Kriz's The Wrong Paperwork With An Ending By Enduringshades free porn video

Please note: the first half of this story is posted with the blessing of the original author. The content of the first half, and some of the characters and content in the second half, are deemed to be the copyright of the original author. KRIZ'S THE WRONG PAPERWORK WITH AN ENDING BY ENDURINGSHADES On the 28th June 2018 Kriz posted a story on Fictionmania, the sixteenth. But the story was not complete and readers were invited to write and post their own endings; this is my attempt. Kriz thought that the challenge might attract someone who has never written before. Well that's me. I have not revisioned the original story. I have not gone beyond the themes that are so typical of Kriz's stories. I have tried to complete the story in the same style although I cannot match the Kriz's tone and depth of detail, an author whose stories I much enjoy. And the direction I have taken the story may not be what you are expecting, but that can also apply to a story by Kriz. You will need to remember the original story or read it before continuing with this ending. I decided not to write any "the story so far," as my interpretation is more than likely to differ from Kriz's, so instead I have reproduced the original story and then added my ending. Kriz's story was in two parts, Part 2 was unfinished. But in tying in many of the threads and clues left by Kris I wrote more than I expected and adding a Part 3 with an Epilogue seemed natural. It could have been longer! I do encourage other readers to also have a go. What follows is the original posting in full including the author's notes and invitation. My contribution follows on about half way through the story. * * * * * THE WRONG PAPERWORK By Kriz AND .......... THIS STORY IS LEFT UNFINISHED. Anyone who wants to can download as far as the story goes then continue it on to their ending. The scene for the second part is set, I would love for some other people to put their slant on how it should go. Only two conditions: 1) It always remains freely accessible. 2) It gets posted on Fictionmania site first. Reporting the posting on my review section for this story, would enable others to find it. Remember, it's being told in the first person (by the main character). This is a chance for someone, who perhaps hasn't written before, to have a go. I have my own idea how this should carry on and end, and if it's very different from anyone else's, I may complete it myself at a much later date, but in the meantime: HAVE A GO & GOOD LUCK CHARACTERS: Storyteller & main character: Anthony Martin now Trixie Part 1 (Can reappear in Part 2 or not) His Wife: Samantha Martin Her Mother: Cerys Thomas Wife's sisters: Megan (13) Gwen (15) Headmistress: Miss Virginia Small Teacher: Miss Cynthia Hancock Part 2 (As far as it goes but add your own) Property owner & Cerys's Sister: Gwen Jones Head Housekeeper: Ms Smythe Known as Cook: Arthur Jones THE WRONG PAPERWORK PART I JUST A LITTLE SNIP Right from the start I must point out that I knew I wasn't the most eligible bachelor in the world, in spite of my money. My parents died without my Mother's fondest wish, to see me happily married off. The reason was quite simple, I'm only five feet one inch tall, not short enough to be called a 'midget' but not tall enough to be called anything other than a rude name. A few women dated me in my early twenties, but the first mention of a pre-nuptial agreement, and they went scurrying off. "Sorry Tony (or Anthony) marrying you is just not worth it," they would say. Samantha was different, her family didn't have a great deal of money, but her widowed Mother, Cerys Thomas, was what I would describe as comfortably off, having been left a six bed roomed house, with substantial savings and life insurance, by her late husband. Sam loved travelling, eating in fine restaurants and going to the theatre. She pointed out to me that size isn't everything, and after only four months of courtship she gladly signed the pre-nup., and we were married, quietly. She didn't want to spend my money on a lavish affair, she just wanted to be Mrs Anthony Martin. The only thing that she was adamant about, was that she didn't want children. I was twenty one when we married, and weighed 100lbs soaking wet, and Sam was five inches taller and half as much as me again in weight. Her Mother and two sisters, fifteen year old Gwen and Megan, thirteen, came to the ceremony, both big girls for their ages. I was very self conscious in their presence, but we didn't plan to spend long with them, as I had a large house myself, in England. For the first few months Sam took the pill, but it upset her stomach and eventually she persuaded me to have a vasectomy. We were staying with her mother at the time, in an obscure part of Wales where all the locals spoke Welsh, or at least I think they started speaking it when a non- Welsh speaker entered their company. Perhaps it was just me being paranoid, especially as Sam was able to mostly translate for me. "Anthony," she said one day, "I've made an appointment for your vasectomy at the private clinic that Mother uses. Now, are you sure you want to go through with it?" "We've discussed this round and round Sam," I replied, "you know that we can't continue with you being sick all the time, and you know that I've agreed it's a good idea. Besides, these days they can usually reverse it if we change our minds." Now I've been a careful man ever since my parents passed. I was worried that, if something went wrong, my estate would be tied up for years, I happen to know that I have cousins who would love to get hold of the family wealth. I therefore asked Sam's Mother's solicitor to meet us at the clinic to deal with a few matters, I believe that Sam suggested it originally, and I valued her input. On the morning of my appointment, we arrived en masse and started signing forms which the solicitor and Sam's Mother Cerys witnessed. I should explain that Cerys is a Welsh given name, derived from the Welsh for 'love'. Many of the forms were in English first, then in Welsh, but I happily signed a limited power of attorney for my wife, giving her control of our finances, just while I was having treatment from the clinic. If something went wrong, she would be able to act on my behalf. Most of the conversation was in Welsh, I just signed where I had to, then my solicitor and my Mother-in-law left, and as soon as I was settled in my bed, Sam followed suit. I thought it a little strange, I was under the impression that this was purely an outpatients procedure, but Sam told me that this clinic was just being very careful. Left on my own, I found it difficult to communicate, as all the staff spoke in Welsh, but it wasn't long before a senior looking nurse came and gave me an injection. The next I knew, Sam was looking into my eyes. "Darling, can you hear me?" I sort of grunted, but my throat felt sore to speak. "Don't try to talk darling, I have to tell you that you will feel better soon, but the doctor is going to put you out for a little while longer." I felt strange, but realised that I was waking for a second time and Sam was still there with my solicitor. "Darling, I don't want you to speak for a minute, will you just listen and nod? Good, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. The papers we signed, for your vasectomy. Well by coincidence there was another Mr Martin who came into this clinic the morning after you. Now, you won't believe this, but that Mr Martin was coming in for gender re- assignment surgery. Mummy and I didn't really read the paperwork that we all signed, in any case, my Welsh isn't as good as it should be. Anyway, the long and short of it is that the other Mr Martin had a vasectomy, so you can probably guess by now what you had." "What?" I exclaimed the question, but I couldn't tell for a moment who had spoken, the voice was so unfamiliar. I even looked round to see if there was a young girl in the room. There wasn't, it was my voice. "Someone here realised something was wrong, when they didn't recognise the Mr Martin they had been treating for gender dysphoria, so of course they called a halt to proceedings. Unfortunately they had already done the body sculpturing, your voice, and started to remove most of your penis, but before they took off your testicles, they stopped what they were doing." "Tell them to change me back!" the little girl's voice shrieked. "Darling, I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. The best they could do was to give you a flat crotch, by stitching up what was left of your sack, as best they could, and making sure that you can pee properly, although that will have to be done sitting down until they can get you back into surgery. The point is, that can't be done straight away, and they will want to discuss with you, where they go from here." "I'm afraid that is all that can be done for the moment Mr Martin," the solicitor spoke for the first time, "I'm afraid that we have no recourse against the clinic, as all the paperwork was signed for what was done. I, of course, was not party to discussion of your procedure, I was simply here to act as a witness." I then became so agitated, that the doctor had to put me out again. The third time I woke I tried to be pragmatic, and started by asking Sam how long I'd been it the clinic. When she told me that it was nearly four weeks, I was staggered and decided then and there that I should take steps to get home. "Darling, I think you should consider how you want to dress," Sam told me. "Have a look in the mirror at your face." I didn't think it was me when I saw the reflection. My eyebrows were thin and arched, my nose reduced in size to a cute 'button', my lips were what I think used to be called Clara Bow shaped, only a little thicker, and puckered in a very feminine way. The whole look of my face was changed by my jaw being reduced and my ears were smaller and flat against my head, the hair on which, was pulled into two pig tails, tied with yellow ribbons. "You see what I mean?" my wife asked me, I sat in stunned silence, it was so much more worse than I had imagined. "I'm not at all sure you would look right in your old clothes, quite apart from your body. I think it's time you had a look at what you're going to have to live with, at least for a while." As she helped me out of bed, I realised that I was wearing a cotton nightdress, decorated with tiny pink flowers. She helped me stand in front of the full length mirror on the back of the door. Then she lifted the nightie over my head and I nearly fainted. Standing in front of me appeared an apparently perhaps, sixteen year old girl, pert 'B' cup thirty two inch breasts, with nipples engorging as I looked, and a narrow waistline any woman would die for. I had perfectly pale, smooth, unblemished skin, but worst of all I seemed to have a slightly pronounced mons pubis, with a distinct and seemingly deep cleft down the middle. In other words, what looked like the genitalia of a teenage girl, but I was completely devoid of any hair, anywhere on my body or face, except for those thin eyebrows and lush lashes. My body accurately reflected my young girl's voice. I asked when I could talk to a doctor about this, but Sam warned me that they were reluctant to talk to me directly, because they didn't want any sympathy they might express, to be part of any litigation, but that they had given her and her mother all the information. "One thing you mustn't worry about is that what looks like your mons, are actually your testicles, what is left of your penis is set between them. That will be what they have to rebuild, when the time comes, but in the meantime you will have to wipe whenever you pee." She took a deep breath. "You see the problem darling," Sam was trying to be patient, "your shirts won't fit over your chest, your trousers won't fit over your behind and will be too loose at the waist. Apart from all that, you'll look like a schoolgirl dressed as a man." I sat back down on the bed. "What do you suggest?" I asked, knowing pretty damn well what the answer was going to be. "I've brought two bags of going home clothes. One has your old clothes in, the other has clothes more suited to your new, if temporary body. It's up to you to choose." "I suppose I'd better dress in the latter, I'll have to shelve my men's things for the time being." I had to accept the inevitable. Even in my pragmatic frame of mind, Sam's choice of clothes unsettled me, it was the uniform of a local girls' private school, the one her sisters went to, right down to the blazer and tie. My feelings didn't improve when I found they were hand-me-downs from one of Sam's sisters. "Frankly, Anthony, I thought that with your appearance and, let's face it, your height, you might be mistaken for a girl playing truant. I thought it safest to pretend that you are at school, but had a doctor's appointment. It's an easy excuse to make, and could save you quite a bit of embarrassment. You know I always try to do things for the best." We exited the clinic and drove to her Mother's house without incident, and I felt, once I was indoors, I could relax. Sam and Cerys had gin and tonics, Sam suggested that I start to act in the part of the girl I now appeared to be by only having a cola, joining her sisters, Gwen and Megan. The girls were actually much enamoured by my changes, thirteen year old Megan claiming that now they would have to baby-sit me. I was a little annoyed that she wasn't reprimanded, but I realised that if I didn't want to attract attention, I needed to behave like the little girl I seemed to be. "You are going to be trapped this way for a while," Sam told me, "the doctor said that it would be two or three months before your body has recovered enough to take another major operation, like you've just had. We have to plan exactly what we are going to do during that time, after all you can't stay housebound, you'll go crazy." I had to agree and ask what she suggested. "Well, first of all, we can't keep calling you Anthony. You need a girl's name, and it needs to sound modern." She gave some thought. "How about Trixie? That sounds modern, and is nothing like Anthony." I indicated that I couldn't care less, what I was called. "Now, another thought has struck me." Sam was thinking fast. "I don't think that you should come out of all this trauma and inconvenience without some form of compensation. We can't force the Clinic to pay anything, because they say it was due to our negligence. Have you any idea how we can get compensation, perhaps by bending the rules a little?" "I have an idea," Cerys spoke up. "I know the directors of the clinic very well, and one of them owes me, I can't say what for, but he owes me big time. You carry a hefty life insurance, don't you, Anthony, I mean Trixie?" "Yes, I do." I couldn't see what that had to do with it. "Suppose that you had died in the clinic, while you were under anesthetic, you would get how much? If you don't mind me asking." "I think it's around ten million." "Well leave it with me, I'll see if there is anything I can do." "In the meantime," Sam suggested, "we explain your presence as being my young niece, Trixie, who has come to stay with us for the summer, and the first thing we have to do is to buy you a complete wardrobe, we'll start on that tomorrow morning." "I don't have to come with you, do I?" I whined. "You have all my measurements that the clinic gave you." "Of course you do, silly," Sam was adamant, "we need to see how the clothes look on you. A teenage girl would never wear something that didn't suit her, and if you did, it would seem odd. I really am thinking of making sure you have no humiliating moments because of this and the only way to do that is for you to act, and be treated like any other teenage girl. Talking of which, you must call me Auntie or Auntie Sam, and mummy as Auntie Cerys all the time, Because if you don't, you will make a mistake in public, you can see that, can't you Trixie?" "I suppose so... Auntie." "Another thing," the list of things Sam was changing was getting longer, "it's obvious that we can't have sex, at least in the normal way now. Don't you think that it would save a lot of frustration, if we put all your new things in one of the guest rooms?" I was embarrassed discussing this aspect in front of her mother, not that Cerys seemed to mind, but again I had to reluctantly agree. In spite of what I felt earlier, I was beginning to feel that the sooner we could get to the shops and away from these topics of conversation, the better. As we got in the car, another reality hit me. I wouldn't be allowed to drive for the duration of this problem., I just appeared far too young and the wrong sex for my licence. Explaining my predicament to a line of policemen, just didn't bear thinking about. There was a good sized shopping centre a few miles away, and there we parked, first of all heading to a store selling 'women's intimate apparel' as it described itself. The first thing 'Auntie Sam' had me do was to try on several bras, varying from the mundane to the frivolous. We bought six sets consisting of bra, panty, chemise and suspender belt, as well as several white bras and many more panties, of all shapes and some going down to the briefest of g-strings. A pack of ankle socks with various coloured trim, then fistfuls of pantyhose and stockings were thrown into the cart with seeming abandon. Last purchases there were half a dozen nightdresses. Next was a 'Teen Fashion' store, where I had to try on, what seemed like, dozens of dresses, blouse and skirt combinations, and even three swimming costumes, a one piece and two very revealing bikinis. As 'Auntie' pointed out, there could hardly be a dispute over my apparent gender wearing one of the latter. By the time we left there we had to go back to the car just to unload our purchases, then returned to reload, stopping off for a snack lunch while we had little to carry. Two shops along from the dress shop was an accessory store, where they offered ear piercing. Auntie told me that she would have liked me to get three piercing in each ear, but that it was too much for my age, so I just had one in each, with small gold studs inserted. She went mad over other items of jewellery however, and we came away with two appropriate watches and too many bracelets, necklaces and earrings to count. She did tell me that shopping was a not very secret vice of most women, and even though it wasn't things for her, she was enjoying herself. Then we started a trawl of shoe shops, mostly nothing outlandish, two inch block or wedge heels being the norm, but she did buy a couple of pairs of four inch stilettos, so that, according to her, I could get used to them. I asked her why I needed to and she just told me that every girl did. All together I accumulated about ten pairs, adding a couple of raincoats from another shop we passed en route. One thing I was relieved about, we bought very few cosmetics, I was told that I was too young for a lot, just some tinted lip gloss, mascara and some nail varnishes with a bottle of remover. Of course, all day I was in the same school uniform that I had come home from the clinic in. Our last port of call was a 'teen' type shop, which also sold uniforms. When I queried that, Auntie told me that as I'd complained about having thirteen year old Megan's old clothes we were going to buy me new ones. I was told that I would need an overcoat, beret, a spare blazer and tie, together with at least several spare blouses, skirts, and socks. The sales assistant also pointed out that I would need their approved panties and short skirt for games, shoes for gym and dance, together with a leotard, and a regulation swimsuit. We could hardly say that I wouldn't really be going, so we bought all the ancillary items as well. "You're so lucky," the assistant told me, "it's well known as a marvellous finishing school and I heard it's very difficult to get a place. I haven't personal experience of it, of course." 'Auntie' and I just made the appropriate noises. It took nearly and hour to put away all my purchases in my new bedroom, mainly because by the time we got back to my mother-in-law's house Megan and Gwen had arrived home and they wanted to see everything. If they'd had their way, I would have had to model everything as well, but fortunately we had been warned that we would have tea at five thirty, then the girls had to do their homework. "You mustn't take this wrongly, Trixie," my wife, I mean Auntie, told me, "But here the girls have tea, do their homework, then have an hour to themselves before bedtime. Mummy, Aunt Cerys and I, both agree that if you don't want to be caught out in an embarrassing situation, you should do the same." "What about dinner?" I asked. "I'm sorry, Trixie, only the adults in this house have dinner, the children eat at lunch time and then only have tea. What would happen if we had a visitor and they saw a young girl up late, talking to the adults?" Life wasn't treating me well, I thought, it wasn't as if the mix up was my fault. It wasn't helped when Auntie Cerys gave me a school biology book, for me to study while the girls did homework. It was all about human bodies, and seemed to spend an inordinate number of pages dealing with the reproductive organs. Really! What a thing to show young girls, it would be enough to put them off men for life. At nine o'clock Auntie Cerys called upstairs to tell us all to go to bed. I ask you. Nine o'clock! Mind you I did seem a bit tired, I think it must have been all that shopping. I did think of Sam as I lay there, and started to get a bit randy. It's the first time since before I went to have my operation. I tried to Jack myself off, but rubbing between my legs did nothing and when I did it harder, it hurt, just like I was squeezing my balls. I ended up falling asleep frustrated. I had to get up the next morning the same time as the girls, and had breakfast with them. Auntie Sam came down a little weary eyed, then look serious. "I'm afraid we have to go a step further with you than we anticipated." She told me, holding me on the shoulder. "We had a couple of friends of Mummy round last night, just for a chat, and one of them is Headmistress at Megan and Gwen's school. I thought it best to mention that you are staying here for a couple of months, which seemed sensible enough at the time. But Virginia, that is Miss Small the Headmistress, said that you should be enrolled with them rather than miss out on your education. I tried to get out of it by saying that there were personal problems at home for you, and it might not be legally possible for you to get transferred. She just said that, for the sake of two or three months, they wouldn't insist in asking for your records, they would simply give you their own test to place you appropriately in the class here. I'm sorry, Trixie, but you have to go to school with the girls, and remember your surname is now Thomas. I'm sure you will be OK." "But couldn't you explain that I'm ill, that I'm still being treated by the clinic?" I pleaded. "After all it is true." "You would still have to attend school, it's the law." Auntie Cerys wasn't about to help me. I ended up catching the school bus with the girls, Auntie Sam was told to come in at ten thirty to discuss how my tests went and to work out my curriculum. The tests were awful. I'd completely forgotten so many things in the five years since I left school, without any significant qualifications, I hasten to add. With my money, I didn't need to work. I hated going to the Headmistresses study with my Auntie to face the music. "Mrs Martin, I'm sorry to tell you that Trixie didn't do at all well in her tests," she reported. "I'll admit her, but I'm afraid that she will have to join her cousin Megan, in her class. Even then, I hope it won't stretch her too much." I was going into a class of thirteen year olds. "Now I would like to discuss her subjects." The Head continued. "She obviously hasn't a great academic bent, but we aim to equip our students with what they need to follow their most likely careers. In Trixie's case I would recommend the following subjects outside the key ones of maths, English and biology: Home economics, cosmetology, shorthand, typing and of course, dance and games. That would start her off and we could see if other subjects present themselves as being within her scope of competence." "Biology is a key subject?" queried Auntie Sam. "Girls of her age, must be prepared for real life, and that includes both the more sordid side, and an understanding of how to make the most of opportunities, to both receive and give pleasure, and look after their own and their family's well being." "Well, I suppose I must go by your recommendation, Virginia, after all, you are the expert." "Good, that's settled then, just one more thing before you both leave. I would like to warn Trixie, that as a private school, we reserve the right to punish our pupils for misdeeds. We still carry out corporal punishment here, administered by myself. We require parent or guardian to sign acceptance of this recourse. I always have a witness to such punishments, usually another member of staff, but as your guardian, your Aunt has the right to be that witness, this is to ensure that it is all above reproach. Trixie, that is the bell going now, so if you would like to go out to my secretary, and wait in her office, she will give you your timetable. Then tomorrow, you can come in your uniform with your cousins, and Megan will be able to show you where to go." With that I was dismissed. I was from then on officially a schoolgirl, without a say in it myself. The next morning, as was expected of me, I went to school with my 'cousins', enduring a number of questions from their friends. I managed to construct what I thought was a reasonable back story, then, once in the classroom, and the day started I was introduced to my fellow pupils by our form Mistress, Miss Hancock. I soon learned that her nickname was Miss Hand Job, so much for the girls needing to be taught the facts of life. After we filed in for morning assembly, we were led through a short, non- denominational service, then the Head announced that complaints had been received, of pupils drinking alcohol at lunchtime. We were reminded that this was a very serious offence and if anyone was caught, they would be punished severely. After all my mental torture of the last twenty four hours, the actuality of going back to school, wasn't too bad. At lunch, Megan found me and was surprisingly friendly, but the afternoon bought with it my first real embarrassment. We had to change for dance class, which was ballet. The class was held in the main hall, on the stage, and we had to use the changing rooms behind. I had to try to avert my eyes from many of the girls, who had no qualms in wandering around naked. It wasn't right, I was a man in a young girls' changing room. I had to join in the dancing, copying the others as far as possible, but when they rehearsed the production they were doing for the school concert, those playing female parts, had to wear a tutu, distinguishing them from the male characters. Much to my dismay, I was one of the 'girls', as in the scene they were rehearsing, all I had to do was to be lifted, and supported off by a 'man'. The girl playing that part was Megan, who was chosen because of her height. She easily lifted me and did a little spin as she carried me off stage. The teacher asked one of the other girls to give me some idea of a number of the ballet steps that they already knew, as a start for me catching up. That night, while we were doing our homework, Megan and Gwen both tormented me by saying that I must be some sort of pervert, mixing with thirteen year olds, while they were nude. Of course they really knew what had happened, but they couldn't resist teasing me, but Gwen went beyond acceptable norms by lifting her dress and pulling her panties down. "Do you like what you see, Trixie?" "Cover yourself up!" I practically shouted. "That isn't funny." The trouble was that I went to bed that night with a picture in my mind that no grown man should have. What was worse was that I became extremely randy when my thoughts wandered off to imagining my wife. It tool a long while to get to sleep, suffering as I was from blue balls. School the next day was even worse than my first. We had games and played netball and at first I was worried that I would hurt some of my classmates, being a man and all. No such problem. They played like demons and it was me in harm's way most of the time. I had to avert my eyes as we all showered in together afterwards, it's not right, I decided that I should get Sam, I mean Auntie, to write a note excusing me from physical activities. Auntie point blank refused to do any such note when I asked her. She said that it would only draw attention to me, and that was the last thing that I should want. With much regret, I suppose that I had to agree with her. The rest of the week went by without a major incident, in fact as each day passed, Megan and Gwen gradually became more friendly with me, so that by Saturday they invited me to go to the Mall with them to meet up with their friends. If it wasn't for having to wear an almost indecently short mini skirt I think I would have really enjoyed myself. I joined the group of five or six girls, mainly to go window shopping but we also hung around at the coffee bar, and made ourselves annoying to any groups of boys that happened to pass. I must admit that, having been on the receiving end of such abuse over many years, it was fun to be on the other side. On Sunday we all had to dress up to go to church, something I've only done very rarely before, and then only if I couldn't get out of it. Auntie told me that I would be going into school late tomorrow, she had already spoken to Ms Small, and the Head understood that it was important. "I've been worried for some time," My wife, I mean Auntie told me, "I still have the Power of Attorney over your finances, and I don't like the responsibility. I'm particularly aware that you don't have access to your own funds until everything is put right. You obviously can't even go signing your name to anything until that happens, so I've arranged with the bank to open a current account in your temporary name, Trixie Thomas, and just put twenty thousand in it. Once you've signed the papers at the bank tomorrow, they'll give you a bank card and you won't be relying on me to give you hand outs of your own money. I hope that's alright, Trixie? I can put more money into the account if and when you want, but hopefully you won't have to wait that long before everything's back to normal." I thankfully agreed and was grateful for her consideration. In the morning we drove into town for the appointment, and very quickly we were seated in the Manager's office. "Now you have to be very careful with all that money, young lady," the Bank Manager told me as I gave my specimen signatures to open the account. I nearly blurted out that I was used to handling sums that would almost buy his nationally known bank outright, but refrained in time. "Your Uncle was very generous to you, wasn't he?" This puzzled me, because I knew that it was my wife that had arranged things, but I just agreed with the man and otherwise held my tongue. I intended to ask 'Auntie' about it once we were outside, but the bus came along that I had to catch to get to school, so I dismissed it as unimportant. As I was making my late entrance to the school, one of the girls that had been with us on Saturday, at the Mall, called over to me. "Pssst...Come with me," she whispered, "we're going to meet up with the others." I followed her round the side of the building, to the lean-to sheds where the school visitors parked their cars. Squeezing between two of them, I saw a couple of the others that I recognised, but not Megan or Gwen. When I asked about them, I was told that they would join us when the school was let out for lunch. They passed me a large brown paper bag with something inside. It was a bottle of Single Malt Scotch, my favourite tipple and something I'd really missed. I was invited to take a swig, which I savoured and swallowed before passing it on. We squatted behind the sheds for a few minutes when, as well as the scotch, a cigarette was passed along. I'd never smoked, but didn't want to appear to be an outsider to the girls, so I took a couple of tentative puffs. The scotch bottle was nearly empty when we heard footsteps and assumed that it was the sisters. "What do you think you're doing?" Miss Hancock, my form Mistress was staring down at us. We were all marched off to the Headmistress's study and told to wait outside. One by one the others were taken in, and I could hear the sound of them getting the cane. Miss Hancock stayed to witness their punishment, but came out and walked away before I had been interviewed. I found out the reason soon after. My Auntie arrived and was shown straight into the Head's room. Soon afterwards, I was called. "You have been caught both drinking alcohol and smoking," the Head was very serious, "have you any reason why you shouldn't be punished for those offences?" I shamefacedly admitted that there was no excuse. "In that case you will receive six strokes of the cane now, that is the maximum you can receive at one time and that will be for smoking. For the next two mornings you will report here with your guardian before the time for assembly and on each occasion you will be given a further six for drinking on the school premises. Is that clear?" I just nodded and, close to tears, I lowered my panties, lifted my skirt and leaned over the Head's desk as was indicated. I couldn't believe how much the cane hurt. By the time I had the six, even the action of pulling up my panties was painful and what made it worse was that I had to look at my wife from this humiliating position. I thought for a moment that she was smirking, she was certainly very flushed and it reminded me of how she looked when she fancied sex, however, I put that down to my imagination or her embarrassment. With tears streaming down my face I had to go off to find my classmates. When I got home that night I demanded that Samantha pull me out of the school immediately, to save me from further canings. "Just because you've been a naughty girl, doesn't give you the right to dodge what's coming to you," she told me. For the next two mornings she drove me to school, firstly, she told me, to make sure I attended, but more importantly, because she was forced to be there to witness my punishment for disgracing the whole family. "You're a very bad influence on Gwen, but especially Megan," she scolded me. "What will we do if she starts to copy your bad behaviour? I cannot have that happen, so with the holidays coming up, I am going to have to think of a way to separate her from your bad influence." "But it was her friends that organised it, and she would have been there if we hadn't been caught so quickly," I wailed. "That's right, blame a thirteen year old for your bad behaviour. How low can you sink?" I was sent to bed early as if I was a naughty child, not a twenty one, nearly twenty two year old man. I cried myself to sleep, I seemed to be crying a lot those days. In another three weeks I was delighted to find out that the school would be breaking up for the summer holidays. However I brought home my school report with a sense of impending doom. I knew that it wouldn't be good. It wasn't. Both Aunties called each of us in to see them in turn, I was called last. "You know that the report you've been given is awful, don't you Trixie?" Auntie Cerys asked me. "Yes, but I'm not really a schoolchild, am I?" I countered. "To all intents and purposes you are," said Auntie Sam. "The only thing that you seem to have any affinity with is anything to do with home economics and the reason, so I gather is that you are quite good at laying tables, presenting and serving food. You also seem to be already expert at using cosmetics and hairstyling. Do you enjoy doing those things?" "Yes they are easy, I don't know how I picked up those last things, make up and hair, and so on, but I know about serving food because I've been served it so many times that I can spot when it's done wrongly," I answered honestly. "For a variety of reasons, Mummy and I have decided that you are too much of a liability to have round here all summer." "What do you mean?" I interrupted my wife. "You are not immersed in your part sufficiently, you are going to make us all look fools if you slip up. We're also concerned that you might lead the girls astray, what with your drinking and other bad behaviour. Ms Small recommends that you attend a summer school that my Aunt, Mummy's sister runs, she will teach you to make the most of the few talents you seem to possess. It's on an island, so there would be no danger of you coming into contact with someone who could identify you and tell everyone what you look like now. They are sending a minibus to collect you tomorrow morning, so pack enough clothes to last a week, and anything else you need while you are there we can ship on to you." With that I was dismissed and I couldn't make them listen to anything else I had to say. I went to my room where the two girls came to join me. They made suggestions as to what I should take with me, both remarking that they were going to miss me, and saying their goodbyes because they were going out to meet their friends early in the morning. I didn't sleep well that night, I lay awake trying to work out why I was in such a mess. The next morning, I finished packing my last minute things when both my wife and her mother came into my room. "The bus has arrived to take you to where you are going," my wife told me, then opened the door to a man in a white coat. "Before you leave there is something you need to know. During the course of your operation at the clinic, you died." My mouth dropped open, but she continued: "You'll be pleased to know that you had a lovely funeral, your cousins turned up and pretended to cry. They're still after a share of your fortune, but we're assured they can't touch a penny, and that includes the little matter of the ten million from your life insurance. Oh, I know that's not much, a mere petty cash item compared to the rest, but it's been important to us and worth the wait to sort it all out. You see, you've been involved in faking your own death and making a fraudulent claim, just so that you could get your jollies with all the young girls you've been associating with. You even opened a bank account in an assumed name, it has the twenty grand in it, that's actually real by the way, from the fraud money, so it's no good to say you haven't benefited. That being the case, we might be put inside as accomplices, but you'll go too, and can you imagine the delight of some nice big men, in there for a long time with you as there wives? You probably can, so you see it's in your interest that we get away with this, because you're in as deep as us. I can't promise you that your life now is going to be a bed of roses, but you are going to learn how to earn an honest living. You see, we are sending you to work for Mummy's sister, and you're going to learn on the job, how to be a personal maid. She tells us that she's all ready for you, she's got some of those sexy French maid uniforms that you used to drool over when you were my husband. Don't deny it, I remember when we went to that club and all the waitresses were dressed like it, you could hardly keep your tongue in your mouth. As for me," she carried on even though I was trying to get a word in, "I'm going to be the merry widow. I'm off on a world cruise tomorrow and, who knows, I might even meet a handsome, virile young man to bed me. If I do remarry, I might consider settling down, in which case I shall need a maid, and I will know where to pick one up, fully trained. In the meantime, learn how to do your work well and you will always be employable, I've even left you all that money in your account so you're wealthy, for a servant girl. Oh, sorry, I did forget one thing, you're not a girl, are you? You are still a man, with a man's urges, but I'm afraid that you're going to get awfully frustrated, because there's no way you can satisfy yourself. Even your prostate has been modified, so your nasty man juice can't even be milked from you. Just remember all the times you weren't big enough to satisfy me and left me frustrated, I've just got a bit of own back on you. Bye bye Trixie." With that, they turned and both left the room. I was too stunned to act or speak, and hardly aware of the man in the white coat giving me an injection in my arm, then everything went dark. * * * * * PART II NON-PENILE SERVITUDE (no, not penal) When I woke up I was naked and in a strange bed. I could only look back on what I had been told as a bad dream. In my heart I knew it was true, my wife had married me for my money, she couldn't get it in a divorce, so she had killed me off. I supposed I should be grateful that they hadn't killed me in reality, but it was difficult to feel any gratitude at that moment. On the other hand, condemning me to a life of frustration sexually, in a way was even more cruel. All I could do was to take life as it came and try to look at any life as a gift. I looked around me, surprised at seeing a top of the range TV on the wall opposite the end of the bed. The bedroom wasn't badly appointed, that is it wouldn't be if you were a young star struck girl. The d?cor was a mix of white with pastel mauves and pinks, the floor carpeted with a pink Wilton, the bed had a white net canopy hung over the head, the wall opposite held a very large chest of drawers, above it was a small window and to each side were very suggestive posters of a number of female actresses, singers and dancers. If they were designed to make me more frustrated, it was working. To the left was a very attractive en-suite with bath and shower, with a large wardrobe beside the door, to the right was another one and a vanity unit with a mirror, surrounded by lights and on it were a number of cosmetics already laid out. I had a bad headache but noticed a saucer on the small bedside table with two tablets and a glass of water alongside. I guessed, and hoped, something for my head, and took them. A piece of paper, and on it a note, lay underneath, next to the television remote. Trixie, Get yourself dressed in your mauve uniform, with corset, together with appropriate make up, then go downstairs to the kitchen and report to Cook. Ms Smythe Head Housekeeper. I got up slowly, to cut down on the rotation rate of my head spinning, and went to open the wardrobe next to the bathroom. It was locked. 'That's a good start.' I thought and crossed the room to the other one. This opened and revealed a number of skirts, all with white crinolines sewn into them. I pulled out a mauve one then realised that because of their height, I assumed they were skirts, but in fact they were dresses with what I can only describe as micro-skirts at the bottom. I went to put one on and found that it wouldn't fit my waist. While I pondered the problem, I decided to put my make up on, something that I was well versed in doing. I found false nails, and a selection of matching polishes, lipsticks and a note saying 'use these'. After applying the nails, I put on the rest of my make up, using the same shade of mauve as the dress, for eye shadow, lipstick and nail polish. I took the dress off again and started to search the chest of drawers. In the bottom drawer I found a number of corsets, the type with the front busk, back lacing and half cups for my breasts. Another note was on the top of them stating that a hook for lace tightening was in the door frame leading to the bathroom. I slipped the corset round me, then pulled the laces as tight as I could get them. The dress was closer, but still didn't fit. I remembered the hook and brought the laces near the top over it, then leaned forward. The laces started to shrink the garment tighter. By trial and error, and much panting to get my breath, I managed to get my waist reduced sufficiently so that I could do up the dress. The next problem was reaching down to my feet to place them in the sheer black stockings that obviously went with the suspenders on the corset. I decided that steel in the corset made it almost impossible to bend, and in future I would connect the stockings before I fully tightened the wretched garment. I looked in vain for some proper panties, the only things I could find were minute g-strings, so in the end it was a mauve one of those or nothing, I chose the former. Another shock came when I saw the shoes in a section to one side of the wardrobe. The shortest heel must have been five inches high, and some were six. I selected the shortest I could find in mauve, slipped them on my feet and looked at myself in the mirror on the inside of the door. If it had been the old me looking, I would have cum in my pants. As it was, I found that I was turning myself on, which in my physical condition wasn't something I wanted to do. To take my mind off myself as a sexy vision, I tottered round the room until I could make a fair imitation of walking in those stilts. I took a brief look out of the window but could only see the sea far below, so then decided that I couldn't put off the evil moment any longer, and exited my room. The corridor outside went in both directions, each side with doors spaced along them, but to my right it ended in an obvious dead end, while to my distant left was a door. Opening that led down a flight of stairs, then another, and another. I estimated that there were two flights to each floor, so my bedroom was on the fourth floor, even so that didn't account for the height above the water, the house, I decided must be built on a cliff. At the bottom of the last flight was another door, I tentatively opened it a crack to see an hotel sized modern kitchen. Opening it more I saw an apparently middle aged woman cutting vegetables on a large chopping board. She looked up. "About time you were about," she didn't smile, "it's Trixie, isn't it?" "Yes." I was nervous of the knife. "Yes, Cook, when you speak to me." "Yes, Cook." "Put your kitchen apron on, it's hanging on the back of the door, then put those dirty pans in the dishwasher on the right." I found the voluminous white cover-all and felt considerably less exposed. It was a very frilly, obviously feminine garment, but did cover all my maids' outfit, protecting it against potential dirtying in the kitchen environment. I did as I was told then looked at her, waiting for new instructions. At that moment another woman entered the kitchen from one of the doors on the other side. About forty years old, a big woman, not fat, but muscular, wearing a black pencil skirt and what appeared to be, a starched white blouse. "About time you moved yourself, girl, get that apron off and follow me." I hurried to hang up the apron, then tottered along after the woman I correctly assumed was Ms Smythe. A short corridor led to a large entrance hall with several doors off. I was taken to the second, and last, one on the right and, after knocking and being invited in, we walked into a large living room, easily twenty by forty feet, with picture windows on the left end wall and along the length of the wall opposite. Sitting in an armchair the further side of an unlit fireplace on the left, was a woman who I immediately recognised as bearing a striking resemblance to Cerys, my wife's mother, just a little older. "This is the girl sent by Ms Thomas," the Housekeeper told her, then to me, "Haven't you been taught to curtsey to your superiors, slut?" I hurriedly did an attempt at a curtsey. "Oh dear," she made a face to her employer, "we have some work to do here." "I'm sure you can knock her into place, Ms Smythe." Then she spoke to me. "This house is my home, but I enjoy women with similar hobbies to come and stay from time to time. Your training will teach you how to please them in any way they wish, even if that is unpleasant for you. You must remember that your comfort or feelings matter nothing when it comes to keeping them, and us, happy. Here you are the lowest form of life, you have been told already that you are dead. Don't think that your life here is more important than a bug. If you please us and our visitors, you will receive three meals a day, clothes and lodgings and outside your duties, you will be well treated. Displease us and you will be punished, if the punishment doesn't work, you will leave the island. But remember, for you there will be no boat, no plane, you will leave and float in the prevailing current up to the arctic, never to be found. Remember everyone in this house, or just visiting is your superior and act accordingly." I was dismissed from her presence with a wave of the hand and I again had to follow Ms Smythe out of the room but instead of going back to the kitchen, I had to follow her through a door under the great staircase leading up from the entrance hall. This flight led downwards, was much narrower than the main staircase and spiralled in the same fashion as I had seen in church towers, only in the opposite direction. At the bottom was a heavy door that Ms Smythe had to unlock with an ancient looking key. The hall sized room that presented itself when the lights were turned on, could only be described as a dungeon. About a dozen cell doors with small barred unglazed windows were on two sides, facing a huge open space with what were obviously medieval instruments of torture. It is difficult to describe them, but put simply, I recognised a rack, an iron maiden, a witch's chair, chains hanging on pulleys from the ceiling and walls, a cross, an 'X' cross, a wheel and two types of horse, all fitted with straps to attach the victim. On a long work bench various whips, paddles, canes and other, some metal, hand instruments were laid neatly in rows. There was even a brazier laid up with paper, wood and coals, with various irons already in it, ready for lighting. More prosaic items, such as various types of dildos, were also in evidence as well as other things, large and small the use of which I couldn't and didn't want to guess. Ms Smythe showed me one instrument that she could see I didn't understand, a machine of some sort, mounted on legs bolted to the floor. To the front was a very fat post with straps, obviously to use to fasten someone to it. "I can see you're fascinated by this little toy, Trixie. It's very simple, an automatic spanking machine. You see the miscreant is strapped to the post, then the machine can be set for a number of different strengths, from gentle taps to severe whippings, the frequency can be programmed so that the strokes happen at irregular intervals, and the number of strokes can be set as well, from six to infinity. Then the whole thing can be left to get the job done on it's own, with no aching arm muscles. The really clever part is that the height of each stroke varies, so it only starts repeating the same place after three dozen strokes, of course it becomes that much more painful then. I like to set the timers so that, for example, sixty strokes can be made to last all night, and with a random frequency, the miscreant doesn't know when to expect the next one. It could strike in a few seconds, but might not for, say, twenty minutes." She laughed, I couldn't stop myself shaking, it was a dungeon of horror. "This is our guest's playroom," Ms Smythe told me dispassionately. "They bring their own playthings, husbands mainly, sometimes women, but it's often difficult to tell. They keep them as slaves for the duration, they make them sleep down here as well, while their mistresses enjoy the luxury of living in the guest rooms upstairs. They don't need the slaves, you see. They'll have you to attend to their needs, at least when they're not down here using the various toys you can see. Of course, if you fail to meet their expectations, you may find yourself in one of the cells along side the slaves. Just in case you think you may get sympathy from one of the them, they enjoy the submissive lifestyle almost as much as their mistresses enjoy the domination, so they won't understand if you moan to them. They'll probably report it, then you could experience the spanking machine yourself." After that chilling presentation, we returned to the kitchen, where I helped Cook preparing lunch. All I had to do was to peel potatoes and clean vegetables then put them on to boil. Cook seemed to not be too unfriendly, so I chatted to her for a while. "Are any of you married?" I asked innocently, but I saw Cook stiffen. "Ms Smythe hasn't ever been married, but my name is Arthur Jones, the Mistress is my wife." I stared at her, or presumably him, realising that I had entered a territory that neither of us was comfortable with. "I'm sorry Cook, I shouldn't have asked." "You were bound to find out sooner or later, but I don't want to talk about it, so please drop the subject." We descended into an uncomfortable silence, broken later as we discussed the meal, when I learned that I was to serve the two bosses. Cook told me that today being Thursday, the next day the Mistress was expecting three friends for a long weekend. When I asked if it would only be the three, Cook remarked that of course they would have slaves with them, but they weren't important enough to count. * * * * * The story continues with enduringshade?s contribution NEW CHARACTERS Part II (continued) None Part III Arthur and Gwen Jones's son: Dylan Jones Police officer: Detective Chief Inspector Evans PART II (CONTINUED) "Trixie, did you hear me?" asked Cook. "Oh sorry," I replied, "my mind was elsewhere, what did you say Cook?" "I said, have you served tables before as a servant or a waitress?" "No, today will be the first time for real. I learnt how to lay tables and to present and serve food in domestic science classes at school and I had good reports. I have also experienced table service in a restaurant and of course seen maids in dramas," I replied. "Well at least you will have some idea. You are here to be a personal maid and we appreciate that you will need training. Today?s lunch, I hope, is to give the Mistress and the Housekeeper a chance to see what they have to work with and is not intended to embarrass you. However, if you show disobedience, or even just reluctance, or are not respectful be under no doubt that you will be punished and subject to restraint. If you cooperate and are willing to be a good maid, your future can be not unpleasant. You do look very pretty and innocent, just like a young innocent Victorian girl entering service in a large house. I would advise you to cooperate and act with care," Cook explained in what came across as genuine hope. "Yes Cook, I will try to be a good maid and an asset to the household," I replied politely, as I wasn?t sure where Cook stood or knew about my forced feminisation and abduction. For the time being I was going to play safe and be a young girl and to learn to be a personal maid. "Good start, Trixie," Cook said with a smile. "Lunch will be in the small dining room at 1pm. I have prepared a simple two-course meal. At one, you will knock on the dining room door and wait to be invited to enter. When invited you will enter the room, curtsey, a small dip will be fine, and stand with your legs together, your hands clasped in front and your head lowered slightly. You are not to look at either the Mistress or the Housekeeper. They are your benevolent superiors and you a lowly grateful servant. Got that Trixie?" "Yes, Cook," I responded thinking it would be humiliating, but it could be far worse, especially if I didn't get it right. "One of them will then ask you what you want. You will tell them, still with your head lowered, that lunch is ready and can you be permitted to serve the first course. They, of course, may ask you or instruct you about something else so be prepared and listen. Then return to the kitchen to fetch the food which will be in serving dishes placed on a trolley along with warm plates." Cook continued to instruct me in a similar vein on what was expected of me through the lunch. "Trixie, time to go and lay the table and then come back to prepare the serving trolley." It was now one o?clock, lunch was ready so after checking my appearance I made my way to the dining room and knocked on the door. Everything went smoothly although I was nervous and at times clumsy through lack of practice. The Housekeeper took control and was very stern, she also did most of the talking. When not giving instructions she ignored my presence. The Mistress was quiet during the lunch but did glance at me from time to time. After they left the dining room I cleared up and returned to the kitchen. Cook was not there. I sat down and while waiting reflected on my experience, it seemed to have gone well. Then the Housekeeper walked in and commanded, "Come with me girl!" I followed her and realised we were heading for the Dungeon. She unlocked the door and we entered. She grabbed my arm and dragged me over to a wall from which chains were hanging. She raised my arms and attached a chain to each wrist. She then pulled on a pulley until I was standing with my heels off the ground and only the tips of my toes taking my weight. She smirked, turned and walked out of the Dungeon without saying a word. I lost all sense of time until dusk came and the room fell into darkness. The strain on my arms was becoming excruciating and the rest of my body was aching awfully. Fortunately the iron manacles were lined and my wrists were not damaged though badly bruised, I thought the manacles looked medieval but had a modern touch. The door opened and the Housekeeper entered, unlocked the manacles and me helped down onto the ground, and then walked out leaving the door open. I lay for a while until I had recovered enough to make my way across the Dungeon, the light of a full moon seeping through the cell windows made the Dungeon look eerie but it was enough to avoid bumping into any of the equipment. I crawled up the stairs back to my room and collapsed on my bed, thinking ?what the hell was that all about? I was being punished, but why?? The weekend came and so did the Mistress?s three guests, although of course I could see six people. I showed each guest to their room and, with their companions, helped them unpack. I then took their companions down to the Dungeon to let them in. Each cell was numbered to match a guest room. I had been told not to assist them and to lock the Dungeon on leaving. Everyone had so far been behaving just like regular house guests. The Mistress welcomed her three guests in the guest lounge, where I served them tea. As each entered, they greeted each other like close friends. Meanwhile, their companions were downstairs chatting away in the open area of the Dungeon. I did not serve them tea but there was an urn available. Dinner was at eight. I helped the Mistress dress, but I was only called upon once and asked to iron a guest?s dress. I laid the table for four in the small dining room. They all arrived promptly elegantly attired in cocktail dresses. I served them a four-course meal prepared by Cook along with what I knew to be good quality wines. What surprised me was that their companions were provided with the same food and wines, but as a self-service buffet in the Dungeon. They were still dressed in the clothes they arrived in. Cook joined them when he was not needed in the kitchen. After dinner the guests returned to their rooms. At midnight they emerged wearing the most exotic costumes I had ever seen. There was leather, tight corsets, straps and chains, spikes, masks, thigh boots and platform shoes and holsters with whips. I could not tell which guest was which, but, although black was the predominant colour, I could identify then as red, blue and mauve based on their costumes. They had now taken on the role of dominatrixes. When the dommes entered the Dungeon they each called out their slaves from the cells. They emerged in bizarre and humiliating feminine costumes that made me look, in my French maid costume, as if I was dressed for church. Each duly approached their mistress with heads lowered and in one case on hands and knees; he was wearing a collar to which his mistress, the red one, attached a lead. Shortly afterwards the Mistress, and later Cook, entered similarly dressed as a domme and a very feminine slave. Initially I was shocked but soon realised it is what I should have expected. It was the first time I had seen Cook not wearing kitchen togs and it became clear that Cook?s curves were real. The costume exposed fully developed breasts with feminine areolae and nipples. Firm breasts, a trim waist and womanly hips made a very attractive figure given Cook?s age. Cook looked all woman and I wondered how deep was the transition. No sign of the Housekeeper. Up to now the guests had treated me in a polite and personable way, I wondered if it was going to change as the Housekeeper had intimated to me. Their behaviour did change but not the way I expected. Yes they now ordered me about, not asked, and I was subject to slaps and even some spanking by hand when apparently disappointed with my service. But it was not unduly painful and no bruises, just occasional smarting. I was not asked to perform degrading acts or provide personal services, that was the domain of their companions now slaves, I was just the room maid. I was constantly asked by the guests, never the slaves, to fetch drinks and snacks and various pieces of equipment that had been laid out on the bench. Occasionally I helped strap a slave into, or set up, one of devices. The automatic spanking machine was ignored. There was plenty of spanking, but only ever by hand. I never saw any beating with the ferocity I experienced when caned by the Headmistress. Once I was asked to administer first aid, but it was only for a minor accidental injury; not unexpected given the equipment in the Dungeon. As dawn beckoned the guests retired to their rooms with their slaves following behind. Over the whole weekend none of the cells were slept in. Retiring to my room after the guests had left on the ferry, I reflected on the weekend and it was not what I envisaged. All I saw was role playing between loving couples. The Dungeon and much of its equipment was a fantasy setting, although it looked very realistic to me. I had lit the brazier, but nobody touched the heated irons; the fire was just part of the ambiance. The Mistress hosted similar events most weekends. The guests were mainly regulars and there was an occasional new member. The number of guests varied but their happy demeanor was recurrent. The costumes and games changed, the guests were always women, or looked as if they were, and were the dominant partners. Their companions could be of either sex, and some I wasn?t quite sure of, and usually dressed as women or sissies and the occasional animal. Once I was used to it, I enjoyed serving them as they enjoyed themselves and each other and they got to know me. I speculated, with amusement, that this is probably not what Sam imagined. I have settled down to make the least worst of my captivity and I do not dislike some of my duties but I dread the punishments and beatings dispensed by the Housekeeper. A week after I suffered being shackled to the wall, she took me down to the Dungeon again. This time she told me to lower my knickers and bend over a wooden horse. She strapped me down so I couldn?t move and lifted the skirt of my dress. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her walk over to the bench and pick up a paddle, weigh it in her hand and nod to herself. I knew what was coming and became distraught. I anticipated the first wack but it was more powerful than I dreaded. She got into a rhythm delivering blows to both cheeks. I did not count them but the beating seemed to go on forever but did finally stop. She pulled down my dress, unstrapped me, grunted and left the room leaving me to recover and make my way to my room. When I eventually got there, I inspected my backside and noticed, with some relief, that there were no open wounds, but I was red and blue all over. The Housekeeper was clearly an expert. I applied some soothing ointment, got undressed and ready for bed and laid down on top, face down. It was a long time before I fell asleep, not only because of the pain but because my mind was in a turmoil. On another of what had become regular visits to the Dungeon, the Housekeeper strapped me to the rack. I had never felt such intense pain throughout my body, but I did wonder if I ended up a little taller. I like serving and preparing meals, although Cook does most of the cooking. I am content to be a personal maid to the Mistress, especially doing her hair and makeup and helping her to dress. She does dress and bathe herself, so I am spared those less satisfying and what could be degrading tasks. Although I help her get ready for the day, she rarely leaves her apartment except when her friends are here. Mistress has not treated me as a slave, well I don?t get paid; I am not punished or on the receiving end of sadistic acts from her. I wear normal maid?s uniforms for everyday service, I am only required to wear the French maid costumes and my highest heels when guests are present. I do not have any clothes of my own, girls? or men?s. I have asked about the clothes that I had packed, or if I could buy new ones, but the Housekeeper says no. In private the Mistress talks to me as if I was a female companion and I do not have to be subservient. However, in front of the Housekeeper it is a different matter and I have to act and think in a servile manner. I suspect the Mistress?s interests in domination do not extend into BDSM as I had first thought. Her bluster is more to do with her business and public persona. But I do hanker on being free to make my own choices and to enjoy life to the full and I do not like the way I am treated by the Housekeeper. I am also worried that they may be continuing to feminise me by secreting hormones into my food and drink. I did take some tablets when I first woke up on the day of my revival, but I thought they were to help me recover from whatever they used to knock me out for the journey. I had been on the island for three months when Cook said to me, "The Mistress is having two personal guests for lunch tomorrow. The Housekeeper has asked that you prepare and serve a three-course lunch for three in the Mistress?s apartment. You are to prepare the table before the guests arrive at noon. You will then serve refreshments followed by lunch at one. They will be taking the ferry back to the mainland after lunch." "Okay Cook," I replied, "I?ll check what?s available and draw up a menu for approval". I wondered if I needed to prepare something special, but decided on a traditional lunch. We had a leg of lamb joint in the cold store and vegetables in the garden with a fresh delivery due this afternoon. The branches of the Bramley apple tree in the garden were sagging with fruit. "Cook, I would like to start with leek soup with freshly baked granary bread rolls, followed by roast lamb with traditional mint sauce and gravy accompanied by a medley of fresh seasonal local and garden vegetables. To finish off I could prepare a choice of apple crumble and custard or a selection of cheeses. A Cabernet Sauvignon to serve with the lamb? Would this be acceptable, Cook?" "Yes, they are good choices. I suggest you start preparations this afternoon so you have plenty of time to finish tomorrow morning," replied Cook. This is the first time I had been asked to choose and prepare lunch, it may be a small thing but I was quite excited. The following morning I dressed in my mauve French maid?s uniform and five inch heels, the same costume I wore serving lunch to the Mistress and Housekeeper on my first day. I prepared the table and just needed to finish off the courses as and when they were required. The Housekeeper came into the kitchen and announced "the Mistress?s guests have arrived and are on a tour of the house. The Mistress will ring you when they are ready for their aperitifs." She paused for effect and then with a smirk said, "Don?t forget your manners when you are asked to enter and to lower your head, girl." After about half an hour I heard the servants? bell and headed off to the apartment. I knocked on the door to the sitting room. "Enter," I heard in response. As I stepped into the room curtseyed and stood with my head lowered I heard a familiar voice shriek, "Oh Trixie, how wonderful you look!". I looked up and screamed with shock and a look of horror and anger briefly showed on my face. It was my wife, Sam, and the other guest was Cerys, my mother-in-law. Sam turned to her aunt and exclaimed, "I thought you had trained her to be respectful to her superiors!" "She has been," replied the Mistress, "I don?t know what came over her" and with a smile she whispered so only I could hear "actually I do!" Cerys added "she should be punished for this disrespectful and uncalled for outburst, but let?s have a drink first." "G and Ts, for me and Mummy," said Sam. "And I?ll have a medium dry sherry," the Mistress added. I was shaking as I took their drinks orders and could not look at them in the face. "After you have served the drinks you can bring in the first course," said the Mistress. While I was busy at the drinks cabinet, the Mistress said to Sam "How was your cruise dear? Did a handsome man sweep you off your feet?" "Oh, Auntie, it was delightful. It is as if I was born to a luxury lifestyle and the attentive service. I had many admirers, some of them married, but of course being a cruise many of them were old enough to be my grandfather let alone my father. Some of the more handsome younger ones certainly were on the prowl and probably had scraped together the fare. Fine as lovers but not to settle down with, unless I can protect poor Anthony?s inheritance. I brought back one fine specimen who is sharing my bed." I returned to the kitchen to collect the tureen with the first course. On re-entering the room Sam was still holding court. "Although it was for the money, I did derive pleasure from marrying and feminising Anthony. I have become aware that I like to dominate men. During the cruise I was often wondering if an admirer had the potential to be a submissive. Some certainly acted like it, but I suspected it was so they could get me into bed and enjoy my largesse." She stopped to take her soup as I left to fetch the serving trolley with the main course. With permission, I re-entered the dining room with the main course and overheard Cerys saying, "So that?s agreed then, I will sound out my friends to recommend a suitable suitor for you. One with the potential to become a devoted slave and if he is wealthy all the better! Trixie, you can serve the lamb." I continued serving their lunch, they seemed to enjoy the food but never said a word to me, but I was sure I was the reason why they were here and I had heard most of their conversation, quite intentionally it would appear. Before I came to the island, Sam had teased me that she might meet and bed a handsome, virile young man and I noted her true leanings were emerging. They talked a lot about the cruise and how Cerys was planning to move into my old house with her younger daughters to live with Sam and the improvements she was planning, which sounded ghastly. Cerys said out of the blue, "Tony?s cousins are still fighting for a share of the inheritance and questioning his tragic demise." She suddenly stopped as if she just realised I was in the room; that was clearly not part of the conversation I was supposed to overhear. To quickly change the subject Sam spoke up. "Auntie, how is Trixie?s training going? When would she be ready to return to us to be our maid? Of course, that is if we want her, I am not sure now given her outrageous and disrespectful behaviour earlier when I greeted her." The Mistress replied, "She has been acting as my personal maid and has been satisfactory. She has had experience in serving and looking after my personal guests. Why don?t you come back, say next month, and you then judge if we have progressed sufficiently for her to return to you?" Cerys declared, "She needs punishing for earlier. Sam, you were the victim, why don?t you take her down to the Dungeon? Your Auntie and I will have a chat while you are enjoying yourself. But don?t be too long otherwise the ferry will miss the tide." "What a good idea," said Sam, "I can try out that new machine we saw before lunch!". "Be careful dear," called out the Mistress. "Come with me Trixie," said Sam as she walked out of the room. I followed her down the stairs to the entrance hall and then down the narrow spiral staircase to the basement and into the Dungeon. She knew the way and I was not surprised when she produced the key. Without saying a word she dragged me over to the automatic spanking machine and strapped to the post. "Now, how did Auntie say it worked?" Sam said out loud to herself as she turned dials and pulled levers. The machine started whirling. She had set it to a medium setting at a slow random rate. I yelled with the first strike, it was my first time and I was not expecting it to be so painful. I gritted my teeth and tried not to show any further emotion or reaction to the following strikes, I did not want to give her any satisfaction. But she looked flushed, the same as when she watched me being caned by the Headmistress. Sam cleared a space and sat up on the workbench where the dungeon tools and aids were laid out. She looked down at me with a gleeful smile, but after a while she seemed to get bored and looked at her watch. She got down, strode across to the machine, took a selfie with me, adjusted the controls, pulled out a bolt and left the Dungeon with a wicked grin, locking the door behind her leaving me alone. The intensity of the strikes increased, I had never suffered so much pain and it wasn?t long before I was unconscious. * * * * * PART III FAMILY UNITED I woke up in my room lying on my front and groaned. Cook was sitting in my armchair beside my bed, then looked up and exclaimed quietly, "Oh, thank god". Cook sat up and laid a hand gently on my arm as if to restrain me. "Trixie, don?t move, you have been seriously injured and were very close to death." "What happened I whispered hoarsely?" I didn?t feel any pain, actually I couldn?t feel anything other than being very weak and fatigued. "Don?t speak," Cook said with kindness. "You have had a terrible beating. Before she left you, Sam turned up the dial to the max and pulled out the safety bolt. Without that bolt the machine did not stop automatically as it would normally do at the end of a programme." After letting that sink in, Cook continued, "She returned to the Mistress?s apartment, handed back the key and then she and her mother left on the ferry. The Mistress knew you had been punished so she did not summon you in the evening, to give you time to recover." "It was not until the morning when you did not turn up with her breakfast and to help her get ready for the day that she asked the Housekeeper to find out where you were. She was quite vexed, and at the same time upset that after your impeccable record that you had neglected your duties." "You were not in your room and I hadn?t seen you in the kitchen. The Mistress rang her sister assuming that they may have taken you back home having decided not to wait for your training to finish. Cerys said you weren?t with them and in the background she heard Sam call out in a gleeful voice that she had locked you in the Dungeon." "We rushed down and found you slumped in the machine looking very pale and with blood pooling on the flagstones. I checked for life signs and I could just detect very slight movement. I wanted to call the paramedics, but the Mistress said not to as she knew someone she could call discreetly, your welfare was important to us both. If it got out that someone was beaten to near death she would lose her business. The authorities would prosecute and her friends and clients rely on the protocols we have in place working. No one should be beaten without their permission and a safeword, her guests know this; they do not want their beloved slaves unduly injured. No one should interfere with the safety mechanisms or lock anyone in the Dungeon. Her niece violated these safety measures on three counts and the Mistress was furious with her. This all happened a week ago." I couldn?t believe what I had just heard and what had come over Sam. And then I grasped on how long I had been unconscious. "The Mistress called one of her friends, who is an Accident and Emergency doctor and a regular guest. She came straight away with her husband. She sedated you and treated your wounds, she had never seen anything so severe in her alternative lifestyle, only a few serious casualties in A&E have been worse. Her husband is a nurse, and is also her slave when off duty, or maybe it should be the other way round! He took time off and has been here all week. I took over today as you seemed to be out of danger. The doctor has also been to see you again, but she could not be away from her hospital duties too long with the time it takes to travel here and to cross from the mainland." "We will continue to keep you under sedation. Do not put any stress or touch your backside in case you disturb the dressing. We can talk if you are up to it, but do not get too excited," said Cook with tenderness. I tentatively spoke and gasped, "Thank you Cook." I didn?t have any difficulty and spoke again in a normal but tired voice. "I appreciate the difficult situation the Mistress is in and the good fortune that her friends have pulled me back from the brink. I remember being terrified and desperately screaming for help, but not much else after Sam left the Dungeon." "There is one more thing," said Cook, "the doctor also discovered older, but still recent, wounds consistent with beatings. Have you been punished by the Housekeeper?" "Yes," I replied, "but I have no idea what I had done wrong." She took me down to the Dungeon every few weeks and either beat me or tortured me using one of those medieval devices. I had resigned myself to the pain and horror. Cook held up a hand as if to stop me. "I hadn?t realised until this week who you were. When examining you the doctor discovered you were male, she released your testicles and penis while you were unconscious. She didn?t understand why you were able to tolerate it for so long, you must have been so frustrated and in constant pain. I had assumed you were what I saw, a teenage girl being trained as a maid. I did not know the circumstances and it was not my place to ask. I know now that you are not the young girl you appear to me and despite my knowledge and experience you had me fooled! I suggest you wear this for the time being, it may not be a good idea for anyone else to discover your secret just yet." Cook handed me what I now know to be a gaff, it was on the large size. I was surprised with what Cook had just told me and replied with a question, "You didn?t know who I was?" Cook replied, "Not an inkling. The Housekeeper told me you were taken on by the Mistress at the request of her sister. Usually maid training is undertaken at a special school on the mainland attended by males. I assume you were with us because you were a girl and owned by the family." "I am Anthony Martin, Tony, and I am your niece Sam?s, husband. I am naturally short and I have been feminized. But I do get male urges so I am so relieved the doctor released my tackle. Sam and her mother conspired to take control of my wealth and claim on my life insurance. They faked my death, feminised me and decided I was to be a captive maid." Cook looked at me with astonishment. "I had really no idea. I have never met you and I was not invited to the wedding. The two sisters have never been that close. Although we are not blood relatives I hope you can trust me, I am going to take you under my wing and treat you like a niece or should I say nephew. I felt I had a moral responsibility for you but now I feel we have a bond." I replied, "I would really appreciate your help to escape from this life. I have no one else to turn to and nothing to lose if you are not being sincere. I am sorry to imply I don?t trust you, I just need time; I once trusted my wife." Cook sighed and said, "I understand. I think it would be a good idea to tell you about myself. My family owns this island and much of the small harbour town and its hinterland on the mainland opposite. Being a remote part of Wales, the estate was not worth much compared to other parts of Britain, but rent from tenants and income from estate businesses provided us with a reasonable living. We all worked for the family estate." "I was a young casual crossdresser, but I kept it secret as I was too well known in the community, the family was held in high regard and times were different. A sister crossdresser recommended a private guest house in the next county where I could stay en femme and venture out in the evenings. I got to know the landlady, Gwen, and we developed feelings for each other and it wasn?t long before I was visiting for the romance as well as the crossdressing. She became my wife." "We had a conventional but a quiet wedding, and no I was not dressed as a bride, and moved into a large estate house on a cliff overlooking the town and the island with Cardigan Bay and the Irish Sea beyond. I continued with my estate work and Gwen moved her guest house business to our new home. I soon became aware that her guests, like I had been, were seeking a discreet establishment." "We had a son, Dylan, as he got older Gwen showed little inclination to be a mother and was not that close to him. When I was working he was looked after by a local woman from the estate." "Over time Gwen?s guest house catered mainly to dominant women and their companions. She was drawn into their lifestyle and, encouraged by her guests, she became more dominant in our relationship and I naturally took on the role of her submissive. I loved her and wanted to please her and of course it suited my desire to crossdress." "Ms Smythe came to stay as a lodger. We both fell under her influence and she became part of our life and she gradually took over. It became more and more difficult for me to work in the estate office and then one day my father realised something was wrong and suggested I take a sabbatical. As I was then no longer working I soon took over the cooking at home and for our guests. Ms Smythe started calling me Cook and it has stuck ever since." "My mother passed away and my broken-hearted father soon joined her. I inherited the estate and we took up residence here in the private apartment, the former home of my parents. Ms Smythe came with us and became the Head Housekeeper." "My condition worsened so I left the running of the estate to the agent who had been with the family for many years. However, he was past retirement age and he decided to resign rather than get used to the ways of a new owner. The Housekeeper, Ms Smythe, mentioned that she knew someone who would be an admirable agent and without any thought I agreed to her suggestion to appoint her. I also relied on the Housekeeper to look after the house and the arrangements to accommodate Gwen?s business." "Gwen came to be known as the Mistress by her guests, more in jest as the lady of the house than through subservience." "The castle, this isn?t a real castle but an 18th Century home built by a coal mine owner to impress, was converted into a private hotel and separate residence. The cellar was converted into the Dungeon." "As you have probably discovered by now, there are twelve guest rooms, each with a corresponding cell in a dungeon, with guest lounges and dining rooms. As well as our apartment, there are staff quarters and other accommodation such as your room. The island has only one quay for the ferry to the mainland, there are no other means to land on the island or cross from the mainland. The boatman is on the staff and is also the caretaker. Access is strictly controlled." Cook continued without pausing, "My condition gradually worsened. Then it became obvious to me, that I was gradually being feminised without my knowledge. As my appearance became more feminine I was less recognisable. The Housekeeper falsified an accident report saying that I had fallen off the cliff and swept away by the current. Needless to say my body was never found. She let people know that one of Gwen?s relatives had come to live here and help with the housekeeping and cooking. Despite the loss of my freedom and looking like a woman I was content. One day the Housekeeper informed me that I was to be the full time cook and to move into the staff quarters and only visit the Mistress when summoned. Eventually, when I was presumed dead, the estate was held in trust by my widow until Dylan comes of age. I receive all my instructions from the Housekeeper to this day." "The business flourished and the services offered became darker and more extreme. The Mistress and I drifted apart. I could no longer please her and I no longer loved her, though deep down I never let go. We were now effectively estranged, but I did carry on playing and enjoying the role of her slave when she entertained her own friends in the Dungeon." "When we found you collapsed in the Dungeon, the shock shook me up. My mind cleared and I realised something was wrong. When the doctor discovered your older wounds, I became suspicious of the Housekeeper and decided I should find a way to get you off the island." "I have often thought about escaping and I devised a plan some time ago, but I am content and I do not want to put Dylan and his inheritance at risk, although I am of no doubt there is a plot to take it from him." I had listened with interest and trepidation to Cook and then spoke after some silence. "What you have told me is astonishing and eye opening. Our stories have much in common and I better understand the role the Mistress played in my current misfortune and the loss of my wealth to her sister and niece. The two sisters came from the same mold. Is there anything we can do to put things right and bring all those involved to justice?" Cook replied, "Although mobile phones are not allowed on the island, I am quite sure the Housekeeper has one, there is a two-way radio to summon the boatman locked away in the Housekeeper?s office. However, I do have a way to let Dylan know when I want to see him. Although he is also estranged from his mother he has permission to come to the island to see me. At night I leave a light on, which Dylan can see from his clifftop house. He then arranges to come over, usually the next day. I will leave it on this evening." The following afternoon I was resting on my bed, still lying on my front, when I heard somebody enter my room and then a voice, "Are you awake, Tony? It is Cook." I turned my head and saw Cook standing there with a young man just behind me, I could see the family resemblance. "Tony, this is my son, Dylan." "Oh hello," I said, "I am so glad you could come. Please excuse me if I don?t get up and for my confusing appearance". "No worries," said Dylan, "it is nice to meet you. Dad has been telling me your story and his ideas on what we should do next. We have been waiting for the Housekeeper to go across to the mainland before coming up to see you. Mum doesn?t normally see me and if she knows I am here she will assume I am just with Dad. So we should not be disturbed and no one should guess the reason for my visit." Cook then explained, "We know your wife and mother-in-law are expected back to discuss your future with the Mistress. This should give us an opportunity to collect some evidence to bring them to justice, one way or another, and restore your life and the family wealth." "Please go on Cook. What have you in mind?" I asked. Dylan answered for this Dad. "I am going to leave you my mobile phone. Earlier, while with Dad, I did a factory reset and installed an app that will record video and audio when movement or noise is detected. I have removed the SIM and disabled anything else that might give the game away if the phone was discovered, but you will be able to make an emergency call. We expect you will be asked to serve them, as last time, and at some point be told of your future. On the day that they are expected, check that the phone is fully charged and, while you are preparing the table, position the phone in the room so it cannot be spotted. It would be ideal if the camera lens, the one on the rear, has a clear view of the room. Make sure that no light will be reflected off the lens. When the app is running the display will be off. Dad is going to make a stand out of dough to hold the camera in position." "Are you sure you don?t need your phone?" I asked Dylan rather dumbly. "Don?t worry about something like that! I have an old phone at home which I keep as a spare. I backup all my data and settings to my account and I can restore them to my old phone for the time being. Dad and I think it would be a good idea to take some pictures now of your injuries as evidence although there is a risk they may be discovered if the phone is found. No doubt you will still have your injuries in a month?s time, but they will continue to heal." I nodded and said, "I think it is worth the risk." I then had an idea. "Why don?t you take some strands of my hair for identification using DNA? It may not be necessary but you have my permission to track down my cousins and compare my DNA with theirs. You can tell them I have no intention of denying them a fair share of the family wealth, if we are able to recover it. You could also take a picture of the strands being taken as part of the evidence trail." "That is a good idea," said Cook, "we were planning to contact the police, so once we have the evidence they can move in and arrest the culprits. They may consider your feminisation and beating to be fantasy, but if we gave them evidence you were still alive then the insurance fraud case will be reactivated". Dylan then said, "On the day, when they are ready to leave or you think you have sufficient recorded evidence, return to the kitchen to let Dad know. I don?t know what will happen next, that will depend on how the police decide to proceed." "Wow, did you plan all this out while waiting until it was all clear to come to my room?" I exclaimed, they both nodded and grinned. "I will do my best on the day." Cook interjected, "We better leave you now, you need your rest and there's always the risk that the Mistress or the Housekeeper will wonder where we are". "Oh, I nearly forgot! One last thing, Dad, can you give me a signal the night before?" One day the following month when I was in the kitchen Cook said, "Trixie." He didn?t call me Tony, just in case. "Tomorrow, the Mistress has two personal guests for lunch in her apartment. The Housekeeper wants you to prepare and serve the meal and to be on your best behaviour. And you are to wear your normal maid?s uniform. I am almost certain this is what we are expecting, so be ready." "Yes Cook," I said with some nervousness, "I will check what we have and prepare a menu." Tomorrow came. I was able to set up the phone behind some books. Cook had made a brilliant stand using dough and dye. Just after noon I was summoned by the Mistress. I knocked at her door and on hearing ?come? entered the room and curtseyed. I saw Sam and Cerys and I actually smiled with relief and of course did not cry out this time. I think they misunderstood my smile! Sam said, "Oh what a shame Trixie is not wearing her sexy French maid uniform, I hadn?t realised she had a plain uniform, she looks so normal and not so exciting!" The Mistress then spoke, "Trixie, please offer and serve aperitifs to my guests. I will have my usual." I served them their drinks and continued with the course as and when requested by the Mistress. This time they certainly did not want me to overhear, they spoke to each other in Welsh! After I had finished serving them with coffee, the Mistress then said to me, "Trixie, my sister and niece have been discussing with me your future. You have completed your training and we must now decide if you are to return to your owner?s household or stay here with me and Cook. This is highly unusual but I would like to hear your opinion and you may ask one question of each of us. We will decide if we answer them or not, but do not think that you will have any part in deciding your future. You must remain respectful to your betters." Sam chipped in. "We may decide to sell you as a slave and be done with you!" I had to think fast as I did not know if we had sufficient evidence recorded, they could have been discussing knitting patterns for all I know. "Sam, you married me to take all my wealth for yourself and then you made a fraudulent insurance claim on my life insurance. Why do you want me back now as your maid?" I asked. Sam laughed. "It is true there is nothing more you can give me. I will enjoy humiliating you and gloating over your misfortune, but you will be under my control and I can be sure no one will ever find out the truth. Mummy has persuaded me not to kill you, but if you became a risk it is an option. If you behave and serve us well you can remain with me for the rest of your life. I will provide food, lodging and uniforms, but don?t forget we have evidence that shows your predilection for young girls and that you benefited from the life insurance pay out. And you will still have your twenty thousand pounds." I then turned to Cerys. "Thank you for discouraging Sam from not disposing of me for real. I must congratulate you, I now suspect that you also disposed of your husband for his inheritance and life insurance. You became a wealthy woman in your own right. You have guided your daughter to follow in your footsteps. You knew the solicitor who was complicit in getting me to sign the wrong paperwork and you knew the directors of the clinic that carried out my forced feminisation and left me in constant frustration. They even owed you a favour and you were able to arrange for my death to be falsified. No clinic would be willing to admit to a death while a patient came in for a vasectomy, a simple routine procedure. And then you arranged for me to come here for maid training. And with my wealth, why would a bride?s mother want a very small and quiet wedding for her daughter?" I could see Cerys was uncomfortable and I was surprised she did not interrupt. She did respond though. "You don?t know the half of it, Trixie!" Not so much a confession, but enough to arouse suspicion I thought. Finally I turned to Mistress. "Gwen," I said deliberately, "you are an enigma to me. You run what many would consider a disreputable and immoral business. But I see from the operation here that you provide a private personal service to a network of like-minded friends, who respect each other and the staff here. I feared providing personal services to please you and your guests would mean humiliation and pain for me. But the humiliation has been the wearing of embarrassing French maid costumes and the pain has been confined to playful hand spanking." I decided not to mention my suffering from the Housekeeper?s frequent unwanted and unwarranted sadistic acts. The Mistress briefly smiled and then said. "Trixie, that?s enough. Please let the boatman know that my guests will be ready to leave in an hour. You are dismissed." I rushed down to the kitchen to tell Cook they were leaving in an hour and then went to find the boatman. I returned to the kitchen and Cook said, "You can go clear the lunch things, I?ll come with you, it will be better if I recover the phone." We entered the apartment and I showed Cook where the phone was hidden, Cook took it and left. I finished clearing up and followed. My heart was pounding, my mind was swirling. Did we get the evidence we need? Would I be believed? What would be my future? About an hour later a furious Housekeeper burst into the kitchen and yelled, "What the hell have you done?" An unfamiliar woman pushed past her and announced, "Police! Please remain where you are!" She looked at Cook and then me and said, "please identify yourselves". Cook replied, "Arthur Jones." I replied, "Anthony Martin." She waved forward a PC and WPC standing behind her and said to us, "Please accompany these officers." She then turned to the Housekeeper, who was staring at me open mouthed, and said, "And you are?" She replied, "Smythe, I?m the Head Housekeeper." "Please take me to the owner; a Gwen Jones?" said the woman police officer. "Yes, of course. Please come this way," said the Housekeeper. We followed them out of the kitchen. The Housekeeper and the police officer made their way up the stairs while we remained in the hall. The Constable turned to us and with a smirk said, "Please take us to the guest lounge." His colleague looked crossed and turned to us and she mouthed, ?Sorry.? I assume she was embarrassed with his expression given the way we were dressed. ?Not enough diversity training,? I thought to myself. We made our way to the lounge in silence. As we entered we heard a cry "Dad!" It was Dylan; with him was a police officer wearing a Chief Inspector?s uniform. The two constables then left us and a man and a woman dressed head to toe in hooded overalls came in with a number of equipment cases. The Chief Inspector introduced himself. "I?m CI Evans of the Dyfed-Powys Police. My Inspector is interviewing Mrs Jones. Dylan told us that Mr Martin was alive, despite his reported death, and is being held here against his will. Mr Jones, from what Dylan has told me, I am treating you as a witness however you remain a suspect until we can eliminate you from our enquiries. But first I believe you have a recording that may assist us?" "Yes of course," said Cook handing the phone over. "We have not touched the phone since retrieving it from my wife?s apartment about an hour ago." "Thank you. We will need to analyse this as soon as possible. These officers are SOCO (Scene of Crime Officers), they will process both of you. Mr Martin, I would be grateful if you would allow them to photograph your wounds and your, er, modifications. You can then go and change if you like, otherwise, I would like you both to stay here for the time being." Turning to Dylan he said, "You are welcome to stay with them and bring them up to date." CI Evans turned and left the room. While SOCO got on with their jobs, Dylan told us what had happened since we met and hatched our plan. "When I got back home, I contacted a friend of mine who is a trainee with a firm of solicitors. He arranged for me to meet one of the partners and we discussed what we could do. She said leave it with her and she would be in contact. I gave her Tony?s strands of hair." The SOCO with the camera interrupted to ask me to remove my uniform, which she put into an evidence bag. I was glad I was wearing my plain uniform and didn?t need to wear a corset and stockings today. Then I was told to strip completely. Without thinking I did so, Dylan looked horrified when he saw my naked scarred body but then quickly looked away in embarrassment. When she was finished the SOCO handed me a similar overall to what they were wearing. "You may like to put this on until we are finished and then you can nip to your room and change." "I am fine, I only have maids? uniforms. I quite like to keep this on for a while," I replied. Dylan then continued. "The solicitor got back to me a week later and arranged a follow up meeting. When I arrived CI Evans was there. He explained that my evidence had enabled him to reopen the case; he and the insurance company had always had their suspicions about the claim. The solicitor had managed to contact your cousins and there was a familial DNA match. That was all the police needed to take action. Unless, of course, you are your brother!" he joked. "This morning, after I saw Dad?s signal last night, I went down to the quayside and watched out for the ferry. When it arrived I saw two well- dressed women being dropped off from a chauffeur-driven Bentley. I could see the family resemblance so I alerted CI Evans. The Police were waiting when the ferry returned this afternoon. I saw one of the passengers shouting at the boatman when she saw the police on the quayside. The boat stopped and turned and started back out to sea when there was an ear- piercing siren. A police launch moved in and blocked the harbour entrance and ordered the boatman to return to the quayside. The two women I saw earlier, who I now know to be my aunt and cousin, were handcuffed and taken away in the back of two police cars. The boatman also accompanied the police." Both Cook and I had large grins on hearing the news. Dylan continued, "CI Evans and I jumped onto the police launch, a number of officers and the SOCO team were already on board, and we headed for the island. They had to use bolt-cutters to open the gate on the jetty. The Housekeeper heard the gate alarm and came rushing out and when she saw the police she looked horrified. You know the rest." I left Cook and Dylan and went up to my room to change into one of my plain maid?s dresses, but without the apron and beribboned cap; the overall I was wearing was becoming uncomfortable. I later heard from Cook that the Mistress was not arrested but was cautioned by the police before they left. She was told to attend for an interview the following day with her solicitor. We could not contact the boatman, so Dylan stayed and Cook and I prepared a celebratory dinner. Unexpectedly, the Mistress asked if she could join us. It had been a very long time since the family had eaten together and the first time she shared a meal with her personal maid. The dinner conversation was, of course, about the day?s events. The Mistress didn?t say much but listened intensely. Then she spoke. "I have been listening to what you all have been saying and it seems to me that we do not appear to have been fully aware or have understood what has been truly happening over the last few years. I want all three of you to listen to what I have to say. Arthur, although we have drifted apart, I have to tell you that I love you dearly for what you are and I hope you don?t mind me telling you that in front our son and Tony. Dylan, I have been a distant and poor mother to you. I love you as a son and I want to become closer to you. Tony, I now know who you are and under different circumstances I would have got to know you as my niece?s husband and not as my maid." "Now please bear with me while I tell you my story," continued the Mistress, "you know that among our regular guest house clients, who later became my friends, were a small group of ladies and their husbands who enjoyed role play as dommes and slaves. I got to know them well and was drawn into their group. I persuaded Arthur to join me." "My life took a wrong turn when Ms Smythe lodged with us. She joined our little group, but we soon realized that she was a sadist who didn?t play by the rules and she was asked to no longer socialise with us. She said it suited her as she wasn?t enjoying our harmless play and she preferred her own group who were into more extreme play, or real BDSM as she called it. "One day Cerys came to visit me and she and Ms Smythe hit it off when they discovered they had similar interests. Ms Smythe invited Cerys to join her BDSM group. Who would have thought that two sisters in their later lives would be members of separate domme and slave groups; one of harmless role play and the other much darker!" "Ms Smythe devoted a lot of time with me and I gradually fell under her spell. I spent less and less time with Arthur and more time with Ms Smythe. When Arthur inherited the estate and we moved here, she came with us to be the housekeeper. I thought it was my decision but I now realise she planted the idea and manoeuvred to make it reality. She gradually took on more and more duties until she was running the estate and the guest house business. She came to me and told me that Arthur had stepped down and just wanted to be the cook. I now realise she had effectively taken over our lives and the estate and she had free range to do as she wished." "She set up the Dungeon in the old basement as a place for her BDSM group to meet here regularly. She took over or set up various businesses on the estate to provide services to her community. One of those businesses was the school for maids. I do not remember much, I was left alone to spend my time more or less in the apartment, but my special friends were able to continue to come and stay." "Earlier this year, the Housekeeper came to see me. She explained that my sister had asked if Sam?s new maid could attend the school?s summer school for training. She was a rebellious young girl who didn?t want to be a maid and had been caught drinking and smoking and leading girls at her school astray. They were worried about her influence on Cerys?s younger daughters. But the Housekeeper thought she needed special attention and decided that the girl should come to the island where she could be properly supervised at all times and disciplined." "When you first arrived, I believed, as indeed did Arthur, that you were as the Housekeeper told us and you needed a period of strict discipline and seclusion to correct your ways. It was suggested that I severely warn you so as to frighten you into submission. I was pleasantly surprised, as you spent more time as my personal maid, that you turned out to be a different girl." "Today, with sudden realisation of the depth of manipulation, sadism and greed shown by the Housekeeper, and my sister and niece, I have had my eyes opened and I hope I have come to my senses. I want to rejoin my real family, and I mean all three of you." The role played by the Housekeeper differed in some detail between Cook?s and Mistress?s recollections and indeed my own perception. But it was now clear that she was one in charge and the Mistress, and Cook, were under her influence. I wondered if it was the Housekeeper who was looking after the Mistress?s sexual needs and not Cook as I thought. After some silence, Arthur spoke up, "I for one welcome you back and I believe this calls for a celebration. Anyone for a drink?" "As I am no longer a young girl, could I have a single malt whisky please?" I asked with a grin. Over our drinks we discussed our different experiences of what had been happening to us. "It is almost as if there were two parallel worlds on this island, Gwen?s personal world and Ms Smythe?s darker world," I said. "Mistress, as the titular owner you lived a life of a recluse with Ms Smythe as your employee. You and your friends have regular get togethers with domme and sub roleplay. But in fact Ms Smythe was running the place, to host her own BDSM group and associated businesses for her own gratification and wealth, probably with the aim to take ownership of the whole estate." "I think you got it spot on Tony," exclaimed Cook. I have been catering for both worlds, as if it were, and I can now see there was very little interaction with just Ms Smythe liaising with me or Gwen as and when required. Even when Cerys and Sam visited the island to see Ms Smythe or to meet with their BDSM group, I wondered why they rarely visited Gwen." Dylan chipped in "Mum, is that why when I occasionally came to visit Dad, I never saw you? Miss Smythe kept my visits from you?" Gwen tearfully replied, "I don?t know, but it would explain why. I did miss you." Turning to Cook she continued, "And I missed you to Arthur." "I realised the guest accommodation and the Dungeon were in regular use a lot more than by my friends, Ms Smythe usually brushed off any comments I made and I just seemed to accept it," said Gwen. "The only time I saw Arthur was in the Dungeon when my friends were here." "I am now wondering what role Ms Smythe played in my misfortune. No doubt the truth will emerge during the police investigation," I said more to myself than the other three. We all just looked at each other as if we had just experienced a revelation. We carried on chatting over drinks, but moved on to other topics. The Mistress was particularly interested in Dylan?s life. Over the next few months, the police investigation uncovered overwhelming evidence of the conspiracy to cheat me of my wealth and the fraudulent claim, as well as my forced feminisation and captivity. Evidence was found at the clinic and the law practice, not only of the crimes in my case, but also against other unfortunate souls. The police were delighted in the number of unsolved crimes that were cleared up and about some they didn't know about. The lunch conversation I recorded was mainly arguments about my future. Sam, with her mother?s support, wanted me to return and be their maid, but Gwen thought I would be better off staying with her. At that time Gwen had not been aware of who I was and my history, as far as she knew I was just a young girl taken on as favour to her sister to be trained as a personal maid as arranged by the Housekeeper. In arguing and justifying their entitlement Sam and Cerys more or less came out with everything that had happened. Their responses to my questions and statements in English collaborated the conversation in Welsh. It emerged that the conspiracy was initiated by Cerys. Apparently her husband had committed suicide and she covered it up by restaging his death so she could make a fraudulent claim on his insurance. She knew her daughter was not going to find a rich and loving husband and identified me as a suitable suitor, as I was very rich, and, as I was so short, unlikely to attract anyone other than a fortune hunter. Sam, agreed to sign a pre-nup agreement to allay my concerns. Sam was driven by greed and desire. Once her mother had come up with the marriage plan she took it on board with enthusiasm. While Cerys drove the plan forward, ensuring that they had the right paperwork, it was Sam who enthusiastically embraced my feminisation and humiliation. On the invitation of her mother she had recently joined the Housekeeper?s BDSM group and the plan to feminise and control me came to fruition with the encouragement of the Housekeeper and the help of members of the group, including Miss Small and Miss Hancock, and the Housekeeper?s associates from the clinic and the solicitor. Cerys was enthusiastic as it fitted nicely with the overall plan. Our suspicions were confirmed that it was Ms Smythe, the Housekeeper, who was behind Cook?s and my feminisation and the darker side of Mistress?s business. Ms Smythe was not her real name, it was Iwan Jones, no relation to Cook, he had been living as a woman since his early twenties. He had a dominant nature and a dark side. He manipulated Gwen and Cook, called himself Head Housekeeper and took over the running of the estate and its businesses. He wormed his way into becoming one of the partners at the clinic, who were estate tenants, and changed the direction of the business to fit in with his vision. As I could recognise some of the members of Ms Smythe?s BDSM group, it was decided that until my final future had been decided that I would not serve the group when they met in the Dungeon, which explained why my duties did not turn out as expected. During one of his visits Dylan had brought across some clothes for me to wear. Dylan said he had to get his girlfriend to buy them, as he had no idea and was a little embarrassed despite his Dad being a crossdresser. She bought clothes in styles she wore herself. Given my size and appearance they were still girl?s clothes, but plain tops, trousers and flat shoes. I no longer used makeup and I wore my now long hair in a ponytail. The trial was coming up and I arranged to meet Cook in the guest lounge. "Hello," said Cook as he entered the lounge. "I know we see each other all the time but I thought we should sit down and focus on discussing our futures. But first how are you, really?" I thought for a while before replying. "I am surprisingly well considering the traumatic year I have been through. The biggest relief has been having my manhood liberated. I no longer have the frustration usually associated with blue balls. I am looking forward to when the new partners in the clinic are settled in so I can discuss with them how I can return to some form of normality. What about you?" Cook smiled with pleasure and said. "Now Ms Smythe is in custody, Gwen is no longer under her influence and has continued to become her old self. We have renewed our relationship, I had many misunderstandings of her true situation. Of course it is not a vanilla relationship, she is still my Mistress and I am still her crossdressing sub but we care for each other. I have moved back into the private apartment." "Oh I am pleased. As I got to know her and be her personal maid, I began to suspect she was not the person I had been led to believe." "We have both come to realise that she was led astray and was also a victim to some degree. Did you know the police have dropped the investigation into her? They found no evidence of her involvement in your kidnapping or the fraud. And they had insufficient evidence of any criminal intent during your stay here or anything illegal about her side of the business in general. There will be no charges, however, I have heard that the Health and Safety Executive are considering prosecuting for having unsafe machinery in the workplace, the spanking machine. It was one Ms Smythe?s so called improvements and Gwen has told the police she doesn?t want it back when it is no longer needed for evidence." "So, Cook, would you like me to call you Arthur from now on?" I said. "You can carry on calling me Cook. The Mistress would prefer Gwen or better still Auntie," replied Cook. "I will carry on calling you Cook and I will now call the Mistress, Auntie, I would like that. Can I ask you both if I could remain living here instead of returning to my house? I cannot really call my place home anymore and it is in England. I have offered it to my cousins provided Sam?s sisters can carry on living there until they finish their education." "We would be delighted to have you here. We were thinking of converting some of the guest rooms into an apartment and inviting you to stay!" exclaimed Cook. "You are after all family, being married to our now discredited niece. We intend to continue with Gwen?s business, as a private club by invitation only. We will be appointing regular staff from the local community and how they present themselves will be up to each individual." The criminal trials finally got underway. Sam and Cerys brought up their evidence of my apparent predilection for young girls and my gain from the insurance frauds. It just made it worse for them, the jury saw right through their ruse. They both went to prison with consecutive terms for a range of offences. They had to pay back the insurance money and I regained control of all my assets. Cerys had to sell her house, which she was renting out, to pay court and legal costs. They went to prison with just the clothes on their back. Sam being young and on large size had a miserable time at the expense of other inmates. She may have been into sadism, but she didn?t enjoy being on the other side. Ivan Jones, alias Ms Smythe the Housekeeper, was also found guilty and sentenced to prison, but has outstanding cases under investigation relating to other activities. When he was finally released from prison, he reverted to Ms Smythe and resurrected the BDSM group along with Cerys. The group became even darker in its practices and Ms Smythe later died during one particularly over zealous session. The cases against the headmistress and the form mistress did not go to court due to insufficient evidence, however, both were both dismissed for knowingly admitting an adult male to their school. They had used the school to further their own and Ms Smythe?s nebulous activities by recruiting and training girls to satisfy their client?s needs. I was not the only feminised male admitted to the school. They rejoined the restored BDSM group. The partners and senior staff at the clinic were also found guilty for offences relating to my feminisation and are awaiting trial for similar offences for other victims. Needless to say the professional staff have been struck off. They have had to hand back the lease and premises to the estate. The business was now worthless. We have rebooted the clinic to provide health services to estate workers and tenants. The solicitor who witnessed the paperwork was given a suspended sentence for fraud and struck off for professional misconduct. It was not possible to prove beyond reasonable doubt that he knew the extent of the crimes being committed and if he knew he had witnessed Tony?s signature on the wrong paperwork. As he was under Ms Smythe?s patronage, I am quite sure he did. A claim was made against him for damages. His professional indemnity insurance company disallowed the claim, and the solicitor had to dispose of his assets to settle. He is now working as a delivery driver. And of course, I divorced Sam. There was no divorce settlement which left her with nothing. Sam was unrepentant as she believed that living a luxurious lifestyle was her right and it had been taken away from her. When she had served her sentence, she found it difficult to settle down. The nature of her offences were a barrier to finding work and her dominant and wicked character meant she never had any long lasting friends. She fell out with her mother, who was working as a cleaner, and ended up living in a grotty bedsit surviving on a small pension from me: her victim; betrayed former husband; and, one time Auntie. * * * * * EPILOGUE Tony sold all his assets and set up an investment account to provide a comfortable living and a charitable trust fund, to support victims similar to himself. He continued to live on the island with Cook and Auntie Gwen. Tony would have liked to have all his feminisation reversed and be his old self, but he had to face up to the reality that he would always look beautiful and feminine. It wasn?t so bad. When he was attending the girl?s school he was accepted for who he appeared to be, where before he was shunned or ridiculed due to his height. Tony was a man who looked like a woman; but was back to be a functioning man. The procedure on his prostate didn?t take place although records showed that the clinic was paid for the work. He came to like presenting as a woman, it was not a compulsion but it was a comfort to be accepted by society. And of course, while Tony was short and slender for a man, he was not for a woman, especially in heels. He has yet to get around to reverse the feminine changes to his body and to fully restore his mutilated penis. He decided to live a double life. Formally he kept his name and dressed in unisex clothing and lived as a recluse in his own apartment on the island, spending his time managing his charity and being with close friends. Publicly he presented as a woman and went by Antonia Martin, Toni, to promote his charity. His sister-in-law Megan, Cerys's youngest daughter, came to work for him as a secretary when she finished her education. As Antonia, he hosted charity dinners and events building on talents that emerged during his domestic science classes and maid training. He loved using his hairdressing and cosmetic skills to present as an elegant hostess at charity events. If he had been a foot taller he would have been mistaken as a supermodel. He was never escorted but he had many admirers, however as he enjoyed dancing, he would accept invitations from dance partners. He was open about his gender but most people did not believe he wasn?t a woman. Sam had followed Antonia on social media ranting to anyone who would listen, and some who wouldn't, that the sissy bitch had stolen her wealth and her rightful place in the County?s social elite. One day Tony hoped he would meet a woman that would truly love him for what he was or could become. That day came. And he made up his mind to have his penis fully restored.