Copyright Oggbashan October 2002

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

New Version - Revised after helpful criticism from Yahoo Unbirth Group Members. 24 October 2002

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I parked my van in the congested street and ran through the pouring rain clutching my tool box. It was early on Sunday morning when normally I'd have been sleeping off last night's party. As I pressed the doorbell I ruefully thought that I'd allowed myself to be seduced again by a winning smile. I was too easily persuaded to do odd jobs by any attractive woman who knew how to manipulate me. I am a useful amateur handyman and although it was only a hobby my skills were better than average. My friends got their wives to ask me to help if there was a maintenance task they needed another pair of hands for or didn't know how to tackle themselves. I knew that I wouldn't get anywhere with the wives but I still helped out in exchange for a free dinner or a couple of pints of beer. It would be the same with Gabrielle.

*****

We'd both been invited, with our partners, to my cousin Nicole's birthday party last night. Both of us came alone, because I was still hurting from being dumped by Sophie and because Gabrielle's new husband had been sent on a residential course at short notice. When I'd accepted I thought the party might cheer me up. Now I wasn't so sure because I didn't feel like starting a new relationship or even looking for a one night stand. My friends might be sympathetic which I couldn't face so soon after the ending of a long relationship. Nicole introduced me to Gabrielle probably because we were the only people who'd come alone.

All I knew about Gabrielle was that she'd recently married Jonathan. Although I'd known him at school we'd gone to different universities and had met infrequently over the last few years. We had friends in common yet neither Jonathan nor I would have said we were "friends". We were acquaintances. We knew each other, would say hello in the street and that was about it.

Yet Gabrielle and I spent most of that evening together. We both felt detached from the party because almost all those there were couples. Gabrielle felt it more than I did because she was new to the town. I knew almost everyone at the party. Jonathan had intended to introduce his new bride to his friends but now he was away on an unexpected Management course. She'd been pleased to talk to one of Jonathan's "old" friends even if I didn't know who Jonathan might describe as friends. I introduced her to everyone that I thought Jonathan might know.

Nicole's party was a change from the usual birthday party because she'd insisted that it should be "black tie". It was more like a dinner dance except there was no dinner, only a buffet and bar.

Gabrielle was wearing a full blown ball gown in shimmering midnight blue taffeta with detachable puff sleeves. Under the wide spreading skirt she had layers of net and taffeta petticoats which rustled as she moved and showed when she span. The dress had a modest neckline scooped a little way below her necklace. As she moved the dress colour changed as the light caught the material. The effect was very noticeable across her bustline as she breathed.

Just after we'd been introduced the small band started to play a slow waltz. That I could manage so I asked her to dance. While we danced together I enjoyed the sensation of her skirt and petticoats rustling against my legs. I commented on it.

"I feel as if we could be in Vienna dancing to Strauss. I like the way your dress moves in a waltz. And the deep blue contrasts well with your blonde hair. It's a shame that Jonathan's not here to appreciate how well you look."

"I'm sorry he's not here too." Gabrielle said "He enjoys this sort of party. So do I when I'm with him but I tend to prefer more informal affairs. If he was here I wouldn't have worn this dress because he likes to throw me around in energetic dances such as the tango and the salsa. I like that too, but not in such a large skirt. I'd need to wear something closely fitting and slinkier."

"I'd like to see you two in action. You move so well that I'm ashamed of my limited repertoire of dances. I'm better at imitating the moves from "Saturday Night Fever" than a fox-trot. I think you deserve to partner a better performer."

"You're doing fairly well. You haven't trodden on my feet once."

I laughed.

"I think that you have been saved only by the width of your skirt."

After that first dance we sat out most of the time and talked to each other. Although she was a good dancer who could help me in the slow dances the floor was too crowded for her to attempt to teach me something faster. I didn't mind. While we were together my friends were unlikely to ask questions about Sophie that I couldn't answer.

She asked me about what Jonathan had been like at school. She didn't know much about his life before they met at university. We both understood that talking about Jonathan was an excuse. We were alone and neither was looking for a relationship. If Gabrielle hadn't been such a new bride I would not have been so sure that she wasn't looking. If she gave me any signals I didn't notice them. I was just happy to spend the evening in pleasant company.

She and Jonathan had only recently moved back to our town. He'd got a transfer to a larger part of his company. They thought that he'd stand a better chance of promotion in a larger office. They had extended themselves to their financial limit and beyond to buy a large old terraced house close to the university. The idea was that they would do it up and finance the work by letting rooms to students. Their only mistake had been timing. The purchase had taken much longer than they'd intended and when they finally moved in the university year was well started. All the students had found accommodation and Gabrielle and Jonathan couldn't find enough tenants. They could have been in real financial trouble but Jonathan was unexpectedly promoted. That was why he was on the management course. Now they would be able to afford the mortgage repayments when Jonathan's new pay came through at the end of the month. Until then they were really broke.

Then they'd had a break. Gabrielle had been talking to one of her friends in their old town. That friend knew a student who was unhappy in her bedsit here, who wanted to share with some of her other student friends.

One thing had led to another and the first student, Deborah, had contacted Jonathan and Gabrielle. Deborah had found two of her friends who were willing to rent the top floor if they could find a fourth to share the cost.

I asked what the students were like. Gabrielle replied:

"Deborah is an organiser. She's doing business studies and is sponsored by her employer. When she qualifies they want to make her a Branch Manager. I think she'll make a good one. She organises people but does it in such a way that they are happy to work for her. That's an unusual talent at her age."

"What does she look like? I've met a Deborah recently."

"She's petite. She's dark haired, it's almost black. She comes up to here on me."

Gabrielle held her hand at breast level. Gabrielle is taller than I am, even without her high heels. I could just see over her shoulder when we were dancing but it wasn't easy.

"Then she's not the Deborah I met. That one was your height."

"If you'd met this Deborah you wouldn't forget her. She may be small but her personality makes an impact. You soon forget how small she really is."

The band started another waltz so we took to the floor again. This time Gabrielle led us, not me. I relaxed and let her. I enjoyed that waltz more than the first because her gentle direction gave me confidence as we swirled around. She made me feel a far better dancer than I am but even so I had to concentrate and we didn't talk while we were dancing.

When we sat down again Gabrielle continued her description of her new tenants.

"Amy is studying English. You would think that anyone studying English would talk a lot. She doesn't or maybe it is the overwhelming effect of Deb. When Deb's there the others seem so much quieter. Amy's about as tall as you are. She has thick shoulder length mouse coloured hair which flies about as she moves. She tosses it back constantly because it flops over her face. I'm sure that she'll change her hairstyle soon now she's away from home. Either she will for her own convenience or one of the others will persuade her. I hope she will change. Under all that hair she's got a nice shaped face and very attractive eyes."

"You notice a lot, Gabrielle." I said.

"I should. I used to work on a cosmetics counter when I was at university. The company sent me on courses to show women how to make the best use of their assets and how to tone down any shortcomings. The courses didn't just cover cosmetics, but hair care, diet and general body care. I'm grateful to my employers for doing so much for a part-timer. I think they'd hoped that I would work for them when I qualified."

"What did you study?"

"History. My thesis was on a specific demand of the "Levellers" during the English Civil War."

"That doesn't seem obviously compatible with cosmetics."

"They didn't mind. As far as the company was concerned any "good" degree in an academic subject might qualify me for management trainee status. It was my brain they wanted, not the subject I'd studied."

"So you didn't work for them. I presume you joined some other company?"

"No. I'm doing a Ph.D. and I'm a reader at the University. I lecture about twice a week."

I stood up and bowed to her.

"I didn't realise I was in such exalted company."

Gabrielle giggled.

"A reader isn't exactly a higher life form." she protested. "And the pay isn't much help to the family budget. I'd earn more working in a supermarket."

"What do you think of your student tenants' prospects?"

"I'm reasonably confident they'll make it. Deborah certainly will. Amy knows what she wants to do and has a real love of English. Cheryl - I'll talk about Cheryl in a minute or two.

It's the fourth one, Theresa, who has made the strongest impact on me after Deborah. She's known Deborah much longer than Amy or Cheryl have. I've been referring to her as "the fourth" but she seems familiar to me. I'd never met her until a few days ago but it seems as if I know her. I don't know why. It's just a feeling. She's a big girl, taller than me, heavily built and muscular. She should be. She's studying Physical Education and wants to teach it.

Theresa's better developed than I am, up here - " Gabrielle pointed to her breasts " - and although she's big, it's muscle not fat. She's not a "Jolly Hockey Sticks" type. If she takes part in a sport, I don't know yet whether she does, I'm sure she would be professional about it. She did far more than her fair share of the work when the girls moved in this afternoon. She treated heavy suitcases as if they were full of air. Even so there's just an impression that she's not at her best. Her skin seems greyer than it ought to be - "

"Your descriptions are far better than I could manage. Are you sure you are not reading too much into Theresa's skin condition? If she can throw heavy suitcases around like balloons she's not exactly unfit, is she?"

"No ..." Gabrielle paused "It's just something not quite right about her."

"Are you worried about having her as a tenant?"

"No! I like her. I like all of them. It's odd. I just think that Theresa is missing something. Of course! How stupid of me. How could I have forgotten? Theresa's mother died ten days ago. Her father left them about two years ago. She's no idea where he is. She's totally alone and doesn't seem to have any other relatives. That would explain why I feel that something is lacking. She hasn't got over her mother's death yet. Who could in only ten days?"

"That seems reasonable. You've made me feel sorry for her. It must be hard to start on a new stage of your life and lose your only parent at the same time. But let's change the subject for a while. How about visiting the buffet and bar? The crowd round them looks lighter now."

"Yes. That's a good idea, Keith. Let's go."

As we walked over the crowded floor I put my arm round Gabrielle's waist. It was a pleasant feeling. I was beginning to feel slightly jealous of Jonathan. I'd decided not to make any more compliments to Gabrielle. She was newly married and I was still hurting from my rejection by Sophie. Gabrielle was helping me get through the evening which could have been painful. As we were obviously together my friends didn't do more than acknowledge me as we passed. I preferred it that way. I didn't want commiseration. I wanted time to adjust and for the pain to lessen. Just talking to Gabrielle was making the party bearable.

We returned to our seats. I was curious about the last student, Cheryl. I had a good picture of the other three. It was a shame that I'd be unlikely to met Gabrielle's tenants. I would like to compare her descriptions with the real girls because Gabrielle's point of view might be very different from mine. Not that I was "interested" in any other sense. My break with Sophie was too recent. I was at the stage of swearing off women for life. Inside I could laugh at myself. I was spending the evening with an attractive and charming woman, yet I didn't want women. Gabrielle's real attraction for me at that moment was that she WASN'T available.

"What about Cheryl? You haven't described her. Has she got an unmentionable secret? You've made me curious."

Gabrielle laughed.

"There's nothing unmentionable about Cheryl. She's a very nice girl. She's not as quiet as Amy, hasn't got the impact of Deborah, nor the build of Theresa. She has short brown hair that is well cut and glossy. She is taller than you but not as tall as Theresa or me. She is slim with curves in the right places. If you met all four, Cheryl is the one you'd look at first."

"How do you know? I might like tall girls or petite ones like Deborah."

"My apologies. Most men would like to look at Cheryl. We haven't discussed what sort of women you like, have we?"

"No. At the moment I've gone off women. I exclude present company because you have been kind to me all evening."

"I see. Sophie hurt you that much?" Gabrielle looked really concerned for me.

"Yes. You have been successfully keeping me distracted from her." I said.

"OK. Then we'll forget Sophie and return to Cheryl. She is intelligent but so bubbly that many don't see that she has a brain. She's reading Classics. I wouldn't be surprised if she got a First. She's going to be a shock to some of my colleagues. She impressed the selectors at her interview and it wasn't just her short skirt. She has legs that many women would kill for. She knows it which is why she wears short skirts. I can imagine male students following her down the street with their tongues hanging out."

"I get the picture. Are you worried that your house is going to be besieged by hopeful swains?"

"I think it might be. And not just for Cheryl. All four girls are attractive in their own way. I'd like ..." Gabrielle stopped.

"What would you like?" I asked.

"I shouldn't, but I'd like to teach all of them how to improve their appearance. They all have potential but aren't making the best of what they've got. I ought to stay at a distance as their landlady and not become a substitute mother. Anyway I'm too young to be their mother. I'll probably have enough work to do as their landlady. Which reminds me. I've got to find a handyman tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

"One of the sash cords broke in a window in the girls' part of the house this afternoon, leaving it wide open. I covered the gap with polythene but it needs fixing soon. I don't know where to look for a handyman on a Sunday. Even if I find one, I'm not sure I could afford to pay him. It is still two weeks until Jonathan's pay rise is in the bank."

That is when I made my mistake. I was intrigued by the four students. I had been enjoying Gabrielle's company.

"Perhaps you haven't looked near enough." I said.

"What! What do you mean, Keith?"

"I can mend sash windows. I've done enough of them at my flat and at my parents' house."

"But I couldn't pay you!"

"Who said anything about payment? What would it cost anyway? A few metres of sash cord, half a dozen nails, which I've got lying around and then an hour or so of my time. A cup of coffee should cover it."

"You really mean it?"

I nodded. Then I was kissed.

"I think you would deserve more than a cup of coffee. How about Sunday lunch cooked by me? That seems a much fairer exchange. Is it a deal?" Gabrielle looked at me. She seemed desperate for me to accept.

"Yes. It's a deal. One repaired window for one Sunday lunch."

*****

That is how I came to be standing on her doorstep in the pouring rain early on a Sunday morning feeling used.

Then the door opened and it was a beautiful day. Gabrielle grabbed me, pulled me in through the door, hugged me and kissed me hard. I was so surprised that I had difficulty breathing through the kiss.

"Keith!" she said as she ended the kiss "Thank you for coming. I thought you wouldn't. After all we only met last night."

I recovered my breath which was not easy. Gabrielle still had her arms wrapped around me. Even at that time in the morning Gabrielle looked stunning. I was still shell-shocked from her greeting.

"Why wouldn't I come?" I asked "I promised a beautiful lady who is my friend's wife."

It had been hard to add the bit about "friend's wife". I needed to remind myself and her that we should keep our relationship at a distance. It was harder still because she was just wearing a satin wrap over her night-dress.

Gabrielle blushed and unclasped her arms.

"I'm sorry, Keith. I shouldn't have teased you like that. But you are a godsend. That window can't stay like that in this rain. I'm really grateful to you. Perhaps I overdid the welcome. How's this?"

She pecked me on the cheek, smiling at me.

"Much more suitable for a new wife." I said with a wink.

"I'll try to remember" she said taking my coat. "Which reminds me. You misled me last night." She looked at me almost as if she was accusing me. "Jonathan rang early this morning. He told me that although he knew who you were he wouldn't have described you as his friend, just as someone he knew. Is that true?"

"Yes, it's true. Jonathan and I barely know each other but we have mutual friends. I didn't say I was his "friend", I said I knew him at school."

Gabrielle smiled "You'll be glad to know that he went on to say that as far as he knew you were a very nice person. And he'd rang round most of his local friends yesterday afternoon trying to get someone to repair the window for me. None of them could or would. So now I think you are a real friend."

"Don't be too impetuous." I replied "I haven't mended that window yet and anyway we have a deal. One repaired window for one Sunday lunch."

"OK. But I still think you've behaving like a friend. I think I'll call you MY friend, the first I've made in a town new to me. How's that?"

She pecked me on the cheek again.

"Now to our "deal". Would you like some tea or coffee before you start?"

"I don't think so, Gabrielle, unless the girls aren't up yet."

"I'm not sure about all of them but the window is in their kitchen. At least one of them is up, the fourth, Theresa. I must stop calling her "the fourth". She came down to borrow some milk. She said that Amy, Cheryl and Deb were still in bed. I told you about them last night. Deborah is usually "Deb". She's the organiser of the group. She negotiated the agreement with us. I'll take you up. How long do you think it will take?"
"I don't know until I see the window. If it's one cord on the lower sash - perhaps half an hour. If it's the upper sash then an hour or two."

"Even in that case you'll be finished well before your lunch will be ready. Shall we go up?"

"OK Gabrielle."

As we climbed the stairs to the top landing. I was thinking hard about everything that had happened since Gabrielle opened the door. She seemed different from the woman I'd met last night. Although she was being very pleasant to me her voice was higher and shriller and her words tumbled out. I assumed she might be as affected as I was by an early morning after a late night. Perhaps finding out that I wasn't really Jonathan's "friend" had upset her? Gabrielle at the party had been an enjoyable companion. Gabrielle this morning had an edge to her that was unsettling. It didn't bother me that much. Mending a window and getting a meal out of it was a reasonable exchange. With some of my friends' wives I'd ended up with an earful of their husbands' shortcomings which made me glad to finish the task and get out of the house. Gabrielle and Jonathan hadn't been married long enough for there to be any real problems between them, surely?

Gabrielle knocked softly on the door and it opened. A head poked round the door.

"Hello, Theresa. This is Keith. He's come to mend the window."

"Hello. Come in. I'm not fully dressed yet. I hope you don't mind."

"See you later, Keith"

Gabrielle turned in a swirl of satin and went down the stairs. I thought she left me too soon. She might at least have shown me the broken window.

Theresa stood aside and let me in. She was a tall brunette, heavy breasted. She was wearing a royal blue floor length full skirted caftan over her white silk night-dress. It fell in a cone shape from her breasts. There were two long darts in the front of her caftan extending from just below her breasts and spreading wider until they were at least most of the width of the caftan at the hem. The darts had something edging them. Without staring too obviously at her I couldn't work out what the edging was. The white frills of her night-dress hem frothed out exuberantly from underneath. The whole effect was very attractive. I found myself watching the swirl as she walked.

"The others are still in bed" said Theresa "They are awake but I made them breakfast in bed. They were tired after moving in yesterday."

"And you weren't?" I asked.

Theresa smiled "I'm bigger than they are and I'm studying Physical Education, so I'm probably fitter as well."

She looked it. I wouldn't have wanted to upset her. She was obviously feminine but her arm muscles wouldn't have disgraced a bricklayer.

Theresa led me into the kitchen. My heart sank as soon as I saw the window. The upper sash was wide open and the window was above the sink. Not only would it be a long job, it would be difficult above that sink. Still perhaps Theresa might be able to help. Sash windows were much easier for two people to do. I was about to ask when she forestalled me.

"I'll help you fix the window." she said.

"Shall we get started?" I asked "Or do you want to change first?"

I didn't really want her to change. The flutter of her night-dress hem was too pleasant a sight.

"I'll manage like this" Theresa replied. She seemed distant as if her clothes were unimportant and something much more vital was on her mind. I didn't know the girl so I just assumed Sunday morning grumpiness. As long as she was helping that was enough for me.

So we started. I removed the beading, cut the cords of the lower sash. We removed that and the parting bead. The upper sash was awkward to remove because both cords had broken and it has fallen further than it would normally open and jammed. With the parting bead out we could just lever the upper sash towards us to remove it. All four sash cords were worn out, so we replaced the lot. I added a drop of oil to each pulley sheave just for luck.

Theresa and I had worked well together. I was beginning to change my mind about her. As the work progressed she became less grumpy. She spoke rarely but had a husky contralto that I found attractive. She was a great help and I thought that she might be able to mend the next sash cord unaided. She said that she'd never seen one mended before but she understood my explanations of how the window worked. Eventually we had finished. I hammered the last nail in the beading with a flourish. With Theresa's help the whole job had been quicker and easier. I was pleased that we had managed to complete the whole job quickly and properly. That window shouldn't give any problems for several years.

I was beginning to think that Theresa was pregnant. Several times we had brushed together. I was almost sure that I'd felt a baby kick me as her belly touched me. Still, it wasn't my problem. I was surprised. Surely Gabrielle would have mentioned that last night and would she and Jonathan want a pregnant tenant? Perhaps I was wrong and Theresa just had a swollen tummy.

"Would you like a cup of coffee now?" she asked.

"Yes, please. And thank you for your help. We've done a good job, haven't we?"

"I think so. Is it true you did this just as a friend? You're not getting paid?" Theresa seemed surprised.

"No I'm not, except for Sunday lunch. Jonathan is an old friend. I agreed to help my friend's wife. I'd never met Gabrielle until last night."

"Jonathan can't have been a great friend, surely. Otherwise you'd have met Gabrielle at their wedding, wouldn't you?"

"True" I said ruefully "I fell for a sob-story and a pleasant smile last night. But having agreed I wouldn't go back on a promise."

"Then Gabrielle won't mind if I say thank you as well" she said.

Before I knew what had happened I was in her arms and being kissed. Twice in one day I'd been overwhelmed. This time I had even less choice. Theresa had one arm round me and the other round my head. I felt the strength of her muscles holding me tight. Then I knew for certain that she was pregnant. I was being kicked mercilessly from inside her belly. I was kicked so much that she must be carrying twins at least.

When she released me she asked again "Coffee?"

"Yes" I managed to say.

I slumped on a kitchen stool as Theresa made the coffee. I was as weak as if I'd been on a long run. Theresa's kiss was that powerful.

She pushed the cup into my hand.

"I'll just go to see whether the others want any. Back soon. Drink up. I'll give you another when I get back. You look as if you need it."

I did. That coffee went down fast. It didn't seem to help. I felt weaker than before.

Theresa was soon back.

"Those lazy girls are still in bed. They say they'll be up soon."

I looked at the clock. It was 10.30am.

"Well, it is still early on a Sunday morning. If I hadn't promised Gabrielle, I'd probably be in bed as well."

Theresa refilled my cup. While I drank it she cleaned the area round the sink. Then she came back and stood behind me. She leant forward so that her breasts pressed against my back. The edging of the darts felt hard through my shirt. It was still puzzling me but Theresa's breasts were more important. The nipples were erect and far more interesting than a minor detail of her clothing. She whispered in my ear.

"Gabrielle won't have your lunch ready for hours yet. Why don't we get better acquainted? I'd like to say thank you properly."

I didn't know what was happening to me. Theresa seemed to be the most desirable woman in the world. She kissed me. Then her hand found mine. I followed her from the kitchen into the bathroom. There she turned to face me. Her belly seemed to be alive. She looked down.

"Yes, Keith. I'm pregnant. Yet that shouldn't stop us from enjoying each other, should it?"

Her belly shook as if it was being beaten mercilessly.

"No" I said "What do you suggest?"

"I like being kissed - all over" she said. "Come here."

She pulled me forwards against her large breasts and those erect nipples. I kissed her mouth and her neck as far as I could above the high neck of her caftan. She unbuttoned my shirt and pulled my arms out before she threw it across the room. I nibbled gently at her ear-lobe.

"I like it much lower than that," she smiled "Why not start at the basement and work up?"

She pushed me down, holding me away from her vibrating belly. I sank to the floor. She kicked off her slippers.

I started kissing her toes and feet. She writhed as I licked the soles of her feet. I couldn't resist the attraction of her skin.

"Higher, Keith, higher please."

I moved to her ankles and calves, lifting the hem of her caftan and night-dress. I couldn't lift the night-dress far because there were elastic straps attaching her ankles to the inside of the inner frill. I vaguely thought that unusual but I was far too intent on the smoothness of her skin. The straps didn't impede what I was doing because the night-dress was so full-skirted. As I kissed I felt her clothing shaking from the movement within her. This was irrelevant to the wonderful feelings rising inside me.

When I reached her knees she stopped me. Had she had second thoughts about what she was doing?

"I think there's a better way, Keith. Come into the shower cubicle."

At that point I would have followed Theresa anywhere she asked me to. We went into the shower cubicle. It had a strongly braced fold down seat that might have been for a disabled person's use.

"Keith, I want to say thank you, but I don't want you to go too far or too fast. Do you mind?"

She slid the wide sash from loops each side of her caftan. I hadn't noticed it hanging untied at her sides.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'd like to tie your hands with this, just in case you get too excited. Turn round please."

I'd have agreed to almost anything. She passed the sash round my waist, knotted it in the small of my back, crossed my wrists and tied them. Although I couldn't move my arms the sash felt sensuous against my skin.

"Now, I'd like you to kiss my breasts. But over my night-dress, not next to my skin. I'll just undo the front. OK?

I nodded. Having my hands tied was a small price to pay for reaching her breasts. I'd follow her lead and do it her way.

"Kneel down, then." she ordered.

She stood on the fold down seat, lifted the hem of her caftan and pulled it off before it followed my shirt. She held my shoulders at arms' length from her. I looked at her breasts then down her night-dress. Below the open vest shaped bodice it was tiered in large multiple frills spreading wider and wider. I thought that it could be a spectacular wedding dress if topped with a corset bodice. As it was, with her breasts exposed, she looked like the reincarnation of a snake-goddess from ancient Crete.

"Do you like it?" She shook her shoulders so that the night-dress shimmered around her.

"Yes." I breathed. Her night-dress had more effect on me than I'd have thought possible from any feminine article of dress.

"I shouldn't have worn it this morning, particularly for mending windows, but I wanted to see what effect it might have on you. It does have an effect, doesn't it?"

I nodded.

"Where were we? Oh yes. You'd started from my feet and worked up close to my knees. Would you like to start at my breasts or continue under my night-dress and come to my breasts later?"

She held her night-dress out and swirled it around.

"Look! Just layers of white silk over a naked body. Have you decided?"

I nodded again.

"I'd like to leave your lovely breasts until last, if you don't mind."

"Come on then. We'll take the feet as done already. You can start at my ankles. Down on your knees and start worshipping!"

I was on my knees as fast as I could manage. She dropped the lower frills over me and I began to kiss and lick her ankles. As I did she stroked my back with the silky folds of her night-dress.

Slowly I worked up her legs to her knees sliding deeper inside the layers of silk. She spread her knees apart so that I could go further. It was getting darker inside the silken frills as more and more layers separated me from outside.

When I licked and kissed the inside of her thighs I had to rely on what my lips could feel. I couldn't see her, just feel the texture of her skin.

Then I felt her hands grasp my head through the night-dress and tip my face upwards. She lowered herself on to me. My lips met hers. She was as smooth as if she'd never had any hair there. I was in bliss. All I wanted was to be closer, even closer to her.

Her lips moved aside. Her hands gripped tight and forced my face against her. Now I was being kicked violently from her belly above me. I tried to withdraw but her muscles were too much for me. Not just my lips but my nose and eyes were covered. I thought that she would suffocate me but I didn't care ...

My bliss was being spoilt, replaced by my body's desperate need for air. I was thrashing as best I could clamped between her legs and impeded that wonderful night-dress around me. Then I could breathe again. My face was still swamped by her. Her lips were spreading further around me than was humanly possible yet I could breathe! It was as if a diver had passed me an air-hose. With that air my panic passed. Whatever was happening I wasn't dying.

Was it just air? I was relaxing as if it was natural to be drawn inexorably deep into a woman's inside. I could ignore the frantic kicking which bruised my face. All I wanted was to get further inside Theresa. I felt her kick her ankles free from the straps and haul her night-dress high above me. My body felt the change as the air touched my skin.

Warm water started to trickle down the back of my head. The trickle became a flow as if a tap was being gradually turned on. It was splashing on the floor of the shower cubicle. Where was this water coming from?

I was vaguely aware of something odd. Sure, my face was covered by her warm pulsating flesh yet something was happening to the rest of my body. What? I tried to analyse the sensations I was receiving. I tried to think. It was hard to withdraw my mind from the ecstasy which was cradling me yet there was something wrong.

Then I realised that my legs and feet were wholly above the ground and the water was running off them. 'So what?' my emotions replied.

'That's impossible' my brain responded.

Yet it was happening. My body was shrinking. My arms flapped feebly between her imprisoning thighs. My legs were wholly withdrawn from my jeans and my feet were above my belt. My jeans fell to the ground. I vaguely heard the clatter as my tool-belt hit the floor. Even my head was smaller and further inside her.

My brain cried out against what it was sensing and then I knew no more. I'd fainted.

I wasn't unconscious for more than a few seconds. As I came to I felt my body sliding through a warm soft passage that gripped the whole of me. My clothes were gone. My face was still covered and my whole head was clamped inside her "lips". The air was still keeping me alive. I was blinded, deafened by her insistent pulse, and unable to move independently.

I emerged from the passage into a wider area. I seemed to be swimming underwater in a warm pool. My arms and legs were free to move within limits. I started to wave them about but they were caught and gently but firmly held by other arms. More hands stroked my body. I felt rather than heard the message to calm down and keep still.

I felt something brush against me then a sharp pain as it pushed deep into my navel piercing deep through the skin. Then whatever it was began to pulse strongly and become firmly attached to me. The "lips" engulfing my head loosened. As my mouth and nose were uncovered a warm liquid filled them yet I didn't drown. Somehow I was still breathing.

My eyes were uncovered and the "lips" slid away. I opened my eyes to see through a pink haze. Gradually my eyes adjusted and I could see that my arms and legs were held by three attractive and completely naked young women. One held a finger to her mouth suggesting silence. She moved her head until it touched mine.

"Can you hear me?" I heard inside my head.

I nodded.

"Don't try to speak. You can't. But you should be able to think at me. Can you?"

"What! What has happened?" I thought frantically.

"You are inside Theresa. So are we. She's unbirthed you."

"But how? Why? How could she?"

"How - we don't know. Why? - we're beginning to guess. Calm down."

Another head touched mine.

"Why didn't you notice our warnings? We kicked as hard as we could yet you walked into to her parlour as if you were hypnotised."

"Perhaps I was. Or drugged. Who are you?"

The first "voice" replied.

We're her flatmates. Amy, Cheryl and Deborah. I'm Deb. This" - she pointed at the girl whose head was also against mine - "Is Cheryl. Amy is holding you so that you don't hurt yourself."

I felt a forehead lean against the back of my head.

"Who are you? I'm Amy."

"I'm Keith." I replied. Then the impossibility of the situation dawned.

"I must be dreaming. This can't be true."

"You are NOT dreaming. This IS true." Deb seemed to shout inside my head.

"Sorry, Keith. You are caught just as we are. At least we were caught while we were asleep. You were wide awake when Theresa swallowed you." Cheryl sounded accusing.

"Not as wide awake as I should have been. I think she'd done something to my coffee. Did she make a drink for you three?"

"Oh ****!" said Deb "She gave us drinks last night. We went to sleep right after that, didn't we?"

I "heard" the others agree.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"There's not much we can do." said Deb "We've had a night to adjust. We are kept alive by umbilical cords in our navels. Without them we'd drown or suffocate. Even if we could persuade Theresa to give "birth" to us, we're less than baby sized. We wouldn't have much of a life if we remained this size outside Theresa. We have to persuade her to totally reverse the process - if she can."

"Can she?" I asked Deb.

"We don't know. We haven't had much chance to talk to her since we found out that we could. We'll try again. Keith - please be careful. Our lives depend on Theresa. If we are to get out we need her co-operation. Don't get mad at her. Let me do most of the talking. I've known Theresa longest."

Deb put her head in touch with the other girls' heads. She kept her head against mine so that I could hear as well.

"Amy, Cheryl. This conversation with Theresa could literally save our lives. Don't let Keith talk to her until I say so. I mean it."

Then she spoke to me.

"Keith. Please promise not to interrupt me. I don't want us fighting. I'm going to try to persuade Theresa that you are more use outside her than inside. If I can get you out then, perhaps, you might be able to get us out as well. I'll let Theresa explain what she is and what her needs are. We've found that she can only "hear" the one of us who has her head touching the wall of her womb. She can't hear anyone else even if their head is touching the one she is "talking" to. We can all hear her anywhere. She can't hear any of us unless a head is right against her. That's what she says. She might be lying. I don't think so. I think she's as frightened of this situation as we are. We want a solution that works for all of us, including her. OK? Will you promise not to "talk" to her until I let you?"

I promised reluctantly. I was trusting a lot to Deborah. However Amy and Cheryl seemed willing to let Deb have her way. They must know her better than I do. I relaxed. Amy and Cheryl held me tightly with our three heads touching the back of Deb's. In any other circumstances I would have found the position incredibly erotic. Two young, beautiful and naked girls were holding me pressed against the naked back of another. Yet I was scared. Even all that naked flesh didn't calm me - much.
"Theresa!" I heard Deb call.

The womb wall pressed in against us. Theresa's hand was against it. We could see the fingers through the womb's wall. We could even see a vague impression of the bedroom through a rose tinted fog.

"Can we talk, please?" Deb continued.

"Yes."

We all heard Theresa's reply. Unlike the "talking" head to head with the girls, Theresa's voice seemed to fill the whole of me.

"Can you tell us what you have done to us - " Deb paused " - and why?"

There was a long silence. Then we heard Theresa crying softly. Her reply was in a whisper yet we heard it clearly.

"I've unbirthed you. I had to. If I hadn't I would die soon."

There was another long silence. Amy pressed her hand over my mouth to remind me not to "speak".

Then Theresa spoke again.

"You deserve an explanation. After all, you are my friends and Keith seems to be a very nice person as well. How many men would come out on a wet Sunday morning just to redeem a promise he'd made at a party the night before? It's going to be a long story. I'm going to go through to the kitchen to make myself some real coffee. I'll need it to help me through. No one except my mother and father could talk to me about it. It'll be a strain to talk to you but you're not going anywhere, are you?"

We heard Theresa laugh. It wasn't a laugh of joy or triumph. It was the laugh of someone on the verge of hysteria, laughing so that she wouldn't break into uncontrollable tears.

She continued with a catch in her voice.

"Please wait just a few minutes while I make the coffee and make myself comfortable. Then I'll tell you everything - my life story and the curse of my existence. You'll wait till I'm ready?"

It was a plea.

"Yes, Theresa, we'll wait."

"Thank you, Deb."

We felt Theresa walk through the flat. It was quite a pleasant ride. We were cushioned by the fluid we swam in. I was still tightly held to Deb by Amy and Cheryl. The four of us were swayed around the womb. I can't describe the sensation accurately. Swimming in a calm tropical sea comes closest.

We heard the coffee as Theresa swallowed. We could hear many of her body noises around us. The loudest was her heartbeat. That rhythm was constantly with us. It pulsed into us through the umbilical cords attached to our navels. It was soothing, like waves gently breaking on a shore. Her other noises were more distant, muffled by the fluid.

We felt Theresa sit down. The pressure around us increased as the womb adjusted to her seated position. Then her hand touched her belly again. We swam to the wall and positioned ourselves carefully with only Deborah's head touching, our heads touching hers but not the wall.

"OK." we heard "I'm ready now. Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Theresa" said Deb.

"Here I go."

A pause.

"I suppose I'm a sort of vampire. Not the usual sort that has to drink blood or beware of garlic. It's a female thing. Only the women of our family have it, and only a few even then."

Theresa paused again. Deb gestured to us to keep quiet.

"We can eat and drink normally but something is missing from our diet. Without it, we die. It's that simple. We don't need the "something" until a couple of years after puberty. Then we HAVE to have it in increasing amounts until the menopause. After then we can survive without. We don't even need it during our periods. The rest of the time we MUST have it. There is a temporary patch and an alternative to the "something" but the alternative is even more drastic. Am I being too obscure?"

"No, Theresa" said Deb "Tell it in your own way."

"Thank you. I think I'm going mad, talking to my belly. I know that you four are in there but it still is unreal."

'Not as "unreal" as it is to us' I wanted to shout. I controlled the impulse. I knew that Deborah was playing it just right.

"My mother was one of us. Until a year ago she thought that I wasn't. When she realised I was she thought of killing me. My father stopped her. That must seem odd to you, Deb, because you know that my father left her two years ago. How could he stop her a year after he'd left? The answer is simple. He hadn't left. He was still there. But no one saw him. How?"

Theresa stopped again. We heard the coffee gurgling down.

"I'd better say it outright. What the "something" is that I need and that my mother needed. It is sperm. I need a man to deposit his sperm in my vagina. So far I think I need sperm once a week. Soon I'll need more sperm. Eventually I'll need sperm twice a day."

Theresa voice had changed. She spat out the word "sperm" as if it defiled her lips. Each repetition was emphasised more strongly. She hated the idea.

"The thing is that ... "

There was a long silence punctuated by sobs.

" ... I'm a virgin."

Theresa's body shook as she started to cry loudly.

We huddled together as the fluid washed us around.

Theresa stopped crying after a few minutes.

"Stupid, isn't it. I'm a virgin and yet if I don't get sperm inside me I'll die. You might ask why I'm still a virgin. No. Don't bother to ask. I'll tell you.

My father was ill when I was about ten years old. I don't know what illness it was but the effect was that he became impotent. My parents tried everything. Nothing worked. My mother was frantic. If she didn't get laid daily she'd die. She seduced so many friends' husbands that she didn't have many friends left. She needed a virile lover - every day. She couldn't find one. She was losing her looks because she was worried that she'd leave me motherless.

Eventually she went out on the streets as a prostitute. Even then most men wanted to wear protection. That was no good for her. She needed unprotected sex daily. She knew that she was running a risk of catching something unpleasant or even AIDS. My father stopped her but too late. She already had survived several infections and her body chemistry was failing. She wasn't getting enough sperm even when she paid for it.

My father reminded her of the alternative. She was horrified but he insisted. Before I tell you what they did I'll give you some idea of what her relentless quest did to me.

I was reaching puberty at the age of ten. In the next few years my mother was screwing any man she could get her claws into. It wasn't a good example for a growing daughter. I don't blame her. I just know what it did to me. I hated men. I hated myself. I hated my mother for what she'd become. I didn't want that to happen to me.

She didn't tell me what our "curse" was. She hoped that I wouldn't have it. If I never developed it then she wouldn't have to tell me. She didn't think further than that. She intended to tell me when I started dating because the "curse" can skip a generation or even two before it is out of the female line. I didn't understand why my mother was chasing men. I thought she didn't love me and she didn't love my father.

Then disaster struck two years ago. I had "it". My mother was not well. Father was impotent. If he hadn't been he might have cured her. The temporary patch couldn't be used unless my mother was fighting fit. There were no relatives in this country who could help. There was no solution to their problem. My mother would die and so would I. I could have been sent out to find enough men to keep me alive but ... they didn't want to do that to me.

Father solved it. The alternative is to unbirth someone. If mother could unbirth someone then the essences she absorbed would heal her, make her fit enough to provide the temporary patch, and might even last long enough for her to reach the menopause. She wasn't strong enough to unbirth anyone who had any resistance at all. Unlike me, she couldn't overcome even a sleeping person.

Now you know how my father could be there and yet not be there. You are in the same position as he was. My mother unbirthed him with his willing consent."

Theresa stopped.

"What is the temporary patch?" Deb asked.

"Oh that. For a few months, if you have the "curse" and are fit enough, you can keep another sufferer going by breastfeeding her daily. My mother did that for me but she could only because my father had sacrificed himself for both of us."

"Your mother died ten days ago, didn't she?"

"Yes, Deb, she did. She never made it to the menopause. I didn't know until the last few days just how much feeding me was doing to her. My father's gift would have lasted, but not to feed me as well. When I knew what they had done I used to talk to him as I am talking to you. He allowed himself to be fully absorbed by her a few months ago. He hoped that she'd survive, but, as he told me, he'd rather go that way than die inside her dead body. He wanted to go with her as a part of her. She rallied after he went but I think he took her heart with him. After she'd lost him she wanted to go too."

"I'm sorry, Theresa."

"Thank you, Deb. When she'd gone I felt very alone in the world. I couldn't tell anyone what I was. I had no contact with any of my relatives. I was wretched. I was ill as well but I didn't know. I looked fit enough but the "curse" was eating away inside me. Last night ..."

"What about last night?"

"Last night I was insane. I was insane with grief, insane with the knowledge that I needed a man's sperm inside me, insane because I couldn't face that idea. I hoped that I could find someone to unbirth. One person would keep me going for months, perhaps even a year. My mother had given me clear instructions on what to do if ever I needed to unbirth. She even gave me the drugs to use in your drinks. You all seemed so happy last night that I wanted to hug you all. Yet I was unhappy and dying. My insanity came up with the solution. I could hug you all permanently. Three healthy girls would keep my alive for years. Beyond that I didn't think. I couldn't. It wasn't me. It was the "curse" inside me. If I could undo it and live ..."

"Could you undo it?" Deb asked quietly.

"I think so. My mother said that it is possible. She wanted to do it to father if ever she got fit enough to do without him. I think that it gets more difficult after a long time. She couldn't have given rebirth to him before she died. She wouldn't have had the strength."

"How much strength do you need?"

"It's not as bad as an ordinary birth. You are smaller than real babies. What my system has done is remove almost all the water from your bodies. The effort comes from rehydrating and regenerating your full size bodies again. That isn't supposed to be painful, just very tiring."

"So you could rebirth one of us? You don't need all of us."

"I suppose so. However there are real problems. How do I account for four missing people? If one came back would that one keep quiet? I don't even know what I'm going to do when Gabrielle comes up to call Keith for lunch. Now that the effect of the "curse" has gone I'm rational. I can't see how I can escape punishment for what I have done to you."

"I can" said Deborah.

"You can?"

"Yes. Now you'll have to listen carefully to me. We want to be out of your womb. We want to live. So do you. We want you to live too. There is a way that it can be done. It needs all of us to work together. First a question. Why didn't you seduce Keith so that he gave you his sperm? Why did you unbirth him?"

"I knew he'd noticed that I was pregnant. You three girls were kicking me hard enough. I thought that he might not like making love to a pregnant woman."

Amy's hand gripped my mouth tightly. I stroked her arm to show that I'd understood the need for my silence. Cheryl hugged tighter to me.

"Apart from my irrational fear of being penetrated by a man, I was thinking of you three, Deb."

"You were thinking of us? What about us?"

"I thought that if I flooded my womb with Keith's ..." she stopped obviously choosing her word carefully " ... output then although my immediate need would be met, you might pay the cost. I might have a belly full of pregnant ladies. I didn't know what that would do to you or to me."

Deborah suppressed a laugh.

"Theresa! We're not virgins. We were never in danger from Keith's 'output'. We are all protected from such things."

"I didn't know that. This morning gradually I came back to sanity. I was frantic about what I'd done to you three girls. I wanted to reverse the process but then I'd die. I wasn't sure I'd have enough strength to do it anyway. But you are my friends. Keith wasn't. I thought that if I unbirthed Keith then I could restore you three girls and keep him. You'd be OK and I'd still be alive. But now I'm not so sure. I liked Keith too. I didn't want to restore you with his output and then find all of you pregnant and it was my fault. When I took Keith into the bedroom I still wasn't sure what to do. When he started kissing my feet I liked it so much I wanted him to carry on upwards. I stopped him and offered him my breasts. If he'd chosen them - but he didn't. Once he was under my night-dress again the need to unbirth overwhelmed me. Once his lips were on my thighs I couldn't stop myself. I wanted all of him. It was different with you girls. I needed you to save my life. I didn't want you inside me. I wanted to engulf Keith even if I was to let him out later. Perhaps, since you are not virgins, you understand what I mean better than I do."

"I think we might, Theresa. I've often wanted to take all of a man inside me. The difference is that you can. We can't."

"Thank you, Deb. So how do you think we can get out - sorry how can I get you out, save my life, and avoid the consequences of my actions? That's more important now than telling a virgin about sex with a man."

"OK. This is my idea. You rebirth Keith. When he's out you two make love. That gives you your weekly fix of his 'output'. We three aren't in any risk of getting pregnant. You should then be free of the 'curse' and able to rebirth Amy, Cheryl and me. If that takes a lot out of you, Keith should be able to make love to you again later today. If you rebirth Keith soon, he should be around to have lunch with Gabrielle - therefore no need for any awkward explanation about his absence. He can come back later today just in case you need him. Then all five of us can sort out how your needs can be met until you meet someone that you like enough to make love to frequently. How does that sound?"

While Deb was speaking Amy's hand was gagging me hard. Cheryl was stroking my back. When Deb stopped Cheryl pulled my head away from Deb and cradled it between her breasts.

"That sounds possible. But I've only heard you, Deb. Will Keith agree? What do Amy and Cheryl think? Will you all keep my secret?"

Deb signalled for Amy to "talk". Deb pressed her head against mine, away from the womb wall.

"Theresa, this is Amy. I agree with Deb. I'll go along with what she has suggested."

Meanwhile Deb was "talking" quickly to me.

"Keith! Will you do it? Our lives depend on you."

"Yes Deb. I'll do it. Even without her 'curse' and her need, I find Theresa attractive. Given time I think I could even get to love her. And I'd like another chance at her breasts."

"Tell her. Now!"

Meanwhile Cheryl had "spoken" to Theresa, agreeing with Deb.

Deb pushed my head against the side of the womb.

"Theresa. This is Keith. I'll do it. If it will help you I'll do whatever I can."

There was a long silence from Theresa. We all waited anxiously with our heads pressed together.

"OK. It seems that it is the only way to save all of us. I'm scared stiff but it's worth trying."

Theresa paused.

"I have to have a water supply so I'll have to use the shower room. Wait while I go there."

We sloshed around as she went and reoriented ourselves as she leant back on the shower seat.

"I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I hope this works."

So did we.

"Keith! Can you move towards my hips and put your feet down as close to the entrance as possible?"

"Yes, Theresa."

"I'll extend my pseudopod - I think that is what it is called - to cover your head so you can breathe while I regenerate you. Can you girls make sure it fits on the right head, please?"

"Yes." they chorused.

I swam and was pushed down into the girdle of her hips. The pseudopod waved towards me. Deb positioned it over my mouth and nose. It sucked at me and slowly slid over my whole head. As before I could breathe freely. Once it was attached the umbilical cord pulled out of my navel. By that time I could feel my legs entering Theresa's birth canal. I sank slowly in to a warm firm hold. The three girls released me as my chest and shoulders entered the canal.

This time I was conscious the whole time. I was massaged by rhythmic pulsations as I was pushed down and through. I felt my tiny legs emerge. Then all of me followed in a rush. I was lying between her legs, inside her night-dress, with my head still hooded by her pseudopod.

Theresa hauled the night-dress up. I heard her adjusting the shower head until the water was the right temperature. Then I felt the hard end of the hose as she pushed it alongside my head into an opening of the pseudopod. The flow of water deafened me.

I began to grow larger and larger. It was weird. My legs extended further and further until my feet reached beyond the hers to the floor. My body and head were swelling.

Theresa adjusted her position. Her hands pushed down on my shoulders so that I slid down between her legs. I was still gagged, deafened and blindfolded inside her pulsing tentacle.

At last I seemed to be back to normal size. The water stopped flowing as Theresa turned the shower off. She leant back and the night-dress tiers slid down my body as it fell from her hands. I was lying between her legs, my hooded head between her knees. The hood gradually retracted from around my head. Finally it uncovered my mouth and nose. I gasped for breath but her damp night-dress billowed into my mouth. I fought the silk away and could breathe again.

I slid out from under her frills, down and landed painfully on my tool belt. From my legs entering her birth canal to that painful impact had taken at least twenty minutes.

I struggled to my knees, kicked my sodden jeans and belt out of the way and turned to face Theresa. She was lying back against the cubicle wall. Her face showed the strain she'd just gone through. To me she seemed the most desirable woman in the world. I quickly moved to squat beside her and flung my arms around her. I kissed her gently on her sweat-streaked cheek. She leant her head against mine.

"I must look revolting." she said.

"You look wonderful for a new mother." I said. "And what about me? I'm plastered in your juices from head to foot."

Theresa looked carefully at me.

"So you are. At least you are not bloody."

I wasn't. There was a streak of blood from my navel but the liquid coating me was clear. I might have been an oiled wrestler.

"I don't think I'm ready yet for love-making." she said with reluctance.

"I think it might be better if we had a shower first. Like this I'm far too slippery."

"A shower would be nice. But am I strong enough yet?" she asked.

"I'll help you. Come on."

I pulled her back to a sitting position and then stood her up. She swayed before leaning against me. I tested the shower's temperature. I put her hand in the stream.

"That OK?" I asked.

"Yes. I need to strip. Can you help me?"

I took her night-dress off over her head but an arm caught in one of the ankle straps.

"Why do you have ankle straps on your night-dress?" I asked. It was an idle question. We were both embarrassed by our dependence on each other. However she answered clearly.

"You know about my 'pseudopod'. Now my flatmates do as well. When I get sexually excited it tends to protrude from me, not very far, but enough to show. The ankle straps keep my night-dress hem down even if I wriggle in bed. That way my difference is hidden even when I'm asleep. I don't suppose I'll need ankle straps any longer."
I turned the shower on her. We soaped each other and rinsed. I tried "talking" to the girls in Theresa's belly. I could hear them. Their message was clear - "Get on with it and get us out of here!" Theresa heard them too. She blushed all over.

We dried each other and walked back to her bedroom hand in hand.

We sat down on her bed. She turned to me.

"I want to do this, but I still have a problem with my past. I saw my mother writhing under so many men. I can't face being under you. Would you mind if I were on top?"

"Of course not. I will do whatever you want and however you want to do it."

"Please lie back on the bed."

I did. She straddled me. She lowered her breasts on to my chest. Their touch stimulated an instant erection from me. They were and are outstanding. I kissed her and stroked her. Then she seemed to change completely. The shy girl vanished as if she'd never been. She reared up winding her legs around me convulsively. I penetrated her deeper than I'd ever been with any normal woman. My erection was gone in a shattering climax. From her first touch to my emission had been barely a minute. I hoped she wouldn't be disappointed. I looked carefully at her face. A look of wonder spread across it. Then a glow spread all over her naked body. It shone as if she'd been pampered for hours by a beautician.

"Wow!" she said "That may have been quick but what is happening now is fantastic. I can feel you everywhere. It's like being happily drunk but instantly. I feel alive as if I've never been alive before. I can do anything - anything. I want to rebirth the others NOW! This instant! I don't need them inside me."

"Are you sure? Can you do it?"

"Yes! Yes! Now I can do it. You were hard work. After this they won't be."

"OK. Are you ready?"

"Yes. No! Wait! I've just remembered some things that my mother told me about giving birth to re-birthed women. Let me think for a minute."

That worried me. I wanted the girls out as soon as possible. I was sure that Theresa did too. What could the problem be - I'd emerged OK, why couldn't the girls?

"I've remembered at least one of them now." said Theresa "When someone is born after a rebirth their skin is changed. Any imperfections disappear. Have you noticed anything different, Keith?"

I looked at my skin. It looked perfectly good and then I realised what was missing. I had a faint scar on the back of my left hand from a motor-cycle accident. That was gone without a trace. I walked over to the mirror. The scarring on my knees had gone as well and then I looked at my upper arm. The tattoo had gone as well.

"Well!" I exclaimed "That is certainly true. I had a motor-cycle accident years ago. There were faint scars left on my knees and the back of my left hand. They are gone. So has the tattoo I had done."

"Then perhaps the other things my mother told me could be true as well. She only ever re-birthed my father and he never came out again so what she told me was from her mother or even her grandmother. I thought they were a bit difficult to believe, but so is the "curse". Apparently, apart from healing the skin the process of regeneration has more effect on females than on males. A female's skin is not just repaired, it is improved. They come out looking absolutely perfect and look irresistible to men. That's bad enough but they are also supposed to come out feeling like bitches on heat and will grab any male nearby. The on-heat feeling only lasts a couple of minutes. The skin lasts forever."

"Wow! So Amy, Cheryl and Deb will emerge like Aphrodite from the sea-foam and randy as hell! That I'd like to see."

"Keith! Think of the effect on them!"

"Sorry Theresa. I was thinking with my balls not my brain. I've never met them except in your belly. In the abstract the idea of a succession of absolutely perfect women uncontrollably throwing themselves at me is the stuff of fantasy. In reality it would be very embarrassing for them and for me."

"That's better. They are my friends. I have humiliated them enough without putting them through any more. We'll have to take precautions. I think it is better that you are the target of their brief madness. We don't want them rushing naked into the street to assault any male passing. You need protection from them; they need protection from you. How?"

I had no idea.

"My caftan! That would do." Theresa exclaimed.

"Your caftan? How would that help?"

"If you are inside it and they can't get at your - you know what - then they should have time to get over the madness while they are trying to get at you."

"But how? Your caftan is wide-skirted. Surely they would get at me very easily?"

"The caftan was sold as a dual-purpose garment. It has zips running down the front from the bustline. With the zips open I can wear it over anything, no matter how full-skirted. With them closed it is supposed to be a slim house-coat. Actually it doesn't work too well like that. It is so slim that I can't walk in it and when it is zipped up the hem trails on the ground."

"So you want me to be in your zipped-up caftan when the girls come out?"

"I'll have to do more to you than that. They could unzip it and get at you. You'll have to be really difficult to get at."

I sighed "OK Theresa. Do whatever you have to."

"Thank you for your trust in me, Keith. Come on. Back to the bathroom. I'll follow you."

As I went through the bedroom door she went to her chest of drawers and pulled some items out. I waited in the bathroom and was puzzled to hear her clattering some items in the kitchen. I picked up her caftan while I waited. I could see the zips clearly now that I'd been told about them.

"Right, Keith. Please put your hands behind your back with your wrists crossed."

I did. She wrapped a stocking round them and tied it. Then she squatted down and tied my knees together with another stocking. She lifted the caftan over my head and pulled it down. It fell well beyond my feet with the hem splaying over the floor. She pulled the two zips down. The caftan closed around me forcing my tied arms against my body. She lowered me to the bathroom floor with apparent ease. She was as strong as her muscles looked. Then she tied another stocking around my ankles outside the caftan.

"That should make it difficult for the girls to get at you. But I really want to make sure." she said.

She produced a heavy duty stapler and gathered the hem of the caftan which was well beyond my feet. She stapled above each zip's slider and through the layers of material several times. Finally she pulled the neck zip up as far as it would go and stapled just below its end. Now none of the zips could be moved.

"I think you are secure enough now." Theresa said.

I was getting worried. Not only couldn't the girls get at me, I couldn't see how I'd ever get out from inside her caftan. I found my helplessness erotic but I was having doubts. Theresa kissed me on the lips - a long sensuous kiss.

"You decided to leave my breasts until later. Now is "later"."

She straddled me with her breasts dangling over my face. Then she lowered one into my waiting mouth. I sucked but she continued to lower herself. Her breast spread over my face blocking my nostrils with soft scented flesh. She held her position for about twenty seconds before lifting herself. As I panted for breath she reached back behind her and produced the sash she'd tied my hands with before she'd re-birthed me. She had knotted in the middle and she forced the knot deep into my mouth. Theresa tied the sash behind my head then brought the wide ends forward, crossed them again muffling my face from nose to chin. Finally she wrapped the sash over my forehead and knotted it again.

As she gagged me her tears fell on my upturned face. I could do nothing about them as I was bound, mummified, gagged and nearly blindfolded lying on the hard bathroom floor.

I could barely see as Theresa walked across to the shower cubicle and positioned herself as she had when she'd regenerated me.

Theresa's voice seemed infinitely sad as she spoke from within the cubicle.

"I'm sorry that I misled you, Keith. Everything I've said was true but I left something out. Whatever happens I'm going to regenerate Amy, Cheryl and Deb. They will come out, one by one, randy as bitches on heat and looking marvellous. All that is true. You might enjoy their attraction to you but I ..."

She paused as if she didn't want to continue. She gulped.

"... I probably won't survive the last regeneration."

I struggled but Theresa had bound me too effectively.

"You can't get free to do anything, Keith. The girls won't be much help to you because they'll be on heat and you'll be unable to get them to set you free. Not in time. It's a shame. I would have liked to get to know you better. Goodbye, Keith."

I started crying soundlessly into my gag.

Theresa put one hand to her belly.

"Girls! Are you ready?"

I couldn't hear their reply.

"OK. One by one, here you come!"

Theresa plugged the hose into her pseudopod as if she'd done it hundreds of times. She turned the water on full. Within a minute a dwarf version of Amy was lying between Theresa's legs. Amy grew to full size in less than five more minutes. Then she drew breath as she head was uncovered and jumped to her feet. Apart from the drenching Amy looked like an "after" advert for a beauty treatment. She glowed with health. She was radiant. I couldn't bear to look at her beauty knowing that Theresa was killing herself.

Then Amy saw me lying on the floor. She was on me in a second, her hips banging away at me. I winced with the impact and shook my head from side to side to stop her. Amy was driving hard at my body and her hands tugged frantically at my wrappings.

I was barely aware of Cheryl being regenerated almost as quickly. Amy's pumping was slowing and her madness was beginning to wear off. She was roughly pushed aside by Cheryl.

Cheryl was stronger than Amy and her drive was really hurting me. I was being banged hard against the floor with every thrust of her hips. My head was still shaking as I tried vainly to displace the gag and stop Cheryl's frenzy.

Amy was trying to untie the sash from round my head but Cheryl's fury was impeding her.

I heard a moan from the cubicle and caught sight of Deborah's tiny body between Theresa's legs. I was too late. Now that Deborah was out either she would be regenerated at the expense of Theresa's life or they might both die. My head slumped back and tears streamed from my eyes.

"What is it Keith?" I heard Amy say.

I still couldn't reply. Cheryl was slowing. Amy had unwrapped my head but the knot holding the gag in place was still tight.

Then I was hit by Deborah. She may be small but she made up for it in furious energy. Cheryl was thrown aside to hit the bathroom wall. Deborah wrapped her arms and legs round me and rode me as if I was a bucking bronco. I wasn't but she was! Amy struggled to keep my head still enough to undo the gag. Deborah's frantic riding made it impossible for Amy to do anything except protect my head.

Finally Deborah slowed down. Cheryl pulled her off me, allowing Amy to ungag me. My tears were still flowing.

"What is it Keith?" Amy repeated.

"Theresa!" I yelled. "She's killed herself to get you three out!"

There was a horrified silence from all three as that penetrated even through Deborah's waning madness.

Then we heard a faint voice.

"No, Keith. I haven't."

Theresa had spoken. Amy and Cheryl rushed to her.

"At least I don't think so," Theresa whispered. "I need to rest. Ask Keith about it."

Theresa slumped back against the shower wall with her eyes closed. Amy and Cheryl came back to me.

Deborah was at my side.

"Well, Keith, what did Theresa mean?"

Deborah's voice had a menacing tone to it.

"Before I answer," I said "Look at yourselves in a mirror."

"Why?" asked Deborah.

"Please - just do it." I replied. "Look at your skin. Gabrielle described you girls to me. I never expected to see you naked but even so you are all so beautiful. I'm honoured."

Deb stood up.

"What do you mean? We're young and reasonably attractive, but beautiful?"

"Look in a mirror," was all I could say.

Deb looked in the mirror above the washbasin. She gasped.

"That's not me! It can't be!"

"It is you." I said. "You are beautiful."

"I can see that," she said sarcastically "What I mean is that I wasn't beautiful before ..."

The other two girls scrambled for the mirror. They were all surprised by the change in themselves. All skin blemishes had gone, even scars from minor accidents. Their skin was perfect and glowing with health. I relaxed and enjoyed their discovery of each other. If I had been Paris judging Goddesses I couldn't have been better supplied with naked beauty. I goggled helplessly.

"How is this possible?" asked Amy. "What has happened to us?"

"Don't knock it," said Cheryl "However it happened, it's wonderful."

"I think we owe Theresa our thanks," I said. "She's repaired us like new."

The three of them hugged each other. Then I was drowning in an orgy of kissing.

Deb brought us back to reality.

"That's not all you have to tell us, is it Keith? Why did Theresa truss you up like an oven-ready chicken?"

"She told me two things. First that you three would emerge from her feeling like bitches on heat with an irresistible urge to mate with a man. If one wasn't available you'd go anywhere, even out naked into the street, to find one. So she left me here for you to use but so securely wrapped that you couldn't actually get at me before the urge wore off. The second thing was that you'd come out looking so beautiful that I couldn't resist you. I agreed to be tied up to protect me as well as you. It wasn't until she'd made me her gagged and helpless prisoner that she told me one last thing. She did not expect to survive the effort of regenerating all of you. Effectively she was going to commit suicide so that you three could live."

My tears were flowing. Amy stroked my face.

I gulped and continued.

"I think that she was trying to make a full recompense for unbirthing you last night. Then her urge to live was so strong that she sacrificed you. Today she was voluntarily giving up her life to give you your lives back. We are all alive. You have a gift of beauty. I don't know how she has survived. I don't think she knows either. If she lives she will want your forgiveness and understanding."

The three girls looked at their new-born beauty.

Amy spoke first.

"On balance I think Theresa has given me more than enough to repay for my humiliation inside her. I'll forgive her almost anything for my new body."

Deborah was less enthusiastic.

"I agree but I didn't like the experience of trying to rape Keith. Too much of the last twenty-four hours has been beyond my control. It's not that you are not attractive enough, Keith. I just prefer to be able to choose who I make love to, not be driven by blind lust."

Deborah looked again at the mirror.

"But I'd kill to keep this body. Not only will I forgive Theresa, I'll cherish her for the rest of my life. How about you, Cheryl?"

"I have no doubt at all. I already was attractive. I had men swarming round me like flies. But now ... now I'll need a heavy duty fly-swatter. I'm stunned at how much Theresa has improved me. I'll forgive and forget everything except that Theresa has done so much for me at the risk of her life." Cheryl smiled.

Cheryl's smile on that perfect body made me grateful that I was still lashed in a helpless bundle. Otherwise I'd have fallen at Cheryl's feet to worship her.

Deborah summed up.

"We must tell Theresa that we forgive her everything. She needs to know that and to regain her will to live. Will she have help from you, Keith?"

"Yes, Deb. I'll do whatever I can for her."

Deborah went into the shower cubicle. Theresa was still lying back against the wall with her eyes shut. Deborah stroked Theresa's cheek while she moved her other arm around Theresa's shoulders.

"Theresa! Theresa! Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Deb." came the faint reply.

"Keith has explained it all to us. We forgive you everything. We want you to live as our friend and flatmate that we love - all four of us love you."

Theresa opened her eyes.

"You forgive me? Everything?"

"Yes. Everything even the humiliation and the uncontrollable lust. You have repaid us with interest with your beauty treatment. And Keith wants you. Please, please fight to survive."

"I think I've already done that, Deb. None of my ancestors ever regenerated more than two in a day. It must have been my basic fitness that was enough. I need to sleep for a while but I can feel my strength coming back."

"OK, Theresa. We'll help you to get to bed."

The three girls half-supported, half-carried Theresa to the bedroom. I lay on the bathroom floor struggling in my captivity until they returned.

Deb looked down at me and smiled.

"You can't lie there all day," she turned to Amy and Cheryl "If we are to keep Theresa's secret we have to make Keith presentable for Gabrielle when she calls him for lunch. That must be soon. What's the time? Cheryl?"

"It's one o'clock! Keith's lunch must be nearly ready." Cheryl replied.

"You'll need a screwdriver or pliers to get me out," I said. "Theresa's stapled me into this caftan."

Deb went to the kitchen to fetch my toolbox. When she returned all three girls worked away removing staples before unzipping me. It was a relief to be out of that caftan at last.

"Get dressed, Keith. Now!" ordered Deb. "After your lunch we need you back. We need to discuss Theresa's future. We'll give you an evening meal so you can stay until late."

I rushed for my clothes and threw them on. My jeans were still damp. I'd just got back into the kitchen when there was a knock at the flat door.

Deb's head peered round the kitchen door at me.

"You'd better answer that, Keith. Don't forget, we want you back later. The excuse is ... we need help assembling some flat pack furniture. That do?"

"Yes, Deb. I'll be back." I said moving towards the flat's main door.

"Keith!"

"Yes?"

"We really do have some furniture that needs assembling."

"OK Deb."

I opened the door to Gabrielle.

"Ready for lunch, Keith?"

"Yes, thank you, Gabrielle." I said leaving the flat.

"You're not saying goodbye to the girls?"

"No. They're all showering and then they want me to come back later. They have some flat pack furniture they'd like my help with. I've agreed in exchange for an evening meal."

I smiled at Gabrielle.

"Two free meals in one day. I'm glad you asked me to come."

Gabrielle took my hand. Only then I noticed how she looked. She wore a full length black dress fitted to the waist and flaring into a wide softly pleated skirt. Round her waist was a white lace-trimmed apron falling to her knees. Her hair fell across her shoulders in soft waves.

"Thank you for helping them. I really appreciate it."

She squeezed my hand.

"I'm sorry that the lunch won't be much. I've done my best with what I've got. Until next month Jonathan and I have to economise."

When I came into her dining room I could see that she had made a real effort. The table was fully laid with cutlery and table-cloth with tureens resting over hotplates.

I sat her at one end of the table. The soup was already served, steaming in the bowls and flanked by freshly baked bread rolls.

I sipped the soup. It was a vegetable broth but delicately flavoured. It certainly wasn't from a tin or packet. I'd rarely had soup as good even in expensive restaurants. The rolls tore easily and were still warm from the oven.

"Like it?" Gabrielle asked.

"If this soup and these rolls are a sample of your cooking, I'm not surprised Jonathan wanted to marry you. One of the few things I remember about him was that he appreciated good food." I replied.
"Thank you" Gabrielle said simply. I could see that she was pleased that I liked what she had cooked.

"We have spaghetti bolognaise for the main course, with a side salad." she said "Normally I'd give you a napkin because it can be messy to eat. However I haven't found the napkins yet. They are still somewhere in the unpacked boxes. So I've thought of an alternative to protect our clothes if you don't mind us looking rather ridiculous."

"I don't think my clothes need protection," I said, acutely aware of my damp jeans and working shirt "But I'll do whatever you suggest."

"Are you sure?" she asked. She had a mischievous grin on her face. I should have taken a hint from that grin but my damp jeans had reminded me just what had happened since I entered her house this morning. I wasn't really paying attention to subtle signals from Gabrielle.

"Yes. After that soup I put myself entirely in your hands."

It was good soup and I was feeling great.

Gabrielle went to the door and came back with two enormous white aprons.

"These will do to protect us. Sit still while I put yours on."

The apron was massive. It was like a Victorian parlour maid's full dress protection. It had a high neck with wide shoulder caps and frilled ties that crossed the back before tying at the back of the waist. The skirt covered my legs and nearly met behind me.

"There! You should be protected from any spills now." Gabrielle was laughing at me. "You did put yourself "entirely in my hands" didn't you?"

"But this apron is much better than my clothes. It looks more like an heirloom than a protection." I protested.

"It's nearly new. I made them myself. These are two early "failures" for this design. They aren't quite right because The frills don't sit properly. You didn't know that I make replica Victorian clothing, did you?"

"No. I know very little about you, Gabrielle, and that only from what you told me last night. Even then, most of the time we were talking about the students upstairs."

While we were talking she had started to serve the spaghetti. The spaghetti itself was in a stainless steel colander inside a saucepan over a spirit heater. As she lifted the colander the clear boiling water dripped back into the saucepan. She rested the colander in a bowl while she served the spaghetti to our warm plates.

"I hope this is timed just right. I parboiled and rinsed it and it should have finished cooking on the table. I had to guess how long we'd take over the soup."

Then she poured the bolognaise sauce over the spaghetti. The aroma was enticing. She continued:

"I was taught fancy needlework by my grandmother. She came to live with my parents when I was in my teens and I spent a lot of time with her. I'm not sure whether I was looking after her or whether she was looking after me. When I started being interested in Victorian Costume she showed me how to do many of the details on my mother's modern sewing machine rather than by hand."

We started on the spaghetti which she'd cooked to perfection but the bolognaise sauce was out of this world. I'd never had bolognaise like it before.

"This isn't a normal bolognaise sauce, is it?" I asked.

"Not really. I made it with a few touches of my own and with just a few herbs and spices but not too much of anything. I had to make the best of what I had on the kitchen shelves."

"If this is what you can do with what you have, I'd love to see what you could do with a free hand for ingredients."

Gabrielle smiled.

"Maybe I'll surprise you sometime. My grandmother taught me a lot more than fancy needlework."

The sweet course was as deceptively simple as the other two. She'd made "Spotted Dick" with custard. "Spotted Dick" can be a very heavy steamed pudding but hers seemed different. I can't really describe the difference. "Fluffier" isn't the right word. The texture was even and the pudding crumbled in the bowl instead of lying in a heavy lump as "Spotted Dick" usually does.

We moved to the sitting room with the coffee, shedding those massive aprons as we went. The coffee was a sharp contrast to the subtleties of the meal. It was instant coffee, good instant, but still not the real thing. Even so, if Jonathan was to live like this, I envied him. I relaxed re-living a wonderful meal.

Gabrielle seemed to be watching me closely. I raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, Keith. You seem to have changed so much since this morning or from last night as well."

I tried to laugh it off.

"No one is at their best on a wet Sunday morning. Last night I was depressed until I met you. Now I have a great meal inside me. The girls upstairs were very hospitable as well. I've been spoilt all day."

"Maybe, but you look younger than yesterday."

"Maybe it's the effect that the company of so many charming women has on me."

Gabrielle looked over her coffee cup at me.

"You know that Jonathan is away on his management course."

"Yes."

"It's a residential course. He won't be back, not even for weekends, for three weeks. He's already been away a week."

"Yes?" I didn't follow what she was getting at. I was too happy, too content to realise what she was hinting at.

She came out with it.

"While he's away I need a man. Without one I'd be ill."

That brought me out of my reverie with a jolt. Was that why I'd been dined so well?

"But ..." I expostulated.

"I mean it. It is literally true. I can't survive without a man."

"Are you related to Theresa upstairs?"

"What!"

I had startled her with the non sequitur. I repeated it.

"Are you related to Theresa?"

She could see that the question meant something to me, if not to her. I could see her decide to humour me.

"I don't think so. I have her references here somewhere. They give details of her family."

She stood up, went across to the bureau, opened it and riffled through papers. She found one, pulled it out, looked at it, then collapsed on the floor in a dead faint. I rushed across to her and put her in the recovery position. She moaned.

"Are you all right?"

It is always a stupid question. She nodded feebly. I helped her across to the settee. I sat down, cradling her in my arms. She laid her head on my shoulder. She was a very nice armful.

"I take it that you ARE related to Theresa?"

Gabrielle nodded again.

"She's my cousin. I didn't know. I didn't even know that my uncle and aunt were in this country. I've never met them and didn't know that they had any children. I thought - It doesn't matter what I thought. I take it that Theresa is the same as me?"

"She is." I replied.

"So you know what I need."

"Yes."

"Did you know about Theresa last night?"

"No. I only found out this morning. I didn't know about her or that anything like this existed. I just came today because you were pleasant company last night and you have a lovely smile. Mending a sash cord is no big deal. You needed it done. I could do it. That was enough for me. If I got a free cup of tea that would have been payment enough."

"So. Will you? ..."

"Of course. Like the broken sash cord, you need something from me that costs me very little to give. It can be my thanks for a much better meal than I'd expected to have today."

Gabrielle stood up, pulling me after her.

"Now, please. I really need it. I have been shaking inside at the thought of what doing without might mean to me. I can be normal again. Please, Keith."

I was following her as she nearly ran into the bedroom. She was desperate to take what she needed from me. She stripped my clothes off me in a blur of movement. She pushed me back on to the bed, straddled me, hauled up her massive skirt and mounted herself on me. I was surprised how quickly I'd responded after this morning's experiences.

It took longer than with Theresa. Gabrielle thrust herself on me and initially went too fast for me. Then she realised that she had a man inside her. Her need WOULD be met. She didn't need to strive so hard. She relaxed and moved more gently. Her hands found mine and moved them to her hips under her skirt. I held her. Her fingers went to my face and stroked around my lips. I sucked at fingers as they passed.

I felt an increasing warmth as I responded to her inner grip. I was grunting with the impact of her hips on mine. Her fingers stopped stroking and her hands pressed across my lips to silence me. I shuddered as I released myself into her.

Then Gabrielle changed. She purred to herself like a well-fed cat. The physical changes were less marked than Theresa's had been but she too glowed with health and fitness. She smiled down at me as if she was really seeing me for the first time.

"Thank you, Keith. You don't know what that has done for me."

I had some idea from Theresa's reaction but I couldn't answer. Gabrielle's hands still gagged my mouth and I'd nearly disappeared under her skirt.

She spread herself across my chest and lay there. Her hands moved to caress my sides. We lay like that for a long time before she asked:

"Am I pleasing enough for you to make love again, another day?"

"Yes, Gabrielle. I would be happy to do this whenever you want. But what about Jonathan?"

"He knows. I told him before we got engaged. He agreed to let me find my own solution if ever I needed to, as long as it didn't affect my love for him. I do love him. Even though you have been kind and generous, I love only Jonathan. I can be grateful to you, can be a friend to you, but nothing more. Can you accept that?"

"I'll make a deal with you."

She looked carefully at me.

"Don't look like that. I like you very much. What I suggest is that if you NEED me, I'll come. If it isn't a need, I'll stay away. In return, I'd like a meal with you once in a while. I'm not so hot at cooking for myself. It need not be a meal cooked by you. I could give you a conducted tour of the restaurants in this town, with or without Jonathan. How's that?"

"Seems fair. I shouldn't need you when Jonathan's around. I'd rather have an agreement with someone I like than just anyone. I suppose it's different with you and Theresa?"

"I hope so. It is too early to say. It has been a very busy day so far and I only met her this morning. I'd like to explore the possibility of a relationship with her as a person. That will take time. How about introducing yourself to your cousin? It might be good for both of you. You share a problem. You share a house. You might find that together you can live with the problem easier. That's enough of my amateur social work. How about another cup of coffee to revive the workman of the household?"

It was a feeble joke but it was enough. Gabrielle kissed me. Without the driving need it was a pleasant kiss.

"OK. Another cup of coffee it is. Then we both go upstairs and I meet my long-lost cousin."

They met. When Theresa accepted that Gabrielle really was her cousin and had the same needs as her they fell crying into each others' arms. Amy, Cheryl, Deb and I left them to it and built flat-pack furniture for the rest of the afternoon.

In the evening Gabrielle and Theresa cooked a meal for all of us in Gabrielle's kitchen. I had been sent out to the convenience store to buy the ingredients. At the end of the meal I stood up. I asked for silence and proposed a toast:

"To long-lost relations and new-found friends. May we all have a new beginning together."

We drank the toast. I put my glass down. I was swamped by attractive young females all trying to hug me at once.

And the next day, and after ... That's another story.

The End.

Appendix

"Spotted Dick" recipe.
Not recommended for dieters!

Ingredients:

100g fresh breadcrumbs
175g currants
75g self-raising flour
75 ml milk
75g shredded suet
50g caster sugar
finely grated rind of one lemon

A. Half fill a large saucepan or preserving pan (at least 20cm diameter) with water and put on to boil.

B. Put all the ingredients except the milk in a large bowl and stir well until mixed.

C. Add milk. Blend in well. Bring the mixture to a soft tacky dough.

D. Put dough on a clean floured surface and knead smooth. Make into a roll about 15cm long.

E. Put roll on a clean pudding cloth, or greaseproof paper or foil. Fold the edges together at the top, twisting the ends. Tie ends with string and attach both ends to a lifting loop.

F. Lower the roll into the pan of boiling water and boil for 2 hours.

G. Lift the roll out of the water using the string loop. Place on a wire rack over a plate to drain.

H. Cut the string and roll the pudding on to a warm plate. Cut into slices to serve with custard.

How did Gabrielle make her "Spotted Dick" so different? I don't know except perhaps practice and skill.