Black Widow

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When Nick goes to the funeral of his deceased boss, he has to show his sympathy for the widow in a quite unusual way.

The Black Widow
by Lin Dale

Nick felt it obligatory to go to Jake Hunter's funeral; the kind of thing which simply had to be done. Jake was the owner of the small on-line sales company where Nick worked doing computer support. They'd had a good working relationship. Jake had recognised Nick's competence and had been content to leave him alone to get on with things, which really suited Nick. It also suited Jake down to the ground, because he much preferred developing his relationship with the almost exclusively female members of staff rather than getting involved with the machinery which allowed his business to run.

And develop female relationships, Jake certainly did, much to Nick's eternal envy. He had that charm which women seem to feel irresistible; certainly they were always only too happy to work late with Jake. Nick closed his mind to what almost certainly went on in the computer room - the only closed room in the small open plan warehouse - in those late evenings. What Nick was never able to understand was why Jake felt the need to do it anyway, when he had a lovely wife like Chantelle.

She'd be around Jake's age so in her late forties, but she looked fantastic with her shoulder-length blonde hair, huge boobs (although Nick wasn't really a boob man), a slim waist and beautifully moulded bum and hips. They'd met a few times at company nights out, and she and Nick had great conversations whilst Jake had patrolled the room, talking to all his old flames and seeking out new ones.

And now he was dead, and Nick and half a dozen female staff members took the train out of London to a crematorium set in deepest Surrey. The women all wailed at the funeral, whilst Nick thought about the control system they must have for moving the coffin from its place at the front of the chapel into the furnace. Afterwards, they queued to leave the chapel and shake hands with the widow. Since Nick and the others had been sitting at the back of the chapel, they were the last to leave, and for some reason, all the women had disappeared when it came time to meet Chantelle.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs Hunter," he repeated the same words which dozens of others had said before.

"Thank you, Nick. And it's Chantelle, not Mrs Hunter." She gave him a smile. "Are you coming to the wake?"

"Oh. Well…" This was embarrassing. "I'd understood that it was to be a private wake and that staff weren't invited."

Chantelle gave a quick glance around to make certain they were not overheard before saying, "I didn't want all of Jake's floozies to attend. You'd be very welcome, Nick."

"Oh, that's nice of you but we were due to share a taxi back to the station." He glanced around to find the rest of his colleagues had managed to circumnavigate talking to Chantelle and were standing in a group a few yards away – no doubt, still mourning God's gift to women. One of them gesticulated to him to get a move on, which Chantelle noticed.

"In any case," she said in a voice loud enough to carry to the group, "I have some papers from Jake's briefcase which probably need to be returned to the warehouse. I think you'd better pop into the house on the way to the wake and take a look at them. Unless your girlfriend is over there and you need to return with her."

He didn't quite smirk in front of the others at being singled out, but he certainly felt like it. "No, I don't really have a girlfriend, so coming back with you sounds a good idea."

He followed her to her car and as soon as they were moving she seemed to break down, sobbing violently as she drove, making Nick wonder whether she was going to crash the car. He cautiously put his hand on her shoulder and said, "It's all right, Chantelle, it's all right." Which was a stupid thing to say since it clearly wasn't.

"Can you imagine what it's like, Nick," she sobbed, "to have your husband continually having sex with others?"

"I'm sure he wasn't..." Nick started to say when Chantelle jumped in

"Don't lie to me Nick. I trust you to tell me the truth."

He nodded and said, "Sorry and no, I can't imagine what that's like. It must be dreadful."

That seemed to calm her down slightly and she managed to say, with just the occasional sniff, "I loved the guy, which is why I couldn’t leave him, and I hated him at the same time. Does that make sense?"

"Yes." He smiled at her. "It makes a lot of sense."

"Do you think I'm repulsive, Nick?" she asked him.

"You're not repulsive," he said. "You're gorgeous." On reflection, he thought he shouldn't have used that word; it was a little too close to the truth.

"Gorgeous?" The sobs had completely disappeared now and she looked surprised. "You don't really think so. I must be twice your age."

"In that case, I can only be fifteen," he said.

She laughed through her tears. "You're crazy." She gave him a more careful look. "Do you know, I haven't laughed since Jake died? In fact, I haven't laughed for a long time before Jake died. Do you think it's wicked for a widow to laugh on the day of her husband's funeral?"

"I think the funeral is a benchmark when you realise that life does go on. So, yes, I think it's OK to laugh. It suits you."

Her tear-laden eyes beamed as she looked sideways at him. "You're not a bad chatter-up of women yourself. Did Jake train you?"

"Me! I can't chat-up women to save my life. I think Jake despised my lack of success with women."

She grimaced. Now she thought of it, she could remember her husband doing exactly that. "I suspect it's simply because you haven't met the right woman. You'll be fine when that happens."

"Maybe," then, as she turned the car in to the driveway of a large detached house, "Is this your place? It looks fantastic."

It was a rhetorical question as she had pulled to a stop and was getting out of the car, but it had its desired effect in taking her mind off other things. "Do you want to come in and look around it? We can't be too long as we have to get to the wake."

"OK," he said, adding as he got out of the car, "If I lived here with a wife like you, I'd make certain I got home early every night, rather than working late, like Jake did."

"I thought we'd agreed," she said with a little smile as she opened the front door, "that Jake may have been on the job but he wasn't working late."

"No comment," he said, following her into the hallway. "Wow, this is nice."

She gave him a whistle-stop tour of the ground floor, ending in Jake's study where his briefcase stood open on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, she noticed Nick's eyes flicking down at her cleavage.

She pulled out the manila files from the briefcase and asked, "What do you think?"

"They're suppliers' bills," he said, reaching out to take them from her. "I'll take them back with…" He hesitated as she hadn't released the file, creating a tug of war between them.

"I meant," she said, still hanging onto the files, "what do you think about my cleavage? I did notice you checking me out."

"I'm so sorry," he said, having another little pull to extract the files from her grasp. "I really shouldn't have done that."

"You still haven't answered my question. What do you think of my cleavage?" Still, she was holding onto the files and clearly wasn't going to let go until she'd got her answer.

"It's… They're… beautiful."

He was madly blushing, something Chantelle thought rather nice. She'd never known Jake blush in his entire life.

She released the files as he added, "I think it's nice that you've lost a little weight. That really suits you."

"It's my boobs which have got smaller," she said. "You approve? Jake always preferred me to have big ones."

"Then in spite of his so-called experience," Nick said, "Jake simply didn't recognise beauty when he saw it." His eyes narrowed as he thought through her words. "But do you mean your breasts have dramatically reduced in size since Jake died? It's only been two weeks. I know people can lose weight after their partner dies but you've lost quite a lot. Is everything all right?"

"Oh Nick." She was really touched he'd not only noticed but was thinking of her. "Let's just say there are ways in which women can make their breasts appear larger than they really are. Now that Jake's dead, I decided I'd show what I have, rather than what Jake liked me to be."

"And look all the better for it," he said. "You have fantastic boobs."

Afterwards, Chantelle couldn't believe what she said and did next. "Do they feel as good as they look?" she asked, lifting Nick's hands and pushing them against her breasts.


As sex goes, it would never have made it to the Academy Awards. There were no screaming orgasms, no earth-moving moments, or even hour-long ecstasies. But that is rarely needed for two people to feel absolutely fantastic, both during and after the act. The only noticeable highlight, apart from the obvious, was that in her desire to reciprocate Nick's touch, Chantelle rather hastily undid his shirt, pulling off three buttons as she did so. They ended up grinning at each other like Cheshire cats.

"That was lovely," Chantelle said.

"Gorgeous," Nick said, a word he had used before but which still admirably fitted the bill.

"I'm afraid I rather damaged your shirt," she said, nodding downwards. "You won't be able to come to the wake like that." Then, "Oh my God! The wake. The mourners will be waiting for me. I must go." A moment's hesitation, followed by a nervous question, "Will you still be here when I get back?"

"Unless you're going to throw me out on the streets with my clothes torn apart by a sex fiend."

"No," she shook her head with a beaming smile on her face. "I'm not going to do that. Take a shower and use the washing machine if you want. I'll find a needle and thread when I get back. See you later. Bye."

She ran out the door and a few seconds later, Nick heard the car start up and drive off. For many minutes, he luxuriated in the wonderful post-coital feeling but after a while he realised he really should take that shower and maybe wash his shirt as well. In fact it would make sense if he washed his underpants and socks at the same time. Presumably he'd be able to find some of Jake's clothes to wear when he came out of the shower. So he found the washing machine, threw his clothes in and set it going. Then he took his shower.


The phone was ringing when he came out of the shower. He wasn't certain what he should do. It could be someone who'd be mighty suspicious if an unknown man answered. But his doubts were eased when the answerphone kicked in and he heard Chantelle say, "Nick, it's me. Pick up the phone."

When he did so she said, "Hi Nick. I just wanted to thank you for making me laugh this afternoon."

"I want to thank you for everything else," he told her. "It was fantastic."

"It was, wasn't it?" she said. "I'd better get back to my wake now. Oh, one more thing, if you need to wear something whilst your clothes are in the wash then use mine. We're closer in size and I'd like to keep Jake's things... Well… special. Is that OK?"

With Jake probably in the oven whilst they were fucking, Nick could understand why Chantelle wouldn't want him wearing his clothes. "That's fine," he said, "Don't worry about me."


It was only after he put the phone down that he realised he'd been thinking of borrowing a pair of Jake's jeans and tee shirt, and he'd probably find something acceptable in Chantelle's wardrobe. But of course, he'd also need underpants and socks.

He did think of still using some of Jake's, but thought that might sour his relationship with Chantelle, the very last thing he wanted to do. So he went through Chantelle's drawers until he found her knickers and selected a plain white pair. They were very comfortable when he put them on and he got an immediate boner. How embarrassing! At least, it would have been if Chantelle had been there. He couldn't find any jeans, but he did find a selection of track suits. He chose a pastel blue one as being the least feminine of them all and found a white, figure hugging top which felt even sexier than the knickers. His boner was pushing out the bottoms in a most unladylike way.


"Hi Nick. Do you have any… Oh, you look so sweet in that outfit."

Nick had been watching TV and Chantelle's sudden entrance caught him by surprise. He felt a warm surge at her compliment, even though many blokes would have considered it an insult. "Thanks," he smirked. "Do I have any what?"

"I was going to ask you if you had any plans for the weekend. If you didn't want the hassle of travelling back home tonight, you could stay here overnight… or longer. I mean, it wouldn't take a minute to make up the bed in my daughter's room or…"

"I wouldn't want to put you to the trouble…

"…of making up your daughter's bed," he added with an even bigger smirk.


"You know you said you didn't really have a girlfriend," Chantelle said in the pitch darkness, her head resting on his chest. "Would you mind if I asked a personal question? Like a very personal one and you may not want to answer it."

In the darkness, Nick deliberated for a minute and then said, "Yes."

"What? Yes, you'd mind or…"

"Yes is the answer to your question."

"Oh." She deliberated for a minute and then said, "I've put my mouth around one personal issue. I guess I'd better put it around another." She slid her head under the bedclothes and moved down the bed.


"I've been thinking," Chantelle said next morning.


"It's been a wonderful night. Not quite what the doctor ordered to get over my grief, but far more effective than any pills he could have given me."

"But?" He sat up in bed, looking at her.

"It's never going to work, Nick. Long term, I mean. You're a wonderful man and you'll make someone a loving partner, but I'm twice your age. Sooner or later, you're going to want a girl your own age. So I think it better if you get dressed and go back to London. And, er, thank you." She kissed him on his cheek.

"But we're wonderful together," he said. "That was the most incredible night of my life…"

"And that's only because you've led a limited life until now, Nick. You just needed a kick start to get going, so last night was good for both of us. But I'll go and get your shirt out of the washing machine, give it an iron and sew on those buttons. Then I'll run you to the station."

After she had left the room, Nick thought he was going to cry. He'd spent years of lonely frustration, miserably failing to get any female even remotely interested in him, and now, the one woman who was not only wonderful to be with, but had no sexual inhibitions, had loved him and was leaving him. He lay still for several minutes, the tears welling in his eyes, and then, as he heard her coming up the stairs, blew his nose and dabbed his eyes.

"I thought you said you knew how to set the washing machine?"

"Yes, it's like my mum's."

"Well, you must have pushed the rinse hold. Your clothes are currently in a drum full of water. It'll take ages to spin and dry them."

"In that case," he said, watching as she pulled the thin housecoat around her, "we might as well say goodbye properly."

"No, Nick." "No! Nick, no!" "Oh, yes please."


"OK," she said, some time later. "Two conditions. The first is that when you eventually meet another woman, you break off our relationship before you have sex with her. I can't stand another repetition of what happened with Jake."

Nick nodded. "I cross my heart," he said.

"You're supposed to put your hand on your own heart, not mine," she said with a smile. "The second condition is more difficult to achieve. You see, I have so many friends who know how Jake was treating me. They're all on my side, at the moment. Even the female friends who were shagging Jake. They're all helping me. And their moral support is important to me."

"And if they knew you'd had sex within minutes of leaving the crematorium you'd lose that support."

"If they knew I was living with another man within six months of Jake's death, I'd shock most of them. I can't risk that."

"So we have to meet surreptitiously," he suggested. "Lots of people seem to manage to have affairs without their partners realizing. I guess Jake fooled you plenty of times."

"I know from experience that the partner is usually easiest to fool. They're at work all day, or at a weekend conference or whatever. But neighbours are particularly hard to fool, especially ones like mine who're continually snooping, or doing neighbourhood watch, or whatever they call it. The only reason I got you in unnoticed yesterday was because everyone was at the wake, waiting for the grieving widow to turn up. I was really struggling this morning, trying to work out how to smuggle you out again and keep my reputation intact."

"So what was your solution?" he asked.

"I don't have one, yet… Except, well there is one idea we could try, only you wouldn't agree to it."

"If it keeps us together then it's a no-brainer."

He smiled at her and she smiled back.

"OK," she said. "It's your choice. If you agree to my suggestion then there's a future for us, but if you refuse or say it won't work, then we'll have to go our own ways. Agreed?"

He looked at her lying naked next to him on the bed, her kissable lips smiling at him, the nipples on her perk little tits pointing to the ceiling, and her womanhood on full display. "Agreed," he said.

"We have to pass you off as one of Jake's friends who's been staying with me overnight."

"OK," he said, "but I don't see how it's going to help whether Jack is a friend of mine or just my boss."

"I meant," she said, "one of his lovers."

Nick's eyes glazed for a second, trying to work out how that all fitted together. He'd certainly never noticed any hint of homosexuality in Jake, but even if he had been, it didn't mean to say that any male he might have had sex with didn't swing both ways. No, Jake was a womaniser, through and through. Gulp!

"You mean I pretend to be female?"

"Do you remember I said you looked so sweet when I returned home last night and you were wearing my blue track suit?"

"Yes," he admitted. "But you didn't say I looked like a woman."

"There are lots of things we can do to make you look female. The question is do you want to give it a go or simply give up our relationship now?"

He looked at her again. "I'll do anything to have a relationship with you."

Chantelle couldn't stop herself from smirking. If she'd suggested such a thing to Jake he'd have laughed at her at best, or derided her and made her feel stupid for even suggesting it. But Nick's words made her feel pretty emotional.

"Brilliant," she said. "Then we'd better get on with it."


As Nick stared into the mirror, a pretty girl, naked from the waist up, stared back at him, her hands supporting her large breasts.

"For heaven's sake, lighten up, Nicole," Chantelle said. "You're a pretty girl. Smile."


"We have to call you something. Now smile."

So, he did and the girl smiled back. She looked so much nicer when she smiled, but she looked pretty good, anyway. Nick would never have believed that the person he was actually looking at was himself, but looking in a way he had never looked before.

Unless, that is, he looked below the waistline where a very obvious part of male anatomy protruded outwards and upwards.

"I'll take care of that in a few minutes," she told him, following his glance, with a rather wicked smile. "I need to get something from my bedroom."

So she went off to her bedroom whilst Nick contemplated the last hour's events. It had started by covering him with hair removal cream followed by a thorough shower. Simply removing all his body hair seemed to make him look far more feminine. Then Chantelle had explained the secret of her sudden reduction in boob size; it seemed that up until Jake died, she had been wearing breast forms that gave her a D-cup. After deciding to remove them, she reverted to her natural A-cup. She had got them out for Nick to look at.

"You want me to wear those?"

She had smiled. "It's your choice, but if you want to continue our relationship, then you need to look a convincing female, and if you want to look…"

"OK, do your worst," Nick had said.

She had spread an adhesive onto his chest from slightly below his nipples almost up to his underarm, and then waited for some time for it to dry. Then, she picked up one of the wobbling breast forms and offered it up to his chest. "Hold that in place," she had said, and then repeated the operation with the other breast form, so Nick was left holding two wobbling breasts.

He checked Chantelle was still in her bedroom before giving them an experimental squeeze. They felt bloody gorgeous.

"I met my friend Silver Sylvie at college," she said, catching him by surprise as he squeezed them again.

"Silver Sylvie was taking a jewellery-making course," Chantelle continued, "which is how she got her nickname. We were sitting in the refectory one day when Jake came up to us and asked me to go out with him, which I immediately accepted. He was always incredibly good looking. When he'd left, Sylvie told me that she had already known him, in the biblical sense, and not to touch him with a bargepole as he was shagging every female in the college."

She ruefully smiled. "It didn't make any difference, of course. When we got engaged, Jake bought the diamond and Sylvie made it into a ring for me…" She held up her left hand to display the diamond ring that Nick had already noticed. "…and she made this for Jake, using a body moulding which I supplied. It's called a Y-gina"

She brought her right hand from behind her back to reveal… a plastic vagina!

"Yes, this really was how my pussy was when I was seventeen," she said. "Mine has been rather used and abused since then, I'm afraid."

"Was Sylvie expecting Jake to masturbate into that instead of shagging you?" Nick asked, trying not to let his mouth droop open.

"Oh no," she said. "I'll demonstrate in a minute. First we have to get rid of that." She nodded towards his erection and went down on her knees.


"So once the erection has disappeared…" Chantelle said, grabbing his shaft beneath the balls with one hand, and picking up the plastic vagina with the other. Except that this time Nick noticed two curved metal claws protruding from the one end which made the overall shape look like a letter Y. Hence the term, Y-gina, he thought.

"…you simply slide the jaws around the base of the penis, taking care not to catch any delicate bits…" As she did so, the jaws snapped shut around the base of his penis; "…and continue sliding the pussy over the top of the now flaccid penis and between the legs…" This was accompanied by a sound of a ratchet clicking. "…until it won't go any further.

"There," she said, standing back and admiring her work.

Nick stared at it too. "I've got a vagina," he said.

"Yes," she said. "It's called a Y-gina because it's a vagina for those with a Y chromosome. Sylvia made is as a perfect replica of my vagina when I was seventeen. Aren't you lucky?"

"It's beautiful," he said, "but what happens if I need to go to the toilet."

"You simply sit down and wee like every other woman."

"But how about having sex?"

"Ah," she said. "I'm afraid the level of realism doesn't extend that far. The only type of sex you can indulge in when wearing it is giving oral sex to someone else… or having anal sex if you fancy that. Maybe we could give that a go sometime. I have a dildo somewhere."

"No," he said. "I mean how do I remove it?"

"That's why Sylvie made it for Jake. It has armoured steel beneath that soft skin. The beauty is that it doesn't come off; not without the special key, anyway."

For some reason, he was starting to get hard again, only there was no room for his hardness to expand. It was getting quite uncomfortable. "Well, where's the key, Chantelle?" he yelled.

"Here," she said, holding up her ring finger. "I have to insert my ring finger inside your quim and push the diamond against just the right place. It's all a bit fiddly but it does work. The point is that my diamond is uniquely cut, and any other shaped diamond simply won't lift the tumbler thing to release it. It was very clever of Sylvie. It meant that Jake would be safe from other women, or more accurately, they would be safe from him and he'd have to be faithful in our engagement."

"Did it work?" he asked.

Chantelle pulled a face. "I've never known Jake get violent before – or after, for that matter – but he was then. He forced me to get him out of it. Said it was very painful… It's not, is it?"

"Only every twenty seconds," he said, "when I try to get an erection."

"That's the beauty of using it in these circumstances. It would be no good making you into a fantastically pretty girl when your thing pops up every twenty seconds.

"And also, of course," she continued, "it comes back to your first promise, not to have sex with anyone before ending it with me. Wearing this is showing that you're not just saying that – you really mean it."

"You mean you're expecting me to wear this not just whilst I'm here, pretending to be a girl, but all the time I'm at home as well?"

"Of course. That's what being faithful to someone else means and I know you'll understand when I say my faith in males to resist temptation is pretty low. Those women who came to the funeral yesterday, you could see half of those had you in their sights, as soon as the funeral was out the way."

"They were? But some were..." He stopped himself in time from saying twice his age.

"They were all missing Jake and will be looking for a replacement. That's why it's essential you wear this from now on, until you want to end our relationship, that is."

"Right," he said, his mind reeling with the implications.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go into my daughter, Emily's room. She's about your age and size. She has lots of clothes suitable for you."

"Won't she mind?" he asked. "Where is she, anyway?"

"She's working in Brussels at the moment," she said, leading the way to Emily's bedroom. "She had to go straight back to London after the funeral to catch the train to Brussels in time for an important meeting. And what she doesn't know about, she won't mind. I'm certainly not going to tell her why you need to borrow them."

She slid open the wardrobe door. "Look at all her lovely clothes," she said, sweeping her hand along the rail.

As he capped his eyes on the wonderful selection of brightly coloured, pretty clothes, there was an excruciating pain between his legs.

"Great," he agreed, almost bending double in agony.


By about three pm, Nicola was dressed in a pretty, blue top and short denim skirt, and had been given basic lessons in makeup: just foundation and a little eye shadow. In fact, they'd been sitting in the lounge drinking coffee, then they had started smooching and Nicole had pushed Chantelle's left hand down towards her pussy, and had been trying to get her ring finger in just the right place to release the all-important catch. The ring on the doorbell took them by surprise.

"Who's that?" Nicole hissed at Chantelle, worried she might be seen dressed in female clothes.

"No idea," she said. "Don't worry, I'll go."

Chantelle was only a few seconds at the front door before Nicole heard it close again and she returned to the lounge.

"This is Peter, my next door neighbour," she said, waving to the man who had followed her in. "This is Nicole, one of Jake's friends."

"Oh!" Nicole said, spluttering over her coffee. Fortunately, she'd used the small voice she'd been practising that afternoon.

"Hello, Nicole," Peter said, smiling down at the wonderful cleavage and the long legs which the pretty girl was trying to hide under her short skirt. "Nice to meet you." He held out his hand for Nicole to shake and stupidly, she stood up, as Nick had always done to shake hands.

"Peter was worried I was all on my own," Chantelle said, "but I've told him that you're staying for the weekend to give me some company."

"Oh, yes," Nicole said, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him, or failing that, Peter would rapidly leave. He almost died with fright at Chantelle's next words.

"Would you like a coffee, Peter?" Chantelle asked him.

"Oh, yes please."

"I'll go and pour it. Have a nice chat together, you two."

"So you were one of Jake's friends," Peter said with a smirk.

"I worked for him actually," he said.

"Or worked under him, you mean," Peter said. "Nod-nod, wink-wink."

"Actually," Nicole said, "we had a totally chaste relationship."

"Course you did," Peter said. "Did he chase you or, as was usually the case, did you chase him?"

"Ha, ha." Nicole said, thinking how totally unfunny Peter was.

"The point is," Peter said, "you must be missing a bit of the old slap and tickle, if you know what I mean? Well I happen to be rather more qualified than Jake in that department. I always had an extra inch over him."

"Are you boasting again, Peter?" Chantelle said, entering the room with Peter's coffee. "He's talking about his height," she added for Nicole's benefit."

"I can guess what Nicole thought I was talking about," Peter said. "Young ones today are obsessed with talking about sex. In my day, we didn't talk about it, we simply did it, didn't we, Chantelle?"

"Dickhead," Nicole muttered under her breath.

"No we didn't, Peter," Chantelle said, answering Peter's question and giving Nicole a warning look. "I was always faithful to Jake throughout our marriage."

"Well hopefully," he said with a leering smile, "it won't be long before you find someone else. Don't play the grieving widow for too long, eh? You know how I..." But whatever Peter was going to say was lost as Nicole crossed her legs exposing her knicker-less pussy, and he spilt his hot coffee all down his trousers.


"You must learn to keep your legs closed," Chantelle said as soon as he had departed. "It's something every girl learns when they're young children. Peter will think you were coming onto him, so you'd better watch your step when you next see him."

"Why on earth did you let him in in the first place?" Nicole said. "He's a dirty old lecher with pathetic jokes who was giving me nothing but innuendo whilst you were pouring the coffee."

"Peter is a very kind neighbour who has been tremendously supportive whilst Jake has been playing away," Chantelle said. "I won't hear of you deriding him, and if you think his language is offensive, you're going to have to get worse to a lot worse, every time you walk past a man in the street."

"But I won't be walking past any men in the streets," Nicole said. "I'll revert to a man before I…

"Oh," she added as she realised she would have to leave the house wearing female clothes. "I'm not certain I can…"

"It's still your choice, Nicola," Chantelle said. "You can go home and revert to being Nick all the time, and never see me again, or you can be brave and face up to the commitments you've made."

Nicole nodded and smiled. "You're right," she said. "I have to face up to it. Now can we get back to where we left off?"

"For a while," Chantelle said, "but we'll have to prepare for going out to dinner in a while."

"Going out! You mean to a restaurant?" She looked shocked for a second and Chantelle simply stared back at her, then Nicole nodded again and said, "I suppose you've already chosen what I'm going to wear."

"You bet, it's…"

But their conversation was interrupted by the turning of a key in the front door lock.

"Hi Mum," the young woman called out. "My meeting last night was cancelled so I spent the night in London with Rachel and I've come home to do some mother/daughter bonding."

She came into the lounge and saw Nicole. "Oh hello. Who are you and why are you wearing my clothes?"


Chantelle made the introductions and explained that someone had knocked a glass of red wine over Nicole at the wake and they had taken her clothes straight to the cleaners. Chantelle had known Emily wouldn't mind Nicole borrowing hers for a while.

"Of course not," she said, "and I think that outfit probably suits you better than me. So you were a friend of Dad's, were you?"

"I used to work for him actually," Nicole said, "and we became friends."

"Did you have sex with him?" Emily asked.

"Emily!" Chantelle said. "Mind your own business."

"No I didn't," Nicole said.

"There you are," Emily said. "I knew you had good taste."


"So you stayed last night," Emily said, looking puzzled, "but you didn't bring a suitcase with you or a change of clothes."

"I wasn't going to stay," Nicole said, speaking the truth, "but I got delayed by the trip to the cleaners and your mother was very nice and said I should stay the night."

"We were having a nice time," Chantelle jumped in, "so I suggested she stay until tomorrow. We were going to Luigi's tonight. Shall I change the reservation to three?"

"Great," Emily said. "I haven't been to Luigi's for ages." She turned to Nicole, "And I presume you would like to borrow a slinky little dress?"

Gulp! "Well…"

"Of course she would," Chantelle said, "except she's too shy to ask outright."

"Come on then," Emily said. "Let's go upstairs and sort something out. I could do with a shower and I expect you could too?"

Gulp! Gulp! "Er…"

"Good idea, Nicole," Chantelle said. "Emily will help you with everything."


"Oh, Nicole. Are you all right?" A completely naked Emily leant over her, concern written all over her face. "Is it your period pains?"

"Period pains?" For a minute, Nicole wondered what she was talking about. Somewhere inside her pussy, a part of her was trying to get rock hard, and it simply had nowhere to go. It was excruciating. "Er, yes. That's it. Period pains. I don't think I've had them before – this bad."

"Oh you poor thing. I find that massaging the area with my fingers helps. Do you want me to show you?"

"No. No, that's all right. Really. Just leave me a bit and I'll be OK. Why don't you get dressed?"

"If you're sure I can't do anything. Look, I've reckon this sexy little dress will be just right for you. It's got a matching thong, garter belt and stockings... Oh, Nicole, are you all right?"


The important thing, Nicole realised, was that she was now a girl. She was not attracted by the female form, at all. She had no desire to have sex with them. She was heterosexual, so she must take an interest in the two guys Emily was pointing out across the restaurant, who, Emily maintained, had the hots for them.

"You didn't sleep in Dad's bed last night, did you?"

The abrupt change of subject surprised both Nicole and Chantelle and it was Chantelle who replied. "We had a few more drinks after the wake, and Nicole fell asleep on the settee. I put a blanket over her and left her there.

"Jake and I haven't slept together for many years," she continued for Nicole's benefit. "So we don't have a spare room as such. Before Emily arrived, I was going to suggest you sleep in Emily's bed tonight but..."

"I don't want her sleeping in Dad's bed," Emily interrupted. "She can share mine tonight."

"Er, well," Nicole stuttered. "Won't that be rather cramped? Didn't I see you had a king-sized bed in your room, Chantelle? Perhaps I could share yours?"

"Don't be daft," Emily said. "Mum snores. Besides, it will be fun sleeping with me. And I can massage your period pains if they return."


She did as well, but the problem was, the more she massaged, the more it hurt, and the more it hurt, the more Emily massaged. It was the early hours of the morning before Emily finally fell asleep and Nicole herself was able to fall asleep. The night before, she had been in a bed in heaven; that night had been a bed in hell.

The following morning, Emily took another shower and Nicole's period pains returned again. By the time she got down to breakfast, wearing another set of sexy clothes provided by Emily, she decided she'd had enough; there was going to be no opportunity to have further sex with Chantelle that weekend. It would be better to get the train home. Chantelle drove her to the station, unfortunately accompanied by Emily, so there was no chance of any personal conversation, only a little wave as they departed at the ticket barrier.


As soon as Nicole got home, she wanted to change back to Nick again, as far as she could. She went to her bedroom, kicked off her pale blue trainers, removed her denim skirt and matching top and pulled down her tights. She was just about to take off her bra and panties when she noticed herself in the mirror. Wow!

It was the first time she'd properly had chance to examine herself since that whirlwind sex change the previous morning. Even after the essentials had been done, Chantelle had spent hours in beautifying her, quite unnecessarily, Nicole had thought at the time. She had washed and conditioned her hair and blow dried it, giving it a lift which made it look quite feminine. She had painted her toe nails a bright red, and painted a gel over her cracked and ridged fingernails, then spent ages buffing them up. They were just the same length as before, but they shone and transformed her hands.

She had used more adhesive to fill in the slight gap around the edge of breast forms, and then brought out a spray can and sprayed her skin to make it just the right colour match so you really couldn't see the join. She glanced down at them projecting from her chest and even from here, she could barely discern where they met her skin.

As she felt herself getting hard down below, she rapidly transferred her gaze down there, to what appeared to be a beautiful vulva. The beauty was, of course, only skin deep, and Nicole moved her hand down there to slip it inside her slit, where she could just feel the end of her penis, in its constraining prison. No room for a man's thrusting cock. Pity, she thought, then caught herself in horror at what she had just imagined.

It was really time to remove her breasts, use the nail varnish and makeup remover she had bought in the chemists on the way home, and then thoroughly wash her body and hair, ready for work the next day.


Thirty minutes later, she had to admit defeat. Her breasts were stuck to her chest as though they were part of her. Whatever the adhesive Chantelle had used to bond them on, was not going to come off in a hurry. She telephoned Chantelle's house but there was no reply. Presumably, Chantelle was taking Emily to the station for her departure back to Brussels. She left a message, mindful that it might be played back in someone else's hearing. "Hi Chantelle, it's Nicole. I wonder if you could give me a ring back. It's quite important."

As she waited for Chantelle to ring back, she wondered whether she might bandage them up, if the worst came to the worst. She found a bandage in the first aid kit, and just a few minutes experimentation showed how hopeless a task it was. They were simply far too large to make them disappear from Nick's otherwise pigeon chest. So it was essential Chantelle rang her back. She gave her another call; still no reply.

She got dressed back in the top and skirt she had arrived in and moped around for a bit. Then she decided her flat really looked a mess, so she spent several hours giving it a spring clean, and felt so much better when that was done. After she'd cooked the convenience meal she'd bought at the station, she rang Chantelle again; no reply.

If she wasn't able to make contact, she realised, she would have to take the day of work tomorrow and return to see Chantelle who could show her how to remove the breasts and also release his penis from its imprisonment. Hopefully, without Emily massaging it all night, it wouldn't be half as painful in the night to come.

She rang Chantelle again just before going to be. Still no reply. That decided it.


"Hi, Chantelle. I need your help with..."

Nicole's voice faltered after Chantelle held up a finger to her lips in a Don't Talk gesture. "Hello, Nicole," she said. "I'm afraid you've come at an inopportune moment. You'd better come in." She turned and led the way inside to the kitchen. "Look who's come to see us," she said to the occupant.

Nicole followed her into the kitchen to find a dressing-gown clad Peter eating breakfast. "Oh," was all she could say.

"I think we'd better go into the study and have a chat," Chantelle said. "Peter, could you bring Nicole in a cup of tea, please?"


"I thought we had an agreement," Nicole said. "You betrayed me."

"The agreement," Chantelle said, "was that you wouldn't have sex with anyone else before you ended our relationship. I made no similar commitment."

"But of course you did," Nicole blustered. "We agreed to have a relationship."

"So did Jake," Chantelle pointed out, "but it didn't stop him screwing every woman he met."

"But…" Nicole paused, lost for words, and then a new thought struck her. "Was that a one off, with Peter, the same as me? Or is this long term and you've been as unfaithful to Jake as he was to you?"

"Ah," Chantelle said. "I'm afraid you've hit the nail on the head. Peter and I have been long term lovers. Jake obviously knew, but we've been more subtle about our relationship than Jake ever was. They were Peter's clothes in the wardrobe, not Jakes. I took his clothes to Oxfam the same day he died."

Further talk was suspended as the study door opened and Peter entered, bearing two cups of tea.

"Couldn't stay away from me, eh, Nicole?" he said. "I'm sure Chantelle won't mind us getting to know each other."

"Piss off, Peter, and leave us alone," Chantelle said without rancour.

When he had gone, Nicole said, "I think I'd like you to remove my vagina, now. And help me remove the breasts."

Chantelle gave a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, I forgot to give you the bottle of glue remover. I guess that's why you returned today, was it? Rather caught me out, I'm afraid." She held up her ring finger. "OK, I think it's probably best if you slip off your panties and bend right over the desk. I should be able to unlock the Y-gina like that."

Nicole did as she said, feeling incredibly exposed as she spread her legs and leant over the desk.

"As I said before," Chantelle said. "It is a bit fiddly."

Nicole could feel Chantelle's finger sliding into the false vagina to tickle the end of Nick's penis. "Ouch," she said.

"Damn!" Chantelle muttered. "I'm sure it's about here I have to press only it really takes a very hard push…"

Nicole felt something give, but the Y-gina still didn't release.

"Shit!" Chantelle said. "It's broken my ring."


"The diamond's popped out of its housing," Chantelle said. "It's rolled underneath the desk. Help me look for it."

So they both got down onto their hands and knees and searched under the desk for the diamond. Eventually, Chantelle said, "It's over here, down the crack by the radiator pipe."

Nicole crawled over there, to see it partly wedged between the floorboards and the central heating pipe as it passed through the floor.

Chantelle said, "I think if I use a sharp pencil I can flick it out." She reached up to the desk, found a pencil, and pushed it down towards the diamond.

"Careful," Nicole shouted and grabbed her arm as she gave the diamond a little poke. The diamond dropped through the hole in the floorboards and out of sight.

"Looks like you'll be staying here rather longer than expected," Chantelle said with a bright little smile.

"And," she added, "remaining faithful to me. I'm afraid it's like I said. The only sex you're going to have until we can get the floor taken up is some oral from me or getting Peter to give you a bit of anal. I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige."

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It Reminds Me

joannebarbarella's picture

In a way of a Charlotte Dickles story....misadventure, deception and humour....and that's a compliment


Thanks Joanne, although if there is any similarity, it's probably that we both try to uplift our readers' lives, rather than leaving them ready to slash their wrists, as appears to be the object of many authors on this site. I think it's good that recently a number of new writers have appeared with more explicit - and consequently exciting - writing.

But we each are what we are, for better or worse, in sickness or in health... Oh no, that's another story.

Thanks for your comment, although I suspect Charlotte may not feel the same!

Nick may not have been eaten

Nick may not have been eaten by the Black Widow, although it is implied that is exactly what she did do in the middle of the night, but she has left Nick in a situation which many would say was far worse.

Hope not!

Some say revenge is sweet but to me it's far better to kiss and make up. Or should that be makeup and kiss.

chantelle is both abusive and

licorice's picture

chantelle is both abusive and manipulative, she's very clearly a user. why would nick want to 'kiss and makeup' with someone like that?

Win-win vs Lose-lose

Because both people gain when you kiss and make up. Neither person gains when one holds hatred in their heart and tries to exact revenge on the other.

Hatred rots the soul and those who have it spend their lives in hell. If you have it, now is the time to let it go.

Hmmmm, wonder if Emily will

Hmmmm, wonder if Emily will show up again and the Nicole can take up Emily's offer? This is a real problem for Nick/Nicole, because so far he has not had to return to work. When s/he does, will be as Nick or Nicole? I'm betting after being serviced by Peter (the man and the his 'attachement'); it will be Nicole remaining on the scene.

Don't forget...

...that Jake owned the firm, which now presumably belongs to Chantelle. Maybe there's an opening there!!!

looks like the wife has the

looks like the wife has the same morals as the husband

At least...

...Chantelle was only a two-man wife, whereas Jake was an infinite-woman husband.

My,the things we get talked

My,the things we get talked into after a pleasant interlude ;-)


Good Story, but...

Hi Lindale,

Really had a twist there with the lover of the wife. A little disappointed in the lack of detail in the characters, especially the daughter. I know that men that behave badly are called 'wankers', but not sure if I remember the British term for women. Also, not sure why she decided to get hooked up with Nick when she had the neighbor at her beck and call which was practically living with her? Feminize him, humiliate him, for what purpose? Nick didn't sleep with her husband.

A good cliff hanger regardless. Are you planning on taking this story into another chapter?

Thanks for the good read.



Unplanned liaisons

I don't believe the sex after the wake was planned. Lots of people have trouble resisting their sexual urges, and sex after the wake with a young virile partner obviously provided a wonderful release of tension. And an enjoyably night of sex, was simply a continuation.

But in the morning, it was definitely Chantelle who wanted to break up the relationship, and Nick who wanted to continue it. Chantelle probably expected Nick to refuse when she suggested the crossdressing. When he did not, it clearly demonstrated he had the hots for her, and Chantelle is not alone in getting into a relationship with two partners for similar reasons.

Incidentally, one would normally call a woman of loose morals a slag or a tart, neither of which apply to Chantelle. As for the lack of character description, I'm a great believer in providing the most simplest of sketches and letting the reader's mind create the fuller picture. Some readers like that; others don't.

Glad you enjoyed the story.

Is this a revenge story?

Because Nick-Nicole is being treated pretty nastily when he was the only one at the company not misbehaving with Jake. Being extremely encouraged by Chantelle to screw after the funeral seems a poor reason to chew him up and, presumably, spit him out. And the Black Widow-ness of the story seems not yet to have happened.
Ah well,
Thanks anyway

No revenge

As I said in the posts with licorice, I'm really not into revenge. I don't believe the initial sex was anything other than pure lust. Next day, it was Chantelle who wanted to end the relationship, and she probably thought her crossdressing solution would terminate their relationship.

My suspicion is, if the story did continue which is unlikely, it would be a kiss and make up affair.


It's certainly a well-written tale, although why anyone might want to consider kissing & making up with such an unpleasant woman escapes me; it left me with a strong desire to see the spiteful bitch get her comeuppance (but then, I do enjoy revenge themes - if not revenge, then certainly just deserts). Nick didn't deserve what happened to him and as good a read as it was, I can't say I found it uplifting.


I'm amazed at the number of people who are into revenge so I wrote my next story, It Shouldn't Happen to a Dog, especially for them.