And All Things Nice free porn video

And All Things Nice by Paul1954 "Daddy, daddy - did you get it yet?" Sally asked excitedly as she ran to greet her father as he returned home from work, following a hard day in the office. Martin Hall's mind took a few moments to register his daughter's words as he made the transition from Sales Manager to father. This was something that was getting increasingly hard for him, and he inwardly groaned, as he remembered his promise to her, made that very morning. He had known at the time that it was foolish when he had told his daughter Sally that he would stop off at the department store on his way home and would get her the doll that she coveted so much. He didn't even approve of letting children know what presents they were going to receive but he had been desperate to get out and would have said anything to stop her ceaseless nagging of him. She had been nagging her parents for weeks now - 'all her friends had got one', in that whiney little girl voice she had perfected, but they had steadfastly refused to give in to her attempts at emotional blackmail. 'Money doesn't grow on trees' they would say and that she 'should wait and see what she got for her birthday'. Well her birthday was tomorrow now, and when you are eight-years old these things are simply life and death to you! Even as he thought those words he felt a sharp stabbing pain that went straight into the middle of his heart as he realised that he was probably being selfish and insensitive. He knew that this birthday was going to be even more significant than usual for them all, for this would be the first year since Sophie had been born that there would just be the three of them. Losing his five-year old daughter to a hit- and-run incident had nearly unhinged both himself and his wife but they had kept themselves together for Sally's sake and had almost managed to pull themselves around now. Tomorrow though, tomorrow would be a big test for them for although there had been two-years difference between his daughters, they had shared the same birthday, an unusual event in itself but one that had prompted many happy memories of joint celebrations each year. Now though, their celebrations would be muted for how could they ever fully enjoy that day ever again! These thoughts passed through his mind in a microsecond and he looked at Sally guiltily, knowing that she could read in his eyes the fact that he hadn't got her what she so wanted. "Oh honey, I didn't finish work until late and by the time I got to the store it was closed. Don't worry though, I'll be back early tomorrow and I'll make sure you get what you want most of all" he said, forcing himself to smile as he hugged her, trying to console her. He could feel her eyes penetrating through his white lie for, in truth, he had forgotten all about it and had not even been to the store. Sally managed to hide her hurt at her father's failings as she thought about what she really, really wanted most of all - even above everything else. More than anything else she wanted her sister Sophie back. At first, when Sophie had been born, she had resented having another pretty little thing around the house, something she had initially regarded as competition for her parents affections. After a while though she got to realise that she was in fact the big sister around here, and that along with that position she held a degree of control over her smaller sibling. Since then she never missed a chance to exercise that control, whenever the occasion arose. And there had been plenty of occasions. Mummy would frequently get tired, as mummy's do, looking after two energetic children and keeping the home and everything, and when Sally offered help in looking after her sister it was eagerly grasped by her mummy. Her mummy was so relieved to get a break and was grateful that 'girls were so much more mature than boys', and that she had two of them. She had often heard her mummy saying that. It hadn't taken long for her to subjugate Sally, and bend her to her will completely. Once that had been achieved then she grew to love her sister, and now there was just a big hole in her life and she missed having someone who she could play the big sister to and boss around. At least she would have had her doll to pretend was Sophie, but now she didn't even have that and she just knew that her daddy would forget again tomorrow. She finally managed to pull herself away from her daddy's embrace and just managed to hide her stubborn and disappointed face as she saw mummy walk in the room. "Oh Martin, you're late again. They're working you much too hard. You've got to let go a little - it seems like we hardly see you anymore these days" she said sadly, looking at the clock in the hallway and seeing that it had gone 8 o'clock now. "I'm sorry darling, I really tried hard to get away but we're going through a tough time at the moment and it we've just got to keep on pulling out all the stops just to keep our heads above water!" he exclaimed wearily. It was true. At first he had thrown himself completely into his work in an attempt to blot out his hurt, but as the months had gone by it had become a necessity. A new competitor had undercut them by a big way and it was getting harder and harder to make the sale nowadays. He did feel guilty though. He knew that he neglected Margaret at times, though not deliberately, and that she had had to get through her own hurt by herself. "Well maybe you had better start thinking about whether it is worth all this effort. I know we need to eat but you've got a family too you know, and I'd like to see a little more of the handsome man that I married" she said, reaching her head across to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I also had another call from Wright's this morning. You know that Gena still works there and she said they could always find me something to do, even if it was only part-time for a while. That might take a little of the pressure away from you and would give me another interest as well. It can be very lonely sometimes, when you're on your own here all day" she continued, as she walked into the kitchen to heat up his meal. "Look darling, you know that we've talked about this so many times. We've both agreed that it would be best for you to be a 'stay at home mother' until Sally moves on to secondary school. I can cope okay - honest!" he said unconvincingly. They both knew that this was not the only reason he didn't want Margaret going back to Wright's. He knew that Gena's brother Andrew still held a flame for Margaret, and that he had only just managed to win over her affections from him. She could have gone either way before she finally agreed to marry him, and he did not want to put temptation in her way again. God, how he hated that man. He couldn't understand what she had ever seen in him! He saw Margaret's look of disappointment and realised that maybe he was being just a bit selfish again. After all, he had his work to bury himself into to try and blot out the thoughts of Sophie - what did Margaret have? He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a kiss, while she just left an empty silence, almost daring him to fill it. "Yeah - well maybe you're right. It's just that I've been with this company for over fifteen-years and I just can't let them down right now, not when they need me most. Maybe we can talk about you going back to work again, after I've got through this tough period. It's hard for me to be objective about it at the moment. I will ease off a little though, and I'll make sure that I'm home in good time for tomorrow. I've got a client review in the morning but I'm fairly free after that. It's a two-hundred mile drive back, but that shouldn't take too long during mid-afternoon. Right this minute though I'm starving. What have you got?" he asked as the microwave pinged, signalling it had completed its re-heating of whatever Margaret had prepared for him. "Roast chicken with all the trimmings, but it might be a little dried out after all this time. Why don't you go and sit down and I'll bring it in to you". She felt slightly annoyed at his feeble attempts to disguise his determination to hide the fact he wanted to remain the bread-winner. After all, with the insurance pay out she had received when her parents had passed on last year, they could afford it if he eased up a little. She briefly wondered if Andrew would have been like this and then felt guilty for thinking it. Whatever Martin's faults were, she DID love him and he DID do what he thought was best for them all. Martin poured himself a beer and set about his meal with gusto, but was only half way through it when Margaret brought his daughter in to say goodnight and his guilt returned two-fold while she tried not to look hurt. He kissed her goodnight, and Margaret took her up to bed whilst he thought about tomorrow. It wasn't as if the doll was the only thing that she had wanted, or that they had got, but it HAD been the most important and he started to think what he could do to ease her disappointment a little, until he returned home from his meeting tomorrow. It was never the same if you didn't get what you wanted when you woke on your birthday, not when you're an innocent little girl, but maybe he could buy a little time for himself, he thought as inspiration hit him. It was just as he pushed his plate away that Margaret returned. "You know, she's putting on a brave face but I think she'll be heartbroken in the morning. It's bad enough not having Sophie around but I think this will only make it worse - for all of us" she added, not hiding her own disappointment in him this time. "Look, I feel bad enough about this already - don't make me feel any worse. I've had a thought. I think I've still got something up in the loft that might keep her amused if I can find it. I'll go and get it and clean it up. It might be enough to keep her going for a while, at least until I can get her the real thing"! "Why don't you go and give her a kiss goodnight first while I clear this up, and then see what we can do" she replied, before taking his plate away as he rose, and went upstairs. Sally had already gone to sleep by the time that he had gone to her bedroom, and he looked lovingly at her peaceful face thinking that she looked so small and vulnerable when she was like this. He kissed her forehead and then went out into the hallway before pulling the door to the loft open, and climbing up the ladder that descended from it. It took a good twenty minutes until he found what he was looking for but he went downstairs dirty but happy, holding his prize in his hands, and ready to show Margaret. "What on Earth have you got there Martin?" she said, as he laid a box on the table and peered inside. With a theatrical flourish he pulled out a twelve-inch male doll, for want of a better word, dressed in combat fatigues. "This is Commando Ken. I picked him up in a garage sale a couple of years ago, meaning to give him to my nephew as a Christmas present but I found out that somebody else had gotten him a brand new one so it's been stored upstairs ever since". "Ohhh yes! I'd forgotten all about that, but surely you're not going to give that to Sally are you? You can't expect her to settle for that instead of the Cassie doll she's been pestering us for". "No, of course not. No, this is as well as, not instead of. Look - it comes with a whole load of different clothes and outfits that she can keep herself busy with while she waits for her real present". She looked at some of the outfits and sighed inwardly. What on Earth made him think that a little girl like Sally would be interested in dressing up a male figurine in things such as a frogman's suit, winter combat gear and even as an astronaut. Combat Ken was not the only one living on a different planet if Martin thought she would be interested in this, she sighed! She watched him with wonder as he stripped the figurine out of it's combat clothing, revealing an anatomically correct male figure, albeit in terms of a believable bulge where you would have expected to find it, at any rate. She was stunned into a mute silence as she watched him put the mock rubber frogman's suit on the figurine, easing the tight leggings and zipped suit upwards his body until he was covered from head to toe. "Well I don't know about you but it seems that the female sex lost a valuable member when your male hormones kicked in, in your mother's womb!" she exclaimed, causing him to look up at her, puzzled. "Wh..what do you mean?" he asked her quizzically, surprised at her serious face and failing to see the mischievous smile at the corner of her mouth. "I mean silly" she said, punching his arm playfully, "that you handle your little dolly so naturally that anyone would have thought that you'd had practise. Are you having fun"? This time he saw the joke and made a grab for her as she slipped out of his grasp. "No but seriously, maybe you have missed your calling. You would make a great play friend for Sally" she laughed, as he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Her laughs turned to groans of pleasure as he virtually ripped the clothes from her body before mounting her with a hardness that she hadn't felt from him for a long time. She briefly wondered what it was that had brought on this sudden demonstration of his ardour until her thought was driven completely away by his fevered thrusting, making her lose all control as her body responded eagerly. * * * * * * * Margaret had a special glow about her as she woke her daughter that morning. She still felt a touch of soreness from her most intimate of parts that would normally have bothered her, but today it just served to remind her of the passion she had shared with Martin. It had been the best night they had spent since they had lost Sophie and today she only felt a slight pain at her memory, and not the nagging ache that she had gotten so used to feeling. She felt she had connected with her husband again. "Happy birthday Sally" she said, as she pulled the cover away from her sleeping daughter's face and kissed her cheek. She felt a warm glow of love churn deep inside her as she watched Sally's eyes force themselves open and focus on her as she returned to the land of the living. This was followed by a brief sense of pain in her gut, as she felt guilty at being happy again. It didn't seem right somehow, as she remembered doing this to both of her daughters, just a year ago today. Still, she just had to banish those thoughts for Sally's sake - it wouldn't be fair otherwise! "Is daddy still here?" Sally asked her mother, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "No, sorry baby. He had to set off early to get to his client meeting this morning, but he will be back very early this afternoon. He wanted to get back early so that he could bring your present for you". A stubborn look of anger briefly moved across Sally's face, and then disappeared as soon as it had came. "Does that mean that I haven't got my Cassie doll yet? Sally questioned innocently, making it obvious that she was trying hard not to sound too disappointed and getting the desired reaction from her mummy. "No baby, but if you'll just be patient then I'm sure that you'll get what you want the most of all" Margaret replied. Sally doubted it, nothing would bring Sophie back - ever! She got out of her bed, and looked for her clothes. "Now before you get dressed why don't you open some of those other parcels at the end of your bed - you might find something in there that you'll like" Margaret cajoled Sally. Sally walked to the end of her bed and saw an array of packages just begging to be opened, and she set about the task with the vigour that only the very young possess. She pulled out a new dress, a pair of shoes, some cheap mock jewellery, and even a new hairband. Another parcel yielded the Little Miss Sewing kit that she had been eager for and she carefully laid her new things down beside her until she had only one parcel left. Her eyes lit up in expectation as she ripped open the wrapping paper, failing to notice the pretty pattern and that had been so carefully chosen by her mother. "Th..then you were just teasing me - this is really a Cassie doll isn't it!" she said excitedly, causing Margaret's heart to drop in anticipation of Sally's disappointment. "Now don't you build your hopes up too much baby. You know that daddy said he'd get the Cassie doll on his way home" she replied, giving Sally time to control herself. Sally opened the old shoe box Martin had placed it in and took out the Combat Ken doll looking at it and not really knowing what to say. The last thing she had expected was to find some dumb boy toy along with all those aggressive looking accessories that went with it. She, diplomatically put it down on the bed before changing the subject and enthusing about her new outfit, and how she'd wear it for her upcoming party that they'd decided to hold this coming weekend. After taking breakfast Sally was taken to school and spent the rest of the day explaining to her friends why she hadn't received the object of her desires, and getting increasingly angry. Margaret, meanwhile, went shopping to get the ingredients for the cake that she was going to bake this afternoon before picking up Sally. * * * * * * * Martin hid his relief as he shook his client's hand, knowing that he had almost clinched the deal. It was the single most important deal that he had ever struck and would most probably ease his company through their lean patch, just on its own. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 1:30pm. It would take him around two hours before he got back, and he would have plenty of time to get to the store, and be back early for Sally's birthday tea. He felt happier than he had done for a long time as he got onto the motorway, and he fingered the Saint Christopher as he always did before setting off for a long journey. He had picked it up at the same time as the Combat Ken doll - no figurine - he thought, refusing to now think of it as a doll following Margaret's comments last night. He had felt drawn to it immediately, feeling that it would one-day mean something special to him, although he couldn't figure out why! He had been travelling for about half an hour when he felt an overpowering sense of foreboding and he checked his speed. Seeing that he was doing 80mph he slowed down, mentally telling himself to take more care in the future, and was soon down to 60mph, reasoning that it would better for Sally that he got home a little late rather than not at all. It was just as well that he did for just a few moments later he suffered a blow-out in his offside front tyre. He sat helpless as he car swerved to the left and then to the right. He wrestled with the steering wheel but could do nothing to prevent the car spinning around 360 degrees before somehow missing the other traffic and settling to a halt in the middle of the fast lane. He sat in a daze for what must have been a few minutes until he vaguely became aware of people surrounding him and trying to ask if he was all right, and trying to open the locked door. He felt as if he was looking at himself in a movie and felt powerless to respond until he noticed fast approaching blue flashing lights and shortly afterwards a figure of authority banged on his door, gesturing for him to undo the lock that was preventing his rescue. He was soon taken to the local hospital for a check-up, and it was recommended that he stay overnight, much to his chagrin, to give him chance to recover from the shock, and also to give the local garage chance to fix the blow-out. He knew that this made sense, and that there was no way that he was up to driving again today anyway, but he felt so bad about Sally - her first birthday without her sister and he wouldn't even be there to share it with her, or with Margaret. He called Margaret as soon as he had received his check up, and reassured her that he was all right and not to worry. In turn she reassured him and told him that she would explain everything to Sally. She would understand. It didn't make him feel any better about himself though, as he fingered the Saint Christopher before falling asleep. * * * * * * * "Mum - how about this. I decided to do something about Ken, before Daddy gets home!" Sally said, holding up an abomination of a parody of what had once been Combat Ken. Margaret had been very concerned. Sally had seemed so angry when she had told her that her daddy wouldn't be getting home tonight. She hadn't seemed to soften even after she had explained the circumstances to her, but she seemed a little better now she thought, relieved at not having to address the situation. Margaret tried but couldn't hold back a laugh as she looked at what Sally was holding up to her. The macho male figurine that had been so casually cast aside looked anything but, after what Sally had done to it. It seemed to be a bit of a tight squeeze but she had managed to fit an old dolls dress over it, doing nothing to hide it's maleness but having the effect of making it look ridiculous. "I know, it's not very good but I thought I'd try to do something with it - just in case Daddy can't get Cassie for me" she said, twirling the partially feminised doll around, showing it off. "Well then why don't you try and do the job properly then. Maybe you could get some practise in with your sewing kit. Oh, and remove that dog tag - it will look very strange on the pretty lady that you're going to create". "But it's not a dog thingy mummy, it's a little necklace, just like daddy has. Besides, I want it left on - it reminds me of daddy" she said happily, before skipping back to her room. Margaret just shook her head and smiled, pleased to see Sally so happy, and marvelling at the seemingly inexhaustible resilience of youth. Within minutes she could hear her little girl singing a nursery rhyme, the one that she had been singing to herself all afternoon. "Sugar and spice .. and all things nice, that's what little girls are made of. Sugar and spice .. and all things nice, that's what little girls are made of. Sugar and spice ..and..". Sally laughed to herself again. If only Martin could see what their daughter was doing to his precious Combat Ken! * * * * * * * Martin looked at his watch and saw that it was 7:30am. He had slept a fitful night's sleep, dreaming dreams that he could no longer remember, at least not in detail. He could remember an impression though, and it was just a feeling rather than a memory. He had this bizarre notion that in his dream he was dressed in women's clothing, wearing a much too tight dress, but everything else remained the same. He tried to shrug the feeling off. He was feeling exhausted despite his night's sleep, and didn't want to think too much about such nonsense. * * * * * * * Margaret came down the stairs bleary-eyed after receiving the phone call that had woken her. She couldn't believe that she had slept right through until 10 o'clock and felt confused when she heard her husband's voice at the other end of the line. She was a little concerned, despite his reassurances that nothing was wrong with him, when he told her that they wanted to keep him in for another day's observation. They had told him that he seemed to be highly-strung and a bit nervous. This wasn't uncommon after what he had experienced but they just wanted to be on the safe side. She put on the kettle for a cup of tea and walked into the living room, expecting to see Sally watching the Saturday morning children's programmes as she usually did. She was puzzled as she couldn't hear anything as she would have expected to, but smiled to herself when she saw her daughter surrounded by a floor littered with the old dress material that she had given to her last night. She was still repeating that rhyme to herself. "Sugar and spice .. and all things nice..". It was beginning to irritate her but she indulged her daughter, thinking that she had more important things to worry about right now. In the middle of all the mess sat Ken wearing nothing but the Saint Christopher necklace. As with the previous day, she had to stifle a laugh as she saw the make-up that Sally had put on him, from the foundation that covered his fake five o'clock shadow, to the lipstick and eye-shadow that appeared around his mouth and lips. She walked over and put her arms around her daughter's shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Poor Ken!" she said in mock sympathy, "I don't think that he is going to be fighting too many wars looking like that"! "It's not Ken any longer mummy. This is my new dolly Sophie!" she said, holding the figurine up so that her mummy could get a better look. Margaret felt a brief pang of pain at this reminder of what she had lost but again, managed to control her emotions and forced out a smile. Maybe this was Sally's way of coping with her own loss, and it might be better just to let her go with it! "Sugar and spice .. and all things nice..". She sat down in her armchair and took a sip of the hot tea, letting the hot liquid warm her from within. She was feeling very cold all of a sudden. It was something about that song! * * * * * * * Martin's nervous state had seemed to get worse as the day progressed. He mind had been playing tricks with him all day and he was getting increasingly concerned at what it was telling him. He couldn't stop thinking about what he might look like wearing some of his wife's clothes, and only this afternoon he had even started wondering how he might look with a little make-up on. What had started out as a vaguely remembered dream was fast becoming an obsession, and by tea time it seemed that he could think of nothing else. More disturbingly though, he had found himself looking closely at the young nurse who had been checking on him throughout the day. This was not the usual checking out of an attractive female though, that any red-blooded male might indulge in, wondering what she might look like under that uniform and how she might perform in bed. No, instead he found himself evaluating her whole look, wondering how she had styled her hair and wondering what it would look like when she had unpinned it and let it hang down. He had also started thinking about what colour make-up would go best with her natural skin colouring, and what jewellery might compliment it! He was getting increasingly disturbed and after calling his wife again, he had needed a sedative to help him get to sleep at around seven o'clock that night. * * * * * * * "Is daddy coming home soon mummy?" Sally asked her mother when she saw her put down the telephone. Margaret was a little distracted after her conversation with Martin and, at first, didn't hear her daughter. She was getting increasingly uneasy. He had sounded unlike she had ever heard him before, even when he had been totally stressed out at work! Her daughter soon grabbed her attention though, sounding annoyed at having to repeat herself. "I said, is daddy coming home soon mummy"! She looked at her daughter askance for a moment, a little shocked at the impatient tone she had used. She had never heard her talk like that before. "No honey, they are going to see what he's like in the morning and he'll let me know. I was thinking Sally - I think I'd like to go and collect him if you don't mind going to your Aunt Kathie's tomorrow. I am sure that it would do him good to see a friendly face. His lucky escape must have upset him more than he realised". "Okay mum, I can show Kathie my Sophie doll. What do you think now?" she asked, holding up the former Ken. Margaret was amazed. She had done a really good job on converting the ex-soldier. He now had long hair, courtesy of a lock taken from Sally's own head, was wearing a very passable miniskirt and heavens, he even had bumps in the right place underneath a cute little top! "H.how did you do all that?" she asked, surprised. She had known that Sally had been busy on her pet project all day, but this! Sally peeled back the top to reveal an old doll's bra, and underneath that she had fashioned some modelling clay to resemble a pair of breasts. "She's still not quite finished yet though!" Sally said, lifting up the skirt to reveal the very male bump that still existed down there. Margaret didn't know what to say. She supposed that it was harmless enough though, she just hoped that Martin wouldn't mind what Sally had done to Ken. "Okay missy, well you've been doing this all day. Go and get yourself washed and in your nightdress and then you can come downstairs for a hot chocolate and a biscuit before bed. We'll have to get up earlier if I'm taking you to Kathie's". Sally did as her mother had asked her to, and was soon back downstairs and cuddling up to her mother on the sofa. "Mummy, I burnt myself today" she said, holding up a finger which showed a small red mark on it. "Here, let me see!" Margaret said, as she examined the proffered digit. "How did you do that"? "It was on Sophie's necklace. I was holding it and it seemed to get hot". "Well I don't see how that could happen. Maybe you just pricked it with a needle or something, and you weren't aware of it at the time" she said, and reached for a book. "Okay, story time and then bed!" she said, as Sally forgot all about her finger. * * * * * * * It had seemed to Martin that he had been awake all night, tortured by thoughts and feelings that had previously been utterly alien to him. It had felt like he had been tossing and turning all night, and that damned irritation around his chest hadn't helped matters at all. He was just grateful that he could see the first signs of dawn through the flimsy curtain that shielded his room. He breathed a sigh of relief but it didn't last long, for the curiosity that he had felt yesterday, about what it might be like to wear female clothing, had just strengthened, and he knew that overnight that it had now become an all-consuming obsession. He lifted himself out of his bed, feeling tired and exhausted again, and decided that despite whatever advice the doctors might give him he would return home. He was sure that being in this place wasn't helping his nerves one little bit. He walked through the ward quietly, taking care not disturb his fellow patients, and past the empty desk that the nurse on duty had left for a moment. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do when he got there but when he saw a door bearing the legend "Strictly Hospital Personnel Only" he knew that he had to go inside. Once inside he saw a row of lockers and before he was even aware that he was doing so, he was soon opening their doors and rifling through them. It was almost as if he was in a trance as he lifted one item of clothing and then another and he entered an almost feverish state, such was his sudden sense of urgency.. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for but he quickly removed his pyjama's when he found a clean nurses dress hanging inside. He suddenly felt comfortable and calmed down, knowing that this had been what he had sought. He almost sighed as he slipped the crisp, stripy, uniform over his shoulders, and he shook his head as he surfaced through the folds of the material and saw daylight again. Up until this point he had seemed to be playing out an extension of his dreams from the last two days but the act of living them out broke his trance like state. He experienced a moment of sheer panic as he looked down at himself and realised that someone could walk in at any moment and catch him like this. He would be exposed as a pervert, or worse! What would Margaret say! He feverishly tried to remove the dress and only now, when he tried to remove it, noticed how tight it was on him. He momentarily trapped himself within its confines before freeing himself and putting his pyjama's back on. He almost ran from the room into the nearest bathroom before quickly sitting down on a toilet and letting the gushing wastes from his body calm himself. He hadn't even been aware that he was sitting, as he held his head in his hands and sobbed to himself. As his crying slowly ceased, he finished his ablutions and just sat there for a moment, starting to feel oppressed from the silence that surrounded him, wanting the noise of family life and other people to remind himself that he wasn't alone. His revere was broken by the welcome sound of another human being. "Hello - is everything all right in there or do you need any help"? He could tell by the self-assured way that she spoke that this was a nurse, although he didn't want to be seen in the state he was in now. He cleared his throat, and then replied. "I..I'm fine thank you. I'll be o.. out in a couple of minutes" he stammered , wondering why his voice had squeaked a little higher for a moment, just like it had done when his voice was first breaking. "Okay, but don't be too long. Breakfast will be here in a minute and you wouldn't want to miss out on that now, would you"! He could hear the ironic humour in her voice but it didn't register as such to him. He had other things to think about right now. He stood slowly, feeling a little unsteady on his feet, and pulled his pyjama bottoms up before walking over to the washbasin to rinse his face and hands. He turned on the taps and ran his hands in the cool water that rapidly warmed and, filling his hands, he splashed his face and tried to wash the sleep from his eyes. He looked up into his reflection and studied his face. There seemed to be something a little different about it but he couldn't quite place what it was. He could see that he needed a haircut though. He hadn't noticed it before but it seemed a lot longer than he could remember it being. He would have to see to it as soon as he got home. He scratched his chest as he remembered the irritation from the night before and opened the buttons of his pyjama jacket to study the offending area. Maybe he had brushed up against something that had caused this! As his chest was revealed he noticed that his nipples had become very red, no doubt from his scratching, and he was also surprised to see that the surrounding areas was a little puffy as well. They hadn't been like that before he had settled down for the night, and he wondered what had triggered this reaction because it was most unpleasant! He would have to point it out to the doctor on his morning rounds, and then he could see about getting out of here. * * * * * * * Margaret got up early the next morning, and took Sally round to her sister's house so that she could visit Martin as soon as possible. "Now you behave yourself and be a good girl for your aunt" Margaret had told Sally, before having a quick cup of tea with her sister to set her off on her journey. They left Sally alone while they chatted, letting her get on with her feminisation of Combat Ken, and failing to notice that she was bossing him around as if she had been her real sister. Margaret had been mildly amused when she had seen that Sally had packed a bag with things to do, and that they seemed to consist entirely of the changes she would make to Ken, no Sophie, whilst she was with her Aunt. Margaret had even given her an old dress of the real Sophie's to use, to make more clothing for the doll. She knew that she would have to let go of these things sometime, and would seem to be as good a time as any if it gave Sally some fun. Finishing her tea she set off on her journey, thinking back to the conversation she had with the hospital, before she had left her house this morning. As she had discussed her proposed visit, the nurse had informed her that they had advised Martin to remain here for at least another day, but he had insisted that he wanted to return home. When Margaret had asked them why they had advised this they had refused to go into details but asked if she could see if she could convince him to see sense, herself. Margaret had made no promises until she could understand what the problem was, and spent the rest of the journey getting increasingly concerned. She arrived at approximately 11 o'clock and was shown straight into the ward where Martin was staying. As she walked up to his bed she looked at his sleeping form and studied him carefully, feeling almost nervous at what she might find, for it had been nearly three days since she had last seen him, and he had sounded so upset! As she looked a little closer she was surprised at how much he had changed, and it wasn't necessarily how she had expected. It wasn't very much, and to someone who didn't know him very well the changes would have been imperceptible, but not her. She had expected to see a stress- ridden face but this was nothing like that. As he slept he appeared almost innocent and looked better than she had remembered seeing him for a long time, certainly since Sophie had passed on. Even his hair seemed a little longer! She looked closely at his face. It seemed so smooth and fresh, as if he had never had a shave in his life, and there wasn't even a hint of stubble around his chin. He had always been quite hirsute, seeming to permanently have a hint of five o'clock shadow about him and she ran her fingers along his smooth cheeks, as if to confirm the evidence of her own eyes. A shadow fell across Martin, breaking her examination, and she turned to see a doctor standing there, giving her a welcoming nod. "Mrs. Hall I presume!" he said expectantly, and held out his hand as she offered him a limp wrist and nodded her confirmation. "Please, can you come to my office. I would like to talk to you about your husbands condition before he wakes up" he said, and led her back down the corridor a small cubicle like office containing the obligatory medical charts, and the other accruements that denoted his profession. She sat and listened as he described how her husband was finding it hard to sleep properly and that they were concerned that he may be coming delusional due to this fact, and the shock of his accident. "Delusional, what do you mean?" she asked, her apprehension growing. "Well, nothing too much has happened yet, but when I examined him this morning he seemed convincing that something was happening to his body but couldn't describe what it was. We've examined him and nothing seems too much out of the ordinary, other than an allergy of some sort that seems to be affecting his chest area. He's slept for nearly three hours since then so maybe he'll feel a little better when you see him. I would recommend though, that he spends another day or two here, just until he establishes a regular sleep pattern, and when we are sure that he has completely gotten over the shock". "But doctor" Margaret replied, "isn't all this just a little unusual for a near miss accident. I mean it isn't like he was physically harmed is it"! "Maybe Mrs. Hall, but you husband seems disturbed for some reason, and who knows how these things may affect a persons mind when they have faced their own mortality. For now maybe it's best if you see him and talk to him. Then we can talk again afterwards" he said, and pressed a buzzer on his desk, which summoned a nurse within seconds. "Why don't you use my room for a short while, so that you can see him in private. I'm off to complete the remainder of my rounds and won't need it for another hour or so". Margaret thanked him and gratefully drank a cup of tea while she waited for him to be woken and brought to her. Just ten-minutes later a nurse led her bedraggled looking husband in. She tutted to herself. Really, couldn't they have given him something that fitted him a little better. The dressing gown he was wearing was far too big for him and made him appear quite diminutive! Even the pyjamas that he was wearing seemed far too large, she noted and they seemed to pool around his feet. Further musings were halted as their eyes met, and she saw the pitiful look in his eyes. She immediately went over to him and wrapped her arms around him as the nurse left to give them some privacy. It took a few moments for it to sink in but she suddenly knew that it wasn't just the dressing gown that made Martin appear diminutive - she was on a level with him and looking at him eye-to-eye. Before she could follow her thoughts any further she also noticed that something was pressing into her chest, much in the way that she would have expected had she been hugging another female closely. She pulled back and looked a little more closely at that area, and pulled apart the gown. Everything seemed to stand still for her until her eyes gradually moved upwards until they met Martin's, again. "M..Martin!" she stuttered as she looked at him. "W..what is going on - what has happened to you?" she said, on the verge of tears as she saw the desperation in his eyes and being unable to reassure him that all was well. "I..I just don't know. I had a small irritation there before I went back to sleep this morning, a..and now I've got these!" he cried, lifting the small, but definite, swellings that would have looked more at home on a teenage girl. He grabbed Margaret by her hands, scared that she might suddenly flee in horror. "Oh Margaret - p..please don't tell the doctors. They'll want to keep me here and perform tests and the like, I'm sure. I'm certain that being here has got something to do with this and I just want to get away from here. If I don't I think I will go insane. Th..those dreams - my feelings. Help me Margaret - get me back home - NOW!" he pleaded. She ignored his references to the dreams, there would be time to ask him about them later and, again, noticed how his hair was now down below his ears, and she could have sworn that it had grown since she had seen him less than thirty-minutes ago. Whatever was happening was beyond her capabilities of understanding and she suspected that the medical staff here had no better idea of what was causing this than she had. They were not even acknowledging that anything was wrong other than in Martin's mind - they had even referred to it as Martin's delusions! Maybe Martin was right after all, and that he would be better off at home where, at least, they would not be on public display and could think in private about what to do. She pulled away as she determined on a course of action, deliberately refusing to acknowledge that, even to herself, he was beginning to look almost feminine now. * * * * * * * Sally had been unusually quiet Kathie thought, as she looked over the top of the magazine that she was reading as her niece playing on the floor. She gave a wry smile as she watched her talking to her converted doll, telling it off and admonishing it as if it had been real and then continuing with the nursery rhyme that she had been humming herself all day. "Sugar and spice .. and all things nice..that's what littel girls are made of". Sugar and spice ..". It was quite cute in a way, but she wished that she'd sing something else if she had to sing at all. It was beginning to grate a little. Still, she wasn't hurting anyone and it was all harmless, she supposed. She wasn't sure about what she was doing with that modelling knife though. She didn't think that she would have let a daughter of hers play with such a thing but at least she was being responsible with it, if you could call shaving lumps of plastic away from the ex-male model's genital area responsible! It had been bad enough when she had watched her altering the dolls face, making it less angular and smoother, but this! She chuckled to herself. She was doing it so well that she would most probably grow up to be a plastic surgeon or something. Still, she had learnt a long time ago not to interfere in what other people's children did - even if it was your sister's - and went back to her magazine article, about how to snare your man, something she had consistently failed to do over the years. * * * * * * * The drive back had been very quiet, with Margaret concentrating on her driving and Martin trying to bury himself in the passenger seat, becoming increasingly self-conscious about what he looked like. It had taken them nearly two hours before they were walking through their front door and it was only at that point that Martin broke down and sobbed into his wife's arms. "Oh Margaret, what are we going to do - what am I going to do!" he cried in his increasingly high-pitched voice, his face buried into her shoulder. Margaret abstractly noticed that he hadn't seemed to reduce in size any further, he was still on a level with her and that was some consolation she supposed, albeit a scant one. He was still a good six inches less than he had been on the morning he had set off on his fateful trip, and was getting more girl-like by the minute, it seemed. She said nothing, for there was nothing she could think of that wouldn't add to their immediate burden right now, but just let him cry himself dry and she felt him relax into her body. Finally, he pulled himself away from her and went to the bathroom, ostensibly to freshen himself up, but as soon as he got there here he walked over to the washbasin and looked at himself in the mirror. There was no doubt about it - his face had definitely changed since the morning. His jaw was visibly less square than it had been previously, and the lack of any stubble made his face feel baby soft to the touch, as he ran his smaller hand around his chin. As if in a trance he started undoing his shirt that now seemed to swamp him, except for the area immediately around his chest. He kept his eyes tightly shut, not daring to look at his reflection as the shirt fell away from his body. He tried to deny what his body was telling him, but couldn't ignore the sensations that he felt as he became aware of an unfamiliar movement from his chest. He slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head, allowing his mind a few seconds grace until it could take in the sight of the pair of breasts that now hung there. This was no 'puffed up' irritation, these were undeniably a pair of breasts and they had appeared in just a few hours! Intellectually, he could see that they looked no larger than those of a teenage girl who was just blossoming into womanhood, but as his hands cupped and lifted them they felt so large! In addition to this discovery he started to become aware of another change about himself, one that was less spectacular than the first, but just as frightening to him in it's implications. He hadn't noticed before but he seemed to be looking at himself from a subtly different perspective. He noticed that he seemed to be closer to the washbasin and he knew, incredible though it seemed, that he somehow smaller! His legs started to buckle underneath him and he grabbed onto the edge of the washbasin with one hand, to steady himself. His other hand moved with his eyes, down towards his groin, as he started to fear what he might find next, or - perhaps - what he might not find, to be more accurate. He whimpered with frustration as he attempted to undo the buckle of his belt, until his other hand moved, as if by its own volition, to assist him and finally, he stood looking at his boxers. He was already starting to imagine what he might find as his consciousness desperately searched for some sort of sensation which would confirm that his manhood, at least, was still intact, but failed to find any. His trembling hands pulled down his boxers and finally, looking down at himself, he saw that whatever changes had been affecting him had not gone so far as to remove that which had always defined his gender to him. He sank to the floor, his knees finally giving way in his relief, and held his head in his hands and cried, neither hearing the knock on the bathroom door, or seeing his wife as she put her head around it to check that he was all right. She took in the sight of the huddled girl-like figure on the floor, and put her hands to her mouth to stifle her gasp of shock. He hadn't let her see him when he had gotten dressed in the hospital and if she hadn't seen her husband enter the bathroom she most probably wouldn't have recognised him anymore! "Martin - y..you look like .." she started to say. "A girl damn it - yes, say it. I look like a girl!" he cried looking up at her. He hadn't even noticed that the last time that his voice shifted to a higher register that it hadn't returned to normal. She walked towards him and pulled him to his feet, finding it as easy as she had feared it would be. "Well we've got to find out what's doing this to you, and quick" she said, looking down towards his groin and wondering when it was going to follow the pattern of the rest of his body, in it's seemingly unstoppable rush towards becoming female. "Think - think Martin. When did this all start? Have you got any idea at all what could have done this?" she shouted, but received no reply, for he was almost hysterical; in fact he was almost as hysterical as a young girl she thought, and then chided herself for thinking such a thing. Again, preferring action rather prevaricating, she helped him to a chair and then picked up the phone. "I'm going to call Kathie and ask if she can keep Sally for another night and then make us both a cup of tea while we think of what to do next", she said, in a masterpiece of English understatement. * * * * * * * Kathie put down the phone and looked across to Sally, still on the floor with her Sophie. It would be a bit of a nuisance, what with her supposed to be going on a date with the new office squeeze and all this evening, but Margaret had sounded so desperate that she hadn't the heart to refuse her. Why did it have to be tonight of all nights though, that she asked her to look after Sally again? She looked wistfully at the magazine article again, still on the coffee table form earlier, and mumbled to herself: "huh - fat chance I've got of EVER catching a man at this rate"! She looked at Sally, hoping that she hadn't heard her complaining, but she appeared not to have noticed anything, being so engrossed in her project, and then felt guilty. How could she have been so selfish - she knew that Margaret wouldn't have asked for help if she hadn't have really needed to! She just hoped that it wasn't anything to do with Margaret and Martin's relationship - they had always seemed to get on so well together! "Look auntie!" Sally said, pulling up a pair of panties on her dolly and holding to towards her, "she's flat now, just like me"! Kathie wondered what she was talking about at first but when she realised what she was referring to she wondered again, what demons had possessed such an innocent looking girl, to butcher this former icon of male superiority in such a brutal way. Despite her surprise she couldn't manage to stop her laughter as she thought of how she would have enjoyed treating some of the men she had known in a similar fashion. It wasn't the sort of reaction Sally had expected and gave her aunt what is known as an 'old-fashioned' stare before looking back at her doll again. "Yes I know auntie, I suppose it doesn't look right like this and after all, I did want a little sister for a doll, not another lady". Kathie said nothing as she watched Sally undress her 'Sophie' and take the knife to the doll's chest. "Sugar and spice .. and all things nice..that's what little girls are made of". Sugar and spice .." Sally continued, but this time sending shivers up Kathie's spine. She watched in dumb amazement as Sally started to scrape away the modelling clay that had formed the faux bust, and it didn't take too long until the doll was as flat-chested as it had been in it's former existence. As soon as she had finished she started dressing it again, but this time in a made up dress that had been created from the material that her mother had given her from some old clothes of the real Sophie's. After that she rearranged her hair to make it look more child-like, and put a small pair of ankle socks on it, before holding it up to her auntie again. "There, she's a little girl now, and she's just like the real Sophie" she beamed. * * * * * * * Margaret put the phone down and went to the cocktail cabinet to pour herself a drink. She had decided that she needed something more than tea at this moment, but didn't want to offer one to Martin until they could figure out what was wrong with him. Cradling a large brandy in her hand, she went back over to her altered husband and held his hand. Whilst she had been talking to her sister Martin had felt his insides churning in a way that he had never experienced before. He had a horrible feeling that he knew what was happening there, but he hadn't the courage to confirm his suspicions. "I..I think that something just .. well, changed .. down there" he said, indicating towards his groin, "but I just can't bear to look .." he said, going very pale. Margaret was getting past the point of being shocked now. In the thirty minutes since she had taken him out of the bathroom he had changed even further. As she looked at him she knew that there was no way that anyone could now take this creature as anything other than a mature woman any more. His shoulders had slimmed as his hips had widened, and his limbs were now shapely and svelte. She pulled back the bathrobe that he was wearing and looked at his groin. All trace of his manhood had disappeared, and she was sure that she could see the beginning of a cleft forming, about to finish the process that now seemed unstoppable. As she looked up and into his eyes he could see from her expression that his worst suspicions were indeed, confirmed. He had now lost his last vestige of manhood. An oppressive silence dominated the room, with both just about all cried out by now, and neither knowing what to say or do next. Finally, Margaret stood up, and pacing around the room started to quiz him. "Look Martin, I've never heard of anything outside medical science that can change a man into a woman, and even then not so completely and in so little time. You were all right the day that you set off for your meeting on Sally's birthday. Can you think of anything at all that could have done this to you, or anything unusual since then"? Martin paused a moment as he thought, feeling a new determination to address the situation, rather than the passive acceptance he had shown so far. "No, this all seemed to start soon after the accident and when I was taken to hospital, but they really did nothing to me there other than to give me a sedative" he replied, going over that days events again and again, in his own mind. She listened to his softer and girl-like voice, again feeling despair, but showing no signs of her inner turmoil. "Well something must have done this to you. I've heard of spontaneous combustion but never of a spontaneous sex-change"! As she continued her pacing Martin sat in silence, lost in contemplation and playing with the Saint Christopher around his neck. She looked at him again and noticed that he seemed uncomfortable with it, and was rubbing the skin where it had been laying. "Martin, is something wrong with your neck"? "Now that you come to mention it this had been giving me a bit of discomfort over the last few days. It sometimes feels very hot for a moment, and then seems normal again. I hadn't taken much notice of it up until you mentioned it just now - I've had a few more pressing things to worry about other than my over sensitive skin!" he said, cupping his breasts with his hand, and then looking puzzled. "Hey, wait a moment - do these look any different to you?" he said, as he felt their weight and moved them around in his hands. Margaret didn't answer. Something that he had just said had set of a train of thoughts that she, intuitively, knew were significant. It was something to do with Sally but she couldn't quite place it! "Margaret" Martin's voice called her again, "I said do you think these look any different to you. I could swear that they've gotten a little bit smaller. Maybe I'm going to change back!" he said, excited. The excited girl's voice regained her attention, and she went back to her former husband and took a closer look at the breasts he was offering up for her inspection. A few minutes ago she had noticed that the teenage breasts he had developed had grown in to the mature bosom of an older woman but now, well - they looked to be as when she had first noticed them. He was right - they seemed to be shrinking! She held Martin's hands again and said a silent prayer to herself that he was correct, and that somehow, everything might be going back to normal. She didn't really think that it was going to be that easy though - whatever had made this change in him was surely not going to let them off that easily! She took another stiff drink of her brandy and stood up. "It's nine o'clock Martin. We've both had a long and trying day and I'm exhausted. Let's go to bed. I can't face the tension of sitting here and watching you for any sign of other changes. Maybe if we can sleep awhile then we'll notice a bigger change tomorrow. How about it dear"? He was still looking down at himself, almost waiting for a visible sign that his breasts were reducing, but followed Margaret as she pulled him up and led him upstairs to bed. Within minutes both were asleep. Martin having his first dreamless sleep for a while and Margaret, subconsciously, trying to close the connection that she had made earlier. * * * * * * * As they slept Kathie was taking her niece to the spare bedroom, holding Sally's small hand while her other clung to 'Sophie'. She tucked her into bed and sat with her, whilst Sally undressed her doll and reached for the nightdress she had made for her. As she did so the Saint Christopher on 'Sophie' reflected the light of the bedside lamp and caught Kathie's eye. "Hey - what's that - I haven't noticed it before?" Kathie said as she held the doll closer towards her. "Oh that's a good luck necklace or something. Daddy's got one exactly the same" Sally replied, reaching out for the doll so that she could have it back again. "Well I've never seen one that small before. It has got an amazing amount of detail, but it looks so strange on a little girl. I know - when you wake up tomorrow we'll find something a little prettier for it to wear. She can't be a girl if she's wearing something the same as your daddy would wear can she"! "Sophie - it is Sophie not an it!" she said, in an offended tone of voice. She then thought for a moment, pondering on what her aunt had just said, and finally agreed that it made sense. "Okay - we can put something pretty on her and then I really do have a little sister called Sophie again don't I"! Kathie swallowed hard at her niece's words and then just smiled and left the room. Just as the door was closing she heard Sally say, in a sleepy voice: "And then mummy will take me home". * * * * * * * Margaret had slept fitfully during the night, never really waking but always feeling like she was going to. Her mind had been spinning as it sought to unravel the puzzle that she knew held the key to her husband's fate. Finally, just as she was starting to return to consciousness, she found the connection she had been looking for. "Martin!" she croaked, as she rubbed her eyes to remove the sleep from them. "I think I might know what has done this to you. You know that Combat Ken doll that you gave Sally" she asked but got no reply, other than feeling a stirring next to her. "Well she told me that she had burnt herself on it the other day, or to be more precise that she had burnt it on the necklace that the doll was wearing". She received no reply but carried on anyway, talking as much for her own benefit as anything else. "Well I was thinking, that necklace was a Saint Christopher and it is identical to the one that you picked up at the same time that you got that doll. Also, you were saying that you were getting a burning feeling and Sally told me that as well" she rambled, her mind racing ahead of her words. All of a sudden, as impossible as it seemed, she could see everything. Every fibre of her being told her that she had stumbled across what had caused the change to her husband. It was the identical necklaces and how Sally had slowly feminised the doll until it became more and more female. It must have been that, for it was also at the time that Sally was changing Ken that Martin started to metatmorphisise. She realised that Sally must have taken this even further whilst she was staying with Kathie and she strongly suspected that the further changes she must have made would have correlated with the changes in Martin! She sat bolt upright in bed and, now completely awake, turned towards Martin to see if there had been any further changes. Maybe, even now, Sally was restoring the doll to its former state and all would be well again! As she looked around for her husband she was momentarily puzzled. He must have gotten under the covers during the night for she couldn't see anything of him except for a small bulge underneath the bedclothes, and that did not look big enough to be that of either a full-grown man or woman! She pulled the bedclothes back slowly to reveal a small girl, struggling to open her weary eyes. She felt horror-stricken and felt every inch of her skin prickle at the sight of the six-year old girl that looked back at her. Even worse, she immediately recognised the girl and nearly broke down. "Margaret!" the small girl started to say, and stopped at the sound of the childish voice that emanated for her mouth. The little girl pulled herself up, surprising herself with the lightness of her body and, as she looked around, how much bigger everything looked to her. Margaret reached out to her and buried her tear-ridden face into that of the little girl's, squeezing her tightly as if she never wanted to let her go again. Finally though, she pulled away a little and just stared at her daughter Sophie, seemingly returned from the dead. The girl who had been Martin was frozen rigid, and when Margaret easily picked her up she offered no resistance as she felt herself being carried over to a mirror. It took a few moments for the fact that the reflection staring back from the mirror was that of himself, or herself now, and his wife but who else could it be? The little girl felt a warm trickle run down her leg, but neither of them seemed to notice as she broke down into a fit of tears and felt herself being pulled into Margaret's breasts. "Sssshhhh - there, there baby - don't cry. I'll look after you" Margaret comforted the little girl, her maternal instincts becoming an irresistible force to her. The little girl, once Martin, felt herself sinking into the warm safe environment that her wife offered, and was tempted to let it envelope her completely. Just at the point that she might have given way however, some of her male stubborn aggression prompted a minor rebellion within, and she pulled herself together enough to protest. "Margaret. P..please. Find a way - please change me back. I don't want to be a little girl - I want to be your husba