Finding Rhiannon Pt. 07

FINDING RHIANNON

Chapter 7 -- A Chorus of Sirens

Wordlessly, I stared at my wife. I'd never seen her dressed like this, act like this, even talk like this.

I had no idea she owned leather clothing of any sort, let alone the outrageous corset and boots she was currently sporting. And while she wasn't a prude, or at all embarrassed about her body, she would never walk around at home with her breasts on display, even though we lived alone.

The only times I saw her naked were when she was changing or getting in or out of the shower -- and then only briefly. In bed, she slept in a nightdress. When we were having sex, she would rarely disrobe entirely -- and if she did, she would generally prefer us to stay under the sheets.

But what really shocked me -- aside of course from the fact of finding her in Martin's bedroom -- was her manner.

She had always been fairly assertive, and in our relatively short time together I had often felt the lash of her acerbic tongue. So the idea of her dressing and acting as some sort of dominatrix made a kind of sense, twisted though it might be.

The sensuality though was something different. The flush in her features and the heavy breathing that suggested not just exertion, but arousal. The frankly lascivious inspection she was giving me as she drank in my newly acquired cleavage. The explicit invitation to "play" with her. This was not the same woman I had shared a marital bed with.

She waited for my response. When none came, she showed no sign of disappointment or discomfort. Speaking as easily if we'd just run into another at a shopping mall, she said: "I'm Caroline, Lucy's girlfriend. I'd ask her to introduce us properly, but I'm afraid" -- she gestured at the tightly trussed figure on the bed, her grin turning to a smirk -- "she's a bit tied up right now."

I glanced at Lucy. She stared back at me, unable to speak because of the ball gag in her mouth, her expression unreadable. Then the implications of what Caroline had just said struck me and I swung back to face her.

Why was she introducing herself, if she knew who I was? Or rather, who I used to be -- Ryan, the husband she'd last seen in a lingerie shop just a few days ago. When she called me Rhiannon, I'd just assumed she somehow knew about the amazing transformation I'd undergone. But maybe she didn't...

Oblivious to the thoughts coursing through my head, and perhaps interpreting my stunned silence as the natural reaction of someone confronted by such a bizarre scene, Caroline continued.

"You're probably wondering how I know who you are. Well, Lucy told me all about her gorgeous new flatmate. I have to say, I thought she was exaggerating. Turns out though you're even hotter than she said you were..."

A small frown creased her forehead as she continued to look at me. "Thing is though, you do look familiar... Have we met before?"

This was not safe territory at all and I hastened to get her away from it. "Uh, not sure, maybe in a bar somewhere?"

That might of course be a true answer, given that we'd come face to face only a couple of nights ago, even if briefly. But in the meantime something else she'd said had finally registered.

"I, ah, didn't know Lucy had a girlfriend. But, you know, I've only met her very recently, so... Have you guys been going out for long?"

If Caroline thought this was a strange question to ask, when she'd just been found standing half-naked over a firmly bound figure with a riding crop in hand, she didn't show it.

"Oh, quite a while," she said easily. "But I guess you could say we decided to take it to a new level after my husband disappeared."

"Your husband... disappeared?"

"Oh yes, it was weird, he just vanished without warning. Happened a month or so back. The police said that maybe he'd got into some kind of trouble and had to lay low."

As she said this she idly ran the fingers of her left hand through her short hair. I noticed that her wedding ring was gone and there was no real mark on her third finger to suggest where it had been -- something that seemed to confirm that she'd removed it some time ago.

Yet I'd only been gone a few days! This was the second time I'd been given reason to question how long it had really been...

"Anyway," she went on, "I decided I wasn't missing anything much, especially when Lucy talked me into trying all this. You know, bondage. I didn't know I had it in me -- but she obviously did."

Her eyes bored into mine. "So, how about it, doll, you up for a threesome? I could get Lucy to lick you out, she'll do whatever I tell her... Won't you babe?"

As she said this she reached sideways with the crop and, still looking at me, flicked it downwards. It made a sharp slapping sound as it made contact with Lucy's belly. Her victim moaned in pain, then produced some inarticulate noises that might have been an attempt to speak.

Caroline nodded as if she'd got the response she wanted. "Or," she said, her smile broadening, "I could give you a bit of a spanking and then get you to put that pretty mouth between both her legs and mine. Have you been naughty, Rhiannon? Do you need to be punished?"

As she said this, she stepped a little closer and pressed the tip of the riding crop against my bare thigh. Gently, she traced a line up my leg until the crop was lifting the skirt of my dress.

It was all I could do not to gasp. As shocked as I was by her wanton behaviour -- not to mention the revelation that she'd been seeing Lucy for some time while we were still living together -- I was also very aroused. Inside my panties, my firmly restrained cock was throbbing.

Reaching down, I took hold of the crop and gently disentangled it from my dress.

"Uh, that's... a very tempting offer," I said, speaking nothing less than the truth. I wasn't sure about being spanked, but the thought of a threesome with Caroline and Lucy was intoxicating -- even if that meant dealing with what Lucy kept inside her own knickers.

"But, um, I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that kind of thing."

Once again, if Caroline was at all put out, she didn't reveal it. "No?" she said. "Well, do let us know if you change your mind... Now, if you'll excuse us, I might get back to having my wicked way with your flatmate."

Blushing furiously, and very conscious of the lump in my panties, I left them to get on with it. Even with the bedroom door closed and some music on, it was impossible not to hear the sounds of both pleasure and pain emanating from Martin's room.

When I heard Caroline climaxing with a passion and volume she had never attained as a result of our lovemaking, I should have been jealous. As it was, I was aroused beyond belief and it took two wanks in quick succession to alleviate my ardour.

It was a good hour and a half before the sound effects died down. Shortly after, I heard the front door open and close. I waited a while and then wandered out to the kitchen to make myself a hot chocolate.

Lucy was reclining on the sofa, dressed in a diaphanous robe. Although she'd been looking at her phone, I had the impression she was waiting for me.

She glanced up, a half-smile playing on her face, which as always was impeccably made up. She showed no sign of trauma from her recent activities, though I suspected her body would still bear the marks of Caroline's punishment. Nor was there a hint of embarrassment or shame.

"Well now Rhiannon," she said in her cultured accent, speaking softly as usual to feminise her voice. "Did you enjoy our little show?"

Ignoring the now familiar shiver that I still experienced on hearing my new name, I hesitated, unsure of what I what should say to that.

"Well," I said slowly, "it was certainly unexpected." Feeling the need to explain myself, I continued.

"Adam got called into the office, so my dinner date got cut short... If I'd known you were, ah, entertaining, I'd have stayed out."

Lucy looked amused. "If you're thinking of apologising, there's really no need, you know. There was nothing there I minded you seeing. I'm just sorry you didn't feel like joining in -- I'd have been happy for you to get your hands on me. Or vice versa, if that's what you preferred. But in the circumstances, I suppose I can't blame you."

Trying not to blush at the implications of what she had just said, I asked rather weakly: "The circumstances?"

Her smile broadened. "Oh come on, as if you didn't recognise who was fucking me! Oh no, wait, you didn't see that bit, did you? But I'm sure you heard it. Anyway, aren't you going to ask me how I came to know your wife? And by 'know' I do of course mean in the biblical sense..." She chuckled.

For the second time that evening I was completely flummoxed. "How...? What...?" I stammered.

Lucy just looked at me steadily, waiting patiently for me to regather my wits. Eventually, I was able to speak, though my voice shook as I did. "Lucy -- tell me what's going on!"

She shrugged. "We're talking, is all. Try asking a more useful question." Her manner was somehow different to the way she'd acted when we had previously met. She was still confident and assured -- but in a completely different way, somehow.

Annoyed by her flippant response, I made a move forwards, thinking that I could shake some sense into her.

She frowned and made a casual gesture with her hand. Suddenly I was colliding with some kind of invisible barrier in the air between us, reeling backwards and only narrowly avoiding the coffee table. As I straightened up, a chair seemed to come from behind me and take out my lower legs, causing me sit down abruptly.

Indignant, I tried to get up... and found that I couldn't move a muscle. It was as if I'd been glued into place.

Lucy, her features once again composed, rose from the sofa and walked languidly over towards the kitchen. I tried to follow her with my eyes, but they too were locked in place. Strangely though, I didn't feel at all concerned. It was as though my emotions were being held in check as profoundly as my movement.

I heard the fridge door open and close, then a clinking sound. Lucy reappeared in my field of vision, carrying a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. She poured two generous measures and set one glass down next to me, then resettled herself with the other on the settee.

She nodded at my drink and I could suddenly move again. Wonderingly, I picked up the glass and, following her lead, took a sip. It was the same delicious vintage that I'd tasted at the bar with her and the other girls, the one whose first swallow had somehow transformed my voice.

"Cheers," said Lucy, raising her glass. I mimicked the gesture -- it didn't even occur to me that I might do otherwise.

As if nothing at all had just happened, she arched an eyebrow at me. "Now," she said in a tone almost dripping with reasonableness, "did you have some questions? Sensible ones, I mean?"

With my freedom to move and think returned, my mind was racing almost as quickly as my heart. Panic fought with curiosity as I strove to figure out what I should ask this woman -- if that's what she was.

I tried to organise my thoughts, but quickly gave that up as a bad job. I was simply too rattled. So I just blurted out: "It was you! You did all this to me!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Now that's a statement, isn't it, not a question... But if by 'all this' you mean trapping you in that shop, making you invisible, changing your voice, giving you boobs -- well, yes, that was me. Though to be fair, I did also send Martin to look after you."

"Send Martin?" I knew there were much more important questions to ask, but I simply couldn't make sense of what she'd just said.

"So you trapped me and then rescued me? Why would you do that? And look, you must be the world's best actor, because I could have sworn he was as surprised to find me there as I was!"

Lucy laughed. "Martin? He had no idea what was going on. Still doesn't, in fact."

I was baffled. "But he's you! You're the same person!"

Lucy waved her hand dismissively. "That's what he thinks. He knows most of what I'm doing -- just not all of it, or why. Or who else I can be."

I stared at her, incredulous. "So you're... what, exactly? Some kind of spirit? A witch? A... a goddess? Something else?"

"Yes." She took another sip of her wine. "Seriously Rhiannon, you're not getting very far, are you? Try asking me what happens next."

I looked up to the ceiling in frustration and ground my teeth. But there was no point getting even more agitated than I already was. Not with so many questions unanswered and this strangely powerful figure able to silence me at will.

So as patiently as I could, I put the query. "So what happens then? To me, I mean."

"Well," she said with a bright smile, "that's rather up to you."

I stared at her. "Up to me?"

She nodded. "Oh yes, it's your choice. You can go back, or you can go forward. Going back means... well, this."

There was no gesture this time, but all of a sudden I was not in the room with her. I was watching a series of scenes flick by in quick succession, as if I were speed-watching a film. Scenes of myself as Ryan, but viewed from some hidden observation point. Scenes that hasn't happened yet, but were yet to come. I saw myself...

Toiling away at work, trying but failing to engage the attention of my boss.

At home with Caroline, chatting away while she kept shooting glances at her phone, the irritation at my presence barely masked.

Making love to her, reaching a noisy and enthusiastic climax while beneath me she yawned.

Walking down the street in the middle of a crowd of office workers, barely distinguishable from all the other men in our charcoal suits, unnoticed and unremarked.

Staring longingly at Emily sitting two tables away in a coffee shop, so sexy and vibrant, her eyes sliding over and through me...

Without warning, I was back with Lucy. "Or," she said, leaning forward slightly as her gaze bored into me, as if trying to pin something down that was wriggling to get free, "you could have this instead."

"This" was another montage, but now with me as Rhiannon -- a fully feminised Rhiannon, I knew instinctively.

Spending time at a mirror, patiently applying and adjusting my makeup, in search of a perfection I could never quite achieve, while in the next room an unknown someone fretted at the delay.

Again, walking down the street in a smart business suit -- but this time seeing almost everyone around reacting to my presence, the men's predatory eyes darting up and down to take in the hint of cleavage revealed by my unbuttoned blouse or to stare at my long, nylon-clad legs.

Laughing on a street outside a bar, as Zoe, Emily, Haruka and Eleanor called out my name, clapping their hands and urging me to ditch my plans and join them.

And more intimate moments. Being lifted bodily by Adam onto the granite surface in a kitchen, legs wide and panties already down by my ankles, our mouths locked in a passionate kiss, the frantic fumbling attesting to our desperate passion, his hand reaching down to unzip his straining fly.

Until he was suddenly replaced by Emily, her face alight with the wonder of our encounter as she broke our kiss and lowered her head to my inflamed nipples...

This time the wrench was more palpable as I returned to the apartment and I gasped, though whether from the shock of the transition or the intensity of the last two scenes I'd just witnessed, I couldn't say.

Lucy gave me a few seconds to recover, then said quietly: "So, here's the deal. I can send you back to being Ryan. You'll pick up exactly where you were in that lingerie shop, all those weeks ago."

She smiled at my expression. "And yes, it was weeks ago. I may" -- she waved her hand airily -- "have messed around with your sense of time a bit. Or, indeed, more than a bit. You were in the shop for a lot longer than you thought."

I opened my mouth to say something about that, but thought better of it. She nodded approvingly.

"You're learning. And before you ask, no, you won't remember any of what's happened to you, or that you even had this alternative path. You will be off in, as they say, a different trouser of time. Or something." She took another sip of wine.

"Or, if you like, you can keep your new identity -- I give you some papers to show who you are, a bit of money to get you started -- and, of course, that one crucial piece of female anatomy you're currently lacking. Well, pieces, really. Although not as many as you might think. Bet you didn't notice when I took away your Adam's apple, did you? Or shrunk it anyway..."

As my hand flew to my throat, she laughed. It was true: the previously prominent lump was much smaller than it had been. What else had she done to me, I wondered? It was all I could do to resist the temptation to reach inside my panties, to check what was there. Or not there.

"If you take the full fem route," she continued, "you can stay here for another couple of weeks until you find somewhere to live. But no longer, mind -- I like having a room of my own. You can even apply for your old job if you want -- nobody will recognise who you were. Though I'm afraid it's possible Emily might beat you to it."

My mind reeled as I tried to take all this in. How on earth could I make a choice like that? I thought of all the things that I'd so quickly grown to love about feeling (mostly) female. The clothes. The shoes. The makeup -- once it was on, at any rate. Being attractive and wanted. Having girlfriends.

But then there was everything else I knew I would have to put up with. Periods, for one. Being hit on, whether I wanted it or not. Being judged by my looks, not who I really was. Losing those looks, eventually...

"So," said Lucy brightly, cutting into my whirling thoughts, "anything else you want to ask?"

I'm sure there were any number of practicalities that I should have explored with her. But in my frazzled state, I kept coming back to just two basic issues. There was the question of who -- or what -- Lucy really was. But I somehow knew that I wouldn't get a straight answer about that. So I broached the other matter instead.

"Why me?" I asked plaintively, throwing my hands in the air. "Why have you done all this to me?"

She nodded at this, as if approving the question.

"In the beginning?" she asked rhetorically,, her face entirely serious for a change. "I just wanted you out of the way -- so I could do what I liked with Caroline. She is quite something, your wife. I've never met anyone quite like her -- and I've known a lot of women over the years, you can be sure of that. And men, for that matter. She's far too good for you -- for Ryan, that is."

I found myself nodding at this. How could I deny it? Though I had to confess that I was puzzled as to why someone as obviously powerful as Lucy would want or even allow herself to be trussed up and physically punished by my apparently dominant wife. Still, that was another mystery that I suspected I wouldn't be permitted to unravel.

Lucy continued: "But then I suppose I started to feel sorry for you. Not just for taking your wife away, or for stranding you in that shop. But for what I could see in you."

She shrugged. "It just seemed to me you might make a better fist of being a woman. So I thought I'd give you the chance to find out." The smile returned. "And have some fun, of course!"

She clapped her hands together. "Okay, it's decision time. Are you going to be Ryan or Rhiannon?"

"Wait," I pleaded, rising to my feet, "I need time to think about it! I'm not ready! Please! You can't -"

Her arched eyebrows were enough to cut me off. "But you've made your decision already. Don't you realise that?"

Her eyes narrowed as she peered at me, as if at an errant computer display. "Oh, right, I can see you don't. Wow. You people never cease to astonish me, you know that? You're so unperceptive..."