One Handed Tales 6 Gemma s Hallowe en Husband
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One-Handed Tales #3: No More Trousers free porn video
One-Handed Tales #3: No More Trousers
By Sarcastic Slut
Oh dear. I really should have done the washing up when I promised
shouldn't I? I knew Diane was getting annoyed at me not doing
enough housework but I didn't pay much attention.
One day she came back home and I had not done any housework and
had instead spent the day sitting about reading. She was angry. I
had no job at the moment, money was incredibly tight and she was
working all sorts of hours to pay the bills. When I gave some
pathetic excuse about most of my few pairs of trousers being in
the wash and not wanting to get the almost decent pair I was
wearing dirty I shouldn't have been surprised that she saw
straight through the excuse and realised that I just hadn't
bothered.
"Didn't want to ruin them?" she yelled, "I'll show you ruining
them!" She grabbed the remains of a cup of tea from that morning
and threw it at me, soaking me in cold brown liquid. I jumped up
and hurriedly removed the trousers.
"I'm sorry," said Diane, "I was just suddenly angry."
"That's okay," I replied.
"Here, I'll go wash them for you." She took them upstairs to the
sink while I took my book into the living room and sat there in
just my underpants and T-shirt. When she returned I heard her
yell again. "Couldn't you even have cleaned up the tea I threw?
Gaaah!" She turned and stormed back upstairs. She came down a
minute later with the pair of trousers. She had apparently cut
them to shreds and was stuffing them in the bin.
I apologised and we made up before bed. Unfortunately, the next
day I didn't really do much housework either. What's worse, I had
forgotten to unload the washing machine. Diane went to it to
retrieve a blouse and could smell that all the clothes were damp
and smelly.
"My best blouses! I'll never get the smell of damp out of it. I
don't believe you sometimes!" In a rage she threw all the clothes
into a bin bag and took it out to the bins. "If you can't look
after your clothes, you don't deserve to have any. And you
certainly need to take more care over mine, how on Earth am I
supposed to go out and work if I have nothing decent to wear? How
can I afford to buy more clothes? I've had to throw away some of
yours as well and we definitely can't afford any more for you."
She was correct. We had no money at all to spare. I was wearing a
pair of cut down jeans and an old scruffy T-shirt. Diane had just
thrown my damp smelly clothes away meaning that apart from this
pair of shorts, all I had was a suit and a pair of trousers,
which were too tight for me, but I was keeping just in case I
lost some weight.
"We've got no money and now I have to go buy some more blouses
for work and find a way of buying you more clothes as well." She
began to cry and I tried to comfort her.
"I don't need any more clothes, I have these shorts and a few T-
shirts. I promise to be more careful with your clothes in future.
I'm so sorry Diane."
That wasn't exactly the truth. Nearly every item of clothing I
owned was wearing out. My socks and underpants were al frayed, my
T-shirts had holes in, even the cut down shorts were four years
old and nearly falling apart but what could we do? We had no
money and her need was greater than mine.
I really tried to make it up to her over the next few weeks,
doing all the housework before she arrived home, being extra
careful with her clothes. Finally the end of the month came and
she went shopping to get more clothes for work.
When she returned she had bought herself three new blouses,
several pairs of tights, a new bra and a couple of packs of
panties. She handed one of the packs to me. "These were on
special offer and I know yours are falling apart."
I just stared open mouthed at the 3 pack of pastel coloured
cotton, lace edged panties she handed me.
"You have only got yourself to blame that we can't afford new
clothes for you and this way we can share them and save money."
"But they're women's panties!"
"And? Got any better ideas? Feel free to go buy your own
underwear with your own money."
I looked down, she knew very well that I had no money at all and
was being supported by her. I knew that I would have to wear the
panties.
A week or so later, I was doing the laundry again. I didn't need
to go out so I was wearing just a T-shirt and a pale blue pair of
the panties Diane had given me. Both my shorts and my suit
trousers were in the wash and when I removed them I found that
somehow I must have managed to spill bleach on the trousers.
Patches of them were white and there were a few holes in them.
Made of light material as they were, they were all but useless. I
sat and cried and that's how Diane found me when she got home.
I hated having no money, my last pair of trousers was ruined and
my shorts had been patched and sewn so many times now that they
were almost at the end of their useful life. Diane comforted me
and sat me down in a chair. She ruffled my hair and kissed me and
promised that one day it would get better again, when I got a job
and we had more money. She said that we would have to be even
more careful with money now in order to buy me a new suit for job
interviews.
Still sobbing I asked what I was going to wear until then. She
led me silently upstairs and I sat on the bed as she went through
her wardrobe. At first I resisted the idea of wearing women's
trousers but what else could I do? I was already in women's
panties and had nothing else to wear.
I finally agreed and we tried every single pair of trousers,
jeans, Capri pants etc she owned. The only thing that came
anywhere near fitting me was a pair of hotpants, which were
incredibly tight and cut into my thighs and made it impossible to
move without risking splitting them.
I started to cry again. Diane told me to hush and that we would
sort something out. She went back to her wardrobe and pulled out
a long black skirt, which she hardly ever wore. She handed it to
me. "This has an elasticated waistline and will fit where my
trousers wouldn't.
"No way!" I said. "I can't wear a skirt.
"Okay, you can stay in just your panties until we can afford a
suit and then stay in your panties until we can afford you some
trousers."
"But..."
"What else can you do? You're already wearing panties, we might
as well share other clothes and save money."
Diane gradually talked me into the skirt. Over the next couple of
months, she gradually talked me into her old blouses, tights, her
flat shoes for round the house and her ribbons to tie back my
growing hair which we could not afford to get cut and did not
dare attempt ourselves.
Several times I found myself horribly embarrassed by having to
answer the front door dressed in skirts and blouses but still
being obviously a man. Diane took it upon herself to teach me
makeup so that at least I would not be stared at, laughed at or
made fun of when I answered the door.
One day, someone came to the door handing out leaflets for a new
recruitment agency in the area. I couldn't tell her I was a man
and she was very insistent and talked her way into the house
where she gave me all sorts of information about her company and
what they could do. I've never been very good at saying no to
people and found myself promising that I would arrange an
interview. She said her company's policy was to come round to
people's houses to deal with them as it was more friendly and
showed that they cared more.
Diane was thrilled when she came home and found out about it and
decided that we would go shopping for a suit at the weekend. We
had virtually no spare money but she had managed to save a little
bit and we hoped to find a suit cheap enough to afford.
It was horrible going shopping for a suit. I was forced to wear
one of Diane's skirts and blouses, which meant also wearing
makeup and one of her coats. We hoped to find a suit cheap enough
in the right size that we could take home for me to try on and
exchange if it didn't fit. Unfortunately all the suits seemed to
cost at least ?100. We had only about ?50 we could afford to
spend on one. We were starting to get desperate when we spotted a
sign saying 'Suit Sale - Last day, 75% off everything!'
We hurried to the shop to find it was a women's clothes shop.
Diane stood dithering for a minute outside when we realised then
said, "Come on," and led me inside before I could protest. I
objected but she was soon taking skirt suits from the racks to
hold against me.
"But Diane, I can't wear a woman's suit!"
"Why not? You're wearing a skirt and blouse."
"But that's only until we can afford to buy some more clothes."
"Well the only way we'll be able to afford new clothes for you is
if you get a job and the only way you'll get a job is if we buy
you a suit to wear and the only suits we can afford right now are
these."
"But..."
"But nothing. You either choose a suit we can afford and try to
get a job or I'm leaving you. I've had enough of not having money
and having to support you. You can get a job as a woman for a
while until we've saved up some money then you can buy some men's
clothes and get a man's job."
So I found myself in the changing room trying on a succession of
skirt suits in feminine cuts and colours. I asked Diane to pick
me out a trouser suit but she said that the one I tried on didn't
make me look enough like a woman. Also, she said, she might have
to borrow it for work sometimes and she wanted a skirt suit. She
told me that if I didn't like it I could always use my own money
and buy my own suit. She knew I didn't have any money at all.
Two days later I was wearing the pale grey suit with it's short,
tight, skirt with a daring side split, grey pumps, my best effort
at makeup and my hair tied prettily in a ribbon when the lady
from the recruitment agency came. We talked and I filled out
forms and she promised me work starting the next week as an
office junior doing basic filing, faxing and things of that
nature. It was not what I was hoping for but at least it would be
money coming in. The downside was that I would have to be dressed
as a woman for the job as that is how I applied.
The job went great and I soon got used to being treated as a
woman by my colleagues and found the skirt actually quite
comfortable after I'd got over the terror of being out in public
in it. Soon payday came. I'd arranged to have my wages paid into
Diane's account as mine was in a male name. Diane said she'd take
care of the money, making sure we saved some and spent it wisely
and promised to buy me a few new clothes with it.
She arrived home with shopping bags. I rushed to them, hoping to
find trousers but was disappointed to find a skirt, two new
blouses and a matching bra and panties set. I asked what was
going on and she replied that an office girl's wages were not
enough for me to quit, buy a load of new clothes and wait for
another job. I would have to be doing this job as a woman for a
while and would need some feminine things to keep me going, even
though that would use some of the money and mean I was stuck as a
woman for longer.
When I was offered a promotion a few months later I was
overjoyed. Surely the pay rise would be enough to afford some
male clothes, but no. Diane decided I needed some smarter new
skirts and blouses for work as I was in a more senior position
now. When I was promoted again and she insisted on buying me even
more women's clothes and paying for a woman's hairstyle, I
suddenly realised that I enjoyed my job as an office girl, that
Diane had no intention of letting me back into trousers and that
I was now stuck as a woman. Oh well, at least I have enough spare
money this month to buy Diane and me matching baby doll nighties
as a surprise for her.
Fawn
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