Lady Ann's Holiday - Chapter Seventeen - Part Two

6

The woman who looked... and acted like the one true Lady Ann sat at her dresser, gently brushing her beautiful long hair, musing over the man she was planning to spend the evening with.

Richard Hurley was so handsome. Picturing his firm muscular body and statuesque face made her feel quite aflutter and queerly lightheaded. He was kind and distinguished and perfectly well bred. Not only that but he was from an excellent background, a peer of the realm who still had a thriving income. He didn’t rely on slowly dwindling ancestral wealth; he had a prosperous business that showed every indication of growing in success.

In short, he was as eligible a bachelor as anyone could find. And he was plainly besotted with her. The situation was perfect, but also all too flawed.

Burt imagined what it would be like to be proposed to by this dapper gentleman. She imagined a long life of pampered luxury with a man who adored her for being the woman she was. She allowed herself the luxury of considering, just for a second, the possibility of not going back to Yorkshire, of not returning this body she’d borrowed. She imagined instead, remaining here in London to see out this budding romance, to let it go where it might... just to see what would come of it – though she was becoming increasingly sure of Richard’s eventual intentions. 

But she could never do that to the real Lady Ann. Burt had given her word that she would do right by the real Ann and she couldn’t let her down.

Burt sat back and pondered on that for a minute.

The real Ann...

She felt like she was the real Ann really. She had definitely become Lady Ann now in shape and deed. She sounded and acted exactly like the lady herself might have. It felt ridiculous to refer to someone else as herself. After all, for now, she really was the one and only Lady Ann. Surely, in her former shoes, the original Ann would have taken on her mannerisms and mode of speech as surely as she had done. If her transformation was anything to go by, right now, the original Ann was probably acting fully like a man, stomping round talking with a thick Yorkshire accent. It was even possible that the drop in education she had witnessed before leaving the manor; the new Burt’s inability to write properly; had continued further. In all likelihood that new Burt had become as backward and as much a common simpleton as she had once been.

To think of that person as Ann and she as Burt no longer seemed correct – it didn’t feel accurate in the least. She had told herself the current truth a hundred times and she did so now, looking herself in the eye.

“I am Lady Ann now, the one and only Lady Ann. The person who used to be Lady Ann is now Burt. He is just a lower class stable hand. He isn’t Lady Ann at all.”

The new Ann; the only Ann; smiled at herself in the mirror and thought again about meeting Richard later. That was going to be simply delightful.

It felt good to really think of herself as Ann now. With only one day left to enjoy it, it seemed foolish not to do anything else.

7

“Burt” walked down into Griply village feeling a lot better than he had the night before.

Last night he’d been filled with despondence about how low he had fallen but the afternoon dozing in his treetop perch had done wonders to settle his mind. Wallowing in his persona as Burt had steadied the erratic thoughts flitting about his head that made him resent being so common. The day on the stocks had taught him that he was nothing but a common man now but part of him had still fought against that: a losing battle to be certain. He could rail against being a peasant as much as he wanted – it didn’t make it any less true. Now though, after telling himself he was Burt over and over again, maybe a hundred or a thousand times, he didn’t feel the need to struggle against it.

For now he was Burt. There was no point denying it or feeling bad about it. It’s just how it was. It was the only thing that could be true until Lady Ann came back from London.

Burt paused, frowning.

Until Lady Ann came back from London...

He had thought of her as an entirely separate person – as though he really wasn’t Lady Ann at all no more. He thought about that for a minute. Yes. That was how he saw it. She was Lady Ann; he was Burt.

He wondered that the thought of that didn’t send him screaming to the hills but it just felt normal. It felt real. And he was getting his old body back by tomorrow at the latest so there was no need to fret. He was a man. He was Burt. He liked who he was. He was going to continue to enjoy it.

Burt went into the Dog & Pony and shelled out for a drink. When the lads saw he had cash to spend they didn’t rib him so much so that was good. He knocked back his first pint and ordered another.

Jeb was there and they started chatting.

“The foreman at the farm said you did a right good job on them ditches Burt,” said Jeb.

Burt grinned, feeling proud of himself.

“He said you were a hardworking man wot did as he was told. He’d welcome you back if you ever get tired of shovelling horse shite.”

Burt laughed, necking his pint, thinking about getting the most out of being Burt for this one last day. “Ere,” he said, deciding to probe a little on a suspicion he had that might go a way to help emphasise the change that had come over him. “Why couldn’t I ‘elp do the lambing when I was as the farm?”

“I told you already.”

“Tell me again.” Burt wanted to relish in it.

“Well everyone knows ‘ereabouts that you ain’t the sharpest tack in the box and lambin’s skilled work.”

“Meanin’ what?”

“Meaning, basically,” said Jeb, “That you ain’t clever enough to do it.”

Burt smirked, enjoying this underscoring of his limited brain power now that he didn’t resent it no more. “You mean I’m too stupid to do it?”

“Yeah,” said Jeb. “No offence but you’ve got the kind of brain that does best followin’ simple instructions; doing heavy lifting, digging ditches; that sort of stuff.”

Who he was now couldn’t be said plainer than that. “Well. I guess there are them as got brains and them that ain’t,” said Burt.

“Aye,” said Jeb “And Burt my friend, I’m sorry to say that you are one of the ones that ain’t.”

It crossed Burt’s mind then to start a fight over this, to lamp Jeb a good one in the face and end up rolling about in the filth under the tables... but the trouncing he’d got by the bouncer at the races had sapped his confidence for that sort of thing. He was afraid the same thing would happen again.

Instead he joined in on the chuckling that Jeb and the other men around were having at his expense on account of his being a dimwit, thinking aloud in his mind, I’m Burt ‘Arper and I’m thick as a brick. I ain’t got no prospects. I’m not fit to do nothing but hard labour.

Again he felt the warm tingling at the base of his skull, mingled with the rosy glow of the beer taking hold.

8

“Ann” smiled beautifully as Lord Hurley twirled her round the dance floor, waltzing into the evening.

It had been such an enchanting dinner and now the fairytale continued. Al the other women were wearing gowns as beautiful as hers, the men wearing dapper eveningwear as well, and Ann felt overwhelmed by the magic of it all.

When the dance came to a close she was flushed and breathless and Richard led her out onto the balcony to cool off.

“I’ve enjoyed myself so much,” said Ann. “I’m so glad I decided to stop being silly and see you again before I went back.”

“Yes,” replied Richard gently. “I fear if you hadn’t agreed to come I might have had to break down your door and drag you out anyway.”

Ann felt a thrill of delight to imagine this strong masterful man doing that. “Well perhaps I should have said no then,” she said coyly. “Or perhaps I should say no next time.”

“But I thought there wasn’t going to be a next time. You’re travelling back tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yes,” said Ann sadly, the mood faltering. “I forgot. I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot… I had to go back.”

“You’re such a beautiful woman,” said Richard, stepping closer. “And so divinely feminine and sweet.”

Ann’s cheeks coloured. “Richard. Please.”

“You know I always held your beauty in the highest esteem but it has only been since your trip to London that your disposition has captured my heart.”

“Really?” Ann couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Before you seemed a little… shrewish if the truth be told. Too… arrogant and even… spiteful. But now I see the woman you’ve become and am in awe of your goodness.”

“Oh Richard,” breathed Ann. “I never realized you felt that way. That you prefer me to… to the way I used to be.”

“I… esteem you so very highly Ann dear.”

“And I you,” she sighed in return, and then their lips touched, just the slightest tender brush but a contact that seemed to capture the moment as though it were a diamond that could be held and treasured.

Ann’s body lit up with the physical contact. She had never felt so perfectly alive. And then Richard pulled away and her heart wrenched for the need of him.

“Oh Richard…”

“Ann. Dear. I beg you to agree to postpone your departure by just a little. If I could only see you again one more time before you go. I cannot see you tomorrow but the day after I am yours entirely.”

Ann thought of… Burt… back in Yorkshire awaiting her return but it was impossible to recognize his needs against the intensity of her own. He was safe enough in Yorkshire. A delay of a day or two wouldn’t really matter and she couldn’t bear the idea of never seeing Richard again.

“Alright,” she said, holding his hand. “I’ll stay for two more days.”

“Oh Ann. You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

“No,” replied Ann. “But I know how happy it makes me.”

9

Burt sat against the wall in the Dog & Pony feeling suitably bladdered, enjoying the warmth throughout his body and half regretting his was going to change back next day.

He’d had a right grand evening with his mates and was going to miss palling around with them when he had turned back into Lady Ann. He chuckled. Imagine their faces if he came back in here when he was a fine lady! The looks on their faces!

But he knew he’d be back to being a right posh bird in no time flat and far too stuck up to sully himself with actually coming down here to have a good time. He sneered at that. He still thought it was a shame he couldn’t have it all – the money and the good honest salt-of-the-earth outlook on life. Being rich again would be reet champion but he couldn’t abide the idea of strutting round like a smarmy toff.

He wondered actually whether he could control the return change as he had done this side of it. What if he didn’t keep reiterating that he was Lady Ann. Would he retain the down-to-earth qualities he’d come to admire? He guessed he’d keep the thick Yorkshire accent if he did and he might go on being illiterate and dimwitted – but then, what had book learning ever really done for him? He’d have all the money in the world to spend! What would it matter if he had no education and the brain of a halfwit as long as he didn’t end up strutting round all arrogant-like?

He chuckled again. He actually liked the idea of that!

The pub was all but empty now and Mavis was cleaning up, wearing her usual slutty dress. She hadn’t spoken to him since the day in the stocks but she’d thrown him a nasty glare or two. But he fancied one last good shag before he changed back into Lady Ann so he gathered his courage and called across to her.

“Ere, Mavis! You’re lookin right tasty tonight. Ow’s about we get together for old times sake, eh?”

She scowled at him. “Why would I want to waste me time on a pauper?”

“I ain’t a pauper, see?” Burt showed her the few coins he hadn’t spent on liquor.

“You still owes me that money from the other night,” said Mavis.

“Well I got it ere. See? Take it.” He held his hand out.

Mavis put down her rag and came over, showing her bountiful cleavage. Burt felt his crotch throb in anticipation. Mavis took the coins and scrutinized them. “Ahright. Aye. Get upstairs to me room and get ye togs off. This’ll cover it.”

Burt grinned. “I knew ye’d come round luv.” He stroked her arm, then not sure why he added, “You’re my girl.”

“Aye,” replied Mavis. “As long as you’re payin.”

10

Burt’s cock was like a thick iron rod when Mavis finally appeared.

The slutty girl slipped out of her dress without preamble and climbed onto the bed where he was already lying naked, his hairy muscular body on display.

“Ooo, this is what I wanted luv,” said Burt, rolling her over in his strong arms so he could pin her down and shove his tongue into her mouth.

It was so great to be a man – to take her like this as a woman.

He pawed her chest and nuzzled her neck then moved down to chew at her swollen nipple. Then Burt pulled up and pressed his big man’s penis into position to penetrate her. There was an acute buildup of anticipation then it slipped inside with a little jerk of resistance and a smile of satisfaction spread across his chops.

Mavis reached up to stroke the thick curly hair on his muscular chest and scratched his sides and back with her fingernails producing a delightful intensity of pleasure.

This was the last time he would have sex as a man and Burt wanted to enjoy it as fully as he could. This was what being a man was all about: having the power and strength to dominate a woman entirely, feel her softness against his hard muscular manly form. This was what he’d wanted from the start and he loved it.

He loved his massive cock! He loved his hairy muscular body! He loved ramming into this slutty girl over and over again!

And then the fantasy came again of Lady Ann except this time, when they went back into the holiday cottage to switch back when she returned the next day he took her and hurled her down then had his way with her there on the floor. At first her ladyship screamed in terror but when he forced her down and pressed his dick into her fanny, holding her in place, she started to swoon, saying, “Oh Burt. You’re such a strong man! You’re so masculine Burt! Oh, do it to me you beastly verile man!”

He felt the orgasm coming but he forced it away, pumping still into Mavis as he continued the fantasy of shagging Lady Ann in his mind.

Now she was standing and he was kneeling and her arm was outstretched, finger pointing. “You’re nothing to me Burt, you filthy peasant!” she was shouting. “You’re just an ignorant stupid yokel with no breeding – no use to man nor beast!”

“Yes m’lady. You’re right m’lady,” he was saying in the fantasy. “I’m just a worthless working man. I’m not quality. I’m nothing to a posh lady like yerself.”

And then he came, spurting semen up into Mavis’s fanny as the orgasm shock through him more intensely than any orgasm ever had.

And finally he collapsed on the bed beside Mavis, panting heavily, aching and sore, wishing it wasn’t over so soon, loving the afterglow and the seedy sordid thoughts he’d been having.

This had been a grand day – a great last day to enjoy being deliciously lower class – to enjoy being Burt.

But it was over now.

The following day he would be back in his rightful body and back at the manor house living the life of a cultured and privileged lady.