Transformed for Life Part 1
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Transformed For Life - Part 2 free porn video
TRANSFORMED - FOR LIFE! Part 2
So, there I was. A 25 year old, totally inexperienced transvestite,
sitting alone in a grand house in the Cotswolds, totally away from home
and anyone who knew me. I was in the residence of an admittedly, even
to the straightest of guys, attractive and charming older man who was
offering me all of his wife?s possessions - maybe even her previous
role, if things worked out as Lawrence planned and I, just perhaps, had
fantasised.
However, I was shaking at the hugeness of this, of the potential
resolution of the dreams and fantasies that I had nursed from as far
back as I could remember. Here I was, being given the opportunity to
step into another woman?s shoes, quite literally, and build a
comfortable and glamorous life for myself as a lady of leisure. Of
course, I then snapped myself back into the very pressing reality. Did
I, could I, go ahead with this?
I sat there for a while, finishing the coffee that had been made for
me. I stood up and walked around the oak and leather clad drawing room,
looking at the collection of sporting prints on the walls and various
photographs propped up on ornate dressers and cabinets. There was one,
I assumed, of Lawrence?s ex-wife: a very striking woman, standing in
front of a marquee, a long satin evening gown flowing around her
d?colletage and falling in flounces around her ankles; another of her
beside a horse, impressively attired in hunting pink and tight
breeches, showing her well formed legs which ended in some surprisingly
stimulating deep brown riding boots. Could this life potentially await
me, I wondered?
I found myself next to a very well stocked bar and, realising that I
had quickly gulped my way through the scotch I?d provided myself with
for my tentative journey, poured myself a large gin and tonic. Thinking
to myself that I?d be a total fool to turn on my heels and flee, thus
throwing away a situation that I never thought could ever present
itself to me, I decided that I would prepare myself for Lawrence?s
return that night. I shuddered as the idea of a whole room of exquisite
feminine clothing at my disposal briefly crossed my mind. One more gin
and tonic, I thought (no point drinking masculine drinks like scotch if
I was going to give being a lady a go, and it was after midday!) and I
walked into the corridor and ascended the wide, heavily carpeted
staircase.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I saw a corridor similarly decorated to
the one below. Several doors led off to rooms either side. I checked
the first one, and saw a large king size, four postered bed in the
middle of a huge, beautifully lit but rather gothic room. This, I
assumed, must be the main bedroom, where Lawrence and his wife must
have slept.
Inquisitive, I opened a few of the wardrobes, but to my disappointment
found nothing but suits and jackets, trousers, the odd dinner jacket
and tuxedo, and items of male underwear. Looking at the bureau beside
the bed I saw a photograph of Lawrence and a couple of books. I walked
around to the other side of the bed. Whereas the pillow on Lawrence?s
side had evidently had a head resting in it the night before, the
pillows on the other side were still freshly plumped. A photograph lay
face down; I picked it up and saw it to be the same woman as
downstairs. Poor guy, I thought - he obviously couldn?t quite let his
wife go, however much she had hurt him. It was then that I saw a note,
which had to be left for me.
Dear Susanna,
I am glad you have come this far, I assume it means you will stay
a while? I have moved Melissa?s clothing from this room, I cannot
stand to be too close to them, but nor could I stand to throw
them out.
At the end of the corridor, on the right, is a guest room. Her
clothes and personal items are in there - please feel free to
treat it as your own.
Yours, Lawrence.
Well, that was it. With the rush of adrenaline I was now feeling,
tinged perhaps by the G&Ts, I veritably skipped out of the marital
bedroom and down the corridor to what I had been told was my room.
I tentatively pushed open the door and gasped in delight. Here was a
pastel coloured room, with ornate, rococo curtains, a delicate French
chest of drawers, deep carpet, deliciously flouncy, satin and lace
bedspread and what appeared to be a walk-in wardrobe. This was the sort
of thing I had read of in some of my favourite stories on the web but
here it was now, bigger and more amazing in real life!
Opening the door to the wardrobe, I entered into a room almost as large
as the bedroom. Surrounding me were rails of frocks, ranging from
pretty summer dresses to dazzling ballgowns and cocktail dresses, from
tight little Lycra numbers to flowing examples in satins, silks and
velvets, some figure hugging, some flared out by delicate lace and
taffeta underskirting. I saw two rails full of skirts; again, some were
long and flared some short and tight. There were skirts evidently meant
for business wear, tight-fitting, pin striped or plain navy ones. There
were short, flirty and girlish pleated skirts in fashionable checks. A
few casual denim skirts were the only concession to comfort that I
could see. Then there were the blouses, again in the same dazzling
array: business blouses, delicately and low-buttoned in satin, more
flirtatious ones in opaque lace, gypsy style ones meant for the summer
that showed the midriff. There was so much! This woman?s wardrobe must
have cost more to maintain each month than I made in a year!
Then I turned, hands trembling, to the drawers. Inside the top drawer I
found piles of knickers. All were made of either satin or lace, from
skimpy little thongs to French knickers and some control briefs, all
decorated with pretty bows and details. Below that was a drawer of
bras. Most, I noticed, seemed to match the knickers in the drawer
above: low cut satin wonderbras, strapless ones, fuller ones. Of
course, my search continued. I was to find a beautiful array of
hosiery, most still fresh in their packs - here was a lady who didn?t
need to launder much! I found slips, flimsy organza numbers, slithering
satin ones, all ending in lacy flounces and frills. Then the
petticoats, all gathering into a size 10 waist. Then the basques, six
of them in all: lacy black and white ones, little waist clinchers, a
simply stunning Victorianesque example with heavy underwiring and
ribbons, a jade and gold showgirl?s one. How could this Melissa have
ever left?
My mind had completely forgotten what was going on around me, I was
feeling so aroused, yet strangely non-sexual, just more alive and
excited than I could remember being in a long time. By the time I had
uncovered the glorious nightwear, the long and flowing satin gowns with
delightful lace inserts, the flimsy and provocative baby dolls and
shorter nighties, I was in another world. I just knew I had to get
showered and prepared. I knew that, for today and for tonight at least,
I was going to be a woman, for myself if not for Lawrence.
To be continued...
Many thanks to all who provided comments on part one of this story.
This part was written many months ago, and I then rather lost the
motivation and did not finish it.
Of course, I do still intend to, and am hoping that by posting this
shortened second section, I may get some further inspiration.
As before, I welcome all comments...
Alma
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