Teena: A House of Ill Repute

by Jennifer Jane Pope

  Damn Anne-Marie, I thought fiercely. She knew me better than I knew myself and this seemingly careless desertion of me had been well thought out. I was willing to bet she was not exactly hurrying herself back in the house, and that she was banking on returning eventually to find me already a quivering wreck.

  The pressures on my stomach and breasts seemed to increase as I stood contemplating my plight, and my entire body appeared to be undergoing a heightening in sensitivity. The dildo was growing inside me, too. No, I knew that was only my imagination, but knowing it didn't make the sensation go away. I could hear my heart beating loudly inside my chest; the steady pounding echoing inside my rubber covered skull and the sound of my rapid, shallow breathing grew louder with every minute that passed.

  I swayed suddenly and had to take a hasty step in order to regain my balance. The inevitable happened and the shockwave surged through me again, this time stronger and more prolonged. I pressed my legs together, which was a big mistake. Despite the gag, my squeal echoed around the garage and I knew my first orgasm was only moments away.

  It was impossible, terrible, an awful indictment of what I was becoming, and I was helpless to do anything about it. I wanted to cry, to scream, to beat myself for my weakness, but all I could do was stand there swaying like a dumb rubber doll, and surrender in abandoned solitude to my basest instincts and cravings.

  My first visit to Arundel had been with my parents as a child of maybe nine or ten, and my second was as part of a school trip five or six years after that, when I would have been fourteen or fifteen. My third visit was three to four years later again, or one hundred and thirty years earlier, depending upon the way you want to look at it.

  At first I did not recognise the sleepy little West Sussex town, for although the streets have changed relatively little in more than a century, the castle back in eighteen thirty-nine looked smaller, less impressive and not at all like the castle that stands there today. And then I remembered what we had been told during our school visit, that the Norfolk family effected a huge renovation on the edifice later in the eighteenth century, as did many of their landowning Victorian contemporaries, who altered, or even built from scratch, huge monuments to their wealth, power and egos.

  As the coach swayed slowly down the hill towards the town centre, I let the door blind fall back into place and looked across to the opposite seat at the sleeping form of Indira. Ye gods, but that girl seemed to spend all her time sleeping and could drop off, it seemed, in the most awkward positions. I wondered if Andy had come back again this time, or whether I would once again be confronted by the voluptuous body's rightful tenant. During my earlier brief visit, the girl had woken up just long enough for me to understand she was indeed Indira and not my twentieth century lover. It had been a bitter disappointment, for with Andy around I felt much less vulnerable, or perhaps just a lot less on my own. Either way, I hoped it would be Andy inside her this time around.

  I felt the coach slowing further, and then it finally came to a stop. I waited, feeling the slight lurch as Erik - at least I assumed it was Erik - jumped down from the driver's seat up front, and listened as his heavy boots scrunched on the ground. A moment later he opened the door and stood looking up at me.

  'We are arrived,' he announced simply. 'There an hour or so before darkness still is, but an inn we should find without delaying further.' It was good advice, for the air outside was already icy and I knew the temperature would drop even more once night fell.

  'Have you seen anywhere we might stay?' I asked, drawing my cape closer about my shoulders. Instinctively I reached up, and smiled as my fingers touched the soft fabric of a bonnet. Probably not quite in fashion by eighteen thirty-nine, I mused, but at least it would cover my hairlessness. Angelina must have continued with my plan in that regard, and I smiled again as I found myself wondering idly if she had any idea how she had come to be bald, or whether it had come as a shock to her when she returned to her body during the escape bid. Whatever the truth, she appeared to have been coping well in my absence, and I found myself forming a newfound respect for the little lady, who was obviously a lot tougher on the inside than she appeared on the outside.

  'Three inns there are where staying the night I think we may be,' Erik said. 'Others there may also be, further along road, but the sign over there is saying that rooms there are.' He gestured across to the far side of the street, and I saw the hand painted notice propped against the wall of an inn, beneath a hanging sign that proclaimed the establishment was called the Swan.

  'You had better go over and ask,' I instructed, and picked up the cloth bag that was on the seat at my side. 'I presume we have some money left?'

  Erik looked at me oddly.

  I quickly tried to make a joke of it. 'Just like a woman to get confused with cash,' I said, and felt hopefully inside the bag. To my relief, my fingers closed over a soft leather satchel, the weight and feel of which told me it contained several coins. 'You go ahead and see if they have two rooms,' I continued. 'They may find it a bit funny if a woman marches in on them unannounced.' As I've mentioned before, they had some odd notions back in eighteen thirty-nine. A woman's place was generally regarded as being in the home and, if she travelled from it, there was expected to be a man around, not merely to act as her protector, but to make all the arrangements and conduct any business, including the booking of rooms and meals.

  As Erik trudged stiffly across the road - it must have been murder even on his muscles, for the weather seemed to have taken a sudden change for the worse and sitting up top the carriage in this cold autumn wind for hours at a time would have been no picnic - I drew out the money bag, pulled at the drawstring and emptied the contents into my lap. My eyebrows rose and I couldn't resist a grin of satisfaction as I saw the silver and gold glinting among the coppers. I picked out a few coins at random and held them up for a closer examination. They were unfamiliar to me, of course, but I soon identified guineas, shillings and florins - that's two shillings in old money - and a quick tot up revealed the coins amounted to nearly twenty pounds, a small fortune in those days.

  A further examination of the larger bag showed our wealth did not end there, either. My hand emerged first with a wad of crumpled banknotes, which I flicked through eagerly, my mood improving as I totted up the pounds to more than two hundred. Angelina must have been to a few pawn shops or jewellers along the way, I thought, but she had far from exhausted the haul of valuables from the house, for next I found yet another smaller bag, inside which, wrapped in various pieces of cloth and paper, I discovered numerous pieces of jewellery ranging from rings to a heavy choker set with what were clearly very nice diamonds.

  'Bloody hell,' I whispered aloud. 'We're rich!' And by the standards of the time, rich we were. Nearly two hundred and fifty pounds in cash and probably still several hundred pounds in reserve in the shape of these flashy baubles. Carefully, I rewrapped the pieces and replaced them in their bag, also tucking the notes away together with most of the coins, though I took a guinea piece and two shilling pieces and slipped them inside my bodice, wrapped in a piece of paper I had torn from one of the necklace wrappings for just that purpose. I didn't want to be flashing large amounts about in front of people. Arundel would have been a pretty civilised place compared to many, but you still had no idea whom you might meet.

  I closed the bag, leaned forward and poked Indira in the ribs. 'Wake up, lazy bones, we've arrived!'

  She gave an exclamation of protest, jerked convulsively and opened one eye. I stared at her, waiting for her to speak. 'Oh fuck!' she exclaimed. 'We're back here again, are we?'

  I sat back again and started laughing. This time, there was no doubting the current inhabitant of the voluptuous body opposite me. 'Yes,' I said happily, 'we're back here, and here this time is Arundel, in case you're interested.'

  The inn was most pleasant and welcoming inside. Two log fires burned at either end of the roughly L-shaped bar and dining area, and accommodation and meals for the
three of us for one night did surprisingly little damage to our funds.

  We ate heartily of a mutton stew with potatoes and fresh bread, accompanying this warming feast with two bottles of a rich red wine that started to go to my head well before we were halfway down the second bottle. We said little, keeping to ourselves at a corner table well away from the few other patrons in the establishment, not wanting to draw any unwarranted attention. Then, having purchased a third bottle of wine to take upstairs with us, we made our weary way up the stairs to our respective rooms.

  'Sleeping shall I be over there,' Erik said, pointing to the room opposite the one I was to share with my companion. 'The door leaving open I shall be, but bolting yours securely should you be.'

  'Oh, we shall,' I assured him.

  He nodded and patted his jacket on one side, where the slight bulge betrayed the presence of a pistol, of which I had caught a fleeting glimpse earlier. I wondered just where and when he had obtained it, for my original weapon was still safe inside my bag. Obviously, he had managed to convince Angelina of his switch of loyalties and I hoped her, and now my, judgement was well founded.

  'Early we should depart on the morrow,' he added. 'I shall the horses and coach have ready for eight. The fellow at the stable I have instructed on this.'

  'Then perhaps you would knock on our door at seven,' I suggested. 'I can't guarantee to wake up, not without an alarm clock. No, don't bother to ask,' I added, seeing the quizzical look on his face, 'just give us a knock and make sure we're awake, there's a love.'

  Inside the room, I stopped and looked around. There was a small hearth against the wall furthest from the window in which a small fire crackled, and I saw a box to one side in which there was coal and a couple of sizeable logs. At least we would stay warm overnight and the bed looked welcoming, a heavily framed construction with a half tester, a canopy over one end and a high, elegantly carved footboard made of what I was fairly certain was honest to goodness English oak.

  I was quite ready to simply flop down and surrender to sleep, but Indira/Andy seemed to have other ideas. She quickly began stripping off her clothing, until she was left standing in front of the dressing table mirror clad only in a thin shift, over which she had kept on her tightly laced corset. As I sat on the side of the bed, she began slowly fondling both her breasts, which bulged freely over the top of the corset boning, straining fiercely against the thin cotton that only covered their lower reaches.

  'Amazing!' she breathed, her eyes wide. 'I always wondered what it would feel like to have real boobs.'

  'And now you know,' I said dryly. 'Does it beat the padded ones you usually wear?'

  She nodded gravely. 'I'll say, though it feels funny having nothing down there.' She dipped her head, nodding towards her groin area.

  'Well,' I said, 'you've had this fetish about being a woman for so long, you might as well enjoy the experience while it lasts, though it may turn out to be not all you've been expecting. For a start, this Indira girl wasn't exactly under endowed, and those things are going to make your shoulders ache if you don't keep them well supported. Just hope you don't get to come back in that body again in another twenty years. Unless I'm mistaken, those boobs are going to sag something rotten as Indira gets older, poor bitch.'

  The brown fingers were circling the nipples now and the twin peaks had reacted dramatically, for I could see them clearly outlined as two jutting points under the shift. Andy's brown eyes had suddenly taken on a sort of glazed appearance.

  I shook my head and managed not to smile. 'Come here,' I said quietly, crooking my forefinger.

  She turned, and her pink tongue slid across her lower lip.

  'C'mon,' I urged. 'Or do you just want to play with those boobies all by yourself?'

  She didn't need any second bidding now the penny had dropped, but she still approached me hesitantly, surprisingly shy considering some of the things we had indulged in back in our own time.

  'Just relax,' I whispered as she stopped in front of me. Still sitting, I reached up and tugged at the thin ribbon holding up the shift. It slipped undone easily and I eased the garment back and down over her shoulders, letting it hang about her upper arms, but revealing now the full glory of those perfect brown melons. I blinked at the size of the nipples as they were exposed, for I had never seen any so large and long. Certainly they made anything I had, either in this body or in my own, look insignificant and puny.

  'Wow!' I said. 'What a pair of absolute beauties!' They rose together as Indira drew in what, in her corset, passed for a deep breath. 'Oh yes!' I exclaimed, and reached out with both hands to gently squeeze those two nipples between forefingers and thumbs.

  The effect on Indira was electric. She let out a tiny little squeal that could barely have been within the human audible range, and her back arched forwards.

  'Oh lordy,' I muttered, gently rolling the stiffening flesh. 'This is going to be quite something...' I cupped my hands more, though still without releasing my two little prisoners, so I was now half supporting the heavy globes and could knead them as I played with the nipples. Indira groaned and staggered slightly, and I had to pause for a few seconds while she regained both balance and some semblance of composure.

  She stared down at me and a languid smile spread across her beautiful face. 'My mistress,' she sighed, and I saw her hands move around to the front of her shift, where her fingers immediately began gathering up the loose folds towards her waist, exposing first her stocking-clad legs, and then her coffee-cream thighs, and finally the closely trimmed little triangle beneath which I could see a dark pink nubbin already starting to force its way out from between glistening lips.

  I released one of her nipples and used my freed hand to guide all the material into her left hand, all the time taking the greatest care not to touch her exposed flesh. I had other ideas where that was concerned, at least for the moment, and once I had organised her own right hand free of the encumbrance of holding up her shift, I guided that towards the inviting target.

  She made a small noise in the back of her throat and looked down at me uncertainly.

  I smiled encouragement. 'It's okay,' I assured her, 'you just need to find out a few of these things for yourself. It's not only lads who like to masturbate, you know. We girls do it just as much, some of us even more,' I added, for I had gone through a year or so in my middle teens when I had been able quite happily to lose myself in my own fantasies and without either the fumbled musings of some inexperienced lad or the danger of falling pregnant and shocking my father back into sobriety.

  She touched herself, gingerly at first, and I shaped her hand so her middle finger bent in separately and pressed firmly against the swollen lips. A little more pressure from me, and the finger disappeared inside without meeting any resistance. A moment or two later, following just the briefest digital hint from me, Indira was away, frigging herself enthusiastically while I once again turned my full attention to higher matters, two higher matters, as it happened.

  Her first orgasm as a woman - Andrea's that is, for I doubted whether the original inhabitant of this lovely body was a stranger in that department - came quickly, and with a shattering effect that took me as much by surprise as it evidently did her. She let out a loud shriek, her eyes bulged as if she were being strangled and she lurched forwards, knocking me sideways before rolling off me onto her back atop the bed, the invading finger still going nineteen to the dozen and her stocking-clad feet kicking at the air.

  Almost immediately there was an urgent knocking on the door, followed by the sound of Erik's voice. I had forgotten all about our protector, who must have thought Indira's scream of passion was something else. I rolled off the bed and staggered across the room, leaning against the door. Behind me Indira was beginning to subside, but I noticed that her self-ministrations continued, if now at a slightly less frenetic pace.

  'It's all right, Erik,' I called out. 'I just stubbed my toe on the end of the bed. Sorry if I alarmed you.'

&n
bsp; He grunted something in his native tongue, and then in English asked if I was sure I was all right.

  I assured him I was and that he could safely go back to bed, and then listened as I heard his footsteps retreating across the landing.

  'Well, miss,' I said, turning back to Indira, who now lay motionless, her right hand trapped out of sight between her thighs, 'I reckon we'll have to consider gagging you before we try that again, otherwise you'll have the entire town awake.'

  The shift happened, as ever, without warning. One moment I was lying alongside Indira, both of us now naked and gently cuddling and exploring each other's bodies, and the next I was back in the garage again, only this time I was no longer alone, for Anne-Marie was standing in front of me and beside her was Andy, or at least I assumed it was Andy, for not only had our devious mistress effected the usual transformation into Andrea upon him, this time she had gone even further.

  Like me, my transvestite lover was dressed from head-to-toe in rubber, starting from the bottom with thigh-high boots from which the sleekly polished legs of the cat suit emerged. Above this, and over the cat suit, a rubber corset, mostly black, but with piping and frilled dark-red latex edges at the top and bottom, constricted his waist and supported a pair of heavy artificial breasts that sat in moulded cups inside the suit.

  Again, like me, Andrea had been hooded, but this was a hood with a difference, and for a moment I thought the face part had been left exposed, until I realised the flesh-coloured portion was as much a part of the thing as the black hooding section, and that the features had been formed from the rubber itself, giving the effect of a large pouting mouth, a wide nose and huge, staring blue eyes emphasised with what appeared on the surface to be extravagantly applied make-up and a pair of the longest, heaviest eyelashes I had ever seen.