I walked into the bedroom. It was strange the feeling I had, one of unreality.

Moving over to the wardrobe, I got out one of my favourite dresses. It was a black, long sleeve jersey in a polo neck style and with a black sash tie at the waist.

‘Perfect for this drafty old house.’ I thought.

I took off my jeans and t-shirt. The silk panties that I wore under my male clothing were now exposed to the cool air raising goose bumps.

The next move was over to the drawer for the matching bra and my breast forms.

After skilfully putting on the bra, I was good at that now after years of practice, I gasped softly as I put the breast forms in the cups, they were cold to the skin, but I knew that they would soon warm to my body heat.

Next I placed the suspender belt around my waist and sensually pulled up the sheer black stockings.

My hands trembled slightly, revelling in the sensuality of this simple action.

Finally it was time to put the dress on and I stepped into it and pulled it up over my waiting body.

With some difficulty, I managed to do up the four buttons at the back, put my wig on and combed it through when I heard a noise coming from somewhere in the house.

I stopped, barely breathing as I walked over to the door in my stockinged feet, opened the door and peeped my head through, holding my breath as I strained to hear any other noises.

I stood there for some time, but heard nothing else.

Remembering how noisy and creaky this house was, I just turned back into the room to finish getting ready.

I went into the bathroom and snorted at my appearance, I hadn’t done my makeup yet. Shaking my head regarding my forgetfulness I carefully took off the wig and proceeded to try to make myself look as beautiful as possible.

Years of practice made it easy for me to apply the foundation, blusher, eye shadow, mascara and lip-gloss. It took just ten minutes and I was done.

Satisfied with the way I looked, I placed the long flowing honey blond wig back on my head and brushed it into the style I loved; long and straight, with a parting just off centre and a fringe that just stopped above my carefully plucked and shaped eyebrows.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I smiled at the reflection of my lovely face. It looked about eighteen but with a hint of experience and sensuality. But it was strange, I looked slightly different than before, but I could not put my finger on what was different. It must be the makeup under this lighting. I shrugged and then smiled; yes I was back.

I went into the bedroom put on my three inch heeled, black sling backs and went out into the hall and then down the stairs.

There was another creak from somewhere, but I ignored it; just another background noise.

My nylon encased legs brushing against my inner thighs and the soft fabric of my dress felt delicious.

The long flowing hair kept touching my made up face delicately and sensually as I walked. I brushed the hair out of my eyes, being careful not to put it too much out of shape I felt all girl and I loved the sensations I was feeling.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the kitchen.

Making my way over to the wine rack, I pulled out a bottle of Rioja and poured myself a large glass of the red wine, made my way to the sitting room and sat by the fire.

As I sipped my drink, my eyes looked at the embers in the fireplace. I do love a log fire; the warmth and the welcoming glow made me feel relaxed and happy.

A small smile lit my face at noticing my lipstick imprinted on the glass rim and then down at my legs, so pretty in their dark nylon embrace.

My eyes began to feel a bit heavy and I put my glass down for a moment.

Before I knew it I was asleep.

There was a big bang as the door flew wide making me jump. My eyes snapped open and there was Robert; he had a large knife in his hands and he was coming towards me.

‘Robert, no, what are you doing. I can explain!’

‘Pretend that you are a girl, eh? Lead me along and make me fall for you? I found out about you. You are nothing but a queer in a dress, you bastard.’

‘I was going to tell you, I promise. I love you. I am going to have the operation to make me whole and to make me the girl I really am, Robert, don’t be silly. Put the knife down, please!’

‘Thought you could make a fool out of me? No one treats me like this and gets away with it. You are going to pay for doing this, if it’s the last thing I do.’

He came after me, madness in his eyes and I ran from the room.

Hindered by my heels, I wanted to stop and take them off, but just did not have enough time!

We ran through the house, he was like a maniac, he hated me and he wanted to punish me. I didn’t know what had gotten into him; my lovely gentle Robert, with a knife in his hand, coming after me.

‘Robert, please… No! Have mercy. I love you. Don’t hurt me!’

I screaming again for him to stop and show some forgiveness as I rushed up the stairs with him following close behind. About half way up, one of my heels broke. I couldn’t take the shoe off, there was no time.

Gasping for breath, I hobbled into the bedroom and slammed the door closed.

I frantically looked for the key, but it wasn’t in the lock.

I grabbed a chair and jammed it against the doorknob.

Suddenly, there was a loud thumping at the door.

‘Let me in.’ he shouted.

‘When you calm down. We need to talk.’

‘I don’t want to talk to you. You lied to me. I wanted to marry you; have kids, everything and now this!

He banged on the door again. He was screaming and ranting now. I closed my ears and huddled down in the corner, shaking with fear.

Suddenly the chair worked loose and he was in the room.

I looked at his face, it didn't seem quite human. He was breathing heavily, spittle oozed from the corner of his mouth. I could see that he was beyond reason. The knife in his hand looked huge. It was a kitchen knife. The blade glinted in the dull light from the bulb in the ceiling and the reflection of the flame coming from the fireplace.

Everything seemed to go slowly as he advanced across the room towards my crouching, terrified figure.

‘Please.’ I whispered, beseeching him not to hurt me.

He ignored my cries as he grabbed me by the hair.

My carefully brushed wig came off my head and he looked at it with a puzzled expression and then threw it in the fire.

He turned back to me and hit me across the face with his open hand.

I fell back and he came at me with the knife.

I covered my face and screamed as I felt the knife cut into my arms and then legs. It was strange, there was no pain.

He leant forward and I could see his face close up, the eyes bloodshot and the breath foul as he said, ‘time to die.’

My bloody arms were pulled away from my face, I closed my eyes tight and then I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my neck.

He ran out of the room, still clutching the knife and laughing.

I looked down to see my beautiful dress covered in blood, my blood.

As I looked, the red pool around me grew rapidly and I could feel myself fading, fading away until I could feel no more.

***

I woke up screaming.

I looked down at myself, expecting to see the blood on me, but nothing!

My long white nightdress was soaked not with blood, but sweat and the sheets were in a knotted mess all around me.

My heart was pounding wildly like I was going to have a heart attack and I was breathing so heavily that it was like I had been running.

‘It was a dream, only a dream.’ I sighed. ‘It must be this place. It’s getting to me.’

Getting up, I rather shakily went into the bathroom and sat down to have a wee. My heart gradually slowed down and I started to feel a bit chilly in my sweat-drenched nightie. My wig had loosened so I pulled it off and sat it beside me.

Back in the bedroom I felt that draft again on the back of my neck, making me shiver involuntarily. I could hear slight creaking noises from outside the room. I ignored them, knowing them for what they were, just the old house, creaking the way they do.

I wouldn’t admit to myself that I was scared or in any way frightened about this place, its noises, drafts and the fact that I had just experienced a horrific nightmare. I didn’t get where I was by being frightened of anything.

I changed into another white cotton nightie and put the damp one into the wash basket.

My mobile was going off as I walked back across the bedroom.

Only my four assistants knew this number and would only ring in an emergency.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi boss, it’s Jamie. Sorry to trouble you at this time of night.’

‘Get on with it. What do you want?’

‘Say boss, you OK your voice sounds funny, a bit high pitched.’

‘Never mind my voice, what the hell do you want?’

‘Sorry. I just got word that Mickey and Dave have been picked up by the police.’

They were two of my assistants.

‘Why? There’re clean.’

‘I know. Someone has been talking.’

I thought of my other assistant.

‘Where is Brian?’

‘I don’t know his phone is switched off.’

‘If he has said anything, he is dead.’

‘Do you want me to put some feelers out?’

‘Yes. If it’s him, Jamie, I want him gone. Understand?’

‘Yes boss. What about Mickey and Dave?’

‘They know what will happen if they talk.’

‘OK, boss. I’ll get on it.’

‘OK. There is a bonus in it for you. Don’t ring again on this number. I’ll ring you tomorrow. Have some answers by then.’

‘OK Boss.’

The phone went blank and I threw it across the room, breaking into several pieces as it hit the wall.

It looked as if my organisation needed pruning a bit and I would be the one to do it.

Luckily, no one knew where I was and that meant I was safe, for the moment.

I took a deep breath and went back into the bathroom, picked up my wig, placed it carefully on my head and went over to the mirror.

As I brushed it, I looked at myself in the mirror. It was strange but I seemed to look slightly different to what I was before, softer, even more feminine. Also, I had this strange red mark on my neck, on the left hand side. I felt the mark and could feel nothing. I also noted that I had a few long red marks on my arms.

I shrugged, it was probably nothing. Getting caught up in the bedclothes and thrashing about in my dreams, probably left some marks where the sheets had got caught up and they would no doubt be gone by the morning.

I touched up my lippy, switched the light off and went back to into the bedroom.

That damn breeze was getting worse and I shivered involuntarily as I straightened the sheets and got back into bed.

I switched the bedside light off, checked that my gun was under the pillow and tried to go back to sleep.

To be continued in the final part…