You have made it to the final chapter of our tale. A story of a young Transvestite, set in the 1980's with the backdrop of the near civil war ongoing in Northern Ireland. I try and tell the story over a number of chapters.

It is a work of complete fiction.

Although it is a piece of erotic fiction, there are scenes involving torture, i would like to advise you that this is not part of the Eroticism.

Chapter 7 - The hen night, the wake and the christening

It's an odd feeling, begging to be murdered rather than buried alive. Not a situation I would wish on anyone. Well that is a lie. I hoped that Jenkins was in the same position as he met his end. An end that I had facilitated.

I suppose that this was justice. I cried through the duct tape over my mouth.

"Please kill me." But my muffled screams were ignored, as shovels of loose soil landed on top of me.

I wondered how long had passed since I left Belfast. I had not been paying attention to time since I was caught on all fours with my next-door neighbour deep in my ass. It seemed like only a few weeks. But so much had happened.

I moved with my aunt in London, I got a job, then I got another job. I got tangled up with the IRA, I joined an aristocrat's harem, I became a girl, I flew to the United States of America to have plastic surgery on my boobs. I had the man who raped me killed, I got engaged to a prince, I had sex with an IRA assassin, as well as two princes and a princess.

Now that I think about it, that seemed like a lot to happen in just a few weeks, so more time had past since I left Belfast. As my grave slowly began to fill I counted the birthdays I had celebrated in London. It seems that three years had passed since fleeing Belfast in disgrace. I left in 1982 when I was just 18. It was now 1985 and I had just turned 21.

I celebrated my twenty first birthday with my new best friend Noora. It was also going to be my bachelorette party or Hen night as we called it in Belfast. We had planned to travel to Amsterdam and stay in Waldorf Astoria Hotel. She had an itinerary consisting of all the cultural landmarks that the Netherlands had to offer, we were to take in museums, the ballet and the opera. I was looking forward to visiting the Ann Frank Museum.

Noora arrived the day before me, and she greeted me at the Airport. She was dressed in a skintight pair of stone washed jeans, a Duran Duran t-shirt and a sexy pair of white stilettos. I was traveling on a diplomatic passport, so I had no trouble at customs.

She rushed towards me as I entered the arrival hall, we embraced in the way friends did. She whispered in my ear, "Habibi I have a surprise for you."

She took my hand and lowered it to her crotch, and I found a hardness I was not expecting. I soon sported a hardness of my own which was a bit of a concern in my dainty silk knickers.

We made our way from the airport to the car that was waiting for us. Noora almost threw herself into the back seat of the black BMW. I was wearing a knee length satin skirt, so I stepped into the car with a little more dignity. The moment the heavy door closed Noora issued instructions in Arabic to the driver.

The driver pushed a button and an opaque divider lifted up between the front of the car and us. I felt the car start to move, I was not able to take in Amsterdam as we drove as the windows were blacked out.

I turned to Noora, and she was struggling out of her jeans, "What the hell do you think you are doing Noora?"

Noora and I had become lovers, but she was married to an Arabic prince and I was due to be married to a prince of the British crown, so we tended to be a little more discreet with our liaisons. Fucking in the back of a car with her security detail only a thin wall of plastic away, wasn't the norm for us.

"Don't worry, you need to see this." She scoffed at me, still struggling with her skintight trousers. She had her beautiful arse facing me, I could never resist her asshole or those wonderous globes of flesh. I lunged forward, inhaling her wonderful scent. I parted those beautiful cheeks and through her satin panties I licked for all I was worth.

Her knees buckled and she yelled out, "Hababi, wait."

I didn't relent, and I reached for her pussy, my fingers slipping past her panties and into her hot moist pussy. My thumb made its way instinctively up to her little clit and was obstructed by a leather contraption. I was in awe of this goddess; her arse and pussy were almost enough to make me go straight. If only she had a cock, I would be truly satisfied.

She eased herself off my face, and took me by surprise, when she turned around. Instead of the black bush of her pubis, there was a flesh-coloured cock, it slapped me on the cheek as she swivelled her hips.

"It's a strap on, isn't it fantastic!" My eyes widened, it was about ten inches long, and was thicker than my wrist. My biggest lover paled in comparison to this monstrosity.

"Don't think you are coming near me with that thing." I protested with a laugh.

"Oh, my darling Stephanie, we are going to have so much fun this week." She said with a wink.

We made our way for about an hour to the hotel, fooling around with the strapon, it was so big that I couldn't wrap my fingers around it. If she fucked me with it, I was sure I wouldn't be able to sit down afterwards.

The car eventually made it to our hotel, and after some struggling to get her trousers on again, we made it up to our suite.

Over the last few years, I had become accustomed to the finer things in life, and the Waldorf Astoria Hotel was no exception. Our suite was more like a luxury apartment, with two bedrooms, a grand bathroom and a large living space. There was a balcony that overlooked the picturesque city of Amsterdam, its setting on the banks of the cannel was magical.

I started to unpack my bags, constantly getting pestered by Noora and her plastic manhood. She jumped me at every opportunity, I bent down to put things in a drawer the cock was pushed unceremoniously at my behind.

I started to realise that at some point I was going to have to take this beast in my ass. I wondered what it would be like to take this thing inside me. I will be honestly I was fifty percent dreading it, and fifty percent horny as hell thinking about it.

I was sitting exhausted, after a long day Nora entered the room I was in, wearing nothing but her lovely white stilettos, and the strap on with it white leather harness.

"Are you ready? I have always wanted to be the man." She was giddy.

I gave in, "Okay. Let me get washed up. Then you can lose your man virginity."

Her ear-to-ear grin was somewhat diminished when I said, "But what goes in my ass, is also going in your ass my love."

Nora looked down at her cock and considered it for a while, but her big grin returned to her face and she said, "Worth it Habibi."

I disrobed and made my way into the luxurious bathroom. I used the toilet as I wanted to empty my bowels before Nora went near me with her dong. I wanted to be clean for her, I always wanted my insides to be clean before I had sex.

I was able to turn the nozzle of the bidet and squat over it and gently sprayed some warm water into my bum, and let it flow out. As always, I rinsed and repeated a couple of times. Once I was satisfied that my insides were as clean as I could get them, I stepped into the shower.

I love a hot shower, the shower pressure in this hotel was superb, and the shampoo was sensational. I was completely lost in the moment; I didn't notice Nora enter the cubical behind me.

Her lips pressing on my neck startled me. I allowed her to nuzzle into me, and I felt the massive rubber cock press into my ass cheeks. I left out a soft moan as her hands reached around to my stiffening cock.

She jerked me a few times before releasing me and reaching for the sponge, which she lathered up with copious amounts of soap. It had never occurred to me that the act of washing, would be erotic. But then I had never been washed by a beautiful Arabian princess before. Every movement, every touch was hypercharge, my skin reacted to her attention and I broke out in goose bumps.

She paid close attention to my bottom, my derriere had never been so polished. Her hands began to explore, I felt her long slender fingers tease my little opening a couple of time before her French manicured nails penetrated me.

Thankfully the soap had done its job, and her dainty fingers slipped into me. I felt them curve back out and she tickled my tender spots inside. Instinctively I arched my back and rose up onto my toes.

She changed tact, rather than teasing my prostrate, she withdrew her fingers and slide them back inside just before the were fully out. She began to finger me slipping another finger in, and another. I lost count of how many digits she had slipped into my asshole. Surely it was four at the most.

"Aetaqid 'anak mustaeidun ya habiy" She whispered into my ear.

"What?" I asked. I felt her bring her rubber cock to my ass, she was sliding it through my cheeks.

"You are ready my love." She translated. As the tip of her fake phallus touched my entrance. I am not sure that I was ready, I am equally not sure that I could stop her.

She inched forward, and my ass began to cry out in displeasure. I am used to the initial sting of getting fucked in the butt. This wasn't the same, this was unpleasant.

She started to drive it into me. It must have been ten or twelve inches long, and a good three or four inched thick. If nothing else, I learned that big isn't better. Give me a hard six maybe seven inches over this anyday. I can work with six inches, I can go to town on seven. Whatever this was in my boi pussy was an atrocity.

But I persisted, until I could not persist any longer.

"No!" I yelled out in a mixture of frustration (I was incredibly horny, and this wasn't doing it for me), and pain (it really wasn't doing it for me), and I stepped forward. I'm sure I left a mammoth gape.

The relief I felt now that I was empty is difficult to describe, without talking about toilet usage, and this may be a story of my sexploits, kidnap and eventual murder, I will not lower myself to using toilet metaphors.

I found the sponge, and I turned her around so her back was to me, and I started to clean my lover. I only pray that my attempted ablution's were as erotic as the service she had performed on me.

I tried to mimic her, I cleaned the plastic nob. While my free hand wondered her body. I generously lathered up her lovely pert boobies.

"You're going to fuck me in my asshole." She said as she felt my hardness settle between her luscious ass cheeks.

"Oh my darling, I am going to fuck you everywhere." She responded by reaching behind and parting her golden fleshy ass cheeks. The feeling of tightness that welcomed my little cock was magnificent. I used some soap suds to reduce the fiction but soon I was inside her ass.

There I waited, allowing her to get used to having my cock in there. As we waitied I un fastened the leather straps of her beastly plastic cock and allowed it to drop to the tiled floor.

"Won't be needing that again." I said. Nora responded by moving her hips along my cock.

I took hold of her waist and started to fuck her. I picked up a good rhythm, and went with it. I was fairly sure that getting fucked in the ass was not as enjoyable for women as it is for me, so my intention was to cum deep in her butt. then to eat her tasty pussy for as long as it took.

"Baby, please don't waste your seed in my ass." Nora begged.

Without breaking my stride, I asked. "Where do you want me to cum?"

"I want you to get me pregnant, my husband and I want to have your babies."

Without pause or consideration, I pulled out of that peach of an arse. Her pussy was as welcoming as it always was. She swore in Arabic as I entered her pussy.

"Is it ok?"

"Oh Habibi, shukraan." She groaned in pleasure, and as I began to gently rub her clit, she softly repeated the phrase, "Nam Shikraan." Her voice raising an octave each time.

I would love to say I was able to last for more than a few minutes, but I couldn't. Nora's pussy was tight, and her moans of pleasure were all the mental stimulation I would ever need.

My orgasm took me by surprise. It was deep, it was hard and it came from my soul. As the last of my seed left my body, I almost collapsed. I was able to steady myself and ease myself to the floor.

Nora turned to me, her body soaked with shower water, her face blush with colour. She leapt down to me, taking my face in her hands and plastered me with kisses.

She whispered over and over, "Habibi Shukraan."

I was able to fuck her once more in the shower. During a visit to a sex museum she found a double ended dildo, we had so much fun on the ends of that lovely black rubber toy. Maybe that is another story.

After my holiday was over, I was to return to London and prepare for my wedding.

A heavy boulder dropped on to me and snapped me back to reality. By now there was a few inches of dirt on top of me, I was still able to move enough of it out of the way to breath. I heard a commotion above me, I couldn't make out what was happening, although I could breath, the weight of the soil made it a struggle.

Thankfully the end was near. My brain had, had enough of this torture and switched off.

Suffocation is dizzying. The world got louder, and brighter as I left this life under a few feet of loose earth.

Oddly it seems that suffocation is not always terminal.

I awoke several days later, in hospital. Henry was at my bedside he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Confused I asked, "What the?"

He took my hand and reassured me that it would be ok. It was all too much for me.

I woke again a day or two after that. My brain had come to terms with not being dead. So, I was just a little more compos mentis. Noora was at my bedside she was holding my hand, she was wearing a black Abaya, it was the first time I had seen her dressed in the traditional Arabic way.

"Noora what the hell are you wearing?" I tried to joke.

She smiled "My darling Stephanie, praise be that you are ok." She squeezed my hand tightly.

"What happened?" From the other side of the room Sir Geoffrey answered.

"You were kidnapped by the Irish republican army and held to ransom. Our brave prince Henry led the rescue team. Three terrorists were killed two men and a woman. Thankfully our people got you out alive." I struggled to see the man who had saved me twice now. He was sitting facing me, wiping his spectacles clean. "At least that is what the press have been told. Your alter ego Shaun is dead. His funeral was attended by over eight hundred mourners the eulogy was read by leader of sinn fein. Shaun's mother will receive a martyr's pension from the Irish state. His father has been moved into the IRA wing of the maze prison, where he will be safe. You are never to have any contact with them or anyone from your former life again. Lives are at stake. Do you understand?" I nodded that I did.

"We have gone to great efforts to design you a new identity, one that allows you to be married to a prince. It seems that you met during his naval service, you are the only daughter of the late Sir Kenneth Terrill Jones her majesties former ambassador to the Sultanate of Oman, you lived there for your entire life, and met Prince Henry when he was stationed to the embassy in Muscat..." Henry entered my room.

"Sir Geoffrey, I am sure that she could be debriefed later. She needs her rest." I did, and I was asleep before he had a chance to respond.

The next time I woke up I was not in the United Kingdom there was a warmth in the air that just doesn't happen in good old blighty. The bruising was gone, my broken bones were all but healed. My missing teeth were no longer missing, my nose was straight again, but my head was still fuzzy.

I got out of my bed and looked out the window the sun was setting over a crystal-clear sea washing onto golden sands under the wooden hut I was in. Though saying it was a hut was not doing it justice. This was the Buckingham palace of huts.

I looked down my body, I was wearing an ivory full-length silk night gown. I made my way out of the bedroom into the lounge. Henry was sitting with his back to me, if I didn't know any better I would say he was holding a baby.

"Henry where are we?" I asked, he turned towards me and yes, he was holding a little baby, it couldn't have been older than a few weeks.

"My goodness, you're awake." He said. He rose to his feet and presented the baby to me. She was beautiful. "This is Claire, our daughter. Your Daughter." He passed Claire to me I took her into my arms I must have looked totally confused.

"It seems that Niamh was not using protection, so when you and she had your moment, you got her pregnant. She died three weeks ago giving birth to Claire. We named her after your mother. It was Noora's idea really."

As I held my daughter for the first time, tears were rolling down my face. I had never been responsible for anything good in my life, until now. Somehow, I was partially accountable for creating this perfect little life. I looked down into her eyes and a little smile crept over her face. In that moment I felt something that I had never felt before.

I was now a wife.

I was a mother.

And for the first time in my life

I felt worth.

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