Julian - Part 3 free porn video

I had laid awake for most of the night, waiting for the merciful release of sleep to relieve my racing mind. One of things not helping was the frilly nightdress that Sara had put me in - I was used to sleeping in just a pair of shorts so the constant rubbing of the trims against my bare legs and upper body made sure my situation was never far from my thoughts. Eventually though I had managed to doze off, but it was a sleep punctuated by hellish nightmares that now, as my eyes opened groggily, I couldn't quite remember. That always made dreams all the more scary for me, as most nightmares seemed silly in the cold light of day. When I couldn't remember them though it would always leave me with a sense of unease that followed me throughout the day. I was certain that today would be no different. The first noise that I heard was the familiar sound of Fran getting up and ready for work. She always left early on a Monday morning, and the clock on the wall told me that she'd left the house by half six. I wondered if she was going to come and in talk to me, and I was certain that she paused outside my door at one point, but she must of thought better of it. A little while passed after that, during which I thought more about my situation and what I could do about it. I wondered if Sara would really go through with the threat of turning me into her daughter, the pink nightdress that I wearing would attest that she was going to, but I debated whether she could be bothered to keep it going. After all, what was really in it for her? If Sara and my wife had become a couple I would have thought that they'd be happy to be shot of me as quickly as possible. The thing that scared me slightly is that Sara had seemed to really enjoy treating me as her daughter last night, and it felt like it had moved passed simply being a punishment for hurting Bethany and into the territory of fulfilling some kind of need or desire on her part. I desperately hoped I was wrong on that count. At five to seven the door opened. I had expected to see Sara, but it was Bethany. She was wearing a splint on her nose, a terrible reminder of what I had done yesterday, and without thinking I found myself sliding slightly under the covers as though to protect myself from the girl. "You're awake, that's good," Bethany said, moving to sit down on the bed, "I haven't slept at all. I'm in too much pain." I wasn't sure what to say to her. The damage had already been done, there didn't feel like there was anything left to say, other than the feeble sorry that I managed. Bethany didn't reply straight away. Instead she looked around the room, as though she was contemplating something. I looked at her nervously, noticing that her pure blonde hair shone angelically in the early morning light that was seeping through the curtains now. "You've ruined my life," she said eventually, turning to face me more now and making eye contact, "I can't believe what you've done to me." It was too painful to look her in the face, so I submissively averted my gaze over to the window. Bethany continued, still looking straight at me, "they said it might not heal straight, that I might need to have an operation. Not to mention that I've got the prom coming up in a few months, which I might have to miss now." She let out a sigh, and stood up, "You just don't care do you? You're not even really sorry," her voice had become a little more emotional, "but I'll tell you something. If I have to live in this house with lesbo parents and, well, whatever you are, then I'm going to make your life a living nightmare." "I am sorry Bethany," I replied meekly, "I really didn't mean to hurt you." The girl didn't say anything in response. Instead, she simply stood and stared at me, a strange look on her face. Whole minutes seemed to pass before she spoke again, "I'm going to get out of here anyway. Go and live with my Dad. He's moved in with some woman and they've just bought a house. It's got to be better than living in this freak show." Truth be told, my spirits were raised a little when I heard this. If she were to run away then surely my punishment would be forgotten about. "But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere until I've had my chance to get even with you, sissyboy." It was though the girl could read my thoughts, and I felt a chill go down my spine as the look in her eyes changed to one of menace, "I'm going to make your life hell. I wanted to get you arrested but those two talked me out of it, but if this is how it's got to be then I'm going to make it a hundred times worse for you than you'd imagined." "Bethany, please," I begged, almost instinctively now, "I really didn't mean to hurt you like I did. Remember what I've been through as well this week...." "Shut up," she said coldly, returning to sit next to me, "I know my Mum, she'd go soft on you but I'm not going to let her. You're a pathetic little weakling as a man, you deserve to be treated like a little girl. I'm going to make sure that happens. And whatever I tell you to do you have to do it, or I might just make a little call to the police." She reached out and ruffled my hair as she stood back up, "just don't forget that." Sara had come in to get me up about fifteen minutes after Bethany left, and she took me downstairs for breakfast. Thankfully Bethany wasn't at the table, I guessed she'd gone back to bed, but I still felt ridiculous sitting at the table in a girl's nightdress. I was also getting concerned with how Sara was acting. It was as though she had forgotten altogether that I was actually a man, and was treating me, just as she had threatened, as though I was simply her daughter. "You need to eat this quickly," she said, putting a bowl of cornflakes down in front of me, "we've got lots to do today." "Like what?" I asked, almost instinctively, and then feeling stupid for doing so. "Sssh," Sara replied, now sitting down herself to a bowl of cereal, "just eat your breakfast like a good girl and we'll get moving after that." I felt a pang of shame as she referred to me as a girl, something which I was far from getting used to. I was also a little ashamed to note that she had poured herself a much bigger bowl of cereal, as though to further establish our new roles. I ate quickly as instructed, but looked at Sara as I did so. I really didn't know much about her, other than she was divorced and had a daughter of course, and that I was now totally at her mercy. My feelings of self-loathing were not helped by the fact that Sara was so obviously feminine, this morning she was dressed in a floral blouse with a sparkly necklace, and yet I was still now acting submissively to her. I finished before her and waited quietly for her to finish also. When she did, she took both our bowls and put them in the sink, "I want you to wash these up and then come upstairs," she said, turning to face me, "I'm going to get a few things ready." "OK," I replied, standing up to move to the sink and realising that I was terrified of what was to come. What did getting a few "things" ready mean? How far was she going to take this? "And don't use the dishwasher," Sara added, heading out of the room, "they're better dried by hand." I passed Bethany as I walked up the stairs. She said nothing, but gave me a knowing glance as if to serve a reminder of our earlier conversation. I could hear Sara moving around but wasn't sure what room she was in. I wondered up the hallway until I found her in the bathroom, testing the heat of the water under the shower. "Aah, you're finished," Sara said upon spotting me, "I want you to take a shower first, so go and take your clothes off in your room and come back in here." "What should I put on?" Sara let out an exasperated sigh, "oh it doesn't matter," she reached out and grabbed a large white towel off the rack and threw it to me, "just wrap this around yourself and get back in here." I took the towel and headed back into my new adoptive room. I regarded myself in the mirror once more, noting that while the nightdress made me look small and fragile, I still didn't really look like an 11 year old girl. At best I looked like a older girl with short hair, at worst I just looked like a small man in a dress. Or should that be the other way around? Anyway, I took off the nightie and the plain white knickers that Sara had dressed me in the night before and put them in the wicker wash basket that sat by the door. I glanced at my naked body in the mirror - I'd never grown chest hair, so the only hair on my body was the light hair on my underarms and legs and the hair down there of course. The worst part was, because my colouring was so fair, you could hardly even see the hair on my legs in the right light. Feeling slightly annoyed at my lack of masculinity, I pulled the towel around my waist and headed back toward the bathroom, only to find Bethany blocking my way in the hall. "That's not right," she laughed, seeing me coming toward her, "you have to wrap the towel higher up your body like a girl should." Before I could say anything, she had grabbed the towel and repositioned it in the way a woman would have it, the top of the towel now hiding all but the top of my chest but only falling half way down my legs. "That's better," she smirked, leaving me to continue toward the bathroom. Sara smiled when she saw me, obviously surprised that I was wearing the towel in such a feminine fashion but not saying anything about it. Instead she had moved toward the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a bottle, "Take the towel off and come over here," she said, moving the other side of me to close the door as she did so. "What," I replied, "I'm naked under here!" "Don't be silly," the tone of Sara's voice was one of impatience, and this was proved when she yanked the towel away from me. "Sara," I cried out, "what are you doing!" My hands moved naturally to hide my penis, but Sara didn't seem to be looking at that anyway, instead she spun me around as though inspecting something. "You really don't have much body hair. Amazing," she said. "I never have," I replied, feeling more self-conscious than ever before, "I'm too fair-skinned." This led Sara to turn her attention to my blond hair, which was a little longer than normal. She ran her hands through it, apparently appraising the situation. There was definitely no sexual aspect to the situation, in at this point, instead I just felt like a child being inspected by a parent. "I want to get rid of any body hair you have," she said finally, opening the bottle in her hand, "it just won't look right unless we do." Before I could do or say anything, she began rubbing the lotion on up and down my legs, using a light blue spatula of some kind. "Sara, that stings!" "You're not supposed to call me Sara," she replied, ignoring my complaints, "here, take some of this and put in under your arms." "I can't," I answered, making a nodding gesture toward my hands as I did so to explain that they were in use elsewhere. Sara shook her head, "you haven't got anything I haven't seen before." With that she pulled my hands away from my groin and actually gave my penis a playful slap, as though to disregard it totally! In a normal situation a woman touching me there would have been arousing. This time though I felt nothing, the shame of the situation seemingly overriding any possible excitement. "You'll have to do there as well," Sara said, gesturing toward my groin area, "I want you smooth all over." I couldn't believe this! No way was I going to remove my pubic hair. "C'mon Sara." I pleaded, "it's that really necessary?" "Not really," she replied with a slight smirk, "but you are being punished, don't forget." I could live with losing my leg and underarm hair - there wasn't much to worry about after all - but asking me to remove my pubic hair seemed a step too far and it made me angry. "This is too much," I protested, pulling away from Sara as she continued to rub the lotion onto my legs, "I know I did wrong yesterday but you're taking this way too far." Sara looked up at me and then stood up. For a second I was frightened that she was going to strike me, but instead she moved to the bathroom door and opened it. "Go on then," she said calmly, "get out of here." "What?" "Go," she continued, "if you won't do the punishment then you should leave and I'll call the police as promised." "Sara, c'mon. You wouldn't really do that, would you?" She moved back closer to me now, the door still wide open. "Try me," she answered, a worrying smile forming before she continued, " now Bethany and me have had our differences but she is my daughter and you hurt her pretty badly." The smile had gone now, replaced by a sadder look, "I sat next to her bed in the hospital last night and felt like crying, seeing her so worried about what was going to happen. It was lucky that Fran was there with me......'. As Sara said this, our eyes met. I got the feeling that she hadn't meant to mention Fran, and it had certainly changed the atmosphere in the room. I started to wonder about Sara's motives again. Was this really in revenge for what I had done to Bethany, or was this something she was doing to lessen me in Fran's eyes? That thought had never occurred to me until now, the idea that she saw me as a rival. "My husband," Sara said, closing the door again now, "well, my ex- husband now, he was a lawyer you know." I didn't respond. "He spent a lot of time visiting prisons to talk to clients, stuff like that. There's a prison not far from here, did you know that?" I nodded my head, everyone knew that. I also realised that the lotion on my legs was really stinging now. Sara continued, moving closer to me again, "he'd tell me stories about what he'd hear at the prison. Terrible things. I'd worry about a little thing like you at a place like that." Then, without warning, Sara grabbed my penis again and began fondling it softly, "I'm sure they'd have lots of fun with a soft little thing like you," she said, smiling now, "I don't think you'd fit in somewhere like that, do you?" I couldn't help it, the feel of Sara's soft hands against me was starting to get me excited, and I could feel myself getting harder. "No, I think your place is definitely here with me, as my little plaything," Sara laughed, "I think you're going to like being my little girl really. All those pressures and worries gone. All you have to do is whatever I tell you to do. That's got to be better than going to prison, surely?" As she said all this, I found myself hurtling helplessly toward orgasm as her manicured hands worked me up into a state. "I can see you agree," she said, more intensely now, "so you'll do as you're told then?" I could contain myself no longer, and felt the welcoming relief of orgasm moments later. I wanted to cry out as I did so, but I was mindful that Bethany was lurking about and might hear. It had been a while since Fran and I had done anything this exciting, and I felt like my whole body was going to explode with the sensuality of it all. Sara seemed a bit nonplussed by the whole thing, and simply grabbed some toilet paper to clean up the mess. "Now, that was a little treat for you," she said, "make the most of it though. It's going to be a long time before you get to do that again." I was too shocked by the situation to respond. What had just happened? "So, are you going to get rid of that hair or do I have to do it?" I considered things for a moment as a cacophony of questions raced through my mind. Would she really call the police if I left? She was right of course in saying that I could never survive in a place like that, but would I really go to prison? Wasn't I acting in some kind of self-defence? But where would I go if I did leave? Would Fran really want me any more now? And did Sara have a thing for me? All these things raced through my mind as I took the spatula as instructed and started removing the last bastion of my self-respect. Half an hour later I found myself standing in my new room, wrapped up in only a big white towel again. Sara had made me shave my face when I got out of the shower, but it didn't make a huge amount of difference anyway as my facial hair grew very slowly and wasn't particularly noticeable at the best of times. The amazing thing now was how much more fragile I felt shorn of all my body hair. If Sara had done it to make me feel like a child, then she had succeeded on that count. Looking down on my body, I felt like I was a pre-teen again. My humiliation wasn't over there though. Sara made me sit down at the vanity table in the corner of the room and she spent a good half an hour plucking and preening at my face, including removing some of my eyebrow hairs (which hurt) and then using a curler to extend my eyelashes so that they became far more pronounced than they had been. The effect of those two things alone made me look far more girlish, and when she lathered some light foundation on my face I watched in horror as it felt like my own appearance was being taken over by the young girl that was starting to look back at me in the mirror. "The foundation really makes a difference," Sara said, carefully finishing the last bits around my chin, "it makes you look so young." At that point Bethany came back into the room. I noticed that she didn't knock, as though I wasn't important enough to have any modesty of my own. The girl seemed excited, "Mum, look what I remembered about," she said as she almost skipped toward to us, "these are those hair extensions that I got last year to go to Simone's party." In her hands was stream after stream of blonde hair, which matched her own colouring. A chill went down my spine as I realised they probably matched my colouring too, and also as I noticed Sara's eyes light up at the prospect. "Brilliant," Sara replied enthusiastically, "I hadn't worked out what to do with his hair yet." So I sat passively as the mother and daughter buzzed around me excitedly, carefully connecting each strand of extension to my own longish hair. As I feared, the colour was a near perfect match, and once attached it became hard to tell that they were extensions at all. It took ages for them to finish, and they chatted as they did so. Neither spoke to me, and I started to feel like I was simply their doll that they were dressing up. However, I did take a strange small pleasure from the fact that they were talking to each other in such a happy way. I couldn't work out why though. As the extensions went on strand by strand I felt myself shocked by the difference to my overall appearance that they'd made. If I thought that the work on my eyes and the foundation had made me look like someone else, it was nothing compared to how having long blonde hair now made me look. The hair sheltered my face, making it look even smaller and daintier than it had before, and the weight of the longer hair was something unlike anything I had experienced before. How did women put up with that day in day out? "Oh my God," Bethany exclaimed after the pair of them had finished with the extensions and studied my reflection in the mirror, "I can't believe how different he looks!" Sara was shaking her head slowly, as though amazed as well, "I always thought he had delicate features but I didn't think that he'd look so passable." The women were right. As I looked at myself I could still see my own face looking back at me, but to all extents and purposes it was now also the face of a young girl. And not an unreasonable looking girl either - my light tones leant themselves perfectly to the softness and prettiness expected from a young woman. "I've got an idea," Sara said, rushing out of the room. Bethany's expression turned to one of mischief again, "you must be feeling pretty humiliated now," she said, brushing some of my new hair with her hand as she did so, "can you believe that two days ago you came into this house as man? Look at you now!" "That's true," I replied, and I found myself shocked as I realised the voice coming from the girl looking back at me was my own. Sara came back in holding a pencil of some sort, "what little girl would be complete without freckles?" She moved in front of me and made some markings below my eyes and on the bridge of my nose, while Bethany laughed in the background. As she backed away again, I looked at myself once more. The freckles had achieved the impossible and made me look even younger again. I winced at what looked back at me. "What about clothes then," Sara asked nobody in particular, as she stood back and admired her handiwork. Unfortunately for me, Bethany was only too happy to help out in this regard, "I've been thinking about that. You know how he, sorry she, is supposed to be an 11 year old right?" "Yeah," Sara responded, still staring at my new appearance. "Well today is a Monday," Bethany continued, "so she really should be at school." Sara turned her attention back to her daughter, "but we've already dressed him in a school uniform," she replied, obviously considering the idea, "and I think I've already put it in the wash." Bethany shook her head, "not the one from Saturday, I've got something else." With that she turned and headed out of the room. A feeling of desperation was starting to wash through me as the thought of what was to come played on my mind. I decided to try begging one last time, "Sara, I'm begging you, let's stop this now. I've learnt my lesson, honestly." "Oh Julia," she sighed, "we've been through this already. You're free to go at any time." "But you're going to get me arrested." "Hmm, well that's the problem," Sara replied, putting her hand on my bare shoulder, "but if you stay here then you're going to be my daughter, like it or not." I didn't have time to respond before Bethany came back in, excitedly holding a dress of some kind. She didn't say anything at first, instead she simply held out the dress in front of her mother. "Oh Bethany," Sara laughed, "that's so wicked." "I know," the girl responded, "but you said we'd treat him like a girl and this is what 11 year old girls would wear to school on a sunny day like today." I looked in horror at the offending garment. It was a plain dress with red and white gingham and a white collar, exactly the type of dress that young school girls wore in the summer months. The idea of I, a 26 year old man wearing it, was humiliating beyond belief. "Do you think it would fit him?" "I think so," Bethany responded, making sure I could see the dress clearly, "it's the one I wore when I was 10 but I was probably about the same height as him then." I saw Sara give a little look to her daughter, which I knew was giving the go-ahead for me to be dressed in the outfit. "And what I was thinking is that Julia here should wear this until half three, four o'clock, and then she can get changed into some normal clothes," Bethany added, with that menacing look in her eye again, "just like any schoolgirl would do." "That's probably a good idea," Sara concurred, "I want him, sorry her, to do some housework for me so it would act as a little uniform for doing that as well. Do you want to go and grab some underwear as well? "Already have," Bethany replied, producing some garments from her other hand that I hadn't seen already, "I found these little ankle socks that I used to wear at St. Margarets." The socks were white but with red and white frilly trim half way up, which would match the dress that I was about to wear. "Please no," I whimpered, pathetically, "I beg you. Don't make me wear all this." "Don't be silly," Sara replied, taking the plain white knickers with red trim from her daughter's hand, "you're going to look adorable." To my relief, Sara made Bethany go outside so that I could put the underwear on, but it was humiliating enough having to dress in the clothes in Sara's presence. She handed me the knickers first, and I dutifully pulled them up and into place. They were snug, I could feel the trim digging into my waist, and they also had the embarrassing effect of smoothing out my groin area, almost hiding my penis. When they were on, Sara handed me a new garment. "It's a vest," she said, sensing my confusion, "you're too young for a bra but little girls like to wear something like this to make themselves feel a bit older." Without arguing, I slipped the item over my head. Again it was snug and the sides seemed to pull my chest in, making me look even smaller. It also added an extra feminine aspect to the outfit, as the pink straps that went over my shoulders could easily be taken for bra straps. Next were the socks, and I sat on the bed and slipped them on as Sara watched quietly. I looked at her when I was finished, but couldn't work out if the expression was one of sympathy or excitement. I suppose this was filling the humdrum of the day for her, if nothing else. Finally was the dreaded dress. I was desperate for it not to fit, but to my consternation it fell almost perfectly down my body, the bottom falling to exactly half-way between my waist and knees. The humiliation of putting on such a garment was almost too much to bear. As Bethany had said earlier, two days ago I had come into this house as a man. Now I found myself wearing the most girlie of outfits, the kind of thing that even Bethany was too old for. Sara circled around me as I came to terms with my new outfit, and she pulled the dress into place until it sat perfectly on my small, feeble frame. "I can't believe that a 10 year old's dress would fit you so well, "she said, shaking her head in disbelief, "I remember wearing a dress like this to school. I used to like it better than the pleated skirt and blouse in the summer." Bethany came back in at this point, and could hardly contain her glee, "oh my God," she exclaimed, "it fits her perfectly doesn't it." The humiliation wasn't over yet though. Firstly, Sara removed the traces of pink nail varnish that remained from Saturday night, and while she did this Bethany was allowed to put my new long hair into two plaits. When finished, they were placed on either shoulder, so that they hung down on top of the dress where I could see them at all times. The final indignations came from the two flowery clips that Bethany placed on either plait, and then the plain flat black shoes which Sara slipped on my feet. When they were finished, I was made to stand in the middle of the room so that the women could inspect me fully. As I did so, I spied my reflection in the mirror and felt like crying. Absolutely no semblance of maleness remained, hell I didn't even look like a woman. Instead a girl had taken my place, and a delicate girly girl at that. "Perfect," Sara said, admiring her handiwork, "we've done a great job." "I'm just shocked," Bethany added, "I mean we can tell it's him still but I'm not sure anyone else would think he was anything other than a girl." The outfit was definitely going to serve as a constant reminder of my new situation and status. The fact that my legs were no shorn of hair gave everything a whole new feeling, as did my new lack of pubic hair. I also winced as the women span me around and I felt a gush of air rush up the dress, which was a whole new sensation. I was also in no doubt that this was all of Bethany's doing. I wasn't sure what Sara had in mind, but I was certain that the final outcome wouldn't have been so embarrassing and humiliating if Bethany hadn't been involved. As if to prove this, Bethany was next to speak, "There's one more thing that we have to do," she said, making some further alterations to the plaits that hung femininely down my front, "he has to learn to sit properly in a dress." Sara laughed at the suggestion. "Good idea." She then proceeded to explain how I should sit down, namely by smoothing the back of the dress as I did so and then making sure my knees were kept together. I was made to practice this two or three times before they decided that I was doing it well enough. "I think that's it then," Sara said finally, picking up the towel from earlier, "it's time for Julia here to get to work. You can start downstairs and work your way up here." "Don't forget my room," Bethany interjected. "She'll be doing everyone's room," Sara replied, "dusting, hoovering, the whole works. Is that OK Julia?" I shut my eyes for a moment. My life had sunk to a previously unimaginable new low, and I was too gutless to even try to do something about it. "I'll get started," was the feeble response that I mustered.