The announcement, obviously fed through a voice modulator, came from speakers set into the corners of the ceiling, right beside the cameras and microphones that monitored everything that Leigh did, every second of the day.

“It’s slut red,” Leigh responded to the empty room not glancing up at the cameras.

The lipstick was actually Maybelline New York Superstay in bold red but Leigh knew that wasn’t the answer the voice was looking for.

“And why is it slut red?” the voice asked and Leigh also knew the answer to this question.

“Because I am a slut,” Leigh breathed.

“Very good, now assume the position,” Leigh knew that this would be the next order that she would be given but it still sent shivers down her spine, although this time for slightly different reasons.

Leigh arose from the padded seat in front of the vanity mirror, primly smoothing her red leather skirt. She strode the few paces on her red, patent leather four-inch pumps to the two-seater couch. The pumps are Christian Louboutin So Kate valued at around fifteen hundred dollars. The other heels in her wardrobe are Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik. Nothing in her wardrobe is cheap. Leigh Saunders is a rich woman but that doesn’t count for much when you are a prisoner.

She snatches a satin throw pillow off the couch, walks to the centre of the room, faces the door, throws the pillow on the floor and kneels on it. Her legs are clad in Wolford ten denier tan stockings and although they are holdups they have the same backseam, and lacy welt as conventional garter hosiery. She is wearing a pristine white, almost transparent blouse and she is enfolded a miasma of Dior Poison perfume. Her makeup is perfect, her blonde bangs perfectly straight, her silver jewellery is real, not costume. She is the epitome of a stylishly, if somewhat passé, ‘woman of a certain age’ exuding sensuality and sexuality whilst retaining a modicum of respectability.

All that changes when Mister Bigelow opens the door and enters the room.

For the first time she feels a stirring in her loins. She has been conditioned like Pavlov’s dog.

Mister Bigelow strides to the centre of the room and stops in front of the attractive woman kneeling before him.

“You know what to do,” the disembodied voice resonates from the speakers; Mister Bigelow never speaks.

Leigh unzips Mister Bigelow’s trousers and extracts his semi-bloated organ. It is long and thick with a bulbous head and thick blue veins running along the translucent flesh of the shaft. She is very familiar with this appendage as it is the only male organ she has ever touched beside her own. She is now eminently accomplished in making this penis spring to attention and knows exactly what is required to bring it to extremis.

The first time she had been ordered to perform this task she was resolute that she would not, under any circumstances, do so and had been vocal about it. Mister Bigelow had said nothing. The ceiling-mounted speaker had spoken on his behalf. This was the first day she had woken up in what she referred to as ‘her cell’ and had been ordered to dress in her provocative intimates, nylons, heels, wig and makeup. She had complied with that order simply because there was no other clothing to wear but she was damned if she was going to perform fellatio on the hulking, muscled, silent man who had entered the room.

Instead she had bombarded him with questions but Mister Bigelow had remained stoic and said nothing, instead the disembodied voice from the speaker had spoken on his behalf.

“Mister Bigelow is here to educate you. A threat has no teeth unless those that need to be educated understand the consequences of failing to learn their lessons. Proceed please Mister Bigelow,” the voice had commanded.

When Mister Bigelow had produced the stun gun Leigh had recognised it for what it was and began to beg and plead but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

The moment the taser pressed against her flesh and the electrical current began flowing through her the pain was immediate and shocking. The intensity of the pain and involuntary muscle contractions was unlike anything else she had ever experienced and it instantly overwhelmed her senses. In addition to the darting pain, the electrical current caused all the muscles in her body to contract instantly, causing her to fall to the floor. After the initial shock, Leigh experienced powerful muscle spasms that arched her back, twisted her arms, and caused her legs to kick out without control.

The lack of bodily control combined with the intense pain was terrifying even though the electrical pulses from the device were designed to incapacitate without doing permanent damage. Once the electrical shock stopped she was left feeling drained and disoriented. She lay on the floor trembling, twitching, and aching as her muscles spasmed involuntarily and it took several minutes for her body to regain neurological control.

Leigh was left feeling disoriented and overcome with feelings of residual fear, anxiety, elevated heart rate and adrenaline, even after the five minutes or so that it took for the aftereffects of being tased to wear off. When she had regained her senses and awareness of her surroundings the speaker boomed back into life.

“Mister Bigelow is going to do that to you every time you do not do as you are told. You will not be given a second chance to comply. You have been appropriately educated and understand the consequences of failing to cooperate. I take it that you need no further education today?” the voice sounded condescending but Leigh got to her hands and knees and nodded.

“Please acknowledge verbally Miz Saunders,” the voice had commanded.

Leigh had replied verbally and that was the day that she sucked her first cock.

As it turned out it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She had gotten to her knees and followed the instructions issued to her through the speaker. She had unzipped Mister Bigelow’s fly, extracted his bloated organ, which was fully erect. Leigh would learn that inflicting pain fuelled Mister Bigelow’s libido. She had opened her mouth and sucked on the engorged phallus until it had ejaculated. She had tried to spit out the musky essences as they filled her mouth but Mister Bigelow had held her face to his groin until he had finished ejaculating and had then pushed her away after wiping his cock on her face.

“You will get better with practice,” this time Leigh sensed a tinge of sarcasm in the disembodied voice.

But she had gotten better. Although she had no real sense of time she guessed that she was forced to fellate Mister Bigelow three times a day for the first few days of her captivity and she soon became an accomplished fellatrix. What worried her the most was not the initial feelings of disgust and self-loathing that she felt after she had sucked Mister Bigelow’s penis, it was the fact that she was starting to look forward to doing so. There was little else for her to do in her well-appointed oubliette.

There was a selection of healthy snacks and diet soda and she was fed three wholesome meals a day. There was no way she was going to put on weight and in fact she had lost a little. There was an exercise bike set up in front of the big-screen television and she was required to cycle for an hour every day. She had been provided with spandex yoga pants, a matching sports top and good quality training shoes to do so. The exercise clothes was one of the few ensembles that didn’t come from her own wardrobe.

Whoever had abducted her had cleared out her closet and brought all of her feminine requisites to this cell. There was not a single item of her male wardrobe present and she was required to present enfemme every second that she was awake and even slept in babydoll pyjamas and full makeup. But this was no forced feminisation fantasy. This was abduction, kidnapping, incarceration and probably sexual assault, although that final part was now open to debate.

Leigh fondled Mister Bigelow’s distended organ. She was now familiar with the pink corona of his glans and the pearly penile papules that circled the flange. She traced the veins in the shaft with her fingernail and cupped his scrotum and gently caressed it, teasing him.

“See the changes in her? She’s starting to like it,” William Sauber commented pointing at the screen.

“We finally have something we can use,” Jack Dollarhyde grunted.

“It’s only been a few days,” William replied.

“We are on a timeline here Bill,” Jack was dismissive.

The two men watched Leigh fondle Mister Bigelow’s erect penis, encircling her fingers around the girth of it. She slowly began to masturbate him and Leigh felt her own penis begin to become erect. It was tucked between her legs wrapped in her empty scrotum held in place by tight spandex panties. Tucking was one of the first arts she had mastered when she began to seriously crossdress.

Small beads of pre-ejaculate began to form on the eye of Mister Bigelow’s penis and Leigh gathered them with her fingertips and massaged the unguent into his cock which was now steely hard. Mister Bigelow’s breathing was becoming laboured and Leigh smiled.

“See that! She definitely likes it,” Jack finally agreed with William.

“We can use this footage,” he said excitedly.

“It won’t be enough. I need a couple more days,” William concentrated on the screen.

Leigh’s long, elegant fingers, tipped by manicured red fingernails, danced along Mister Bigelow’s phallus and then she leaned forward and lapped at his fraenulum with her tongue and was delighted when she heard Mister Bigelow hiss.

She finally felt empowered. Having been helplessly imprisoned for so long, she was the one currently in control… or so she thought. Also, despite her resolve not to, she was becoming sexually stimulated. She had never equated crossdressing with sex, although she knew that many or maybe even most of her ilk did.

Leigh had begun crossdressing because she desired the look, feel, and sensuality of feminine garments and everything else associated with them. It helped her relieve stress, uneasiness, and depression and it was almost like a form of meditation; becoming completely absorbed in applying makeup or styling her hair or deciding which outfit she would wear. When she presented as Leigh she no longer had to worry about responsibility and could relax. Retreating into her feminine alter-ego relieved the anxiety that was brought on my her highly demanding job and complicated relationships.

But what she was doing now had nothing to do with that. Well that wasn’t quite right. She still luxuriated in the comfort of presenting herself as feminine but this was also raw libido… it was sexual.

Her cock was nearly fully erect when she finally took Mister Bigelow’s bloated organ in her mouth and began to tease the glans with her tongue while her lips slid up and down the shaft. Her testes had distended from her inguinal canals and filled her scrotum and she had no choice but to put her hand under her skirt and free her penis from between her legs so that it tented her panties. She resisted the urge to stroke it and instead concentrated on sucking Mister Bigelow’s cock. It was now leaking a continual stream of precum which she savoured before she swallowed it. A few days beforehand she would have been tempted to spit it out except for the consequences of doing so.

Now she needed no threats, implied or otherwise, she sucked on Mister Bigelow’s cock, sliding her lips up and down the shaft whilst flittering her tongue on his glans and fraenulum, delighting in the feel of his flesh pulsing in her mouth. Mister Bigelow placed his hands on her head and began to face fuck her.

No need for that; let her do it please Mister Bigelow, the voice came through the speaker but Leigh hardly heard it and Mister Bigelow let go of Leigh’s head.

She sucked on Mister Bigelow’s cock with relish, feeling it expand to full tumescence and begin to judder as his orgasm approached. Leigh quickened her pace and gently squeezed his scrotum and was rewarded with a mouthful of viscous, creamy milt which she swallowed with glee. Her body trembled a little, noticed only by William Sauber who was staring at the gorgeous woman fellating the hulking man towering over her, his own cock becoming a little engorged.

Leigh voided her essences into her panties without even touching her genitals such was the overpowering stimulation, joy and gratification of inducing Mister Bigelow’s orgasm. Almost immediately she felt remorse but there was nothing she could do but continue to suck Mister Bigelow’s cock until she drained it and enjoy the sensations of her own orgasm as it coursed through her loins and rippled through her body.

Mister Bigelow removed his cock from Leigh’s mouth, and as he always did, he we wiped it all over her face, smearing her makeup. Normally this would disgust her but today she felt her cock judder as the last of her issue creamed her tucking panties.

As she had been trained to do, she put Mister Bigelow’s cock back inside his underpants and zipped his fly closed and remained kneeling on the pillow with her head bowed, feeling degraded. But that wasn’t all she felt was it? She felt gratified and sexually sated.

Angelo DeMarko

“What am I looking at here?” Angelo DeMarko sat behind a mahogany desk looking up at twenty pictures pinned to the wall opposite.

“This is the jury pool for your forthcoming trial,” William Sauber explained.

“Our contact at the courthouse provided it to us at great expense but as you are aware Angelo, we are sparing no expense to make sure we win this case. Even the Prosecutor hasn’t been given this information yet,” William pointed to the pictures on the wall.

“No expense! Those fucking sharks at Dewy, McGivern and Stern are charging me for every fucking paperclip and staple but they say they I have a solid defence,” Angelo reached for the café latte sitting on the table in front of him.

Angelo had been indicted on a number of predicates under the RICO act, which in his case including gambling, human trafficking, prostitution, arson, drug importation, bribery, mail and wire fraud and Angelo was looking at a life sentence if convicted.

“We can’t just rely on the lawyers Angelo. We need to make sure the jury finds you not guilty or is at least hung. One of these people is going to be our ace in the hole,” William sipped his own coffee and tapped a keyboard in front of him.

“So we bribe one? Threaten one? Is that what you're saying?” Angelo was suddenly very interested.

“That only works in the movies. Bribes can be traced even if we go through a third party and anyway the juror won’t be able to explain why he or she is suddenly loaded. We always tell the people we bribe not to start spending big but they always do; it’s human nature,” William shrugged his shoulders.

“Threats are even more dangerous. The victim is likely to go straight to the police and then they will arrest you for jury tampering on top of everything else. A threat is only worthwhile if you are serious about carrying it out and killing or maiming a juror or a member of their family is just plain stupid,” William added.

“What then?” Angelo was getting tired of all the talk and wanted his number-two guy to get to the point.

“Check out juror number seven. Lee Saunders is a hedge fund manager for Braithwaite Capital. He’s responsible for managing most of their big clients; I’m talking billionaires. He’s the only broker they’ll deal with and if he left Braithwaite Capital and took his clients with him the company would likely go under,” a series of slides appeared on the huge screen on the wall next to the jurors mugshots.

The mugshots had been taken discreetly by a surveillance team overseen by Jack Dollarhyde.

“My people have checked out all twenty of the potential jurors and Lee Saunders is the most vulnerable. He’s forty years old and divorced. He has two kids attending Princeton and an ex-wife who has expensive tastes and blows through alimony like a hooker through a bag of coke. He pays for their houses, one on Long Island and another in The Hamptons and he has his own swank apartment in the city. He pays a ton in alimony, the mortgages, the kids tuition and college fees, country club membership, leases their cars and he drives a Lamborghini, wears the right clothes, goes to all the right parties… all that shit that incredibly rich divorced assholes do,” William put Lee Saunders’ mugshot on the screen.

“Rich, handsome and privileged. His firm tried to call in a whole bunch of favours down at city hall to get him excused from jury duty but the judge said no. She wants smart people on the jury and has no time for corporate assholes who think they can shirk their civic responsibilities,” William chucked.

“So… blackmail? What we got on him? Ponzi scheme, insider trading, fraud, embezzlement? Something juicy?” Angelo DeMarko finally sounded excited.

“Something even better,” William tapped a key and the screen split.

On one side was a picture of Lee Saunders dressed in a tuxedo walking along a red carpet entering some swank social event. On the other side was a picture of a tall attractive blonde woman dressed in an evening gown and high heels. The dress was split from hip-to-hem showing off her long toned legs clad in shimmering hose. The background was blurred but it looked like the picture had been taken at a party of some kind.

“Who’s the blonde? She’s stunning. He fuckin’ the bosses wife? His friend’s wife, some politician’s wife? This better be good because if he’s divorced I don’t see the leverage,” Angelo sounded deflated.

“She nobody’s wife. She’s Leigh Saunders and she’s also Lee Saunders. She’s him,” William grinned.

Leigh Saunders

Like most compulsive crossdressers, Lee had begun wearing women’s clothing at a young age. First just his sister’s nylons and lingerie and then he had tried on a few of her skirts, blouses and dresses. Coming from a rich family he had a very generous allowance and had soon purchased his own wardrobe of lingerie, shoes, wigs, makeup, dresses, skirts and blouses. By the time he entered his late teens he could present very convincingly as a girl. He’d practiced hard at presenting femme, mimicking the gait, mannerisms and voice modulation of the women around him and he became adept at makeup and wig styling.

He kept his wardrobe locked away safely and only presented as Leigh, the name he had chosen for his femme alter ego, when he had the house to himself or when he slipped away to the family house in The Hamptons, alone for the weekend, ostensibly to study. Lee felt guilty about his secret obsession and had purged twice but he couldn’t stop. He desperately wanted to go out on the town as Leigh and express his sequestered femininity to the world but was terrified of being caught.

There was nothing sexual about his desire to crossdress. He felt that his female side was beautiful and wanted to express it. It brought him pleasure and made him feel relaxed. He took satisfaction from the look, feel and smell of women’s clothes. His transition into Leigh was fully-immersive and he ‘became’ the woman he secretly desired to be, leaving behind his male persona.

This all came to a grinding halt when his parents introduced Lee to Susan Huxtable, with whom, much to much to his parents delight, he fell in love and Lee put away his wardrobe and suppressed his desire to present enfemme. He soon had the right job with the right wife and a brace of perfect children and Leigh disappeared completely from Lee’s psyche.

That was until he got divorced and found himself living alone. Leigh emerged from hibernation and began to become a driving force in his life. He became Leigh as often as he could and was soon a member of several online support groups for crossdressers. He shied away from the meetup sites where ‘tranny-chasers’ or ‘admirers’ as they called themselves (a term they used to append some respectability to their penchant for wanting to have sex with crossdressers as far as Leigh was concerned) and only subscribed to sites that solely supported heterosexual crossdressers.

Lee knew that he was dancing with the devil. If his predilection for crossdressing became public knowledge he would lose the respect of his friends, his family and more importantly his client base and his position at Braithwaite Capital. He would effectively be ruined. His financial situation was a house of cards. Sure, he made millions but he was mortgaged to the hilt and the sum of his outgoing expenses was very close to the sum of his income stream.

Lee was very careful to protect himself and used a dedicated laptop and separate mobile phone for all of Leigh’s online activity and communication. He used a VPN, a proxy server, an encrypted browser and email program and had a powerful anti-virus program installed on those devices.

Several of the sites where he was a member held gatherings where crossdressers met socially. Anonymity was guaranteed and Lee was sorely tempted to attend because Leigh was such a powerful force in his life and she desperately craved to meet and interact with others who felt the same way that she did.

Just over a year ago Lee summoned up the courage and told his boss he was taking a week’s holiday to go to Las Vegas. He suffered through the jibes about Las Vegas being the perfect place for a rich bachelor to sew his oats, drink, gamble and fornicate with high-class hookers and Lee played along with the guys in the office pretending that is exactly what he intended to do. What he actually did was attend the WildSide event.

It was advertised as: A week-long trans pride celebration that was all about empowerment, community-building, making lifelong friends, visibility, and a whole lot of fun for the Trans and gender-expansive community. Many of his online friends were going and what he particularly liked about it was that everything happened in the same hotel venue. Leigh spent the whole week interacting with other crossdressers and finally got to meet some of her online friends.

Lee checked in under a false name using a credit card linked to a discreet account and transformed into Leigh immediately and Lee never emerged until it was time to checkout and fly home after what had been an exhilarating week. Leigh guessed that some of the attendees hooked up but she showed no interest and was never pressured. She felt safe and secure and it was the happiest week of her life, finally being able to come out of the closet and express her femininity in public.

Leigh began to attend other conventions and congregations that were similarly themed so long as they were located well away from home, the further the better. Leigh was finally happy. She surrendered her psyche to Lee to attend to the mundane things in life and reclaimed it whenever possible. At some stage Lee and Leigh’s psyches blurred and they could swap personalities seamlessly.

And all was well. Leigh’s life was almost like a fairytale until Lee was summoned for jury duty. His application to be excused was denied, despite the pressure exerted by his firm on some high-ranking judicial officials. Lee was pragmatic about it. He had been advised to set aside fourteen days for the trial and deliberations and he met with the CEO of Braithwaite Capital and told him that he was taking a few weeks off before the trial but would work remotely. His real intention was to attend a number of crossdressing conventions before the trial began because the jury would be sequestered and Leigh wasn’t sure she could spend that long without expressing herself.

That was when Leigh’s world fell apart.

William Sauber

William Sauber was Angelo DeMarko’s number two man, sometimes referred to as a ‘Consigliere’, and when he received the list of potential jurors from his contact in the courthouse he went straight to work and spared no expense. He had each of the potential jurors discreetly followed by a small team of experts in surveillance and intelligence gathering. Where possible each of the jurors domiciles was breached and thoroughly searched. Any electronic devices were cloned and tracking devices fitted to their vehicles.

Eleven of the potential jurors were immediately eliminated from William’s list of potential candidates for blackmail. They led vanilla lifestyles and had nothing to hide. The other nine were interesting and had their secrets but it soon became apparent that juror number seven, Lee Saunders, was an ideal candidate for blackmail.

Jack Dollarhyde, the leader of the surveillance team and Angelo’s Caporegime came to William with what he had found.

“The guy’s a rich asshole socialite who is one of the highest paid hedge fund managers in the city. He is the number one investment guy with Braithwaite Capital. Divorced, two kids at an Ivy League college and mortgaged up the yin-yang,” Jack and William sat in front of a computer looking at pictures of Leigh Saunders.

“You gotta admit he pulls it off extremely well. That chick is gorgeous and if I didn’t know who she was I’d hit on her. You know what? Even knowing who she is I’d fuck her. I’ve fucked plenty of chicks up the ass so what’s the difference,” Jack chuckled.

“But there’s no porn? No pictures of her having sex? No email or text messages even implying that she’s promiscuous?” William ignored Jack’s indecorous comments.

Neither of the men consciously realised that they were referring to Leigh using feminine pronouns.

“Doesn’t matter. If we were to show these pictures to his wife and kids, his asshole friends, his associates and his boss at Braithwaite Capital and more importantly his clients, he’d be fucked. He’s vulnerable,” Jack used masculine pronouns when referring to Lee.

“Not vulnerable enough. People are more forgiving and more tolerant than you think. Threatening to drag him out of the closet might scare him but not enough to do what we want him to do,” William was thinking hard about how to apply sustainable pressure on Lee Saunders.

“Well the pictures were all taken at home or at legitimate social gatherings with no hint of sexual activity. There are a few cheesecake shots here and there but nothing provocative. That is unless you think a forty year old man wearing nylons, high heels and makeup and calling himself a woman named Leigh is provocative,” Jack chuckled.

“What if we do get pictures and even video of Leigh in flagrante delicto?” William pondered.

“In fucking what?” Jack hated it when William used big words and complex terminology as much as William hated Jack calling him Bill.

“What if we get imagery of Leigh having sex with men?” William explained.

“How do we do that?” Jack was perplexed but only momentarily.

“I know! We kidnap her and force her to have sex and film it. No one is going to forgive that rich, uptight asshole for dressing up like a woman and sucking cock or bending over and taking it up the Hershey Highway. Not the ex, not the kids, not the asshole friends and the asshole boss and the asshole clients,” Jack said congratulating himself for what was really William’s idea.

“Lee’s on a break from work before the trial and has been attending freak conventions. If we grab him now we should have plenty of time to make it work,” Jack added.

“I know. I’ve read everything you brought me on Lee Saunders. Get a team to take him the day after tomorrow. I’ll get everything set up at the Long Island safehouse. Bring everything Leigh owns: the clothes, the makeup, the wigs, the shoes… all of the things she keeps secreted in that closet hidden away. Don’t bring any of Lee’s masculine clothing or accoutrements,” William said.

“From the moment she wakes up at the safehouse until the moment she leaves, Leigh Saunders is going to be Galatea to my Pygmalion,” William smiled to himself.

More big words and complex terminology, Jack thought.

“I’m on it Bill,” was what he actually replied.

“Let’s get Angelo in here and brief him,” William replied… he hated being called Bill.

The Abduction

Lee Saunders didn’t even feel the fine needle enter his vein as it delivered the powerful drug that anesthetised him, sending him into a deeper sleep than he was already in. Jack Dollarhyde and his crew had already been inside the apartment once before when they cloned his laptop and mobile phone and found the hidden closet with all of Leigh’s accoutrements. The alarm system was sophisticated but no match for their tech guy who defeated it in a few seconds.

Whilst two of the crew manhandled Lee into the passenger seat of his Lamborghini the remainder packed up the entire contents of the secret closet and loaded it into a nondescript van along with his work and personal devices. They left the place spotless so that when Lee’s service came to clean the apartment nothing would look out of place. A typed note left on the marble countertop of the kitchen printed on the expensive stationery that Lee kept in his study advised the maid that he had gone away and wouldn’t be back until the trial date. With his car gone, his apartment locked up and those that mattered aware that Lee was taking a sabbatical before the trial, there was nothing to arouse suspicion regarding his absence.

Lee awoke in a satin-sheeted king-sized bed. Someone had dressed him in a the pink peignoir and matching panties. Leigh wore garments like these to bed when she was attending crossdressing gatherings but she knew that something was wrong immediately. Lee was in a strange bed in a strange room and the aftereffects of the sedative made him feel groggy. Lee knew that he was not at a crossdressing conclave although the room he was in resembled a hotel room.

“Good morning Leigh. Get up, get showered and shaved and put on your makeup. There are some nylons and high heels laid out for you to wear with the peignoir and you will soon be visited by Mister Bigelow who will begin your education. I know that you have many questions and some of them will be answered but for now just be a good a girl and do as you are told,” the disembodied voice came from a speaker mounted in the ceiling.

Lee looked up at the speaker and the camera lens mounted beside it and thought that he was dreaming or having a nightmare. Lee sometimes had nightmares where he was at work or in a restaurant or other public place whilst dressed as Leigh, surrounded by colleagues and family who were laughing at him but whilst this was surreal, it was no dream.

Lee was an intelligent man and realised that whoever had taken him had carefully planned his abduction. He had not been randomly snatched. Lee had been professionally kidnapped. Lee also knew that the act was somehow related to his crossdressing and the first thought that entered his head was BLACKMAIL. Lee had attended a lecture sponsored by his firm, given by a professional kidnap for ransom negotiator and he had offered the following advice to the audience in the event of a kidnapping:

Stay calm as panic can cloud your judgment and lead to poor decision-making. Observe your surroundings and quickly take stock of your environment. Note any details that could help authorities and pay attention to the number of kidnappers, their appearance, and any weapons they may have. Comply with demands, as resisting or trying to escape prematurely can escalate the situation and put you in greater danger. If possible, try to establish a rapport with your captors. Humanising yourself can make it harder for them to harm you. Use their names if you know them, and try to engage in conversation to build a connection.

Lee made his way to the bathroom and peed. He noticed that the bathroom also had a camera, speaker and microphone mounted in one corner of the ceiling and figured that he was being constantly watched and filmed. But now was not the time for modesty. The bathroom was fitted out nicely with quality accessories and towels. There were unopened bathroom requisites and Lee complied with the first of the directions. Lee had naturally fine, blonde hair and was one of those people who was lucky enough to have very little facial and body hair but he used the razor and shaving cream to whisk away the few hairs that had sprouted overnight. He brushed his teeth, used the mouthwash and took a shower.

Lee left the bathroom and stood in front of a very nice vanity. All of Leigh’s cosmetics were laid out along with her styling accessories. The drawers were filled with her lingerie, her complete wardrobe was hanging up in a large armoire. Her three custom ‘Wigs By Vanity’ on their wigstands, her high heels arranged neatly on the shoe rack. She noticed immediately that there was not a single item of Lee’s male clothing. Whoever had taken Lee didn’t want him. They wanted Leigh.

Ok… She would comply as per the advice given by hostage negotiator. Lee dropped the towel that had been wrapped around his waist and sat on the bed. As soon as Lee slipped his feet into the toes of the fleshtone Walford sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, Leigh’s consciousness slipped into Lee’s psyche. Leigh took over and would not relinquish control until she was released by the kidnappers. To some extent it was the same experience that occurred whenever she went to WildSide or any similar event. Leigh’s feminine ego had firm control from the moment of arrival until the moment of departure.

She slipped into the nylons and hitched up the pink satin panties that had been laid out, then she put the pink peignoir back on, tossing the panties she had worn to bed on the floor. She slipped her feet into the high heels and sat down at the vanity and began putting on her makeup.

“I think the blonde shoulder-length would look nice,” the voice startled Leigh but she would soon get used it.

After spending nearly half an hour perfecting her makeup Leigh carefully removed the high quantity, thick-haired, expertly weft, luxurious, perma-teased platinum blonde wig from the wigstand. It was part of the ‘Ultimate Vanity’ collection and Leigh shook it out, brushed it, adjusted the straps and carefully placed it on her head. Her transformation was complete.

“Stand up for us Leigh and give us a pirouette so we can see how beautiful you look,” the voice sounded almost friendly but condescending.

Leigh did as she was told, facing one of the ceiling-mounted cameras after her twirl. It was not lost on her that voice had said ‘we’, so there was more than one person watching her.

What the speaker announced next chilled her to the bone.

“Mister Bigelow is going to enter the room now and when he does you are to get to your knees and fellate him,” the voice said coldly.

What followed was her first taste of the taser and after that she complied with every order, every time. It didn’t take her long to become fully submissive and compliant.

Leigh fell into a routine: get up and get presentable. Sometimes the ‘talking box’ told her what to wear, sometimes she was left to her own devices. During the mornings she took her spin class whilst watching an inspirational video linked to the stationary bike. She enjoyed the illusion of cycling along a country road. Other than that she had no control over the television other than the volume control and mute functions. In the evening it showed pornography for several hours of every evening, all of it crossdresser themed.

The talking box would advise her when Mister Bigelow was arriving for his first blowjob of the day, usually just after breakfast, then sometime in the afternoon and again in the evening. After awhile the blowjobs just became routine, at first she detested them, then they became mundane but after she became accustomed to them she began to experiment with her technique. She duped herself into thinking this was just to get the task over with as quickly as possible but as she became better, and the silent Mister Bigelow responded to her ministrations, either by grunting, gasping or placing his hands gently on her head, she realised something.

Some of the power that Mister Bigelow had over Leigh transferred to her. She could edge him endlessly, bringing him to the point of orgasm then backing off, feeling the disappointment and anticipation radiate from him. She could make him orgasm quickly by using her tongue and lips on the most sensitive areas of his penis whilst gently caressing his scrotum. When she was fellating Mister Bigelow she was in control and this changed her thinking. She began to look forward to the sessions. Was she not providing the same service that women gave to men as a matter of course? This somehow accentuated her femininity.

Even when Mister Bigelow extracted his penis from her mouth and wiped the final dribbles of his spend into her makeup it no longer disgusted her. It had become part of the ritual.

But by day four something else changed. Leigh started to become sexually excited herself and although she tried her best to disguise it, on the fourth afternoon she actually orgasmed whilst fellating him.

Leigh’s resignation, acceptance and finally her anticipation and gratification was not lost on William Sauber. He also noticed other behaviour in Leigh that signalled her accedence. On the second day she had painstakingly rearranged her cosmetics on the vanity to her liking and then done the same with her wardrobe. She taken down and carefully coiffed her wigs. She carefully considered what to wear, ensuring her heels and accessories complimented her outfit. She had stopped yelling at the cameras, demanding answers. She even rearranged the furniture in the room to suit her tastes. She seemed to have accepted her fate and was waiting patiently for the answers to her questions, which she guessed would be revealed soon enough.

“Ok, we got plenty of video of her sucking Mister Bigelow’s cock. Is that enough to blackmail her?” Jack Dollarhyde asked.

“Definitely not. In all of the other footage except for today you can tell that she is doing so under sufferance. She needs to not only be filmed having sex with men but also actively participating and enjoying it,” William explained.

“Mister Bigelow has served his purpose, I’m taking over from here,” William announced.

“Well like I said before, the clock’s ticking so get on with it. I can’t watch this shit anymore. You’re on your own,” Jack Dollarhyde got out of his seat from in front of the monitor.

“That’s fine, the cameras and mics will capture everything and I can edit it myself,” William was quite relived that he would not be being watched when he was alone with Leigh.

The Dinner Date

William had studied the pictures and video that Leigh had taken of herself at the crossdressing conventions and in the privacy of her home that she had downloaded onto her personal laptop. He was amazed by Leigh’s transformation, elegance and style. She was at least as beautiful if not more so than the women William had dated. She had poise, grace and charm and although she exuded sensuality she was prim in her actions. It would be William’s job to change that; to turn her raw sensuality into sexuality through tangible actions. He was quite looking forward to it. He leaned forward and pressed the talk button on the mic.

“Tonight I will be joining you for dinner. Wear something nice, I quite like the red Valentino satin evening gown but I will leave the choice up to you,” William spoke into the microphone.

“What about Mister Bigelow?” Leigh looked up at the camera.

“He won’t be joining us. I’m taking over your education from now on. I’ll see soon,” the talking box responded.

Leigh tried her hardest to suppress a smile. She was finally going to meet someone who was in charge and hopefully find out what this was all about. She looked up at the camera and nodded. She took another spin class to release the nervous energy coursing through her body and as she rode she made a mental list of questions to ask the owner of the disembodied voice. She reviewed the advice that the kidnap for ransom negotiator had provided during his lecture. She summarised them as follows: stay calm, pay attention to the number of and the appearance of her kidnappers, comply with demands, try to establish a rapport and humanise herself by engaging in conversation and try to build a connection.

It would be easy to fly into a rage and demand to know why she had been taken, why she was forced to give oral sex to the stoic, boorish, behemothic Mister Bigelow. She would temper her anger and try to use her feminine wiles to extract the information she wanted. Leigh had been hit on often enough at the crossdressing conventions she attended to know that men found her desirable and she was well aware of her raw sensuality. It was time to put it to good use.

She climbed off the bike and went to the bathroom and showered, taking her time; plucking any errant hairs that had sprung up on her face and body of which there were few. She put on a robe and laid out her clothes, selecting the red Valentino evening gown as requested. She would wear a pair of full-cut lace trimmed red satin-lycra blend panties over her sheer-to-the-waist shimmery tan Wolford pantyhose to defeat the curse of VPL and help keep her tucked. The red Christian Louboutin So Kate pumps would match perfectly with the dress.

She dithered with idea of a brassiere. She had her silicon ‘chicken fillet’ cup-inserts that would provide some shape if she wore a strapless brassiere but she decided to go ‘au naturel’. The dress was low cut front and back and had a side-split from waist to hem. She would be showing plenty of skin and leg and wearing prosthesis tits would just spoil the aesthetic. The mystery man knew what she was. He had been watching her for four days so why bother?

Leigh sat at the vanity and took her time perfecting her makeup: smoky eyeliner and mascara, deep plum eyeshadow and of course her bold red Maybelline Superstay lipstick, which the man she was about to meet had conditioned her to refer to as ‘slut red’. She rouged her cheeks a little to emphasise her high cheekbones. When she was finished she dressed and sat back down to put on her brunette ‘Cindy Crawford’ wig. The platinum blonde would have been the obvious choice but that had become her ‘blowjob’ wig and she didn’t want the mystery man to see her wearing that hair and recall her servicing Mister Bigelow.

She styled the human-hair ‘Cindy’, carefully brushing and blow drying the thick voluminous tresses and then placed it on her head over the wigcap. The perfectly coiffed hair had plenty of height at the crown and the strands cascaded into flowing voluminous tresses, with soft inward curls at their end. The tresses created rounded waves with honeyed highlights that scattered around her face and brightened Leigh’s complexion. She accessorised with a gold necklace, matching bracelets and drop earrings. She wore a simple gold band on her right ring finger. Leigh doused herself with Dior Poison and stood in front of the full-length mirror and was delighted with the result. She had never looked better.

William didn’t watch Leigh dress. He wanted it to be a surprise and savoured the anticipation of their forthcoming meet while he ruminated on what exactly he would tell her. He knew that she would have many questions. He needed to tell her enough to keep her calm and complicit but not enough to frighten her. It would be a balancing act.

Leigh couldn’t help but smile when the man behind the ‘talking box’ tapped on the door before entering. It’s not as if she could ask ‘who’s there?’ or deny him entry. She was his prisoner after all, but she appreciated the gesture and was still smiling when William Sauber entered the room.

William is immediately taken by Leigh’s presence. She’s tall, elegant and radiates a sophisticated beauty. She commands the room, standing at around five-seven but looks taller in her heels, her long legs accentuating her height. She’s wide in the shoulders and hips but slim waisted and has an ample but pert backside. She’s flat chested but that doesn’t distract from her overall allure. The satin sheath evening gown displays her assets admirably and William is glad that she chose to wear the red Valentino and wonders fleetingly if the choice was an act of contrition or simply her choosing a dress that suited the occasion.

Her face is a thing of beauty. She is fair skinned with sculpted cheekbones, an elegant long straight nose, a wide mouth with full lips and a tapered chin. Her sparkling green eyes are alluring. Her makeup is perfect and the voluminous waves of her hair frame her face perfectly. A waft of her perfume dances across the space separating them and stirs his libido.

William knows who and what Leigh is. He has seen her sans makeup and naked often enough and has witnessed her metamorphosis from handsome man into beautiful woman but seeing her in the flesh is breathtaking. William has been watching Ted Lasso in the little free time he has and he thinks Leigh bears more than a passing resemblance to the British actress Hannah Waddingham.

Whilst William is assessing Leigh she is assessing him. He is tall, mid-forties, with a slim but muscular build, a handsome face and thick, wavy, shoulder-length dark hair streaked with grey. He looks dashing in his slim-fit dark-blue suit and exudes confidence. His lips are full and sensual and his dark eyes glower. He’s the kind of man who always has a hint of five o’clock shadow and Leigh is surprised that one of her first thoughts is to wonder what it might be like to kiss that wide sensuous mouth.

“Did you bring your stun gun?” Leigh asked.

“Let’s not spoil things by getting off on the wrong foot Leigh. I am not armed and I’d say we are equally matched if it came to a tussle but there is nowhere for you to go. In fact I’d probably quite enjoy tussling with you but why don’t we be genteel?” William gives Leigh a brilliant smile and she smiles back at him.

She remembers what she needs to do: be compliant, establish a rapport and build a connection.

There is another rap on the door and Mister Bigelow enters with a room service trolley which he parks in the centre of the room before departing. As usual he is silent.

“Shall we dine? I had the chef prepare something special for us,” William takes the plates off the trolley and arranges them on the small dining table along with the glasses, napery and cutlery.

They both look at the steak knives which would make a lethal weapon and then they both laugh. A truce has been undertaken and William pulls back Leigh’s chair and attends to her while she seats herself. The split in her dress opens when she sits and he can’t help but admiring the expanse of shimmery-clad thigh Leigh displays before she drags her chair forward.

“I’m William Sauber and very pleased to finally meet you,” William places Leigh’s napkin in her lap and pours her a glass of Australian Penfolds Grange Hermitage which Leigh knows retails for around a thousand dollars a bottle.

He seats himself across from her and pours himself a glass and raises it. They chink glasses like civilised people do and take a sip of the delicious wine, then William removes the silver dish covers from the plates to reveal a sumptuous serving of venison in a red wine sauce and sautéed vegetables.

“Let’s talk while we eat. I’m sure you have many questions,” William flicks his napkin and drops it in his lap.

“Where am I?” Leigh asks as she begins to eat, forking some vegetables into her mouth.

“You are at what is sometimes referred to as a safehouse on a small estate not far from the city. The house is owned by my boss Angelo DeMarko but even a forensic accountant would find it impossible to link this property to him,” William cuts into his venison.

“If you look around you will notice this room has been customised to look like an upscale hotel room. It is modelled on a deluxe king room located in the Omni New Haven Hotel where you are attending a nearby transgender and crossdressing convention and mixer event,” William dips his venison into the sauce and continues.

“You are registered under the false name on the credit card linked to the discreet account that you always use when you attend such events. Your Lamborghini is parked in the underground carpark of the hotel and a man with a similar build and facial features as you checked in the day you arrived here. There will be security footage of you arriving and checking in. Of course the man impersonating you will have his face partially obscured by a ballcap but for anyone tracing your footsteps there will be enough evidence, including your fingerprints and DNA in the hotel room, to put you there,” William chewed his venison and savoured the flavour.

“You have gone to great lengths to kidnap me and allay suspicion that I am missing,” Leigh was astounded at what William had had told her but she tried to hide her surprise.

“Yes Mister Dollarhyde is quite proficient at his job. Try the venison Leigh, it is wonderful,” William takes a sip of wine.

Leigh begins to cut into her venison and glances up at William and looks him is the eye as she askes her next question.

“Why have I been kidnapped? I know that it’s not just to provide oral sex for that mute human refrigerator you call Mister Bigelow. You have me living full-time as Leigh and you are recording everything I do. It’s a very elaborate setup for simple extortion,” Leigh takes a bite of the venison and it is just as good as William said it would be.

“I saw the recognition in your eyes when I said Angelo DeMarko. You are juror number seven in the jury pool for his forthcoming trial. You will be selected to sit on the jury and you will ensure that a not guilty verdict is rendered or at least the jury is hung,” William meets Leigh’s stare.

Leigh nearly chokes on her venison. It suddenly dawns on her why she is here and it all makes sense. She swallows the meat and washes it down with a sip of wine.

“Ok. I’m an intelligent person. You have been to my apartment and as you have access to my bank accounts and credit cards and I presume the pictures of and video of me as Leigh and will have strung together enough evidence to out me. I can see your intent. But what if it backfires?” Leigh pauses to take a drink.

“What if I say fuck it, out me to the world. I am a gender dysphoric person who lives secretly as a woman sometimes. You will even have the video of me fellating Mister Bigelow; but when I tell the police that I was forced to do so, a forensic examination of the footage will reveal my disdain for what I was forced to do,” Leigh smiles balefully at William.

“Oh, I’m very aware of that. Except for that last blowjob. There was no coercion there. I could see the hunger and enjoyment on your face. I have witnessed your sexual desire bloom. Besides, we haven’t finished with you. Before I let you go I am going to have footage of you not only actively engaging in sexual congress with a man; I’m going to have footage of you initiating it,” William returns the baleful smile.

“You could possibly survive being outed as a closet crossdresser but your family, friends and business associates will be horrified to see you having sex with a man whilst you are dressed as a woman. You can’t risk that getting out there,” William takes another bite.

Leigh considered her situation. She now knew why she had been kidnapped, knew the names of her kidnappers and established a rapport with William. She needed to bide by what the KFR negotiator had told the audience at his presentation. She needed to remain calm and complicit until she was released and then she could go to the authorities or to a reputable private detective agency who could negotiate on her behalf and try to reason with Angelo DeMarko. Time was on her side. Lee was due to attend court for voir dire in about week, (she had lost track of time) so she needed to go along with her kidnappers and get released with enough time in hand to take the necessary actions.

“Isn’t that more than a little oxymoronic: you are going to force me to enjoy sex and film it?” Leigh asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“You are more than a little complicit already. The footage I have of you fellating Mister Bigelow this afternoon shows that you are willing and in fact I would say revelling in the act. The look on your face is blissful and ecstatic. The way you manipulate Mister Bigelow’s penis and then tease him with your mouth, showing no signs of distress. That little red leather skirt is far too short and you can clearly see your erection and when Mister Bigelow finishes and you get up off your knees you can clearly see your semen staining the front of your panties,” William smiles back at her.

Leigh blushes.

“A Pavlovian response perhaps. I’m being conditioned. You are showing me crossdresser pornography every day and forcing me to fellate Mister Bigelow. There is no other form of sexual release. I can’t even masturbate because you are watching me twenty-four, seven,” Leigh snaps defensively but she knows that she is on shaky ground.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks, but let’s not spoil our dinner by arguing. We will finish our meal and get comfortable and discuss things further,” William extends a hand a across the table and takes Leigh’s hand in his.

Her first instinct is to retract her hand. Her second response is to flinch in anticipation of pain. She has never had a man touch her intimately before and she is William Sauber’s prisoner after all.

But William gently strokes her hand with his fingertips and it actually feels quite soothing and dare she think it… pleasurable. Leigh knows that she needs to carefully assess everything that is happening to her so she can recite it later. She smiles at William and touches his fingers gently with hers and then she retracts her hand and continues eating.

They finish their meal and the wine and conversation is polite. William brings Leigh up to speed on current events outside the world of her cell. He types something into his phone and Mister Bigelow reappears and clears away everything and leaves behind another bottle of Grange and two fresh glasses.

“That will be all for the evening Mister Bigelow,” William says and Mister Bigelow is his usual taciturn self and simply nods.

“Shall we retire to the sofa?” William extends his hand and leads Leigh to the sofa and sits down beside her.

He pours wine and they drink a glass and then he pours another. Leigh is feeling a little lightheaded when William leans in and kisses her softly on the lips. The kiss is almost chaste, just a light brushing of the lips. He inhales her exotic perfume and is tempted to press his luck and use a little tongue but this is just a tester to see how Leigh will react. No need to force himself on her.

Leigh turns her face away and blushes.

Leigh is a little startled but not overly surprised. This man has made his intent clear, although she thought it would be the humourless Mister Bigelow who would be pressing his advances on her not William. As brief as the kiss was, it is quite comforting. It is the first time she has been kissed by a man and except for getting on her knees three times a day to fellate Mister Bigelow it is the first intimate contact she’d had since being kidnapped.

Maybe it was the wine, it was certainly the conditioning. Leigh had never equated crossdressing with physical intimacy before she was kidnapped. Sure, she had kissed and cuddled other crossdressers when she attended various functions but she had always gently declined any attempt at carnality. She had masturbated sometimes when she was dressed as Leigh and had taken a passing interest in crossdresser pornography whilst doing so but this was different. Different even to dropping to her knees and fellating the silent behemoth that was Mister Bigelow.

William is also surprised. He has taken more than a professional interest in Leigh’s progress and has begun to wonder what it might be like to be in her presence. His original plan was to have Mister Bigelow progress from fellatio to coitus, even if that meant coercion but he decided to take on that role himself. He found that being in Leigh’s company was strangely arousing. He never thought of her as Lee, only as Leigh. She had beguiled him from afar and now that he was sitting beside her he was captivated by her.

William places a single finger on Leigh’s chin and turns her face toward him. She does not resist but her pretty green eyes are filled with confusion. His finger strokes her cheek and then brushes the outline of her full lips and she looks at him imploringly. Does she want him to stop or does she want him to kiss her again?

Only one way to find out.

He leans in and presses his lips to hers and kisses her chastely again but this time his lips linger on hers and Leigh does not turn her face away or protest. He presses a little harder and Leigh gasps. Her breath is sweet with the chocolate mouse they ate for desert and the fruity Australian shiraz they have drunk. William puts his arm around her and still the kiss lingers.

Leigh is confused. She has of course observed other men and has assessed their degree of handsomeness, persona and comportment but never with a view to their suitability as a suitor. There is no doubt that William is handsome, dashing and personable. His masculinity somehow exaggerates and substantiates her femininity. She has never felt more like a woman as she does now with William’s arm around her and his lips pressed to hers.

She knows that she shouldn’t be doing this. She knows that she is falling into his trap and doing so easily but she opens her lips just a little. She lies to herself and tells herself that she is just trying to take a sip of air but when the tip of William’s tongue slides over her lips, the tip of her own tongue greets it. William takes her in his arms and kisses her deeply and Leigh allows him to do so. She’s not initiating anything. She being compliant because she is his prisoner.

These are the thoughts that are rolling around her head as she snuggles into William’s warm embrace and puts her arms around him.

William is justifying his actions to himself too. He’s doing this because it will provide video evidence that Leigh is responsive and a willing participant to their ardour. He is not forcing her; she is receptive. He is not doing this because he is besotted with her or because kissing her and holding her whilst enveloped in the nebular of her Dior Poison perfume is the most exotic and erotic experience he has ever experienced. His cock is erect because it’s reactive to the situation not because he desires the gorgeous woman he is currently kissing.

Similarly, the uncomfortableness that Leigh feels as her penis begins to become tumescent between her legs is because she has been denied affection for so long. It’s not the same as being face-fucked by Mister Bigelow who likes to rub his cock on her face when he’s finished using her. Leigh is only feeling concupiscent because William is being deferential to her femininity; it has nothing to do with William’s lips pressing against hers or his tongue gently probing her mouth.

The two inamoratos continue to lie to themselves as they embrace and smooch like teenagers on a first date; both of them feeling an awakening that could lead to dangerous ground but both unable to acknowledge their true feelings.

Leigh realises that she is falling into William’s trap. He has told her that he intends to seduce her and make her his willing supplicant. It will all be caught on video and used to blackmail her.

She breaks the kiss and whispers in his ear.

“I’m not going to have sex with you William. Not unless you force me to do so,” her breath is like butterfly wings caressing his ear.

William smiles at her openly and once again Leigh is taken by his handsomeness. If she has to endure ravishment at least it will be with a man she finds physically attractive and who has a modicum of grace and civility. ‘More self justification,’ her amygdala, the part of the brain that justifies rash behaviour, tells her.

“No you are not, but I’m going to keep kissing you and caressing you unless you push me away,” the twinkle in William’s eyes only makes him look more charming.

William kisses her again and Leigh makes no attempt to fight him off. Their kisses become more impassioned and they hold each other closer. When William pulls Leigh down onto the divan so that they are lying side by side she doesn’t protest, even when he puts his hand on her ass to adjust her position. In fact his strong hand on her buttock elicits a plush snugness that is both appealing and strangely exciting.

Their kisses become more impassioned as each of them surrenders to their desires. Leigh excuses her behaviour by circumspection: subconsciously chanting the mantra: stay calm, comply with demands, establish a rapport and build a connection.

William justifies his actions: we have to get pictures and even video of Leigh in flagrante delicto. The very words he spoke to Jack Dollarhyde.

They are both lying to themselves.

Leigh can feel William’s erection pressing into her belly through their clothing. An erection that she has invoked. An erection that her beauty, her sensuousness, her sexuality, her femininity has induced. His lips are tender but demanding, his tongue delicate but coercive, his fingers caress her buttock, the satin gown slithering across her satin-lycra blend panties and shimmery pantyhose, coaxing freshets of delight to scutter down her legs and across her haunches. Her cock is achingly tumescent and longing to be freed from its satin prison.

William feels Leigh’s lips part for him, her tongue flitters against his, her body moulds herself to him. He senses her breathlessness and her ardour. The satin gown feels like gossamer against his fingertips. He can hear her whimpers and the slithering sounds her dress makes as he slides the fabric along her panty-clad buttocks. His cock is straining against his trousers, aching to be released. He is not trying to disguise the fact that he is rubbing it against her belly.

He shucks out of his jacket and kicks off his shoes, momentarily breaking their embrace, sensing Leigh’s disappointment when he does so, and she welcomes him back by wrapping her arms around him, kissing him deeply and drapes one leg over his. The split in her gown opens exposing her thigh all the way up to her waist.

William’s hand goes to Leigh’s thigh and he begins to caress the expanse of flesh he finds there, skimming his fingertips down to her knee then slowly back up her leg to the top of her thigh. He pauses to further explore the sensitive area behind her knee and at the top of her thigh, his fingers fondle the crease where her thigh joins her torso. He feels Leigh squirm, not with trepidation but with yearning desire. Her coltish legs are well-formed, the hours spent spinning have paid dividends, her expensive nylons feel sleek and slithery to touch.

Leigh begins to tremble when William strokes her leg. He is the first man to touch her so intimately. She discounts the doctors and the masseuse who have manipulated her limbs for therapeutic reasons. William’s touch is explorative, sensual and delicate. His touch lights up the nerves in her flesh as her diaphanous pantyhose caress her flesh wherever he touches it. Leigh always wears nylons, either pantyhose or stockings. She loves the perception of the translucent hosiery on her legs. Her pantyhose are always sheer-to-the-waist, her stockings are always fifteen denier or finer. Leigh has never understood why modern women eschew hosiery. Her first ever item of female apparel was a pair of her sister’s discarded pantyhose and she fell in love with them the first time that she put them on.

William’s hand slides all the way inside the slit in her dress, exploring the sheer expanse of her pantyhose that covers her belly and then the lace trim on the waist and legholes of her full-cut satin-lycra blend panties. He glides the material of her underwear across the panty part of her hose and Leigh is delighted by the sensations radiating from her groin but she also knows this is where she should stop him or at least protest.

Then William does something daring.

His hand slips between her legs and he gently caresses her swollen member lying along her perineum, trapped in layers of satin, lycra and nylon and Leigh is so overwhelmed that she nips William’s lip as she yelps with surprise and delight. He cossets her distended member, his fingertip running along the length of her imprisoned phallus. He doesn’t think what he is doing is ‘gay’, he would never touch a man’s penis but the appendage he is fondling trapped between Leigh’s legs is her sex organ and he wants her to feel the same pleasure that she is effectuating in him.

Once again the alarm bells ring in Leigh’s consciousness. She should stop what is happening right here and right now or force William to use aggression, which she is almost certain he wont. So far he has been attentive, gentle and, dare she think it, loving. Then William quickly and boldly slides his hand inside her undergarments and frees her distended appendage and lays it flat against her belly. It is still trapped in her nylons and panties but is no longer discomforting and Leigh relaxes and allows her testes to descend from her inguinal canals and fill her scrotum. As the drag queens are want to say… she is untucked.

This development has not jaded William’s ardour. He kisses her deeply while he strokes her cock through the gauzy fabric and feels a globule of pre-ejaculate ooze through her panties and her cock trembles a little as Leigh sighs longingly into his mouth and her leg chafes against his body. Leigh abandons any pretence of decorum, reticence and resistance and she begins to unbutton William’s shirt. If she is to be violated or seduced (her mind wrangles with the right word to use given her complicity) she wants to feel Willam’s body against hers. When William unbuckles his belt, unzips his fly and kicks off his trousers she makes no attempt to stop him.

William is finally naked and is lying on top of Leigh. The side-split in her dress is wide open and his cock his pressing against hers. Their kisses have not moderated any, in fact they are passionately pressing their lips together while their tongues explore each others mouths. They are no longer communicating vocally except to gasp, whimper and yelp whenever one of them does something to the other that invokes a spike in their plateaux of lust, need and rapture.

William can feel Leigh’s cock throbbing inside her panties as he presses his aching penis against it. Both cock’s are leaking copious dribbles of pre-seminal fluid. William slides his cock along the girth of Leight’s distended member relishing the feel of the spongy mass shrouded in satin and nylon. His own cock pulses and judders as electrifying sparklets of pleasure erupt from the pleasure sensors in his turgid sensitive flesh.

Leigh is enraptured with the sensation of William’s cock gliding across her steely appendage. The sensation of William’s thick prong pressing against her aching organ, fretting the slippery satin of her panties against the diaphanous nylon of her pantyhose is the most decadent sexual experience she has ever experienced. It is almost overwhelming being fully feminised: bewigged, her face beautified by cosmetics, her body shrouded in the satin sheath dress, her legs encased in the sheerest of hose, her genitals swathed in satin, enveloped in a cloud of perfume, with this handsome man astride her, lusting for her, kissing her, cosseting her.

She knows the French word for their carnality is frottage. She has witnessed it in the pornography she is bombarded with nightly but never dreamed how wonderful it might feel. She intuitively wraps her nylon-clad legs around William’s torso and locks her hands around his neck and lifts her buttocks to meet his thrusts. She spurs him on; raking her high heels along his flanks. She is close to extremis and aching for release.

When release comes it is spontaneous and synchronous. They orgasm simultaneously, holding each other tight, pressing their bodies together, their cocks fretting against each other, Leigh’s silken-shrouded legs scissoring against William’s body. Their spunk erupts and comingles. Leigh’s semen bursts forth through her panties soaking the fabric with her jism. Their kisses are frenetic as they grind against each other, eliciting every scintilla of carnal pleasure from each others bodies.

They hold onto each other long after they have climaxed; kissing, canoodling, enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed together, their tongues intertwined, their slowly softening cocks pressed together in a swamp of cooling semen.

To be continued…

Ace In The Hole - Chapter 2

Author:

Michele Nylons

Caution:

Audience Rating:

EXPLICIT CONTENT

Publication:

Final Chapter

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Chapter Two – Endgame

Post-Coital Regret?

The reality of what had just happened bore down on Leigh when William climbed off her, grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom. Of course everything had been filmed and that meant her kidnappers had more footage of her actively participating and enjoying sex. That wasn’t the issue. Leigh had pretty much resigned herself to complying with the kidnappers demands. What had surprised her was that she not only enjoyed having sex with William, she had relished it.

Fellating Mister Bigelow was a chore she endured so that she wouldn’t be punished. Sure, she had become proficient at it and even looked forward to it. She put that down a Pavlovian response and she even excused herself for ejaculating the last time she had suckled him. But what she had just done with William Sauber was not a response to conditioning. She had been a willing, spirited, participant and in fact had encouraged him; spurred him on even.

She had crossed the Rubicon (an idiom she sometimes used) when she began to return William’s kisses and embraces. Was she one of those fetishic crossdressers she had met who equated crossdressing with sex? No… it was more than that. Leigh had been in control of Lee’s psyche since she was kidnapped. Her male alter ego was nowhere to be found. The sex she had just had with William Sauber was responsive to her need to substantiate her femininity as well as, she had to admit, to satiate her desires.

Anyway, now was not the time for contemplation. She was lying the sofa with her gown open and her panties drenched in semen.

William came out of the bathroom and came over to the couch carrying a handtowel which he handed to her and Leigh blushed as she wiped at the puddles of jism. It should have been a very embarrassing and humiliating situation but it wasn’t because William leaned down and kissed her.

“I'm leaving now but I will be back tomorrow and we will continue to explore our relationship,” he whispered and kissed the side of her mouth softly.

‘Relationship? Is that what William Sauber thinks this is? Alarm bells rang in Leigh’s subconscious.

“How long William? How much longer are you going to keep me?” Leigh looked up at him and William could see the concern in her eyes.

“Not much longer Leigh. We are making progress. Another day or two at most. I have left you something in the bathroom. Goodnight my gorgeous, special girl,” William kissed her on the mouth and then he left.

The enormity of what had just happened washed over Leigh. Yes she was being held captive but what had just occurred had nothing to do with her being a prisoner. She could claim that she was just being compliant and self-preserving but would it stand up to scrutiny? Anyone viewing the video of her and William would see that Leigh was as complicit and salacious as he was. There were no threats. No force. Leigh had surrendered without a fight.

She got up off the sofa, carefully holding the Valentino gown open and away from her groin which was still damp with semen. She kicked off her heels and extricated herself from the garment and padded to the bathroom in her underwear where she cleaned up, took a shower, dressed in her peignoir and retired to bed where she had a fitful night’s sleep.

One of the reasons her sleep was disturbed was because of the something that William Sauber had left in the bathroom. It was at eyelevel, sitting on the handbasin, when Leigh sat on the toilet to pee. She recognised it immediately and knew what it was and what it was used for. The bright red pliable bulb with the hard white plastic nozzle was a douche and it served only one purpose. In some of the ribald conversations she’d had with other crossdressers at the conventions she attended they sometimes referred to douching and the absolute stipulation that one should use the device repeatedly ‘until the water runs clean’.

Leigh was uncomfortable when her ‘sisters’ steered the conversation towards sex and would usually excuse herself but she’d heard enough to know what some crossdressers and their admirers got up to in the bedroom. Had she not herself become an accomplished fellatrix? Had she not, just this very evening, engaged in foreplay and frottage? She was no longer a novice when it came to sex but the thought of penetrative sex was abhorrent. How could sticking something up your keister equate to pleasure?

The next day the ‘talking box’ remained ominously silent and she saw Mister Bigelow only when he delivered her breakfast and lunch. The television screen remained blank except for when she climbed on the peloton when it screened the usual inspirational videos. She had all day to think about what William intended to do to her and whenever she went into the bathroom the little red douche drew her gaze like an accusatory instrument of torture.

The talking box finally spoke in what Leigh guessed was the early evening as it was several hours after lunch, which, along with breakfast, consisted of high-fibre ingredients with a small serve of lean protein and she realised her daily diet might not only be aimed at keeping her slim but also keeping her ‘regular’. She shivered at the thought.

“I would quite like to see you in that sexy secretary getup. You know the one I mean,” the disembodied voice boomed through the speakers startling Leigh after a day of silence.

Leigh liked to believe that she could detect the low, slow, breathy, nuances of William Sauber in the phantom voice that issued her commands. He was surely watching her. She wondered who else might be watching and who had witnessed her seduction at the hands of William last night.

Leigh knew exactly what the voice was referring to regarding the ‘sexy secretary getup’. It was her above-the-knee solid black Prada pencil skirt, the white silk, long sleeve Chanel blouse and her black, four-inch heeled, Manolo Blahnik pumps.

“The fleshtone Wolford holdups will complement the look, I think, and that black bob will do nicely” the voice issued forth as if it had been reading Leigh’s mind.

“Don’t forget to use the little toy in the bathroom before you shower,” Leigh thought that she could detect sarcasm in the robotic voice but it might have been her imagination.

The talking box had been prescriptive before about what she should wear so it was not really surprising that William was dictating her fashion choices. The ensemble he had selected for her, the ‘office siren’ aesthetic, exaggerated femininity in equal parts coquette and ingénue. It was something Leigh herself would wear to the office if only she was allowed to do so.

She began to prepare herself for the evening, silently chanting the mantra: stay calm, comply with demands, establish a rapport and build a connection. She did not like using the douche but it came down to two things. One: she was being watched and she knew the penalty for non compliance. Two: if what was going to happen to her was what she thought was going to happen to her then the necessity of performing the ritual was self-evident.

“You look amazing,” William whispered when he knocked politely on the door and entered Leigh’s ‘cell’.

Leigh had no doubts that she did. The pencil skirt was snug at the waist and clung to her rounded hips and voluptuous thighs. Her long legs, clad in the sheer Wolford stockings looked amazing, her black pumps arched her feet and elongated her legs and created a more defined silhouette. This change in posture and gait was evident when Leigh strode to the door to meet William.

She had once again eschewed wearing a brassiere and her flawless flesh was visible through the sheer silk blouse. Rather than spoiling the look, her flat-chestedness emphasised the tall, slim, powerful ‘office siren’ nuance that Leigh was trying to achieve. She’d hummed the song Short Skirt/Long Jacket while she was dressing and Leigh thought that she embodied the spirit of the woman in the song who is ‘fast and thorough and sharp as a tack’ to paraphrase Cake.

Leigh stopped short of William, waiting for him to pull her into his arms and force a kiss on her before he dragged her over to the bed, pulled down her undergarments and buggered her; for she was sure that was his intent.

But William did none of those things, instead he reached out and brushed Leigh’s bangs out of her eyes and then ran his finger down her cheek and gently stroked her full lips. He could see the trepidation in her eyes. William wanted to possess this woman so badly and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

He softly kissed her keeping a distance between their bodies, as much as he wanted to pull her into his arms and ravish her. He breathed her perfume and tasted her lipstick, his cock already hard in anticipation of what he intended to do to her. He broke the kiss and looked longingly into her green eyes, enhanced by the black mascara and eyeliner. His hands followed the curve of her neck, then slid across her shoulders and down her arms, coming to rest on her hips. The distance between them had not closed.

Leigh closed it.

Her resolve to fight William and only submit when he forced himself on her disappeared when he kissed her. She recalled a saying attributed to a woman during the Victorian era when she asked her mother about what would happen to her on her wedding night: “Just lie back and think of England.” Leigh decided that was the approach she would take. She would submit but not collaborate.

Leigh took William’s hands in hers and put them around her waist and stepped into him and kissed him with unabashed passion. William had ignited something inside her that been repressed and his very presence stirred her loins. She wanted what they had yesterday: the passion, the tenderness, the gratification and contentment but not coitus. That was a bridge she did not want to cross.

Maybe if she pleased him with intimate foreplay, maybe even some fellation or frottage, William might be satisfied. It would all be recorded to be used against her anyway. She had already tacitly agreed to comply with William’s intention to collect evidence that she was willingly having sex with men. Surely he did not need to pressure her into what she considered to be the final act of debasement.

Their kisses became more impassioned and their breathing laboured as they reached for each other and cosseted each other. Leigh found William hard inside his trousers and she squeezed his appendage and bit his lip sensuously. William slid his hand under her skirt and clutched her rounded buttocks, his fingertips pressing into the transparent nylon panties that Leigh wore underneath. He raked her thighs and pushed his hand between her legs to free her swollen prick, gliding his fingers along it, feeling the outline of the firm root through the silky fabric of her panties.

Leigh’s intent was to overwhelm William with her beauty and sexuality and bring about his climax using her hands, mouth or pubis. She imagined a little frottage would be very nice, very satisfying and non-penetrative.

William began to slowly propel Leigh towards the bed rather than the sofa. He did this while kissing her, his hand under her skirt stroking her erect penis through her panties whilst she returned his kisses and squeezed his cock through his trousers. Leigh felt the edge of the bed against the back of her legs and they stopped their procession and continued to kiss and fondle each other. Leigh let go of William’s appendage and helped William take off his jacket and then she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and he cast it aside. She fumbled with his belt buckle and zip and then he dropped trou. She yanked down his undershorts exposing his magnificent specimen of manhood.

Leigh kissed him deeply and raked her fingernails along the turgid flesh of his penis, feeling William shudder and then gasp as she took him in hand and began to masturbate him. He was stroking Leigh’s cock gently but vigorously and the front of Leigh’s panties were wet with pre-ejaculate. Unbidden, Leigh dropped to her knees and removed William’s shoes and socks and helped him step out of his trousers and briefs so that he stood naked before her, his rampant organ inches from her face.

When she put her mouth to his cock William gasped and gently rested his hands on her shoulders, guiding Leigh’s lips back and forth on his throbbing cock. Leigh used her newly acquired skills and William adored the way she used her lips on his shaft whilst her tongue fettered at his glans, the tip flicking across his sensitive fraenulum. He could easily have allowed Leigh to finish him that way and he was fairly certain that was her ruse; to bring him to extremis with her mouth so that her anus remained virginal.

As much as William adored Leigh and would never hurt her, his resolve was set. He would have video of her engaging in coitus to add to the library of debauchery that he already had on file. But he also knew that his intent was selfish. He wanted to fully posses this beautiful creature. He wanted to feel himself inside her. He wanted to completely own her. He wanted to inseminate her.

To him it was not only the sexual pleasure he wanted from the act, it was an enactment of his ownership of her. Leigh would be his and his alone. William had used the services of certain courtesans who didn’t mind a little ‘derrière delight’ now and then and he knew that there were ways of consummating his desire without hurting Leigh and hopefully achieving the opposite effect. He wanted her to enjoy the experience but he realised that he would likely have to break her resolve forcefully if necessary.

While Leigh slavered at his cock on his knees before him William reached for his jacket and extracted the tube of K-Y Jelly from the pocket and tossed it on the bed. It was probably as well that Leigh couldn’t see what he was doing because he didn’t want to add to her trepidation. As much as he was enjoying Leigh's warm wet mouth attending to his penis and was certain that he would be able to achieve arousal again quickly, even if he let her finish him with her mouth, the time had come to fuck.

William reached down and placed his hands under Leigh’s armpits and eased her to her feet. He looked longingly into her eyes and kissed her and then he pushed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her and hiked up her skirt. While he kissed her he reached for the lubricant and pressed a generous dollop on his fingertips and slid his hand inside her panties. He applied the salve to her sphincter and he felt Leigh tense up but he continued. He circled her sphincter with a fingertip, massaging the spongy circular muscle, feeling it contract as Leigh clenched it tightly closed.

Leigh felt the salve being applied to her anal opening and her initial response was to clench herself tight but she continued to kiss William and relish the closeness of his body. Eventually little ripples of pleasure began to radiate from her puckered bud which surprised her. She was able to relax and William slid a finger inside her.

Leigh yelped into William’s mouth when his finger pierced her anal aperture. She shouldn’t really have been surprised but she was astonished by the suddenness of the act. Her sphincter slammed shut again but William left his finger inside her and concentrated on kissing her; not just on the mouth but on her earlobes and the hollow of her shoulder, trying to comfort her. He gently stroked her still erect cock through her panties and Leigh whimpered a little. William had his finger inside her and although it didn’t actually hurt, it felt strange and she knew his intent but his gentle kisses and his attention to her penis relaxed her.

William’s kisses and caresses achieved the desired result and when Leigh’s sphincter relaxed he began to massage her anal sheath with his fingertip. Leigh felt her sphincter once again light up with those ripples of delight. The ripples were accompanied by a deeper, more intense feeling as the synapses in her anus responded when William worked his finger slowly in and out of her tight aperture and pressed his fingertip against the walls of her anus.

“Oh my god!” Leigh groaned and her legs began to tremble and a freshet of precum erupted from her cock, wetting the front of her panties.

Leigh had never expected that being anally probed could feel so wonderful. She had guessed that anal sex must feel good for the recipient, otherwise why would the girls in the crossdresser porn she watched so willingly open their legs for their suitors? But this was just incredible. The feelings that William was inducing from an area she had always considered taboo were intensely satisfying.

William had found the firm, smooth, little walnut-sized protuberance at the front of her rectum that was her prostate. He massaged it with the tip of his finger and was delighted with Leigh’s response and decided to strike while the iron was hot so to speak. With his free hand he grabbed a pillow and slid it under the small of Leigh’s back, elevating her buttocks and then he opened her legs. Lubricating his cock whilst he continued to massage Leigh’s anus and kiss her passionately was a feat of contortionism but once he had done so he removed his finger from her anus, eased aside the gusset of her panties and nestled his swollen glans in her sphincter.

“Wait! Don’t!” Leigh looked up at him with pleading eyes filled with trepidation.

William pressed his mouth to hers and pushed, slowly impaling her on his steely manhood. He stifled Leigh’s scream as his glans opened her sphincter and drilled ever so slowly deeper inside her, his shaft filling her tight plush void. He stopped when he was fully inside her and allowed Leigh to breathe and become accustomed to fullness of his rampant organ.

The scream was an overreaction; a triggered response at being anally penetrated for the first time. Leigh had expected pain and there was… but just a little, which was soon replaced by a pleasant thrumming as William’s cock probed deeper inside her rectum. The myriad of sensitive nerve endings around her sphincter and lining her anal walls lit up and diffused rivulets of decadent pleasure. Her prostate throbbed with a deep gratifying resonance. Her cock, already erect, became fully engorged and rampant.

Leigh had no intention of lying back and thinking of England. This new and delightfully taboo experience was nothing like she had expected it to be. It was the most sexually arousing experience that Leigh had ever experienced and she intended to extract every scintilla of pleasure from the act. She could feel William’s cock throbbing inside her, his scrotum resting against her panty gusseted taint, his lips pressing on hers, his tongue lazily probing her mouth. Her whole body was afire with lust.

Leigh wrapped her arms around William’s shoulders and arched her back, lifting her legs so she could wrap them around his flanks. She clung to him and wiggled her bottom; a signal for William to proceed with her deflowerment.

“Yes,” she whispered and then she crushed her mouth against his and slid her tongue into his mouth.

William used all his concentration not to climax as his cock slowly slid into Leigh's back passage. It was tight yet yielding and clung to his shaft. Her anal sheath caressed his cock like a velvet glove. When she wiggled her bottom invitingly and whispered her complicity and wrapped her legs around his flanks, her diaphanous hose caressing his sensitive flesh, her mouth sucking his essences like a succubus, he began to slowly fuck her.

William could feel Leigh's cock pressing against his belly through her flimsy panties which were already saturated with precum. He cupped her buttocks and fucked her with long slow strokes so as not to prematurely ejaculate. Leigh raked her fingernails down his back and moaned into William's mouth as his turgid manhood began to slide in and out of her, his glans pressing on her prostate, the thick shaft stretching her sphincter as it clung to his steely weapon.

Her cock was pressed against his tight belly, her panties rubbing on her throbbing organ, her anus afire with newly discovered rapture, William’s mouth on hers, his body pressed against her. Despite her best efforts she felt her climax about to overwhelm her.

William sensed this and was also aware that he would be unable to suppress his orgasm much longer. He gripped Leigh’s soft, pliant buttocks in his hands and began to thrust his cock in and out of her velvety aperture, his climax building as the irresistible urge for release overcame him.

Leigh felt a momentous orgasm blossoming. It bloomed in her prostate, and spread along her anus to her sphincter; William’s cock sliding in and out of her eliciting a continual procession of delectable sprites of pleasure, then the sensations permeated to her engorged penis trapped in the silky prison of her panties pressing on William's hard belly.

She flooded her panties and began to shake, writhe and gyrate; lifting her buttocks to meet William’s thrusts, forcing every millimetre of William's cock inside her as she climaxed. She cried out and raked her fingernails down William’s back and scoured her heels along his flanks, spurring him on as she felt William's cock erupt inside her.

William pulled her close to him and drove his cock all the way inside Leigh's clenching anus as he ejaculated, planting his seed deep in her rectum; inseminating her. He could feel her anus contracting around his flesh, milking him of his spend, her stockinged legs whispering against his flanks, her nails raking his back, her heels goading him on, her mouth sucking on his as they used each other’s bodies to satisfy their primal urges.

Leigh felt William’s cock juddering inside her, his scalding milt filling her, spilling out of her, running between her buttocks and William felt Leigh’s cock throbbing against his belly as her creamy issue spattered on his skin.

Leigh felt not only carnal desire but she also felt truly feminine. She was a woman, lying with her man, sharing her body with him in the most intimate of ways. Her fear of penetrative sex had been washed away by this single encounter and later she would wonder why it had taken being kidnapped and forced to have sex to open the door to real intimacy and femininity.

William and Leigh lay in each others arms and kissed and cuddled. He allowed Leigh to take off her skirt and blouse but not her nylons, heels and panties. He adored her dressed in lingerie. They made love twice more that evening, experimenting with different positions and techniques but Leigh’s favourite was missionary with William lying on top of her so she could wrap her limbs around him and kiss him during coitus.

She was well aware that everything they did was being recorded but by now she was at the stage where she cared little about it. Whatever William wanted of her she would do. She could hardly believe that in little less than a week she had become besotted with her captor.

The End Is Nigh

Angelo DeMarko and Jack Dollarhyde watched the screen intently. William had spliced together and edited the video of Leigh performing fellatio on Mister Bigelow, performing frottage with William and also fellating William before they had penetrative sex. There was no need to photoshop or graphically enhance or edit the footage to portray Leigh as being receptive and an active participant. It was obvious in every scene that she was more than willing and enjoying the sex.

To anyone who questioned the validity of the videos it would look like Leigh had checked into her suite at the Omni New Haven Hotel in Connecticut and over the course of the week had entertained a very large, muscular, shaven-headed man and provided him with oral sex on multiple occasions. She had also, on several occasions, invited a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties who was tall, handsome and slim with a muscular build and wavy shoulder-length dark hair streaked with grey into her room. They were intimate in every possible way.

The two men were dressed differently on each occasion as was Leigh and a forensic examination of the timestamps on the video would show that the meetings had taken place over several days during which Leigh was ostensibly attending a nearby transgender and crossdressing convention and mixer event. Should anyone bother to do so, DNA and fingerprints from all three of the participants would be found in the hotel room. Security video at the hotel would show a man fitting Lee Saunders’ description checking in and out of the hotel and Lee’s Lamborghini had never left the parking lot.

“So we finally have enough material to blackmail her,” Angelo, once again, was not conscious that he was using feminine pronouns to describe Lee Saunders presenting as Leigh.

“Right. Let’s move this along. Get her back to New York well before the trial begins before anyone becomes suspicious by her absence,” Jack Dollahyde growled.

Yes they had enough. But he hadn’t had enough. William couldn’t get enough! William had become besotted with Leigh Saunders and he wanted to keep her here for as long as possible. She was his and he was hers. A form of Stockholm Syndrome had developed between them but it was more than that. It was a whirlwind romance that both knew was impossible but neither of them wanted it to stop.

“I need a couple more days,” William held up his hand before Jack Dollarhyde could interject.

“I need to impress on her the hopelessness of her situation and her need to fully cooperate with our demands. I also need to prepare her for voir dire. After all this we don’t want her to make a mistake that could exclude her from jury selection. Remember she’s our ace in the hole. Our guarantee of an acquittal or hung jury,” William said sternly.

“You got two more days William, then we cut her loose. If she behaves herself and plays along she’ll be fine. If it even looks like she’s going to the cops or does something stupid like injuring herself or doing or saying something to get herself excluded from jury duty we release the footage and maybe take some other form of retribution. Make sure she understands,” Angelo DeMarko said gruffly and stood up to leave.

Over dinner that evening William explained the situation to Leigh who had already agreed to cooperate and no, she did not need to see the video footage that they were using to blackmail her. She knew well enough what was on the video files.

“We have two days together Leigh then you go back to your former life. You do what we ask when you get on the jury and this is all over the day the trial wraps up. I will personally ensure that the video footage is never leaked but we need to keep it to guarantee your silence. You understand?” William took Leigh’s hand in his.

“I understand,” Leigh sighed and squeezed William’s fingers gently.

“Tomorrow afternoon and the day after I’ll run you though the voir dire process so you don’t slipup under elocution but the evenings are ours,” William smiled at Leigh.

“Then stay the night William. It would be wonderful to spend our last two nights together without you leaving after sex. It makes me feel a little like a whore,” Leigh blushed.

“I’ll stay the night and come back tomorrow afternoon ok?” William smiled at Leigh and her eyes sparkled with contentment.

After dinner they retired to bed and made love until the wee hours, drinking two bottles of champagne throughout the night. They both awoke a little sore and hungover but extremely satisfied. William kissed Leigh on the cheek and let her go back to sleep when he left. He would go home, shower and change and attend to business before he came back to see Leigh later in the day.

William returned to the safehouse later than he wanted to, delayed by business that he had neglected to attend to whilst he was engaging with Leigh. He went straight to the control room to look at the cameras to see what Leigh was up to.

What he witnessed horrified him.

Leigh was bent over the little dining table dressed in her peloton attire. Her tights had been pulled down to her knees and Jack Dollarhyde was buggering her from behind whilst Angelo DeMarko was forcing his cock into her mouth. Angleo held Mister Bigelow’s taser in his hand and it was obvious that Leigh had either been tasered or threatened with the device in order to comply.

Anger welled up inside William and he was about to vent his rage on Angelo and Jack when Mister Bigelow entered the room and gripped William’s wrists.

“I tried to stop them boss, but they ordered me to hand over the taser and leave. I tried to reason with them, telling them that they were putting your plan in jeopardy because you had Leigh compliant and complicit,” Mister Bigelow held onto William’s wrists as he tried to break free.

“Those fuckers! I’ll fucking…” William’s anger was such that he couldn’t enunciate what he wanted to say.

“You’ll do what boss? I know that something has happened between you and Leigh but you need to keep your anger under control and think with a clear head. Mister DeMarko and Jack Dollahyde don’t give a fuck about Leigh. They don’t see her the same way we do,” Mister Bigelow said sagely.

Mister Bigelow looked up at the screen and spoke again.

“They’ve finished so I’m going to let you go. Keep your anger under control. Remember what you always say: put intellect over emotion, not the other way around. Don’t do or say anything to Angelo or Jack that will jeopardise your future. Leigh is going to need comforting and sympathy. Go to her. Look after her. Do what you know needs to be done,” Mister Bigelow released William’s wrists and stepped aside.

William supressed the urge to race down the corridor and confront Angelo and Jack. He allowed them the time they needed to leave the scene of their crime. Glancing up at the screen he could see Leigh curled up on the bed. She had pulled up her tights and to anyone looking it might look like she was sleeping but her quiet sobs came through the speakers.

When William entered the corridor it was empty. He heard the crunch of tyres on gravel as Angelo’s town car drove out of courtyard. Angelo was leaving the house. He heard Jack Dollarhyde’s footsteps on the floor above. He raced down to Leigh’s room and burst through the door and went over to the bed, climbed on it and took Leigh in his arms and held her while she sobbed.

He took a remote from his pocket and turned off the cameras and the microphones. For the first time since Leigh had arrived at the safehouse she and William had total privacy. Leigh curled up in William’s arms and he did his best to comfort her.

“Those fuckers!” he hissed.

“Why would they do that to you?” William’s question was rhetorical but Leigh answered.

“Angelo said he was doing it so I would know who was really in charge and if I didn’t get him off the RICO charges the same thing would happen to my wife and daughter. The other man said he was doing it just because he wanted to. Because he’d seen the video of you and I and he thought you were too soft on me. He said something like ‘Bill should have left it to Mister Bigelow and this is how you should treat a tranny whore’,” Leigh whispered.

William digested what Leigh had told him. He was partly to blame for Leigh’s assault. Angelo was just being Angelo. He always wanted everyone to know who was the boss but Jack had raped Leigh to get back at William.

“I’m so sorry Leigh. I’m responsible for what happened to you,” William flicked her hair out of her eyes.

She was wearing the blonde shoulder-length wig, the one she called her ‘blowjob wig’ because it was the wig she was ordered to wear whenever she had to service Mister Bigelow.

Leigh noticed him notice.

“The talking box told me to put on the blowjob wig just as I’d finished my peloton. I thought they were sending Mister Bigelow again and he did come in first but then Angelo DeMarko and the other man came in behind him,” Leigh explained.

“Jack Dollarhyde. The other man is Jack Dollarhyde,” William replied, not that it mattered.

“Anyway you weren't here and they were and as soon as I saw Mister Bigelow I assumed the position but Mister Bigelow wasn’t here for that and he started arguing with the other two and they ordered him to leave. After Mister Bigelow left the room Angelo put the taser to my face and threatened to use it… well you know what happened next,” Leigh actually sounded more self assured now that she was talking about what had happened clinically.

“I’ve turned the cameras and the microphones off. We’re alone now,” William helped Leigh sit up.

“Good, because I’m going to have a shower now and fix my makeup and change into something nice. You're going to send for a bottle of gin and a litre of tonic and we are going to have some drinks while you explain the voir dire procedure to me. Then we are going to have dinner and afterwards you are going to make love to me. You're going to pretend that what we have is more than just sex and that you really care for me,” Leigh leaned in and kissed William’s cheek.

“I won’t have to pretend,” William whispered in Leigh’s ear, even though no one could hear them.

“Good, because I want you to make it all go away,” Leigh cleared her throat and got up off the bed.

“I’m staying with you until you leave here. I’m not leaving you alone again,” William called after Leigh as she made her way to the bathroom.

On Leigh’s last day in the safehouse William said goodbye to her in the room. One of Lee Saunder’s suits, a shirt, belt, cufflinks, shoes and socks were laid out on the bed along with a pair of boxer briefs. William did not want to see Lee Saunders. Lee Saunders was nothing to him but Leigh Saunders was everything.

Their farewell was heartfelt and teary and when William finally left the room Jack Dollarhyde and Mister Bigelow entered along with Jack’s crew of henchmen who began packing up Leigh’s things. Leigh went into the bathroom and Lee Saunders emerged half an hour later.

“My boys are at your apartment putting everything back as it was. Your Lamborghini is parked outside fully fuelled. You know the deal. You’ve been in Connecticut attending one of your freak conventions. I’m sure you have a cover story for that. This room will be unrecognisable in a few hours but I know that you know the consequences if you blab. No one will believe you anyway,” Jack grinned at Lee evilly.

“You know what to do Nancy-boy. Once the trial is over you can forget this ever happened but we will always have the video should you get regretful. By the way, if you ever want to play dress up again and bend over, I’m happy to oblige. You were a great fuck,” Jack threw the keys to the Lamborghini at Lee and left the room.

The first thing Lee Saunders did when he got home was to open his secret closet and snatch up the blonde ‘blowjob wig’ and throw it in the trash. In the confines and safety of his luxury apartment, the last week seemed like a dream or a nightmare, depending on which parts of his kidnapping he thought about. Leigh was just below his conscience and he knew that what happened to Leigh was lifechanging and that she would always dwell there now, close to the surface of his psyche. Maybe one day she might even take over and banish Lee into oblivion?

For now there were more important things to do. Lee started making phone calls and sending emails. He contacted his ex-wife, his son and his daughter, his boss and his important clients to let them know that he was back from his vacation and ready to get back to work but would be tied up with the Angelo DeMarko trial starting on Monday for about two weeks and he may be sequestered.

Sequestered

Voir dire turned out to be a cakewalk. Judge Mandy Mirrin knew of Lee Saunders by reputation because they moved in the same professional and social circles but not she did not know him personally. Braithwaite Capital was acclaimed in financial circles for their transparency and ethical practices and was highly respected and Lee Saunders in particular had an exemplary reputation and a staunch record for trading legitimately and fairly and Judge Mirrin was happy to have someone of Lee Sanders’ standing on her jury. He was intelligent, honest and fair. It was she who had denied his application to be excused jury duty.

The Prosecutor was allowed six peremptory challenges which permits an attorney to remove a potential juror without giving a specific reason to the court and the Defence had ten. In Lee’s case the Prosector thought the same way as the Judge and was keen to have someone on the jury who was intelligent enough to understand the swathe of financial and corporate evidence his team would be presenting to the court and he asked no questions of Lee and was surprised when the Defence didn’t use a challenge on him.

The other eleven jurors and two alternates were selected by the end of the first day. Lee was glad that he didn’t have to face Angelo DeMarko during voir dire. Angelo left jury selection to the jury consultants employed by Dewy, McGivern and Stern. The only stipulation he gave to his lawyers was that they were not to challenge Lee Saunders. This surprised the jury consultants but Angelo’s lawyers knew better than to ask any questions; they simply followed his instructions.

Lee did have to face Angelo throughout the trial but Angelo knew better than to express any emotion towards the jury and he seldom glanced their way. The Prosecutor took seven days to present his evidence which was often boring but very condemning. Although the RICO indictments included gambling, human trafficking, prostitution, arson, drug importation, bribery, mail and wire fraud, there were very few thrilling or stimulating pieces of evidence offered. A few pictures of bloody corpses of people allegedly assassinated on Angelo’s orders and pictures of human misery, allegedly attributed to Angelo’s crime empire were presented to the court. However Angelo was very well removed from the day-to-day gritty business of running an organised crime syndicate and left the dirty work to his subordinates.

Most of the evidence was based on forensic examination of Angelo’s financial accounts and company records and wiretap evidence that the Prosecutor claimed proved that Angelo was the head of the crime syndicate. There were lots of facts and figures, charts and line drawings linking Angelo to the crimes he had been accused of. There were recordings of Angelo allegedly issuing orders and conversing with those who actually committed the crimes.

The prosecution witnesses had been schooled on how to make their evidence appear compelling and interesting and above all how to present the evidence in simple, layman’s terms that the jury could understand. The final question that the Prosecutor asked all of his witnesses was: ‘did their evidence prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Angelo DeMarko was in charge of a criminal syndicate that had perpetrated the crimes associated with the predicates’ and invariably the answer was yes.

The lawyers at Dewy, McGivern and Stern went after each of the Prosecutor’s witnesses with vim and vigour, trying to poke holes in their testimony or to catch them out in a lie. The Defence offered alternate theories to the witnesses but the witnesses held fast to their testimony.

On the first day of the trial Judge Mandy Mirrin instructed the jury to elect a foreperson. Lee held back, not offering himself up for the position even though he was obviously the most qualified person to do so. A bullnecked building contractor named Bob Rickenbacker tried to bully the jurors into electing him as foreperson but the seven women and four other men of sitting on the panel rejected him and someone put Lee’s name forward. After a little debate Lee reluctantly accepted the position.

Word got back to Angelo DeMarko, Jack Dollarhyde and William Sauber via a bribed clerk of the court and they celebrated that evening. Their ace in the hole held the prime position on the jury and a not guilty verdict or a hung jury acquittal was almost guaranteed.

Judge Mirrin sequestered the jury in a hotel close to the courthouse and security was tight. She didn’t want anyone tampering with her jury and the jury was ordered not to discuss the case with anyone or to talk about the case amongst themselves outside of the jury room and an eight o’clock curfew was enforced when the jury was remanded to their hotel rooms. All personal electronic devices had to be surrendered once the trail began but the jurors were allowed to make personal calls on their hotel landlines. A Sheriff’s deputy was situated in the lobby and another stationed near the elevator on the floor where the jury resided.

The jury had been informed that they needed to pack clothes and personal affects for the two weeks allocated to the trial. The court would pick up their laundry bill and pay for room service and any incidentals they needed during their stay. Lee also packed a peignoir, panties, nylons, a small makeup kit and a little ‘pixie’ wig to wear in the evenings. Leigh emerged and took over Lee’s psyche every night. She couldn’t go out of course but at least she could be dressed as herself for a few hours and reminisce about the times she had spent in the company of William Sauber.

One week into the trial just before 9PM the house phone rang and Leigh answered it trepidatiously. Her first thought was that something might have come up that required her to leave her room. She’d already thought of a contingency and knew that she could remove her makeup, slip out of her feminine garb and change into Lee’s pyjamas in about three minutes if the need arose.

“What are you wearing?” William Sauber’s voice sounded breathless.

Leigh giggled at the sexist come-on line and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Who wants to know?” Leigh automatically adopted the breathy, Kathleen Turner-esque voice that she had nurtured over the years.

“If I know you, you have smuggled something lacy, silky and sexy into that hotel room to wear after hours,” William whispered.

“Why are you whispering? Where are you?” Leigh asked.

“I’m on the housephone in a room two floors above you,” William replied.

“This is madness and definitely not part of our plan,” Leigh hissed angrily into the phone.

“I paid for the room online under a pseudonym. I got someone else to check in and pick up the room key and I used the stairs instead of the elevator. When I entered the hotel I used the blind spots in the foyer to ensure I wasn’t caught on the security camera,” William explained.

“Make sure your door is unlocked at exactly 9PM. That’s the change of shift for the deputies and they all meet in the foyer for the handover. I have to see you,” William didn’t wait for Leigh to respond and the line went dead.

At exactly 9PM the door to Leigh’s hotel room opened and William Sauber slipped inside and closed and locked the door behind him. He was dressed in black activewear: sports tights, a long-sleeved lycra sports top and running shoes with a black mesh fanny-pack around his waist. He looked like we was just going for or returning from a run. The active wear accentuated his slim, muscular build. His handsome face and thick, wavy shoulder-length dark hair streaked with grey was partially disguised by a black baseball cap.

A few weeks ago Leigh might have given William a passing platonic glance and admired his fit body but the new Leigh was immediately aroused by the sight of her paramour dressed in the formfitting attire.

William studied Leigh. Her makeup was not as flamboyant as what she wore at the safehouse and the little brunette bob with bangs was nothing like the voluminous hair she usually wore but it framed her face beautifully and the peignoir, panties and nylons met his approval.

“No high heels?” William pretended to be disappointed.

“The sheriffs x-rayed our suitcases when he we checked in and the metal support rod in the heels would have shown up and looked suspicious,” Leigh made no attempt to cross the room.

This was William’s play; let him make the first move, although the urge to run across the room in her stockinged feet and kiss him was almost overwhelming.

“Is there any booze in that fridge?” William nodded at the minifridge located under the bench.

“We are allowed four standard drinks per night. We place our orders with room service. I chose two gin miniatures and a two-serve bottle of Shiraz,” Leigh answered cooly.

“That won’t get us through the night,” William grinned and produced a half-pint of Bombay Sapphire from his fanny-pack.

“You're staying the night?” Leigh was surprised at William’s audacity.

“Well I can’t leave your room now until they bundle you onto the bus tomorrow to take you to court can I?” William smiled cheekily.

He put the bottle of gin down on the bench and walked across the room and pulled Leigh into his arms and she pressed herself against him feeling his cock harden against her as he pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue into her mouth. She could feel the outline of his erect penis through the spandex sports tights and she stroked the appendage gently and was rewarded with a gasp.

“I missed you,” he breathed when he came up for air.

“I missed you too,” Leigh admitted.

“But this is insane,” she added.

“It’s too late now. I’m in your room and I can’t leave until the morning,” William smiled into her beautiful eyes.

A frown furrowed Leigh’s forehead.

“I just realised something but it doesn’t matter right now. I wasn’t expecting company so let me take a minute to make myself presentable,” Leigh smiled at him mischievously.

“You look very presentable to me right now,” William squeezed her ass.

“Give a girl a minute to freshen up while you pour us a drink. I’d like a gin and tonic to start with,” Leigh extricated herself from William’s embrace and went into the bathroom.

There were some things that William didn’t need to know about. In this case that she hadn’t packed her douche. Why would she? It’s not like she was checking into a hotel for steamy sex. The only sex she had envisioned during her sequester was masturbation. But once again the spicy conversations overheard at the crossdresser gatherings she attended came to the rescue. One such conversation was how to make a homemade douche in an emergency when you weren't expecting to have sex.

Without going into details, Leigh was able to use a bottle of drinking water provided by the hotel in sealed plastic bottles, two of which were located on the bathroom vanity, to make an improvised douche. She removed her undergarments and the peignoir and performed the necessary functions then she dried herself, dressed and fixed her makeup a little, giving herself a seductive smoky eye and dabbing on some more Dior Poison from the little bottle in her cosmetics case.

As she was leaving the bathroom she snatched up a little bottle of moisturiser and a large bath towel. When she entered the main room William had dimmed the lights, pulled the shades, found some eighties ballads on the entertainment system and made himself comfortable on the couch. Leigh pulled back the coverlet on the bed, laid out the bath towel and put the bottle of moisturiser on the bedside table. She would have made a good girl scout: Be Prepared. Now that she had taken care of the practicalities she was feeling quite lecherous and she joined William on the couch.

They drank a glass of gin and tonic to settle their nerves, just luxuriating in being in each other’s company and Leigh was pouring another when William broke the silence.

“Come and sit in my lap,” he reached for Leigh and lifted her onto his lap.

Her soft rounded buttocks settled into his lap, her peignoir riding high on her thighs. She leaned in and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth, tasting the gin and feeling his cock press against her buttocks. William put his arms around Leigh, pulling her close, feeling her body mould to his. Her lips were soft and inviting, her tongue languidly searching his mouth, her long fingers entwined in his hair, her fingernails softly scratching his scalp at the back of his neck.

William had taken quite the risk to be with Leigh in this hotel. If they were caught Leigh would be summarily dismissed from jury and Angelo’s chance of an acquittal would be severely compromised. William still didn’t understand his fascination with Leigh and had given up trying to rationalise it. Until he met her, William’s predilection had been for tall, vivacious and curvy blondes with little between their ears except a yearning for hard cash, expensive jewellery and clothing and the possibility of travel to an exotic destination. Neither he nor the women expected anything more from the relationship than sex.

But Leigh beguiled him. The impossibility of the situation only made him want her more. He knew that their relationship had developed quickly and was unique for both of them; he being Leigh’s first lover and Leigh being William’s first transgender lover, if that’s what she was. She was still very much in the closet and lived most of her life as Lee Saunders but William shut Lee out of his mind when he was with Leigh. It was as if Lee was no more than an inconvenient obstacle that was in the way of William being able to spend more time with Leigh.

He let these thoughts slip away and returned to the moment. For now he had Leigh to himself and he intended to enjoy every second they had together. He kissed her and held her tight.

The feel of this woman, the smell of her, the taste of her, was enchanting and bewitching. She was exotically different to any other woman he had met. He lifted her up and carried her to the bed and gently lowered her onto the bath towel she had laid on top of the sheets.

“You look hot in those tights and top. I never thought I’d be the type of girl who was attracted to a Mamil,” Leigh giggled like a schoolgirl and William adored her for it.

“Mamil?” William looked confused.

“Middle Aged Man In Lycra,” Leigh continued to giggle.

“Let me see what’s underneath,” Leigh extended her foot and rubbed her toes on the bulge in the crotch of William’s tights.

William looked at Leigh lying seductively on the bed and slowly stripped naked, making a show of it. Kicking off his running shoes and socks and slowly unpeeling his spandex sports top and finally his leggings. It was both comical and erotic. His cock stood out from his belly, semi-erect, a rope of silvery precum leaked from the eye.

Leigh reached out and caught the lubricious thread in her fingers and smeared his quivering rod with it, taking his cock in her delicate fingers, stroking it to full tumescence. She smiled up at him, her lips parted a little to show her perfect teeth, admiring the girth of William’s long slender phallus, feeling the silkiness of his shaft and the veins pulsing as his manhood grew in her hand.

William leaned down and kissed her, his hand straying to her ankle and slowly worked his way up her leg. His fingers slid along her translucent pantyhose, caressing the little wrinkles in her nylons at back of her knee and then continued up her thigh until he found the place where her thigh joined her torso. He knew that Leigh loved it when he stroked her there, so tantalisingly close to her pubis but far enough away to cause her to ache for him to fondle her genitals. She gasped and William’s fingers continued their journey until they found the lace edge of her black satin panties and then he paused.

He was kissing her softly the whole time, his lips pressed gently on hers, his tongue languidly exploring her mouth. Now the kiss became impassioned, hungry, his lips crushing hers, his tongue flickering in her sweet mouth. He joined her on the bed and Leigh scooched over so he could lie down beside her, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her. Her hair tickled his cheek, her scent invaded his nostrils and her flat belly pressed on his aching cock which left a silvery trail of precum on her peignoir. She snaked one her legs over his body and softly skimmed it up and down his torso and his leg. William shivered with delight and stroked the long, gossamer-clad appendage.

His hand slid under her slip and cupped her buttocks, delighting in the feel of satin and lace. He squeezed her buttocks, then his fingers followed the lace edge and came to rest on the front of her panties and he felt her gasp as he stroked her there. Her cock was distending her pantyhose and panties and William grasped it and worked his fingers up and down her silken-clad appendage until a bead of precum burst through the bulging satin fabric.

Leigh massaged William’s cock, feeling it quiver, using the pre-ejaculate leaking from the eye to lubricate the shaft and the bulbous head. William purred contentedly and kissed Leigh while she stroked his cock and he played with her legs and her bottom, occasionally letting his hand drift across the front of her panties and feeling her shudder whenever he did so. He was in no rush and he enjoyed teasing her.

As much as Leigh was enjoying the foreplay she was ravenous for sex. Her dreams had been consumed with visions of her and William alone in her cell, enjoying each others bodies and she thought of him inside when she masturbated alone in this lonely hotel room. Now that he was here she intended to enjoy every inch of his body.

Leigh nibbled William’s earlobe then ran her tongue down his neck, pausing briefly to lap at his clavicle. His journey up and down the hotel stairwell in the skintight sports attire had made him sweat and his musky, manly perspiration mingled with his cologne. She loved the slight masculine funk he exuded and was glad that he hadn’t showered. His machismo amplified her feelings of femininity.

She continued her journey down his body and flittered her tongue on his nipples, nipping them softly one after the other. She heard him gasp and she smiled, raking her fingers across his hairy chest. She teased him, fondling his erection whilst she nipped his erect nipples and scraped her fingernails along his muscled chest.

William was becoming impatient. He had thought about this moment for days and he was craving release. There would be time for extended foreplay and canoodling later but right now he wanted Leigh to use her newly acquired skills to bring him to climax. He put his hands on Leigh’s head and gently pushed her face over his flat belly down into his groin.

William’s torso was hairy but his genitals were bald and smooth. Leigh deliberately bypassed his penis with her tongue and lapped at his scrotum feeling his testes roil as she kissed and coddled his furrowed flesh. She took his scrotum in her mouth and nursed it with her lips and tongue and William entwined his fingers in her hair and groaned. His cock juddered, bouncing against her nose.

She could feel his ache, his need, his wants, as she deliberately avoided touching his penis until William was squirming and writhing on the bed, trying to push Leigh’s mouth towards his steely rod.

“Please honey. I want you so much,” he mewled and Leigh smiled.

Leigh took his manhood in her mouth, opening wide, swallowing him until her lips closed around the base of his penis. She flicked her tongue along his glans, tasting the sweet-salty issuance of his pre-ejaculate.

“Oh yes my precious girl,” William sighed as Leigh began to fellate him.

Leigh adored him when he referred to her that way. She too was well aware of the impossibility of their relationship but for now she was just content to be with the man who had been her only real lover.

Leigh got up on her knees and crouched over William and he slipped his hands under her peignoir and stroked her thighs and caressed her haunches while she sucked his tender root. He traced a finger down the crease of her buttocks, admiring the pertness of her bottom clad in the tight gauzy satin. His hand drifted towards the front of her panties and he stroked her pubis. He smiled as he felt her cock quiver and her panties became wetter.

William’s cock was fully tumescent, quivering slightly when she ran her tongue along the fraenulum and worked her lips up and down the shaft and she could sense that William was impatient to fuck. He removed his hands from under slip and placed them on her hips, signalling his intent. Leigh obliged and reached out to the beside table and opened the little bottle of moisturiser and squeezed a dollop on her fingertips and pushed her hand down the back of her panties and pantyhose and worked the emollient into her sphincter.

William was stroking her buttocks whilst she performed this necessary task and when she removed her hand from inside her underwear and smiled down at him he slipped a hand inside her panties and tore a hole in the gusset of her pantyhose.

Leigh lifted her ass off him a little and eased his cock inside her panties and he slid his phallus into her tight, moist anus. Her sphincter slick with the moisturiser eased his passage and Leigh smiled down at him and wriggled her buttocks, feeling his rigid member quiver deep inside her rectum.

William pulled Leigh’s face to his and kissed her longingly, his cock buried deep inside this gorgeous woman, the hem of her silky slip tickling his belly, her sleek nylon-shrouded limbs pressing against his outer thighs, her hair tickling his face.

“Oh Christ Leigh, I’ve been dreaming of this for last few days,” William whispered; his mouth locked on hers.

Leigh slowly lifted her body until just the tip of William’s cock was still inside her, then she slowly lowered her body, impaling herself on his steely organ. She broke the kiss and threw back her head, leaning back whilst William gripped her hips and rose to meet her as she began to slowly fuck him.

William looked into Leigh’s face. It was beautiful, her eyes narrowed and her lips parted in wanton lust as she rode him. He held her hips, easing her up off his cock and then pulling her down onto it. She shimmied her buttocks, squirming against him when her pubis slammed into his, her panties caressing his scrotal sac, her tight anus clutching at his turgid tool.

Leigh opened her eyes and smiled down at him and William felt a wave of passion and hunger envelop him. He pulled her face to his and kissed her passionately as began to fuck her harder. She pressed her body against his, meeting his thrusts, feeling his cock jackhammer in and out of her. Her cock was fully erect and her panties were moist and clammy and William smiled around the kiss, knowing that Leigh was as sexually aroused as he was and he held her even closer as he felt his orgasm beginning to build.

His cock slid in and out of her snug channel as Leigh moaned into his mouth encouraging him to fuck her harder and faster. He gripped her hips tightly and thrust upward and drove his cock deep inside her and voided his seed. Leigh felt Williams’ cock undulate as his pubis slammed into her buttocks. The stench of musky semen drifted from her crotch as William filled her with his scalding secretions.

Leigh’s prostate emitted a continuous ripple of intense pleasure that wracked her lower body and joined up with the explosive passion that radiated from her juddering cock. She freed her cock from its nylon prison and let her spunk spatter on William’s hairy belly as she furiously whipped her hand along the shaft.

William pulled her close, pulling her body tight against his, kissing her fervently, almost painfully, as his cock continued to shudder inside her, filling Leigh with his seed. He felt her cock quivering against his flesh, her scalding semen smearing his belly, matting his hair. The stench of her musky milt joining the odour of his own emissions as they dribbled from her clinching sphincter.

Leigh lay on top of him exhausted as William slowly came down from his orgasmic high. Their kisses became softer, tenderer and his grip on her became affectionate rather than needy. William was content to feel Leigh’s body on top of him, her lips softly kissing him, her silken-swathed legs pressing into his flanks.

They lay like that, exhausted and sated until the air conditioning cooled their bodies and then Leigh reluctantly eased her lower extremity away from his body and William’s cock slid out of her, his semen dribbled out of her, swamping her already moist panties. She climbed off him gingerly, her limbs aching a little from the exertion and modestly adjusted her slip as rose from the bed.

William lay on the bed, smiling contentedly in the afterglow while Leigh went into the bathroom, cleaned up and changed her panties. William went into the bathroom after her and emerged dressed in a hotel bathrobe and then he joined Leigh on the couch.

“So, you got yourself elected foreman of the jury,” William began to talk business.

“Well, Lee kinda got pushed into the role. Some jerk named Bob Rickenbacker tried to bully himself into the job and that enraged some of the other jurors plus it helped that some of the ladies on the jury are sweet on Lee,” Leigh spoke about her male persona as if he was another person.

“Bob is a building contractor and has already indicated his inclination to vote not guilty and some of the sheep on the jury are following him. He hates any form of government oversight and he’s a conspiracy theorist. If the Prosecutor hadn't run out of peremptory challenges he would have ditched him for sure,” Leigh finished her drink and poured them both another.

“So, maybe getting a not guilty verdict is not going to be all that hard,” William looked at Leigh over his glass.

“I’m more inclined to think a hung jury but we have yet to hear from the Defence,” Leigh said cautiously.

“Leigh honey, you are still my ace in the hole,” William smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to make sure things turn out our way,” Leigh smiled back at him.

“And after the trial? Have you given any thought to my proposition?” William took Leigh’s glass from her and held her hands in his.

“I don’t know. It’s so… so radical… so unconventional and almost impossible to think about,” Leigh admitted.

“It’s life changing and profound,” she continued.

“I wouldn’t have put it to you if I didn’t think we could seriously make it work,” William drew closer to Leigh.

“I don’t know what else to do. I never dreamed I would fall in love with you,” William looked deeply into Leigh’s eyes and witnessed her astonishment and awe.

Leigh dropped her glass. What William had just said to her was explosive. She began to cry and William pulled her into his arms.

“Don’t think about it now my love. You will have plenty of time after the trial to think about it and make a decision. Let’s just deal with the here and now. Come, let’s go to bed,” William whispered in Leigh’s ear.

The Verdict

But Leigh couldn’t help but think about it. It being that William Sauber had told her that he loved her. There was no doubt that Leigh felt something more than just lust for William but was it love? It was an impossible situation. Leigh was shackled with Lee, her male counterpart, who was the dominant owner of their shared psyche. Although Leigh was taking over their pneuma more and more it was Lee who provided for their shared spirit. Lee was the breadwinner. Lee was the father of two children. Lee had legal standing. Lee was a legitimate mortal entity. Leigh couldn’t exist on her own. Or could she?

The Defence countered the robust attack offered by the Prosecutor. The lawyers of Dewy, McGivern and Stern took turns trying to nullify the mountain of evidence against Angelo DeMarko and the trial became heated with many objections and sidebars. The jury became more interested in the case and was beginning to form two camps, one led by Bob Rickenbacker who firmly believed that Angelo DeMarko should be found not guilty and the other, mainly comprising the women on the jury, convinced of Angelo’s guilt.

Lee Saunders as jury foreman remained neutral for now. It would be Lee’s job to secure the outcome needed when the jury began their deliberations. Angelo DeMarko didn’t take the stand which disappointed not only the Prosector, who wanted a chance to go after him under oath, but also the jury and the press. The trial phase ended with a speech given by Judge Mandy Mirrin to the jury to deliberate only the facts in evidence and to leave their personal opinions at the door to the jury room.

It was time for Lee Saunders, a man who had spent his life convincing reluctant investors to spend millions of dollars of their hard-earned money based on his advice and advocacy, to convince the jury to vote for his cause.

It took two days of intense jury room arguments and deliberations before the court was informed that jury had reached a verdict. The courtroom was packed with lawyers, correspondents, supporters and detractors waiting to hear what the jury had to say. Angelo DeMarko sat staring straight ahead. On advice of council he tried to keep a neutral look on his face but he couldn’t suppress a smirk. His ace in the hole guaranteed a not guilty verdict or at least a hung jury. Either would suffice. William Sauber and Jack Dollarhyde sat in the first row behind the Defence table. Mister Bigelow sat in the driver’s seat of Angelo DeMarko’s town car outside the courthouse, ready to whisk his boss away.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge Mandy Mirrin asked Lee Saunders who was standing in the jury box as the elected foreperson.

“We have Your Honour,” Lee handed the bailiff a piece of paper with the verdict written on it.

The bailiff took the paper to Judge Mirrin who opened the folded sheet of paper and frowned. She looked up at the jury and seemed to scan each of their faces individually.

“Is this verdict unanimous?” Judge Mirrin asked, her voice was edgy.

“It is your honour,” Lee replied, unable to look the judge squarely in the eye.

“What say you then, in this matter,” the judge finally asked.

“We the jury, find the Defendant, Angelo DeMarko, guilty on all counts of the indictment,” Lee Saunders announced.

Angelo DeMarko leapt from his chair with his fist raised in victory. Then it dawned on him what the foreman had actually said and he slumped in his chair, incredulous and unable to speak.

The courtroom erupted and Judge Mirrin rapped her gavel repeatedly until there was silence.

“Your ace in the hole is a dead man walking,” Jack Dollarhyde hissed at William Sauber then he stood up and leaned over the rail.

“I’ll take care of this boss,” Jack whispered in Angelo’s ear and stood up and left the courtroom.

Jack fought his way through the crowd to the town car.

“Where’s Angelo?” Mister Bigelow asked.

“Never mind. Take me to the safehouse. I need to arrange retribution and reign down fury and suffering unheard of. I’m going to bring hell to the likes of Lee Saunders and everyone he cherishes,” Jack Dollarhyde barked.

Mister Bigelow turned off the Long Island Expressway and somewhere along the quiet country road that led to Angelo’s safehouse Mister Bigelow turned in his seat and emptied a silenced nine millimetre Baretta into Jack Dollahyde’s body. Two other lynchpins known to be unconditionally loyal to Angelo DeMarko disappeared that day. With Angelo incarcerated for life it was time for a change at the top.

Five hundred thousand dollars appeared in an offshore numbered account in the name of Bob Rickenbacker and true to his word Bob didn’t spend any of it until the furore over the trial died down. He might have been a staunch Angelo DeMarko advocate but he was also a pragmatist.

As Angelo DeMarko’s number two man and Consigliere, William Sauber took control of the syndicate, calling the remaining Captains to a meeting where he declared that he was retiring from the crime syndicate and he nominated a strong but intelligent confidant to take on the role of Boss. Angelo would be incarcerated in a Supermax prison for the remainder of his life and Jack Dollarhyde would no longer be serving as Caporegime.

The next day Lee Saunders tendered his resignation at Braithwaite Capital. Lee had consolidated everything he had in the way of capital, investments and property and put it in a trust for his children. He told his ex-wife and children that he had no choice but to enter witness protection because of the threats he had received from the DeMarko crime family because of the verdict. Lee was not particularly heartbroken by this turn of events, which was of course a fabrication he and William had devised in Leigh’s cell in the safehouse and fleshed out later in the Leigh’s hotel room.

Lee’s family were only interested in his money and maintaining their current lifestyle and the stipend he left behind would take care of that. They didn’t even bother to say farewell in person.

For all intents and purposes Lee Saunders disappeared off the face of the earth. In fact Lee flew first class to Copenhagen on a false passport and popped up again in London six months later using another false but incontrovertible identity.

Endgame – London England – Present Day

A tall, curvy, middle-aged, blonde woman with wide hips and shoulders, a slim waist, buxom bottom, generous bosom and very long legs strode down the corridor. Her shoulder-length hair was impeccably coiffed and her makeup was perfect: smoky eyeliner and mascara, deep plum eyeshadow, a little rouge to emphasise her high cheekbones. Her wide, generous mouth was accentuated by bold red Maybelline Superstay lipstick. She was carrying a slim, stylish briefcase.

She wore a Dior dark pencil-skirted power suit, shimmery fleshtone nylons and black, four-inch, Christian Louboutin high heels which click-clacked on the polished marble floor. She bore more than a passing resemblance to the British actress Hannah Waddingham but she spoke with an American accent. She was humming the song Short Skirt/Long Jacket by Cake.

The four wealthy clients sitting around the conference room table stood up politely when she entered the room. A hint of her Dior Poison perfume pervaded the space she occupied and they all appraised her admiringly.

“Gentlemen, let me introduce to you my business partner and life companion, Leigh Cole,” William Sauber stepped from behind the dais and greeted the love of his wife with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Leigh took William’s place at the dais and spoke.

“Gentlemen, if you open the prospectus in front of you I will explain to you why investing your money with Cole – Sauber Capital is the smartest, astutest venture you will ever undertake,” Leigh began her spiel.

During the six months Leigh had spent in Europe she had undergone some feminisation surgery. Not that much actually: breast augmentation, a tracheal shave and a little facial treatment. She had begun taking female hormones and grown out her hair. She had no interest in undergoing bottom surgery and she remained fully functional in that regard.

William had extricated himself from the DeMarko crime family taking with him a generous stipend and guarantees that so long as he left the country there would be no retribution for removing Angelo DeMarko and taking out Angelo’s staunchest acolytes. The new regime had no interest in drawing attention to themselves and allowed William to disappear with the money and investments he had accumulated during his reign as Consigliere.

He had joined Leigh in Europe and purchased a new identity for her that was incontrovertible and would withstand the most rigorous scrutiny. Leigh wanted to keep her first name and William’s expert in identity manipulation had found a ‘Leigh Cole’ who had died young in a small midwestern town and would be about the same age as Leigh Saunders and created Leigh’s new identity.

William had acquired the necessary visas and had undertaken the legal, tax and commercial intricacies required to register Cole – Sauber Capital with Companies House and opened their office in a swank London tower, hiring local talent. He purchased a nice apartment overlooking the Thames and he and Leigh had set up house and worked hard and were assimilating nicely into the London scene.

Leigh made no secret of the fact that she was transgender but resolutely refused to talk about her life before transitioning which all their friends thought was understandable.

They are living happy ever after, proof that a fairytale can emerge from a nightmare.

Mister Bigelow was installed as Caporegime of what was once known as the DeMarko crime syndicate and is a man known to use actions rather than words. He is happily married with two young children.

The End