Tag: Clothes Maketh The Man

I don’t know how long I slept. When I finally drifted back from that blissful sleep Annabel was beside me in the bed fast asleep, her hair tumbled over her gently rounded shoulders.

I watched her for a few minutes as the early light of dawn filtered in through the half drawn curtains. How perfect that shoulder was, the warm brown of her skin, the lift of her breast, half uncovered by the sheet. It seemed inconceivable that this could have been the shoulder once of a boy, or a man. No, I was looking at a woman, regardless of what incongruity may be below that perfect flowing waist and flat tummy. How meaningless the label of this or that was, when what I was witnessing was beauty. 

Does beauty demand a label, I asked myself. Male, female, young or old? No, what was before me was beauty – regardless of categorization or analysis.

READ ON – https://fionadobson.com/cmtm/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-75/

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– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

The helicopter raced over the flat landscape in a roar of sound and dust. As we moved fast and low I glanced at my traveling companion.

He was indeed handsome but as I studied him a little more closely I began to realize that those rugged good looks could equally be described as hardened. There was doubtless a curl to his lip that could be described as ‘callous’, beneath that coal black mustache. I took a moment to adjust and reframe him as kidnapper rather than rescuer. To have thought him a saviour, only to find he was just my next captor was to be lifted and given hope, and then to have it cruelly taken away.

Regardless I was no longer being fed like a dog nor chained to a wall in the hot Texas sun. My companion handed me a bottle of water from his pack. Things were looking up.

“Where are we going, I asked.

“Somewhere nice,” he replied.

“That’s all I get?” I said.

As I crawled on my hands and knees along the corridor the chain rattled from my neck.  I fell slightly behind Mark and he jerked it hard hurting my neck and then shouted, ‘Keep up, bitch.”

I wondered what the point of this ridiculous exercise was, but it wasn’t until I realised I was being taken into the dining room that I learned what was happening.  It was Marks practice to have an early dinner, and then a supper later in the evening.  I was led into the dining room, the table set and several of his men seated waiting for him, and he then sat at the head of the table.

I wasn’t sure what to do as he sat, so I waited, on all fours feeling stupid.

He told me, “Sit!”

I quickly realised I was to take my place beside his chair, like a dog. He raised his hand, and I swiftly took my place sitting beside his chair at the head of the table.

What followed was the most humiliating experience I had yet experienced.

Continue reading Part 72 HERE – https://fionadobson.com/cmtm/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-72/

Is this where it ends, I asked myself.

I felt the warm rush of blood down my face, and as I tried to gather my wits the world seemed to spin and I knew I was lying on my side, the bike pinning me down. I was strangely unaware of pain, but I couldn’t orientate myself. I was aware of blood dripping from my face, and tried to reach up to stem the flow but my arm wouldn’t move. And then quite suddenly things faded and I stopped hearing the thump of the engine and I mercifully lost consciousness.

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– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

One of the men detached himself from the group and said, “Let me show you lovely ladies to your rooms.”

“Why all this cloak and dagger stuff,” I asked Annabel quietly as we were led to our accommodation.

“These are very secretive people,” she replied.

Annabell and I followed as our guide chaperoned us through the house, and down a tiled corridor, the atmosphere within feeling cool and comfortable after the heat outside. We followed, and when he opened a door and motioned me to enter a beautifully decorated bedroom I did so.

“You’ll find a few things in the closet here. A dress or two, a swim suit and a selection of shoes and things. Feel free to make use of anything you may find.” He smiled with courteous respect and as I sat on the bed the door closed as he left. 

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– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

The movement of the train threw us together again and our bodies seemed alive with energy.

“But how?” I said, astonished that 30 had a key to the very thing that stood between us.

“Later,” she said reaching down and unlocking the device between her legs. It’s components clattered to the floor.

“I only have the key for mine,” she said.

I felt a moment of disappointment but not before 30’s hand came up to my chest, pushed me down on the seat behind me and pressed against me.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re going to love it anyway!”

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– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

On the way to dropping 30 and I at the rail station, my sister had reassured me that things at the company were ticking along just fine without me. The thought made me feel a little redundant. Yet, it wasn’t a point of any concern to me, as I had other things to think about. Things like embracing an entirely new gender and lifestyle, and a new personality.

“Besides,” Jennifer had said, “you don’t think Devina would leave you in the lurch, do you?”

The mention of that name made me shiver. I wondered, did she miss me?

Read Part 66 HERE.

– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

Now, I know what you’re going to say.  As I felt these two clods frog-marching me across the meadow, my gingham blouse exposing just a little more than it should as they roughly held my arms, “Andy’s in trouble again!”

I can almost hear your voice in my head. But, really, I don’t go looking for this. I’m just a crossdresser wanting to wear some nice clothes and of course I like to get some dick now and then. Is that really too much to ask? And here I am, snatched from my bed in the dead of night by two goons with very poor dentistry.

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In a slumber I slowly woke.  I could feel the rise and the fall of the soft breathing of a form beside me and I quickly remembered 30.

My face was pressed against her shoulder, warm but a little hard.  I could vaguely smell the scent of her.  I remained still savouring the delicate aromas.  I think she used a lavender soap, but behind it I could smell her armpit.

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I stood outside the library, holding the silver serving tray, the heels making my feet ache. The maid’s uniform exposed my legs to all who came and went in the lobby, though the passing foot traffic really didn’t seem to notice.

I wondered how such a sight would go down among those friends of mine who I’d not seen now in months. What would people think had happened to me. Had I just faded away as so many people in America seem to have done so over these recent years. Did I simply cease to exist one day? 

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I hurried over to the stables, my mind racing. What could Jennifer possibly have to do with these people?

When I’d seen my sister’s name on Mrs. Gravely’s blotter I had been shocked and confused, but there’d been that voice in my head, that told me that perhaps I was mistaken. After all, how could this situation, half a continent from San Francisco have anything to do with my sister?

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Part 59.  Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –

I’ve never been afraid of hard physical labor. I like to work out in the gym, and of course I have always done yoga. Working up a bit of sweat and feeling it run between my breasts as I work on an elliptical is not something I am unfamiliar with.

Working in the stables was no hardship. 30 and I made a good team, and she had a little radio we could listen to as we worked.  The morning flew by. And by the time we broke for lunch I felt quite a glow from the exertion.

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Andrea slips deeper into the web of intrigue. You can find her latest adventures here – https://fionadobson.com/cmtm/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-58/

I looked about the hall, and from this elevated position I could see that everyone in the room was watching the surreal form of Mr. Butterworth complete with goat headpiece, held firmly by eager hands beneath me. Beside the massage table among the masked faces of the audience was his wife. Nothing seemed to conceal her glee at seeing her husband subjugated in this way.

Enjoy part 56 of Clothes Maketh The Man HERE.

Poor Veronica.  Mrs. Gravely took the phone from me and replaced it in the draw and locked it. 

“I don’t think I need to tell you that any deviation from the program will lead to Veronica being re-introduced to the lash.  Neither of us want that, do we?”

No,” I said, still shocked at the sight of Veronica’s lash marks.

“You will address me as ‘Ma’am’, Andrea,” she said and looked at me, waiting.

Go to part 53.

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I felt the heat of the head of Dwayne’s dick pressing against the slippery wetness of my buttocks. Devina had covered me in so much lube, it would be impossible to squirm away. With her sitting on my neck, while I could have put up a fight, I found myself shocked into total submission.

“Wait,” I gasped, and once more I felt the stinging slap of Devina’s hard palm on my back. God she was strong!

For a moment I caught sight of myself reflected in the plate glass windows of my balcony. There I was, kneeling, Devina astride my shoulders, and Dwayne. My god, he was a big man.

I could see the black skirt hitched up, the nylons, and my pathetic body, knees wide apart, wiggling and trying to resist. Dwayne sniggered and I suddenly felt his strong hands on my hips.

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I could hear voices in my living room.  There was a little light laughter and I could tell that Devina and her guest were making themselves comfortable.

I found myself flushed and felt my heart racing.  I ran the tap and put my wrists under it, the cool water calming me.  As I looked in the mirror I could barely recognise the face that looked back. Devina had done a masterful job on my makeup.

The suspender belt around my waist felt firm, the nylons wonderful and the material of the short skirt felt good against my legs. I wore some black panties, full, and enclosing my carefully hidden cock.

Again, the laughter, and then Devina calling, “Andrea, come along.  Don’t be shy dear…”

I felt my heart pounding. The collar was tight on my neck, but I didn’t want to loosen it. In a strange way it felt reassuring.

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