Happy Christmas
- 1 year ago
- 15
- 0
Happy Christmas? free porn video
Happy Christmas?
This story is pure fantasy and deals with the problems arising from
being discovered by another person.
I turned eighteen last August and as I was now considered an adult, was
no longer required to accompany my parents on their forthcoming weekend
break. They were travelling down to London to attend a Christmas party
thrown by the head office of my Dad's company. Mum was especially
thrilled to be invited to such a high powered event and had bought a
gorgeous ball gown for the occasion.
I was also delighted, as for the first time in my life I was going to
have the house to myself for forty eight hours. I had been snatching
opportunities to try on my mother's clothes since the age of twelve but
had never been able to spend any quality time pursuing my transvestite
feelings. Now at last I had the chance to wear lingerie, blouses, skirts
and dresses to my heart's content. The only disappointment was that Mum
was taking her beautiful new ball gown with her, so I wouldn't be able
to try it on.
Mum and Dad had set out for London about twenty minutes ago and in ten
minutes time my alter ego Gemma would start to emerge. (I'd decided to
wait half an hour after they left to allow for the possibility of them
returning to pick up anything they'd forgotten.). I was now counting
down the minutes on my watch and there was one minute to go when I was
startled by a loud knock at the front door.
Frustrated by the thought of any interruption to my plan, I ran to the
door with the intention of seeing off the caller as soon as possible. I
opened the door and was rather taken aback to see our next door
neighbour, Mr Smith, carrying a large Christmas present.
"Oh Hi Mr Smith" I said as politely as possible "What can I do for you?"
Mr Smith handed me the present "This is for you, Jeremy. As soon as I've
gone you must open it immediately and read the note I've enclosed. It's
very important indeed" "But,but ....er thank you" I replied, not knowing
what to make of Mr Smith's gift or his words. Mr Smith had already
turned and left our property, waving as he closed the garden gate.
I carried the present into the living room. The last thing I needed was
to waste valuable dressing up time, but I sensed that I needed to deal
with the contents of Mr Smith's gift before I went to my mother's
lingerie drawer. I tore off the festive gift wrapping to reveal a plain
cardboard box. An envelope was attached to the top of the box with "Read
this first" written on it. I grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. It
contained a hand written letter.
Dear Jeremy (or whatever you like to be called).
A couple of weeks ago I called round your house to speak to your father
about a business matter. At first I thought there was nobody home and
was about to leave, when, to my shock and, dare I say delight, I saw you
admiring yourself in the hall mirror. I say delight because you were
wearing matching black lace bra, panties and suspender belt with
stockings attached. I am a long time admirer of pretty transvestites and
have always dreamed of having one as a girlfriend.
The gift contains everything you need to become completely feminised. I
shall return to your house exactly ninety minutes after I gave you this
package. When I call again I expect you to fully transformed and ready
for me. If you decide not to comply with these instructions I shall have
no choice but to inform your parents about your little habit.
Mr Smith.
My head swam and at first I couldn't focus on the contents of Mr Smith's
letter. My first thought was to remember the episode Mr Smith had
spotted. I'd only had about forty minutes while Mum and Dad went to the
local supermarket for the weekly shop. I grabbed this short opportunity
to throw on some of Mum's lingerie. As Mr Smith had mentioned, it was a
black lacy set. How good it had felt pulling on her seamed stockings and
attaching them to the pretty suspender belt. The hall had a full length
mirror and I hadn't been able to resist admiring myself in it. I
remember the knock at the door and had immediately ran back upstairs.
Obviously Mr Smith had looked through the window next to the door before
knocking.
I tried to think clearly. I just couldn't face my parents finding out I
liked to dress up as a girl. They were quite strait-laced and would have
no understanding on my penchant for crossdressing. The other option was
to meet with Mr Smith dressed up in the items he'd given me. I checked
my watch and realised he'd be returning in a little over forty five
minutes. I decided I needed to open the box.
In normal circumstances I'd have been delighted with the contents of Mr
Smith's gift. The box contained a complete French maid's outfit, frilly
bra and panties with suspenders attached, fishnet stockings and a set of
short net petticoats. There was also a pair of high heeled shoes, a long
blonde wig, silicon breast forms and a make up kit. For a few seconds I
just stared at the feminine items, now spread all over the living room
floor.
If my secret was going to be safe I had no choice but to comply with Mr
Smith's instructions, so I gathered everything up and went upstairs to
the bathroom. I'd never worn make up before but had been secretly
studying "how to" videos on the internet in preparation for the original
plans I'd made for this weekend. I opened the make up kit Mr Smith had
given me and found a small tub of Dermablend. After quickly reading the
instructions I applied the foundation all over my face and set it with
the accompanying powder. I did my best with the eye shadow, mascara,
lipstick and rouge, trying to remember what I'd learned online.
Looking in the bathroom mirror, I decided I'd made a reasonable job of
my make up, thankful that I'd never really had to shave. I picked up the
long blond wig and carefully place it on my head, tugging it down at the
temples to ensure a snug fit. I used my fingers to tease the wig into a
nice feminine style, marvelling at my increasingly girlish appearance.
For now I tried to enjoy my transformation into Gemma and forget that I
was effectively being blackmailed by Mr Smith.
I picked up the black bra, trimmed with layers of white lace and fed
each arm through the straps, reaching behind me to do up the fastening.
I placed a silicon breast form in each cup. I'd always dreamed of owning
a pair of silicon falsies and loved the natural feel and look they gave
to my chest. The panties were also black with row after row of white
lace trim and I eagerly stepped into them, pulling them up my legs and
around my waist. The panties had four suspenders attached to each leg.
Like the rest of my body, my legs were completely hairless and as I
pulled each fishnet stocking carefully up my leg I started to let my
mind wonder to Mr Smith's visit.
His letter had said he liked pretty transvestites and had always dreamed
of having one as a girlfriend. I'm not sure why, but it was only at this
point that I started to grasp the enormity of just what Mr Smith
intended to take place this evening. He'd bought me an overtly sissy and
submissive outfit to wear for him and if I didn't obey his every command
I was going to be exposed as a transvestite to my parents. I was still a
virgin in every sense of the word and yet I'd watched some porn online,
so I had a fair idea what Mr Smith wanted me to do.
I snapped out of this thought and finished attaching the fishnet
stockings to the suspenders. Next came the set of short net petticoats
which were made of four layers of white, lace trimmed, net. I stepped
into them and drew them up around my waist, noting the lovely swishing
noise they made with every move.
The final stage was to put the French maid's dress on. It was made of
black satin with short puff sleeves trimmed with heavy white lace. The
bust line and hem were similarly decorated. I undid the short zip at the
back and carefully stepped into the admittedly beautiful garment. As I
pulled the dress up my body, I pushed my arms through the sleeves and
then reached behind me to do up the zip. I just loved the way the maid's
dress hugged my now feminised upper body and then flared out over the
net petticoats, barely covering my stocking tops. The dress came with a
white lacy apron and garter belt and I put these on. Stepping into the
three inch heel, court style, shoes I checked my watch and saw that
there was only five minutes left before Mr Smith returned.
I hurried downstairs as quickly as the high heels would allow and stood
once again in front of the mirror that Mr Smith had first spotted me
admiring myself in. The combination of the wig, make up and sexy dress
and heels had turned this slender young man into a pretty girl. There
was a little part of me that could be thankful to Mr Smith for giving me
the opportunity to look so special, but the nerves now filling every
part of my body told me that the price I had to pay for his gift was
scaring the wits out of me.
At precisely ninety minutes after his original visit, Mr Smith knocked
loudly on the front door. My heart nearly shot through my mouth and my
first thought was to dash upstairs and hide, but I knew if I did this Mr
Smith would tell my parents they had a sissy for a son. Literally
shaking I walked slowly to the door, acutely aware of the loud rustle of
my petticoats accompanying each step. I placed my hand on the latch and
took a deep breath and then slowly opened the door to expose my now
completely feminised self to Mr Smith.
"Oh my goodness me" exclaimed Mr Smith "you look fabulous, Jeremy.
Please tell me you have a special name for this wondrous creature you've
created" "Gemma" I replied in a barely audible whisper. "Gemma. Yes
that's perfect for you. Please call me Roger" Mr Smith continued. His
words couldn't disguise the look of pure naked lust etched all over his
face. For the first time I took in his physical appearance. He was a big
man in both height and build and towered over my slender frame. He had
quite a large beer belly and from seeing him in his garden in the summer
I knew he had a very hairy body.
"We'll go to your living room, Gemma" Mr Smith ordered. In case I had
any thoughts of disobeying him, Mr Smith placed a hand on my shoulder
and guided me towards my parent's living room. I still hadn't said a
word apart from confirming my femme name, and when Mr Smith told me to
wait at the door of the living room while he fetched a dining chair from
the dining room I merely nodded. In truth I was in something of a
trance, trying to come to terms with situation I found myself in. On the
one hand I loved the way I looked and if I'd been on my own I'd have
minced round the house, admiring myself in every mirror I came across.
However I was not dressing for myself.
Mr Smith snapped me out of my thoughts. "Sit on the dining chair for me,
Gemma". I'd entered the living room, still on autopilot and I'd hardly
noticed Mr Smith placing the chair in the middle of the room clear of
all the other furniture. I sat on the chair, subconsciously smoothing
the black satin skirt of my maid's dress and carefully arranging the net
petticoats.
I sharply came to, as Mr Smith came round behind me and without warning
pulled my arms behind me and tied them to the back of the chair with a
piece of rope he must have had in his pocket. "What you doing?" I cried,
suddenly afraid. "Nothing to worry about my sweet" Mr Smith replied as
if what he'd done was the most normal thing in the world.
"A little light bondage never did anybody harm" he continued "You're a
pervert" I hissed now angry and frightened. I tried to free my arms but
Mr Smith ignored my efforts and set to tying each of my stocking clad
legs to the front legs of the chair. The ropes were securely knotted and
I knew there was no way of escaping.
"So Gemma, you think I'm a pervert, but I'm not the young man dressing
up as a submissive sissy in preparation for meeting a man." Mr Smith
said sharply. "But you gave me no choice" I countered. "On the contrary,
Gemma, I gave you a very clear choice and I have to say I'm delighted
with the decision you've made. Now shall we get down to business?"
I sat bound in the chair, writhing against my bonds. I was determined to
show Mr Smith that I wanted to resist his intentions. "Your struggles
are turning me on even more, Gemma. You look so pretty and vulnerable".
I stopped my wriggling and waited to see what Mr Smith did next. Mr
Smith now stood about six feet in front of me and I realised with horror
that he was starting to undress. He looked at me directly as he slowly
unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a large torso covered in thick dark hair.
His fat belly poured over the top of his trousers. Kicking off his slip
on shoes he undid the zipper of his trousers and then removed his belt
and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of his trousers, quickly
slipped off his socks and then advanced to where I sat.
His large, hairy, fat body now stood just a foot away from me and
realising he was about to drop his boxer shorts I turned my head away
from him, trying to avoid looking at what he was about to expose to me.
I heard his boxer shorts fall to the ground and felt Mr Smith's hand
grab me by the jaw and turn my head to face him. "From now on you'll
call me Roger" Mr Smith said in a way that brooked no argument. I
couldn't avoid looking at his short stubby, circumcised penis as he now
stood just inches from me.
"First of all you'll make me stiff, Gemma, so open that pretty mouth for
me" I tried to clamp my mouth tightly shut. "We can do this anyway you
want Gemma, but I can assure you that you will be sucking my cock and
swallowing my semen." Mr Smith threatened. "Please Roger" I cried.
Rather than hear my plea, Mr Smith took the opportunity to push his cock
forcibly into my mouth. "Mmmph mmph" was all I could manage as Mr Smith
pressed his hand firmly against the back of my head to make sure his
cock stayed in my mouth. I realised that any resistance was futile
against such a big man and let my body go limp and almost lifeless.
Realising that I had ceased to struggle against him Mr Smith started to
work the shaft of his cock in and out of my mouth. His erection had now
reached its peak and although he wasn't that long, his girth was
stretching my lips to their limit. His fat belly was pressed against my
forehead and as his thrusts increased in strength his hairy balls banged
against my chin. I was trying desperately not to gag on him, although
the taste of his glans sliding along my tongue was making it
increasingly difficult not to wretch. At last he pulled his cock out of
my mouth and I was able to breathe properly and clear my throat.
"We can carry on like that until I cum, Gemma, but I think it would be
far more pleasant for you if you sucked my cock like the pretty little
sissy boy you are" Not wanting to him to force himself into my mouth
again I meekly nodded. He'd broken my resistance. "Now lick my knob like
it's the tastiest lollipop in the world" he commanded. I leant forward
and tentatively traced my tongue over his shiny glans "Ah, that's so
good, Gemma, I knew you'd submit to me in the end. It's in your nature"
I picked up the pace of my licking and Mr Smith started to moan in
pleasure. I started to wonder if Mr Smith was right. Was it in my nature
to ultimately submit to a man's sexual urges while dressed as a girl?"
At the moment I just couldn't accept that and as if to fight off the
suggestion suddenly cried out "You're blackmailing me Roger and you know
it"
"Stop fighting it Gemma and do your sissy duty" Mr Smith commanded and
once again pushed his hand against the back of my head. Not wanting to
lose control of the situation again I said "Ok. I'll do it". There was
no point in fighting Mr Smith and so I decided to get the job over and
done with as soon as possible. I leant forward a little and forming my
lips in an O slid them down his shaft. I started to bob my head up and
down, gradually increasing in speed. I'd switched my mind off by now,
realising I'd have plenty of time to think about what had happened
later. Mr Smith's moans were now incessant and his breathing was
becoming short and laboured. "Ooooh, ooh yes" Mr Smith cried as he shot
jet after jet of hot salty semen into my mouth. Some of his spunk shot
straight down my throat but he came so heavily that most of it dribbled
out of my lips, down my chin and all over the black satin maid's outfit.
When he was finished he pulled his cock from my mouth and made me lick
the remaining strands of semen from his knob. Finally he had finished
and I just sat there, tethered to my chair, a young man dressed as a
sissy maid, fresh semen in my belly and all over my face and clothes.
Mr Smith quietly dressed himself and then came to the chair and untied
my bonds. "I sure you've got lots to think about, Gemma. I'll be back
tomorrow evening, same time and in the meantime I want you to find your
mothers bridal gown and wear that for me. I think you can guess what
we'll be doing"
The following night Mr Smith did return. I had found Mum's wedding
dress. It was fabulous to wear being a very fussy and full eighties
style gown. Without going into lots of detail he made me suck him stiff
once more and then applied a ball gag to fill my mouth. He then pushed
me over the back of the sofa, gathered up the voluminous skirts and
petticoats and threw them over my head, encasing me in net, lace and
satin. He eased a well lubricated finger into me up to the knuckle and
then with much panting pushed his cock past my sphincter and deep into
me. At first the pain was excruciating, but due to the gag I could make
no noise. I had no choice but to let him take his pleasure of me and
after about ten minutes of increasingly rampant thrusting Mr Smith let
out a cry of ecstasy before filling my insides with another load of his
hot seed.
He pulled his cock from me, then lifted the folds of wedding gown and
petticoats from over my head and smoothed them back into place. He
unbuckled the ball gag and removed it from my mouth. "You're mine now,
Gemma" he said matter of factly. "When your parents get back I shall
call round to tell them I can offer you a job at my office. As you know
I work for myself, but you can help me with my paperwork. Of course the
first thing you'll do each day is change into my sexy secretary. Your
main role will be of course to satisfy my lust." As he laid out his
plans for me, I could feel his still warm semen dribbling from my well
rogered bottom and running down my inner thigh.
He was right, I was his and it seemed I had no choice but to become his
personal sissy girlfriend. The fact that I was already thinking about
wearing a pretty blouse and smart pencil skirt suggested that I had
already subconsciously accepted my role in life.
Happy Christmas?
Mikhaela
- 24.12.2021
- 31
- 0
