Forced into Stockings: Art of Revenge.
It is difficult to please everyone – no doubt about that – and there are fans of different genres and styles.
Many enjoy stories with love and happy endings while others prefer cruelty and extreme FemDom. And there are those who enjoy FemDom with forced feminisation! And, of course, those who enjoy the transgender romance!
However, there has been a consistent flow of emails asking for another in the Forced Into Stockings series. This novella is in response to those emails.
A FemDom Forced Femme fairytale novella!
Gerald has behaved badly and his ex-wife wants revenge. The mysterious Rieka promotes the art of revenge and Gerald becomes Sindee!
This short novella delivers cruel forced feminisation with the ingredients requested by many readers.
(Novella 15,554 words -Forced Fem, Modification, surgery, mind control, bimbo, MF/she-male)
The divorce was long over. Julia told herself that, that it was good to finalise a relationship.
It wasn’t as if Gerald had taken her money, although he had tried. She was quite a wealthy woman and her ex-husband had certainly tried to get more money from her.
However, money was not everything.
What was important was the sense of everything being right! That the ritual of the end was observed, that she be the winner!
Unfortunately, the world saw him as the winner and Julia as the loser.
She stared at the newspaper and the wedding photograph, her hands shaking with restrained fury.
Smiling from the black and white photograph was her ex-husband Gerald Mawson, businessman and known adulterer.
Standing next to him was a young woman who was looking up at Gerald with a look of complete adoration. She was wearing a very expensive wedding dress and, to Julia’s complete fury, she looked young, fertile and sexy.
The accompanying story did not hide their age difference and, in fact, made quite an important issue of it.
It did not matter the new wife was fifteen years younger than Gerald to society. In fact, Julia knew that people would congratulate him on marrying a younger woman.
That was doubly hurtful as there had been snide remarks when Julia and Gerald had married as she was older than him!
Now, he was seen as a success as he was marrying a younger woman after being married to Julia, an older woman!
Julia peered at the small print through her reading glasses to discover the bride’s name was Marcie and she was nineteen! Of course, she was a “model”! Aren’t they all “models”, Julia thought bitterly.
Gerald did, Julia knew, had a thing for air-headed bimbos! Women with intelligence saw through him while bimbos adored him.
She tossed the newspaper onto the terrace and watched the wind play with the pages while she lit a cigarette.
Julia now only smoked very occasionally but this was a special occasion. It was, after all, her ex-husband’s wedding day!
It did not matter that the wedding was at least a day old as it took a day for the English newspapers to arrive in Italy.
To Julia, this was the day!
He did look good though, Julia admitted to herself.
Gerald was only thirty four and managed to look much younger. The smooth unblemished skin helped as did the full head of thick hair. He was also smaller than most men were and very healthy so he looked younger than he actually was.
It was ironic that he was marrying a woman fifteen years younger than he was, as the age difference between Gerald and Julia was almost fifteen years.
The mobile rang and Julia answered it.
‘Did you get the newspapers?’ It was Savoy, Julia oldest and dearest friend.
‘You know he sent me an invitation to the wedding?’
‘You told me,’ Julia said with a sigh.
‘He is an evil bastard! You are well shot of him.’
‘He got what he wanted from me.’
‘But he didn’t get your money, Julia. You kept that from him.’
‘He did steal money from me, Savoy, as you know.’
‘A few hundred thousand pounds! That’s nothing to you and it tipped you off to the sort of bloke he was!’
‘Yes, probably. Anyway, he has enough of his own now. He’s very successful.’
‘Because of your contacts, darling. Don’t forget that! He ingratiated himself with your business friends!’
And now they’re all his friends!
Isn’t it enough to take my dreams and some of my money without taking my friends as well?’
‘That’s what wives do, isn’t it?’ Julia said lightly. ‘It’s the duty of a wife to help her husband’s career.’
‘Anyway,’ Savoy said, ‘you are well shot of him. I feel sorry for the girl, though.’
‘Why? She has a snared an older and rich husband. I think we should congratulate her.’
‘There is that, I suppose. Let’s hope the little bitch cheats on him quickly so he gets a taste of his own medicine.’
‘We can only hope,’ Julia said. ‘And,’ she asked lightly, ‘is his business going well?’
‘Unfortunately, it is. You know he hired Malcolm Segal?’
‘No, I didn’t. Segal is a good financier and operations man.’
‘Exactly! He’ll run the business while Gerald gets the credit! He’s such a…’
‘Bastard!’ Julia finished and the friends laughed.
‘Are you all right, Julia?’ Savoy asked after a moment.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘When are you coming back to England?’
‘I’m enjoying Italy…’
‘Bollocks! Come back. You can’t hide forever.’
‘I know,’ Julia said with a sigh.
‘Listen,’ Savoy said, ‘a woman was asking after you.’
‘She wanted your mobile number. I didn’t give it to her, of course.’
‘Who was she?’
‘She said her name was Aswan but I doubt that it is.’
‘Aswan? Isn’t that a dam or something in Egypt?’
‘Who knows. She looked Japanese or Chinese. I can never tell the difference. It’s like trying to tell the difference between the Irish and the welsh.’
‘God, don’t say that loudly in certain parts of London, Savoy!’
‘What did the mysterious woman want?’
‘She wouldn’t say. She left me her card…’
‘What’s on the card?’
‘Just a phone number.’
‘That’s all? Just a telephone number?’
‘That’s a bit mysterious.’
‘I suppose. It’s aA mobile number.’
‘Give it to me,’ Julia said, reaching for the pencil she had used for her morning Sudoku.
She wrote the number down and Savoy asked,’ are you going to call her?’
‘I might. We’ll see.’
‘I’d better go. Come back, Julia, London is boring without you.’
‘I will,’ Julia laughed. ‘I promise.’
Julia left the piece of paper with the telephone number on the table for several hours and it wasn’t until she had poured her second glass of wine that she picked it up.
On an impulse, she called the number.
The voice was warm and definitely female with an accent that was not easily identifiable.
‘Who is this?’ Julia asked.
‘Who is that?’ There was a teasing note in the other woman’s voice.
‘I think I have the wrong number,’ Julia said stiffly.
‘Don’t hang up, Julia,’ the other woman said.
Julia froze. ‘How…’
‘It’s very simple. The number I gave your friend was just for you. Do you still use Julia Drummond?’
‘Julia Wilkinson now,’ Julia said. ‘And your name is?’ Julia asked pointedly.
‘I didn’t think Savoy needed to know too much about me, Julia,’ Rieka said evenly.
‘Is Rieka even your real name?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It depends on what you want.’
‘I offer services.’
‘You’re selling something?’ Julia said disdainfully. ‘I am not interested…’
‘I think you might be interested, Julia. Would you at least hear me out?’
Julia sighed. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Not on the telephone. Let’s meet for a glass of wine.’
‘I’m not in London…’
‘I know. In fact, I know exactly where you are.’
‘Yes. A villa just outside of Sorrento. There is a café near the square. Shall we meet there tomorrow?’
‘I am not going to harm you, Julia. I am going to offer you something.’
Julia made her mind up quickly.
‘All right. Say, just after three?’
‘How will I know you?’
‘No need to worry, Julia, I know you!’
Rieka was a small woman who had obvious Japanese heritage.
She was impeccably dressed and ordered the very best wine the small establishment had to offer.
The woman looked so neat and petite that Julia felt clumsy and ungraceful in Rieka’s presence.
After the first glass of wine, Julia asked, ‘what is it you are selling, Rieka?’
‘Something quite unique.’
Rieka smiled thinly. ‘Revenge.’
‘Revenge? What do you mean?’
‘Revenge can be hurried and haphazard or it can be well thought out and perfectly implemented. There is an art to revenge.’
Julia looked around the café.
‘And who would I want revenge…’
‘Please, Julia,’ Rieka said mildly, ‘let’s not play games. Your ex-husband, of course.’
‘The idea has a certain appeal, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Julia admitted.
‘I have to warn you, that when I employ my art, the fee is substantial but you can afford it. And, trust me, the results will be worth paying for.’
‘Revenge?’ Julia looked thoughtful at the people in the square. ‘It does sound attractive. What sort of revenge?’
‘Do you hate him, Julia?’ Rieka asked softly.
‘Be honest with me.’
‘Yes,’ Julia snapped, ‘I hate him! He used me, stole from me, cheated on me and tossed me aside in such a cruel manner my self-esteem will take years to recover. So, yes, I hate him! Satisfied?’
‘Hate is a powerful motivational force. I can give you revenge.’
‘What sort of revenge?’
‘Cruel and complete. And, permanent! Are you interested to learn more?’
Julia drained her glass and smiled slowly.
‘Yes,’ she said after a moment, ‘I’m interested.’