OMG
By Liverpool Kiss
The Epilogue


the bitch's story

The sensible thing to have done would have been to slam the door in her face
lock the windows and bar the doors and call the police, and have a restraining
order slapped on her. That is what I should have done, but I could imagine the
police arriving at the scene and finding a demure Orla who on the surface
appeared as vicious and nasty as Audrey Hepburn, the police would have been
charmed by her charismatic personality, she'd laugh deliciously at their inane
jokes and completely wind them around her finger. When they met me I didn't
think I would get a lot of sympathy. All of this flashed through my head as
she stood in the doorway looking at me.

"Surprised?" She asked

"V-very." I stammered. Surprised and shocked and not a little scared.

"Are you going to invite me in?" She asked."

"Of course ... s-sorry, you have me in a bit of a spin." I managed.

She swept into the room, I closed the door and followed her into the living
room, she wore a big dark blue well-tailored overcoat that fell to about
mid-calf and black leather boots, she undone her coat unwrapped her scarf and
handed them to me. She looked stunning in a black blouse that as usual was
unbutton tantalisingly low to allow a glimpse of her ample cleavage and a
black skirt that hemmed a couple of inches above her knee and black stockings,
her boots had four inch stiletto heels and she appeared a lot taller than when
I last saw her. Her hair was dark chestnut, a bit longer than when I last saw
her it covered her ears and the collar of her blouse, she wore a little make
up black eyeliner lit up her emerald green eyes and frosty pink lipstick.

"W-would you like a drink?" I said nervously.

"I'd love a glass of wine, I know it's only nine thirty, but it's seven in the
evening at home." She explained.

"G-go out to the balcony Orla, its quite pleasant out there this morning. I
said annoyed at myself for being so obviously nervous. I went into the kitchen
and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Blanc out of the fridge door and filled two
large glasses, thinking that a glass would steady my nerves.

"This is very nice, "Orla said

And it was, it was a rare sunny morning in January and out or the wind my
balcony was quite comfortable, it offered a view along the river as far as
Tower Bridge.

"It used to be a warehouse, all along the Southbank of the river was the where
the docks used to be St Katherine's is over there and this used to be known as
Surrey Docks. I was lucky, in 2008 when the world went bang a lot of these
places came on the market very reasonably priced." I explained but knew I was
waffling ... ... .."Why are you here?" I finally managed to ask.

Mistress Orla's story

When Lisa and I returned to Melbourne we were met by our demented team. They
had followed our adventures from the Travel Lodge in St. Kilda all the way to
Beijing and back, and had thoroughly enjoyed everything we had done. The
ultimate prize was the contract nearly 60 million dollars, but everyone wanted
to know if I really popped-a-bollock!

"Did you really bust his balls?" Bernie wanted to know. Lisa caught the whole
episode on her phone but the evidence wasn't obvious.

"Yes." I admitted," it was like squashing a grape."

"You are unbelievable." Bernie admitted with admiration.

"It wasn't easy, those little suckers are really quite tough to crack.

"What happened to him?" Chris one of the older women in the office wanted to
know. He was dumped at the International hospital there, not really sure what
the outcome was.

"No chance of it being related to us?" Bernie asked.

I shook my head, "no chance."

We had documented the trip well with video tapes and photos. Bernie was beside
herself she gave Lisa and I very generous bonuses, we spent nearly two
complete days giving her our complete report.

We were given the rest of the week off and then the following Monday we
started work on the job. At first in Melbourne but towards the end of the year
we moved to Bangkok and finally we set up out workshop office in Mukdahan,
where we were reunited with Pouna. She had been promoted to a Senior
Management role, she ran her department with an iron glove and tormented her
staff especially her male staff. No one made any mistakes if you worked for Ms
Pouna.

Jessica ran things in China with equal efficiency; she was also developing a
reputation of a bit of a ball buster, everything she was involved with was
done to the letter. By the end of the year we were ahead of our schedule and
the budget was still in the black. We had a break over the Christmas break, I
was going to go home but I went with Pouna back to her village and found how
she really lived.

Thailand is a very male dominated country, women as soon as they are old
enough go to bigger cities and sell sex and send the money home. This is a
fact of life. Pouna despite all of her power she wielded in Mukdahan was
simply a woman here, the daughter of a truck driver, she had no status in the
village at all and any attempt to impose any was met with laughter. I found
the attitude of the men oppressive and desperately wanted to impose a bit of
Female Domination into the men's lives.

It wouldn't happen in her village but it would happen.

the bitches story

She looked at me over the rim of her glass. I looked at her and tried to hold
her stare, but failed.

"Why do you think I'm here?" She asked. The sun was still out, but I felt a
chill run through me.

"Finish of what you started?"

"Possibly. How are things in that area?"

"A lot better than when I last saw you," I replied, my blood rising.

"I didn't know you were so ... .delicate."

"Delicate? You kicked the fuck out of me." I countered. A long silence
followed. "So why are you here?"

"Do you remember when we first met?"

"In Melbourne? Yes I was your boss on the project in Thailand. At least that
is how we started out."

"D'you remember showing the photos of your home and the life you had in
London."

"Of course, you said you'd like that one day. I remember it clearly."

"That's right, and you said 'you can have something like it. You're young with
the world in front of you' ... "It's not something like it I want. I want what
you have!" Orla said with menace. She drained her glass. "Get me another." She
demanded.

"Please Orla, don't start ... ."

"There are two ways we can do this. You can give it all to me ... .or I can
take it. If we go the route where I have to take it, I will take your other
testicle." She told me with a cold smile

"I think you had better go."

"Are you going to throw me out Larry? Remember the last time you tried to
fight me? No, I'm going nowhere. You are too old, too slow, and far too
delicate to start thinking you have my measure. If you try I will crush you."
She looked at me to gauge how I was going to respond. "Now go and get me
another glass of wine."

And I obeyed.

Mistress Orla's story

He was easy to find. He had made no attempt to hide and a simple phone call
from one of the girls in the office was all I needed to conform he was at the
address. He was.

I had spent a few nights after work drinking with Bernie, it was her idea that
I should go after him.

"I'd give almost anything to be a fly on the wall when he answers the door and
he see's you standing there."

"Strip him Orla, you have earned it; strip him of everything. Make him wish he
had never been born with balls. If you don't do it I will." I had laughed at
what she said but it was obvious that she wasn't joking.

"Why are you so determined to bring him down?" I asked playing devil's
advocate more than anything else.

"If you hadn't hurt the bitch so badly what were you going to do with him?"
Bernie wanted to know.

I shook my head, "I don't know. We had finished what we had set out to do, he
no longer played any major part. I know Mindiri was determined that he should
not play any further part. You should have seen what his engineers did to
him?'

"Female?"

"Yeah, two or three very nasty women, they made him tell them every minute
detail of the project, in the end he was an empty shell. Pouna might of
enjoyed having him....I don't know." I smiled at the thought.

"He got off easily Orla. You let him get away." Bernie said. It was if she was
scalding me. I shook my head. She was right I had some unfinished business.

the bitches story

The main reason I obeyed so easily was to allow me to think of some plan to
get her out of my life, once and for all. I had done a fairly good job in the
last few months of rebuilding my life. The scars of my time in Thailand, China
and Australia were still very raw; but with time the hurt, both physically and
mentally were fading and a fresh confidence was slowly building, but I had no
idea how brittle it was. When she appeared in the doorway just now I realised
how afraid of her I was, and how much work had been undone. Dope her drink!
Hit her over the head, all of which I knew I could never do. I would simply
tell her to fuck off tell her in no uncertain terms ... .but I wasn't sure I
could do that either.

I returned to the balcony, the sun had disappeared behind one of the few
clouds in the sky and the temperature dropped considerably. Orla was on my
lap-top.

"W-what are you doing?" I stammered.

"Putting a little plan in place," she told me without looking up from the
screen. As if reading my mind she explained. "If you should decide to somehow
physically over power me and throw me in the river, I have this little thing
in place that will implicate you. I have just down loaded all of your email
contacts and should you hit me over the head, or drug me, and should I not
contact my office on a regular basis my office will send these images and
videos of you doing what you do so well." She said with a very cod smile.
"Remember this?" She asked tapping a key

"Mmmmm I miss Paul's cock so long and thick ... .so unlike your tiny thing,
and here you are doing what you do so well a receptacle for Paul's sperm. You
really are quite good at sucking cock. I'm told it's a very lucrative market
men will pay a lot of money to have someone suck them off." She looked at me.
"You need a bit more practice, but I'm sure I can help." She sent everything
to Bernie. She picked up the glass I had refilled and watched as her words
penetrated

"Why Orla..why do you want to destroy me?" I asked close to tears.

"I'm a sadist, Larry, and I enjoy watching people, men squirm as I play with
them and slowly destroy them. I did an excellent job with Paul, but one is
never enough.

Are you going to take me back to Melbourne?" I asked, realising I was
accepting my fate without a fight

"What I do with you is none of your business. You will simply do as you are
told."

Her phone rang, "Hi ... yes he's here, we have just been enjoying a nice glass
of wine out on his, soon to be our veranda." She laughed. It has a lovely view
all the way down to Tower Bridge. I don't know if he was pleased to see me,
but I can tell that he's getting used to the idea ... .. You have the address
... . Ok I'll see you in a few minutes."

She ended the call and put the phone back on the table. "I think you are a bit
over dressed for what I require. Get undressed I want Pouna to know that
nothing has changed."

Mistress Orla's Story

After Christmas the job was rolling along extremely well, Mindiri and her
Managers drove the project along, any issues were quickly resolved, but
because of the meticulous preparation most issues were solved long before they
became problems. I was responsible for the budget, and we were flying along
way below our redline, Lisa who I owe everything to, was back after her
Christmas holiday and as I decided I was long overdue for a break, and with
the full support of Mindiri and Bernie I decided it was time I found out what
had happened to the slave. I told Pouna what I was planning and asked her if
she would like to come with me.

"To London? You want me to come with you to London?" She asked, unable to
believe her ears. "Are you going to bring him back?" She asked. I didn't know
what I would do with him until I saw him.

We flew into London on the second week of the New Year, it was a mild morning
but Pouna had never experienced such a cold day. We took the tube from
Heathrow to London Bridge and caught a taxi to the Hilton Hotel in the
Docklands. Our first day was a blur, both of us were super tired but we
couldn't sleep, excited for numerous reasons. After breakfast I walked to
where he lived, walked past the building. There was a security door but I
simply waited until someone came down and slipped in. I went right up to his
front door. That had been a dry run; there were things to put in place before
I knocked on his door.

Bernie had given me the all of the office resources to work with; we had in
Christina a wealth of knowledge re international law and accounting. She would
make sure that all of the papers he signed were the correct legal documents; I
didn't want my bitch sliding through any legal loop holes.

The bitch's story

It had taken Orla simply minutes to destroy the flimsy fa'ade I had erected
around myself. Since returning from Thailand I had gone through quite a torrid
time, no knew the exact circumstances behind my repatriation, no one ever
would, but I wasn't going to surrender this place without a fight. I went into
the flat and Orla followed me. My self-confidence was at an all-time low when
I returned. I never went out. My friends are few and far between, I have very
few friends in London any more, most of my best friends are scattered
throughout the world. I was married over twenty years ago now, it lasted five
or six years, but it dissolved, probably the best term to describe how my
marriage failed. It failed for many reasons, mainly my desire to travel to
faraway places with strange sounding names and earn money to buy things such
as the place I was now about to defend.

"Do you really expect me to just roll over Orla, and give you this place?" I
asked her looking her square in the face. I lost the contract to you; that's
business, not exactly scrupulous business, but shit happens. I have worked all
over the world, in some of the shittiest places, and this is my reward for
doing it. I was given nothing and after nearly thirty years in the
construction industry this is what I have to show for my effort and if you
think I am going to collapse under your intimidation, you are sadly mistaken."
I told her.

"I'll tell you once more. Get undressed and be on your knees ready to greet
Pouna, or I'll strip you and beat the shit out of you." She tersely replied.
"I will give you to the count of three."

"Orla ... please ... .don't ... .do this."

"One, you will address me as Mistress Orla."

I backed away into the lounge, she was out of range, and she had already
removed her boots, she was almost a foot shorter than me now but full of
menace, she looked me in the eye ... .

"Two."

I swung, I missed! I was always told if you want to win a fight. Start it. And
I had missed my chance. She had such quick reflexes.

"Three." I am going to make you so sorry for making me do this. You had a
chance to lay everything down. Now I am going to take everything, including
you manhood." She was so quick; like a cat, and I was so slow, like 'molasses
in winter.' She was on her toes and stalked me through the lounge, I backed
into the big lazy boy, and took my eyes off of her for a second and she
swiftly kicked me in the head, a high kick which flicked her skirt around her
waist revealing stocking tops and tiny black lace panties. The kick stunned me
rather than hurt me, but the second one hurt, a full kick to my groin that was
partially cushioned by the loose crotch of my Levi's, she attacked, I
defended. She backed me into the corner of the room. I attacked, a telegraphed
right hander, that she countered and I found myself flying across my living
room and crashed among the dining room chairs. The crash to the floor had
driven the air out of me and as I lay there stunned for a second or so Orla
struck, she leapt on top of me, pushing me on to my back, pinning my shoulders
under knees, and she bitch slapped me repeatedly; hard right and left handers
six ... .eight, ten, a dozen hard blows that stung and then really started to
hurt, she moved back and ripped open my shirt, she then pivoted on my stomach
and started to unfasten my belt, my arms were trapped under Orla's legs and I
made a weak attempt the buck her off, but was unable to stop her from undoing
the top of my jeans. I wore 501's and women always seemed to have trouble
undoing the button fly. Orla didn't she simply ripped the front of my jeans
apart, and her hand explored inside my underpants. I managed to get one arm
free, my right arm slid from under her, I reached for her and grabbed her by
the hair I yanked her back, she rolled back and swung her left elbow into the
side of my head, the fingers of her right hand were just about to wrap around
my last surviving ball and as I pulled her back she snatched in her fingers
her nails digging into my tender flesh.

Oh God not again ... please not again! I let go of her hair as I howled in
pain.

'AAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHPPPPPPPLLLLEEEEEEEAAAAAARRRLLLAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHPPPPPLL
LLLLLLEEAAAAAAABEGYOOORRRRRRRRRLLLLLLAAAAAAMMMMMIIISSSSSTTTTRRRREESSSSSSSSSOOO
OORRRRRRRRLLLAAAAAAGGGGG.

She got off of me and pulled off my clothes; my shirt, my jeans and my
underpants. She stood over me as I lay cowering before her.

"I am going to destroy you."

And then the door bell rang.

Mistress Orla's Story

The look on his face was quite priceless; the last person he expected on the
other side of the door when he opened it was me. He made no attempt to hide
his surprise or cover his nervousness. He wasn't nervous, he was terrified.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" I asked. He stammered an apology, and made
his first fatal mistake, once inside the door I was not leaving without him.
The walk from the hotel to his apartment was about ten minutes, and I was
quite warm when I got there, I removed my coat at sat out on the veranda and
enjoyed a glass of wine with him in preparation to doing what I had come there
to do. Strip him of everything. I told Pouna to wait about half an hour and if
she hadn't heard from me give me a call. We were in the middle of a
conversation about what I was going to do with him, when she rang. right on
cue. I told him to get ready to meet his Princess; she was going to expect him
naked and ready for her. He had a problem with this and like so many stupid
men he decided to settle it the only way they knew how, Fight me.

The fight, if that's what it was, last a few minutes simply because I wanted
it to. Once upon a time he might have been quite useful, but not anymore; he
was slow, predictable and quite useless, I had to laugh because he I thought
he would be our security while in China, he was big enough; big and useless. I
started to strip him, I get a kick out of that ripping away the veneer until
they are stripped of everything. His cock and balls had recovered from the
assault we gave him in China, his pubic hair had grown back, his flaccid penis
hung limp and useless over his soul remaining testicle, almost standing guard,
but not to attention. He squirmed under me desperate not to surrender his last
ball to me, he made a grab for my hair, but I elbowed him and then grabbed his
ball and squeezed.

The doorbell rang, I stood over his whimpering form, he cowered before me
begging.

"Kneel. Sit on your heels, hands right out in front of you, nose and chin
touching the carpet." I instructed. He obeyed I opened the door and the first
thing that Pouna saw when she entered the flat was the slave kneeling before
her.

She smiled, her face radiated amusement, she didn't smile enough, in fact I
rarely saw so much as a weak grin from her, but on that wintery morning she
brought her own sunshine.

"What do you say bitch?"

"Welcome to my home Princess Pouna." It said as I closed the door.

Pouna had been introduced to Female Domination about six months ago, and no
one, and I mean no one had adapted to the lifestyle better than her. If they
were giving out degrees in FemDom Pouna would have her Mistresses, She knew
more about the subject than I did and lived the lifestyle to the max. In the
last few weeks she had bought all sorts of toys and devices to tame and crush
the male. In her stocking feet she was less than five feet, 4'111/2" to be
precise and she weighed 98lbs, she was half the slaves' size and she terrified
him.

"Kiss my feet," she demanded and the slave automatically obeyed.

"Whenever I enter a room or a place where you are working you will drop to
your knees and kiss my feet and you will remain at my feet until I tell you to
do otherwise. Do you understand me.?"

"Y-yes Princess Pouna," the bitch replied, and he kissed her feet as she
removed her coat. She wore a simple turquoise sleeveless dress hemmed three or
four inches above the knee, black stockings and black high heels, that
elevated her to a towering 5' 2. Her hair is down to her shoulders these days,
she wears a little eyeliner and mascara to highlight her lovely almond eyes,
and a little frosty lippy.

The bitch grovelled at her feet sucking her dirty shoes as we discuss what I
would like to do.

The plan is to take everything he has and to do that I need to know a few
things and I'm not sure that the bitch is going to cooperate and that is where
Pouna will prise the answers from him ... .

I squatted beside it and yanked its head back.

"Where do you keep all of your important papers?" I asked casually.

'What do you mean?" it asked.

"Bank account details, mortgages, share portfolios, that sort of thing." I
clarified patiently.

"In the filing cabinet, in the bedroom" I was told.

The main bedroom was on the same floor as the main living area; I walked
through and found the filing cabinet in the walk in robe. I looked at the rows
of clothing that the slave meticulously hung in colour coordinated order, I
would get the slave to bag everything and I would call a charity to take
everything away. The filing cabinet was locked, but I his keys and it took a
couple of seconds to select the right one. The slave's filing cabinet was a
well arranged as his wardrobe and in just a few minutes I had selected exactly
what I wanted and returned to join Pouna.

*

They cuffed him and took him into the bathroom, where they made him stand
while they stripped down to their underwear. Orla looked quite stunning in a
black lace bra with matching bikini panties a suspender belt, and black
stockings, Pouna wore a white satin bra and turquoise panties under her black
tights The two women open a couple of jars of hair removal cream and started
to apply it to the bitches body. Orla started at its neck while Pouna started
at his feet and in a few minutes they had him completely covered in a pink
lather Pouna went into great detail, rubbing her fingers into the crack of his
arse and around his groin, cock and ball.

Orla then removed the rubber glove and continued going through his paperwork
as Pouna sat the slave in a plastic chair, and started to shave off his
goatee. The women worked in silence, Orla patiently taking every file from the
filing cabinet and sorting through the bitch's estate, while Pouna expertly
shaved its face and then with electric clippers she started to shave its head.

Mistress Orla's Story

We took the bitch into the bathroom where Pouna produced two tubs of hair
removal cream; some of this stuff is quite dangerous around a man's private
bits, so we made sure we put plenty on its cock and ball and Pouna even pushed
some up its arsehole. The bitch squirmed and writhed as the cream started to
work. It took us about ten minutes to cover its entire body, and when we were
both sure that we had covered every nook and cranny I left her to do the rest.

The flat was quite big by Australian standards, two floors on the Southbank of
the Thames on a bend in the river that allowed a sweeping view all the way
down to Tower Bridge. It would be worth a pretty penny. You entered through
the front door which opened into the main living room, on the right was a
formal dining area which led into a large modern kitchen. The view from the
kitchen window looked over Rotherhithe Road and the concrete jungle beyond,
but on the other side of the apartment a veranda ran the length of the
premises and offered sensational views, that gave the property its million
pound price tag. An open plan staircase ran up the right wall to first floor,
where the Master bedroom over looked the river; it had a walk-in-robe and a
large modern en-suite. There were two other bedrooms, one furnished as a guest
room the other was used as a storage room, both had modest views over
Rotherhithe and beyond, and there was another bathroom.

I had staked my claim on the Master Bedroom; I removed every piece of clothing
from the hangers and emptied all of the drawers into the center of the room.
When it is ready the bitch will bag everything and we will give his clothes to
the Sally Army.

In the top two drawers were what I was looking for the Deed of Purchase of the
apartment was in a file of its own very easy to find and easy to transfer. The
bitch also had a number of share portfolios and I spread them out over the bed
and started to strip the bitch of everything.

A slave has no rights to anything. Everything a slave owns is transferred to
its Owner.

Princess Pouna's Story

The slave would be mine. At home a ferang (foreigner) are seen as a status
symbol. If I was married to a ferang my status would rise, I would be seen as
a woman of means and money, if they saw he was my slave, I would be seen as a
strong woman, a woman to be feared, I wanted this more than money.

Orla left him with me in the bathroom, he was cuffed, a precaution, but I
didn't have any fear of him at all, on the contrary, he seemed scared of me.
His penis and balls were shriveled, for a big man he really didn't have much
to offer a woman. I teased him rubbing the cream into his cock pushing it
under his foreskin making him squirm.

I spent a couple of years in a salon cutting hair, giving pedicures, manicures
and massages, and I shaved many people, women as well as men, but nothing ever
gave me the satisfaction I received when I shaved off his beard. I then I took
the clippers and shaved his head. I used a Number One Cutter, it took just a
few minutes to remove all of his hair, but I wasn't finished I then took a cut
throat razor and I shaved his head to the skin., and for good measure I also
removed his eye brows! Then I made him get into the bath tub, he stood there
as I turned on the water and the cream was rinsed away with all of his body
hair. He stood under the jet of warm water and I wiped him down with a face
cloth, I wiped away every strand of hair on his body, I ran the cloth over his
cock and balls, between the fold of his skin, up his ass I wiped his arms,
under his arms, the hair just washed away, it was the same with his legs and
chest. In a couple of minutes he was completely hairless. I turned him around
in the bath and trained the water on to his back, and when I was convinced I
had every hair. I turned off the water and ordered him out of the tub and
wiped him down with a towel. He was now ready to remodel.

I had a CB 3000 penis restraint that I had modified a little, I had the inside
of the tube coated with coarse sand, an erection would rub his cock raw. I
coated his cock in oil and the tube slid over his limp penis I fitted two
rings around the back of his balls and snapped them shut. The original CB
comes with plastic pins; I replaced them with hardened stainless steel pins
that I had made in the workshop. The restraint would be impossible to remove.
I pushed the pin through the holes and I looked at him as I snapped the
padlock shut. "YOUR COCK IS MINE." I told him with a wicked smile and put the
two keys in my handbag.

Then I started work on his face. I gave him a little tanned foundation cream
that cover a few of his wrinkles, I painted in two thin eyebrows and then I
made up his eyes, mascara, eyeliner, shadow. He lay beneath me in silence, I
would like to have spoken to him but his voice would have ruined the effect. I
then painted his lips. His own mother would not have recognized him.

I removed his handcuffs and handed him a tiny pair of white lace panties that
he pulled on they barely covered the restrain , I would need to buy him a
bigger size, the mayching lace bra was his size I would fill him full of
female hormones in the next six months and fill out the cups. I handed him a
white lace garter belt that he fastened around his waist quicker than I ever
could, I gave him a packet with a pair of nylons and I watched him roll them
up his smooth legs. "You've done that before haven't you? You cross dressing
little faggot." He blushed. He had. I bought him a blue sleeveless dress the
same as mine, I described him to the sales girl and she selected something
that might come close, he stepped into it and wriggled himself into the
garment, I zipped him up. "OMG." It fit him like a glove. The finishing touch
was a long blonde wig that fell to his shoulders in lank golden strands, I put
it on him, combed it out, and he/she was finished. Sitting down she looked
almost normal when she stood up she looked like Herman Munster, but sitting
down ... I was very pleased with the result.

Orla was also very pleased with the results she had achieved. She had all the
paperwork she wanted and had all the forms sent through from the banks via her
network, all she needed was the bitch's signature and he would sign everything
over to her.

The phone rang while she was deep in concentration and she answered it without
thinking.

"Hello,"

"Hi is Larry there?" A man asked.

"He is but he's busy. Can I ask whose calling?" Orla replied

"Tell him it's John."

"I'm afraid he's busy at the moment John."

"Busy? He's never busy. What's he doing?"

"He's shaving." And at that moment Pouna brought him through the door. Orla
looked at him. "OH MY GOD!" She exclaimed.

"Larry hasn't shaved since he went to school. I don't think I'd recognise him
without the beard."

"I guarantee you won't recognise him."

"Who am I speaking to?" He asked.

"I'm Orla, a friend of Larry's, we met in Thailand."

Mistress Orla's Story

When Pouna brought the bitch into the bedroom I couldn't believe my eyes, the
transition was incredible, his height gave him away, but Pouna had made up his
face to make him look almost attractive, she had performed a miracle. I was on
the phone to one of numb nut's friends and an idea crept into my head.

"I'm Orla a friend of Larry's, we met in Thailand." I told him

"He never said he was expecting anyone."

"It's a surprise visit; he didn't know we were coming."

"I'd like to meet you. How long are you here for?"

"A couple of days, Larry is having a little going away party this afternoon
why don't you come over."

"Where's he going?"

"Back to Thailand, we have some issues with the project he was working on."

"Oh I thought he was sacked from that."

"He was. I sacked him, but there are some thing's he can help us with and he
has agreed to . "

"What time?"

"Come over whenever."

"I'll be there shortly." And he hung up.

I looked up at the bitch. "You are going to be busy," I told it

I couldn't believe what Pouna had done to it, and Pouna was quite pleased with
herself too. I lifted up its skirt and saw the tiny panties that he wore
hardly covered the restraint.

I looked up into its eyes, "before the end of this year I am going to take
your last ball, it will be slow and it will be very painful.' I told it.

We prepared for the arrival of John, we weren't sure what we were going to do
with him we'd cross that bridge when we got to it, Both Pouna and I were
looking for a bit of fun and if he wouldn't give it to us we were going to
take it!