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The ExWife Adventure 5-8 free porn video
The Ex-Wife Adventure 5-8
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by Amelie Fortescue copyright c2020 Amelie Fortescue.
5. Startup
"Hello, everybody. Please, gather around!
I want to briefly introduce Frances to you all!"
Sheila stood in the middle of the general office with me - red-faced
standing at attention beside her.
I was again fully conscious of the way I was dressed, and the unwavering,
piercing stares now aimed at me were fully justified by Sheila's direct
invitation.
"Everybody, this is Frances Cardew our new Technical Director - she is
also Fred Bingley's cousin - so we're stuck with her - competent or not!"
Sheila laughed at her own joke, and a I heard a few courteous chuckles
from the audience.
"Frances will be in overall charge of the new project - confirmed as ours
today!
"Fred will be a sleeping partner on this project, so don't try to go over
Frances's head.
"Frances and I will be selecting the new project team this morning, and
Frances and/or myself will be briefing project members individually
throughout the morning.
"Frances will meet non-new-project employees socially around the office
as chances permit.
"The new project is 'go'. It starts today. Everybody must prepare a
status-cum-progress report on whatever they are doing in case they are
selected for the new project.
"New team members must start work as soon as assigned, but not leave any
messes behind!"
Sheila turned to lead me back to my office, but the inevitable question
was shouted after us.
"Is Frances the same sexy bint that gave the techie presentation to the
clients?"
I blushed to my hair roots, but Sheila smiled to answer the anonymous
query.
"Indeed yes ...
"Frances is both sexy, ... and the same person who presented to the
clients."
We escaped as wolf whistles and low-key applause followed us.
Between us we quickly decided on the core team for the new project.
Sheila ordered a drumhead meeting straight away.
I stood up at the whiteboard, and after the expected murmurs had died
down, I began the meeting, and the attendees waited professionally.
"Welcome to project Phoenix!
Phoenix is a new banking management system built over - not 'with' - the
ashes of the old.
Our client is taking a huge risk - all trail-blazers take huge risks, but
this company is also taking huge risks. The client has sent us a proforma
contract that is frightening in the scope of the penalty clauses ...
Let's just say that if we fail to deliver on any of our promises, this
company will be finished, and all the directors will be personally
ruined. We must DELIVER to survive. We must deliver quality, reliability,
security and confidence in an innovative custom package - I'll comment on
our tech partnership with IBM later - they will provide us with dedicated
custom hardware.
Not only must all aspects of Phoenix work according to its system spec,
but it will also need to interface correctly with the several legacy
systems currently in use by the banking world.
Apart from necessary functions, Phoenix will possess integrated statistic
capture, trigger-traps, and event logs in all segments.
Because the 'need-for-speed' is the project driving force, all these
ancillary functions will be scheduled for idle cycles to reduce
transaction latencies."
I then went on to divide the project scope, and appointed group leaders
to each facet.
I briefly ring-fenced each facet of the project, and told the assembled
group leaders to select their team members appropriately. The first
project meeting was over.
I gratefully kicked off the hated boots to massage my poor feet.
I sighed as I looked at the telephone - I had a long day of telecons
looming before me.
Sheila approached me.
"We'll stop by the dress shop on the way home. You can have a 'power'
business-skirt- suit for tomorrow, and I think you'll find 4 inch heels
more comfortable for wearing all day."
Sheila was right, I did need to work from the office! I couldn't hide at
home as the project started up. The team needed their leader to be
physically present.
- - - -
I was surprised that Sheila had eased off. A woman's business suit for me
and some normal-looking shoes. I felt sure that Sheila wanted me as a
full-time, cross-dressed slut. It really wasn't Sheila's fault that
Frances had been created. Not really Barbara's fault either, but
definitely Barbara's fault that Fifi had returned. But Fifi might only
have lasted one day without the presentation coinciding. Can't blame the
presentation - it's an inanimate notional object. Is it Sir Ivor's fault?
- not really - he saw the expert he wanted to head the project and
insisted on his choice.
No, Fred or Frances or Fifi or whatever you call yourself - it's your
fault - you've had so many chances to get out of this - and blown every
one of them.
Maybe Fred is a crossdresser in his DNA, and he lies to himself about
hating it?
I stopped my over-thinking of the situation. Sheila was already talking
to me.
"Frances, I was telling you. Barbara is coming over to stay with us. My
make-up skills are low-key, and she can do an excellent job on your face.
It's time you got out of that corset - it's beginning to whiff! You need
a thorough bath and clean-up, and then Barbara can start on you fresh
tomorrow morning," she mused aloud as we drove home.
I looked at her with a little suspicion. Sheila had insisted on re-
tightening my corset before we left the office, and she had also
delighted in relocking my ballet boots.
Hard discipline garments one day and lady-teacher outfits the next, she
was succeeding in disorientating me. I tried and failed to get
comfortable in the car seat, and the vinyl pulled at my bare thighs - the
fishnet stockings were no protection against the vinyl either!
- - - -
6. Trapped
Barbara ignored me until she had spent a full five minutes kissing my
wife - perhaps, it was Sheila who was kissing Barbara - I couldn't
decide.
Then Barbara stood back and stared at me as I waited impatiently by the
car.
"Fifi, you are a gorgeous girl, but your make-up is spoiled - that's
twenty points."
Barbara approached and trapped me in a bear hug as she kissed me full on
the mouth.
When she released me, she looked again.
"Your make-up is worse than I thought - that's another twenty points!"
"Barbara, you are just plain evil!" exclaimed Sheila. "But I love you for
it - Please, teach me!" Sheila laughed, but I knew Barbara was serious.
"Fifi, mistress Sheila knows you can cook, so pop into the kitchen, and
prepare a nice meal for the two of us. I've got your apron and cap in my
car, so I want you in full uniform this evening!" she waited for me to
curtsey, and I saved twenty punishment points.
I looked to Sheila to intervene, but she just nodded her affirmation.
Frances was now home after a hard day at the office, but Fifi was on hand
to pander to my two wives all evening.
- - - -
"Sheila, it was crazy to insist on Fifi serving you and Barbara breakfast
in bed! ... And such a late breakfast ... Now we're rushing of late to
the office again ... I just had time to put my new clothes in the car ...
I, I, that is me, myself have not had time for breakfast! ...
"It's all very well changing in my office, but the staff will begin to
believe that I like dressing like a slut!" I hectored Sheila after her
car skidded around a corner as we raced to the office, she just briefly
glanced at me impatiently, before concentrating on her driving.
"Arrived - I grabbed the suitcase of clothes and rushed towards my
office. A hurried voice followed me, "Miss Frances, there's a guest in
your ..."
I didn't hear the rest as I finally slammed my office door behind me.
"Hello, Frances," shocked me rigid. I turned and saw a gleaming smile in
a mature male face.
"Oh, god!" I thought, "It's the client's technical director - that's
kyboshed any attempt at a quick change, and just then a breathless Sheila
rushed into my office after parking her car. Sheila recovered quickly.
"Hello, Richard. Very nice to see you!" She shook his hand warmly.
"What brings you here so bright and early?" she enquired.
Richard advanced on me with an outstretched arm and I nervously shook his
hand.
"Frances, you have an intriguing mix of shyness and full-up-front
sexuality - Don't ever change!" he grinned at me like a hungry wolf.
"How did he know that I was going to change?" I asked myself in panic,
and then I realised exactly what he meant. I groaned. It was flirty talk!
"I admire your confidence in your chosen style of dress," he continued,
"it shows character. When I first saw you, I dismissed you as trying a
cheap, eye-candy trick to help swing the contract, but catching you
unawares assures me that there was no subterfuge. Seeing you unchanged
today has increased my confidence in you - and I also admit - your value
as eye-candy is overpowering."
Blushing, I thanked him, and we three sat around my desk while we updated
him on pre-contract progress. He recorded the entire discussion, and
seemed satisfied when he left after about an hour.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sheila, help me out of this Fifi get-up - I don't want to be more
uncomfortable than I need to be!"
"Absolutely not!" Sheila stunned me.
"You heard Richard?" she reminded me. "He trusts you ... trusts the
company, because you didn't tart yourself up specially for the
presentation - if you de-tart yourself now, we might not get the contract
after all!"
"We have the letter-of-intent!" I protested. "There's a huge cancellation
fee."
"How long will that fee keep the company afloat?" Sheila enquired
patiently.
"Oh, no!" I realised. "I will have to dress slutty until the contract is
signed!"
"Even then ..." Sheila reasoned. "They can cancel the contract, at any
time!
"More money in cancellation fees, but not enough for the company ...
"Did you know that Richard is heir-apparent at the bank?
"What he wants is what the bank wants!"
I groaned out loud.
"So apart from my service as Fifi to two demanding women, I now have to
play slutty Frances at work as well! ... Not even schoolmarm Francess -
Fred, Fred, where are you?
Whatever happened to Fred, Sheila?" I asked hopelessly.
Sheila grabbed my head and kissed me until I was breathless.
"You know that I love you lots and lots - don't you!" Sheila insisted
emphatically.
"I love Fifi/Frances almost as much as I love Fred - maybe more as time
goes on?
"Barbara loves Fifi to bits, and she loves Fred - but not as much as she
loves Fifi.
"Everybody in the office likes you - I accidentally overheard them saying
that you aren't the same overbearing, cold-hearted cow that Sheila is -
so cheer up, Frances.
"You were Fifi in private for years, when you were married to Barbara -
so you must be used to being dressed this way."
I sighed and hung my head.
"There's work to be done!" Sheila exclaimed brightly, and I perked up,
and generated enthusiasm. I buried myself in my work, and managed to
forget about Fifi and Fred.
- - - -
7. History
I had just served drinks to Sheila and Barbara. I curtsied trying to
avoid tripping over the ankle chain - Barbara had told Sheila to
gradually introduce bondage into my life.
"Playtime break, Fifi," signalled Sheila, "sit between us on the couch.
It's personal time."
I did as I was commanded, and two arms snaked around my waist
affectionately - one hand - Barbara's I think - descended to massage my
backside, but I did not react.
"Barbara, I want to know all about you and my husband." Sheila leant
forward to glance at her.
"Well, Sheila, when I first met Fred, I thought he was a total loser. We
were both at university, and he was antisocial and avoided people -
chronic shyness - a waste of time for a busy party-goer like me. I was a
popular, pretty student with lots of friends.
"Then there was the scandal of me-and-the-vice-chancellor, and my social
life evaporated. I gritted my teeth and hung on at university, but it was
agony - everybody knew all the details, and all my friends had deserted
to avoid taint by association.
"It was very hard! - And one day Fred sat next to me in the canteen, and
asked if I objected to his sitting near. I was surprised and relieved -
another human being not afraid to talk to me. We initially talked about
inane things, and I later opened the flood gates to explain my obsession
with architecture. I was surprised by Fred's knowledge and intelligence.
I looked at him more closely and decided that he was quite attractive.
"I decided that I wanted Fred, and when we graduated, we were married.
"There you are, Sheila - a potted history of Barbara and Fred!"
"You know that's not what I meant, Barbara!"
"Well, ok, Fred was working for a big communications company - we were
living on his salary - I hadn't found any work as an architect. His boss
was always giving him a hard time, and Fred always came home shattered
and weary. You know the syndrome, Sheila - Boss gets a hard time - He
kicks his underlings - They kick their underlings - and so on.
"It started with me giving Fred massages when he got home. Fred would
trance out during a massage, and was always totally refreshed afterwards.
"But the massaging cut into my own time too much, so I experimented. I
thought if Fred was prevented from pacing and talking, he might trance
out without me being there, so I started to use rope to tie Fred up.
"The simple ties and gags began to lose effectiveness, but ever more
severe restraints restored the calming value of the experience.
Eventually cross dressing became necessary , and my dormant kink began to
surface.
"Eventually Fred became my fully-feminised French maid slave sharing my
housework, and being bound - and later tortured - to suit my pleasure.
"I congratulate myself that I saved Fred from mental breakdown from
pressure at work.
"I know he was a reluctant crossdresser, but he loved me enough to endure
whatever I wanted - until I went too far - and he divorced me and left
me!" Barbara burst into tears, and hugged me tightly, and my eyes wetted
as I hugged her in return.
"Barbara, you nearly killed me ..." I whispered, "you were getting far
too ambitious with your fantasies..."
Sheila joined our hug, and we stayed hugging and sobbing quietly for a
while.
"And now little Karl is dead as well ..." wailed Barbara, and this
started more tears and hugging.
"Are you exaggerating, Fifi?" Sheila asked quietly.
Barbara made an effort and dried her tears.
"No, Sheila, I did nearly kill my darling Fifi ... I had been playing
breath-control with Fifi for ages, and decided that it would be more fun
to do it underwater.
I had set up underwater cameras to record it all to relive the pleasure
afterwards.
Fifi was fully dressed and made-up, and handcuffed behind, I marched her
to the end of the diving board - she was seriously protesting - but I
ignored her. I attached a bar weight to her ankle hobble, and pushed her
in. I jumped in after her and watched her sink to the bottom. I could
clearly see the glorious sight of the helpless maid-in-distress falling
to her doom - I was euphoric. I swam down to be ready to place the
waiting mouthpiece in Fifi's mouth after a suitable delay.
It was brilliant watching Fifi squirm, but when she was sufficiently
desperate,
I pushed the mouthpiece into her mouth and ... nothing happened.
The tank had been lying at the bottom of the pool while I had been
preparing Fifi.
The mouthpiece must have floated enough to release all the air from the
tank before I returned to the pool with Fifi. I was offering an empty air
supply to my poor drowning Fifi. I scrambled down to Fifi's ankles to
release the attached weight and grabbed her neck as I pushed for the
surface. I gasped for air as we surfaced, but Fifi was limp and
unresponsive. I dragged us both out of the water, and started artificial
respiration.
Have you ever tried giving artificial respiration to a fully bound and
corseted maid? After a few minutes - it seemed an eternity - Fifi coughed
and spluttered and expelled some water.
I cuddled my soggy bound maid while sobbing gratefully, and then
eventually in a normal voice Fifi asked to be dried off and be given a
blanket. I wrapped her in the towels like an Egyptian mummy."
Barbara burst into tears again at the end of the confession, and we all
cried and hugged in empathy.
Suddenly Sheila was puzzled. "You have a pool?" she asked surprised. "And
it must be a big one to have a diving board?"
"Yes," replied Barbara, "I don't use it now, it's under a weatherproof
cover to keep the leaves out - you wouldn't have seen it - Yes it's
Olympic size - I went mad and bought it one sunny day ..."
"But that must have cost a fortune!" Sheila voiced out aloud.
"Yes, I suppose it did - but I'm as rich as Croesus, and as tight as a
duck's ... thingummy."
Sheila froze and stared at Barbara, "Did Fred know you were rich?"
"Yes, darling, he did. I told him before I pushed him into asking to
marry me.
"He said 'Fine by me, but I'll be the breadwinner in our family', and
bossed me around in all my finances. He inspected all my holdings in the
funds, and insisted on full independent audits annually. He was good for
me - I had always been a slacker after I got my inheritance.
"I hope you don't mind, Sheila, but I've employed Fred as my financial
consultant ever since our divorce? I suppose that I shall now have to
give that job to Frances?"
Barbara giggled gently.
"Fifi, not Fifi - Fred," Sheila began to address me. "Why didn't you tell
me all this?"
"It wasn't and isn't very important, and has little relevance to 'US'.
Besides it's Barbara's private affairs, and I should not like to break a
trust nor a confidence."
I replied quietly.
"Thank you," Barbara interjected, "but now that we're all intimate
friends, you need not keep any of my secrets from Sheila - I don't
suppose you told her about the loan? Did you?"
"I can recognise a hint when it's slapped across my face." I grinned.
"Sheila - when I divorced Barbara, I asked her for a rather large loan to
start up the company, and she very kindly gave me the loan at 'tracking-
base-rate' of interest.
"After the divorce Barbara and I remained good 'telephone-friends'."
"Sheila, Fifi is missing out so many details ... When we divorced, Fred
insisted on hiring a divorce lawyer for me to protect my interests - but
I didn't actually need a lawyer, because Fred was acting in my best
interests. Fred insisted that there was zero shared property and assets,
and walked away with nothing from the divorce except the business loan."
Barbara grabbed my head, and kissed me breathless.
When she let me go, she continued, "Sheila, you've won a damn good
husband, and I've lost one!"
Sheila laughed. "Don't worry, Barbara, we can both share Fifi - What do
you say to a 'menage au trois'?"
"I say 'Bonjour les deux, j'arrive tout de suite!'"
"Don't I get a say in this?" I demanded.
"No, Fifi, you don't!" they chorused together and laughed as I pulled a
face at them.
We sat quietly just enjoying each others company until late.
- - - -
8. Funeral
"On a serious note, Barbara," Sheila remembered a forgotten duty, "the
funeral is tomorrow."
Barbara shuddered and tensed, so I cuddled her more tightly.
"I've ordered the sedan to arrive here at three o'clock - Can you slip
back to your house to get your black dress and hat - I can lend you a
veil?"
Barbara hugged me tightly and Sheila continued,.
"Frances and I need to work in the morning, but we'll be back in time to
get ready.
"Do you want Fred or Frances to come with us?" she asked.
"I want Fifi to stand beside me all the time, and I want my best friend,
Sheila to stand on my other side." Barbara' s voice cracked and then
recovered.
"I can grab my dress early tomorrow - Can I spend the morning with you at
your office - I don't really want to be alone before the funeral."
Sheila breathed a sigh of relief. "Certainly, that's fine. You can keep
us company - and because there's no Fifi at the office, perhaps, Barbara
might supply Frances and me with coffee and tea?" We all laughed at that
for three different reasons.
- - - -
Barbara arrived at the office after the receptionist, and was halted at
reception until she obtained her visitor's badge. The receptionist paged
me to fetch her. We greeted formally for the benefit of the receptionist,
and I tottered in front as I conducted Barbara to my office.
Barbara was laughing. "That girl asked me whether I was looking for a
secretary's job, and I told her 'yes'."
I laughed with her. Barbara the qualified, brilliant architect
forthrightly intimidating to all her potential bosses, and privately rich
- Barbara as a secretary - definitely funny. I buzzed through to Sheila,
and she joined us in my office and joined in the laughter, but I detected
a sudden glint in Barbara's eye, which had gone as soon as I looked
again. Sheila went back to her office and I explained to Barbara what I
was doing - but quickly diverted my real secretary to work under Sheila.
I knew Barbara needed to feel useful, so I had her finding files for me,
and running to the photocopier. I could see it in her eyes - if she was
going to be treated like a secretary - she was determined to be a damned
good one.
Eventually, the time rolled around for a very late lunch, and we three
returned home to eat and get ready. Barbara fussed with my make-up, and
apart from another black veil from Sheila I was already dressed how
Barbara wanted me.
Of course, the two genuine females wanted to take forever in our two
bathrooms, and it was left to me to make excuses to the sedan driver when
he arrived.
Finally we all left for the funeral. Sheila and I sandwiched Barbara
between us and held her hands.
The hearse was already waiting outside Barbara's house, and as we pulled
in behind it, it set off, and so we followed it, and a stream of black
sedans materialised behind us.
- - - -
After the funeral, everybody came back to Barbara's house for the wake.
The caterers had already let themselves in, and were waiting for us.
Barbara led the way - followed by Sheila and then me.
"You're late!" a caterer hissed in my ear as I entered.
What was the fellow on about? Why complain to me that the proceedings
were late?
"Quick get in the kitchen!" he hissed and handed me an apron.
"Staff should be on time and use the side entrance - not the front door -
and mixing with the clients!"
I was confused and so another caterer bustled me into the kitchen, and
tied the maid's apron around my waist. He handed me a maid's cap, and
then a tray of drinks. and a tray of sandwiches.
I went with the flow. I took the trays into the lounge and served all the
guests.
Sheila tittered behind her hand as I served her, and Barbara almost
choked on her sandwich, but stood up to kiss my cheek to the
consternation of the guests.
"Fifi is my very own maid," she explained. "We have shared the loss of
Karl together!"
There was a general murmuring, and then the respectful conversations
resumed.
- - - -
"I think that I shocked Karl's relatives," Barbara suggested later. "They
thought that I was saying that Karl was banging my maid!" she laughed,
and Sheila and I joined in.
"A fig for Karl's relations! They never wanted to visit when he was alive
- I expect most of them came to see if there were any pickings to be
had!"
"You don't know that, Barbara!" Sheila admonished. "Be nice - for Karl's
sake."
Barbara looked sad, so I hugged her, and she kissed my cheek.
"Back to work tomorrow!" I said to change the tone of the conversation.
"Yes, about that ..." Barbara began. "I want to be Frances's secretary!"
she blurted.
I looked at Sheila, and Sheila looked at me, and we burst into laughter
at the excellent joke.
"Stop laughing!" Barbara demanded - stamping her foot. "I'm serious. I
have run out of interesting hobbies at home and have nobody all day. I
don't want to be lonely, so a job would suit me. - And where better to
work than with the two dearest people in my world.
I looked at Sheila, and she looked at me, and we both took a deep breath
together.
"Starting salary for new secretaries is ?12000 per year - not very
attractive, eh?" said Sheila.
"Silly girl!" Barbara exclaimed. "I don't need paying. I just want to be
with you both, and to contribute my efforts your enterprise.
"You'll not try to take over or interfere?" I asked. "I know what you're
like!"
"Definitely not!" she replied. "I did alright this morning - didn't I
miss Frances?" she asked me with a mock pleading look on her face. I
laughed and nodded.
"If your boss was Fred, you would be expected to sit on his knee when
asked?" I said.
Barbara looked at me sharply. "I'll sit on your knee, miss Frances, if
you will sit on mine!" Barbara pinged the elastic on my suspenders, and
Sheila laughed. Barbara tittered and then we three all laughed together.
Fifi was returned to her duties fetching night caps, while the grown-ups
chatted amicably.
"Mistresses, may I please be released from corset, cage and boots ...
Tonight is bath night ..." I asked before I retired.
"Yes, but leave your boots and corset here ... I have to ask Barbara the
best way to treat the odour," Sheila replied.
Once unlocked, I discarded the corset and shoes, and disappeared into the
bathroom.
Sheila picked up my corset and sniffed at it and withdrew - passing it to
Barbara.
"Phew! What a stinker! What can we do about it, Barbara?" she asked.
"It's all in hand - My Swiss corsetiere has already dispatched a new
corset for Fifi - it was going to be a surprise - it's a fraction smaller
than this one!" she recalled delightedly.
"No, Barbara, we agreed we had to agree about any changes to-or-for Fifi
- If the new corset can't be adjusted larger, then it must be rejected.
One of us must take Fifi to the shops to get spare shoes and corsets ...
and uniforms ... and ..." Sheila ticked on her fingers.
"You don't understand, Sheila. This is a special corset - the boots are
special as well!
"The boots were custom made in consultation with a leading chiropodist in
Switzerland. Fifi's feet were used to make moulds, and then solid-brass,
exact replicas of her feet and ankles were made, and the chiropodist
directed Switzerland's best boot maker to make these boots ." Barbara
kicked at my discarded boots for empathis.
"They are designed to be worn all day with 50-50 standing and resting ...
High street boots could never compare! They would wreck Fifi's feet
within one day!
"The corset is based on a brass torso sculpted from Fifi's measurements.
It is a calf leather, fine net, mesh sandwiched in two layers of satin,
and hand sewn throughout - it cost a fortune - but it can be worn all day
without causing damp next to the skin - but even these excellent garments
have their limits.
"I have already had confirmation that two more pairs of ballet boots are
on their way.
"I will reorder a corset the same size as this one ... but for now let's
try to clean these ...
"Soap and warm water will do for now - I'll research specialist cleaning
services tomorrow." Barbara sighed and continued, "I am truly sorry about
the smaller corset, Sheila ... It's good to have someone curbing my over-
enthusiam ... Fifi's well-being is so dear to me." Barbara hung her head
and looked sad - until Sheila moved to hug her.
"Of course she is! ... And to me! ... And you to me! We'll keep the small
corset as a jokey threat to keep Fifi in order! How's that sound?"
Barbara perked up. "I'll chase those Swiss orders tomorrow!" And Sheila
kissed her.
"I think we ought to have a spare cock cage for Fifi as well," Sheila
mused.
"Let's get a much smaller one!" exclaimed Barbara. "Sorry, Sheila! Yes,
let's get an identical cock cage for Fifi."
When I finished bathing, I replaced my cleaned-up cock cage and heard the
lock click securely. I sighed. I was cooperating with my own debasement!
The waist-cincher provided was a pleasant change from wearing my corset
overnight, and my pores breathed freely again after scrubbing off all the
make-up.
As my head hit the pillow I quickly drifted into a deep sleep.
Valentina
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