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Make Me Over free porn video
Make Me Over by Kelly Newman
Allow me to introduce myself - I am, or was, Peter Newman, 28 year old
school teacher of English at a minor private school in Oxford. I am
slim (actually skinny), fairly good looking, 5'10'' tall of Anglo-
Indian stock and I am bored.
To start with, I have a girlfriend, Tina, who I have been seeing for a
year and a half and with whom I am in the process of splitting up with.
She is nice enough: a 21 year old student, curvaceous, with lovely blue
eyes and curly hair, but she's a drip. When we met, on a night out in
Oxford, I thought she had more about her but time has proven that she
is just a little girl from a dull village in Warwickshire. So, I'm
leaving her. Harsh I know, but then there's more.
You see, from a very early age, I've wanted to dress as a woman. I've
even had fantasies about becoming a woman. I've never acted on these
and it's messing me up, quite frankly. I told Tina recently and she did
not take it well - it simply did not compute for her. I suppose it's
another reason for splitting up with her.
There's another thing, though. For a long time I've been attracted to
older women. I love the sight of a woman in her forties who has fleshed
out, maybe sags a little, but has still taken care of herself and
clearly still relishes sex. It's a fantasy of mine that I've never
acted upon to have sex with a woman like that.
Anyway, I've just got in from school on Friday and the phone rings.
It's Tina's mum, Sharon. Now Sharon is definitely not an older woman
I'd find attractive. Whilst she does have Tina's lovely blue eyes,
she's fat - I'd say she's size 18 to Tina's size 10 - with a double
chin. She's got short brown hair in a style that reminds me of Cliff
Richard in the 1950s and dresses quite casually all the time. In fact,
she rather matches the stereotype of a lesbian. Add to that a
bitterness brought about by the fact her husband left her when Tina was
12, leaving Sharon with the marital home and three children to feed and
bring up and you can see why she can seem quite difficult. Oh, and
don't forget the very unsexy West Midlands accent she has.
So, Sharon's on the phone. She says she wants to see me 'cos she's got
some of my stuff at hers. I agree to go over that evening.
That evening I go over to Sharon's dull house in that dull village.
Sharon invites me in and once I'm in the kitchen she wastes no time in
coming to the point: "I know you an' Tina 'ave split up. Probably for
the best - she was too young to get so involved. She told me you're a
tranny, which I don't find surprising - I always thought you were gay,
anyway!"
"Now, look here," I start to say, but Sharon cuts me off.
"Nevermind trying to deny it, sissy! Listen to me, for a moment. I 'ave
a confession. I got you here to trap yow. You see my friend Carol is a
Welsh witch. She's given me what's known as the Charm of Making. It can
turn a person into another person."
"What the hell are you talking about," I retort.
"Look, you don't 'ave to believe me. But you do 'ave to hear me out."
"Ok, ok,"
"So, what I was goin' to do with the Charm of Makin' was to use it on
you to turn you into Tina and Tina into you. Strikes me, if you wanna
be a woman so much you can be her an' I think she could do with bein' a
little more in control of 'er life an' you're the best candidate. Plus,
the two of ya can get back together and then I won't 'ave to deal with
her constant bawlin'"
"This is insane! I'm going right now!" I say and I make to leave.
"Wait, you 'aven't heard me out," says Sharon, "I've changed me mind. I
don't wanna use the bloody charm. I can't see that it's right messin'
with people's lives like that - even yours. Now, you're 'ere I just
can't do it."
I'm standing there dumbfounded by all this. But as I do, I feel a new
emotion: respect. I suddenly see Sharon in a new light: here's this
woman who's been left by her husband to raise three children, who are
now leaving home as they become adults. She's facing being alone again.
Add to that her drippy daughter's been dumped by her arrogant boyfriend
and you can see she's got a lot on her plate. And yet, she doesn't want
to exact revenge. Then something else hits me - what if Sharon and I
were to use the Charm of Making to switch bodies, to switch lives. Even
if it doesn't work, the whole idea seems just so out there it's worth a
try.
"Sharon, " I say, "Let's use the Charm of Making to switch - I become
you and you become me?"
"What, why would you wanna do that? Why would I wanna be a posh perv
like yow?"
But then a funny look crosses Sharon's face.
"Alright, posh boy, you're on," she says with a sly grin, "But you know
for the Charm of Makin' to work the two people 'ave gotta have sex
first. How about it big boy?"
"I'm game if you are, Sharon," I say like a flash, "Get your kit off,
you horny bitch."
And with that, we quickly undress. Me in my skinny glory; Sharon with
her cellulite, bingo wings, chubby tummy and fat arse. Then she starts
to chant the Charm of Making. As she does, I feel a powerful erection
grow and I start chanting it with her.
Sharon drops to her knees and with her chubby fingers grabs my cock and
takes it in her mouth. She's actually rather good at it. I stop
chanting the Charm of Making and order her to get to her feet "Take me
to the bedroom. Now!"
Sharon takes me by the hand and leads me from the kitchen, through the
living room, up the stairs and into her bedroom. I push her onto the
bed. "Come on then, posh boy, give me what ya got!" she says and I'm on
her like a shot riding that fat body. We come together. I roll off.
Suddenly, I feel a tingle and stand up. "My God, I think it's working!"
I exclaim.
The first thing that happens is I shrink in height and my body now
resembles my early teenage self. Next, my skin goes from golden brown
to white. All my pubic and body hair falls out. My feet shrink again
and bronze pink nail varnish, like Sharon's, appears on my toe nails.
I hold out my hands and see them shrink again but at the same time the
fingers fatten up. The nails grow out and the same bronze pink nail
varnish appears on my fingernails. Rings, including a wedding ring -
Sharon's wedding ring - appear on my fingers.
Suddenly, I let out a huge fart and I start shaking. My bones reshape
themselves to that of a woman. My balls retract inside me and become
ovaries. My penis shrinks and becomes a clitoris. A vagina and womb
replace my male sex organs. I let out another huge fart and my bum
grows and grows. My hips widen. My thighs, even my calves fatten out.
My belly sags. I have bingo wings for arms.
Suddenly, my nipples widen and then breasts grow out from my chest,
pert and A cup at first, but they keep growing and lose firmness until
I have a pair of slightly sagging DD cup tits. 40 plus indeed!
I then look in the floor length wardrobe mirror door (cheap, I know). I
watch in fascination as my prominent Adam's apple shrinks and I grow a
double chin. I go to speak but I can't. Sharon, who has been
alternately laughing and gasping like she's watching a firework
display, says: "That shut ya up, fer once, posh boy!"
But it's the next change that fascinates me most. I watch as my face
changes to that of Sharon's. My eyes change colour from dark brown to
light blue. My eyebrows thin and arch (one of Sharon's best features).
My face changes from masculine to middle aged feminine, complete with a
few wrinkles. My nose reshapes from my Asian nose to Sharon's aquiline
nose. Dangly earrings appear at my ears. My hair changes from curly
black to Sharon's shortish, brunette hairstyle. I can even feel her
crooked teeth in my mouth, complete with fillings. I had such lovely
teeth before.
The change is complete. "Fookin' 'ell, I'm yow," I say in Sharon's
voice (complete with West Midlands accent).
But something more violent is going on that distracts both of us.
Sharon cries out and doubles over. It is clear she is changing but more
rapidly and painfully. In seconds, Sharon gains height and musculature,
loses fat and her breasts shrink to nothing. Her skin changes from
white to golden brown and she grows a huge cock and balls (if I must
say so). When she lifts her head up it is Peter's head - my head or
what used to be my head - that looks back at me.
Sharon, now Peter, stands up. She seems angry: "You know what we need
to do next to make the changes permanent, bitch, don't you?" she says
in Peter's voice.
Indeed, I do, for suddenly I can access all Sharon's memories. Her
childhood, going to school as a girl, going to work, getting married,
having the kids, it's all there. I also know that the Charm of Making
needs the two people to have sex to kick start the process. If they
then have sex again, the changes are permanent. I want this. I wanna be
Sue. I can feel female hormones coursin' through me. I wanna be a
mother to me kids and I feel like I'm on the verge of a new life as a
43 year old woman who's newly free. Most of all, I want Peter to fuck
me with his beautiful, big cock.
With a giggle, I fall to my knees in front of Sharon/Peter and grab his
swollen golden brown cock with my chubby right hand (interesting: I
used to be left handed) and opening my now thinner lips, slide the
thing between them.
Sharon/Peter grabs my head and sneers: "So you thought you were so
superior did you? Well, how do you like it now, you fat cow?"
I know it's only the testosterone talking. In seconds, Sharon/Peter has
had a massive testosterone rush and isn't handling it well. I stop
sucking and get up on the bed on all fours.
"Calm down, Sharon, dear, you know yow want me. C'mere and fook ya
bitch."
With that Sharon/Peter slides his cock into my hot pussy. I'm maybe a
little loose but as I discovered earlier for a woman who's ad three
kids, I'm pretty tight.
"Yes, yes, fucking take it. Take it all, you fat, ugly dyke!" shouts
Sharon/Peter.
"Say it, ya horny bastard," I say, "Say my fookin' name!" And with that
I look into Sharon/Peter's beautiful brown eyes in the mirror door and
thrust my fat bum against his groin.
"Yes, Sharon, Sharon, I want you," says Peter and with that he comes
deep within me. At the same moment, wave after wave of orgasmic
pleasure washes over me causing me to scream like Tina does when she
gets a good seeing to. So much better than anything I experienced when
I was Peter.
Peter pulls out of me and flops in the chair in me bedroom. "I'm so
sorry for calling you names. My God, am I going to turn out to be a
rapist?"
I go over to Peter and put me arms around him: "Don't be silly," I say,
"It was the male 'ormones doing the talkin' and from your memories, I'd
say a little bit of self-loathin' - yow 'ad real problems with the way
ya looked, when yow were me, didn'cha?"
"Yes, I'm afraid I did," Peter grins ruefully and stands up.
"Well, none of your problem now, posh boy, is it?" I laugh and feeling
self-conscious quickly pull on me dressing gown hangin' on the back of
the door. "Can I get you anythin'? You'd better get dressed, though,
David'll be back later and he'll 'ave an 'ell of a fright if he sees
his sister's ex-boyfriend wanderin' about naked. Then again, you're
welcome to stay the night for some more sexy fun, 'andsome." I move
closer to Peter.
"I don't think so, Mrs Banks. What would David, and Tina for that
matter, say? Anyway, I'm moving on. Y'know, places to meet, women to
see."
"Tina?"
"I don't think so."
"No problem, she's not really your type anyway. Sure I can't convince
you to stay, lover?"
"No, no, I really must be going," says a rather flustered (and semi-
hard) Peter, "Really must put some clothes on."
"Okey doke, luv."
Peter turns and leaves the bedroom and goes downstairs. In the kitchen
he picks up his clothes lying on the floor and dresses quickly. He then
stops: "Christ I'm dying for a cigarette," he says, and reaching into
his jacket pocket with his left hand, pulls out a packet of fags.
"Not in 'ere ya don't, young man," I say and for the first time I
realise I can breathe much better and don't 'ave that funny taste in me
mouth. Of course, Peter smokes, Sharon doesn't (well, if you don't
count me teenage schoolgirl days behind the bike sheds when I last used
ta 'ave fun)! In me own way, I'm not too shabby - don't drink (much -
unlike Peter), don't smoke, eat regular meals!
"Sorry," he says, "I forgot and I forgot how much I need these things -
could do with a drink too. It is Friday night, after all. Anyhoo, have
a nice life, sexy," With that, Peter grabs me, pulls me close and gives
me a lovely deep kiss. I swoon like a schoolgirl - God it feels good -
before pushing 'im away: "Come on, get off and bugger off 'ome, ya
naughty boy!" I laugh.
With a wink and a grin, Peter turns, opens the door and leaves. I hear
'im get in his car, start the engine and drive off. Then I'm alone. As
Mrs Sharon Banks. But I'm not afraid and I ain't bitter. I go upstairs,
run meself a lovely bath and bung in all the girly bath stuff I can
find. Then I take a nice, long bath. So good after all that hot sex! I
especially like soapin' up me lovely, big, 40DD boobs - verrry nice!
Shortly after that, David comes home and in his usual teenage way says
little more to me than 'ello, Mum an' good night, Mum an' goes to bed.
No doubt for a wank, like all boys 'is age, ha, ha!
I sit down with a cup of cocoa before bed and read one of me women's
mags. It's then that I come across it - an advert for women to take
part in a new telly show called 'Make Me Over'. It says, they're
lookin' for ordinary women who've maybe got "body issues" and would
like to "update their wardrobe, their makeup, their whole look." I'm
'ooked straightaway. If there's one memory I don't 'ave it's 'ow to do
makeup (which also explains why Tina's so crap at it) and me clothes
are just dull. I need this. The ad has a number to ring - I'll phone
Monday morning.
Finally, tired from a crazy day, I go to up to bed. I undress, put on a
nightie and I'm out like a light.
I awake mid-morning the next day. Initially, I dunno where I am and I
feel scared that I seem to be in a strange body. But then me memories
of me life and last night come floodin' back. I'm also horny and I know
just what to do about that! I get out of bed and go over to me knicker
drawer. I open the drawer and reach in with me right hand. Ta da!
There's me lovely 7" dildo. I know David's already gone to his part
time job, so I can make as much noise as I like!
I take off me nightie and I'm naked in all me flabby glory. I turn on
the dildo and touch the tip to me ripe boobs. Instantly, I get a jolt
of pure pleasure. Mmm! Time for the main event. I lie on me back and
slide all 7" of the bad boy into me moist pussy. Ooh yeah! After a few
minutes of this imagining it's Peter doin' me, I come loudly. Lovely,
but I really must start thinkin' about some other stud. Don't wanna
fall in love with me daughter's ex now!
I get up an' ave a shower. If today is the first day of the rest of me
life then shoppin' beckons. I get dressed an' go downstairs for me
breakfast.
With breakfast done, I write a note to David, amazed for just a sec 'ow
much neater me 'andwritin' is to Peter's messy scrawl, then I get on
with it. I tell David I've gone to the shops then I'm going to visit
Carol. I'll probably be back late and he should help himself to a ready
meal from the fridge.
I get in me little red Nissan Micra and drive to town. Unfortunately,
shoppin' just depresses me. Everythin' I try on either makes me look
like mutton dressed as lamb or a bag lady. After lunch, I leave an'
drive to Carol's, which is the other side of me village.
Carol greets me like a long lost sister, as ever. "Sharon, luv, how
lovely to see you," she says as she hugs me, "come in," and she invites
me into the living room. Carol is the same age as me. She's a bit of a
brassy blonde with a love of tight tops an' big hippy skirts. She's a
couple of sizes smaller than me but the clothes she wears do 'er no
favours, to be honest. Anyway, Carol's lovely, she's my best friend and
we've known each other for years - ever since me 'usband left us, in
fact. I got chattin' to 'er one day in the shop and discovered she'd
recently lost 'er 'usband and with no kids of her own she was all
alone. We're like soul mates, we tell each other everythin' and even
though I'm never exactly sure what she's on about when she talks about
witchcraft an' that, I sort of believe 'er. She's always keen to tell
me she only believes in good magic, which 'as always made me feel
better about it all.
So, 'ere we are, Carol, and me, the new Sharon. After, the usual small
talk about the village, kids an' that, Carol suddenly says: "So, did
you go through with it then?"
"What?" I ask, knowing full well what she means.
"Don't play the innocent with me, Sharon. Did you use the Charm of
Making on your daughter's arrogant pig of a boyfriend or not?"
"Weell," I say, "Y'know, yow tried to talk me out of it, sayin' I
didn't 'ave it in me to use it and I really shouldn't?"
"Yes, I do," says Carol and I remember that we had a bit of a fallin'
out over this the last time I saw 'er with Carol sayin' the Charm of
Makin' really only oughtta be used for good.
"Well, I used it, or rather we used it, and..."
At this I stop because I can tell by her open mouthed expression,
Carol's twigged what's 'appened.
"Oh my, God," she exclaims, "you're the boyfriend - Peter - or you
were! You and Sharon've used the Charm of Making to bodyswap!"
"You're not mad, are yow, Carol? Please don't tell me kids or anyone. I
know Sharon - I - 'ave some problems - but I like being Sharon - sorry
- me. An' anyway, it's permanent," I blurt.
At this Carol bursts into tears, but 'appy tears - she's cryin' an'
laughin' at the same time: "I'm so, so pleased for both of you. I was
sooo scared Sharon would make the wrong decision and do untold damage.
And you, Peter, you're clearly a good person, after all. Ha, ha, what
am I saying, you're Sharon now! You wouldn't have referred to "my kids"
just then if you weren't!"
With that, Carol, hugs us. Maybe it's the new female 'ormones runnin'
through me, maybe it's what I've been through, maybe it's what Peter or
Sharon or Carol 'ave all been through, but I can't stop meself cryin'
too. We 'old each other tight. As we do so I suddenly realise somethin'
else: Sharon's reason for the funny look when I suggested we bodyswap:
Carol's in love wi' me. And, if I'm bein' honest, I love 'er too. I was
always too scared to admit it or do anythin' about it.
We pause, stare deeply into each others' eyes, and I give a slight nod
and a smile and suddenly Carol's kissin' me passionately.
That night, me an' Carol make passionate love.
On Sunday, I return 'ome. David's there but 'e doesn't bat an eyelid -
wrapped up in 'is own teenage world that one.
Sunday passes with me in a kind of dreamworld. I tidy up and do the
cleaning, make meals for David and me and eventually go to bed.
Monday morning brings the need to go to me job as a Doctors'
Receptionist. Not a problem, I know all about this. I may 'ave Peter's
memories, as well as me own, but I don't 'ave 'is skills and abilities.
I've got Sharon's. I get up, get lazy David up for college, make us
both breakfast, have a shower then I dress in me usual dull but work-
like, long skirt and blouse with boring flat sandals.
I then kiss David goodbye - which 'e always hates - tell 'im I'll be
back at the usual time, get in the car and drive to work.
At lunchtime, I phone the number for 'Make Me Over'. The woman I speak
to says I'm just the sort of lady they're lookin' for and can I come in
to see 'em?
ONE YEAR LATER
Well, what a year it's been! New year, new millennium, new me.
The telly programme, 'Make Me Over', was a huge success - for them an'
for me. I was transformed by it! Me 'air was done - it's still sorta
short but grown out even more on top and I've got bright red highlights
in it now. They gave me these new Botox injections in me face what
smoothed out what few wrinkles I 'ad. They gave me collagen injections
in me lips - an' got a cosmetic dentist to work on me teeth. They
introduced me to makeup - summit I'd been a bit afraid of before - an'
showed us how to do it properly. Most of all, they showed me I was
beautiful and worth it in me own right and showed me what clothes,
shoes, bags - you name it - suited me. And the presenters loved me so
much they decided the show should continue (I think it was what they
call a pilot). In fact, they said I reminded them of that Sharon
Osbourne! S'pose I do look like 'er, come to think of it.
I'd already started a diet and Carol and me started going for walks in
the countryside an' goin' swimmin' an' that. I'm now a buxom size 16.
No, I'm a sexy, buxom size 16! I wear makeup most days and I really
know how to dress, now.
David, bless 'im, joined the Navy when he left college, an' he's doing
fine, I'm so proud. This meant I could finally divorce that idiot
husband of mine.
It's also meant me an' Carol can spend much more time together. Muuuch
more. An' we're 'avin a whale of a time! 'Cos whilst we're both totally
committed to each other and love each other, we both still like men,
especially younger men. We go out from time to time, dressed to impress
as they say, an' 'ave a good time. You'd be amazed 'ow many young
blokes are interested - even if we're not (Carol says it's her magic, I
tell 'er not to be silly). If we're interested too, we bring 'em back
to Carol's place or my place an' shag 'em silly!
Younger men are better 'cos they can go for longer, are better lookin'
an' just nicer than older men. Plus, even if they've got a girlfriend,
they never wanna 'ang around (maybe it's a guilty pleasure, like it was
for Peter), which is fine by us. We're just girls who wanna 'ave fun.
Just like them in that new telly programme, 'Sex and the City'. Carol
and me are already modellin' ourselves on that Samantha. In fact, we're
plannin' on goin' on 'oliday to New York next summer. If no one's
guessed by then that we're two lipstick lezzas, there's no 'elp for
'em!
Anyhoo, today's a big day. It's Tina's wedding day. Yes, she sorted
'erself out. Graduated this year, although I dunno what she's gonna do
with 'er degree - neither does she! Her fiancee's a bit of a tit - a
local ex of hers from a few years back - but she's 'appy. I asked 'er
recently if she'd ever 'eard from Peter - I certainly never 'ave. Tina
said a friend of a friend told 'er, 'e'd left 'is job at that posh
school and got a job at a state school. Doin' very well too - Deputy
Head or something. Tina also said something like Peter 'ad also got
married, so I guess he finally found his place in life. Good on ya,
Peter! I just hope, 'my replacement', is 'avin as good a time as I am!
So, 'ere we all are: Carol dressed to the nines in a summery, low cut
number (cheeky minx), Keira (me eldest daughter and a legal eagle in
the makin', too), Michelle (David's girlfriend) and me all fussin'
around Tina. She looks lovely, as you'd expect, in a lovely white
bridal gown. Keira and Michelle are the bridesmaids in lovely, matching
dusky pink dresses. But don't forget the mother of the bride. I'm in a
racy, low cut red number with matchin' hat, bag and killer stilettos. A
little over the top ya may say, but this is me, Ms Sharon Smith, an' I
don't care. In fact, just this same attitude got me the Practice
Manager's job at work. Though the fact I let Dr Shaw shag me over 'is
desk one night can't 'ave hurt! Certainly felt good at the time!
The wedding itself is lovely. An' I can't 'elp shed a tear or two.
Carol holds me hand all the way through and when she sees me crying she
smiles at me and says softly: "Look at Tina, doesn't she look radiant!
You've come a long way, Peter, a long, long way. You did the right
thing, for everyone, not least, Sharon, Tina and yourself. You should
feel proud. Come on, now, you're a big girl. You're Sharon Smith -
mother of the bride! Just think, you've got two more to do! And you'll
be a grandmother one day! And I'll be with you all the way, my love."
And she's right. I look down at meself, at me huge cleavage, lovely red
dress, past me lovely chubby legs down to me killer heels. I open me
bag and take out my little mirror. Lookin' in the mirror I see meself
lookin' back at me. I look stunnin' if I do say so meself - even the
tears haven't ruined the look. I silently bless waterproof mascara and
then I bless Sharon/Peter for giving me the opportunity to love and be
loved.
Y'know sitting here in me red outfit as Ms Sharon Smith, saucy, busty,
lovely Sharon, I'm just like the Wife of Bath in that book The
Canterbury Tales that Peter used to teach to bored, spoilt kids in that
posh school a millennium ago. I flash a smile at meself in the mirror,
pop it back in me bag, lean over to Carol and with a kiss I say: "Thank
you, lovely, I love you, too. Don't worry, I'm fine. You sure you never
planned all this, though?"
THE END
Copyright 2010 Kelly Newman
Vera
- 02.02.2022
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