A quick fuck in the back seat during Fund Raising
- 2 years ago
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Trust Fund Babe free porn video
It wasn't really that Donny was dumb - just oblivious. He never noticed
that the rest of us had limits on what we could spend. Even though I was
his best friend - sometimes his only friend - the first I found out about
his huge trust fund was when he was able to move into his own place in a
nice neighborhood right outside of his art school.
"This is a really nice place," I said. "The rent must be something
terrible."
"Oh, I wouldn't know about that. My parents are taking care of all of it.
Turns out the price would dig into my principal."
"Principal? You have a trust fund? Damn, Don, awesome!"
"Yeah, they can't always be there just to write me a check. What sucks is
that they won't let me live on my own - they trust me not to dig into my
funds and all, but they want to make sure someone else is there."
"This is close enough to school that I could pull it off, and if I get
into the school it'll be great for me. You think they'd be OK with us
being here together?"
"Oh, sure! Best buds, man! It's gonna be great!"
Something clicked then and there, and I realized that as long as I can
remember I knew Donny came from money, but he has to have come from a lot
of money. Learning, as I did when I talked to his parents, that by 'the
price' he had meant the price to buy the property, just sealed the deal.
If I could make this work, I would be set for life.
But I worried about that obliviousness. He wasn't stupid enough to fall
for any gold-digger out of nowhere, but as soon as he realized that
having money to throw around made him an especially eligible bachelor, I
was on my way out of the picture.
My days in the lap of luxury were numbered - and with me gone, any sane
lover would take him for all he was worth. For his benefit as much as for
mine, I had to make Donny love me - and had to make sure he couldn't fall
for anyone else.
I did my homework. I had to blunt his sex drive while he was still new to
the campus; while at first I had banked on finding a way to make him
unappealing to others, I realized that there were as many tastes in men
as there were women and a lot of people would put up with any
eccentricities from someone rich enough.
I made sure I had enough cash and started looking for supplies.
***
I don't know what I was anticipating exactly, but what I got wasn't it.
The sudden absence of his parents' structuring influence along with my
own small contribution had made him depressed, surly, and emotionally
fragile. During one of his parents' regular visits, he snapped. They were
on their way out of the house - and I saw an opportunity.
I told them that his problem was that they were still hovering over him,
and that they wanted to control his life even though he was a grown
adult. I knew their intentions were good, but he needed to be able to
control his own circumstances. I assured them I'd be at least a minimal
civilizing influence, but he had to live his own life. They agreed, and
the situation was salvaged. He felt better all day, but he didn't seem to
realize that being thrust headlong into an adulthood he wasn't ready for
was the worst of his problems. No matter - I was there to take care of
it.
From now on, anything that happened to him - and his life - would be the
result of his own choices.
***
I monitored him in various ways, some subtle and some not. I woke him up
in the mornings - my research told me that one way the medication would
show up would be a loss of morning erections. I paid attention to what he
ate - and especially careful attention to the rate at which he consumed
his preferred beer and soda.
I helped him with his projects and stayed close to him whenever I noticed
he was particularly emotional. I wanted him to see me - even though he
was older and bigger - as comforting and paternal.
A month in, I noticed that he had finally stopped waking up with wood. It
didn't even seem to faze him. I was thrilled - I hadn't counted on him
being that oblivious. It would make my life so much easier.
I relied on little tricks to keep up appearances; I loaded him up with
coffee before his parents were to arrive. As I had hoped, taking his sex
drive out of the picture changed little enough of him that nobody noticed
the difference. His own parents left oblivious to anything out of the
ordinary. It was a liberating feeling; I knew then that I had all the
time and resources I needed.
It was the next morning, of course, that I noticed his nipples. I had
seen him shirtless before, and he was a perfectly ordinary guy - poorly-
defined pecs, flat, dime-sized nipples. Today they bulged out grossly, as
if they had been inflated - two fat crests poking out of the loose fabric
of his shirt, like the mosquito-bites of a girl on the cusp of puberty.
I took the day off and dug around online, terrified that I had missed
something - and it turned out I had. My research had been based on false
premises.
Every day, Donny was getting a dosage of antiandrogens and estradiol
loosely based on the self-medication of a number of biological males. I
had anticipated him becoming soft and womanly, and eventually growing
modest breasts - 'eventually' as in, the way I had heard of - between six
months and two years from now. The reality, my study showed, was that
before the time at which I had anticipated he'd show the first signs of
growth, he'd already be visibly endowed. Worse, all signs I had seen were
that his genetics favored curvy figures - I didn't realize how large male
breasts could get on their own.
I first considered abandoning my scheme, but then realized that the
hormones would remain in his system for some time - by now they had
already done enough to kill his sexual urges and start the development of
a female figure. His increasing effeminacy would continue far past the
restoration of his sex drive, and then he'd find out something was wrong
- and I'd be doomed.
No, whatever happened, I had to keep going. I had already passed the
point of no return. No, I would just have to be more careful; I would
have to find a way to hide his changes, and our seduction would have to
be more swift than anticipated.
I went out to the store and bought cheesecake, cream puffs, chocolate,
candy, and chips. If nothing else, I reasoned, his incipient boobies
could be hidden in plain sight by plumping him up. (He was already
beginning to gain weight, and I got the sense that the hormones
encouraged this.)
He came home and sat on the couch somberly, his eyes wet and his lips
aquiver. My heart sank, and I sat with him. "Donny, my man, what's
wrong?"
"I - I don't know! I had a class today and I didn't know any of the
answers and - and -" He got even more incoherent, crying openly. "I feel
so stupid!"
"No, no, no. You're not stupid, Don. Stop - don't. Come here." I gave him
a hug, patting him on the back in that "there there, bro" way, but
lingered for a while. "Donny, Donny, Donny. It's gonna be OK."
"I - I know, I just feel like a fraud sometimes, and an idiot, and -"
"Don, you've just had a rough day. I -" I laughed, and let go. "I had
actually planned a surprise for you today."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's been two months on the day since we moved in, and I noticed
that we got jack shit worth eating, so I got us some munchies. You like
cherry cheesecake, right?"
"Oh, Will! It's my favorite!" I knew that, but smiled and laughed
dismissively. "Ah, lucky guess. Come on, let's chow down."
We sat together on the couch and ate and enjoyed some cartoons. I hadn't
planned on this, but whenever some kind of breakdown happened I planned
to use it to my advantage.
Days went by, and he cried a lot, and I comforted him as well as
possible, lingering just within the range of what two close guy friends
could reasonably do together. Even as his nipples fattened to the point
that he seemed erect all day in a tight T-shirt, he remained stubbornly
boyish.. I should have realized that it would take more than just a
change in his hormones to make him more than just mildly confused about
his sexuality.
Then again, as I looked through his sketchbook, I realized that his women
had become more shapeless and indifferent - along with people more
generally.. Sex just wasn't on his mind these days, and I intended to
keep it that way.
We went out to get clothes, and I steered him towards reasonably
shapeless clothes bigger than he usually wore, and silken underwear and
pajamas just a touch shy of androgynous. We also got him some nice
clothes which I proceeded to lose. (I didn't want the entire plan to fall
apart over something so stupid as a dress shirt.) He was presentable and
cheerful with his parents when they talked next - he understood that our
arrangement was vaguely threatened by his depression, and did his even
best to keep it under wraps and appear more stable than he was.
While originally I balked at the idea, I realized that I had already done
far more physically invasive to him, so it wouldn't hurt to find a way to
help his affections along. I went to the odd party and worked out a few
contacts, and within a few days I had a significant amount of Oxycontin
and Ecstasy lingering in the hoard with the feminizing drugs.
This time I was careful, and figured out beforehand what I was going to
do. He came home one night in a foul mood, alternating between livid and
weeping, because he overheard some girl making fun of his weight.
I told him a big story about my day being lousy - things had sucked, but
not as badly as I let on, and I didn't have the hormones to deal with -
and offered to share some of the drugs with him. He laughed. "Ha! Sure,
what the hell. You've gotta try 'em sooner or later, right? Might as well
be when you need 'em."
I drilled it into my head beforehand and constantly repeated to myself
that I didn't want to push things with Don yet. Not into a place like he
felt like he was being used, or that he had any reason to question his
identity or his life.
A cozy evening on the couch turned into backrubs, and I made a point of
passing out away from him. I woke him up with a good, hearty breakfast.
He left with a smile on his face. He was happy and he didn't have to ask
any questions. I had cracked the door.
Week passed week, and my campaign of urgent caution continued; so did his
body's second puberty. After three months, I noticed a lot that he didn't
- he was itching near-constantly at his swelling chest, and his bottom
had grown noticeably round, jiggling with some steps. Between the
constant seductive campaign and the physical changes, I was beginning to
find him physically attractive - and as we grew physically closer I found
more and more about his changing body to enjoy.
As the fourth month began, I treated him with food once more and we
dropped E just to enjoy ourselves. Once more I found myself rubbing his
shoulders and back, and as my hands brushed the side of his chest he
tensed noticeably and moaned. "I've been sore there," he said - and for
good reason, I thought - and smiling, I kneaded his soft, ample flesh in
my hands.
Within minutes, I was rock-hard and he was squirming beneath me. "Oh
Will, it feels so good. I wish I could make you feel this good."
"You do just by being you," he said.
"Ohh... ohh, yeah. That's not what I meant, though."
He turned around, and for the first time I saw his nude breasts in front
of me. I had to suppress a gasp - nipple and areola formed a continuous
cone at least two inches wide and sat on a pair of elevated, fatty
mounds.
"I don't know why," he said, "but lately I've really... my nipples have
been what's turned me on."
Gingerly, I touched one. His breasts and pot belly shook together as he
squirmed with obvious pleasure.
"Oh, Will... please, oh God... please let me please you..."
He kissed me swiftly and passionately, and I gazed fondly at his plump,
girly face as he begrudgingly released me, his swollen lower lip
quivering. He then jumped on me, sloppily kissing my body in a straight
line down towards my hard dick.
He sucked me off with great enthusiasm, and only briefly after I finished
he began again. The dawn found my dick raw and sore, his plump, delicate
mouth nearly crusted with cum, and a small slick of near-clear jelly
beneath him.
As I anticipated, his main desire was to make me happy, to have
companionship and protection in a world that seemed increasingly cruel
and strange to him. In return, I began to have him change himself. He
took to shaking his luscious ass and growing breasts in panties and a
chemise just too tight to contain them. He grew his hair - wearing
ponytails at home and a mullet at school - and called himself Dawn. To
this day, I'm not entirely sure if he thinks he's a woman - he still
sometimes gets horribly sad about his shrunken, near-useless package,
although he makes his peace with it when I suck his titties until his
limp cock squirts.
His parents are tolerant people who like me a lot, and they feel it's
what makes him happy - after all, as soon as he left their house he
feminized himself and made romantic overtures to his best friend. While
some people at school have been told, people generally assume something's
up with him, because however good a job I did plumping him up at first,
he looks like a fat woman, not a fat man.
And there's the problem. This entire time, I've been quietly putting
hormones into his food and drink, and it's how he takes them. As far as
he knows, it's just something that happens, but his attitude is generally
to accept these things. Would our relationship survive finding out I did
it? I don't know, and I don't want to find out.
I can't raise suspicion, so I can't get a new source of the drugs for him
and I can't very well lead a separate life.. I followed him into art
school, but the house is still in his name, and today as I woke up I
realized that my nipples are just as swollen and itchy as they were
yesterday. I know it's not fair to call Dawn 'him' any more, but it seems
like the only way I can avoid breaking down in tears.
Yvette
- 06.08.2020
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