Change for an Archangel Part 1
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A Complete Change Of Strip free porn video
A Complete Change of Strip ? by: Donna Dee
The Sunday morning football games had been under way for some ten minutes
when a Ford Mondeo stopped on the main road by the park. Two men watched
one of the matches from the car before getting out and walking
nonchalantly across the grass towards one of the two pitches. One man was
in a business suit, extremely smart and seemingly affluent, the other in
slacks and a monogrammed T-shirt. "Is that him?" asked the latter.
"Yes, sir," said the man in the suit, "the small lad with the long fair
hair that..."
"Ok, Ok - I can see who you mean, yes, he's a natural on the ball all
right, bit skinny though, needs to put on a bit of weight."
"Michael Owen's not all that big," said the suited man, "about the same
size I would say, just watch him shift."
"Yes, I see what you mean. Go back to the car, leave me here alone, it's
less conspicuous." He did as was suggested leaving the T-shirt to walk
slowly round the pitch showing no more than a cursory interest in the
game. His deceptive manner almost worked, no one realised he was there,
apart from that players mother who didn't miss a trick. She knew right
away that he must be the talent scout who was coming to see her early
that afternoon - and was he ever in for a shock. He watched for another
quarter of an hour, long enough to see Robin score twice, once with his
head as he leapt high in the air to steer the ball past the goalkeeper in
a manner reminiscent of the worlds top centre forwards from a bygone era,
the second when he latched on to a through ball and beat the opposing
goal keeper before he even realised. The scout made due allowance for the
lack of skill displayed by the defense and although he'd never say so, he
knew a good prospect when he saw one. Then he left the park.
Grace Hamilton had seen several people watching the team her son played
for over the last few weeks. There was even someone with a professional
quality camcorder three weeks ago and she knew it was her son that was
attracting all the attention. He was nowhere to be seen by half time.
The man who coached the team - a side from the local pub who were
currently 3rd in the premier division of the parks league, had told her
Robin was good enough to play professionally, but she had her doubts that
he ever would, mainly because he had other interests these days,
interests in which she supported him fully - and not many mothers would
do that. This was his second season in Sunday league football and the 37
goals he scored last season had earned the 'Black Dog Rovers' promotion.
Several sides had tried to poach him but he was loyal to the team and
wouldn't listen.
His team won today, he'd scored another hat trick, and when the final
whistle went he hurriedly changed his boots and ran down the road
opposite the park to his small but comfortable home - he and his mother
lived alone since his father walked out five years ago. As he expected a
hot bath was already run for him and he quickly slipped into the scented
water and sighed contentedly. Using a big sponge he washed himself all
over and, rather lazily, washed his shoulder length hair in the bath
before adding conditioner and rinsing it out under the electric shower
fitted over the bath, after which he roughly toweled it for a few seconds
and gently dried his body adding talcum powder liberally.
Naked, he walked into his bedroom where his mother waited, smiling
lovingly. He looked in the full-length mirror and gently ran his hands
over the mounds that were slowly forming on his chest, sending shivers of
delight through the enlarged nipples. "They're coming on Mum, aren't
they?" he asked, eagerly. Grace smiled at her beautiful child, a pretty
boy who had had appeared feminine from birth, but not so that it bothered
the midwife or the doctor. Several times when he was young she had put
him in dresses - it seemed he liked it as much as she did, and when she
had caught him in her underwear when he was 14, she had been delighted to
encourage him to wear them more often, even under his school clothes on
occasions.
Against that he had a natural talent for football, hence today's visit
from the local talent scout, a visit Robin had said was pointless,
because if he had to chose between becoming a woman and playing football,
then football stood no chance. His mother said that was nonsense that the
human rights act would ensure that 'she' could play professional football
if her sex was all that was preventing it from happening.
"Yes, Robin, they certainly are - there's a difference since last week."
The boy smiled happily, the hormones were working well. Grace had never
imagined that he son would want to be a woman full time - though she had
prayed he would and if it seemed to others that she was wrong to
encourage him, well that was their worry. Robin had convinced her it was
what he wanted and a visit to their doctor seemed to be called for. They
were unable to convince him that this was either natural or desirable,
though he admitted to knowing of other sex change cases brought about by
medical necessity.
He sent Robin to a psychiatrist who talked to him for weeks on end and
even hypnotised him before giving his reluctant approval just four short
months ago and started the treatment - basically hormone injections and
tablets for the first year. In those four months his hips and bum had
rounded out and now his breasts were starting to develop. He didn't need
a bra, yet, but it wouldn't be long. With luck he could manage without
one whilst he was still at school, perhaps until he finished for good in
5 months time, but his physical development came first and if it had to
be then it had to be.
He slipped into a pair of black silk panties just big enough to hide his
genitals; trimmed with lace they matched the 'A' cup-padded bra that his
mother held up for him and then clipped at the back. This was followed by
a teddy and a garter belt before he sat at the dresser and raised his
feet so's his Mum could paint his toenails while he attended to his
fingers. He was delighted with his finger nails, they were just long
enough to look feminine when painted and not be too obvious when he wore
boys clothes, and he would have preferred to do his toenails himself, but
time was of the essence and he appreciated his mother's help. Because
they were in a hurry his toes got just one coat this morning, but there
was no way he'd take short cuts on his fingers. While his toes were
drying, Grace started on his hair brushing it firmly back and fixing it
into the high ponytail that Robin loved so much.
Now it was time to do his face, he did it all by himself these days and
having had nearly three years practice, he did it quite perfectly, and in
any case it gave him so much pleasure to do all the things his mother had
taught him. Foundation smoothed gently into his blemish free skin, there
was no sign of any beard or any other hair to mar his body. He added
peach coloured powder, pink blusher, three shades of eye shadow, thin but
very obvious eyeliner and lashings of mascara to thicken his already bold
eyelashes. His hand was rock steady as he applied a dark red outline to
his mouth with a lip pencil and then filled it in with pink lipstick and
gloss to create a perfect face.
He rolled nylons up his legs, clipped them firmly onto the garter belt
and truly believed they compared favourably to the legs of a model
advertising Pretty Polly stockings in this weeks Woman magazine. A pale
pink blouse and a navy blue skirt were put on before he stepped into some
navy blue shoes with a 3-inch heel and posed sexily for his mother's
inspection. He sprayed perfume in all the right places and then it only
remained for him to apply the final coat of polish to his nails for him
to be perfect. As he began there was a knock at the door - the football
scout was three minutes early. It didn't matter, the plan was for his
mother to interview them first, and since she expected that would take
about half an hour he could give his finger nails a coat of clear high
gloss to finish them off. He thrilled at the thought of how perfect he
looked.
"Now stay here until I call you, Robin darling, I want to get him to make
some sort of commitment before he sees how you look off the field, and
don't worry. Either you will be the first woman to play professional
football for a premiership side or we'll get a fortune from them in the
European court."
Grace walked slowly down to let the visitors in. She herself was a
beautiful woman, tall and elegant, fantastic red hair and was the
original femme fatale until her son had got the dressing up bug himself.
Robin was now fully committed to a complete sex change as soon as the
hormones had done all they were supposed to and had been thrilled when he
was told that it should be possible to complete the change in about
another six months. He almost came in his panties as he lovingly caressed
each nail in turn with the heavily loaded nail polish brush. He tried to
listen to what his mother and the scout talked about.
"Good afternoon gentlemen," said Grace as she opened the door and then
accepted their hands in a firm dry grip. "I trust you enjoyed the game
earlier."
Mike Bailey, the scout for the local club smiled. "How many more did
Robin score before the end?"
"Just one, making his fourth hat trick in five games, some sort of record
I believe. They've gone to second in the league but have two games in
hand. If they win them both they will go top, but there's another 3
months to go before the season ends - mustn't get too cocky I suppose."
"No indeed, Mrs Templeton, there's many a slip, as they say. I was
expecting to see your husband, is he not here?"
"No, Mr Bailey, we are separated, though he takes a great interest in his
son's potential football career, that's why I am recording our
conversation as he will, of course, have a say in any decision we make.
You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all, because I cannot make an offer of any kind that involves any
club. I represent three clubs at varying levels for scouting purposes and
from what I've seen I am in no doubt that at least one of them will offer
him a contract, on junior terms of course, but, as I said, it isn't up to
me."
"Well you can certainly forget junior terms Mr Bailey, Robin is good
enough to play in West Brom's first team now, and whilst I don't expect
him to command top wages, I expect him to be reasonable well paid, at
least a thousand a week for starters."
"I doubt you will get that much, but it isn't up to me. At the same time
I am compelled to agree your demand is not unreasonable, subject to a
trial. But, and it is a big but, premiership football is a damn sight
harder than park football and he will have to prove himself before he
gets a chance at senior level. Where is he, by the way? I thought he'd be
keen enough to be here."
"Yes, I'm sure you did, but he has another interest these days, but he
won't be long, he's just getting ready, I'll give him a call."
Grace called Robin who was standing at the top of the stairs. He had
never been more beautiful in her eyes than he was this afternoon. "Come
along, darling, Mr Bailey is waiting.
Robin walked down the stairs and entered the front room confidently,
smiling brightly, perfectly white teeth showing clearly through his
lipsticked mouth. The two visitors stood at once in obvious appreciation
of the young lady's beauty. "You must be Robin's sister?" said Mike
Bailey.
"No indeed, Mr Bailey," said Grace, "this is Robin, he prefers to dress
this way these days. Beautiful, isn't he?"
"If this is your idea of a joke, madam, then its one I do not share. Are
you telling me that this young lady is Robin wearing a dress, or was the
young person I saw playing football really this young lady?"
"The answer to both those questions is yes, Mr Bailey. This is Robin,
although we shall soon be spelling it with a y instead of an I, just as
soon as his sex change is completed in about six months time. He has
always been more female than male - his doctor will confirm that, so in a
sense this young lady was indeed playing football earlier today."
The two scouts were dumfounded to see his perfectly manicured finger
nails as Robin offered his hand to each of them in turn. They were
intoxicated by his beauty and by the perfume he was wearing. They would
never in a million years have suspected that she was really a he.
"You said he was to undergo a sex change operation soon - will that be a
full sex change?"
"Oh yes, hopefully Robyn should be able to have children when it is all
completed, though whether or not she does is in the hands of God, of
course, but even so, everything possible will have been done to ensure
that she can give birth when the time is right."
"Then I am sorry we have all wasted our time because women cannot play in
any of the main football leagues. I will bid you good afternoon madam,
you too young man, er lady, and the very best of luck."
"Why can't my soon to be daughter play in the English leagues?"
"The rules don't allow it."
"Show me where it says that," demanded Grace.
"I don't know that I can show it to you in writing - it is one of those
unwritten rules that have been in force since time immemorial."
"What do you suppose the European Court of Human Rights will have to say
about that, Mr Bailey?"
"That, fortunately, is not my problem."
"But it might become your problem. Robin here is the person you saw
playing earlier today - the person you were prepared to recommend to the
premiership club you represent. Now, because he intends to become a girl
you say you cannot do so." Pointing to the recorder she said, "It's all
on tape, Mr Bailey, and it's going to cost someone a lot of money."
"That's preposterous, madam - girls do not play football for English
premier clubs and that's all there is to be said."
"Then that must be sexual prejudice and is illegal."
"Football is a contact sport and injuries do occur. If Robyn is as dainty
as this when the change is complete, what chance would she have of
avoiding injury against the likes of Sol Campbell and Tony Adams - they
are twice her size."
"Yes, and twice as slow."
"Well try if you want - but I cannot see you having much chance of
success. Good afternoon to you both, especially you young ma... lad...
young Robin.
When they had gone, Robin sat down and examined her nails, gently filing
the ends of two fingers to make them perfect.
"Well, if you can't be a footballer then you shall be a film star my
darling, a real screen siren."
"Oh yes, Mummy, I think I'd like that much better.
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