The Prisoner Wore Panties - Chapter 6

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Chapter Six – The White Cliffs of Dover

Danielle awoke and was initially unaware of where she was and why she was here. Then she recalled that she was in Katerina’s flat on Munchener Strasse and the awful events that had predicated her arrival here. Tears filled her eyes as she recalled how Steven had sacrificed himself so that she and Katerina could escape.

She rolled over looking for comfort but Katerina was gone, her side of the bed was cold. Pale light seeped through the window and Danielle guessed that it was probably mid-afternoon, she got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. The smell of fresh coffee roused her senses and the need to relieve herself and take sustenance took precedence over her grief. She unpacked her necessaries and found the little bathroom across the hall and took care of her toilette. She applied makeup and dressed in her brown suit and went into the kitchen.

Danielle was quite shocked when she saw Katerina. She had cut her hair into a very short bob and dyed it jet-black; she was wearing a pantsuit and looked very different from the very feminine Katerina that Danielle had come to know. There were some packages on the table and it was obvious that Katerina had been out and about while Danielle was sleeping.

“Do you like it?” Katerina patted the back of her short bob and smiled.

“It suits you but to be honest I preferred it when you looked more feminine; you look nothing like you did when I first met you,” Danielle replied; helping herself to coffee.

“That’s the whole idea. I knew the day would come when I would either be captured or have to go into hiding so I prepared for the eventuality.”

“Because of my family’s business interests I have been able to travel freely between Germany and Switzerland. During one of my stays there I had pictures taken of me with this hairstyle which I then used to make forged travel documents under a false name.”

“I have extensive holdings squirreled away in Swiss banks and I own a small alpine villa there. All I need to do is get to Switzerland without being captured and I can wait out the war; the way I see it I have played my part and made my sacrifices.”

“As long as Willy only told the authorities that we were harbouring POWs and didn’t divulge our escape plans we will be ok. I’m sure that we would have been arrested already if the authorities knew any more than that. I went out this morning after I cut and dyed my hair and made contact with another member of the Resistance; there is nothing to indicate that our cell is compromised but of course I am personally discredited and have been branded a criminal.”

“The Gestapo and the Feldjägerkorps are zealously looking for both myself and a British airman named Corporal Daniel Collingwood, they are distributing pictures of them both. They believe that you ditched the persona of Danielle and that you only dressed enfemme as a ruse to enable your escape from the Stalag. I can’t imagine that Oberst Kurt Wessel has extrapolated to them that you were at a party at his house when you escaped or what he was up to exactly when you went over the wire,” Katerina smiled knowingly.

“I have a full wardrobe and my new identity papers here. I also have an adequate amount of Reichsmarks, which I will share with you. I’m heading south to Zurich and I presume you are heading to somewhere in France after you reach Cologne so we will soon go our separate ways,” Katerina picked up one of the packages off the table.

“A going away present,” Katerina leaned in and kissed Danielle on the cheek.

It was almost liked being kissed by a stranger because Katerina looked so different.

Danielle tore open the package and found two satin and lace bras with small ‘B’ cups that had been slightly padded to provide shape.

Danielle put her arms around Katerina’s neck and kissed her.

“They look wonderful I must try one of them on!” Danielle unbuttoned her blouse and Katerina helped her put on and adjust her new bra.

“Perfect! The bra gives you some shape and heft where you had non,” Katerina admired her handiwork.

Danielle put on her blouse to see the full effect and it did indeed appear that she two small but very nicely proportioned breasts.

“The other packages contain bread, cheese, ham and some condiments. We will make sandwiches to take with us on our journeys,” Katerina said.

“The situation has changed, the Gestapo and the Feldjägerkorps are about to start a door to door search so it’s best we get going soon,” Katerina said gravely.

“I’ll go pack,” Danielle said sweeping up the remaining bra from the table.

Katerina caught her wrist.

“We have to leave soon but not straight away; we have a little time. We may not see each other again,” she pulled Danielle into her arms.

“Best we make good use of what little time we have left together then,” Danielle looked lovingly into Katerina’s eyes and then they kissed.

Katerina led Danielle into the bedroom where they quickly undressed down to their lingerie and fell on the bed. Danielle straddled Katerina, kissing her pressing her body into her.

“I want to feel the softness of you and the hardness of you,” Katerina sighed and reached for Danielle who was fully tumescent.

She guided Danielle's penis to her sex, which was already wet in anticipation. Danielle eased herself inside the warm, slick folds of Katerina’s vagina and began to vigorously fuck her. She would have loved to have spent a long and languid afternoon with her lover but time was of the essence and they were determined to enjoy each other one last time.

Their stockings hissed as their legs intertwined, Danielle driving her penis deep inside Katerina. Katerina’s vagina was tight and clung to Danielle's member as she withdrew it as if not wanting to release the throbbing instrument of pleasure.

Katerina pulled Danielle’s face to hers.

“Fuck me darling. Fuck me hard,” and Danielle acquiesced to her wishes.

She drove her penis deep into Katerina’s vagina, making her gasp and began to fuck her with long, deep strokes. She was close to orgasm but made herself wait until Katerina reached her pinnacle and writhed and gasped beneath her as she came. Danielle allowed herself release and flooded Katerina’s vagina with her semen.

There was no time to enjoy the afterglow and they hastily disengaged, cleaned themselves and fixed their makeup.

They hurriedly dressed and packed; Danielle was miffed, she had run out of surgical tape and had to reuse the tape from her old gaff, which did not hold her genitals as tight to her body as she would like. She put on her tightest pair of panties to help hold everything in place.

When they were ready they steadied themselves and stepped out on the street.

Danielle had escaped once before so she was well aware of the importance of not looking guilty or out of place; being out and about in public for the first time as a woman was exhilarating but she hardly had time enjoy the experience. She needed to be on her guard.

Danielle and Katerina walked together to the railway station as much for mutual support as anything, this gave Danielle some scant time to adapt to presenting herself as a woman in a populated area. They had already said their goodbyes and an open display of affection between two women in public was certain to draw attention to themselves so they made do with a peck on the cheek and a handshake.

The railway station was crowded, noisy and dusty and there were long lines at the ticket windows; a soldier from the Feldjägerkorps stood beside each window scrutinising travel documents. For the first time she experienced chivalry as a woman when she was about to take her place at the back of the line and a man standing near the ticket window called out to her.

“Fraulein; here, please take my place in line,” the handsome gentleman beckoned her.

Several people waiting in the line turned around to stare at her, which was not what she wanted, but she confidently strutted past them to the front of the queue. Several of the women muttered their indignation at her preferential treatment whilst most of the men surreptitiously ogled at her.

“I shouldn’t take your place; all these people have all been waiting in line long before I got here,” Danielle couldn’t help but smile at the suave looking gentleman.

“Nonsense; I am surrendering my place to you and taking your place at the back of the line so it changes nothing for the others,” the man gallantly took her suitcase and put it on the ground and stepped out of line so that Danielle could take his place.

“Very generous and honourable of you sir but you might miss your train by doing so,” Danielle replied.

“Possibly; I’m going to Cologne and the next train leaves in fifteen minutes, however there is another train two hours after that,” the man smiled courteously.

“What a coincidence; so am I,” Danielle regretted it as soon as she’d said it.

The man’s smile widened.

“Well Fraulein, perhaps I can purchase tickets for both of us,” he grinned.

“It’s not Fraulein it’s Frau and, as I am a married woman, I think it is inappropriate for you to buy me anything,” Danielle insisted.

The man was about to reply when the family ahead of them departed the ticket window leaving it vacant.

“Next! Move along please, move along,” the Feldjägerkorps Sergeant beckoned them forward.

Danielle really had no choice as she was pushed forward by the people in the line behind her to the where the soldiers were checking documentation.

“Papers!” the Unterfeldwebel demanded.

Danielle had her documents ready and the man thrust his papers forward at the same time.

“Herr Muller. This woman is a French citizen and is married; are you travelling together?” the Unterfeldwebel asked as he studied their papers.

“Yes we are. I am accompanying her to meet her husband in Cologne,” Herr Muller answered the soldier.

The Unterfeldwebel looked at Herr Muller and gave Danielle the once over and smirked knowingly.

“Your papers are in order, have a pleasant journey,” the soldier’s grin widened as he handed back their papers.

“Why did you tell him that?” Danielle hissed as they approached the window.

“Two first class tickets to Cologne,” the man ignored Danielle and waved a handful of Reichsmarks at the ticket seller.

Danielle had no choice but remain in the company of Herr Muller but as soon as he paid for the tickets she pulled him aside, away from the throng.

“What do you think you are doing?” she whispered angrily.

“Forgive me Madame, may I introduce myself, Hans Muller at your service,” once again he flashed that dazzling smile.

He took Danielle's hand to kiss it but she snatched it back.

“It is my opinion that a woman travelling on her own is never really safe and is subject to possible harassment, especially if she is a foreigner and even more so if she is beautiful; regardless of whether or not she is married,” Hans grinned.

“Where is your husband by the way? If you were my wife I wouldn’t let you out of my sight,” he beamed.

“I am meeting him in Calais,” Danielle had to change her backstory now that Steven had been killed.

Thinking of Steven made her feel sad but she once again regretted telling this man anything.

“I can see the sorrow on your face; you must miss him? But in his absence let me be your escort; I have just purchased two first class tickets, which means we will have a compartment to ourselves. I promise you that I will respect your privacy and behave like a true gentleman,” When Hans took her hand this time she did not withdraw it.

Sitting in a first class carriage had its advantages other than just the luxury, she would not have to engage with the other passengers and she could rest during the overnight trip. Also being in Hans Muller’s company would give the impression that she was accompanied and keep away any would be Lotharios or busybodies.

“Ok, you may be my travelling companion on two conditions. One, I pay you for my own ticket and two you respect my privacy,” Danielle allowed him to kiss her hand and then withdrew it.

“Yes of course to both conditions,” Hans attempted to take her suitcase from her and waved in the direction of the platforms.

“I can carry my own luggage and I will follow you if you don’t mind,” Danielle said.

“I have to admit that I was hoping that you would walk in front of me so that I might gaze at your lovely legs and wonderful bottom,” Hans said roguishly and proceeded ahead of her.

Danielle had packed the rather plain brown suit and wore her stylish blue pinstriped suit; she wished the tailors at The Shop had not made the hem quite so short but the ensemble fitted her perfectly and the mauve long-sleeved silk blouse was the consummate garment to wear beneath the jacket. Her black high heels clacked on the concrete platform.

She caught up with Hans and walked beside him.

“You promised to respect me,” she admonished him.

“I promised to respect your privacy; to gaze upon a beautiful woman and admire her is not disrespectful,” Hans grinned.

“By all means; admire away but please keep your comments to yourself,” Danielle snapped.

The guard checked their tickets and then he helped Danielle climb up into the carriage; Hans followed and led her down the companionway. The carriage was divided into nine, two-berth sleeping compartments fitted with cupboards and a washbasin in each. In day form, each compartment sat two passengers and at night the seat folded down for the first bed, and the second lowered from the wall panels above that seat to give a bunk arrangement. Each compartment was accessed by a sliding door with coloured leadlights fitted with privacy curtains; an attendant’s compartment was located at one end of the car and a smoking lounge and bar at the other.

Danielle was a little surprised at the opulence of the compartment that Hans led her to. It was decorated in Edwardian style with carved panelling, a pressed metal ceiling, frosted glass and lamp pendants, all ornately decorated; a row of bevelled mirrors was provided above the windows with an engraved swastika pattern. The seats were plush velour.

Hans took Danielle's suitcase and put in the overhead luggage rack, his own considerably larger case was taken away to the attendant’s compartment.

Danielle smoothed her skirt under her and took a seat.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked rummaging in her handbag.

“Nothing. Please allow me the privilege of paying for you Madame,” Hans tried to close her handbag.

They struggled a little and Danielle snatched the handbag and ripped it from his grasp; Hans’ hands fell into her lap, one of them resting on her thigh just below the hem of her skirt.

They both looked down at it.

“Sorry but you snatched your handbag away,” Hans whispered but didn’t move his hands.

Danielle gently moved his hands out of her lap and pushed them into his.

“Why don’t you just let me give you some money and then I can relax; I’m feeling quite tired,” Danielle returned her handbag to her lap and took out her purse.

She looked at Hans defiantly.

When he told how much her ticket was she was taken aback and nearly changed her mind about paying for it but she’d made too much of a fuss about paying for her own ticket so she had no choice but to hand over her share.

Hans noted Danielle's surprise when he told her how much the first class tickets cost.

“Madame, I feel like a cad; you obviously would not have travelled first class except for my insistence, please allow me to meet any other costs that arise during the course of your travels,” he pulled on the cord for the attendant who appeared almost immediately at the door.

Hans ordered a bottle of champagne and a serving of caviar.

“You are too generous; I feel a little guilty indulging in such opulence whilst most people are suffering austerity,” Danielle searched for her cigarettes in her handbag and Hans lit it for her.

“Madame, my family owns the Muller Steel Works and whilst the war does indeed mean austerity and hardship for some, for others it is an opportunity,” Hans pulled out the folding table in anticipation of their treats arriving.

“Who knows how things will turn out; the Allies have a foothold in Italy and we have lost the war in Russia,” Hans took a cigarette from a silver case and lit it with a gold lighter.

Danielle was surprised to hear such defeatist dialogue from an affluent German citizen who was profiteering from the war.

“The general public are treated like sheep by that viper Goebbels whilst that incestuous painter masquerading as a wolf will lead us all to doom,” he said bitterly.

“Shh! You will get us arrested,” Danielle tried to compose Hans; she pulled him down beside her.

“Hah! I could buy the whole train if I wanted! The only reason I was in that ticket line was because I wanted to rub up against the common people and see for myself what they are thinking but they are all brainwashed,” Hans crushed out his cigarette just as the champagne arrived.

“Forgive me, Madame, allow me to pour you a glass,” Hans dismissed the attendant and poured two glass of champagne.

“I will drink your wine because I am thirsty but you can keep your caviar; I will eat my sandwich thank you,” Danielle was a little disgusted with this man who profiteered from the war but was so damning of his country’s leadership and contemptuous of the people.

“You think me obtuse and insensitive but I am just a realist who lives for today because I think our future is doomed,” Hans topped off Danielle's drink.

Hans gorged himself on caviar whilst Danielle nibbled at her sandwich. She was tired after such a long day and after several glasses of wine she took off her jacket and kicked off her heels to make herself more comfortable and eventually fell asleep.

Hans had the attendant clear away and assisted him to put away the table and close the blinds. They were both quiet and careful not disturb Danielle who was slumbering. Hans settled down next to her on the edge of the single bench seat to give her room to stretch out as she languished in a deep sleep. He put two pillows under her head and she smiled in her slumber and Hans took the opportunity to scrutinise her. There was no doubting that she was beautiful but there was just something about her that wasn’t right.

During the days of the Weimar Republic, Berlin was a liberal city and although male to female transvestites went to great pains to insist on their heterosexuality it was a hotbed of sexual excess. There were even ‘transvestite certificates’ issued by the government allowing men to dress and present as women in public. Transvestite stage performances and musical shows were popular in dance halls, and some beer kellars were exclusively patronised by crossdressers of both genders and their admirers.

It was during this period of excesses, before the Nazi Party came to power, that a young Hans Muller became a frequent visitor to such establishments and an incessant partaker of their lascivious offerings.

As a young man he became enthralled with the gorgeous ‘women’ who frequented these establishments and had a series of torrid affairs with a succession of transvestite showgirls. He never thought of himself as homosexual; he circumspectly and insistently refused to see any of the girls as their male alter egos; to him they were only the women that they presented themselves to be.

When the Nazis came to power they began to round up ‘undesirables’, persons accused of 'asocial' or socially 'deviant' behaviour, and some of the transvestites and their admirers fled the country or took their activities underground but most simply ceased doing what they had been doing. Any establishment that was considered ‘an immoral place’ was either torn down or seized and re-purposed by the Nazis.

Hans had been with transvestites that were nearly as attractive as Danielle; they could easily pass as women but to the ardent admirer there were always ‘tells’ that set them apart, beside the obvious differences between their legs. In Danielle's case her voice was sultry, feminine but with a smoky rasp. He noted that Danielle had a long elegant neck but her larynx or ‘adam’s apple’ was quite prominent; but further exploration was required.

Her blouse was pulled tight against her chest as she slept; she either had very small breasts or none at all. Hans deftly slipped his hand inside her blouse and was not really surprised to find a padded bra. He hid not want to wake her so he withdrew his hand and looked at her pretty face and saw that she was in a very deep sleep.

Her skirt had ridden up and he could see the tops of her silk stockings, very decadent in this time of austerity. He couldn’t help but gently caress her thighs. He felt himself becoming hard and was tempted to relieve himself just watching this goddess lie supine on the bench seat but he was hoping that he would satisfy his urges with far better forms of gratification than just masturbation.

Reusing the surgical tape for her gaff was Danielle's downfall; Hans slowly lifted her skirt and was not at all shocked to find that Danielle had a penis and that as she slept it had become tumescent and sprung free of the confines of her gaff. Hans was well aware of the efforts transvestites went to, to hide their genitals.

Her erection pressed against the translucent fabric of her white satin panties and Hans could barely control himself. He slowly arose from the seat and locked the sliding doors to their compartment. He quickly undressed and lay down beside the recumbent gorgeous creature who was now his to play with.

Danielle was lying flat on her back, her head resting on the pillows with her hair framing her pretty face. Her arms were by her sides and her legs slightly open, her skirt rode high on her thighs and Hans had lifted the hem to expose the welts of her stockings and her tight white panties.

He slowly and softly traced the outline of her penis with his fingertips and was rewarded when a globule of translucent pre-ejaculate oozed through the gauzy fabric. He used his fingertip to scoop up the delicate nectar and put if on his tongue; his cock throbbed. The same fingertip began to softly knead the viscous fluid; gently circling her fraenulum. Danielle's cock pulsed and a smile formed on her lips.

He nearly fainted when she spoke softly and sleepily around that beatific smile.

“When did you know?” Danielle whispered.

“I wasn’t sure until we sat down together and I could study you closely; you are the most beautiful creature I have ever encountered and I’ve known many of your kind,” Hans’ finger continued to lightly stroke her erect penis.

“What are you goin to do about it?” Danielle got straight to the point.

“I have no love for the Nazi regime nor their repressive policies and laws. I do have a special love for the very unique and extraordinary women like yourself. You are obviously not who you purport to be; you are very adventurous presenting as you do in public, but very few would know what you are.”

“I’m guessing you are trying to get somewhere safe and I will not prevent you from doing so; nor will I press my advantage on you, but as you can see by my nakedness, I am hoping that you will be receptive to my advances.”

“I promise you that if you tell me to stop what I am doing I will immediately get dressed and cease attending to you,” Hans was still circling his fingertip on Danielle's glans.

“Ok then; stop,” Danielle whispered; her hand gripped his and held it still.

Hans was bitterly disappointed and it showed on his face.

Danielle smiled seductively.

“Do this instead,” she took his fingers and slid them along the shaft of her penis.

Hans needed no further encouragement and gripped Danielle's tumescent penis through her silky panties and began to stroke it. Danielle opened her lips invitingly and Hans lowered his face to hers. As he kissed Danielle, she found his flesh and began to reciprocate his conduct; softly stroking his hard cock as he stroked hers.

She allowed him to take off her blouse, her skirt and her brassiere, lifting herself up off the seat to assist him. His mouth fell to her tiny breasts and he suckled her hard nipples until she moaned. His slowly kissed his way down her flat belly, loitering briefly to lick her belly button, then continued down to the top of her panties where he stopped. He teased her; lapping at her sensitive skin but keeping his mouth away from her throbbing penis straining at the fabric of her panties.

Danielle pushed his head down to her crotch but he resisted until she begged him, then he engulfed her turgid penis still encased in her satin panties and suckled it. Danielle's feet drummed on the seat as she ejaculated. Hans swallowed her creamy issue as it welled through the sheer material.

Danielle bit down on her hand to stop herself crying out as Hans’ soft sensuous lips and slippery tongue worked her cock, draining every scintilla of her issue.

Hans smiled, and when he knew that she was sated he rolled over on top of her and kissed her as his turgid member pressed against hers.

“God that was wonderful,” Danielle smiled up at him, obligingly opening her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

She kissed him and raised herself up off the seat invitingly. She snaked a hand between their bodies and slipped his erect cock inside her panties and pressed his glans to her sphincter. Hans deliberately held back, making Danielle moan like a wanton slattern as she writhed beneath him trying to force him inside her. He slid just the tip of glans inside her and ever so slowly began to thrust the remainder of his cock into her anus. Despite her attempts to spear herself on his rod he made her wait as he slowly and agonisingly slipped himself inside her.

She kissed him passionately and squirmed beneath him, impatiently humping and gyrating, trying to force his full tumescence inside her. When she finally begged him, he thrust all of himself inside her. She was still erect herself and he felt her hard flesh poking him in the belly.

He fucked her as slowly as he had entered her, taking his time and bringing them both to the very peak of desire and then backing off. He drove her wild; their fervent kisses muffled the screams and moans of desire that would otherwise have reverberated through the carriage.

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Make me come, fill me with your hot come!” Danielle had never felt such licentious desire before.

Hans relented and began to fuck her hard and fast as Danielle bucked and wriggled under him, her legs locked around his body holding him close. She wanted to feel his flesh on her flesh, his lips on her lips, his tongue on her tongue; her fingernails raked his back as suddenly her body contorted and she went into a paroxysm as her orgasm exploded. Hans rode the almost fathomless climax with her and orgasmed himself; his cock throbbing and pulsing as he ejaculated deep in her anus pressing his glans on her prostate knowing the wonderful sensations it would produce.

They remained in each other’s arms kissing and stroking each other, slowly reigniting their passion and then they fucked again.

Hans ordered more champagne, taking the bottle from the attendant at the door so he couldn’t see inside the compartment. Which was just as well because Danielle lay languidly on her back improving her erection so that Hans could suckle it when he returned with the wine. In between their bouts of lustful romps, Hans told her of his youth and his experiences with transvestites in the fleshpots of old Berlin.

Danielle and Hans slept very little; Hans was bewildered that he had found such a gorgeous creature after all these years and Danielle was happy to be in the company of this mature man who appreciated her and kept her safe. She was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that she was indulging in decadent sex with no emotional attachment. After her love-hate relationship with Steven and her clinging devotion to Katerina it was a release having guilt free sex with a man she knew she would never see again.

The next morning she used the bathroom and came back to the compartment and changed into her brown suit. She wanted to blend into the crowd at Cologne station while she waited for her train to Lieg.

Hans tried to talk her into allowing him to accompany her but she was determined to complete her escape alone.

Danielle made it safely to Calais and except for the incident with Major Klaus Keppel at Brussels railway station her rail journey through the towns of Ghent, Ostend, Dunkirk, and Calais was incident free.

She spent a week in hiding in a Resistance safehouse in Calais waiting on the weather and tides before she made the crossing to Dover in a small fishing boat. The Resistance cell in Calais was all business; they were too busy committing acts of espionage, gathering intelligence and raising anti-Nazi sympathy to worry about getting personally involved with Danielle. They were perplexed that she didn’t want to discard her female persona now that she was once again free to present as a man; but when she told them that it was not her intent to do so they shrugged in their Gallic fashion and left her alone.

During her week in hiding she had considered her future; should she discard her identity and emerge as Daniel Collingwood or would she live her life as the woman that she had become? She had some idea what it would be like to live in the guise of a woman. Her parents would be devastated and probably disown her. Wherever she went if her secret was discovered she would likely be derided and ridiculed.

The moon rose late, illuminating the white cliffs of Dover, which bought tears to her eyes. A Royal Navy minesweeper on patrol duties found the small French fishing boat with the crew of two men and one female passenger. The men of the Resistance had the correct passwords to give to the naval officer who boarded the fishing boat in order to identify themselves and their mission and Danielle was transferred across to the navy vessel.

The sailors on the minesweeper did not believe that they had just embarked an escaped POW.

“Bollocks! She’s too good looking to be a bloke; and why would he stay dressed as a skirt now that he’s free?” Danielle overheard one rating say.

The captain of the vessel; a salty old Lieutenant had her bought to his small cabin.

“Corporal Daniel Collingwood, Royal Air Force. Well you don’t look like an Airforce corporal,” he poured a hefty slug of rum into a glass and handed it Danielle.

“I don’t use that name any more. I am not that person,” Danielle sipped the harsh liquor.

“I suppose offering you a haircut and a uniform would be a waste of time,” he said stiffly.

Danielle said nothing.

“Look. I lived in London during the Pansy craze of the thirties. I come from the lower deck and I’ve seen plenty of your kind both in London and in my travels overseas,” the Lieutenant went on.

“In Asia and the subcontinent your kind are tolerated; even admired and allowed to coexist in their society, but in Blighty you’ll be a pariah,” he sipped his rum.

“You’re a fairy and you’ll likely get called a lot worse. If I were you I’d go back to being a bloke, even if it’s just long enough for you to get out of the Airforce, then you can do what you bloody well like,” the old sea dog growled.

When Danielle refused he had her removed from his cabin and she spent the rest of the short voyage to Dover on the sweep deck. A kindly sailor bought her a mug of sweet tea.

Dockside she was met two MPs who directed Corporal Collingwood to change out the women’s clothing he was wearing and put on a uniform.

When she refused they were miffed; they’d never had to handle a situation like this before.

“Well fuck it! No skin off my nose if you want to turn up to the RAF base dressed like a tart,” the first MP seemed resigned.

“I’m not carting some bloke dressed as a woman across fucking England. If he won’t put on a uniform I’ll knock him unconscious and put it on him,” the second burly MP looked menacingly at Danielle.

“So you would have one of the few British prisoners of war ever to escape Germany and make it home turn up with a black eye and broken nose inflicted by the British Army would you? Because I’m going to fight you tooth and claw if you try,” Danielle replied.

“For fuck sake, she looks like a woman, she talks like a woman, she smells like a woman, she walks like a woman; you would think she was a woman if someone hadn’t told you otherwise. Why bother; let’s just get her err him to the debriefing and have done with it,” the MP said resignedly.

And that was how it was to be. The RAF intelligence unit wanted to debrief Corporal Daniel Collingwood and find out as much could about his escape and to gain valuable intelligence but Danielle refused to acquiesce to the order to give up her feminine persona. They threatened her, they cajoled her, and they told her they would use force if necessary but she still refused.

The RAF hierarchy was in a bind; they needed to keep Corporal Collingwood’s escape a secret so that the Germans wouldn’t get wind of the brilliant deception that Danielle had pulled off. They were not advocating that all the POWs dress as women to escape but the backstory and the route that she took could be used for more escape attempts.

They would somehow get world back to the Escape Committee in Stalag Luft Oberursel that Danielle had made it safely to England and of Flight Lieutenant Steven Boyd’s demise and his sacrifice. But they didn’t know what to do with Collingwood. They could hardly parade a pansy in front of the crowds could they?

After holding Danielle in solitary confinement at a secret RAF base near Dover they decided to release her on condition that she never tell anyone about her escape and her service in the RAF.

“If you think you can live the rest of your life as a fairy or a pansy or whatever you are; well bloody well have at it but leave the Royal Air Force out of it! Not a bloody word or I’ll lock you up myself. Do you understand Collingwood?” the Air Commodore said vehemently to her.

“Your parents have not been told of your escape and I fully expect that they will be delighted to know you’re alive but disgusted by your appearance. Here sign this!” the Air Commodore held out a document for Danielle to sign swearing her to secrecy for the rest of her life under pain of imprisonment.

Danielle held out her Vichy French identity card.

“I want this traded for a British passport in the name of Danielle Bouvier,” Danielle said through tight lips.

“I will not be bloody blackmailed!” the Air Commodore roared so loudly that the guard outside the hut cringed.

Danielle's mother was shocked when they met in a small teahouse in London; Danielle had forewarned her mother about her transition but her mother didn’t see any of Danny Collingwood in the woman who sat across from her.

“I can’t believe it’s you Danny,” her mother hugged Danielle and wept.

Danielle explained how she had made her escape and her transition from frail young man to elegant young woman. How she felt that she belonged in the world as a woman and could never again be a man. She told her mother nothing of her sexual exploits.

Her mother wept even more.

“I’ll never understand Danny; I never will, but at least you’re still alive,” she held Danielle's hand across the table.

“I can’t tell your father; he’d rather think you died in the war than this,” she waved her hand at Daneille’s presence.

Danielle squeezed her mother’s hand and looked her knowingly in the eyes. She produced a letter from her purse. The content of the letter from the RAF informed Mr and Mrs Collingwood that their son had gone missing after escaping from a German POW camp. His whereabouts were unknown but he was presumed dead.

Danielle's mother read it and nodded slowly.

“Probably for the best,” she said pragmatically putting the letter into her handbag.

“I don’t know how you are going to support yourself living like that but this will help for now,” her mother handed over an envelope stuffed full of cash.

“I still want to see you Danny; I still love my child,” she started weeping again,

Danielle tried to settle in London. She rented a small flat in Soho but it was impossible to keep her secret; there was always someone who became suspicious and because of the war people were generally inquisitive and distrustful of strangers.

With the help of her mother Danielle was able to purchase a small cottage in the tiny fishing village of Beer in Devon. The town had a small population and was off the main roads with few visitors; she thought it perfect.

She knew that eventually she would be found out and one day a constable came calling and she invited him in. She showed him a letter discharging her from the Royal Air Force and her passport.

“Well I suppose there is no crime then is there?” the policeman sniffed and cycled away.

Danielle had developed casual acquaintances with the few people in town who tolerated her but she kept to herself in her little cottage, going out once a week to get her groceries and other essentials. Her mother set up a bank account in the name of Danielle Bouvier for Danielle to access, which meant a trip into Taunton every month or so. Her mother would join her there or visit her at the cottage.

Danielle craved company but she was too sacred to even think about how she might strike up a relationship. She decided that she would remain a celibate spinster at least until after the war.

Then one day two years after she had moved into the cottage she was working in the garden when she saw a man walking down the road towards her house. He was leaning heavily on a walking stick and making a hard go of it, he obviously had a disability or had been severely injured. She watched mesmerised as the man came to her front gate.

She fell to her knees and wept as Steven Boyd opened the gate and hobbled towards her.

He picked her up and held her in his arms and kissed her.

The End



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