Cleaner: Chapter Two - Part Two

Sweet City was the kind of shop I never went in.

Being a model wasn’t something that just happened. A long-standing career as a model wasn’t something you fell into. It required vigilance and discipline; the studious avoidance of sugary temptation.

Sweet City was the anathema to that. It was a hall of temptation and decadence. Every single item in store was something forbidden. It was almost like it was filled with the fruits of the Devil: damnation disguised as desire. All my life I had lived in a desert-like place where chocolate and sweets were frowned upon to say the least. Now I was standing in this oasis with no one around to frown at me, my mouth started salivating and my eyes went round.

I shouldn’t be in here, I thought. I certainly shouldn’t buy anything.

But I moved to the shelves along the wall and started walking along, looking at the candy walking sticks and penny sweets, the chocolate bars and liquorice.

I thought of my mum’s old saying again but that made my mouth water all the more, remembering the dress in my bag. But despite that I did manage to restrain myself. I wanted to pick up one of the big paper bags they had for gathering bountiful supplies. Instead, I deliberated for a long time and limited myself to one chocolate bar. That was better. I wasn’t going wild. A Mars. They had king size, fun size and normal. I knew I should get the fun size one, if that, but told myself the normal one would be fine.

I started toward the till and spotted the drinks fridge. I was thirsty. I deliberated for a while then picked up a Diet Coke. I did need to be careful. A fantasy was one thing but I didn’t want to actually put on weight.

I walked up to the till and smiled at the girl standing there, then I walked back to the shelf and swapped my normal Mars for the king size one and traded my Diet Coke for the real thing.

I paid quickly, before I could change my mind again, then went out into the mall.

Out there I felt a mix of regret, disappointment in myself and anticipation.

I unwrapped the Mars and started chomping, working my way down it quickly, really enjoying the flavour that graced my tongue. Between bites I swilled my mouth with the Coke. It was ice cold and really fizzy and that first swallow was sublime. It tasted better that it was forbidden fruit.

I polished off the Mars bar quickly and emptied the Coke bottle, dropping the litter in the closest bin on my way back toward the car park. When they were gone I felt a bit down, wanting more but knowing I shouldn’t have even had that.

I was sick of feeling bad about it already. It wasn’t in my nature to question myself and I seemed to be doing it all the time today. I willed myself to stop beating myself up over it. One splurge wasn’t going to turn me into a fat woman.

Putting it out of my mind I just walked to the edge of the mall, feeling a little peckish now that my stomach had woken up.

There was a donut shop at the end of the row before the car park entrance. I stopped and eyed the display. They had a spectacular range of plain and iced donuts with all kinds of different centres. I hadn’t eaten a donut for years. My dad used to buy them for me and my brother when I was a little girl.

They did look delicious.

Shaking my head, I went on walking, but stopped ten yards on and looked back.

I hadn’t had one in eighteen years. And they had such a good range there.

I shrugged to myself then I started walking back the way I'd come toward the door.

Criminal Record - Expanded Edition

We have some new visitors to the site lately so I thought now might be a good time to shine a spotlight on my bodyswap novel, Criminal Record. 

It's available on Amazon, Kobo, iBooks, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords for a bargain price. 

For those who found me first on Fictionmania, you may have already read the shoprt story that Criminal Record was based on. That came out about twenty years ago and was one of my stories that many people asked me to expand. 

So I did. Now Criminal Record is a complete novel. 

It's a female to female bodyswap story that focuses on class change with some nice voice change thrown in, some personality change and a pretty thrilling climax. 

This is what it says on the back of the book: 



"COMPULSIVE READING"
Holly Thorpe has it all – a handsome boyfriend, a place waiting for her at Cambridge University, and wealthy parents who love her dearly – but something isn’t quite right and she doesn’t know what that is.
Sadie Wilson is everything that Holly isn’t. She’s loud and brash, bawdy and morally bankrupt. She has no future and no money, and only a life of vice and sin waiting for her.
But when Holly and Sadie inexplicably swap places, they are each of them hurled into a life they could never have expected.
The well-spoken and chaste Holly finds herself falling into Sadie’s dark and sordid world, with no inhibitions suddenly to hold her back.
And Sadie is now Holly- a dyed-in-the-wool criminal in a land of sports cars and manor houses who suddenly has great wealth within her reach.
As both girls find themselves drawn into their new roles, they must each ultimately make a choice.
Will they fight and struggle to achieve their dreams?
Or let their darkest fantasies seduce them?
"YOU COULD DO NO BETTER"
"WONDERFULLY EROTIC"

Lady Ann's Folly: Chapter Four - Part One

To Be A Lady 

Some time earlier, Hattie left Griply Hall at the rear and took the path between the bushes that led toward the holiday cottage.

Her curiosity was greatly aroused, simply because she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why her sister would want a private meeting with that awful loose woman from the village. Hattie had known of the girl all her life – they weren’t too dissimilar in ages – but had always looked down on her. She was altogether too full of herself for one of the working class and it made Hattie feel uncomfortable to look at the endowments of the girl. She herself was slightly more rounded than her sister but neither one of them could have been described as voluptuous.

She crossed the wider path that led from the stables to the fields and saw the holiday cottage ahead, the trees crowding round. It was really starting to go to seed but she didn’t care.

There was no sign of anyone visible in the windows. Perhaps Ann and the girl had already gone on elsewhere. She shrugged and tried the door. It opened but caught immediately. It had swollen in the winter rain and didn’t sit properly on its hinges anymore. Putting her weight into it, Hattie pulled as hard as she could to swing it open. There was silence in the hallway; dust in the air. She almost turned and walked away. But she heard a shifting in the front room. She walked inside to investigate.

The sight that greeted her within was unbelievable. Her sister was tied up in one of the chairs!

They stared at one another for a moment then Hattie stepped forward to untie her. She stopped almost immediately as she saw the pile of money on the table.

“Whatever’s going on Ann?” she asked.

“Nowt,” replied her sister. “Leave me be.”

Hattie frowned. “Who tied you up like this?”

“It don’t matter. Get thee gone. I’m busy.”

Hattie picked up the money. “What’s this for?”

“Ere, leave that. It don’t belong to you!”    

“Ann; why ever are you talking with that ridiculous accent?” asked Hattie, crossing her arms. “What’s going on in here? Did that barmaid do this to you?”

Ann’s face twisted in confusion and then straightened and she said. “Aye. That’s right. I asked ‘er to. I’ll explain it all later. For now just leave me be, ahright?”

Hattie turned away. Then she looked back at her sister and said, “I don’t understand this game. It’s foolish.”

“Aye. Well alright. Please yerself. Just get thee gone.”

Hattie paused for a moment, then almost angrily, she said, “What is going on Ann. Tell me.”

Ann glared back at her stonily.

“Are you... Your accent. Is it something to do with that? You’ve always been terrible at imitating the way the peasants talk, no matter how good you thought you were. Has the barmaid been, what, coaching you?”

Ann said nothing. Then in an odd parody of her normal voice said, “Please be a dear luv and let me be. I am quite happy here for the moment.”

And it was that odd aped inflexion that did it: flicking a switch of instinct in Hattie’s bosom that threw a thought into her mind so startling she actually let out a gasp.

She knew that thought couldn’t be true – it went against all sense – but it came to her tongue regardless before common sense could stop it.

“You aren’t Ann, are you?”

She had meant it in jest really. That had been the crack that allowed her to say it; but the reaction on her sister’s face stunned her utterly. Because Hattie had always been intuitive, and she recognised that shift in expression as both shock and guilt.

Impossibly, she had hit the nail on the head and again she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Good Lord. It’s true!”

“No. It ain’t,” she said. “I’m Ann.”

But those words only bore it home, confirming to Hattie the absolute truth of what she was witnessing.

“But how?” She looked at the money again, then out the front window. “Good grief! The barmaid! That’s...” She pointed. “She... And you. She and you...” She covered her forehead with her palm. Then she grinned in wonder. Then she narrowed her eyes in consternation. Finally she looked very plainly at the woman before her and said, “How was it done.”

This false Ann started to deny it one more time but Hattie immediately cut her off.

“Don’t lie to me. I know it’s true now. Tell me how it was done.” The same imperious tone that had persuaded the former Mavis to allow herself to be tied, prompted a loosening of her lips but she remained reluctant.

“Speak girl,” said Hattie.

“It was a pendant,” said this Ann. “A magic pendant.”

Hattie squinted, her mind trundling. “How?”

“When two people touch. Both touch it at once.”

“And she has it?”

“Yes.”

Hattie pictured her sister in the body of this slutty barkeep’s daughter and giggled. It was unbelievable but she still knew it was so. She just knew it!

It was hilarious!

She could only imagine what Ann would want with the body of that saucy girl, but she had a vague idea. She knew the pinch of propriety as much as the next society girl.

“So... she was going to pay you... for the loan of your body. And she left you here while she was away.”

The faux Ann nodded sullenly. “I’m still going to get me money, aren’t I?”

Hattie giggle. “Oh  my dear...” She giggled again, covering her mouth with two sets of curled fingers. “If you do as you’re told I can promise you far more than that!”

Catching Up?

This site has been going for a year and a half now and in that time we've seen hundreds of pages worth of stories flowing out onto the net. 

New readers are finding the site every day and I thought it might be worth pausing for a moment to look at the best way for you to catch up with what's going on. 

Our two serials at the moment are Lady Ann's Folly and Cleaner. 

Cleaner didn't start that long ago so if you use the Previous Stories By Date timeline to the left you will easily be able to catch up with what's been going on and keep on reading. 

Lady Ann is a little trickier as it's been running for eighteen months.

The best thing you can do there is get the book of Lady Ann's Holiday (the prequel to Lady Ann's Folly) by clicking on the picture to the right. That will enable you to catch up with the story and move ahead.

If you don't want to get the book or troll back through the Previous Stories to catch up then here is a link to the page that gives you the entire story of Lady Ann's Holiday in brief. That will tell you all you need to know in ten minutes. 

Further to our serials I'm releasing a book every month on the 13th of each month. You can see them listed on the right with pictures of the covers. 

My next release will be on July 13th: a compilation of six short stories called Talons of the Hawk.

Cleaner: Chapter Two - Part One

Again?

DAHLIA

Tower Gates Shopping Centre wasn’t a place I tended to shop very often.

Because of my particular tastes and my preference for tailor-made clothes, it was generally a waste of time. When I first moved back to Nockton my fame had been another good reason. Being picked out by other shoppers was flattering... to an extent, but it was also fairly irritating. That wasn’t so much of an issue nowadays – it had been three years since my last fashion shoot – but I wore my sunglasses as a matter of course. Better to be safe than sorry and my particular errand this afternoon was one I really didn’t want to get caught on.

I felt guilty enough as it was. My role exchange with Melissa earlier had been alarmingly weird. I couldn’t believe I’d gone through with it, let alone considered it in the first place.

I liked sex but it bored me a little. Perhaps I’d never found a really compatible partner – someone to energise my spirit and my passion enough to make the grunting and straining worthwhile. But it was disconcerting to find myself getting tingles every time I thought about swapping places with Melissa for the day.

I’d never heard of anyone else having such strange thoughts. Was it perverse? Was I some kind of weirdo? Or did lots of people have this kind of fantasy? Maybe it was common but everyone was so worried about what people might think that they didn’t share their urges. Or maybe I just had too much money and time on my hands. I’d heard that rich people tended to be into really kinky stuff. Maybe it was just down to cash and boredom.

I was in danger of talking myself out of this shopping expedition so I changed the subject of my thoughts to the lunch that I'd eaten. It had been more than I usually ate but I'd enjoyed the excess. The desserts especially. There had been some guilt-fuelled resistance to letting go and relaxing into it, but after I made myself ignore that I’d loved chomping my way through them. I never ate for pleasure like that, to an extent that would be over my normal calorific intake

And the fact I knew that had lent an extra buzz of dozy pleasure, knowing that it might add to my weight, even by a tiny amount.

Once past the lips, forever on the hips. That was what my mother had always said. I smiled to imagine those desserts making me ever so slightly fatter for the rest of my life then shook my head in bemusement that I could think such a thing.

I walked on, looking for the kind of shop I was wanting. My musing on food and fat had eliminated my reservations for a while and I enjoyed myself, imagining the kind of outfit I could wear as my next Melissa disguise.

Did I want to temporarily become a cleaner? Or was I actually interested in becoming Melissa herself?

On the face of it, it was a subtle distinction, but the depth and layers of the latter proposition gave me a sufficient tingle to know that it was the one I was thinking of.

I shook my head again in bemusement but put the thought aside when I saw the kind of shop I was looking for.

It was a medium sized discount clothes store called Trend For Ladies. The word “Trend” was in bold typeface while “for ladies” was in elegant script. It gave the impression there was another store called Trend for Men, but there wasn’t as far as I knew. The other impression it gave was that the owner’s ambition outstripped his potential by a country mile. It was a store that was doing its best but the clothes weren’t top of the range, nor were they all that cheap. And the designers they used had a flair for drabness and functionality rather than fashion and panache.

It was just the kind of shop I was looking for.

I loitered in the doorway, unsure of myself, looking round to see if anyone would recognise me, then popped inside.

It was a completely different establishment than I was used to. The boutiques in Farley I went to were small and exclusive and the ladies who worked there could smell money from fifty paces. No one sprang forward to greet me here, already assessing my size and the most likely style of outfit I would go for. I was just another shopper. It felt anonymous and that felt nice. There was only one visible shop assistant in the store and she was at the till, sorting clothes into two piles.

I moved between the clothes stands, feeling oddly ill-at-ease, almost like... I guessed it was almost like a man might feel, going into a women’s clothes shop to buy a dress: like I might be recognised for what I was at any moment and be branded and exposed.

But no one knew me here. They didn’t know about anything sordid regarding my intentions. It wasn’t sordid. It was just something I was doing for... pleasure.

Melissa’s dress had been far too big but the style had been just about what I wanted: dark material, short sleeves, coming to the knee. There was plenty of choice along those lines. The shop was designed for frumpy women.

I narrowed it down to two possibles and decided on the dark blue one that was closest to Melissa’s outfit from today, then I checked the sizes. What size to get was something of a quandary for me. I couldn’t get one anywhere near as big as Melissa’s, but it felt like that was a shame. I wished I could put on some kind of fat suit, like they used in films sometimes, but that wouldn’t be easy to procure and then I really would feel like an idiot.

I wondered if... What if I used padding or something? Would that be too weird?

I dropped out of the moment again, blushing; questioning myself. I almost walked out then and there. But I was determined to stick this out. Even if I never asked Melissa to swap again I could still enjoy it in the evening by myself.

I ended up choosing one that was a size too big for me to leave my options open and as I walked to the till I imagined what it would be like to fill it properly. I imagined eating too much; putting on weight until it became snug, or even too tight. I was almost grinning by the time I reached the till.

My fear that the cashier would question me was unfounded. I paid without incident and left the shop, feeling naughty and brazen and maybe a little ashamed.

Outside, the mall was busy. I stood there for a minute, my mind wandering over what I’d done; what I might still do. Then I noticed that there was a shop called Sweet City opposite.

I thought of the chocolate desserts and about the dress that was a bit too big for me and I went on looking at the shop.

Then I walked across the corridor and went inside.

Why You Should Get the Book of Lady Ann's Holiday

Lady Ann's Folly is really building momentum now and if you aren't reading it already then it's well worth a look. 

But of course Lady Ann's Folly is actually the second book in a trilogy. The first book is Lady Ann's Holiday!

Lady Ann's Holiday is the story of a spoiled aristocratic lady who makes the dubious decision to swap places with Burt, the stable hand on her father's estate. 

Things don't go as smoothly as she hopes and soon she is taking on Burt's lower class ways and finding out exactly what life is like as an illiterate commoner. 

Will she ever get back to being herself? 

That's what the book sets out to find out. 

Lady Ann's Holiday is still available for free in its first draft on this site and on Fictionmania but I just thought I'd flag up why the book is better. 

Why The Book is Better 

In the version that got published on Amazon I cleaned the whole manuscript up and I also expanded loads of elements. 

The first few chapters leading up to and including the change are REALLY different from the version online and there is more content throughout the book. 

In addition to that, I published the final version after I'd plotted the two sequels so I was able to go back through and add characters and locations that will suddenly become far more significant in Lady Ann's Folly and Lady Ann's Revenge! Some of the new characters become real game-changers in Lady Ann's Revenge.

If you're just getting into Lady Ann's Folly then it's critical reading but I'm actually rereading it myself this week and loving every sordid minute as Ann's willful descent into stupidity, poverty and working class status is played out in painstaking detail. 

Click here to read the preview on Amazon.

Lady Ann's Folly: Chapter Three - Part Six

Ann rushed out of the holiday cottage, not bothering to shut it up.

Panic like streaks of lightning was shooting through her veins all over her body. Her mind was almost blank with the pinpoint of worry.

Her worst fear had come true. She had known it was idiotic and had done it anyway. She should never have traded bodies, even for a moment.

Traded lives... That was what she had really done, not traded bodies. Unless she could find Mavis quickly there was every chance she would be stuck like this. Her voice would change first, entirely becoming that of a Yorkshire clodhopper; then her personality would start to shift. She’d grow to enjoy the lowbrow pursuits of a country barmaid and then soon after that even her memory would be affected. She’d forget what it was like to be a lady and recall more and more about a life as a peasant. In the end she would forget she had ever been Lady Ann or Burt. She would become Mavis in every single way that mattered.

Oh, how could she have been so stupid?

She had known it was a bad idea. She had decided not to do it. Even after they changed by accident she could still have reversed it right away. Why hadn’t she?

Idiocy! That was why! Idiocy and recklessness!

She ran down to the stable and turned up the path toward the front of the hall.

If she could just find the former Mavis right away. She still had the pendant. Trading places again should be simple. But it had to be now – before she had time to acclimatise. The minute she came to believe she had inherited the power due her new rank, it would become infinitely harder. And of course, ever hour Ann remained in Mavis’s form, her own sense of authority would be eroded.

“Oh God. I have to fix this. I have to fix this now!”

The light was fading from the sky as she ran up to the front steps and ascended. She looked into the dim entranceway through the glass. No one was about. That was good. She turned the handle and pushed.

Nothing happened. The door was locked.

Ann locked up for a moment, the panic growing brighter.

She hammered on the door then instantly regretted it.

Whoever came to open it would see her only as the local barmaid. They would have no interest in any demands she made.

Perhaps she should flee; hide; try one of the other doors!

Before she could move, she saw movement inside and Powell, the butler, came into view. He saw her. She was trapped.

The best thing she could do now was try and talk herself inside – get to see the faux Ann and force the swap on her somehow. She still had the pendant. As long as she did, she had all the power. She had to remember that.

Powell opened the door, a sneer on his face. Seeing that open condemnation where before there had been only reverence was heartbreaking – especially when she recalled the way she’d been looked down on as Burt. This wasn’t a new experience – that was the horrible thing – it was a return to that most awful and humiliating lack of status.

“Yes?” he asked. No preamble of politeness.

“I, uh... I need to see Lady Ann.” Despite her desperation, her voice remained well-crafted again, but Powell didn’t notice. The way she looked damned her completely in his eyes.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“It’s urgent,” she replied. “Please. She ‘as somethin’ of mine. I’ve got to get it back off her.”

“Be off with you girl. You have no right to be here. Go back to your inn and do what you do best.”

“No! Listen, you! I ‘afta speak to ‘er right now! Go and fetch er if you won’t let me in!”

“You clearly don’t appreciate your position my girl,” said Powell sternly. “This is Griply Hall. You are not fit to clean the boots of the lord and ladies who live here. If you do not vacate the premises immediately I will have the dogs set on you.”

Ann gaped back at him. She couldn’t believe that she was in this position after having everything just an hour or two earlier! He was only the butler but she was nothing now compared to him. She wasn’t even an employee at the hall. She had rights of any kind to demand anything.

“What’s going on here Powell?” came a lady’s voice, and Ann looked past the butler into the hall as Hattie appeared and approached the door.

“Apologies m’lady,” said Powell. “This riff raff is causing a nuisance.”

Riff raff? No. Surely. She was meant to be the lady of the manor. She was meant to be Lady Ann!

“Let me have a look at the girl,” said Hattie, and Powell stepped to the side.

Ann felt a tiny shred of hope. Powell was a brick wall of obstinacy but surely her sister could be persuaded.

“What do you want?” asked Hattie.

“I... I need to speak to... to her ladyship, Lady Ann.”

“Oh do you now? On what matter?”

Ann faltered. “On... a private matter... m’lady.” Her heart sank further still at having to address her little sister in this way. But she had no other choice.

“Who are you?” demanded Hattie.

“I’m...” She didn’t want to say it. “I’m Mavis Gibbs... miss. I... I work as a barmaid down t’Dog & Pony.”

She recognised the accent colouring her voice and felt even more dejected but in response to the confession of who she was now she got that same tingle in my mind that she knew meant the magic was working on her still further.

Hearing the words, Hattie gave a little smirk and Ann frowned, getting an inkling of something. But before she could put her thoughts in order, Hattie said, “Powell, see to it that this baggage is sent away. She is not to be allowed to speak to Lady Ann. Ensure all the doors and windows are locked.”

“No,” begged Ann. “Please miss. I just need to see er for a minute.”

“If she does not leave immediately then call for my father, the Earl. I am sure he will be more than willing to see to it that this peasant is flogged for her impudence.”

Hattie turned and walked away and Ann stared after her, shocked to the core.

“You heard her,” declared Powell. “Be off with you, you dirty scamp!”

“But please. You have to listen!”

“Begone girl! Or I’ll call the Earl and you’ll be whipped like the animal you are!”

Ann scuttled away and down the steps in fear. She couldn’t bear the idea of that . Nothing could be worse.

She stared back at Powell as he closed and locked the front door and the horror of her predicament closed around her.

Too much time was passing. The situation was falling further and further out of her control. How could she ever reach the real Mavis before it became all too late?

She couldn’t risk being seen again. And the house would be locked up, front and back.

She was trapped! She was going to be trapped forever!

Finn-Books.com

You may be interested to learn that I've just finished my brand new website: 

finn-books.com

Go and check it out. 

It serves as a central hub for everything I produce and I created it so that I could have a site with a snappy name that I (or others) could easily tell to other people. 

Most excitingly for you guys, there's a little slot on there to sign up for a newsletter I'm going to start producing.

This will go out via email and will give previews of things I'm working on including actual story extracts from time to time.

Sign up now! 

Now, I tell you! Now! 

And let's get the name out there. The more people you can send a link to to finn-books. com, the better. 

Let's get the whole world reading transformation stories! How cool would that be?

Lady Ann's Folly: Chapter Three - Part Five

Ann walked down from the hay barn, her arm looped into Burt’s a big grin of satisfaction on her chops.

She wished she retained more detailed knowledge of sex as a man but this felt as though it had surpassed anything she had enjoyed in either life.

“By eck as like, I must say,” said Burt. “You was a right horny minx today.

Ann only grinned coyly in return. She’d discovered right after the sex that holding on to the Yorkshire accent hadn’t been easy. There was a very slight colouring but not enough to talk normally. With his past experience, Burt would likely see through her in a second if she said too much.

“Owzabout we have another poke later tonight?”

Ann giggled and nodded. Then her face fell slightly.

“Wot?” asked Burt.

“Nothing,” replied Ann. And looked away, disappointed. Because she wouldn’t be Mavis later tonight. She would be herself again.

She toyed briefly with extending her stay in that form but there was stupidity and then there was idiocy. She’d already risked far too much becoming Mavis for a little while. She had to get back to her own body and be satisfied with the memory.

Perhaps if it worked well she could do it again in the months or years to come but for now her anxiety was telling her to cut her losses.

The circled to the front of the stable house and Burt gave her one last kiss on the lips, holding her chin in finger and thumb. “You’re my lass,” he said, smiling.

Ann beamed in response and found herself saying, “You bet your arse on it luv.”

They broke off and she walked away, shaking her head and chuckling at how enveloping the transformations were. It truly was the most incredible experience – the greatest opportunity of her life.

Putting her hands in the pockets of her skirt, Ann ambled back up the path toward the holiday cottage, enjoying the heat of her afterglow. It had been truly glorious. She felt the pendant’s box in her right pocket and turned it over and over with her fingers, glad she’d kept hold of it. Whatever had persuaded the former Ann that it was best left hidden in the holiday cottage totally escaped her.

There was no one about on the path around the holiday cottage – no one in the direction of the hall. No Earl or gardener or Hattie. That was good. It was achingly obvious to her now how dangerous this entire adventure had been; just how much could have gone wrong. But that didn’t matter now. She’d done it and she was glad she had. The pleasure she’d experienced was worth any risk.

The door to the holiday cottage was open when she got there. That made Ann pause and frown. Surely... She was sure she’d shut it behind her.

A thud went deep into her stomach, quickening her pulse. Surely no one else had... No.

She hurried inside. “Mavis? Mavis are you still in here?”

She got to the lounge doorway and stood, gaping at what she saw.

The chair where Mavis had been left tied up was empty. The rope was untied and discarded.

The table where the money had been was bare.

“Bleedin’ eck,” muttered Ann. “Oh my giddy aunt.”

Mavis was gone.

In her body.

She didn’t know how. She didn’t know where.

But until she found out where Mavis had got to, she was trapped!

The Future of Cleaner

Cleaner is coming along very well and I thought I'd take a moment to fill you guys in on my plans for it.

A month or so ago, I was thinking about publishing a cleaned up version of Cleaner on Amazon (heh - see what I did there?) and I sat down to reread it to see what needed doing. My plan was to not spend too much time and just get it out there. 

What I found though was that the opening chapter skimped so much on detail that to really do it justice I needed to put a lot more work in. 

Impulsively I decided to release it as my next serial, but as I got started on the expanded version that would now become a full novel, I realised that to really get to the bottom of this bizarre and kinky exploration of the human psyche, I was going to have to REALLY expand it. 

If you've read the original story, you will know that there are three distinct flows of action. I won't "spoil" the story for those that haven't, but suffice to say, the first two story arcs take up one episode and six pages of story. 

As I started to flesh these out in outline I had a third realisation.

Really, to do these arcs full justice, I'm reconking that what we're really looking at length-wise is three novels. 

The meat of the original story would comprise the third book in this trilogy. 

I quaked in fear at the thought of this initially, but then I started thinking about it, filling in more of the detail that would be required to transform those two first story arcs into something detailed and gripping. Then I started to get quite excited. 

So what we're looking at - so you can set your expectations - are three distinct book-length serials. Each will be constructed with their own rises and falls of tension and suspense and will each build toward a climax. With every book, the story will move on down the strange and twisted paths that Dahlia and Melissa have embarked upon until they reach their gripping conclusion in book three. 

There's going to be a LOT more going on than in the original story and I'll be working hard to make every chapter a page-turner. 

As per usual, I will work on the story ahead of it being released and will probably stick each book on Amazon as I complete them. That way, if readers can't wait they can always pick it up, or they can continue following the serial on here. Basically it will be the same as we did for Lady Ann's Holiday. 



So it's quite exciting hopefully. I'm really enjoying weaving the new plotlines into the story and look forward to hearing what you think. 

As always, you can follow me on Twitter @emmafinnuk for daily updates on this and other stories I'm working on. So click Follow on the Twitter feed to your left and I'll see you there!

Lady Ann's Folly: Chapter Three - Part Four

Burt led the way up the outside staircase at the back of the stable building and the woman in his lady-friend’s body followed him. This new Mavis had a smile spreading slowly across her lips; of anticipation and even of budding arousal.

She hadn’t had... intercourse since she had been a man and the memories of that time were faded. Far more immediate was the recollection of her attraction to the stablehand at her grandmamma’s house in London, the near miss they had shared. And she thought too about the kiss she and Burt had exchanged as the weir whooshed beside them, his strong arms wrapped around her.

But she wasn’t Lady Ann anymore. She was Mavis. She was nothing but the local strumpet; a wanton slag who was willing to debase herself if her man was strong enough. I‘m Mavis, she thought to herself. I’m Burt’s lass. I’m the barmaid down at the Dog & Pony. And I’m going to let Burt have his wicked way with me. I’m going to spread me legs for him and let ‘im ram his thick hard cock into me minge.

“By eck as like Burt, I must say,” she said. “I’m desperate to get me some of your dick in my fanny. Hurry it up.”

He looked back at her and grinned broadly, backing into the hay barn and drawing her in after him by both hands. “You don’t ‘ave ta tell me twice darlin. Get in ere and let me—Mnmmm.”

Mavis pressed her lips to his, grabbing his triceps and pulling herself against him. Their lips parted and her tongue pushed through and she giggled through the kiss, delighted that it was really happening at last.

Burt closed his arms around the small of her back, lifting her up on her tips and tipping her backward, pressing into the snog. Mavis lost herself to it for a moment, the swell of her passion overcoming her completely, then she snatched at him desperately, pulling him closer, moaning as their tongues entwined.

It was all the passion she’d been longing for from Richard but expressed in a way that was infinitely more primal and erotic than he could ever have performed. This wasn’t a formal and stolid physical process undertaken under sufferance of duty. It was passion and need. It was a pinpoint of desire and satisfaction. It was everything she had wanted; more than she could have expected.

Burt worked his kisses down her neck, pressing his thick fingertips into her lower back. Mavis raised her face to the ceiling, her breath coming in unevenly, going out again ragged and laced with physical emotion. He grabbed at her bodice and at the chemise, pulling them wider to reveal more of her pillowy cleavage. He kissed down onto them, kneading the enormous breasts. He sucked on them – another sensation that Mavis couldn’t have imagined. This was her first real encounter with a man since she’d become a woman and the newness was incredible.

“Oh Burt. Oh yes. That’s wonderful.”

He gripped her buttock with one hand and with the other he squeezed her breast out of its bounds, suckling on the nipple, chewing it almost painfully roughly and making her gasp in surprise and delight.

Mavis gripped the back of his head, his shorn bristles. His moustache tickled her bosom and the feel of it escalated her loss of control. Then he let her go and she dropped back and then he kissed her again, probing the inside of her mouth, tousling back as she responded with her own tongue. She snatched at his shirt but only managed to undo two buttons before she lost track of what she’d been trying to do when he worked down her neck on the other side and popped her other breast into view. Now both of them were protruding from the front of her bodice, the constraints of her chemise forcing them together into two plump dewdrops, one of which Burt kissed and muzzled, the other he played with under his big rough hand.

The masculine smell of him was all over her and Mavis breathed it in desperately. It was the stench of hard work and manure but it was the scent of a big strong working man – the man she only realise now that she’d been desperately wanting.

“I need ye Burt. Oh Gawd, I need ye so badly.”

He groaned, suckling hard enough to make her gasp with satisfaction but she pulled away playfully, luring him, fire-eyed toward her with a suggestive leer on her face.

There was no thought in her mind for the body or life she’d left tied up in the holiday cottage. For now she was only Burt’s woman. She was only Mavis. And the leery thought of that was concentrated in the soft and heated buzzing in the back of her skull.

“Oh Burt,” she whispered. “I didn’t realise ‘ow much I wanted you until now.”

“Then get ere,” he replied. “I want you too and there’s shit that wants shovelling before ‘Arry gets back.”

Mavis laughed, squealing with delight when Burt darted forward to grab her wrist. She pulled away, laughing, but he grabbed her other wrist and used his strength to pull him to her the prise her arms down to her sides. It thrilled her to be possessed in this way; to allow herself to be dominated.

A momentary thought of Richard came to her mind and she did laugh aloud. Would he ever have been this way with her? Could he ever? No. Surely not. And she wanted it to go on forever. She allowed herself to want that, just for a moment; to want to stay Mavis; to be the slutty woman of this most virile simple-hearted man. Surely they were meant for each other.

But the thought was driven from her mind as Burt turned her and lowered her to the floor. His pallet was still stowed away. They didn’t have even that faint luxury beneath them – just the bare hay-strewn boards. Mavis’s great bosom quivered as she fell back on her elbows, gazing rapturously up at her man.

Burt grinned down at her and knelt between her feet. He waggled his eyebrows and hurled back the skirt to reveal her legs. Mavis squealed again with delight and expectation. Burt ran his fingers down one smooth calf, taking it agonisingly slow.

He kissed her knee and ran his tongue down the inside of her thigh. Then he raised his head back up to her knee and gently blew down the moist trail, lighting up Mavis’s nether regions.

“I want ye Burt,” breathed Mavis, loving the sound of the Yorkshire accent coming from her lips. “I want ye so, so badly.”

He just looked at her for a moment. Then, like a faithful hound, he clamboured over her body, grinning and planted his lips on hers as he struggled to lower the front of his trousers.

For a second, Mavis felt the desperate urge for them to be naked, but then he pulled her drawers off in one strong motion and then pressed close again and squeezed his cock into her.

Mavis gasped, her body falling instantly limp. For several slow pumps she simply lay there, prostrate, unable to gather any cognisance. Then she kissed him, clawing at his back; gripping his rough cheeks. She worked her abdomen, moving it against his, and though their passion had been animal and desperate up to now, it was suddenly slow and warming. It was two souls meeting with this pure act of simple union. It was everything. Simply everything.

Burt played with her breasts. He kissed them, lifting them too him in his gigantic hands. He kissed her lips he kissed her eyelids.

“Ooooh Mavis,” he groaned. “Ye’re a right grand lass, you. A right grand lass.”

She beamed, pressing him closer to her and as she did so the buzzing in her skull seemed to be everywhere suddenly. It felt like her body were being lifted into the sky amid the clouds. She let out a series of tiny staccato gasps. She went still.

But Burt kept on pumping, growing more and more violent with each thrust.

Mavis still couldn’t move – such was the potency of the sensation running through her – but she could feel each jolt of his pelvis and the action carried her even higher into the firmament. She tried to scream in delight but her throat was too tight with the explosive intensity of it.

This was everything. Burt was everything.

It was the happiest she’d ever been in her life.

Lady Ann's Folly: Chapter Three - Part Three

Lady Harriet was in a foul mood.

She tugged on the bell chord in the morning room then tugged on it again. When there was no immediate response she stormed to the door and marched out onto the landing. Bad enough that the entire family was blaming her for everything, she couldn’t even get help from a servant when she wanted it.

She peered over the balcony into the empty hall then looked left and right toward each corridor that led from the landing to the wings of the house. No one was in sight.

“Where is everyone? This is impossible!”

Footsteps behind her made her pause and turn to see Gladys, Ann’s lady’s maid appear from the servant’s staircase and turn to go in the opposite direction of all things.

“You!” snapped Hattie. “Whe do you think you’re going?”

Gladys turned to face her and blushed. “Beggin your pardon m’lady. I was going to ‘er ladyship Ann’s room to make sure everything’s clean and tidy.”

“Didn’t you hear the bell?”

“No miss.”

“I’ve been ringing it for ages.”

“Sorry miss. I didn’t know. I’ve been outside.”

“Where’s that silly new girl?” asked Hattie.

“Nellie? I don’t know miss.”

“This is ridiculous,” snapped Hattie, putting her hands on her hips. “What on Earth have you been doing outside? Your duty is indoors to be on hand to see to my needs.”

“Lady Ann sent me into the village miss. To fetch the barmaid from the Dog & Pony.”

“Whatever for?”

“Don’t know miss.”

Hattie glared at her, expecting her to go on but she didn’t. “Well where did you take her?”

“To the holiday cottage miss.”

“Alone?”

“Yes miss. No miss. To meet her ladyship.”

“Ann?”

“Yes miss.” Gladys’s eyes clouded for a moment. “I wasn’t meant to tell. Sorry miss. Please don’t tell her ladyship I let on.”

Hattie ignored her, turning away to lean on the railing overlooking the hall.

“Will that be all miss?”

Hattie glanced across, remembering her. “Er, yes. That’s fine. You can go.”

Gladys turned to leave.

“To the holiday cottage you say?” asked Hattie, stopping her again.

“Yes m’lady.” Gladys  bobbed a curtsy when she realised there would be no questions and withdrew, leaving Hattie pondering the oddity of this news.

A moment later, Lottie, the chambermaid, with the new maid, Nellie in tow, appeared. “Was it you that rang m’lady?”

“No. Get out of my sight. I’m thinking.”

Looking uncertain, both maids withdrew and descended the servant’s stairs.

Hattie played with a curl of her dark hair for several moments and then started to circle the landing to the stairs.

Whatever Ann was up to with that barmaid had made her powerfully intrigued.

She decided to go and investigate; see if there was anything of interest going on.  And it sounded like it was something Ann wasn’t meant to be doing. That was even better. Hattie hadn’t forgotten her sister’s laughter from earlier. Anything that could turn things to her advantage to divert the ire their parents were levying at her couldn’t hurt to discover.