Cheese, Chalk and Plenty of Pork – Part 07 of 10

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Cheese, Chalk and Plenty of Pork – Part 07 of 10
by Lin Dale

Synopsis: When Greta meets Gavin at her rich father’s second wedding, she immediately falls in love. But, just like cheese and chalk, he is a beautiful, slim young man and she is heavily obese; she needs to find some way to stop him wandering off. Her father’s new wife has problems facing up to her role as a Lady, so she decides to involve Gavin in a project with certain challenges.

Author’s Note: This story is complete and in ten parts which will be released at approximately daily intervals. It contains items such as crossdressing, non-explicit sex between adults and language typical of that between English adults. If you feel this may offend you, then please do not read.

Part 7 – Goodbye Gavin, Hello Michelle

Early Sunday morning, Greta took him out of the main house and back to the crofter’s cottage.

“Daddy never comes around here,” she said, “so this is where we’re going to keep you whilst we’re getting you ready for the scam.”

“But surely,” he’d said. “Your father will find it very strange that I briefly appeared for dinner last night and then totally disappeared.”

Greta shook her head. “I’m afraid he won’t even remember you, let alone notice you’re missing. No, better that he doesn’t see you again and maybe notice similarity to Michelle. Michelle should be over in a few minutes to start transforming you.”

Chelle was. “Firstly,” she said, “you need to take a shower and then we’ll put hair removal cream on your legs.”

“But I’ll be wearing a long skirt and boots,” Gavin protested. “No one’s going to see my bare legs.”

“Eventually, yes. But in the meantime, you have to take lessons at the stable. You need to look just like me at that stage, otherwise, at the hunt, the stable girls will recognise you, rather than me. And you need to understand that in order to behave like a woman, you have to feel like a woman. A woman cannot behave like a woman with hairy legs. And you’d better show me this munt that Greta’s been talking about.”

Gavin gave Greta a look of embarrassment that she should tell her.

“She has to know,” Greta said. “It will also give her reassurance that you aren’t going to do a runner say, just before the hunt.”

Reluctantly, Gavin slipped off the dressing gown he’d been wearing and stood naked before her.

“Hmm,” Chelle said, “that’s quite good, but it’s not the full works, is it?”

That was the very moment when Gavin’s phone rang. It was the landlord at the Fox and Hounds, wanting to know if he wanted to keep on his room for another day. When Gavin told him he did not, he was told he needed to clear the room as there was another guest arriving. He explained his plight to Greta, but Chelle leapt in

“I’m going to the village later. Tell him I’ll pop in and get your things.”

Barely had he conveyed the message to the landlord, when she added, “You don’t have a vagina.”

Gavin hurriedly disconnected the call. “Well of course I don’t have a vagina,” he said. “I haven’t got a hole in the appropriate place.”

“Well, actually…” Greta said, and then stopped.

“Actually, what?” Chelle asked.

“Actually, the company that makes the munt – a male cunt – also make a Y-gina – that’s a vagina for someone with a Y-chromosome – in other words, a male.”

“That’s impossible,” Gavin said.

“You’d better purchase one,” Chelle said. “We’ll see how it works.”

“But I’m only pretending to be a female horse rider,” Gavin protested. “I’m not going to have sex with a man.”

“It comes back to what I said earlier,” Chelle pointed out. “If you recognise that any man can leap on you at any time and stick his cock into you, it makes you behave differently.”

“Christ,” Gavin said, adding, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right,” Chelle said. “And whilst we’re about it, I think we need you to get used to your new name. From now on, Greta and I are going to refer to you as Michelle. In order to avoid confusion, Greta will call me the nickname you and most others use, Chelle. In front of Rupert, she will call me Lady Michelle, as he expects. Is that all clear?”

Greta and Gavin – now Michelle – both nodded.

“So, Michelle, into the shower then we’ll put on some hair remover.”


After he’d been dehaired, she made him stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom. Without any shame, she slipped out of her clothes until she was in bra and panties, and stood next to him.

“I guess you really aren’t too bad a match,” she agreed. “This might work. You’ll find a bra in that bag over there. Put it on.”

Greta helped him put it on and fastened it behind his back.

“We’ll need to get some decent silicone inserts,” Chelle said. “In the meantime, we can pad you out with rolled up tights. And we need to find some way of padding out your hips.”

“I’ve been looking on the internet,” Greta said. “There are padded panties made just for this kind of need.” She held out her phone so that Chelle and Michelle could see.

“They look good,” Chelle said, taking her phone from her and flicking the screen, “and look they have the equivalent in breast forms.”

“Isn’t this all over the top?” Michelle asked.

“Rubbish, it’s got to look good,” Chelle snapped.

“And we don’t want anything to slip when you’re galloping with the hunt,” Greta added.

Michelle groaned. He was in for a hard time, he realised, in all the worst ways, but not the pleasant.


Two days later, he had to admit that he now bore an uncanny resemblance to Chelle. The boob and hip garments gave him the figure, a wig the hair and Chelle had done a fantastic job on his makeup, adding a couple of silicone pads to his cheeks, the main discernible difference between them. He was still learning about applying makeup, having particular problems with the eyes. Both Greta and Chelle favoured him having permanent eye makeup but he obviously wasn’t keen on that.

But the worst indignity had been the previous evening as he and Greta were preparing for bed. They were both naked and Michelle was trying to get Greta in the mood to unlock him, when she said, “Your new Y-gina came today.”

“What?” A dread swept through him.

“You remember. It’s your more realistic replacement for your munt.”

“But everyone thinks this looks totally realistic, well until you come to feel it, of course.”

“Everyone?” Greta looked puzzled. “Surely, only Michelle and I have seen it and I don’t think she even felt it.”

“Well, I felt it,” Michelle said, trying not to appear guilty about his time with Clarissa, innocent though it was from his viewpoint. “And no one else is going to, so I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

“How do you know?”

“Know what?”

“How do you know that no one else is going to feel it. You know what Michelle is like. How do you think she got offered the role of Honorary Lady?”

“I presumed that your father had lined some pockets,” he said.

“Well, he’s obviously done that but most society women in the county would die for that role so I suspect that plenty of others would do the same. No, I would guess that she’s promised the Master of the Hunt a little rumpy-pumpy if she becomes Honorary Lady. You have to be prepared for that.”

“I’m not going to have sex with…”

“I meant you have to be prepared to deal with it,” Greta firmly said. “If you haven’t even got a vagina you’ll react differently. Lie on the bed and let’s take off the old and on with the new.”

“I’m really not certain about this,” he said.

“Well, I am,” Greta said. “Unless your cock goes back inside the Y-gina, don’t even think that it might ever emerge from that munt, today, tomorrow or next week. Tell me, how many weeks do you want to remain stubborn?”

When you have them by the balls, etc. Michelle got onto the bed and lay flat.

Greta swung her fat leg over his hips and straddled him, with her fat bum pointing at his face and her feet pinning his arms to the bed. He was totally helpless.

She fiddled with her phone, unlocked the munt, fiddled with it some more and then was removing the thing from around his balls for the first time in a week and a half.

“This one is not too dissimilar,” Greta said, slipping something else around his balls, “except it has to have your vagina inserted here.”

As she spoke, he felt something entering a place where, in the past, only shit had been ejected. “Stop! You can’t do that,” he protested.

“It’s necessary,” she said, “and yes I can.”

“Greta. Greta. Please, it feels uncomfortable.”

She lifted herself off him. “But it’s not painful, is it?”

He had to admit it was not.

“What do you think of it?”

He looked downwards. It looked just the same as the munt, but he knew that, as he slipped a finger along his slit and found the entrance to what undoubtedly felt like a vagina.

“It’s in the wrong place,” he protested.

“You’re obviously more an expert than me on the variety of vaginas,” Greta said, “but my understanding is there is a wide variability in them, including their placement.”

To be honest, he wasn’t certain about that, certainly not enough to argue about.

“But how am I going to have a shit?” he asked.

Greta’s face broke into a massive grin. “That’s the really clever bit. There’s simply a sheath up your back passage with a kind of a semi-rigid spine to keep it in place. When a penis goes up the vagina, it’s inside the sheath. But when there’s no penis in there, the nasty stuff pushes the sheath to one side and can come down. The only thing you have to do is to release a hidden catch which allows the entrance to fold back and you can then poo as normal. When you’ve finished, you shut the door and hey presto, you have a vagina again, all ready for action. Are you ready to try it out?”

“I don’t need to shit at the moment.”

“Firstly, gentle ladies, as you are meant to be, would never say shit. If they have to refer to it at all, they would say poo or something similar. Secondly, I wasn’t asking whether you wanted to try out that part of it. I was suggesting we try out the other.”

“I really don’t want a vibrator or anything like that going up, thank you very much.”

“I know,” Greta said. “They can be quite artificial, can’t they? Not to worry, though as I got this...” She turned her back on him as she bent over to a drawer, “I bought a strap-on thingy along with your Y-gina.” She turned to face him, something horrific protruding from her groin.

“Oh, my God! No! No! NO!”

But she’d grabbed his wrist, pinned him to the bed and was lifting her thigh across him.

“Greta. You can’t do this.”

“Oh darling, of course I can. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, or should that be the other way round? Because after I’ve had my way with you, we can unlock you and you can then do the same to me. How can you object to that?”

In this position, he surmised, he certainly didn’t have a leg to stand on, whereas Greta now had three.

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