracted to her beautiful body and it was the body that had won. She was a highly intelligent woman but it's fairly easy to do something about that. The solution was to reduce her IQ by about twenty points. This would help lower her attention span and shift her focus onto her body-image and her sex life. In other words she was going to be transformed into an sex-mad air-head of a bimbo. A lesbian bimbo! I knew that I could create the facade and maintain it by upping the dosage of the drugs that she was on but this solution would only be temporary. Her long-term transformation would require some fairly deep psycho-sexual conditioning - luckily Margaret Baxter, who I knew well, was an eminent psychiatrist and happily carried out such work for any members of 'The Circle' who were willing to pay for her services. I had already booked Evangeline in for "treatment" which would begin the month after our honeymoon, the drugs would be enough to maintain my control until then. Evangeline would not become my slave, not really, I wanted much more from her. Instead she would be transformed into my soul-mate who would run our home in the traditional role of a happy stay-at home-trophy wife: Stepfordization rather than Bimbofication, but what the hell? She would be ecstatically happy afterwards - we both would! All the same, I would miss the companionship that her intelligent mind would have provided. 7. Moving quickly. I won't go into the actual ceremony much other than to say that it was a traditional wedding, more-or-less, and the bride, or rather both brides wore white. Evangeline; a flowing, gauzy gown that billowed out from her feminine figure which it enhanced beautifully while I wore a shimmering silk trouser-suit that reflected the rays of the afternoon sun and dazzled the priestess as she officiated at our out-door ceremony. Helena was there, as was Ludmilla and a few other members of 'The Circle': well they were the nearest thing too 'friends' that I had and weddings within our somewhat exclusive little group are somewhat of a a rarity. There were a couple of breaks with tradition: the main one being that no one gave either of the brides away and we walked down the isle arm in arm and together. I would have loved Evangeline's daughter to have been a bridesmaid but it was much too short notice and she would probably have rebelled. Instead, two of my pets Alicia and Suki (one female and one shemale) performed this role and thoroughly enjoyed a rare day out. They looked a picture as they followed along behind us dressed in flowing white gowns similar to that worm by the bride. They had been looking after Evangeline during her stay and had helped her dress for the ceremony. They had followed us to the wedding alter and waited patiently while the officiating priestess conducted the ceremony. They smiled and held hands ever so sweetly as they watched the proceedings in absolute silence. Suddenly the climax of the ceremony was reached and the priestess asked the all-important question. "Do you take this woman t be your lawful wedded wife?" We both answered, "I do!" in chorus... And that was it: she was now Evangeline Ermakova - my wife! The priestess smiled warmly as she said, "You may now kiss the bride." And a quiet cheer went around the congregation as we did so. Evangeline had also smiled throughout the whole of the ceremony, even though she did look a little blank at times: never mind, she would look blank all of the time when I had finished with her! After the (almost) traditional ceremony came the traditional reception which was catered for by the hotel that hosted the ceremony and then we were off on our honeymoon - which I had decided would be spent at home: much of it in bed! At this point I think it would be fair to state that I had not touched Evangeline during the ten days that she had been living in my house for I wanted our wedding night to be really important as far as our sex-life was concerned. I wanted it to be special and it wouldn't have been if I had been fucking her right from the minute that she moved in. I might be a 'Mistress' but I am still a sentimentalist at heart and I wanted our wedding night to be a romantic occasion. Hell, I even carried her over the threshold while my maids/pets looked on and applauded - and who says that romance is dead? Once inside her new home, I took her by the hand and led her up to our bedroom which the girls had prepared for us by turning the lights low, scattering flowers around and lighting candles - all to create an atmosphere. There was even a bottle of Champagne cooling in an ice bucket and a couple of glasses ready. If it had been up to me it would have been vodka but then I am Russian! I sat her down on the edge of the bed, poured two glasses and handed one to her. I raised mine. "To the two us!" She echoed my toast and I took her in my arms and kissed her for about two minutes feeling her relax against me as the time passed. I helped her out of her gown and she got into the spirit of things by helping me to undress too. And God! Wasn't she beautiful? Long chocolate- coloured hair framing a face that would not have been out of place in the movies. DD sized breasts and a narrow, feminine waist. Hips that flared out beautifully and an arse that would have been highly spankable, if I had been into that sort of thing. Evangeline really had been wasted on Donald... Hell she would have been wasted on ANY man! However heterosexuality was something that was firmly in her past, she was now another woman's wife and could look forward to being a lesbian for the rest of her life. After we had parted from the kiss, I turned back the satin sheets: then, naked, we slipped into bed. Funnily enough it was at this point that she discovered that she was married to a shemale although the expression of surprise that appeared on her face did not last and was replaced by another beaming smile. It seemed that she was more than happy with what she saw. "You.. You've got a - a penis?" she enquired hesitantly. "And it's all for you, my darling," I said. Okay, it was corny but it was the first thing that came to mind.. She threw her arms around me and we kissed again while I rubbed my body against hers. "You are a shemale?" she asked hesitantly afterwards. "I'm whatever you need me to be," I replied and slipped my hand between her legs to massage her pussy. She closed her eyes and relaxed which caused the questioning to cease as it was replaced by the first of a series of drawn out moans. I encouraged her to turn onto her side and lie with her back to me although she did seem a little puzzled when I threw back the bed clothes to reveal her beautiful naked arse. Moving quickly, I extracted the tube of lube that was hidden under my pillow and lubed her up, using my finger to work as much into her tight little rosebud as I could. She squealed in surprise as the cold gel touched her little pucker and I began to work it in. "What are you doing?" "Hush now, you will love what comes next," I said exaggerating more than slightly. It was our wedding night and I was determined to pop the one cherry that she had left. And yes: if the tightness was anything to go by, she was still an anal virgin. I realised that I needed all of the help that I could get so I lubed my cock up too. Then I slipped my left arm under her and hugged her around the waist nibbling the side of her neck as I did so. "Try to relax, my darling, it might hurt a little at first." "What will?" she began to ask but I chose that moment to enter her arsehole and the question turned into another squeal. As I pushed on in I felt her muscles clench as her tight little hole seemed to be pushing back and trying to expel my intruder but I was ready and pushed into her as far as I could. Her yelp turned into a little moan of pleasure although her body still felt very tense as she trembled slightly. I eased back and pushed forward again before asking, "Is it okay? I'm not hurting you am I?" Her teeth seemed to be gritted and her voice was sort of husky as she said. "It's a nice hurt, but please be gentle with me." And I was, to start with as I eased back gently and pushed on in with as little force as I could get away with. I built up a gentle rhythm: a rocking motion almost, hugging her to me so that she couldn't pull away when I thrust forward. Then after seven or eight gentle thrusts I felt her relax and that relaxation spread to her abdominal muscles: she was still tight but her bowel had stopped trying to evict its loving invader. Another dozen or so more thrusts later and I begun to use my right hand to explore her juiced-up pussy with its erect little nubbin of a clitty. I worked my fingers in and out, fucking her pussy with them in time with my thrusts into her arsehole. I was determined that she as going to experience at least one orgasm on her wedding night but knew that it would be unlikely just from anal sex alone. Luckily I had had a lot of experience in rubbing off girls of both sexes and making them cum with my fingers alone. Tonight my expertise was used for my new wife's benefit and judging by her little yelps and moans, it was working. I slowed down a little as I did not want to cum first: fair's fair: it was her wedding night too. I have heard that men never bother about their partners and just bring themselves off regardless but lucky for Evangeline, she was married to a shemale not a man! I was determined that she would enjoy the experience too. Gradually I increased the power of my thrusts and held myself as close to the edge as I could. I pumped my cock in and out, in and out and began to apply more pressure with my hand. God! She was wet down there and I was able to slip two, three, four fingers into her, stretching her pussy and keeping up the pressure on her clitty as I rubbed her vigorously. Suddenly her body bucked and began to twitch and she screamed her release as she orgasmed. This was enough to push me over the edge and I came almost as noisily as she did, my cock pulsing and squirting its load deep into her bowel. Her twitching continued for some time, but eventually subsided and she leaned back against me groaning in her ecstasy. My God! She was a fantastic woman and, honestly, I really did love her. I began to move my right hand away from her vagina prior to pulling my now-flaccid cock out of her arsehole but she pressed her own hand over mine, trapping it in place. "No!" she commanded. "Keep rubbing and stay inside me!" I did as I was told even though I could feel my cum dribbling out of her: my soft dick no longer firm enough to seal it in. I leaned over her and nibbled the side of her neck once again and as rewarded by seeing her knowing smile illuminated in the candle light. "Oh, Irina, that was wonderful! Can we do me again?" she purred. "Donald never could but I'm sure that you can." Suddenly I felt about ten feet tall. "It'll take me a few minutes to recover, but I'll try." She chuckled and ground her arse against my crotch and my cock began to stiffen again. I knew then that I was in for a long night. 8. Tipping Point. Time slipped by in what seemed like an orgiastic haze. Evangeline and I enjoyed our honeymoon and I got to fill each of her holes in turn. My pets carried on running the home and making sure that we were fed and looked after and everything was cleaned just the same as always. I was married now and had someone to wake-up with but my pets were being neglected and not being fucked which was their main purpose in life. Not that they showed any sign of resentment, of course not, but as far as they were concerned, their world had been turned upside down. I was supposed to be a Mistress: their owner in fact and yet I was so besotted that I had almost stopped noticing that they existed. The days slipped past uncounted and I know that everything that subsequently happened was my own fault: I had taken my eyes off the ball, as it were. I hadn't had Evangeline conditioned as a Bimbo yet and was still relying on a combination of will suppressants and sedatives to keep her tractable and compliant. I was also leaving it to my pets to make sure that the correct drugs were added to her food at the correct times: in hindsight, perhaps this was not a good idea. The first problem came when stocks of medication ran low and they reduced her dosage without informing me directly and I guess that I was too far gone in my ecstatic daze to notice their hints. Eventually I found out but by then neither myself, nor my girls were in control of the medication. The second problem was that I thought that I could reconstruct Evangeline's personality myself. All Mistress's are arrogant and if we fall, then this is usually the cause. I intended to have her conditioned by Margaret Baxter but I thought that my expertise in medicating my own slaves was good enough for me to carry out the initial part of the work on my dear wife. I learned that it wasn't and that there is a major difference between using will-suppressants to keep a slave docile and the conditioning a highly intelligent woman. The drugs just weren't up to the task although my own arrogance blinded me to this, The third problem was one that was impossible to foresee - morning sickness! Evangeline was pregnant. no it was not me, it seems like Donald and my new wife had decided to try for a baby and Evangeline had been caught sometime before I first set eyes on her. I should have noticed her lack of a period, but hell! I don't have them - a perk of being a transwoman. My pets do not get them as half of them are ditto and the ones who were born female have all been spayed. Many Mistresses insist on hysterectomies for their slaves simply because of the massive advantages that this brings. They are available for sex at all times because they do not have periods and do not suffer from mood swings brought on by hormonal fluctuations, Finally, it is quite impossible for them to become pregnant so once again they are always sexually available. Their hormonal levels can be maintained and fine- tuned by HRT so it really is a win-win situation. Better for them and better for me. Morning sickness meant that my beloved threw up her medication several days running and became less and less ditzy as her intelligence reasserted itself and she worked out just what was happening. She kept this hidden of course, biding her time while she weighed up her options and as I have said many times, she is exceptionally bright! I had been back at work for a fortnight when she made her move and suddenly I was taken ill. It was first thing on a Tuesday morning and I woke up feeling dizzy, light headed and sick. Evangeline was very concerned and played the loving wife for all that it was worth. Insisting that it as probably just the flu' and that I should take a few days off so that it could run its course. She even phoned Helena personally to inform her of my illness: she was so thoughtful! She, however, had stopped acting like a bimbo but, feeling like shit, I didn't notice. A couple of hours later she suggested that perhaps it would be easier for her to look after me if my pets/maids answered to her directly so that she could instruct them and make sure that they did everything that was needed to keep the household functioning. Sleepily, I had agreed and told them that they were to follow all of Evangeline's instructions and do whatever she told them too. She had smiled and a few minutes later brought me my lunch personally. "I've fallen in love with you, Irina," she said completely unbidden and kissed me on the top of my head, "but I've worked out what you were doing to me." I looked up from my plate of sandwiches and suddenly it dawned on me just what she was saying. "Evangeline, I... I'm sorry," I gasped. She smile lovingly. "Oh, don't worry: I'll never hurt you but to be fair, there are going to be changes: very big changes. As I said: I love you and we are going to stay married as life with you promises to be better than anything that I had with that loser, Donald. I only married him for his money and the silly sod has managed to lose all of it." She sat down on the edge of the bed and took me in her arms. "As I said, there are going to be changes and being a Mistress has many advantages and attractions! But don't be scared, I'll make sure that you are very happy about everything that happens. You always want everyone to be happy and this is one of the things that I love about you, my darling, so I promise that I will do the same." Just then Peggy, who was one of the maids, came tripping into the room. "Excuse me, Mistress, I'm sorry to interrupt you but Mistress Helena's party has arrived." I started to thank her but suddenly it dawned on me that she had been speaking to Evangeline, not to me. * * * I must have dozed after I had finished my meal and thinking back, there was probably a little something in my cup of tea to prevent me from doing anything silly. Sometime later I was awoken by the sound of voices and opened my eyes to see Evangeline, Helena, Margaret Baxter and a woman who I later learned was one of 'The Circle's' tame doctors. They were standing around and discussing me, amongst other things. "As you can see, Ms Yorke, things have changed and I'm the one in charge now!" Evangeline stated in a matter-of-fact voice. Her tone was pleasant and neither triumphant nor boastful. Helena stepped forward and peered at me as if I was some sort of rare exhibit. "Hmm, so it would seem, Mrs Ermakova, so it would seem." Margaret Baxter, the psychiatrist, came over and sat on the side of my bed. "How are you, Irina?" she asked, concern heavy in her voice as she took my pulse. A psychiatrist is also a doctor, remember? "Not good!" I answered, the words seemed too heavy for me to speak: my thoughts seemed heavy too. I an obviously ill so why was she asking? "So Mrs Ermakova!" Helena snapped. "What exactly do you want?" Evangeline, my darling Evangeline, smiled. "Why to take her place everywhere, what else? And that includes here at home, at the Bank and in 'The Circle'." Margaret Baxter looked shocked. "How do you know about 'The Circle'?" Evangeline cocked a thumb in my direction. "My wife told me all about it when we had a little chat this morning." Did I? Funny I don't remember it! But then remembering things is hard! Thoughts are not easy to sort out... Better not to have to think... Helena stared at my beloved, the tall blonde's expression flinty and determined. "And if I refuse?" Evangeline shrugged. "Then I'll have to find another way to support my dear wife and our little, er, family. They are all my responsibility now after all." Helena and Margaret exchanged glances. "Are you trying to blackmail me?" my boss demanded, her voice harder than I'd ever heard it. "Hell, no! But you are going to have to find someone to take Irina's place at the bank as she'll be a bimbo within a month: hardly suitable to manage clients' accounts. And as I am now the Mistress of a small 'harem' of seven slaves then it would be safer for 'The Circle' if I am a member as it will be easier for them to keep their eye on me," my wife stated in her matter-of-fact voice. Helena glared. "And if I say 'no'?" Evangeline smiled. "You won't because I am very able, as you have seen, I have also beaten Irina which makes me a' winner'. As a banker, you always back winners." Suddenly Helena Yorke burst out laughing. "Welcome to the team, Ms Ermakova." Evangeline shook her head. "Not 'Ermakova', it's 'Ernshaw' from now on: it's my maiden name so we are Evangeline and Irina Ernshaw. My family - My name!" I felt myself begin to doze off but just before I did so I remember seeing Helena take my Mistress's outstretched hand and shake on the deal. * * * And that is it really. I won't say that everything has unravelled, it hasn't, but things have worked out differently to how I had once hoped and expected. Evangeline learned from my mistakes and made sure that I had a nice relaxing stay at Margaret's exclusive clinic as soon as there as a vacancy and while I was waiting she kept me heavily sedated. As you would expect I returned home with bigger tits and a whole new outlook on life. I am happy to have been turned into a sex-obsessed bimbo: just like I had once intended my darling to become. And yes, she does regard me as her wife and expects me to willingly perform all of the normal domestic duties as well as being a sex-object. I was going to say that my pets all love her, but that is unnecessary because they are hers now and she is their Mistress. And yes, I suppose that I should count myself amongst their number even though I am also her wife. There were a few lose ends to be tidied away which Evangeline dealt with with her usual efficiency. Firstly there was the matter of the step-daughter who had been such a little bitch to daddy's new wife. I had already had her sent to Margaret's clinic for preliminary 'treatment' which Evangeline approved of and the girl is now a happy and willing member of or Mistress's little coterie of sex-slaves. In fact Ashley is probably much happier now than she has been at anytime since before her real mother walked out. Then there was Evangeline's baby who was born about six months after our wedding. Mistress handed her over to me to nurse and look-after and I discovered that I have a maternal streak that I never suspected was there. Melody is a pretty little thing who sleeps, gurgles, cries, pees and poos a lot: but then they all do don't they? I love her dearly. Finally there is the matter of my status and as you will have gathered, everything has been turned on its head. I intended Evangeline to be my trophy wife but now I am hers. Besides her insisting that I let my hair grow so that it could be coiffured into a more feminine style she had a few physical changes made. My tits used to be D's but are now something like F's and my hips have been broadened to match the new more feminine me. She wanted to make sure that I remained tractable and didn't stray so had me castrated, which was the sensible thing to do and Evangeline is an eminently sensible woman. I heard her tell the lady doctor, who carried out the operation, that "I want to watch the silly little thing flop around uselessly whenever I fuck her and also, can you shrink it so that it's easier to hide?" The doctor had giggled and said that she would inject it with slow- release estrogens which should speed-up the atrophy. She then added, "They tend to shrink when they're not used anyway but the female hormones should help things along nicely." I suppose that I should say a word or two about Evangeline's former husband, Donald. Armando married him about a month after my wedding and they are now living in a large villa in Bolognia, Italy. I wish him well and hope that he is happy simply because if he hadn't caused the Holloway's family business to go tits-up then I would never have met Evangeline and that doesn't bear thinking about!