Life and Time of Lady Vargos Ch. 08

"Lies, Truth, and Innuendo"

Martin was pressed into attending to his duties that week as Lady Vargos. With little or no manly pride left to swallow or cling to, he performed his daily routines dressed as a woman, both publicly and privately. Each day seemed to bring more heart felt shame and humiliation into his life as he stepped out and displayed his emasculated male persona in public more and more frequently now.

His duties and preparations for the big gala required his presence in many places. Being seen publicly dressed as a woman daily when it was common knowledge he was a man, didn't ease Martin's deep humiliation. There was no getting accustomed to the public's reactions, and he could not help but feel ashamed when people stared at him or took pictures with their phones, which they always did.

"I can't believe this is happening to me," he scolded himself as people became more amused at the sight of him each time out. "Why do I allow this to continue?" he thought as a bit of male resistance charged his thoughts. As if he had a choice in the matter.

Martin knew the answers to that question though. He hadn't allowed any of this to happen and had tried his best to resist. He was being forced to be a woman while still calling him a man, because he was being presented publicly as a crossdresser. The PCP collar around his neck that told the public he was a crossdresser and not a woman was the final insult. It also to let the authorities and store owners know he was registered and legal to crossdress in public. Martin couldn't accept the degradation he was feeling. His head would hang and his eyes would lower sadly when he became the focal point in public.

Martin felt completely demoralized as a man, like he was nothing more than a spectacle now. He couldn't even remember what he looked like as a man any more. He was now a public oddity that everyone wanted to see and everybody seemed to have an opinion about. Gossip ran rampant through the social circles he and the Baron moved in, especially those women's groups where Martin was being forced to participate.

The women of those groups felt insulted that a man was being allowed to sit in on their activities and meetings.

"Putting a dress and high heels on a man does not qualify him to be on the board of my women's charity. He is not a woman," Mrs. Thompson said angrily under her breath to a couple of friends. She held the curtains back and watched through the window while Martin got out of the limo in front of her house arriving punctually late for the women's weekly tea, as usual.

"He is the wife of a very powerful Baron, and you are the wife of a successful business man. Isn't that right Maggie?" Claire Johnson spoke calmly watching over Maggie's shoulder.

"He's a wife? Maggie huffed. "If you say so."

"Well I was thinking maybe you could change your charity to a Wives Charity instead of a women's. Then it would be more accommodating to him."

"Don't even compare or associate that man with me Claire Stevens. There is a dick hanging under that dress. Let's get real. The women in my family have operated this charity for almost a hundred years and it is insulting to me and my family. I will not be subjected to this charade nor will I change anything to accommodate him," Maggie said speaking louder so all the women could hear her.

"Well then, why don't you just tell him he can no longer participate in your charity," another soft spoken woman's voice said from behind her.

It was Alice Cambridge.

"Tell him it is because he is a man and you only allow women in your women's club."

Alice was the dame of society. Heading up events and galas in her name for the benefit of charities and special projects in the community. Her projects were always a headline in the social columns, but most of all, she promoted herself.

Alice would participate in these smaller social groups like Maggie's charity more to give advice and her opinions on planned social events. She also was watching what was happening with a keen eye and would even steal good ideas and promote them herself as her own. This made her a lot of allies who were afraid of making her angry and many enemies of the very powerful women such as Constance Vargos.

Maggie turned and looked at Alice.

"I notice he is not involved in any of your endeavors Alice," she said bluntly.

"Oh well darling, my projects don't really require a crossdressed man to get noticed and men are forbidden in my women's club. I don't let others tell me who should and should not be in my organizations," she said noticing Maggie's face redden.

"You're such a bitch Alice," she snapped at her.

"Oh well, look at it this way darling, he has enough in common with this group to be a member in my opinion. Look at him," she said as they watched Martin walking from the limo to the front door.

"Isn't he pretty today. That red hair and those clothes and especially those shoes. Why do you think he likes to wear such high heels all the time?" Alice clapped her hands together, "He is so elegant and yet so dated. He wears it well. Right out of the 70's wouldn't you say?."

"What are you trying to say?" Maggie was insulted by the suggestion that her own wardrobe was somehow dated.

"Well let's be honest here darling. You are both wives to strong dominating men. You see, I don't need a man in my life to tell me what to do as you know."

"Maybe a man is what you do need Alice. Just can't find one that will hang around long enough to be considered with you," Maggie said trying to defend against the insults that were subtly flowing at her now.

"He actually has a more sophisticated look as a woman than you do Maggie, but then again he does have professional personal attendants and a clothing designer," Alice said ignoring the statement.

Alice smiled and looked off in reflection as she knew Maggie was fuming.

"I would assume you both suck your husband's dick don't you?" Alice said confidently.

"WHAT?" Maggie snapped looking shocked but not surprised that Alice would say such a thing to her face.

"Well darling, we never hear any good gossip among the girls about any concubines leaving your house do we dear. Must be taking care of things yourself."

Maggie was stunned. She stood there for a moment with her mouth wide open.

"That is none of your business. You have a lot of nerve Alice,"

Maggie would have thrown anybody else out of her house immediately, but Alice was an important social cog that you didn't want to lose. She was known for being insulting and self righteous and pious in her point of view.

"It's ok Maggie don't worry about it. I'm sure there are many women who like to do that type of thing themselves. And of course those that can't afford concubines, well they have little choice. Makes them feel needed by their men I guess, but I think that gives you Mrs. Vargos enough in common to chat about and for him to be a part of this quaint little social group of yours."

"I was wrong when I called you a bitch Alice and I'm sorry dear. You're a fucking cunt."

"Yes, well let's go greet the crossdresser who is part of YOUR women's group Maggie," she said walking away.

Little of these women's objections were voiced publicly, but there were often petty back and forths amongst themselves privately. After all it is was the women in these groups that had allowed this all to happen. They could have said no to request Martin be allowed to join in just as Alice had suggested, but they all appreciated the Baron's generosity when it came to their social fund raisers when Martin was part of the effort and nobody wanted to be the one that disappointed him and his generosity. So Martin was outwardly greeted with warm smiles of welcome from these ladies, just like he was one of the girls. They complimented his looks and told him how happy they were to see him though it was through clenched jaws and gritted teeth.

There was still gossip and strong belief amongst the society scene that Martin had actually seduced the Baron into this relationship. It was believed he himself was some kind of masochistic lover of humiliation and the shocking of the public with his outlandish feminine looks and submissive displays of being a crossdresser were part of a lifestyle he craved.

There were always comments about how Martin was performing as a pseudo woman to the Baron and speculation on what went on behind closed doors. Martin resented the fact he couldn't reach out and explain his situation to each person, letting them know that the opinions they were forming based on what they were seeing and hearing were wrong.

Social discord, public crossdressing and gossip were happening in all aspects of Martin's life now. He seldom said anything to anyone but was always the subject of interest. How were so many quotes being contributed to a man who seldom spoke in public. The interest in Martin grew as facts and innuendo mixed to create an almost fictitious public image that only stirred more speculation and generated even more interest. Everyone had it seemed an opinion of Martin's lifestyle and speculated on what each move he made actually meant.

Three days before the big unveiling of Martin's painting, and the night he would also accept being placed in a chastity device, Martin was to find out how much of public opinion was being formed.

Martin was dressed in a sleeveless summer dress for the day. It was white, with yellow, red and green floral designs. It was being said Martin preferred to wear dresses with floral designs, since he wore them more often than not for casual wear. He was wearing his D-cup bra as usual and 5" spike high heel sandals that were white.

Martin wore no foundation controlling undergarments today. Only panties. His legs had been freshly shaven this morning and Brittney had redone his toenails the evening before.

His makeup was bold and glamorous. Martin was used to the extremes in his makeup now. Leanne had begun not allowing Martin to see his face when he was without makeup and that had contributed to Martin's forgetting his male image. Leanne had put his hair in a French Twist hairdo today. A jeweled hair comb set off the hair. A pair of earrings were clipped onto his lobes. They were 1" in diameter and were gold trimmed with brightly colored green stones in the set.

Martin hated change in the morning routine. It usually meant something was up, and never meant anything good as far as he was concerned. Especially this morning when he was politely escorted by the security down the hallway of his own house.

Once he was led into the study Martin knew why. The lady security staff member was waiting with the long rubber dildo that came out of the top of a 24" chrome pole. Martin had been forced to wear this before once before.

Though hesitant Martin was escorted in and bent over a chair where he and the rubber dildo were lubricated and the dildo was slid firmly inside his rectum.

A very low grunting sound at first from Martin was all that was heard as he felt the length of the rubber shaft slide deeper and deeper. Martin's panties were then pulled up pushing to the side in his crotch where the devise was in place.

Martin glared at the woman as she cleaned her hands.

"You have no conscious at all do you," Martin said looking at her with only the 24" off chrome visible hanging out his ass.

He was then escorted to the veranda where the rest of pole was waiting. The pedestal was a bit different this time. It was a white concrete table standing two feet from the ground. It was only two feet in diameter on the top but four feet on the base for support. There were steps for Martin to use to walk up onto the pedestal.

"Really," he said looking at the pedestal pulling back a little.

"Please step up on the pedestal sir," the security lady said grinning taking him by the arm.

Martin took a hesitant first step. He knew what they were going to do to him. He then allowed himself to be escorted to the pedestal. His heels making distinctive clicking sounds on the veranda as he approached. The sound of his heels changed as he stepped up the two wooden steps onto the pedestal. Martin was positioned in the middle facing out over the manor grounds. His legs were spread slightly and the pole from the table raised and slid inside the two feet of the chrome pole that hung from Martin. The pole was fastened tight with thumb screws. Martin stood silently impaled on the pedestal while the skirt on his dress was straightened.

"Why am I out here?" Martin asked as they hurried about without saying a word.

The steps were removed and Martin stood alone on the pedestal unable to get off the pole that now impaled him in this strange manner of immobilizing him. Martin couldn't understand why though. He was free to walk about the house and greet people and be as rude as he pleased.

"Wait," Martin said as they both left the veranda.

Martin looked out over the grounds. The grounds keepers were just getting started for the day. They all noticed Martin standing on the second floor veranda his full skirt gently blowing in the light breeze, but tried to act like they hadn't.

They all remembered Martin walking about the gardens with the head of his penis exposed out the top of his bikini bottom, wearing his Bliss Mask making them all uncomfortable as he greeted them.

The doors opened and a very cheerful voice greeted him.

"Good morning Mrs. Vargos. And how are you today sir?"

Martin could hear the high heels of the woman as she approached from behind him. It was a voice he didn't recognize.

It was Phoebe Mills the local gossip columnist. She wrote about the happenings and the who's who in the area. Her columns were very popular and her reputation huge among her adoring fans, but not as much so with the subjects of some of her pieces. She prided herself with getting the truth and details for her readers about the hot gossip of the day.

There were many beleaguered subjects of her attention that claimed what she couldn't find out she would insinuate or just make it up to sell more tabloids. Extremely popular in the women's groups.

Martin looked at her as she became visible to him. She was in her middle forties with red hair much like Martin's. Her hair was teased out in a bouffant that had curls that flipped up around the bottom. The difference between her and Martin as far as hair was concerned is she seemed very proud of the way she looked.

"My name is Phoebe. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you," she said introducing herself extending her hand with her long nails polished a dark purple and the fourth fingernail fashionably a different color. Gold!

Martin stared at her. Then he took her hand and shook it dismissively.

She then was amused as she realized he was standing with a pole up his skirt.

"Oh my goodness," she exclaimed with a laugh, "You are an eccentric one aren't you. Do you like this?"

"What do you think?" Martin snarled at her.

"Do you stand out here on that pedestal often?"

"Who are you and what do you want?" Martin asked. He now knew he had been put out here like this for this meeting so he could be seen.

"With all the speculation and gossip going on and the publics desire for more information, I want the truth sir. You can trust me," she said pulling out a pen and pad like she was about to take dictation. She then had a seat in front of him in a chair that had been placed out for her.

"What? Who are you?"

"Phoebe Mills sir. I write a column for a local tabloid. We pride ourselves on getting the unvarnished truth for our readers."

"You are a gossip columnist and you want me to tell you the truth? Who let you in here? I think you need to leave now before I say what is really on my mind."

"Oh yes sir. Please speak your mind. We are meeting out here privately so it's just me and you."

Martin looked at the woman who seemed ready to exploit any move he made. He thought she was a little over dressed for the occasion. Red pumps and a tight knee length red dress. Her curves were so round and molded that she was probably wearing a girdle and longline bra to keep away any unsightly rolls.

"I was kidnapped and sold and am being held here as a sex slave against my will. I am forced to dress like a woman and forced to have sex with a man. I was forced to get married to him." Martin looked at her as she just looked at him. "Am I using the word 'forced" too much for you? Are you getting it?" he asked sarcastically.

"Really. Is that part of your fantasy. Being seen as a helpless sex slave," she said looking him over.

"This is not my idea," he said.

"Of course it's not," she said again. Then her facial expression changed and she smiled. "Is that how you want people to react when they see you? Pity? Is that what excites you?" she asked now ready to write.

"It's the truth." Martin was confused.

"Poor Mrs. Vargos is forced to dress like a woman and have sex with his husband," she giggled. "Is that the scenario that turns you on?"

"It's not funny you bitch. It's the truth," Martin yelled at her.

"Sure it is," she said giving him a knowing look.

"Get out of my house, now," Martin said pointing at the door.

"What do you think it was that made you so much more special to the Baron than all the others?" she asked like a reporter now.

"Are you listening to me?" Martin said raising his voice. "I said leave."

She stood in front of him.

"Here are some facts sir that I have assembled about the Baron." she said taking out some papers from her purse ignoring his demands that she leave.

"Fact number one!" she said holding up a finger. "The Baron was engaged to a young woman some years ago until his parents were able to break it up and had the girl unceremoniously removed form the country on trumped up charges as far as I'm concerned. I covered that entire affair actually in one of my pieces back then. Check the article if you want the whole truth on the matter. It was interesting how that all went down."

"I don't care. What I am saying is fact too lady," he snarled at her.

"Fact number two! she said holding up a finger again, "The Baron then began dating young men privately and publicly causing confusion among the public and my readers. Was it because he was getting back at his mother for breaking up his engagement to the woman he loved? Or was the engagement to cover the fact he preferred men and he just came out of the closet to piss off his mother? His mother doesn't like the idea of him dating men you know. I interviewed her and got her side of the story. What a wicked bitch she is."

Martin hesitated when he heard what Phoebe said. Was he being used as a pawn in the Baron's battle with his mother. Destroying Martin's life just to get back at his mother. But why not get a volunteer? Martin knew this woman was a snake, but she had been around a long time and knew a few things. He needed to keep her close, and as allied as possible.

"What do you want from me," he said looking at her reluctantly.

"What was it about you that made the Baron want to settle down and get married to you?"

"I don't know."

"Was it because you are a masochist and the ability to say you are being forced to do all this, along with all this as a lifestyle works for you?"

"I'm not a masochist."

"What about the fact that the Baron did an arranged marriage this time so his parents couldn't block it. Not to mention the fact that you dress as a woman all the time just drives his mother crazy. She see's you as an embarrassment to the family's name. I think you look lovely by the way," she said gently touching his leg.

This woman brought up some interesting possibilities. As crazy as they sounded they seemed to all fit together and make sense in some weird way. A lot more sense to Martin than just some man fell in love with him. She had more knowledge of this man the Baron and his past than Martin could have ever achieved on his own. She made Martin reflect now.