Recommended Reading: DNA

I'm up to 35,000 words on Criminal Record now and the new Sadie is sinking deeper and deeper into the seedy world she woke up into. I'm finding it alternately easy and difficult to write but it's chuntering juicily along. It's going to be much more of a roller coaster ride than the original, rather brief, story and there's only two weeks now to the release date!

I'm not convinced I'll make the deadline but I'm doing my best!

Meanwhile, he's a lovely little story to keep you busy that I just finished reading:

DNA

by Stephanie

on Fictionmania

It's the tale of a scientific experiment that gets rather horribly out of control as the well-meaning scientist responsible tries to set things right.

There's a nice shift in orientation of the principle changee and a build up to a pleasant bit of romance too (which I always think adds something good).

I was eager for the female to male change to come a bit sooner but when it did arrive it was nicely done.

And there's a sequel too!

Stephanie's been thinking about writing a Golden Gloom story too, so if she finishes it it'll be fascinating to see a different author's take on that mysterious device...

Recommended Reading: Make me Over

Well for today's recommendation I'm going to put forward:

Make Me Over

by Kelly 

on Fictionmania 

This is the tale of a young man who gets taught a lesson by the corpulent middle aged mother of the girl he has dumped. Needless to say, this lesson involves getting a taste of life from her perspective.

It isn't long and it's a good story. There's quite a... saucy device for causing the change and there's also some nice accent and personality changes. And the female character comes from the same area I was born and grew up in!

Crinminal Record's Coming Along

Just thought I'd let you know that the new extended version of Criminal Record is coming along nicely.

It's taking me longer than I thought it would though. I set out to aim at a 40,000 word length, hitting the bottom number to qualify as a novel. In fact, the plot and characters have come alive and it's looking like it might shoot past that.

For those who have read the original, I've taken the story as it stood and added a new beginning to establish the protagonist before the change occurs. Then I've tweaked things so it can carry on after the original ending without the police becoming directly involved too soon.

The story now carries on which leaves a lot more room for exploration of the seedy world the new Sadie has fallen into.

Meanwhile, I've added in an entirely new thread where we meet the other girl involved and follow what she gets up to before and after the swap. The reason I stayed away from her before was because I couldn't see a way to make that side of the story bite. Well the good news is that I have worked that out and her story is biting away as we speak.

I'll keep you updated but thank you for your patience. Normal service will be resumed soon and in the meantime I'll go on recommending favourite stories that you might not have discovered yet.

Recommended Reading: The Other Side of the Coin

I'm still tearing along on Criminal Record which is absorbing all my time, but to keep you going until that's released, here's another highly recommended story:

The Other Side of the Coin 

by (the great) Morpheus

at Fictionmania 

A man-eating vixen gets some poetic justice after she puts down one too many men for coming on to her.

The transformation is gradual and lovely with some nice creeping personality shifting too.It shows many of the hallmarks of my stories which is, I guess, why it appeals to me.

Morpheus is one of the greatest writers in this sub-genre and I've been enjoying his work for thirteen years. He may even be my joint favourite writer. I'll leave you to guess who my other favourite is...

Recommended Viewing: The Water in Majorca

Well I'm still working hard on producing the super extended version of Criminal Record as a novel-length work. In the meantime, here's an advert I used to love when I was a kid that strikes a note I suspect many of you will like...

Anyone remember this? I suspect it had a big hand in developing my interest in some of the changes that take place here.

Recommended Reading: The Wife

Okay, I screwed up there. I recommended the sequel before the first one.

Hopefully this is rectified now. And so for your reading pleasure, may I recommend the sequel to The Husband:

Altered Fates: The Wife

by Ellie Dauber

on Fictionmania

Now this one continues the story from The Husband and has a really nice female to male personality change in it.

It also has quite a romantic extended flirtation scene during which the changes are more fully cemented.

The payoff is good and it ties the loose ends from the first story up nicely.

Highly recommended!

Recommended Reading: The Husband

Now this story is particulerly good.

Altered Fates: The Husband

by Ellie Dauber

on Fictionmania. 

It's the story of a wealthy man who is tempted into trying out a body swap with his wife to experience something different in the bedroom. 

All seems to be going well until he finds out that this leaves him vulnerable to a bit of theft. 

It's got a touch of personality change and some accent change too and is also a nice gentle read. 

Very good indeeed.

To Come: Criminal Record

Well, there's going to be no Lady Ann for a few days because I'm working on... a greatly extended version of my old classic, Criminal Record.

Hopefully, if all goes well and I don't go adrift, I'll be publishing that on September 13th.

I have this week off so I'm making a big push to get somewhere with it and bite a big chunk out of the new outline.

Readers who remember the original story may be intrigued to learn that the new version will be expanded significantly. There's more detail before the story begins, a new scene in the middle of what you've seen already and then a slight retelling and new direction to what used to be the ending. The main character is going to get a lot more page-time as Sadie so that we can enjoy her fall and in addition, the oft-requested other side of the story is finally going to be told!

I'm anticipating the story ending up maybe four or five times as long as it once was so it should be a nice and juicy read.

Watch this space!

 

Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Twenty Nine - Part Eight

15

Richard carried Ann from the coach in his arms, up the steps and into Grandmamma’s house, the darkness and sanctity of it closing round them.

He carried her up to her bedroom and laid her on the bed then stepped back filled with concern as Gladys and Grandmamma set to work cleaning her up. A doctor was present and Richard withdrew to let them get to it.

Ann lay still and almost unresponsive as the doctor examined her and attended to her bruises. Her entire body was spent and she was cried out. She no longer had the energy to move her limbs or even turn her head. Her eyes didn’t so much as follow their movements as they worked to undo the awful things that had happened to her. 

Grandmamma stroked her head over and over again, whispering, “My poor little darling. My poor little darling.”

Ann felt safe at last, and warm; but she felt damaged, as though the things that had happened to her had broken her outer façade of peace and calm. She was so thankful to be back amongst people who cared for her who would protect her now from danger as best they could. But her confidence in that had been shaken rigid. She no longer felt as though she would ever truly be safe.

She had been with a bodyguard in the park when she was taken. He hadn’t defended her. She was never going to really be safe because she could not defend herself. Because she wasn’t a man.

It felt so good to have these people care for her and lie in this luxurious bed; to have a physician there to attend to her need, but she also knew that she had not needed these things when she’d been a man. She’d been tough and enduring. She’d had the hardened male will to protect her from the need for soft comforts. She had been strong in a way she never could be in this body.

And worst was the weakness of heart that had been exposed to her. Her cowardice and fright had left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. She didn’t feel safe anymore and felt like she never would again. Because she wasn’t a man.

She needed to be one again, to recapture that feeling of security she’d always possessed. She needed to get back to Griply as soon as possible.

She needed to swap back with Burt.

Let him be the weak-willed puny woman again. She didn’t want it anymore! She had to get out of this body now!

16

There was total quiet in Griply village square.

The echos of the whip slashing across Burt’s back had died away and no one moved or made a sound. The crowds gaped vacantly between Burt and the Earl. What had started as a jolly spectacle had become a very serious reminder of the precariousness of all their positions and then had become something even worse.

Fifty lashes.

The casual brutality of it was staggering and now as the Earl stepped away from Burt’s crumpled form, swaggering round in a semi circle to proudly look at his subjects, even he caught the reflection in their faces of how far he’d gone; even he looked back at the crisscrossing wounds all over Burt’s back and understood the depth of it.

The Countess had turned away and Hattie was weeping against her breast, her mother pressing her close.

The Earl looked from his family to the house servants, to the men and women of Griply, his resolve faltering slightly. Then he looked at Burt.

Burt hung by his arms and the shackles from the stock post but his body and head sagged as though he were dead. He had cried out and moaned as the first cracks of the whip fell until it became only irresolvable pain striking over and over with no time to respond and no energy left to do it anyway. His mind was a blank welter of agony.

The Earl glared at him and then at his subjects again, at the sullen eyes staring back at him that turned instantly away in fear when he caught them. He opened his mouth to cry out a warning to any others who might cross him but no sound issued. He closed his lips again, the words unsaid.

Mavis pushed through from the back of the crowd, a damp cloth in her hand. She wavered, looking at the Earl. He did not respond, merely looked back at her. She hurried across to Burt, headless of any danger to herself. The Earl watched her movements but said nothing; did nothing.

Crouching beside Burt, Mavis tenderly dabbed at his wounds, rousing him slightly with each wince of pain.

The Countess took Hattie back to the coach without a glance at her husband. Needing no instruction, old Harry climbed into the driver’s seat and clipped the reins, turning the coach round in the road and setting off back toward the hall.

The Earl watched it depart, saw again the sullen looks of disapproval in the peasants watching him, then raised his voice loud, spitting out his words angrily. “This man entered my home without permission! He violated my daughter’s bed chamber! He deserved the punishment he got here today!”

No sound. No reaction from the crowd.

“By my right as land owner of Griply valley, I have taken my punishment of him!”

In the dead silence he marched across to Burt, pushing Mavis out of the way and back onto her behind. Burt’s eyes flashed open as the Earl grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head back. He could barely keep his thoughts coherent they were so blinded by pain but he felt the Earls’ hand on his head, he saw his blazing eyes and heard the harsh whisper.

“Have you learned your lesson my lad?”

Burt nodded; no thought now in his mind except capitulating fully to his employer. All conception that he was Lady Ann was gone. There was only the pain and the Earl.

“Yes sir,” he muttered. “Please sir, yes. I’ll never do it again. I swear to you. Please sir. Please. I’ll do anything you say. Anything sir, please.”

The Earl got to his feet and looked round at the assembled crowd, slightly more alarmed now by the distaste he saw in their eyes at his right of punishment. He had never seen such looks on his subjects faces before and he didn’t like it. It was a sign of the changing times perhaps but he wasn’t about to let his control slip one inch.

They needed a stronger show of exactly what he was capable of if they went against him.

“This thief is unrepentant,” he cried. He walked in a circle, glaring at them. “He thought he could take things that were mine; could shirk his duty when he was supposed to be working.”

The Earl pointed at Burt’s hanging form.

“He clearly needs a further lesson!”

There were gasps and chatter from the assembled villagers.

“Jailer!” cried the Earl, singling the man out of the crowd. “Take this man and lock him up. Now!”

The jailer emerged from the crowd. He was an ageing, haggard old man with a sneering face. “M’lord?”

The Earl unlocked Burt’s shackles. “Take him away. He’s nothing but a criminal and by God I will treat him as such!”

Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Twenty Nine - Part Seven

13

The Earl pushed Burt out of the manor’s front door and he stumbled down the front steps.

The Countess and Hattie followed them out along with all the indoor servants. Burt looked form one of them to the next, his eyes moist. Every face was blank with indifference or scorn or mirth. It was humiliating. They were all there. They were all going to witness his punishment.

“Powell!” cried the Earl. “Where are those shackles!?”

The butler emerged last at a slow jog and hurried to his master’s side. “Here they are sir.” He had a pair of iron shackle cuffs on a chain in one hand and the Earl’s bullwhip in the other.

“Put them on him,” said the Earl imperiously, with no clue of course that it was really his daughter he was ordering be locked up.

I’m not his daughter anymore, thought Burt morosely. I’m just a servant. He can do anything that he wants to me now. Anything.

Powell approached Burt and snapped, “Hold out your hands!”

Burt did so. What else could he do? He’d done his best to resist when he’d been locked in the stocks. It had gotten him nowhere. He had no illusions now about his lack of power and control. He held out his wrists morosely and Powell attached the first cuff, tightening it a notch too far so that it cut into Burt’s skin.

Burt looked across at Hattie near the doorway. Her expression was riddled with mischief, close to open laughter. Beside her, the Countess looked down her nose at the scene as the second shackle was locked into place.

Burt had thought his life was at its lowest point when he’d realized how trapped he was in this retainer’s life but it had descended even further. He was a criminal now. He had lost even the meager blessings he had had.

Harry appeared, walking up the drive, looking what the commotion was about. He saw the position Burt was in and shook his head sadly. “Oh Burt, ye stupid idiot. What have you gone and done now?”

“You!” cried the Earl to Harry. “Fetch me my horse! Then ready the coach! This blackguard is going to get his just deserts; but not here. Down in the village.”

Burt blanched.

“I shall ride down with this miserable cur walking behind me.” He addressed the Countess. “My dear… and Hattie. I would be grateful if you could follow down in the coach. The rest of you…” He turned to the servants. “I want everyone there. Close up the house and follow down. Is that clear?” There were nods all round.

Burt looked about him feeling increasingly desperate. He kept seeing himself as a woman, reaching down for the pendant from the waters of the stream, thinking he’d found an exciting way to avoid a boring trip to his nan’s house.

Oh, how stupid he had been to risk all the luxuries of his former life over such a trivial thing! And now, surely, he was paying the price for that many times over! Why couldn’t he have just stayed in his old life? Why couldn’t he have appreciated what he had?

Then another darker thought stole into his mind but one that was just as true.

Why couldn’t he have just been happy with his life as Burt? Why hadn’t he just accepted that he was nothing but a labourer now? It was that that had really betrayed him. He knew he was Burt now through and through. Why had he clung onto a hopeless dream that he could ever be anything more? Why couldn’t he have just been happy with his lot in life as a lowborn working-class man?

Harry hurried back up the drive with the Earl’s house in tow. The Earl went to meet him, pulling on the rope that Powell had tied to the shackle chain.

He climbed up onto his horse while Harry steadied it then jerked on the rope, yanking Burt forward. Powell handed him the bullwhip in a tight coil. The Earl hung it off the saddle and then snapped the rein of his horse, pulling away.

Burt was jerked after it, shambling in the wake of the horse, led by his shackles as the family and servants looked on.

He had thought his life as a servant had been humiliating; that being the village idiot had been. He’d thought being locked in the stocks had crowned it all. But he hadn’t known what was to come.

The humiliation hadn’t ended. It was only just beginning.

And it was going to get far far worse before it got any better!

14

The walk down to the village was awful.

The Earl’s horse went just a little faster than walking pace but too slow to run, and as a result, Burt would walk for a little before receiving a sharp jerk of his shackles and having to run to catch up, followed by the slower pace and followed by the jerk.

The Earl didn’t even look at him but Burt could tell he was fuming. Half way down to the village the coach pulled up behind them and followed, manned by Harry. The look Harry gave him was heart-breaking. The old man had been so hard on him since he’d become Burt, and the Burt memories stretched back with more of the same, but now he only had pity there and sorrow in his eyes. It should have made Burt feel better knowing that Harry cared after all but instead it made him feel far far worse.

Burt looked back at the Earl.

“Please sir,” he said. “Please let me go free. I’m sorry I went up there sir, I really am. Please sir, I’ll do anything; just don’t punish me no more. I’m sorry.”

The Earl didn’t even react. He kept his face forward, his chin raised. Another sharp jerk on the shackles pulled Burt painfully forward, making it perfectly clear the limitations of his situation instead.  

When they reached the village, people on the street saw Burt being led by the wrists and he immediately felt a swelling of the shame and embarrassment of his situation. He saw the whispers and the sneers, the laughter and the open jeering but he could do nothing about it.

All he could think about was how he wished he’d never remembered who he really was. When he had forgotten and really thought he’d always been Burt he’d found a kind of happiness. He was well-regarded for his triumph at the boxing match. He’d won back Mavis. He’d settled into a routine of sorts living out the destiny he’d taken on.

He wished he’d just stayed that way for the rest of his days – been happy as a brainless pauper. Why had he let himself push for more than that? It was going against nature. This life was his now as though it always had been. He wished he’d fully accepted it while there had still been time.

But now it was too late.

He was led into the square. A crowd of gawpers was gathering outside the Dog & Pony, whispering and chuckling at his expense. The fair was half dismantled now but what gypsies still remained stopped working on the clear-up and watched him. A beautiful gypsy girl with long dark curly hair pointed at his mournful face and laughed with her companion. He lowered his gaze, wishing he could somehow get out of this but he was resigned to his fate now.

The Earl climbed down from his horse and dragged Burt to the stocks – not to lock him into them this time: nothing so pleasant. He unshackled one of Burt’s wrists and fixed his glare on him.

“Off with your shirt!”

“Sir?”

“Take your shirt off now you miserable cur!”

Burt did as he was told. The Earl ran the chain and empty shackle out through one sleeve of the shirt and dumped the garment on the floor. He looped the shackle chain through the right arm hole on the stocks then attached the loose cuff to Burt’s sore wrist once more. With his boot and hand, he forced Burt down onto his knees so that his arms were raised in front of him, his back to the villagers.

The coach had long since pulled up. Hattie, the countess and even old Harry had dismounted. The servants from the hall were approaching. A circle of crowd closed around the proceedings.

There had been no announcement of what was going on but people could sense it. And the Earl wanted an audience. Burt craned his neck to look back into the people and saw Mavis push to the front. She looked into his eyes and he saw the same pitiful compassion that Harry had shown. The chuckles in the crowd had died away. This wasn’t a laughing matter now. It was solemn if anything. Everyone knew what was coming. The tension was creaking higher and higher; the shuffling expectancy.

Burt mumbled some prayers, begging for aid and succor in what was to come but only the cold wind answered him, touching his sweat-cooled skin and drawing all heat out of it.

“Take a look at this man!” called the Earl, satisfied that he had his audience now. “Look at him!”

He paused. There was total silence. Even Hattie’s hateful mirth was gone from her features.

“He is a thief! And he will be punished as a thief!”

Burt hung his head. He knew there was nothing he could say to persuade them that he hadn’t been trying to take anything that wasn’t already his – that he was really the Earl’s daughter in disguise. His punishment might even be worse if he spoke out now – especially with such ridiculous notions.

“My anger knows no bounds to a pathetic creature such as this,” cried the Earl. “I have taken him into my employ, given him work that a man could be proud of; a man’s wage. But this was not good enough for him! He wanted more and so he tried to take it from his betters!”

The Earl shook his head slowly.

“Nobody steals from me. Nobody! And this man needs to be taught a lesson. You all need to ne taught a lesson of what will happen to anyone who dares to cross me!”

He walked to his horse and took down the bullwhip, unraveling it.

Burt started to whimper.

He was Lady Ann, not Burt. He was Lady Ann, not Burt. This shouldn’t be happening to him.

It shouldn’t be happening!

The Earl cracked the whip hard against the ground to make a nasty snapping sound. Burt flinched though it had yet to touch him. He caught Mavis’s eye again. There were tears on her cheeks.

“Do you have anything to say man?” called the Earl, moving closer to Burt.

Burt shook his head. “Please  sir, don’t do this. Please, I’ll do anything. I’m sorry. Please sir. I won’t do nothing like it ever again. Please don’t hurt me, I’m begging you.”

The Earl shook his hand forward, cracking the whip and it lashed up Burt’s back, breaking his skin.

He gave a yelp of pain and alarm.

“Please sir. Let me go. Please sir. I’ll never steal again sir. I’m sorry.”

CRACK! The whip lashed him once more leaving a nasty red mark.

Burt’s eyes were watering. He was remembering a picture from his childhood as Ann when the Earl had lifted him up into his arms, laughing.

CRACK!

Burt chewed his lip, lowering his head.

CRACK!

The whip fell again and again.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

The Earl said nothing. Nor did the crowd. The only noise were the tiny sounds that Burt made in his throat with each strike; yelps of pain; and the snap of the whip as it flayed his back.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

His back was a crisscross of open slits already but the Earl didn’t stop.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

Burt sank down as low as he could, only the shackles keeping his head up.

His face was wet with tears of agony. His back was pure white pain.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

This wasn’t meant to be happening to him. He was supposed to be a lady. He was meant to be one of the quality.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

But he wasn’t anymore.

He was one of the dirty peasants now and he couldn’t expect any better than this for his crimes.

He was entirely in the Earl’s power.

Thank you!

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has ordered my book, Lynch Heinouson, so far!

Sales are going really well so people must be thinking it's good. I've had loads of good feedback about how funny it is and stuff so I'm really happy.

I think it's made a difference now that there is the option to have it as a real book as well as an e-book.

I'd love to hear what people think via email or on a comment below. 

And while I'm on the subject, you may be excited to learn that I'm going to be publishing the first of my transformation stories in the same way in less than a month (if all goes to plan).

I won't tell you which one it will be yet. That would be too easy!

You're allowed to guess though... 

Lady Ann's Holday: Chapter Twenty Nine - Part Six

11

Burt stared at Lady Harriet, wishing with all his soul that he cold wind back the last five minutes of his life; or better: the last few weeks.

He had grown up as the beautiful and cultured Lady Anne Neville, first daughter of the Earl, and lavished with every possible luxury. He had been waited on by numerous servants, treated like royalty, allowed every benefit of his upper class status and upbringing.

But not anymore.

Now he was stuck in the body of a low-born man; an illiterate commoner with no wealth or standing; no brains or breeding. And he had been caught inside the manor – a sacred environment that those of his station was forbidden to enter.

And he had been caught red-handed in the act of theft.  He had been caught rifling through the dresses and undergarments of the very person he used to be. By his former baby sister no less!

But that didn’t matter anymore. His former affiliation by blood to this family no longer existed. They were only his employers. He was their servant.

Burt had been in run-ins with the Earl before but never like this and never before had he so deeply understood in advance the precariousness of his position.

When he’d been thrown in the stocks it had been a horrible occurrence but he had still believed himself to be Lady Ann stuck in a temporary and annoying fix. Such wasn’t the case anymore. He knew now that the new Lady Ann had no intention of ever swapping back and he knew that the magical effect had passed completely. He was no longer Lady Ann trapped in Burt’s body. He really was Burt. From the family’s perception he was nothing more than a servant who’d been caught thieving. And the repercussions of that fell on him alone.

This wasn’t a life he was borrowing anymore; it really was his life. The punishment meted out to him today would determine what path his life would take for the rest of his days.

He was Burt now and he would still be Burt a year hence; ten years hence. He was going to be Burt Harper until the day he died: a withered old broken down man.

The next moments would determine if he would spend those years free or imprisoned; whether he’d be discharged with no reference, lucky to get work down a coal mine or whether he’d be beaten to within an inch of his life.

With Hattie’s call for her father to come, all control had left him. It was to the whims of the quality alone that his fate was cast now, and there was nothing he could do to prevent that.

Hattie looked him in the eyes again then called out once more. “Father! Come here quickly! I’ve caught a thief!”

12

The thunderous footsteps of the Earl tromped down the landing and Burt withdrew further into the room, overcome with alarm.

He wanted to say something or take some action – anything to deter the imminence of his punishment – but what could he do? He’d even lost possession of the pendant now. He might have accepted trading lives with the powerful Earl – even though he was a lot older; at least he was a man – but that opportunity was gone.

The door swung open and the tall Earl filled the doorway. He looked from Hattie’s imperious expression to Burt’s and then his metallic eyes glistened, his frown closing around them.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

Burt opened his mouth to speak.

“Harriet? What the devil’s going on here? What is this gutter trash doing in Ann’s bedroom?”

Hattie’s features were almost playful but it was the spiteful play of a child torturing insects to death. “I caught him in here, going through Ann’s things, touching her undergarments.”

Burt’s head shook slightly but what could he say? That was what he had been doing!

“He’d forced open her dresser drawer. Look.” She pointed. “He had some of her jewelry. I caught him red-handed stealing it.”

“But sir—” began Burt.

“Silence!” snapped the Earl. “You impudent cur! You’ll keep your mouth shut!”

He walked across to the dresser and pulled open the drawer then closed it, examining the damage. He surveyed the open drawers and ruffled clothes.

“It’s common knowledge he is infatuated with Ann,” said Hattie. Burt stared at her, wishing she would stop talking. She was only making it worse for him. If only he could tell her who he really was. If only he could tell them both! But they would never believe him without Lady Ann to corroborate it and he already knew that she wouldn’t.

The earl looked at her. “Is that right?”

“Yes. He’s always hanging around staring at her like a lovesick puppy.” She looked Burt in the eye. “And he propositioned me a fortnight ago.”

“What?”

Burt just went on gaping. It was going from bad to worse! Why couldn’t Hattie shut up!?

“I was out walking up at Griply Mount and he sidled up to me in the dark and started making suggestive comments. I was afraid he was going to force himself on me but I saw him off right enough. I should have told you about that then – had him dismissed. Or flogged.”

Blood was creeping up the Earl’s neck to his face as he turned slowly in Burt’s direction. Burt’s head was shaking back and forth. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. His life was falling down about his ears! His life – not her ladyships! This was his life now – well and truly – and it was rapidly becoming a nightmare!

“Well boy?” snapped the Earl. “What have you got to say for yourself?”

Burt swallowed but when he tried to talk his voice was quivering so much his words became a garble. He cleared his throat and tried again but only a mumble came out.

“Speak up man!”

He cleared his throat again.

“I’m sorry m’lord,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean nowt wrong. I was just lookin for a pendant o mine wot er ladyship borrowed.”

“Don’t try to lie your way out of it, you filthy blackguard!”

“I’m not sir. I swear.”

 “How dare you talk back to me!” The Earl grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, pulling him forward off balance. “Come here! “Trying to make out that I’m a liar indeed! The least you could do is have enough breeding to admit you’ve done wrong!”

“I’m sorry sir,” whimpered Burt as the Earl twisted him round and shoved him out into the corridor. “I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

“Keep your trap shut! I don’t want to hear any more excuses or whining. Be a man and accept that you’ve been caught at least, for God’s sake!” Burt was shoved again between his shoulders making him stumble forward. “Go on!” cried the Earl. “Hurry up!”

He got to the main landing and fell against the railing that ran around above the hall then span round in anguish and fear to look at the Earl advancing towards him. The older man’s face was set into a mask of determination. Behind him, coming along, Hattie’s features were full of excitement and mischief. This was nothing but a game to her! Didn’t she realize that his entire future was at risk?

The Earl emerged from the corridor then snarled as he grabbed a handful of Burt’s shirt at the shoulder again, pulling him around and hurling him forward. Burt lost his footing and went down, slamming into the carpet and burning his palms. He cracked his head on the floor nastily and lifted it unsteadily, slightly stunned.

“Powell!” cried the Earl to the butler. “Find the shackles and bring them out to the front! We have ourselves a thief!”

Faces were appearing in doorways and in the hallway below. The indoor servants had come to see what the ruckus was about and then the Countess emerged from the drawing room. Burt locked eyes with his former mother; the woman who had always doted on him in his former life; and saw the expression become one of disdain and repulsion.

Somehow that was the worst thing that had happened to him so far: that condemnation from the woman who had given birth to him.

Then he heard something that shook him even more, that frightened him right down to his bones.

“And Powell!” called the Earl. “Bring out my whip! I take a very dim view on theft of my property; a very dim view. This abominable cur is going to learn a lesson and serve as an example to anyone else who thinks they have a right to violate my property and threaten my daughter!”

No! This couldn’t be happening! It just couldn’t! Why didn’t they realize he was supposed to be Lady Ann!? How could it have come to this!?

He wasn’t meant to be stuck like this!

He wasn’t meant to be Burt!

Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Twenty Nine - Part Five

9

Hattie said and did nothing immediately.

Both Burt and she were once again frozen, just as they’d been when he stumbled into her bedroom a few minutes earlier. But his actions here were painfully obvious. There was no room for misunderstanding.

He had entered the manor house against all instruction, and worse, he had violated the bed chamber of not one but two of the Earl’s daughters. And he was plainly a thief. The pendant was right there in his hand. The lock on its hiding place was broken.

“Please m’lady,” stammered Burt. “I know what this looks like but that ain’t wot it is. Just give me a minute to explain.”

Hattie said nothing. Her features registered still only shock.

For his part, Burt was still well and truly off balance. As never before he felt trapped in this man’s flesh – no longer by some continuing magical effect but simply by the physical reality of it. Touching the pendant again had sealed the effect, closing him indelibly into that identity.

“I know I shouldn’t ave come in ere,” said Burt, his words spitting out rapidly, “but I ad to fetch something o’mine. This ere pendant, see?” He held it up. “It’s mine ye see – you can ask er ladyship erself – and I needed it.”

“So you decided to just wander up here and get it?” said Hattie coldly.

Burt bobbed his head, only belatedly thinking to pull of his cap, recognizing the deference to this woman that used to be his younger sister.

“And to find it you riffled through my sister’s clothes?”

Burt bobbed his head again.

“Through her undergarments?”

Burt did nothing. His face and neck turning a deep and dirty red.

“And then you decided to break open her dressing table drawer. Is that correct? You thought you could just take what you wanted?”

Burt nodded pitifully. “Please miss. I ad to get it. It was an emergency.”

“An emergency?”

“Aye. I ad to ave it right away. I’m sorry miss. I know it was wrong o me, but I’ve learned me lesson; I swear I ave. I just needed to get it. Please don’t tell the Earl you saw me in ere. He’ll punish me something chronic for this. I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up in prison. And I didn’t mean no arm. I swear I didn’t.”

Lady Harriet’s face closed over, any expression vanishing to become just blank introspection.

Everything that had happened and it came to this: trapped in the body and brain of a dirty commoner, completely at the mercy of what had once been his younger sister.

“Please m’lady,” he said. “What you decide’ll affect the rest o’me life. I ain’t never done wrong by ye. Please let me go back outside. I’m sorry I came in ere; I really am.”

“’Never done wrong’ by me?” said Hattie. “’Never done wrong’?” She scoffed at him and Burt’s face fell. “You filthy little man. How dare you!” She thrust out her hand, palm up. “Give me that pendant. Now!”

Burt looked down at it, then up at Hattie. She wasn’t going to help him. She wouldn’t let him escape. She was going to see to it that he was punished. This was his last and only chance to keep hold of the pendant.

But he had been in this situation before – the pendant in reach and an order from one of his betters to hand it over. He knew he couldn’t keep hold of it. He knew what his orders were.

But there was another option here; surely the only real option he had.

Put on the pendant. Embrace Lady Harriet. Swap places with her!

All his problems would instantly go away!

“Give it me!” she snapped, pushing her hand further forward.

Burt stared at the open palm then down at the pendant. It would be so simple. So quick. He could be Lady Harriet; become one of the gentry again, even if it wasn’t his original body.

“You will do as I tell you. Hand – me – the pendant!”

It was so simple to conceive of but how could he do it? He was being given a direct order from one of his betters – the lady Harriet no less. He had to do what he was told.

“Give it to me!”

He looked into her face, at her pretty eyes and dewy cheeks. He looked at her curvaceous body and beautiful dress. That could be him. In a matter of moments he could change places with her.

But that sent a shudder of repulsion through him. It didn’t matter that he knew who he used to be. He wasn’t a woman no more. He was a man. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing his manhood and becoming a soft and soppy woman. He wasn’t some sissy. Being a woman was the last thing he wanted. He’d rather go to prison than that.”

“Burt!”

He wrapped up the pendant in its cloth and hesitating only a second longer he passed it to her.

Hattie took it and held his gaze for a moment then walked across to the dresser and closed the pendant and its bundle back in the top drawer out of sight.

Burt waited, clutching his cap tightly in his fingertips, fumbling with it nervously as she passed back into his field of view. He felt abashed and utterly humiliated, and worse, he recognized the chain of events his foolishness had thrown him into, leaving him incapable of seizing a way out, even when one presented itself.

“I’m so sorry miss,” he fawned. “Please don’t tell the Earl wot I done. I’ll do anything you say. I’m beggin ye. Please don’t turn me in.”

Hattie looked at him blankly. Then she gave him a slow sneer. She walked to the door, widened the gap and called out, “Father!” 

10

The tall man, Blake’s face made a grimace as he ripped at Ann’s dress again, tearing the entire front open and revealing her bosom and stomach completely, jerking another stifled cry from her gagged mouth. The grimace became a leer as his eyes slithered across her naked torso and legs.

The dress was a ruin now, covering only her pelvis with any success, tears of it ribboning into the crooks of her elbows and caught in the rope tying her wrists.

She wanted more than anything to be able to fight her way free but she had inherited more than just the wiles, looks and breeding of the original Lady Ann. She also had her cowardice and dismay at violence of any kind. She felt completely under the power of this brute of a man and his jeering audience in the doorway.

Never since this entire debacle had begun had she been more determined to return to her former body and life, and she made a vow, as the tears burned her cheeks and scorched her eyes, that the second she had the ability to accomplish it, she would change back into a man.

“You’re mine you know,” whispered Blake. “And you shouldn’t worry none.” He lowered his upper body closer to her. “I ain’t like those apes out there. I’m a gentleman, me. I know ow to treat a lady.”

He gave a deep chuckle then took hold of Ann’s face, bringing his lips to hers.

She winced, trying to pull away, but there was no strength in her to combat his. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

Blake put his lips to Ann’s, pressing close. Her cheeks were rigid. Her mouth was locked. Surely there could be no pleasure of intimate contact for him. But as he broke contact she glimpsed the swollen fold of cloth in his dirty trousers and knew what it meant. Then Blake lowered his face to her breast, thankfully blocking the view.

He gave her one little glance and a smile, almost playful, then he opened his lips to take her nipple in his mouth.

A man’s call came from out in the warehouse. Blake faltered. There was a deep bang far away. Then a crash.

Blake lifted his head. The men in the doorway had turned their backs. Two men out of sight were calling.

“See what’s going on,” barked Blake.

More shouting. A whistle, long an shrill. A second whistle even closer.

The men in the doorway were shouting. They vanished, running in different directions. Blake hadn’t moved. His entire body was tense. He looked down into Ann’s face, his expression muddled.

Ann heard the word “Police!” shouted by more than one male voice.

Blake pulled a knife out of his pocket.

The shouting got closer.

Blake’s hand rooted through the hair at the base of Ann’s neck, taking hold tightly, snapping her head painfully back.

The shouting was even louder; even closer.

The knife caught what light there was like a sliver of solid light.

Then a policeman appeared in the doorway. He assessed the situation and demanded Blake step back.

Blake was wrenching on Ann, pulling her upwards, holding the blade to her neck.

The policeman’s hand was out. Both men were bellowing. Their words didn’t make sense.

Then the policeman was knocked out of the way by a strong man’s hands and Richard strode into the room.

Blake was demanding something, pressing the knife up under Ann’s chin. She was weeping in terror and anguish.

Richard said nothing. He took in the room calmly, seeing Ann, seeing Blake, seeing the knife. Then he raised him arm, leveled his pistol and pulled the trigger.

Blake fell backward. The knife toppled clear. His head hit the floor.

And then Richard was at Ann’s side, lifting her gently up, pulling the gag free, pressing her against his chest and enfolding her in his arms. “It’s alright darling,” he said. “You’re safe now. I promise. These men can’t do anything for you now.”

The policeman untied her wrists and she flung her arms about her fiancé, tugging him even closer. “Oh Richard,” she gasped. “Oh my darling Richard. Thank you! Oh thank God for you! Thank God for my wonderful wonderful man!”