Robert Hart is my name and seven years ago I went into business as an estate agent in the village of Shere on the South Coast of England, employing two part time ladies, and operating from a former village post office stores, attached to which I had a self - contained batchelor pad which suited my needs.
Three years ago an interloper set up in competition with me just a few doors away, strangely enough run by Charles Bentall, a shifty character with whom I had the misfortune to go to the same prep. and public schools. Fortunately both businesses have prospered, until quite recently that is, but the current economic situation mean't I was going through a lean patch, but since many of the properties in my extensive portfolio had yielded good returns, I felt I had adequate reserves to survive the downturn. How Charles was faring I had no idea, and although we meet socially we have only 'crossed swords' business-wise on the odd occasion, and also engaged in a certain amount of good natured horseplay in our efforts to put one over on the other - and I felt I was ahead in this respect.
The most prestigious property on my books was "The Oaks", a ten bedroom pre-war Lutyens design set in ten acres of land half a mile outside the village. The absentee owners of the fully furnished property. and who was in no particular hurry to sell had given me sole agency, which had recently expired. The owners were now requesting an early sale, a request which so far I had successfully parried for reasons best known to myself.
I had just shown prospective purchasers over the property and since it was a beautiful spring afternoon, I had walked from the office meeting the clients on site. I declined their kind offer of a lift back to the office, and having waved the clients out of sight, disappeared back into the house.
Making my way upstairs, I unlocked the door to the master bedroom and slipped the keys back into my jacket pocket as I entered the room and closed the door behind me. I went through into the dressing room and from the hanging space and the dressing table drawers collected together a selection of clothes which I carefully laid out on the king sized bed before hastily stripping my clothes off in a pile on the floor and going into the en-suite to enjoy a luxurious bath - finally emerging powdered and perfumed to prepare for a pleasurable afternoon - one of many I had spent in 'The Oaks' over past six months - evenings and weekends included.
I started on
the slow, methodical task of dressing 'the lady of the house' beginning with
tucking away in my silk thong. I slipped my smoke grey tights over my smoothly
epilated legs, silver grey satin slip, french knickers and bra, and of course,
my indespensible breast prothesis.A dark grey, 'fortuny' style pleated mid-calf
dress slipped easily over my slim body, and finally I cockled my toes into a
pair of two and a half inch heeled court shoes in pink, to match my pink
accessories and handbag.
Having spent another fifteen minutes completing my 'face job' and brushing out and adjusting my golden tresses over my head, I felt totally satisfied with the result as reflected in the full-length mirror to which I was inexorably drawn. "Everything perfect" I ruminated, glancing round the room - "but not quite!" as my daintily clad foot snaked out to kick my discarded clothes out of sight under the bed.
My thoughts now turned to a hand painted china tea service downstairs," now for a nice cup of tea" as swathed in silk I picked up my pink clutch bag and trotted off to the kitchen and was eventually seated comfortably by one of the windows in the lounge sipping a hot, strong, cup of Fortnum and Mason's Earl Grey and contemplating the indelible impression left on the rim of the cup.
Up until now, my life had been interesting - but perhaps rather lonely as I had pursued perfection in my 'alter ego' to the exclusion of other, more social pursuits. I felt that being an only child with older parents who left me mostly to my own devices before shuffling me off to boarding school at the age of seven had some bearing on my insular, somewhat selfish attitude to life, and at the age of 28, I felt life was sweet as it was, I could see no reason to effect a change in my current lifestyle - "later on, perhaps - but not just now!"
Ever since a small boy I had always fascinated by female clothes - although I had always avoided the odd opportunity of playing girls parts at my minor public school. However, I had studied girls of my age, such as my girl cousins and their ilk - their movements and mannerisms, conversation and most of all their mode of dress - but these observations were mostly at a distance and these impressions were unwittingly stored away in my subconscious.
After puberty I had enjoyed the company of the occasional girl-friend but I never felt interested in proceeding beyond the 'heavy petting' stage, preferring to leave much to the imagination. I seem to feel at ease in female company and found it easy to communicate and empathise with their lot.
Having left school and qualified as a surveyor, I was able to establish my src="estate// agency business with a small inheritance from my parents which I had been operating for about two years when the event that drastically changed my life took place.
I was showing a middle aged couple round a fully furnished property which had come on the market following a road accident in which the both owners had been killed. I hadn't gone into details why the house was for sale, and we were in the principal bedroom when the wife opened the wardrobe to reveal the deceased couples' clothing still in situ - she remarked upon the excellent dress sense of the deceased lady of the house. She took a black sheath dress out of the wardrobe, still on its hanger and draped the garment across her body as she moved to the full length mirror to admire the result, but her squat, portly figure ruined the effect and she giggled good-naturedly at her reflected image.
As she turned to return the dress to the wardrobe, she commented to her husband that the dress would look much better on me with my slim build than it would on her, and to make a point draped the garment in front of me and remarked - "Young man, you really do justice to tthat dress!" "Yes my dear, but we are trying to buy a house, not teach this young fella dress sense." Her husband then snatched the dress from his wife's grasp and hung it back in the wardrobe, while his wife, probably a little worse for an alchoholic lunch, giggling like a school-girl, had ripped off her dress to display her ample lacy bra and bouffant style flared petticoats before plunging into the dressing table drawers pulling out the contents, as she cavorted about with various unmentionables - wisps of silk, satin, nylon and lace of the most intimate nature as any sense of decorum was dispelled by her raucous laughter.
I was at a loss as to what to do next in the face of such coarse behavior as the husband chased his half dressed wife round the bed, which she then dived across to outflank him and return to the task in hand - distributing the remainder of the contents of the dressing table all over the bedroom! Eventually it took a sharp slap across the face to bring the woman back to her senses. She promptly burst into tears as her husband put his arm round her shoulder - mumbled something about the family problems they had suffered lately, and the menopause, hence her juvenile behaviour and the inappropriate dress sense for women her age, and having discreetly left the room while the woman restored her clothing, I then escorted them back to their car where the poor man apologised again for his wife's distressing behavior before driving off out of my life.
This turn of events left me in a quandry, since I now had the thankless task of clearing up the mess left in their wake. I returned to the bedroom and surveyed the display of feminine lingerie draped about the room - stockings and tights , slips and nightdresses, bras and various other items totally alien to me- apart from seeing photos in girlie magazines - were spread over chairs, dressing tables, or in untidy piles on the carpet or pushed under the bed. Picking up a peach coloured satin slip I cleared a space on the bed and did my best to fold it reverently and return it to the drawer.
I then selected a white lacy girdle type thing, which for some reason or other, didn't seem to want to be folded in half - not at the waist at any rate, as it kept springing back to its former shape! I took my time over each garment I chose to pick up, and handled these delicate belongings with the extreme tips of my fingers, almost fearing they might be highly charged with electricity, or might jump up and bite me - it was a very strange feeling!
As I glanced across at the wardrobe door, I could still see the black dress hanging inside and I recalled the remarks of my recently departed visitors when I was seized with an irresistible compulsion. From the scraps of underwear still laying around the room, I made a careful selection before stripping off my masculine, and then, with some difficulty, replacing it with feminine attire - finishing off with the little black dress. I tried to fit a pair of high heeled shoes on my feet, and after a struggle settled instead for furry mules. One look in that mirror and I was hooked for life as familiar stirrings formed an unsightly bulge which rather spoiled the overall effect that I had created!
2.Caught!
After my first fatal encounter, even though I was unused to such things, I began to buy all the womens' magazines, and learn, by trial and error all I could about the challenges of being, and behaving like a woman. I began to experiment with jewellery, make-up and purchases of feminine clothes made on the cheap from charity shops, and gradually, with increased confidence, utilise the designer clothes available at my clients'premises, at the same time equipping myself with suitable accoutrements, such as wigs, false breasts, cache-sex and high heels which would fit - readily obtainable from mail-order houses. I became fastidious in my shaving habits, even becoming adept at removing my stubble with beeswax - a painful process, but most effective - and undetectable with or without makeup; not that I ever ventured into town or countryside for fear of discovery, settling instead for sunning myself on the terrace or a gentle stroll around the gardens even though this had its risks with cleaners and jobbing gardeners prowling around.
So instead of socialising in my adopted role, I preferred to spend my time keeping the clothing I had 'borrowed' clean and in good repair as well as enjoying the compliments from clients for the spotless condition of my 'special' sole agencies - of which I normally managed to have two or three on the books. I spent less and less time in my own home, preferring instead to become the 'lady of the house' in some highly desirable residences, which mean't keeping two, possibly three - fridges stocked up with food.
Moreover, I had accumulated a complete wardrobe of female clothing at home, having purloined the choicest selection from my clients, which was surrepticiously reflected in a substantial reduction of agency fees to compensate for my wicked, wicked ways! Of course, on many occasions the clients' clothes did not fit, which was another good reason for accumulating my own wardrobe at home.
My reverie was abruptly disturbed by the sound of vehicles fast approaching up the private drive, so I quickly rose from my armchair and crossed to the window where from behind the curtain I could see two cars, one driven by of all people, the infamous Charles Bentall! I realised that the owners must have instructed Charles to assist in the sale of their property, but had failed to inform me of their decision. I panicked and rushed my cup and saucer into the kitchen and hid the evidence, together with a still-warm kettle under the sink, before going over to the kitchen door and waiting for the voices in the hall to drift towards the sitting room so that I could make a quick dash for the master bedroom and hide under the bed. My plan was thwarted as Charles led his prospects up the broad staircase to inspect the rooms on the upper storey while I waited on tenterhooks for the party to return downstairs as I thanked my lucky stars that my clothes were no longer on display in the master bedroom. Fifteen minutes later the party returned downstairs and disappeared into the lounge, as I made an undignified dash for the stairs in my high heels and hurried along to the master bedroom. But an unladylike expletive escaped from my lips as I turned the handle only to discover that the door had been locked, and the realisation dawned that all my keys were in my jacket pocket! "What the devil does 'the lady' do now?" I pondered as I went over to plonk down on a window seat overlooking the garden to await Charles's departure.
Charles claimed to be a family man and made quite a fuss of his three daughters, and he had a beautiful wife to boot! - and he did that literally - since he was believed to be the most outrageous womaniser for miles. I had known Sarah, his long suffering wife ever since we were children, and foolishly I had even introduced the two of them at one of my teenage parties. After they married and started their family, I was invited to be godfather to their first child, since I was a Sunday school teacher at the time, and as a result I kept in touch with the family for awhile, after they moved away, sending them cards and presents at Christmas and birthdays, but after Sarah had twins for some reason we seemed to lose touch - until about three years ago when they moved into a rambling Victorian pile a stones-throw from 'The Oaks'. I had always admired Sarah from afar, and pitied her involvement with Charlie-boy and the way in which he appeared to treat her. Their three girls went to a prep-school run by two eccentric, but charming middle-aged sisters with some peculiar ideas on education - but they produced some good results with their young pupils. I heard footsteps on the gravel drive and crossed the hall to watch the cars drive away leaving me to figure out how best to handle a rather complicated situation. I glanced at the time on my tiny diamante wrist watch - half past two - "my staff will lock up at five if I'm not back," - I muttered to myself, and having dismissed breaking down the door "I must find a change of clothing somewhere - daren't venture out in these 'glad rags' - Better search the other bedrooms." and so I began searching the house, but apart from some childrens' clothes in another bedroom I was unable to find a single stitch suitable for my purposes.
As I came out from the end room in the east wing and glanced along the corridor, I was staggered to find a man outlined against the light from the hall window. "Who - who - are you? - what do you want ?" I squeaked hoarsely along the darkened corridor and with faltering steps advanced to confront the intruder.
"Robert? - or is it Roberta?" A familiar voice echoed down the hall. "Charles!" You scared the life out of me!" I exclaimed with a sigh of relief, forgetting for a moment about my assumed identity as Charles waddled towards me, a grim smile on his fat face. "My Dear - you look ravishing in that get-up - and thats exactly what I would try to treat you to if I wasn't aware of who, or what, you are!" I staggered back with the realisation that my arch-enemy now held me in the palm of his hand! My cover was well and truly blown!
"How long have you known- and does anyone else know?" I whispered as Charles allowed his piggy-eyes to roam freely from the golden tresses of my blonde wig to the tips of my pink 'heels', as he rubbed his hands together as if in anticipation of some great event.
"I have known for some time now - and I have been looking forward to catching you 'in the flesh', as one might say. Sarah knows too - then she is a bit kinky and thought nothing of it." Knowing she was aware of my guilty secret was the last thing I wanted to hear, I thought a lot of her, not that it would help the situation now - it did explain the conspiratorial look she gave me on the most recent occasion when we happened to meet in the local supermarket.
Charles beckoned towards the stairs - "I think we should go downstairs and make ourselves more comfortable while I decide what's to be done with you." But jokingly I ventured to suggest; "Well Charles, you have rather caught me with my trousers down, so perhaps you can unlock the bedroom door, and allow me to change back into my own belongings beforehand?"
"I don't recall seeing any male clothes in the room?" and without thinking I replied that they had been hidden under the bed, and I suspected I would regret my gaffe' as Charles laughed in triumph. "But my dear lady, a charming creature like you doesn't want to wear course, rough trousers like me, I much rather you continue wearing knickers, and in any case, you must permit me to savour my moment of victory - so bloody well do as you are told!"
The rasping interjection appeared to confirm my worst fears for my future. "After the run-around you have given me in the past - don't imagine you will get away from this situation that easily, and golly, am I going to have a ball!" Charles grasped me firmly by my bare arm and escorted me downstairs into the lounge where he pushed me unceremoniously into an armchair while he plonked his fat frame down on the arm-rest alongside.
His earlier, threatening tone had now moderated, so I tried a more 'chummy' approach to resolving my difficulties, as I made so bold as to suggest that there was no malice intended in our previous exchanges. Unfortunately Charles again reddened angrily.
"What about the time I sold the suicide's house and took the prospective buyers along for one final look before they signed on the dotted line? - and cheerily told them the history of the previous owners - only to find the bathroom splattered with fake blood when we arrived! - The wife was hysterical and you cost me the sale." I tittered quietly behind my gloved hand as he continued - "And what is more, the clients called the police and your little prank nearly ended up with me inside!"
I giggled loudly at this revelation and upon regaining my composure replied - "Well I do recall that on one occasion you changed one of my site boards from 'Hart' to read 'Fart', while on another you did leave a condom laid on a note saying 'Hart was here'!" Charles let forth a belly laugh "Well, it should have read 'Hart was Her'!" - but in a moment he was serious again as he glanced at his watch, dismounted the arm of the chair and remarked - "I'm quite peckish after all the excitement - I think I will take you out for a meal."
With this suggestion ringing in my ears, I stiffened and pointed out that the fridge was well stocked with fresh food and I could easily prepare a 'cordon bleu' dish rather than venture out. An oily grin spread over his stupid face. " Robert! - you should have heard of my reputation when it comes to a 'bit of skirt' especially one as classy looking as you!"
He was now virtually drooling in expectant anticipation; - "You should know by now how I like to display my conquests and in your case nothing will stop me from showing you off in public!" My heart skipped a beat at such a uninhibited compliment from my worst enemy, and I visibly paled. - "But Charles, someone might recognize me in the street!" I wailed, in anguish, but he just chuckled, rubbing his podgy hands together with glee.
"That is hardly likely my dear, from where I'm standing - and you must know I couldn't afford to take such a risk - at least if you are daft enough to parade around in women's clothes and be found out - you may rest assured I won't be around at the time!" He licked his lips nervously; - "But just to be on the safe side I will assume you to be your fictitious sister Roberta should anyone remark on the similarity."
3. My first Outing
Charles waddled over to the window reveal and retrieved my pink clutch bag from where I had left it in my frantic haste to avoid discovery, and then came back, and handed it over to me. " I spotted that the minute I walked in here and that's how I knew you were in residence - that and the unlocked door to the bedroom of course!
Now get your skates on and lets go and have something to eat - I am famished!" His command prompted me to stand up, but my trembling knees buckled at the imminent prospect of my first trip out-of-doors thus dressed, trapped in my 'glad-rags', as I plonked down in the armchair again.
"Charles, I think I am going to be sick!" I cried, retrieving my lace handkerchief from my bag and holding it to my mouth. But with eyes blazing, Charles strode over to where I was slumped, took me by the shoulders and shook me violently.
"Now pull yourself together girl - you are coming and that's that!" I suddenly felt weak and ineffective following the shaking I had received- so - docile as a lamb I stood up and was led out to his Triumph TR2, where Charles opened the door and gently helped me into the passenger seat and quietly said - "Now that wasn't too bad, was it?"
But I was in no fit state to respond , feeling helpless and vulnerable and incapable of any positive action as I shrank into a shell of self imposed indifference, my mind now a complete blank, hardly aware of the next few minutes as Charles disappeared back into the house and returned with my suitcase which he loaded into the boot of his car, and after locking the front door, jumped into the driving seat and handed me the keys to 'The Oaks', but held my flat keys aloft for me to see before putting them away in his pocket.
I collected my thoughts enough to remark drily "No need to ask what's in the case, but what about the keys to my flat? " and he patted my nylon clad knee. "I think I will keep hold of those for the time being Roberta" - "Actually I am Denise when I am dressed like this !" I replied smugly." He grinned at my foolish observation. "Roberta I called you, and Roberta you shall remain!" He replied menacingly as he started his car and we roared off down the drive. During the five miles trip to 'Annabells', an exclusive private dining club popular with the fast set, Charles picked up his car-phone and sent a telegram using my name to inform my staff that I would be away on business for a few days. He then rang Sarah and related to her the events of the past hour, and informing her that after a meal he would be driving me back to their residence where 'Roberta' would babysit for his three daughters while he took her out for the evening. "So put your best gear on old girl" was his parting shot as he put down the phone.
"Last time I took her out was two years ago" he announced glibly - "Tonight I really have something to celebrate and all my 'spare' is tied up - so she will have to do!" With this pronouncement I was appalled at the prospect of ever again being able to face Sarah as a man. It seemed Charles had virtually crushed her spirit and was well on the way to crushing mine, and what-is-more as the result of a self imposed wound which would never heal!
I asked him how he could treat such a wonderful person as his wife in such a dowdy manner. "I hardly think you are in a position to question my morals, do you?" and in my emasculated state I promptly dived back into my shell. I spent the rest of the trip trying to compose myself for my enforced 'coming out' in one of my regular daytime haunts, breathing deeply and sitting as comfortably as it is possible in a sports car wearing a seat belt - my nylon clad knees pressed together, my head resting back on the cushioned neck support , my bare arms resting gently by my sides, allowing my gloved hands to toy idly with the pink clutch bag nestling in the skirts of my lap.
When Charles stopped the car, he eased his portly frame out of the driving seat, waddled round and opened the door for me to step out. I hesitated for a moment, but the look on his face convinced me there was no going back, so I undid the safety belt, swung my legs round as elegantly as possibe, placing my high heels firmly on the tarmac before carefully easing myself out of the vehicle and on to my feet with the assistance of my escort's ample arm, and arm in arm we walked the twenty paces or so to the entrance where we were given an effusive greeting by Jules the 'maitre d'hotel'. "Monsieur Charles - welcome to you and your charming friend!"
Charles beamed. "Jules, this is Miss Roberta Hart, she is the sister of that
silly bugger of an src="estate// agent you get in here from time to time!" Jules leaned
forward and the hours of private lessons came into play as I gracefully extended
my slender arm as his lips gently brushed the back of my hand: - "It's a
pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle, your brother has much to answer for, denying
my establishment such a beautiful guest!" 
I blanched at such a genuine and heartfelt greeting! "Thank you Jules, you are most kind, I hope my brother's opinion of Annabells lives up to my expectations." My little speech, delivered in a softer, huskier voice impressed even me, and it certainly pleased Charles as he squeezed my hand encouragingly as Jules led us over to my favourite spot, a table overlooking the river, and any fears I had of being recognised were soon forgotten, as the occasional furtive glances from the other male diners were directed at my long, shapely legs, which boosted my self confidence and I soon settled more comfortably into my role as Roberta - my own sister ! I left the choice of food and wine to Charles, since I was too pre-occupied with the bind I was in, and although he gallantly ordered up one of my favourite meals for the two of us, I just picked at the food on my plate.
Our small talk centered around our school days so I asked him how he had
ended up getting so fat. "You always kept yourself in the peek of condition, at
school - a total success on the sports field, a consumate actor, who always
played the leading girls part in the school plays and musicals - something I
could not, and would not, do!" His eyes twinkled merrily, "Yes, I certainly
pulled the birds at my public school when I appeared on stage as Shakespeare's
'Juliet', I was always the centre of attraction - even with some of the boys!"
Yes - I recalled that Charles even pulled at my heart strings when he was
'Annie' in our prep school musical - he made a pretty girl! - and oh my! - was I
jealous as hell! "Although I might seem quite plump now, I will soon be putting
that to rights! - but why should you worry your tiny head, lovely one - you are
the centre of attraction for now - not me!" From the look in his eyes I knew he
meant all he had just said, even though I involuntarily shuddered with delight
and embarrassment in equal measure. 
After the meal was over as we sat drinking coffee and sipping our liquers I
tentatively asked - "I suppose you bring all your girls out here Charles?" - "Oh
no my dear, only the very special ones, like you!" He reached across the table
and placed his podgy hand over mine, which I withdrew as though stung and he
spluttered an apology. "I hope you aren't getting ideas Charlie boy, I'm not
that sort of girl!" I grinned wickedly at my choice remark, but he stopped
sucking on his cigar and laughed uproariously. "If you think I am wining and
dining you with that in mind, you can forget it! - when you net a prize fish you
don't fry her bacon, and you my lovely have something very tasty to offer!" -
His reply was quite a shock, - "What do you mean by that!" He smiled benignly at
my curiosity, - "That's for you to find out Roberta, but not just yet, and in
any case, since we may be seeing a lot more of each other in the future, we
should try to get along better, don't you think?" - "Not if I can help it you
smarmy bastard!" - was my icy reply as one of my stilletoes found its mark under
the table, as his face registered the pain as he forced a smile. "That's my girl
- I like the ones with loads of spirit" Charles wasn't the type of guy to make
idle threats, but I couldn't see what else there was he could do to me now, I
had assumed his moment of glory had passed, but from his last remarks he had
other plans in the pipeline. "I must go to the loo, Charles." - "Make sure you
use the proper door" was his parting shot as he took a final puff on his cigar
and stood up as I rose to leave the room.
'Well he certainly knows how to treat a lady' I thought to myself privately as I sat in the loo and reviewed the days events and contemplated an uncertain future. There was little doubt that although Charles was a prize slob, he had pulled out all the stops to make a favourable impression - but to what end? I suddenly realised that he still held the trump card, since he was my one and only protector, and held my fate in those substantial hands of his! - His telegram to my ladies had made sure of that, and since I only had the clothes I was standing up in, and my stash of female finery back at 'The Oaks', and no access to money, transport, or even my own flat, what was I to do? - He was quite right - he was still in control like it or not! What my future would bring only time would tell! But I will make that bastard wait, and having stood up from the loo, wiped myself with some toilet paper, pulled up my knickers and panty-hose before brushing my dress tidily back into place, I exited the stall. Taking my make-up bag from out of my handbag, I took an absolute age re-doing my face!
Charles had already settled the bill when I rejoined him at the table as his look of alarm and despondency was replaced by a broad grin of relief. "I thought for awhile then that you had 'done a runner', but without any money I don't think you would have got far my dear!" - "Thats not quite like you Charles? surely you should know by now how long it takes for a lady when she goes to the loo - that's if you go out with any of course!" Charles was lost for words at my cool response as I settled back stylishly into my chair, legs crossed at the ankle, my hands in sweet repose in my lap - I gave myself a silent pat on the back - 'had I made that creature crawl!'
On the trip back to the Bentall residence Charles began to outline his forthcoming plans for my future. He couldn't see much to be gained from public exposure of my proclivities, since it would force me out of business, and my client base was too valuable for that, and in any case another competitor would only come along to restore the status quo! So he hinted at giving me back the keys to my flat , dropping me off at 'the Oaks' and forgetting all about my quaint hobby, but he soon closed the door on that idea - why should he let me off the hook when he had so much to gain and he wasted no more time in outlining his nefarious plan!
Yes, Robert would have to go - he was to disappear once-and-for-all into the closet to be replaced by the delightful Roberta as she took over as a full time residential Nanny to his three girls. "Charles! - you must be joking! -I can't be a Nanny, I haven't been trained." - "Now listen here girl! Sarah say's you are an ideal child carer, - after all, you did babysit for us when Abigail was a baby; and not many batchelors could change a nappy the way you did, I was never any good at it myself; - and you even volunteered to do the ironing while we were out; - although Sarah was mystified as to why you took so much tender loving care over her frillies! - Now we know!" "But your girls are older now, they are not babies any more!- they don't really need a nanny!" - "So what! you were a Sunday school teacher for several years, and are used to keeping older kids in order! - anyway, you will also be an au pair and able to help Sarah round the house." - "More like a skivvy, you mean? - No thanks very much!" I blurted out with anger and frustration." Charles slammed on the brakes and screamed to a halt at the side of the road and turned on me, eyes blazing. "Now listen here 'pansy boy',"- he yelled -"You will listen to me without interrupting, and do exactly what I say from now on : - otherwise I will dump you out on the road here and now in your sissy clothes, if thats what you really want! - do you understand?" With my heart pumping with fear and trepidation, meekly I replied, "Yes Charles - I understand!"
Having cleared the air, he slid the car into gear and we continued the journey home with Charles outlining his plans for my business. And as to my business? He generously offered to let me retain a 25% stake, with Charles taking on the remaining 75%. As to my flat? All my girlie clothes would be moved into his house, while all my male clothes would be dumped, and my flat would then make a nice little pad in which Charles could entertain his 'guests' and avoid some extortionate hotel bills! In exchange he would undertake never to disclose my dark, dark secret to another living soul, otherwise it would be open season with me as the prime target for every local newspaper hack. "But that's blackmail!" I bleated, but he just looked over, placing his hand once again on my bare knee, mentally daring me to move it. "That's right girl! Clever isn't it?" and privately I had to agree! "But I am puzzled about how you found out about these and how long have you known?" I asked, gesturing to my female clothes. "I have always been so careful." He braked to avoid a squirrel and then continued; "Not careful enough, I discovered your guilty secret after I had taken instructions from Colonel Smythe to sell 'The Oaks'.
It was a week ago when I was walking home from one of my late night dates and I saw a light in one of the upstairs windows, and naturally enough came up the drive to investigate, so finding your car round the side of the house was intruiging since you had always seemed such a straight-laced bloke so I thought you must have some skeletons rattling around in your cupboards somewhere - although I now know those skeletons were only women's clothes!
So I couldn't resist creeping up the outside fire escape and peeping through the half- open curtains. I must say your surprise guest was quite stunning, I was most impressed as she stood there in her sexy white basque,see-through slip and lacy topped nylon stockings, back-combing her long hair in a full length mirror, while I was positively drooling at the free leg show, so of course I hung around waiting for you to appear so that I could enjoy the climax." I blushed to the roots at the thought of Charles in his role as a Peeping-Tom standing outside on that balcony and drooling over seeing me in my ladies undies as I lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, preparing myself for my forthcoming confrontation with Sarah, while Charles rattled on with his story.
"After fifteen minutes it was damned cold out on that balcony in my flimsy clothes, I'm telling you - while this bird inside the room sat down at the dressing table and did her face-job before settling down in a chair to do some reading. Of course it was the phone call that gave you away! "Oh yes," - I replied dreamily - "My calls were being transferred, so I could hardly disguise my voice then, could I?" - "It was quite a shock with this bloke's voice coming from this lovely creature, - especially when I realised I recognised the voice - I couldn't get off that balcony fast enough and I fell down the last few stairs - properly winded I was!" I giggled out loud at the thought of Charles scuttling down the fire escape in the pitch black and ending up in a pile on the ground. "Well, you got what you deserved!" - I replied blithely. -"And so will you my girl, come on out you get!"
4. Twin Trouble
It was getting dark as we pulled up outside Charles's house and were soon crunching across his drive when the front door flew open and into view rushed Sarah and her three daughters, Sarah in slacks and a top, while the three girls were dressed ready for bed.
"Roberta it's so nice to see you again after all this time!" Sarah came up and pecked me lightly on the cheek before turning to introduce me to my ten year old god-daughter, Abigail, and the identical twins, Patricia and Samantha. "Darlings, this is Aunty Roberta and she is going to babysit, while Mummy and Daddy go out for the evening." - "It's lovely to see you all, girls, mmy! how you have grown Abigail!"- and although the three were friendly enough I could tell they knew more about me than I would have wished!
Charles then ushered me into the lounge leaving Sarah to put the children to bed while Charles continued to spout about my future, but I was otherwise engrossed, thinking about Sarah upstairs with her young charges. Eventually she re- appeared dressed in a sleeveless yellow and white polka-dot dress with a dropped waist, wide black belt and black accessories, while beneath the full skirt peeped layer upon layer of black net petticoats, so I was very glad I was well tucked in 'down below', thus hiding any incriminating bulge!
Sarah took me into the kitchen and showed me where everything was, then well
out of earshot of Charles she quietly whispered - "It is cruel of Charles to
take advantage of you in this way, he has much to answer for himself - but
perhaps us girls will be able to put one over on him when the time is ripe!" I
shrugged my pretty shoulders and smiled down into her face. "I don't mind what
he does to me in the least Sarah, as long as I can spend some more time with
you!"
But Sarah backed away, a troubled look on her face, turning to respond to the clarion call from the other room "Come on old girl - we haven't got all night!" but I was rewarded with a wistful smile as Sarah grabbed her coat in the hall and disappeared through the front door and out into the night to join an impatient Charles now seated in the car. I waited about fifteen minutes before creeping upstairs to find out where the chidren were bedded, - they were all sound asleep, Abigail in one bedroom and the twins in a double bed in the other, they looked so sweet lying there and cuddling each other.
I returned downstairs, went into the kitchen, helped myself to a beer and went back into the lounge to settle down and watch the television. It was about an hour later, while I was curled up on the settee watching the news, that I heard a noise on the stairs, and on going to the lounge door I found two frightened twins in their pink nighties standing in the hallway with tears streaming down their cheeks.
I hurried across, crouched down, and taking one child in each arm soothed them quietly as they rested their little heads on my shoulders and gently ran my fingers through their long, shining tresses. "There, there Darlings, what on earth is the matter? Tell Aunt Roberta." In between gulps Samantha announced "Patricia has wet the bed, and she has wet my nightie as well!" Patricia then chimed in - "But Aunty Roberta - I didn't mean to - it just happened!"
"Tut tut girls, if thats all it is - don't worry - I did it myself myself
when I was a little girl of your age." and having calmed them down I took them
into the lounge, sat them together on the settee in front of the T.V. and went
off to find clean linen in the airing cupboard, then went upstairs, stripped the
bed, remade it and then went to fetch the two girls back upstairs, taking them
into the bathroom to help them into clean nightdresses, where we were promptly
joined by Abigail.
But as I lifted Patricia's soiled nightie up and over her head I made an amazing discovery! As the little girl looked down at the little protruberence she shyly turned away and asked - "Aunty, do you have one of these, down there?" I staggered back with surprise as the three 'girls' grinned cheekily, amused by the look of shocked horror on my scarlet face, knowing that I too had been found out, but I recovered sufficiently to hide Patricia's little secret in the folds of a clean blue cotton nightdress. "B - But who told you that, darling?" - "Our mummies told us, but don't worry, the twins and I are good at keeping secrets!" Abigail's reply had me pondering whether Samantha was also concealing a secret, so it was a relief to find she was perfectly normal, for a girl that is!
The girls then asked if they could come downstairs again just to watch the end of the wild life programme I had been watching, so I reluctantly agreed as they snuggled down on the settee around me to hear the arguments put forward for and against rearing endangered species in captivity. "Does your Mummy and Daddy take you to the zoo?" I asked the trio and Patricia pulled a face and said "But we don't have - Ouch!" He let out a little squeal as Abigail cut in - "We went to Longleat last year with Mummy in Aunty Janet's posh car." My ears pricked up, - "Oh yes little one, and who is Janet?"" - Samantha's whispered reply had me thinking, - "She is mummy's secret friend - and she isn't really our aunty!" I decided to curtail further questioning since one of my ladies was called Janet and was in charge of my office in my absence, and she certainly fitted the bill, although I had no inkling of any collaboration with the Bentalls if it was one and the same person, it did give me cause for concern, so I could check it out later - once things got back to normal.
When the programme finished I lost no further time in bundling a happy trio back into their beds, giving them all a 'night-night' kiss and retreating downstairs to recover from delayed shock after finding Patricia's 'little secret'! 'So that must be what Charles mean't when he said Sarah was a bit kinky' I ruminated, finally resolving to raise the matter with Charles when he returned home, and with such evidence perhaps he didn't have me in such a bind as he thought!
Unfortunately, Charles was in no fit state to discuss anything when they arrived back at about midnight and Sarah and I both struggled upstairs with him and bundled him on to the bed. "Don't you two sleep together?" was my innocent enquiry as he laid spreadeagled across the single bed. "You should know his reputation by now" - was Sarah's sharp reply - "I have slept in the spare room for the past five years, but if you want to sleep with him Robert, please carry on - be my guest - after all, he seems totally besotted by you!"
I suddenly felt wobbly at the knees; - "But I'm only a guy in a dress?" I pleaded as she gave me a withering look, - "Get real girl! take a good look in the mirror! Any stud worth his salt would get the hots for a nice looking chick like you, and try to get you to drop your knickers, especially with a voice like that! I could even fancy you myself!" Her barbed reply was more than I could have hoped or expected, but I responded in kind. " I don't bat for the same side, since I'm not a girl, and in any case there is only one person I would drop my knickers for, and I think you know who that person is! I have also discovered that one of your twins isn't a girl either, so Charlie-boy doesn't hold all the trumps!"
Sarah turned away and I suddenly felt cheap and nasty, and while she struggled to undress her husband, I discreetly disappeared downstairs and into the lounge. I suddenly realised that with Charles out cold, I could easily go upstairs to recover my keys from his suit pocket, so I trotted to the foot of the stairs and then hesitated.
Logically I could march upstairs and put my life back together again, using his car keys to retrieve my suitcase from the boot of his car, changing into my mens clothes and returning to my 'normal' life. I also knew that such an act would project me back into the wilderness instead of the possibility of remaining in close proximity to Sarah for the foreseeable future, if Charlie-boy had his way, but with my mind in turmoil and unable to resolve the dilemma, I took the illogical choice, and in my newly discovered role as a stuffed doll, returned to sit mutely and patiently on the settee in the lounge, but still breathing heavily following my tiff with Sarah.
When Sarah finally re-appeared, having first checked the children, she made her feelings quite clear. "I suppose I will have to run you home?" and I replied that was impossible since my house keys were upstairs in Charles's room, but perhaps she could run me over to 'The Oaks'. She looked down at me and shrugged her shoulders in disbelief. "That's only just down the road, surely you can walk that short distance, even in high heels, and in any case what sort of wimp are you? Go and get your keys from upstairs this minute! They are on his dressing table and then we can sort this mess out!" She snapped, and that's when I snapped as I started to cry - me cry! - as for the first time in my life I cried and cried and cried, so Sarah came over, sat on the settee and cradled me in her arms.
"There, there, you silly goose, come on now dearest and let me blow your nose and you will feel much better, after all, your problems are solved when you go and get those keys, and things can then get back to normal!" My reaction was to burst once again into floods of tears as I gulped - "B-u-t, I don't want things to go back to normal. - Umm, I would much rather be your children's nanny and be close to you than going back to being a dull old src="estate// agent."
"Come on now Roberta, cheer up and dry those pretty mince-pies of yours, you are ruining your make-up, its not the end of the world you know, - Then I will run you back to 'The Oaks' in my Jag!" Sarah's next remark as she wiped my eyes with her hanky showed she had read, and accepted the situation perfectly. "After all, we can't have a vulnerable young lady out walking after dark, can we? - I will lend you one of my coats and in the cold light of day after a good nights sleep we can decide what you and I really want to happen, and meanwhile we will leave your flat keys where they are."
Sarah gave me one more hug and led me into the hall where she helped me into one of her spring coats, then wrapped her car coat round her shoulders as protection against the chilly wind outside, before we linked arms and made our way out to her car for the short trip to 'The Oaks', knowing only too well that I had taken what may be the first step towards revitalising my humdrum life, having irreversibly dictated the way forward by choosing to leave my tenuous future in the hands of my arch-enemy!
5.Secrets shared
We arrived back at 'The Oaks', and as Sarah followed me towards the door, she
visibly shivered in the biting wind - "This is the first time I have seen this
place close up; - It's an eerie place for sure, Roberta, let's go in together."
So I unlocked the door, stepped over the thresh-hold and groped for a light
switch. 
"There, that's better, come on in Sarah, lets go and have a coffee." And having removed our coats we trotted out to the kitchen, where a steaming hot drink soon warmed us, as we sat opposite each other across the breakfast bar, our nylon clad legs enmeshed, and rubbing gently together, out of sight, but not out of mind! Sarah asked me how I found out about Patricia, so I related the bed-wetting episode which she said hadn't happened since they were toddlers. "But why did you dress Patrick as a girl?"
Her eyes twinkled merrily, "I might ask you the same question! - But it all began when they were three - until then they were dressed exactly the same in pretty matching dresses with ribbons in their long, fair, curly hair, - they made such an adorable looking pair of twin girls and were always mistaken as such!"
"It was Charles who insisted that Patrick should be shorn of his curly locks,
and despite both twins heart-rending protests we began to dress him in shorts
and shirts. Both twins went down with a psychosomatic illnesses and it took six
months - until Patrick's hair had grown to a reasonable length again before they
showed any sign of recovery, while all of the time we had constant fights to
keep him in trousers - by the end of most days he was once again in a dress -
with the connivance of both of his sisters." 
"It was on medical advice that we reverted to the status quo and both twins have thrived ever since - but of course we couldn't send him to school as Patrick, so he has always been called Patricia ever since. We have from time to time tried to put him back into pants, but without success." Sarah then asked me how many times I had ventured out 'dressed' and when I told her this was my first time she was astounded at how convincing I was as a girl, a light, seductive lilt to my voice, mannerisms and dress sense worthy of a top model, and even reasonably good looks, - for a man that is! But she offered to give me some make-up lessons, since she felt I needed some more practice with the eye-liner. "Well I have spent hours and hours practising you know!"
I spluttered embarrassed at her compliments. I then volunteered parts of my life story to date which I could never disclose to anyone else, and when I had finished Sarah asked me what my plans were for the future, and whether I would wish to be a woman full-time. "I'm afraid at the moment that decision is in Charlies hands - and yours of course!"
Sarah lean't across the table and gently touched my hand as she murmured; -
"If you have changed your mind, I can bring the keys to your flat with me when I
come back early tomorrow?" An enquiry I chose to leave unanswered. "Do you have
to go tonight?" I asked, plaintively, as Sarah rose from her seat, but she
didn't answer as I accompanied her to the front door and retrieved her car-coat;
but as I opened the front door, she allowed our lips to touch briefly before
disappearing into the night.
As I undressed down to my undies and sat at the dressing table, removing my tired old layer of make-up I began to analyse the past day's events - and I had been left with much to ponder over - particularly the pleasureable feeling evoked from the tender touch of those rose-tinted lips upon my own.
Sarah had embraced me before, many years ago, but in those days a peck on the cheek was as much as I was allowed to savour - so was her reaction a hint as to what was to come? - And what about Charles and his nefarious plans for my business and for me in the effeminised role of nanny to his three 'girls'.
How would he react if Sarah and I were to engage in 'hanky-panky' of our own - and were found out? - and what would tthe children think? It was several days ago that Sarah had been told of his plan, but had failed to dissuade him from his goal - almost total dominance and subjugation of me and my business affairs, and he had even made preliminary arrangements with his solicitor - he was so sure of his ground, even judging that I would not risk exposure, but not just simply for personal and business reasons, but- in his view - more for the sake of the old school tie, since our old public school was only just down the road!
His arrival at 'The Oaks' with local clients had even been preplanned, he had connived for two sets of would be buyers to be available to view the property, directing one pair to call at my offices claiming we had a joint agency, and that I was taking responsibility for showing people round, so he was well aware of my movements in the early afternoon.
He had even asked his secretary to ring Janet in my office to confirm the viewing on behalf of the client and who had made all the arrangements - just in case I became suspicious! - So it came as no surprise for him to find me dressed up to the nines whatsoever, and so was able to take full advantage of the situation, and arrange for my 'demise', having it in mind for the steadfast Aunty Roberta taking over in my place, in a role Sarah even knew I was well-suited for, after all, my cooking skills were legendary, so provided I was prepared to adopt the role of au pair stroke nanny - then I was her man!
Having removed my flimsy underwear and washed my panty-hose out in the
bathroom, and completed all the other necessities of a well brought up young
lady, I slipped into a fresh, clean, full-length satin nighty in pale lavender,
and slid comfortably between the sheets, although I still hankered after the
companionship of half an hour ago.
6. My trip to the village
The following morning was Saturday, and I woke at about seven after a restless night, tossing and turning, my mind in a turmoil as to what was the best thing to do. I put on an old fashioned nylon pegnoir and took my soiled linen downstairs, loaded it into the washer/dryer before settling down for a light breakfast.
My eyes were drawn to the telephone as I debated whether to make that call to Sarah to restore my life more or less to the way it was before, knowing only too well that my life could never be the same again - so I just sat at the breakfast bar placidly eating my cereals, and perfectly happy to accept my fate, and all that might bring - good or bad! The car drawing up outside soon brought me back to earth with a bang, but it was the comforting crunch of Sarah's sandals on the gravel, followed by her gentle voice on the security intercom that greeted me as I pressed the catch to let her in.
"I'm in the kitchen" I called, and moments later she appeared in the doorway looking as desirable as ever. "Come on girl! aren't you dressed yet? - we have a busy day ahead of us!" Sarah was dressed in an ankle length straight sleeveless cotton dress, printed all over with huge yellow and orange flowers, and brown flatties on her feet. She trotted over and rewarded me once again with a tender kiss on the lips, to which I again resisted from reacting too strongly, contenting myself with taking her hand in mine.
"Did you bring the keys!" I blurted, then wished my tongue had been cut out as Sarah made a play to take something out of her shoulder bag and my heart involuntarily sunk. But from the look on her face I realised she hadn't. "But you never rang so I left them at home, - after all Roberta, that is what we agreed wasn't it!- but I will go and fetch them if you like, his lordship won't surface until well after lunch after the skinful he had last night." - "Umm. I would rather you didn't do that Sarah, if you don't mind, so I would much rather we go upstairs so that I can get dressed, and you can help me with my make-up."
She gave me such a look of triumph that I began to question whether I was doing the right thing - perhaps she was behind Charles's elaborate plot all along! - After all he wasn't particularly well-endowed with the grey matter, even though he seemed to score trumps elsewhere! After all - I heard there are some wives who get a terrific buzz out of knowing their menfolk sleep around - they say it does their ego the world of good!
Meanwhile, as Sarah lead the way, she trotted up the dog-leg staircase, and made her way along the landing to my bedroom, where she perched on the edge of the unmade bed while I went through to wash and dress in the bathroom, having first selected my underwear from the dressing table - pink satin bra and belt, matching lace edged slip and french 'knicks', falsies and melon nylon stockings, while Sarah made small talk through the half-open door.
"Pretty in pink!" she giggled as I returned to the room giving a low wolf whistle at my choice of lingerie as I blushed profusely, having left my housecoat behind the bathroom door. Sarah had remade my bed and suggested I sit at the dressing table while she applied some of her make-up to my face. "I don't think you need much blusher darling!" She remarked drily as she attacked my skin with relish.
"By the way - I owe you an apology on behalf of the twins." - "How come?" I asked - "All three were perfectly behaved and no trouble at all!" She was now applying eye-liner to the rims of my eyes. "Patricia didn't wet the bed last night. It was very naughty of them but they deliberately wet their nighties with warm water from the bathroom tap and then used a wet sponge to create a pool in their bed. - I gather they wanted you to know their little secret and in return share Aunty Roberta's - so I think you may now consider yourself one of the family!" "Saucy little monkeys! - so all that crying was faking - just wait until 'Aunty' sees them again!" as I laughed out aloud at their clever ruse.
"I also told them you might be their full-time nanny and Mummies companion, and they were ecstatic at the news." - "I think that depends upon you Sarah?" I replied, with a barely concealed sigh. By now she had completed my eyes with a touch of eye-shadow and mascara, and was applying a lip liner. "There now, Roberta, just a smiggen of blusher to those rosy cheeks, and a dab of my lipstick to finish the job."
Having finished with my face, and carefully fitted my long, blonde wig in place, and vigorously combed it out, she took a pale pink set of false nails out of her handbag, as well as some adhesive and an emery board, lightly sanding my nails, and having applied the adhesive she fixed the false nails in place. "But I have never worn false nails before! - and isn't it rather early in the day?"" - "It's never early enough for you preciious! - after all you have a lot of catching up to do!"
"Amen to that!" I whispered quietly as she smiled serenely. "How do I look?" I asked her, seeking her approbation. - "Like every mans' wet dream!" Sarah replied jokingly, but I certainly didn't enjoy the joke one bit! "Don't always be so serious, lighten up!" She chided as I fiddled around undecided what to wear, but she went over and selected a powder blue gingham two piece suit with a straight, knee length skirt with a small slit at the back, and a short sleeved jacket with lapels and three buttons down the front.
As I slid into these garments with Sarah looking on I felt so happy that my audience on this occasion was not pouring scorn on my efforts, as I told her of the time many years ago when I was caught by my father whilst wearing my cousin's undies, having purloined a collection of her cast-offs from her dress-up box. He insisted I complete my transformation into a little girl and made me wear a pale blue lace party dress with short, puffy sleeves, liberally supported with net petticoats, (which I absolutely adored), and matching frilly panties, while he stood watching, as he ridiculed me with every name under the sun before cruelly depositing me on our front doorstep of our terraced house for over an hour to give all the neighbours to something to gawp at! My best friend just happened by and dashed home to get his camera, and took a whole reel of photographs, but he wasn't my friend after that!
"Well young lady, at least this time around you do have the choice! - by the way, we are going into Shere before I take you home, so stand still while I choose some costume jewellery for you to wear." It suddenly dawned on me that my moment of truth had arrived! "B-But its broad daylight out there!" I replied anxiously.
"No buts - you have already been out with Charles." - "That wasn't to the village though - I don't think I can go through with it this time!" - "Chickening out already are we? - lost our nerve have we? - You are the weakest link! - Goodbye!" she sneered, but I drew myself up to my five foot something and blurted. "No I haven't - come on then Sarah let's get on with it." Sarah put an opal necklace round my neck, an opal ring on my finger, with matching clip-on earings , spritzed me with Chanel's 'Allure' before I replaced my fluffy mules with black platforms with two inch heels. I then felt the need to steal a kiss from Sarah; - "Not now darling," she countered - "We will spoil our make-up!"
So with Sarah as moral support we drove off to the village to pick up a few groceries for lunch from the village shop, while I sat in the passenger seat tingling with excitement and anticipation of things to come! Sarah Parked the car in the 'Green Man' car park and having got out and locked her door, Sarah walked round and opened my door.
"Come on now Roberta, time to face your public!" as she leaned over and
unfastened my seat-belt. "Sarah you are an angel" I whispered and while she was
still leaning over me I gave her a strong passionate kiss full on the lips to
which she momentarily responded in kind! Then she breathlessly pulled away and
gasped - "That's enough of that!" yanking me out of the vehicle and slamming the
door behind me. She then looked down at my skirt - "You had better hide that with
your handbag!" and I glanced down to find my skirt protruding in a most
unladylike way!
In my haste to get into my undies, I had forgotten to tuck myself properly out of sight, so I had no choice but to ' clip clop' awkwardly across the car park towards the village shop alongside Sarah, trying to hide the prominent bulge in my tight skirt with a hardly adequate handbag, holding the handles daintily in my hands as it hung and swung to and fro in front of, and about level with my midriff!
Sarah was greeted by Miss Jones from behind the counter, and as the two exchanged pleasantries, I realised I was on nodding aquaintance with the other three female shoppers present in the shop, but thankfully they were engrossed in making their purchases, while I stood quietly and impassively in the background my male symbol slowly subsiding out of sight, fortunately concealed by my handbag as Sarah brought me abruptly into the game!
"Oh by the way Miss Jones, this is Miss Roberta Hart, she is the sister of our rival src="estate// agent." With five sets of eyes now focussed on me I nodded an ackowledgement at the old lady as she peered at me through her glasses. "What do you think of Shere Miss Hart?" - "Err! - Oh very nice indeed!" I replied quietly and hesitatingly, but somewhat unconvincingly in a squeaky voice much higher than usual, so I thought it as well to throw them a few more crumbs.
"I particularly like the flower arrangements in the church!" - I had struck a soft spot that pleased the old dears no end, and they smiled contentedly at my riposte! "You are so much like that nice young man, a bit on the lanky side, but much prettier of course!" - "I agree", cut in Miss Davis, and then sniffed - "I don't approve of the nail varnish though!"- "You old 'fuddy-duddy' Rachel Davis, - it looks very nice dear!" - Then Gwen Taylor joined in, - a woman I had never particularly liked even though she was the vicars wife. - "I just love your dress sense Roberta dear, - the plain black slipover and your yellow linen skirt definitely suit you - sets your slim legs off nicely, - it's too young for me though, - and the vicar would never approve! - He says I have to hide up my ugly legs!" In the face of such undivided attention it was my turn to sense a feeling of elation as Sarah grinned cheekily from behind the cans of baked beans!
"Where is your brother by the way? - I'm surprised he isn't here to show you off!" - "Tut - tut Gwen! - I expect she would prefer to be shown off by her boyfriend - not her brother!" - "Umm. actually I don't have a boyfriend." 'Thank goodness' I muttered quietly to Sarah. "Actually Gwen, Mr. Hart is away on business, it just so happened that Charles and I are looking for a Norland's trained nanny, and Robert mentioned his sister might fit the bill, so she is staying with us to see how she gets on with the children!" - "Well my dear I hope you take the job, and then we will see you and that nice brother of yours in church on Sundays."
By now Sarah had made her purchases, and having said our goodbyes, we made our way to the door and out into the sunshine. "Bravo!- Roberta; - You passed the test with those four old crows with flying colours! - now lets go and have a coffee."
So having deposited the shopping in the car, we were comfortably seated in the 'Green Man' while George the barman served us strong black coffee, giving me the once over at the same time, prompting Sarah to make the briefest of introductions before urging him on his way so that she could get down to more serious business.
"I managed to get Charles to agree to a more equitable three way split in a partnership agreement he wants you to sign." Her suggestion fell on deaf ears as I pressed ahead with an agenda of my own "Do you think I am doing the right thing, Sarah? - seeing I am doing this for you!" Sarah looked troubled: "Please don't say that Robert. - It has to be your own free choice and for your own reasons, - not conditional upon what I may think, say, or do afterwards, so just sleep on it!".
Sarah paid the bill, and we made our way outside. "It's time for your ultimate test! - time for you to be introduced to your brother's staff young lady!" I looked at her in shock; - "I can't possibly do that Sarah! - They will recognise me for sure!" My protests fell on deaf ears as she took me firmly by the arm and marched me across the street towards to my office, pausing briefly to look in Madame Sasha's lingerie window, and eye-ball the delicious selection of foundation garments, pointing out two or three items which she felt would look good on me, rather than the down market selection I was wearing at the moment. "Where did you buy your lingerie from, Roberta?" - "Oh, mail order from the Sunday magazines." I replied to which she sniffed - "You will be buying them from here in future young lady! From now on we must have you looking, and feeling right from the skin out." She remarked, before we continued the few yards up the road to march in through the door of my office.
"Morning girls! - We understand Robert is away for a few days." Debbie and Janet looked up "That's right Mrs,. Bentall, we had a telegram this morning," responded Debbie. "That's unfortunate, only this is Roberta Hart, Mr. Hart's sister - she is paying a surprise visit and will be staying with us for a few days."
I nodded to the girls and smiled a greeting as the two exchanged meaningful glances, while seemingly trying not to laugh out loud, judging by the twisted looks on their faces, as Sarah related details of the job offer that had been made to me by Charles. "So you might be a permanent resident in the village, Miss? Pity Mr. Hart isn't here any more, - It would have been nice for him to have his long lost sister around, - he was a bit of a loner we know, but he never, ever mentioned you, - He only used to recall his late parents; - so were you very close?"
I wriggled uncomfortably in my borrowed plumes at Janet's probing and tried to ignore the last question, as she openly discussed me in the past tense - as though I no longer existed, transmogrified into the creature before them. "Umm. that's if old Charles finds me suitable for the post, you know what he is like when it comes to us girls!"
The stares from my staff at my throwaway remark reminded me my bladder was
full, and my skirt was once again changing shape. "Do you mind if I use your
loo?" I asked and gladly scuttled away to recover my nerves and re-arrange my
underwear after my obvious gaffe. I sat in the toilet deep in thought. 'No - I
had never felt comfortable when Janet was around, she always made me feel
inadequate, as though I was being treated like a small child, what with her
'power dressing' and so on - although she was a real looker, and she certainly
ran my office like clockwork, but my biggest gripe was her swanky car standing
outside in the square! 
Debbie, on the other hand was a quiet girl, with some charming ways who lived in the village with her boyfriend, but was overawed by the Janet in the same way I was!'
Having freshened up I returned to the fray, to find Sarah winding things down with some small talk of her own, although the telephone ringing in the background once again put me on edge. "Please answer that, Debbie!" - I barked as Sarah looked at me in dismay and without further ado, grabbing me by the arm, we scuttled off while not only Debbie, but even Janet hastily grabbed a phone, as we left them to make some sort of sense out of what they had just seen and heard, although it was obvious they already recognised me for the fairy that I really was. Sarah chuckled away with enjoyment.
"Did you see their faces! That has given those two something to think about, especially Janet - the look on her face! - She was jealous as hell! - Did you know she goes out with Charles occasionally!" I gasped with surprise. "Oops! - An enemy in my own camp Eh! - and I have just thought of something else!" _ "What's that?" she asked - "I think I left the toilet seat Up!" We jumped into Sarah's car and were just exiting the car park, when Janet breathlessly chased across the road waving in the air as she shouted out - "Miss Hart, you left your handbag in the ladies toilet!"
Sarah halted the car as I wound down my window, and she passed me the errant bag. "Just in case you are having your periods dear! We wouldn't want you caught out would we?" Both Sarah and Janet sniggered at her choice remark which by it's nature had put a different complexion on things, since it would appear that any threats of blackmail from Charles held little substance.
"Bye - bye dear, see you again soon - and give my love to Charl----!" Janet called after me as Sarah drove off down the road. "She has well and truly cooked my goose!" I remarked quietly to Sarah. "No she hasn't, girl! - I have already forwarned Janet of your little hobby, and both girls face instant dismissal if they ever mention it to anyone else! Local office jobs are few and far between round here, as you should well know, and since both ladies have large mortgages which you kindly arranged on their behalf, they are hardly likely to risk their livelihoods tittle tattling about their former boss, - do you?" Sarah's revelation properly took the wind out of my sails. "Umm. but I am still their boss!" I exclaimed with alarm. "Hmm. it didn't sound like it to me! Janet spoke to you as though she were addressing a blonde bimbo, - and an airhead at that!- not a thriving and successful businessman - so just remember that next time!"
"But surely, at the end of the day she was only reacting to the way I was dressed, that's all?" She smiled grimly - "Try telling that to the marines" she replied, with undiguised relish! "That means they have me by the balls !" Sarah smiled sweetly - "No! It is Charles and I have you by the balls, - and we will have them ripped off when the time is right! - with your tacit approval of course! - So lie back and enjoy!" I gasped at such a crass remark from Sarah - even if what she said turned out to be the case, given time - and my own inclination to take such a drastic step.
But it seemed I was completely out of control of events, just putty in their
hands, my destiny having already been decided for me, without either my
knowledge or prior consent, especially with that solicitor fellow calling this
afternoon to sign away power of attorney over my own affairs to myself of all
people! - but at least I would have Sarah and her children close at hand by way
of compensation for some time into the forseeable future. 
"Why have you placed me in this bind with that monster of yours? - why do you put up with the way he behaves?" - Sarah smiled grimly "I have sound, personal reasons for staying with that errant husband of mine for so long; but it is all soon going to change pet, - and he isn't all that bad - just wilful - and he is kind in his owwn way as you will soon find out!"
"But what about my future? I don't mind being a nanny and au pair, and although I enjoy cooking, being a skivvy doesn't really appeal to me!" I had raised what appeared to be my one objection to Charles's plan although I also had dreams of having to dress as a sexy french maid resulting in Charles finding my charms irresitable and chasing me around from morning till night, even though such thoughts were far fetched. "As far as the skivvying is concerned, you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that, we do have an occasional daily who helps me out with the routine chores, she does the washing up, dusts and vacuums the house and tidies up the girl's rooms. She is unavailable at the moment, but she is an absolute treasure - and the girls love her and treat her as their second Mummy!" - "Perhaps I will supplant her in that role?"- was my reply- "Hardly likely" was Sarah's cool response.
7.Robert signs his 'death warrant'
We arrived back home, and as the car halted, the three Bentall girls, squealing with delight, skipped down the side of the house dressed in peasant style long dresses, happy that Aunty Roberta had come back as they greeted us both with hugs and kisses. "Hello darlings - it's so nice to see you all again." as I responded with a warmth and sincerity that surprised even me! "Are you going to live with us, Aunty Roberta? - enquired Sweet Samantha. "Now children, you must wait and see, so run along and play in the garden, I have things to discuss with Father." - "Perhaps they would like a cold drink first Sarah ?" - and three pint-sized heads nodded their pony-tails in unison and they rushed off ahead as I made my way to the kitchen while Sarah went upstairs to find Charles.
After the three girls downed their drinks, the twins took me firmly by the
hands and with Abigail leading the way, insisted on showing me round the garden,
pointing out such items of interest as their very own overgrown vegetable patch,
the tree house, a doggy grave, and their favourite hidy-hole, hidden behind the
rotary clothes line. I couldn't help noticing Sarah's somewhat dated colourful
selection of frilly paper nylon and net bouffant petticoats in amongst the
display of exotic lingerie hanging out in the fresh air to dry.
"Does Mummy still wear those pet?" I casually asked Abigail and she glanced her mother's smalls before hesitating with her reply. "Umm, w-ell sort of! - They do when they are in the right mood." Before I could respond she sped across the lawn to where the twins were now playing on the swings, but as I trotted over to join them, Sarah called to me from the french windows with the news that Charles was waiting in the lounge, so instead we made our way hand in hand to find out what fate had in store for me.
For a guy who had had a skinful the night before, Charles seemed remarkably resilient as he stood up from his armchair greeting us both with a friendly smile as we entered the room and beckoning for us to sit down on the settee. "You are still with us then Roberta? - I thought by now you might have chickened out while you had the chance, - Sarah was quite right, obviously you are made of sterner stuff than I thought!" - "Now Roberta dear - I think it is time for a pow-wow don't you?" But Sarah cut in "Cut the crap Charles!" she snorted "Let her hear the bottom line! she has been kept waiting long enough - so get on with it! - Otherwise I will!"
"Whoops - bad move" I thought, expecting the shit hit the fan as Sarah received a whap across the face for her indiscretion. But no! - his face just went crimson with embarrassment at her full frontal assault. - "Umm, you had better tell her dear." he mumbled in a nervous whisper. "That's better big boy!" With this remark ringing in our ears Sarah smirked in triumph and ordered Charles to go and make some coffee, and he promptly scuttled out through the door before Sarah turned her attention to me.
"I have arranged for my solicitor Mr. Sloane to call round this afternoon to pick up your brother's power of attorney, so that he may pass a copy on to Mr. Chappell, but he needs Robert's signature on the document, properly signed, sworn and witnessed, which does present us with a problem." - "But that means giving me some of my clothes back?" "Ah yes - exactly, unless of course you were ill, and in bed, say with pyjama tops round your shoulders?" - "I hadn't thought of that." I replied, quietly relieved at not being given the opportunity to make a sober choice, wearing a sober suit, soberly redifining my future; but recklessly leaving it instead for Charles to decide, with the connivance of Sarah, while I just felt an earnest desire for my life to be transformed - but to what extent? - That remained to be seen. I then held up ten brightly decorated digits - "I can easily remove my make-up, but what about these?"
She laughed "I have some pink marigolds that can cover those up darling, we can say its part of your medical condition - in any case he is so short-sighted he won't even notice; - Oh! and here comes the waiter with the coffee!" - This was a side of Sarah I had never, ever, seen, and as Charles slunk away I wondered how many more surprises were in store for me, and as to whether I would regret my decision!
After lunch, Mr. Sloane arrived and was escorted to the guest room where I was sitting up in bed wearing those smelly rubber gloves and one of Charles's oversized pyjama tops draped round my slender shoulders, blissfully aware that the bedclothes conveniently hid the delicate ladies lacy undergarments which it pleased me to wear.
"Hello Mr. Roberts!" - he blared in my ear - "Not feeling so good I hear?" - I nodded my somewhat befuddled head inn tacit agreement - thanks to a generous alchoholic lunch as he fumbled with his old leather briefcase and eventually produced a sheaf of paper including my 'death warrant' for my signature as I willingly assigned my future to the tender, loving care of my newly invented 'sister' ably abetted by Charles and Sarah as they witnessed my swearing and duly endorsed the document on the dotted line, both exchanging expressions of triumph as they did so! After the old boy had done his stuff and been shuffled off by Sarah and Charles to finish the dastardly deed, I jumped out of bed and hastily ripped off the pyjama top and those horrible pink rubber gloves before dashing into the en-suite to re-do my face, while ten minutes later a breathless enebriated Roberta was out in the garden eager to tell the children the news they had been waiting to hear, but still somewhat worried by a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach which was not necessarily due to the drink!
Sorting out and retrieving my ladies clothes from various locations and lovingly arranging them in my more than adequate walk-in wardrobe took most of the weekend, and the exercise was a brief opportunity for me to exchange my skirts for girl's slacks before retreating once again to the safe haven of my dresses as the 'grace and favour guest' of the Bentalls and all the hazards my stupid, senseless decision would create.
Much to my dismay, I was refused access to retrieve any of my women's clothes from my own flat, while Charles insisted on disposing of my male clothes together with all the other remnants of my former life to a charity shop in the nearby town. And so, under the protective wing of Sarah and the baleful eye of Charles it took just a few days for my new life as Roberta to settle into a regular routine.
Charles wasted little time in installing himself, several suitcases and a large cabin trunk in my former flat, in fact I didn't appreciate that he had that many clothes in view of the way he was normally dressed. On the Wednesday, Miss Roberta Hart, in a smart, black two piece dress and jacket, and accompanied by Sarah Bentall, presented herself at Chappells, Robert's lawyers, and completed the legal documentation and bank mandates to secure control over her brother's affairs.
Tim Chappell flirted outrageously with me - failing miserably to spot the flaws, even when I asked him to draw up a draft partnership agreement with the Bentalls for my approval as he readily accepted my explanation for Robert's absence abroad, and my convenient appearance on the Bentalls' doorstep. By the following week the dirty deed was done, and the partnership agreement was signed and legally binding on both parties, leaving us free to get on with the rest of our lives.
8.A sad day for surprises!
Sarah and the girls wasted little time in giving me some basic lessons in behaving in a more feminine manner, my posture and voice inflexion coming in for criticism, readily acknowledged by me, thanks to a video camera and even Sarah had to give me instructions on the proper way to put on my pantyhose, so that I didn't ladder them so often. On one occasion I had a slight cold, so there I was daintily dabbing and sniffing, sniffing and dabbing with a delicate lace hanky instead of noisily using my nose like a trumpet, thus blowing the delicate material to smithereens!
Naturally the three girls were less perfect than angels, the two girls giving me more trouble than Patricia, who was a real sweetie! Despite my training I was constantly being reprimanded for less than ladylike behaviour, always within hearing distance of perfect strangers as they vied with each other in finding faults in Aunty Roberta. They even staged some dreadful pranks at my expense including putting Sarahs soiled knickers in my bed, stapling the armholes of my dresses and the hems of my skirts together and sprinkling itching powder in my freshly laundered bras. But it was the public name dropping while addressing me as "Aunty Robert" in the presence of their friends which were the most heart stopping moments for me, although no-one ever seemed to notice their deliberate mistake.
A few days later I had a fairly restless night and which I duly reported to Sarah "It started with a most vivid dream, in which I was dolled up as a classy fashion model, tall and slim, fabulous make-up, my long raven hair tied back with a scrunchie. I had on a smart navy blue blazer worn over a plain white blouse, and a voluminous blue and white polka-dot mini-skirt supported by layer upon layer of satin and lace lavender petticoats as I trotted along the pavement in black three inch heels, carrying my latest purchases off home as I crossed the road reach my flat. Unfortunately I was unaware of being pursued by this urchin, who sidled up behind me as I waited on a traffic island for a gap in the cars before I could continue on home. It was the wolf-whistles, the motor horns and raucous shouts of the car drivers who made me realise that the saucy young rascal had lifted up my dress from behind, and was feasting his eyes on the view up my skirts, hence the enthusiastic encouragement of the onlookers, and I felt violated in a most horrible way!" Sarah just sniffed, - "Lucky you - I wish I had half the street honking at me - even if it was in a dream" as she just got on with her work.
My dream had reminded me that there was still the small matter of my car, which was still stuck outside my flat; it was only a nonedescript Ford, but I could hardly leave it there for too long to be commented upon by suspicious neighbours. Sarah persuaded me to part exchange it for a bright yellow Saab cabriolet which Charles had spotted at a car dealers some miles away, and which the girls just loved. As for my driving licence - the name on the document was just 'Robert Hart', so I decided to put the missing 'A' down to a clerical error if I was ever challenged, although I did take out car insurance in my new name - which wasn't cheap without the benefit of a no claims bonus - as the first of many steps to establishing my female persona in the outside world.
Now that I had my own wheels, Sarah and I took turns at ferrying the girls to and from school - or to ballet or tennis lessons and all the other things little girls like to do, although more often than not we undertook this chore together so as to drive on to Walmart for the bulk of the family shopping, or to a nearby town to treat ourselves or the girls to some new glad-rags. But there were some days on which I was left in complete charge, and Sarah would disappear overnight without explanation, occasionally for long weekends, although in her absence it always seemed to be on such occasions that Charles stayed home overnight.
It still riled me that some of my women's clothes were still back at my flat, but Charles resolutely refused to let me pick up the choicest items in my wardrobe. Then one Saturday morning Sarah had been on the phone and came into the garden where I was sitting on the bench in a short-sleeved summer dress watching the children playing badminton. She clapped her hands for attention - "Now children,I am just taking Aunty to collect her things from her flat - she wont be long." There was a joint moan of disapproval at the news - "Can't we come Mummy?" asked Samantha. "There isn't enough room for you all in the car, but in a few minutes time, our daily will be returning, so you can stay here and give her a big welcome!" there were squeals of excitement from the girls,"Will she stay for always this time?" chimed in Patricia - "We will have to wait and see." - Replied Sarah. It was obvious this woman was something special in their lives, even though they never mentioned her to me directly. So with this announcement they dashed away to continue their game leaving us free to drive down to the village. I was pleased as punch as Sarah took me on a leisurely five minute drive to the village, completely out of character with her usual way of driving since she would normally had driven at breakneck speed and done it in two, but perhaps it was because she was driving my car, and we had lowered the soft top! "Isn't that Charles's car?" I commented as we approached a sports car coming up the dual carraigeway towards us, but our view was obscured by an overtaking van, so my question remained unanswered.
"What does Charles use my flat for then Sarah?" - "Now girl, don't play Miss Innocent with me! - You know full well what he uses it for." - "Is that where Janet comes into the picture?" I continued, digging a bit deeper." "Yes, - Charles and Janet have been lovers on and off for ages, and since Janet had an insight into your business affairs, naturally they compared notes as to how both businesses were faring - and since both were on a serious downward spiral, and one, or even both could possibly go to the wall, I thought about approaching you to suggest a merger. But Charles was adamant, no way!" - "So was I come to that." I murmured. "But when Charles found out about your little games, he reported back to me, and that put a different complexion on things! - and you know the rest."
When we arrived at my flat, Sarah produced from her purse a freshly cut key
to let us in. "Hmm. nice perfume" I remarked unwittingly as we went into the
hall. "No time for that!" - she snapped as we made our way to my bedroom where a
discarded yellow satin nightdress lay across the unmade bed and impulsively I
ran my hand across the garment. "Its still warm Sarah, do you think anyone is
still here?" My innocent reply received a steely look by way of a reward
followed by a curt - "Come on now! - Get on with it Roberta! - I haven't got all
day!"
Apart from the bed, the rest of the room was tidy by Charles's standards - but then I assumed one of his lady friends (possibly the super efficient Janet), kept it neat and tidy for him. When I opened the wardrobe I was shocked to find it absolutely crammed full of womens' clothes. "Hmm. his girl friend must have moved in by the look of it!" was Sarah's response as I grabbed an empty case from the top shelf and began to sort through my chest of drawers, separating the third party's unmentionables from my own, and cramming my most precious items of lingerie into the case before sorting through the skirts, dresses and blouses in the wardrobe, many of which didn't belong to me! "Charles certainly likes big girls." - was my wry comment as I read a 'size 16' label on some of the garments, but Sarah wasn't amused!
She kept herself occupied by starting to make the bed and I watched, intrigued, as she carefully folded the satin nightdress, before taking it in both hands and holding it up to her face as she closed her eyes, breathing in the faint aroma being given off by the material. While Sarah was otherwise engaged, I wandered off to retrieve one or two items from their hidey holes, including my collection of SRS books, stopping briefly to watch the brightly coloured garments spinning round in the washing machine out in the utility room, while back in the hall I retreived the mail which had just dropped on the door-mat and dived into the toilet for a sneak preview.
I trawled through the addressee's names, but I only found one letter for myself, all the others were addressed to 'Mrs Charlotte Bentall' or just plain 'Charlotte Bentall'. So the total absence of mens trousers now began to make some sense assuming the perfume in the hall was Charlies, the satin nighty on the bed was Charlies, the 'smalls' in the washing machine and size 16 dresses hanging upstairs in the wardrobe were also Charlies! 'Perhaps I'm not the only one playing silly dressing-up games' - I mused as I stuffed the correspondence in my handbag before flushing the loo and going off to find Sarah. "You can take the car darling, since I will be staying in town for a while." Sarah helped me out to the car with my case as I dumped all my dresses across the back seat, before taking my leave and driving off post haste towards home, stopping in a layby to examine the contents of the letters in more detail. Two of the letters confirmed my suspicions - the first outlined revised dosages of estrogen tablets for males being considered for SRS and quantified the possible long term effects, while the second informed 'Charlotte' of the positive results of her last visit to the gender re-assignment clinic which gave a target date of nine months to her SRS. 'So Charlie is changing his sex! I wonder if Sarah knows!' Now I knew the reason for all that puppy fat - he was growing breasts! - and I began to wonder what my role was in the scheme of things and I trembled with fright and delight as I recalled Sarah's remarks in her car after our trip to my office less than a month ago!
I started the car and continued the short journey, driving slowly past the house just to confirm that the TR2 was in the garage, and since the children were in safe hands I decided to return to the village to confront Sarah with my discovery. There was no reply to my knock at the door so I decided to go inside and await her return. I took my spare key out of my purse which I had thoughtfully retrieved from it's hiding place in my flat, and let myself in, dropping the incriminating correspondence on the hall table as I walked through to the kitchen to make a coffee. I was about to fill the kettle when I thought I heard a groan from the bedroom so I took off my heels, tiptoed quietly down the hall, and peeped through the half open door to my room.
The two
half dressed female bodies laid across the bed passionately heaving and groaning
as they steamed away in the 69 position as they lovingly licked and caressed
came as quite a culture shock! I immediately recognised Sarah's mop of hair, but
the identity of the other girl was obscured by Sarah's thrusting thighs, so I
crept slowly into the room for a closer look. Unfortunately for me, one of the
large decorative pockets of my summer dress became entangled in the protruding
door handle, and with a loud 'clunk' the edge of the door rebounded and struck
me on the side of the head, and although it didn't quite lay me out I certainly
saw stars as I staggered sideways into the room.
The startled face of the panting girl which emerged from between Sarah's crotch belonged to the last person I expected to find in such a compromising position with my enamorata. Any thoughts of bedding Sarah were gone in a flash as I groaned with pain and dismay in equal measure while the bulge now forming between my legs threatened to tear my knickers and thong asunder as I turned and staggered out of the room and into the lounge and slumped in my carver chair to recover my composure. But despite gripping the arms of the chair to try to retain control, my primitive bodily functions reacted in the only way they know how, as I shuddered violently in agony and ecstasy and finally succumbed as nature had her dastardly way and finished the task in hand, as waves of pleasure swept over my body leaving me totally exhausted and drained, gasping for air and sweating profusely.
As my head slowly cleared I could hear the two lovers excitedly whispering together in the bedroom - not only had I found my divine Sarah with her lesbian lover, but worst of all with the dreaded Janet of all people! I realised my downfall was now complete, and in my demoralised state with tears streaming from my eyes, a warm, damp patch in my knickers and a dreadful headache, I grabbed my shoes and rushed out of the flat and set off once again for the Bentalls house checking the graze on my forehead in my rear view mirror as I drove. But once again I pulled the car off the road into the layby, although on this occasion it was at the insistence of the police as I sat trembling with fear and vexation at the fix I was in and waited for the policeman to adjust his cap and make his steadfast way from his vehicle to my own.
"Excuse me
Miss, but do you normally check your make-up while driving your car?" He then
looked at my midriff, although my eyes were now focussed further down my legs at
the enormous ladder in my brand new tights! - "And shouldn't you be wearing a
seat-belt?" Sure enough, in my scramble to put some distance between me and the
potential sex orgy underway in my flat I had forgotten to 'belt up'.
"I'm terribly sorry officer - I was upset and I just forgot" - was my snivelling reply as I sought some pity in those grey eyes of his. "Well, I would have let you off Miss - but you were also speeding! So would you please step out of the car so that I may examine your driving licence." He opened the car door as I staggered awkwardly to my feet in my high heels, my windswept hair an absolute mess thanks to the soft top of the Saab being down, my lovely yellow dress all screwed up and stained with teardrops,lipstick and mascara where I had used my skirt as a makeshift handkerchief, a big tear in one of the pockets, a ladder in my tights and a prominent lump on my forehead.
"Have you been drinking Miss?" He asked politely as I fumbled in my handbag for my driving licence. "Robert Hart?" - he read out loud as he looked me up and down awaiting my reply. I was really panicking by now - "I must have picked up my brother's by mistake." I blurted without really thinking and holding my hand to my thumping head as the policeman's pencil sped down the page of his notebook.
He then asked me my home address, and if my brother lived with me, so I gave him the Bentalls', forgetting about my recent move, and was again reprimanded for failing to inform the licencing authorities. "I would like you to take a breath test," he continued remorselessly as I lean't against the car, tears pouring down my face. "Please calm down Miss - it is quite a safe test!" He stood by waiting patiently while I blew my nose in a most unladylike manner and recovered some semblence of composure.
Ten minutes later my ordeal was over as he let me off with a caution, but before he returned to his police car he gave me a sympathetic smile - "That must have been some bust-up you had with your boy friend." As he walked off once again I burst into floods of tears, knowing that I must have exhausted my portion of nasty surprises for one day!
9.Charles comes clean!
Back at base all seemed to be quiet as I drove up the drive. Charlies car was still in the garage and I could hear the girl's voices out in the back garden, so having taken the opportunity to store all my clothes away I stripped off my tattered clothes, had a bath, washed and dried my hair and treated the graze on my head with some salve, and feeling much better after my recent ordeal, I bounced off down the stairs in my favourite green voile dress , revelling in noticing in the hall mirror that my lacy half- slip and brassiere were clearly visible to all through the flimsy material of the dress.
But the girls dashing down the hall and the clatter of china in the kitchen soon disturbed my reverie. "Aunty Roberta, come and meet Mummy" - they squealed with delight as they took me by the hands to lead me towards the kitchen with Abigail leading the way. "But I have just left your Mummy down in the village" I responded as they tried to drag me along - "But this is our other Mummy and she says she will never go away again - brownies honour!"
The girls
excitement was infectious as I led the rush into the kitchen to meet the daily.
She had her back to me, looking in the fridge, so I coughed discreetly - "Hello!
- I am Roberta Hart, the children's nannny" - "Hi Roberta love! I will make you a
coffee after I finish putting away the shopping!" My suspicions were confirmed
as she turned round to smile a friendly greeting, and embraced the three girls
as they rushed up to her, and forwarned though I had been by the tell-tale mail
back at my flat, it was still quite a shock to find Charles dressed for his
mundane domestic role. Despite the somewhat shrill female voice, Charles, or
rather Charlotte looked completely at ease with herself, unphased by my presence
as she crouched down cuddling her children, wearing a large white frilly apron
over her knee length, red flowered cotton dress, a large matching red ribbon
tied in her hair and red court high heels on her prominent feet, and apparently
playing the part of the dutiful housewife to perfection!
My renewed confidence evaporated as the awful truth of my self-imposed predicament began to dawn - I had given up my flat, my business, and my exclusive addresses and lifestyle on the idle threat of a pair who had far more skeletons to rattle in their cupboards than I ever had! "You don't look very well Dear, would you go in the garden girls while I take care of Aunty." and as the they left the room she beckoned me over to sit with her at the breakfast bar.
"Umm. sniff, - I thought I had received my fair share of nasty surprises for one day" As the waterworks started again Charlotte looked most concerned. - "How do you mean pet?" - "Sarah told me you and Janet were having an affair - but I have just come back from my flat, and I know it's not true any more, I found the two girls, making sex across my bed in a most compromising position." Charlottes eyes twinkled merrily as she wiped her damp hands down her frilly apron before she took a hanky and came over to wipe the tears from my eyes and hug me and in a soothing voice, continued - "There now darling, no more tears now you have found us out and know the awful truth! I did try to warn you Sarah is the kinkiest one in this family,- not me, but despite everything she is still my precious wife and I still love her for putting up with my particular foibles, which despite my awsome reputation did not include bedding birds on a regular basis!"
I stepped back and pointed to her prominent mounds. "But I also found two incriminating letters which I have left back at the flat, and according to one it would appear those have been home grown with hormones, while the other states your S.R.S. is scheduled for nine months time!" Charles let out a sigh of relief "Oh, thank you for telling me Darling, I have been waiting for ages for my S.R.S. news to come through, so now I can abandon any false pretences in my role as Charles the outrageous womaniser, and live my life to the full as Charlotte Bentall, housewife, while you can continue to enjoy and develope your role in the way that best suits you, and let Sarah and Janet take care of our businesses without us two having to worry, since our affairs will be in safe hands."
"But I do
worry with two airheads running the show!" Following my unfortunate comment
Charlotte placed both her hands on her hips as she let me have it with both
barrels! "Now listen here you! - Thanks to your swanning off to live your empty
tarts life in those empty swanky houses, your so-called 'business' was virtually
bankrupted, and if it wasn't for the selfless dedication of Janet, you would
have been kicked out on your arse ages ago!"
"As for your suggestion that my wife is an airhead, Sarah is and has always been the brains in this family, and she charmed you into signing away your future without so much as a by-your-leave! - and from where I am standing, she also made a pretty good job of your makeover, from tart to apple turnover in less than a month! - You owe those two girls more than just your butt!" She paused for a moment to take her apron off.
"She and Janet have been lovers for ages, and since Janet virtually ran your business while you were away on more important matters, she and Sarah kept a watching brief on how the two agencies were faring - and with the downturn in the industry, and both likely to fail. As far as the girls were concerned, some sort of merger was imperative, even if you and I may not have agreed to such a move, but discovering your penchant for transvestism when Sarah and I saw you from the fire escape that first time solved all our problems." - Her reply caught me cold, - "But you told me you were walking back from a date that evening?" She tut-tutted - "You are too trusting my dear, - Janet, Sarah and I often used to go out for a hen night in our glad rags with me done up as a bird, so seeing lights on upstairs in the Oaks we left Janet's 'Rolls' by the gate and came up the drive to investigate. All three of us thoroughly enjoyed the free floor show despite our tactical retreat with a serious case of the giggles when you answered the phone which ended with me taking quite a tumble when one of my heels caught in a crack in the steps on the way down the fire escape, so it wasn't all lies!
As you can now see, you and I both share the same interests, but until six
months ago I have used my false reputation as a ladies man to play the lady by
indulging my cross-dressing fantasies in hotel rooms - not in my clients
properties the way you have done in the past. 
But then Sarah and I decided to
let our three daughters in on my big secret and introduce them to their other
Mummy prior to the two of us making the ultimate role change - from dedicated
housewife to src="estate// agent, and vice versa. But it is only lucky old me that is
opting for the ultimate sacrifice and having the operation, - Sarah has no
intention of going that far, - not that I mind in the least being the doormat. I make a bloody good housewife and mother while Sarah is bored to death being
stuck at home, and is now looking forward to a successful business career
outside in the so-called real world!" At that moment the twins came scurrying
into the kitchen looking for Mummy number 2, and taking the two girls by the
hands Charlotte gave me a bewitching smile- "Come on Roberta love, a little
exercise should counteract the aftershock to your system, so lets go and play
with the skipping rope on the patio with the girls!" I meekly followed on
behind, but was soon enthusiatically joining in the fun, recreating my
girlhood dreams which I had always desired, but never had.
10.The ultimate sacrifice!
It is seven
years hence, since that fateful day when that silly woman gallivanted round one
of my client's bedrooms creating the havoc which eventually led to me lying here
on this theatre trolley. Standing alongside are my two best girl-friends in the
world, Sarah and Charlotte, while I hold hands with my boy-friend, John,
formerly Janet, concerned looks on their faces, waiting anxiously for me to be
pushed into surgery for the final sacrifice!
"Here I go! over the top girls!" I utter hoarsely as willing hands propel me the final few feet to my ultimate destiny "Our girls send all their love!" cries the squeaky, high-pitched voice of Charlotte, as what still remains of Robert disappears through the double doors, to re-appear in a few hours time as the gorgeous, re-constructed Roberta, to take her place in the world, alongside Charlotte and John and the implacable matron - Sarah! As the injections take effect, I recall the first time I held Charles's podgy hand in mine, knowing now that the estrogen injections circulating round his body was the real cause of him being rather on the plump side; I always stuck with patches myself!
But after
Charlotte had taken the ultimate step, and appeared permanently on the scene,
three years ago, she soon had that portly frame back into a sylph-like shape,
thanks to some serious dieting, so that she now boasts a reasonable 38 - 26 -
37, and no more pretences of 'making-it' with every girl in the district - now
that she is one of the girls herself! Her relationship with Sarah improved
dramatically when Janet took the ultimate step to please her lesbian lover, and
returned from her trip to Holland as 'John', but as far as Sarah was concerned
dikes with dicks didn't demand her attention, since she was quite happy to play
around with girls, and since her husband was a girl now - she could hardly ask
for a better arrangement!
Somehow or
other Janet/John and I drifted closer and closer together, and we even took on
Madame Olga's lingerie shop as an ongoing business, which I run with a
reasonable amount of success, having qualified as a Berlie corsetiere, catering
for the likes of Miss Jones and Gwen, while John runs the src="estate// agency
businesses with Sarah, Charlotte quite content to play the dutiful housewife.
John is also my live in lover sharing my flat, which is currently on the market
while we look for a larger property. It was Charlotte who suggested that "My
boyfriend should make an honest woman of me, and so we were soon celebrating our
engagement and planning for our Wedding Day.
Three
months later, after my scars had healed up, with three happy young bridesmaids
in attendance, I celebrated my marriage with Janet/John as the bridegroom, and
despite howls of protests from relatives and friends there were three blushing
brides, as we had persuaded Sarah and Charlotte to renew their wedding vows as
part of the service. So with Charlotte appropriately dressed in the wedding gown
that his wife had worn 12 years earlier, Sarah, by way of compensation, was
wearing a sumptuous satin and lace creation with a ten foot train, as she
outshone us all - and for good reason!
It was during the reception in the Bentall's garden that Patricia wandered over to where Charlotte and I were standing - "Aunty Roberta? - do you think I will wear a pretty wedding dress just like yours one day?" I looked sympathetically at the poor boy as his voice wobbled mid-sentence as the testosterone began to cut in. I sighed a long sigh before replying. "I hope so my darling - but you must decide that for yourself." His mother then replied "Since it is all in the genes, I think it's time Patricia visited our clinic don't you, Roberta my dear?"
The pretty face was wreathed in smiles as he looked up at us - a delightful creature standing there clutching his flowered posy in his dainty lace encased hands, a pretty pink confection from top to toe, exactly matching his twin sister in looks, and wishing and wanting to be more and more like her every day and in every way - which from Mother Nature's point of view is not possible at this moment in time! - But who can tell, miracles can and do happen!
END