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Big Sister free porn video
Big Sister
I knew my step mother was trouble when I first met her. I was 15 at the time,
and it seemed odd that someone older, richer and more sophisticated would be
so interested in my father. But she insisted that he was just what she was
looking for, and my father seemed to adore her. And given that my mother had
been out of the picture for years, I was happy that my dad found someone he
could settle down with, I guess. He really was the only parent I'd ever known,
given he and mom were in college when they had me, and she split after
graduation. But we did okay, especially after dad started to become better
known as an artist. Stephanie, my step mom, had run galleries in several
cities for years, and that's how they met. Dad ran two small, but successful
galleries and never would sell them to Stephanie, no matter how often she
asked.
Anyway, he was making enough money to send me to a good prep school, and when
I left to go back to school in September, I remember the site of the two of
them waving to me as I got on the plane. Dad was about my height -- 5'6", and
Stephanie was a good three inches taller, and towered over him in heels. It
was the last time I'd ever seem him as the dad that raised me.
We spoke every Sunday, and he told me about how Stephanie was helping to get
him in shape, with vitamins and exercise, and how he'd never felt so calm and
relaxed. I could hear it in his voice -- he had this kind of dreamy quality
now, and he was talking about how he was starting to look and feel younger. He
was even sounding younger, too. His voice was softer and a bit higher, and he
was saying "like" and "you know" as much as me. Now, he was a little
overweight, true, but at 35, he already looked ten years younger than his age.
It wasn't until I came home for winter break that I saw just how much he
really had changed. Wow. He definitely wasn't overweight now, but instead was
very slender and youthful looking. His skin was flawless, which apparently
came from the laser treatments he'd been receiving. As a side benefit, he said
he wouldn't have to shave again, and how much he "adored" not having to use a
razor again. Adored? My dad said adored? Now, he was an artist, but I'd never
thought of him as ... well ... gay, you know?
And there were little things, such as how he did all the cooking when I was
home. I grew up on his cooking, but Stephanie and he used to share the duties,
and now he was like a proper housewife, always planning menus and cleaning and
such. His hair was longer, too. Again, artists have long hair, but now his was
an inch or two past his shoulders -- just as long as mine. All he needed was
bangs and given our hair is the same light brown color, we'd have identical
heads of hair. He even asked me what shampoo and conditioner I used, and
commented a lot on how much he liked my outfits. He doted on Stephanie like
she was a queen, and she obviously loved all the attention. But he obviously
was totally happy, and said his combination of diet, vitamins and hypnosis
(for relaxation) was working wonders. I noticed every night he'd slip on
headphones and listen to his hypnosis tapes while he slept.
I came back briefly for Easter break, and that was when I first really got
scared. My dad greeted me at the door with a kiss on the cheek, and I
distinctly smelled a whiff of perfume. Worse, it was MY perfume. And remember
I said that all he needed was bangs for his hair to look like mine? He had
them now! He looked even younger, a fact he attributed to some face creams
Stephanie was insisting he use. Insisting? He just smiled and shrugged and
said Stephanie obviously new what was best, given how "absolutely awesome" he
was looking and feeling.
But the weirdest stuff was the physical changes. I had just turned 16 and was
noticing I was finally getting some nice curves -- I'd filled out to a B cup,
and my hips and rear were round and cute, and flaired out from my waist, even
though it was still a little chubby there. I looked so hot in low-rise jeans,
I practically lived in them. I noticed the same curves forming in my dad! OMG!
Though he wore baggy tops, when the fabric clung just so, I would see little
breast buds like I had when I was 12! And his rear was fuller and rounder, and
worse, he was wearing pants with no back pockets, which made him look even
more feminine! It wasn't my imagination, because one afternoon the three of us
went shopping, and while Stephanie and my dad paid for some clothes, a clerk
said, "Do you want me to include these in the purchases your mother and sister
are making?" MY SISTER!?!
The night before I left I confronted him on the changes, and he became very
serious. "Amy," he said, "I know I'm becoming a different person. But it's
really the person I was meant to be. Stephanie says that now that my body is
healthy for the first time, it's finding a new level of well-being. And I must
simply accept the changes and do the best I can to live the life I was meant
to."
"But Dad!" I practically screamed, "You're turning into a sissy! You don't
talk to any of your old friends any more either or work at your stores! Your
whole life is Stephanie and this house!"
He blushed crimson, and said in a soft, dreamy voice, "I know. But I'm very
content. And Stephanie loves me this way. She's bi, did I ever tell you? And
she says I'm not only becoming the person I was meant to be, I'm turning into
her ideal mate. Isn't that sweet?"
Well, at least it was making more sense now. Stephanie was allowing him, maybe
even convincing him, to become more feminine, to suit her own strange tastes.
I just wondered why dad would go along with it so passively. I went back to
school and studied hard for my final exams, but I couldn't wait to get home
again that summer before I began my summer job at the shore. I didn't talk to
my dad on the phone, because his increasingly feminine voice, and insistence
on talking about the boys I was dating and fashion and makeup and stuff, had
become just too weird for me.
When I finally returned home in June, I was met at the airport by Stephanie,
who had a very grave look on her face. "Your father is undergoing something of
an identity crisis, Amy," she said. "Apparently, well, this will be hard for
you to accept. But, apparently your father is a transsexual."
"That can't be!" I half screamed, half sobbed. "My dad, he's always loved
women. He ... my ..." I broke down in tears, and Stephanie put an arm around
to comfort me, and held me close.
I still didn't really believe it, but when I got home, I received the shock of
my life. Standing at the door, in a summer dress that I left in the back of my
closet when I left for school, was my ... dad. He looked embarrassed and he
unconsciously laid his hand across his ... chest. His ... clevage. Yes, my dad
now had boobs, smaller than mine, which had grown to a C cup, but a definite B
cup and exposed by the low-cut bra top dress. It was pink, and precious and
flirty and ... my dad was wearing it. His hair was long now, longer than mine,
and curled but held back with barrets. Admittedly I looked older than my 16
years, but now we looked to be about the same age. His legs were slender and
cute like mine, and he even had the same knees -- with little dimples.
"Amy dear," Stephanie whispered while we were still in the car, "This has been
so hard on your ... father. But his psychaitrist says it's best not to
traumatize him by denying his sexuality. Call him Trisha, and just treat him
like ... well ... treat him like he's your sister." I cautiously walked up to
him, and gave him a little hug, feeling our breasts touch --- the second
weirdest feeling I've ever had. "Hi Trisha," I said. "That's such a pretty
dress." To my shock, he grabbed the edges and curtsied, lifting it up just
enough so I could see his pink panties underneath. "Thank you Amy!" he said in
a voice that sounded almost identical to mine -- almost identical, because it
was higher than mine. A fine, girly alto.
"Trisha," Stephanie said, "Will you show Amy your new room, and your beautiful
clothes?"
I followed my dad up the stairs, and couldn't help but notice how his hips had
blossomed and how they swayed as he walked. When we reached his room, I
realized that it was almost a carbon copy of my room, right down to the pink
and white colors, and the frilly canope bed. He had a huge vanity that was
stocked with ... all of my brands of cosmetics and perfumes. It was then I
noticed he was wearing light makeup, including foundation, blush and mascara.
Once again, I smelled my perfume -- Heavenly by Victoria's Secret. Now that we
were alone, I made him sit on the bed, and tell me exactly what was going on
in his life.
He began by saying that the psychiatrist Stephanie had recommend to him had
put him in deep hypnosis, and had discovered that he was really a woman
trapped in a man's body. As evidence, the shrink pointed to his hair styles,
his feminine figure and his increasingly feminine manner of speaking and
acting. I thought this was a little of a chicken and egg argument, given he
hadn't started acting this way until he met Stephanie. I mean, who's to say
this wasn't part of Stephanie's grand plan to turn him into her ideal lover?
Dad wouldn't hear any of that -- Stephanie, he said, had made all his dreams
come true.
"But Dad, why are you wearing my clothes, and using my makeup and everything?"
I asked.
He replied that since he hadn't grown up as a girl, it was best if he could
pattern himself after a girl he knew -- the psychiatrist suggested me. "I hope
it's okay," he said, though I got the feeling that he didn't care what I
thought on the subject. "Amy, Stephanie is taking us out to dinner tonight, so
we really need to get ready," he said, and promptly stood up, and took off the
dress right in front of me!
There was my dad, just in a push up bra and a lacey thong, with his hair
swishing this way and that! He started rummaging around his closet and it was
almost like looking in a mirror. The same slight chubby waist, the same bubble
butt, and the same hair cascading down the shoulders. Only now his was
streaked with blonde, which made it even sexier than mine. All of a sudden I
started feeling jealous, but I wiped that thought from my mind when I realized
how weird it was. Only our faces were different, though we could definitely
pass as sisters. His still looked a little masculine, though with his smooth
skin and full lips, you had to look very hard to see. He proceeded to hold up
various dresses to see which one I liked best -- some of them were my dresses,
some of them were new -- and we decided on a cute skirt and blouse combination
for him (I made sure it wasn't low cut, because the sight of my father's
breasts was something I couldn't stand while eating), and I went with white
capris and a pink top.
He giggled like a girl the whole time, and seemed genuinely hurt when I
wouldn't dress in front of him.
At the restaurant we chatted like girl friends, and while I was freaked out,
it was about to get weirder. A guy I dated from town, who was now a college
freshman, came up to our table and I had to introduce my father as, "Trisha,
my sister." Ken was actually looking pretty good, and asked me to go to a
party with him the next night, which I quickly accepted. The less time I had
to spend with my "sister" the better. My dad seemed puzzled by the whole
thing, like he couldn't believe his daughter would actually go out with a boy.
Thank goodness he at least still liked women. Though I noticed Stephanie was
becoming more masculine looking her self -- shorter hair, and heavier. There
was no way she would pass for anything but my dad's mother now, given she
looked every one of her 40 years, and dad now looked around 19.
So it was off to my summer job, and I made sure I didn't even answer my dad's
calls all summer long. I dreaded stopping by the house before returning to
school. His messages sounded so sad -- he really missed me "sooooo much" he
kept saying. I managed to go straight to school from my job, but figured I'd
see him again at Christmas break. Meanwhile, Ken and I kept up a long distance
relationship, though he visited me at school several times. The sex was
incredible, and I realized I was falling in love.
Even though I tried to mentally prepare myself for the trip home, I still
almost fainted when "Trisha" answered the door. It was as though he squeezed
years of blossoming into six months. His hair was longer and completely blonde
now, and fell in soft waves and layers around his face, shoulders and down to
the middle of his back. He must have had extensions, but they were done so
well, it looked perfectly natural. He was wearing a red knit dress that was
very low cut, and which hugged his ample curves and ended at mid thigh. The
clevage was unbelievable, and I realized that my dad must have had breast
implants. He was a d cup, and probably a dd cup. A push up bra made his
breasts practically spill out of the dress, and under a blonde lock that fell
over his right breast I realized that a little nipple was peeking out. He
practically squealed upon seeing me, threw his slender arms around me and
hugged me tight. It was only then when I could see his face up close, that I
realize he'd had plastic surgery there, as well. His nose was smaller and
cuter than mine. His lips were fuller. His jaw was more elegant. If I was cute
-- and I am -- he was gorgeous. A perfect teenage hearthrob. And my father.
And worse, he now had a tiny waist! I guess when he got his breasts he had his
waist narrowed. I mean, it was like a 23, and I was a 27 or a 28.
Stephanie came in and hugged me too, and I realized that she was slightly more
masculine now, but still looked like a statuesque woman. "Trisha, show Amy who
came to visit her," Stephanie said, and my dad sashayed into the den, hips
swinging and boobs jiggling, where Ken was sitting. "Ken knew you were coming
home, and decided to surprise you!" my father purred, and I noticed that Ken's
eyes actually lingered on my dad's ass before he stood up to give me a hug.
Then again, I was just in jeans and a sweater, and my dad was in his sex
kitten dress. I quickly pulled Ken out of the house and we went to dinner.
When I came home at night, my dad came to kiss me goodnight and have a "girl's
chat", and while he seemed to have adjusted well to his situation, I wondered
why his speech had become ... well ... like a 15 year old girl's. It was like
as his boobs grew, his IQ had dropped, and now I was the big sister. Speaking
of his boobs, they were in full display in his little baby blue see-through
baby doll nighty. His nipples were actually bigger than mine, which I suppose
is because they were stretched over the implants. They got hard several times
for the hour or so we chatted, and I was amazed how far they stuck out. I
mean, in a sweater that would look awesome. I was mesmorized by them, and I
noticed he noticed I couldn't take my eyes off them. Instead of covering them
up as he had before, he'd take deep breaths so they really stuck out, and
flipped his hair so it kind of fell over them in a cute blonde cascade. I
noticed that not even a bulge showed in his panties this time, and wondered
how that could have been possible. We talked a lot about Ken, which at first
made me uncomfortable, but given there was so little of my dad left, I soon
started talking to him as though he were my sister or girl friend. Oh, and his
teeth were capped -- they were white and perfect and stood out to pearly
perfection behind his super full red lips. Each ear was pierced twice, and he
sported kitten and gold hoop earrings.
In a way that chat was closure. My dad was gone, and Trisha was here to stay.
I was the big sister now, and I found myself over that week counseling her in
makeup and fashion, and we even talked about what colleges he would go to --
he wanted to go back and get an art degree, something he'd always dreamed of.
We even talked about going to the same school -- though that was kind of
creepy to me -- when I went to college in a year. Something would happen
though so that would be the last thing I wanted.
After I left, Ken and I still were going hot and heavy, though his studies
were keeping him from seeing me as often. When I went home for Easter break, I
saw his car parked out front, and I couldn't wait to get him alone so we could
resume our romance. This time nobody met me at the door, but I was several
hours early, so I really didn't think anything of it. I heard some noises from
upstairs, and followed them into dad's room. I thought the sounds were of love
making, so I didn't burst in, but instead peeked in, figuring I'd see
Stephanie and my dad. Honestly, my curiousity was aroused, given I couldn't
imagine them together in that way. What I saw was so traumatic, I can hardly
even talk about it today.
My dad was kneeling on all fours on his bed, his head a mass of blonde curls
and his big white boobs were bouncing all over his chest. The sound I'd heard
was his high pitched moaning, and the bed shaking as he was being pounded from
behind by ... Ken. My Ken. He was screwing dad so hard that he was sweaty and
red with the effort. I knew that look, and I knew he was about to cum. Ken was
saying, "Yes Trisha, yes Trisha, who's your daddy," as he spanked my dad's
bubble butt and reached in front to pinch his big pink nipples while he did
him harder and harder.
Dad's face was a picture of ecstacy. The capper was Ken saying, "Oh, I love
you baby," and dad squealing, "I love you too, honey!" As pretty as can be.
Then Ken let loose, pulling out and spraying cum all over dad's ass. I guess
he thought dad could get pregnant or something. If he only knew. Then he lay
down next to dad, cuddling him and wiping the cum off Trisha's ass with his
finger, then feeding it to my dad who greedily sucked it off. He stroked his
hair and told my dad that was the best ever. And asked him if they should tell
me that they were engaged when I came later today, or if they should break it
to me slowly.
I was furious and hurt and embarrassed, and I burst into the room and told
them both exactly what I thought of them. It took me months to calm down, but
I finally did forgive dad. He was such a sad case now, I had nothing but pity
for him. He now worked as a clerk in one of the galleries he used to own, and
it finally became clear to me that this had been Stephanie's plan all along.
To turn my dad into a blonde teen bimbo so she could have his stores.
I was the maid of honor at their wedding. After all, I am the big sister, and
that's what big sisters do. Stephanie gave dad away, and finally admitted to
me that turning dad into Trisha was just a big powertrip to her. Still, she is
paying for my college, and I do have a baby sister now. Speaking of babies,
Stephanie has some of her eggs harvested and fertilized by Ken's sperm, and a
surrogate brought the baby to term -- the baby that is now Trisha's since she
can't have them. When last I saw my sister Trisha, she was breast feeding. Her
huge boobs were even bigger, and she was being sucked dry by a greedy little
copy of Stephanie.
Vicky
- 22.05.2022
- 8
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