XP09

Geoff wondered if he would go to the police, as the chauffeur drove him home. Poor Chloe! He would give up this idea of writing. He would give up the thrill of cross dressing too. Mrs Prentice scared him now. She had kept him prisoner for a whole week, dressed as Tania Hyde all day long and forced to write and rewrite his manuscript until it was perfectly punctuated and had a one hundred and twenty per cent consistent plot. His eyes were still sore from staring at the plot-line spreadsheet. His arse still burned from the daily beatings. Having an occasional session with a "mistress" and living out the slutgirl fantasy for a few hours was one thing; but Mrs Prentice was completely insane. Her husband wasn't much better, although he hadn't taken any notice of Tania all week, not since the dinner party where he had so humiliatingly buggered her to orgasm.

It would be nice to get back to work; nice to see his mates down the pub. Geoff was already looking forward to getting out of this tight skirt and tights and being able to lace up some comfortable shoes: men's shoes. No, he didn't want to end up like poor, pathetic Betty. Nor did he relish spending any more time in Mrs Prentice's cells at night. Even the chance of getting a crack at the lovely Zoë wasn't going to be enough to draw him back to Mrs Prentice's office. The car pulled up outside his house.

He fumbled in his handbag for his key and unlocked the door, thinking 'Shall I put the kettle on before I get changed?' He decided that the tea could wait. 'Let's kill Tania off for good.' The tightness of his skirt meant that he couldn't, as he wanted to, take the stairs two at a time.

'What the fuck!' he said out loud as he looked in his wardrobe. Then he opened the drawer where he kept his socks and spare change.

The money was still there but the socks were gone; all gone. No pants too. In their place frilly knickers and lacy bras. The wardrobe was full of women's clothes too. All his man apparel had been spirited away. Not so much as a tie had escaped the attention of the burglars.

'Oh shit!' He sat on his bed and wondered what to do.

Was he brave enough to go up to the shops dressed as Tania? Wouldn't it look funny for a woman to be shopping for men's clothing? He wouldn't be able use the fitting rooms; that much was certain. It would be a hit and miss affair, getting things in the right sizes. He wouldn't even be able to try the shoes on. He decided a cup of tea would help him think.

The skirt kept his knees pressed together primly as he sat and sipped the hot drink. The burglar had even been thoughtful enough to supply fresh milk. 'Shit,' he thought again, 'I won't even be able to go to work. Not dressed like this.'

Geoff slipped off the little bolero jacket and let it fall to the floor. The satin blouse felt very feminine against his recently shaved chest and reminded Tania that her nipples were erect under her bra. 'I'll just nip upstairs and see if there's anything more comfortable I can wear.'

Tania's hips swung Geoff up the stairs on her three-inch heels.

He laid the first dress on the bed. It was a flimsy pleated crepe empire-line thing. Too formal. The next one was formal too -- a pink satin cocktail dress -- but, Geoff had to admit, they were both quite gorgeous. The thought of putting them on was beginning to make him aroused and he knew, from previous experience of dressing up in secret, that his panties would be slimy with his pre-emission fluids. He riffled through the rest of the dresses in the wardrobe. All very girlie. The nearest thing to sensible daywear was what he was already wearing: a tight grey pencil skirt and cream satin blouse. He looked at the dress on the bed again. At least it had a full skirt that wouldn't restrict his steps like this one. 'And it IS utterly gorgeous,' he thought.

He reached behind him, undid the button of his skirt and unzipped it, letting it fall to the floor around his ankles. He still hadn't quite mastered how to undo blouse buttons that were the wrong way round. He looked at himself in the mirror. Matching bra and panties in cream lace. Ivory tights. Black court shoes with an ankle strap that just hinted subslut. 'I'll be cold without the tights,' he thought. 'This wig makes my face look a bit fat. I must get a new one.'

Tania took over completely as Geoff struggled to zip up the silky bodice. The skirt was layered in ruffles and bias-cut to reveal just a glimpse of thigh as he twirled for the mirror. 'This colour really suits me,' thought Tania.

Tania went downstairs again and remembered the time that Mr Prentice had taken her virginity: just last week. Why had he ignored her? She wouldn't have resisted if he'd done it again. Mrs Prentice would have seen to that. Her knickers were wet at the front. She poured another cup of tea.

There was a note on the kitchen table. Tania unfolded it and read.

Tania,

We expect at least one 90,000-word novel per month from our authors. You know how high our standards are and what will happen to you if you are slack or late. To help you complete your next few assignments, we have arranged for your groceries to be delivered. The cost will be deducted from your next royalty cheque. My husband or I will call round to check on progress from time to time. Make sure that your makeup is perfect because, if we call, you will be punished for facial and sartorial imperfections as well as literary ones.

I suggest your next opus is based on your week under my guidance. Work hard, girl.

I remain

A. Prentice (Mrs)

The letter was typed on Crewel Knit Publishing headed notepaper. Today's date. Had they been here so recently? Geoff stood up and shook his head, the long hair of his wig flying out as he did so. 'I'll go shopping tomorrow,' he thought. 'I can phone in to work and say I'm still down with the flu.' He didn't know what excuse Mrs Prentice had given them to explain his absence last week. He would just have to brazen it out and stick to the flu story.

Tania's handbag was still on the hall table where she had left it. Geoff minced out to get it. When he opened it, all Geoff's credit and debit cards were gone. All the money he had was the change in the drawer upstairs: about enough for a train fare into town.

Geoff turned on the computer, crouching femininely, knees together to put the plug in the wall socket. It was something that you just do: if you're wearing a frock, you keep your knees together. Anything else would seem so wrong. He smoothed the full skirt under his thighs as he sat down at the desk and slid back onto the chair, knees still together. 'God, I feel horny,' he thought as he felt his erection move inside his lacy panties. 'God, I feel horny like this. And so very pretty too.'

He brought up the email client and started to type.

Dear Mrs Prentice.

I notice, on returning that I seem to have lost my credit cards and some other personal effects, while staying with you. I was wondering if, maybe, I have left the cards at your house. If so, might I ask that you return them since I will need to buy clothes in order to go to work. If not, perhaps an advance on royalties would be possible.

Thanking you in anticipation.

Geoffrey Carswell

He wanted to resign completely; tear up the contract with Crewel Knit. But he couldn't afford to offend her at this stage; he needed money.

The answer came back almost instantly by internet standards.

Tania,

You are an insolent baggage. You don't have time for any job but writing for me. If you look in your outbox, you will see that you resigned from your job last week. Have you forgotten so quickly?

I remain,

A. Prentice (Mrs)

Geoff clicked on the Sent Messages folder. His resignation letter was indeed there. And it was written in such a way that, even if he did retract it, he was unlikely to have the retraction accepted enthusiastically. 'And you can stuff your crap job back up your fat arse where it came from, you ugly old cunt.' Not really the best way to end a letter to your feminist, fortysomething boss.

'I'm stuffed, utterly stuffed,' thought Geoff.

The 'burglars' had left food in the fridge and -- whether as an oversight or not Geoff didn't know -- left the wine in the cellar. A glass of claret steadied him a little. He still felt maddeningly horny. Every time the dress brushed against his stockinged thighs or swirled enough to create a breeze around them he got the urge to touch his sex.

Tania rubbed her finger very very lightly over her "clitoris" as she waited for Geoff's dinner to cook. She imagined how angry her husband would be if it wasn't ready when he came in. He would surely spank her soundly for it across his knee; perhaps even the cane. Then he would... The feeling was building and building. Her finger moved all over the front of her dress now pressing between her legs and returning slowly up to that differently sensitive clit. 'Then he'll fuck me,' she thought. 'God I need to come.' She imagined her husband freeing a massive erection from his trousers as he held her down on the bed. She looked up into his angry eyes. He looked like Mr Prentice.

The thought was enough. Tania felt Geoff's warm emission release and spread under her knickers and tights. 'God! My dress will be ruined.'

She just had time to shower before dinner would be ready. There was a long robe hanging behind the bathroom door: thick shocking pink silk with feather detail round the neck and bodice. Tania pulled it on and tied the belt. All she needed now was the matching pink high-heeled slippers from the bedroom and her wig of course.

Dinner was made less dull by the claret and the television: a film about gangsters with an incredibly complex plot. The feel of the luxurious silk against Tania's skin kept making little Geoff spring up and even try to poke out of the robe but Tania wanted to be a good girl tonight. There was a nightdress neatly folded on her pillow. It too was quite beautiful: full length, cotton with puff sleeves trimmed with lace and tiny embroidered flowers across the chest. Tania slipped it over her head and curled up in bed, a happy girl.

*****

Bright Phoebus roused Tania from a happy dream of girlhood in the countryside. She stretched and relished the feel of the expensive nightdress that separated her from the sheets and duvet. She would have to shower again because her legs needed to be shaved. Little Geoff begged to be touched during the shower but she ignored him.

Tania sat at her dressing table to apply her makeup as carefully as she knew how, choosing a pale rose lipstick and matching eye shadow. Just a hint of blusher and she looked gorgeous enough to pull the wig on. 'I must get my ears pierced,' she thought, 'then I can wear a shorter hairstyle.' Makeup was a nuisance to do but always worth the effort in terms of how sexy and desirable it made you feel. And, of course, here was the threat of Mr Prentice turning up unannounced.

She decided to make a more thorough search of the wardrobe and dresser. The underwear was fantastic; incredibly sexy matching sets in silk and lace. She decided on a cornflower blue set, the control briefs of which would keep Geoff tightly under control for the day -- she hoped. Then sheer blue holdups -- easier to go to the loo in than tights. The range of dresses was wider than she had realized too. She selected a figure hugging stretch satin dress in blue, thinking that it matched her underwear and then thinking -- rather sadly -- that no one would see her in it. . 'I really must get my ears pierced.'

Then, as if to say 'How wrong can you be?' the doorbell rang.

Tania slipped on her courts and glided downstairs. 'Can I do this?' she thought as she hoped it wasn't anyone she knew. God, that would be embarrassing. It was most likely the postman. He wouldn't twig her.

'Groceries, Luv.'

The man was holding a big box and looked as surly as he sounded.

Tania said 'Bring them in please,' in her best girlvoice. She wiggled and minced down the hall in front of him, showing him where to put the box down in the kitchen. He was about Tania's age and well-muscled. Tania could feel his eyes undressing her. She was relieved when he was gone.

For the first few days, Tania -- fearful of punishment -- was rigorous about her adherence to Mrs Prentice's instructions. Every day she would get up, shower and shave all over. Then it was half an hour at the dressing table, making her face look beautiful, before dressing carefully to the same glamorous end. She started a short story about her weekend with the Prentices, but it just wouldn't go anywhere. Tania thought that she was too close to the events. She tried again in the first person but soon abandoned that too. 'If I do something different first, the block might lift,' she thought. 'Perhaps a story about a religious sect where sex and servility are the idols. Maxine, confident ambitious career girl. Sinister hooded monks recruit and bring Maxine down until she submits at last to the Abbott. Yes, that'll run.'

Tania worked incessantly at the story for over a week. The sex scenes had little Geoff springing up and leaking inside her knickers as she wrote them. She tried to ignore him but every day had to submit to his demands and touch herself as he ravished her, often pushing his fingers into her arse as he came all over her stomach, before ordering her to put his semen in her mouth. Despite these daily interruptuses, the story was progressing well.

There is a certain obsessiveness about writers when they are in spate. Everything else but the story and the characters gets pushed aside. They forget to eat. They drink or smoke in lieu of proper nourishment. They pace up and down, letting the story blossom in imagination before rushing back to the keyboard so that the scene is captured on disk before being forgotten. The telephone is the loathed enemy when it rings. The doorbell too is an impertinent invention. Tania let herself go.

When the reluctant auteur answered her front door, she was unshaven and unmade up. Her wig was askew and one holdup stocking had wrinkled down to her knee. There was a damp patch on the front of her skirt.

Mrs Prentice looked Tania up and then down. Her eyes said it all. She pushed Tania aside and marched in to the living room. 'You filthy slut. Have you even washed?'

Tania cowered, conscious now of the two-day stubble of her chin. 'Not today, Mistress. I'll go and do it n—'

The slap silenced her.

'Fetch me the crop, slattern.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Tania fled upstairs to the bedroom and retrieved the rising crop from the cupboard full of the bondage paraphernalia that had arrived with her new wardrobe. Returning to the living room she held out the cruel instrument submissively to her mistress, praying silently that she would be merciful.

'Bend over that chair.'

Tania did so. Mrs Prentice unzipped the skirt and let it fall to the ground around Tania's ankles.

'Count the strokes, slut.'

Swish.

Tania screamed in agony but, recovering her voice, managed a weak 'One. Thank you, Mistress.'

Swish.

'Ah! Two. Thank you, Mistress.'

Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish. Swish.

'Nineteen. Thank you, aah, Mistress. Please. Please no more.'

Tania's panted pleas were desperate now. Her arse was aflame. Geoff had come in her knickers. She could feel his semen trickling down her thighs.

Swish.

'Twenty. Tha... Thank you, M... Mistress.'

*****

Tania tried to write, constantly in fear of the arrival and wrath of Mrs Prentice. The grocery man came twice a week, the same man always. Tania was always perfectly made up and dressed. The food was varied and healthy. She started offering him cups of tea when he came. There were two reasons for this. First, she felt more confident in her deception now; he really thought she was a girl. Second, she was getting lonely; trapped in the house not just because of her woman's weeds but for fear of being caught disobeying Mrs Prentice's express instructions.

It was inevitable really: that he would made a pass at her. She let him kiss her. It felt good to be loved. She wasn't going to let him go any further than a kiss. But he was strong; insistent. His hands felt her padded breasts as he unzipped the dress and undid her bra. He didn't seem to be put out by Tania's unimpressively small breasts. Tania was ready to submit completely to his passion as he slipped the dress off her shoulders and over her hips. When he discovered Geoff, his whole body said how horrified he was. Tania expected to be beaten up, but he just left, cursing her. The next week the delivery boy was younger. The way he stared at her made her sure that he knew her secret. She took the groceries from him at the door, knowing that if she invited him in she would regret it.

To Tania's surprise and relief, Mrs Prentice didn't visit often. But she did send plenty of menacing emails. Tania finished three new novels in as many months and only got two really sound thrashings from her cruel mistress in that whole time. Her daily routine seemed normal. She lived each day as a girl. Only little Geoff reminded her of the past.

Mrs Prentice arranged to have a woman call at the house to pierce Tania's ears. Electrolysis sessions followed. Shaving every day was such a pain.

The months dragged on. The infrequency of Mrs Prentice's visits and the utter boredom of staying indoors all the time made Tania brave, brave enough by now to go out of the house. With no money, she could only window shop. Still, it was fun riffling through all the dresses in Bon Marché or Debenhams. If she saw anything she really liked she would ask Mistress to buy it for her out of her royalties.

It still took courage, especially because if Tania found anything really gorgeous on the rack or spotted some really sexy lingerie, Geoff would try to get stiff and threaten her with exposure.

When a new boutique opened in the high street, Tania couldn't resist it. She had only just started looking through the tops when a pushy blue rinse walked up behind her.

'Can I help you, Modom?'

'No, thank you. I'm just looking.'

Tania held up a blue silk blouse

'Oh, that would suit you, Modom. Would you like to try it on?'

'No, thank you. I'm only looking today.'

'It wouldn't hurt to try it on. It's so you, Modom. No obligation.'

Tania blushed as she pushed the blouses aside to replace the hanger she was holding. The woman shook her head and went down the shop to persecute another browser as Tania fled out into the hazy sunshine.

She hadn't noticed it until now. Her tits -- those old manboobs -- they were bigger. Her B cup was generously stretched. Her nipples seemed bigger and more sensitive too. She pinched them, to relish the sensation, and breathed in as they grew turgid under her fingers.

'I'm changing,' Tania thought.

Then Geoff panicked. 'They've been putting something in my food.'

The thought appalled him. Crossdressing was one thing; but this! He would have to escape from Mrs Prentice's power somehow.

Panic induced creative thought at last. Geoff knew what to do now. He advertised his book collection as for sale. With the cash he would buy proper men's clothing and reassert himself; get a job; stop this process of enforced feminization once and for all. They couldn't do this to him. Fantasy was one thing, but this!

The first two book buyers were dealers and only took away their specialities: a few classic 1950s SciFi mags and, in the case of the woman, a set of books on jazz and jazz musicians. Geoff needed at least one more sale. He looked forward to the doorbell ringing now.

'Good morning. Miss Tania Hyde?' There were two men at the door, looking for all the world like a pair of Jehovah's Witnesses or Mormons. But they knew her name.