The Diary of Jewel Delacroix Ch. 01

This story began as fan fiction inspired by Rik581s intriguing story, "The Marriage of Martin Hastings" series. I found this intriguing as this was my first introduction to forced feminization as an erotic plot device and what I found especially intriguing was the legal aspects that were introduced as central to the story.

That all the frightening and terrible things that were being done to the protagonist were social, culturally, and legally acceptable in the framework of the story made me question "how?"

To make suspension of disbelief, the story had to have a plausible reason that these were allowed and I found that using reason and the slippery slope argument would allow a creative writer to explore the unintended consequences of those actions.

It was this concept I found fascinating and have tried to incorporate into an erotic forced feminization story, set in the original stories universe.

I have also communicated with the author, Rikki and received permission to use some of his characters in my story, but that being said, these are still fan-fiction and not cannon to that story.

So now, the usual disclaimers. This is porn. You must be over 18 to read this. If not, go away and come back when you are old enough. If you are old enough and this style of erotica isn't to your liking, then go find some erotica that is. You are an adult, life is short, find porn you like and read that instead, but if this is a style you enjoy, then feel free to comment and provide constructive criticism and feedback. I need to grow as an author and honest constructive criticism is always welcome.

*****

Jules woke up from his troubled sleep. He couldn't remember his dreams but the feeling of blackness and despair were still lingering in his mind as he lay in bed. He was too warm, and was sweating from the combination of his and his husband's body heat from lying too closely together. Sweat had caused his nightie to cling to his back and bottom. Jules had woken curled up in a fetal position and was in danger of falling off the edge of the bed. Over the course of the night he had scooted ever closer to the edge to distance himself from his husband.

Jules squint his eyes in the candle lit room and pushed some stray locks of his hair away to make out the clock on the nightstand. The ornate porcelain dial face indicated 4:02. Jules moved slightly but his sweat and precarious position slowly caused him to slide off the edge of the bed. Fear of falling and a slight rush of adrenaline gave Jules the energy he needed to sit up and put his heels down to the floor. Jules's calf and ankle muscles began to spasm violently. He had been made to wear high heels to bed because the Count found it sexy and had wanted him to and so his governess saw to it that he did.

Jules had been unable to flex his toes and had slept fitfully as a result, waking into twilight sleep occasionally during the night. Jules opened his mouth to scream, but exercising all the control he could muster he managed to stay quiet, only letting out a silent scream as the muscle spasms in his ankles peaked in intensity, and then slowly passed away.

Jules reached down quietly so as not to wake the Count and slowly removed his 4 inch heel black stiletto pumps from his feet, setting them neatly, side by side, on the floor by the bedside. He wiggled his toes to try and restore blood flow. The cool air wafting over the newly exposed skin of his legs, back, neck and shoulders gave him a sudden chill. Jules involuntarily gasped as he remembered his dream, a dream of falling, endlessly falling into a deep dark void. The return of his dream memory darkened his mood. In a few hours his governess would come for him to start his morning routine and the preparations for whatever they had planned for him that day.

The Count rolled over in his sleep toward where Jules had just been laying. Jules quickly stood up to avoid being touched by his husband and for his effort was rewarded with a new wave of muscle spasms in his legs. Jules fought hard to suppress a whimper and remain standing but couldn't stop small tears from escaping the corners of his eyes as the intensity of the spasms built up, worked them selves out and again slowly subsided.

Jules looked back at his sleeping husband with an eerie mixture of calm loathing and disgust. How many times had his husband exercised his "marital rights" with him on this very bed? He could still taste the results from last evening on his tongue and throat. The smell of semen on his breath made him sick.

Jules was doubly annoyed because it was a large bed that he was forced to sleep in and when he was there the Count always took up most of the space anyway.

Jules was still tired; he was always tired these days. He considered walking around to the other side of the bed and trying to go back to sleep, but couldn't do it. He just couldn't voluntarily get back into bed with his husband. Jules shivered as his and his husbands shared perspiration cooled on his body.

Five years! Jules could hardly believe that last nights party was an anniversary party. His anniversary! A spectacular affair with the creme of society all to celebrate five years of the count's and his successful arranged marriage.

Jules stood in the cool darkness a while, shifting his weight from foot to foot, trying to stretch and work out the kinks in his sore leg muscles as he wondered what he should do. Exposure to the cool air had dried his sweaty skin and he absentmindedly pulled his clinging nightie away from where it had stuck to him and smoothed it down. As he did the same with his panties his stomach growled softly and he felt the first stirrings of hunger and thirst.

He glanced back at the clock, 4:17, and decided to walk down to the kitchens and find something to eat. Jules peeled of the nightie soiled with sweat and his husbands spent seed. Jules slowly peeled away his panties, also sticky with his husbands sperm. He left them on the floor for the staff to pick up.

Jules stepped quietly over to his private master bathroom and into the shower. A quick but thorough scrubbing with the wash cloth and his body was clean again. Jules carefully avoided wetting his face or hair as he couldn't replicate the professional cosmetic effects on his own. Stopping briefly in front of his vanity he fixed his smeared lipstick, ruined from the oral ministrations he was forced to perform on his husband a few short hours ago. Jules then walked to his closet, really an enormous room in its own right, and selected an identical nightie to the one he had been wearing, then an identical matching panties and a complementary sheer peignoir. It did nothing for warmth and barely added to his modesty but if he was outside his room and caught without it he knew he would be in trouble. "A lady is always appropriately dressed for any occasion." His governess had admonished him more than once.

Jules walked quietly back into the master bedroom and put his heels back on. As painful as they were to wear to bed, for some reason he didn't understand his feet and calves actually suffered when he didn't wear them when standing or walking.

Jules walked to the door, his heels making no noise on the thick carpet. He quickly and quietly went through the door and out into the hallway. Shutting the door softly behind him, Jules turned and found himself face to face with one of the guards, sitting in a leather low back chair facing the bedroom door. The guard looked up sleepily and then with surprise to see Jules up and alone, without his chaperone.

The guard remained seated and rubbed his eyes. He seemed unsure of what to do.

"Good Morning Lady Delacroix. May I help you?" the uncertainty was evident in his voice.

Jules wondered if the guard had been sleeping while on duty. He didn't know the man's name. He didn't know the names of any of the security staff. He didn't even remember ever seeing this one before. Certainly he was not one of the guards who routinely helped to abuse him. Jules knew though that he needed to be careful. He had no authority over any of the security personnel.

"No thank you; I am just going to the kitchen." Jules confidence faltered and he struggled to maintain eye contact and not lower his eyes. With some effort though he held the guards gaze, he was only a servant after all. When the guard said nothing Jules turned away and walked down the hall.

"I'll call ahead and let them know you are coming." the guard sounded relieved to have figured out something to do.

Jules didn't acknowledge the comment. He didn't want anything he said to get back to his governess. He had learned that the more he said, the more opportunities he gave his governess to misinterpret what he said to her advantage. It was rare these days but sometimes he still struggled to control himself.

Jules walked past a mirror in the hallway and caught a glimpse of himself wearing the deep red satin nightie with a plunging neckline and a hem that was so short that it barely covered his panties. His matching red sheer lace peignoir barely made it to mid thigh. A study in red, Jules thought petulantly, Except that my panties are white; white with an off-white "I'm Taken" applique embossed across his bottom. Jules hated them.

To anyone else he knew he had that freshly fucked look some find arousing. To himself he thought he looked bedraggled with his brunette hair in wild disarray. His governess had teased and brushed and styled his hair for the evening, but the results were no longer visible after... Jules felt shame again... after the Count... took him... pulled his hair...forced him to...

Jules walked quietly down the stairs through the main hall and cut through the main formal dining room to the kitchen. The tapping of his high heels on the hardwood floors echoing through the room. He arrived and waited momentarily for the automatic sensor to turn on the lights. The kitchen was quite large and equipped with commercial grade stainless steel appliances. The Count needed a kitchen this size for a staff to be able to prepare food for the many large and exclusive functions he hosted. Jules was angered when he thought about all the functions he was made to oversee and host as Countess.

Normally Jules was never left alone and realizing the kitchen staff hadn't arrived yet gave him some small sense of freedom. Thirst first. Making his way to the refrigerator he found a pitcher of juice and a small tray of pastries.

Grabbing both he turned and shut the refrigerator door with a bump from his hip, then nearly dropped them both in fright as he was surprised to see that someone was watching him from the doorway.

The security guard spoke first. "I'm sorry Lady Delacroix, did I startle you?"

Jules looked down slightly. "Um, yes, I didn't hear you."

There was a prolonged silence as Jules stood there, in his 4 inch heels and lingerie. He looked up to see the guard was appraising him.

Jules felt like he should say something, and was glad when the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway to the servants quarters prevented the need for him to do so.

Jules watched as an attractive petite brunette walked in wearing a chef's uniform of the kitchen staff.

"Oh! Good morning lady Delacroix. Up early today? I was just up and about to prepare and bake the morning pastries. May I make you something?" she seemed hesitant and unsure. Jules noticed her looking around to see who else was with him. He had never entered the kitchen this early or unaccompanied before.

Even though Jules hated being seen dressed like this, he found it interesting that the staff were the ones off balance for a change. Jules was hungry; he decided he had to say something. When he was with the regular household staff he was expected to act like a Countess should.

"No thank you. I was just feeling a bit hungry and am getting something to eat." he moved toward the table in the kitchen near the side.

The cook moved quickly to intervene. "Oh no My Lady, these won't do." she quickly took the tray and pitcher out of Jules's hands. "These are leftovers... they're for the staff. I shall prepare you freshly baked pastries and freshly squeezed orange juice right away. Where would you like to be served? Not here of course, this table is for the staff, maybe the patio? But it's just almost dawn and still a bit cool outside" she nodded her head toward Jules making the obvious gesture to his sheer bed clothing. "Or perhaps the conservatory? Or perhaps breakfast in bed with your husband? Would you like coffee as well?"

Jules was distinctly annoyed by the slight change in her tone when she spoke to him. She seemed to have recovered from her surprise and her expression also seemed to him as if she was laughing at him. He knew better than to say anything negative with the security staff watching. Maybe he was imagining it anyway.

Jules involuntarily looked down out of embarrassment for how he was dressed. He had clasped his hands together automatically, palm to palm, held evenly in front of his abdomen. His elbows tucked in by his sides, one foot slightly forward of the other and back and shoulders straight. How effortless it was becoming to stand in the poses exactly as his governess had instructed him. He looked at the scars on his wrists from the numerous strikes with a ruler. No, not instructed...trained.

"The conservatory will be fine, and coffee." Jules looked back up. He couldn't remember ever having coffee; always herbal tea instead. He wondered why that was as he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, back through the formal dining room and into the main hall. When he glanced back over his shoulder he saw the guard was following him at a close yet respectful distance. Not his usual bodyguard. Not at that time of day. The female bodyguard who normally helped his governess persuade him to do as he was told, Jules assumed she would still be in bed at this hour.

Jules turned at the foyer giving wide berth to the stairs leading back to the second floor where the master bedroom, and his husband, lay sleeping and walked toward the back of the house to the conservatory. The conservatory had been built next to the patio. Jules recalled how years ago and new to his home he had been told by his governess that the room had been entirely redone for his use as Lady Delacroix. It still annoyed Jules how overcrowded it was to him, with every variety of sweet smelling flowering plant, A riot of bright colors crowding every available space. He had been forced to entertain other society ladies many times here with brunches or high tea, or any variety of social events if the weather didn't permit the use of the large outdoor gardens. One of the changes Jules tried to make was remove the flowers and bring in Cactus plants. He was only partially successful. A flowering cactus was brought in and added to one corner of the room, surrounded by other plants and flowers so no one came too close to accidentally be stuck by a needle. Jules was disappointed in this failure and couldn't even remember what type of cactus it was.

Jules's security went and sat down on a bench near the exit to the patio. From there he could see Jules anywhere in the room. Jules sat down daintily on the pastel cushion of one of the wrought iron chairs arranged around a matching table. Light and airy garden style furniture set in the exact center of the room. He sat upright, posture correct, knees together and feet slightly back and underneath him. He rested his hands together on his lap, automatically now, without considering how effortless it had all become. With nothing to do now but wait for the servant to bring him his breakfast Jules brooded over his situation.

The indirect lighting, "grow-lights" for the plants, the soft lights from a koi pond and even more lights from a fountain and a waterfall added to the gathering morning light shining in through the glass panes making the entire conservatory almost ethereal in appearance. One might almost expect a garden fairy to fly by through all the beauty. Jules however could only see the gilded cage for what it was; an inescapable prison.

**

Leanne had just woken up from her alarm clock. 4:30 was early for some, but she had always been an early riser. Her husband lay next to her and was still sound-asleep. Leanne always enjoyed her mornings alone to shower, prepare for work, drink tea, and set out clothes and lunch for her husband. She idly thought of his upcoming birthday and reminded herself to give notice to the Count she would be taking a personal vacation day for it. Her reverie was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

Who could that be at this hour? Answering it before the second ring could finish she heard the voice of the night shift's security guard.

Leanne listened carefully and frowned. Jules was already awake? She wondered if he was becoming acclimated to the modest dose of the sleeping pills they gave him with his evening tea. She made a mental note to consult the physician to see if an increase in the dose was warranted. As the voice on the other end finished his report Leanne responded directly. "Just give her the usual breakfast, but no coffee. Yes. No. I'll be there at my appointed time. Thank you. Good bye."

Leanne thought for a moment. Jules waking up early was interesting, but not a cause for concern just yet. Good thing they told her about the coffee. She didn't want the Countesses pearly white teeth to become coffee stained.

**

Jules picked at his meal. He was hungry but for some reason couldn't seem to eat much. Being told he wasn't allowed to have coffee irritated him. His stomach seemed upset all the time and he wondered about his health. At only 5'9" he had always been thin. Jules felt the weight of his 38C breasts and the fullness of his hips. Jules full woman's bottom filled out his panties and nightie perfectly giving him curves in all the right places.

Jules mentally recounted all the surgeries and changes that had been forced upon him.

Jules remembered how he used to enjoy swimming and hockey back in Minnesota. When you're small and come from a relatively rich family you tend to be picked on. Although he had never been able to "bulk up" like he wanted to, swimming had made him stronger and his muscles were toned. Swimming had always worked to lift his mood. Now he lamented the loss of muscle tone those five years of failure of his inability to thwart their plans to reshape his body and mind and mold him for his life as a rich society wife.

Jules had one hope left. The fifth anniversary party was over. He would be given relatively more freedom and he was finally going to be allowed to visit his family today. He hoped that he would be able to tell them all that had happened. He missed them terribly.

He also had finally persuaded the count to allow him to meet the reporter. Jules only hoped he would be able to persuade her to aid him in his endeavor.

His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of the security staff. Jules saw the guard holding his hand to his ear. He realized they must have new equipment and now communicate by radio with concealed ear pieces and wrist microphones.

Jules overheard and saw the guard speaking into his wrist "Of course sir, yes sir, I'll escort her up right away sir."

The guard approached Jules's table "The Count requests your company and asks that I bring you to him".

Jules's emotions drained away and emptiness filled his soul as the guard smiled and held out his hand.

"Of course." Jewel spoke softly in the sultry feminine voice they had long ago trained him to use. His voice coach had said his new voice was a contralto; something very rare among women.

Jules stood and took the arm the guard held out for him. Jules walked next to the guard as he allowed him to lead him back to the master bedroom. He let his thoughts wander. He fantasized that the guard had slipped, tripped and fell, striking his head on the immaculate tile floor. There would be blood, so much blood as his life ran out. Jewel looked up at the escorting guard and smiled.