The Mrs Hollingsworth Project Part 8
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The "Mrs. Hollingsworth Project" (Part 9) free porn video
"The 'Mrs. Hollingsworth Project'" (Part 9)
"'He' actually called me Mr. Hawthore the other day," Richard said as he
sat at his desk in his office while Ms. Lawrence paced the room. "Of
course there's Ben Hawthorne from the Los Angeles meeting and there's
Morton Craig, Hunt Sewell, Donner Post from others too. Was that designed
to confuse me or something? I mean he's coming along so well that I
didn't want to say anything. Maybe it's too many meetings or jet lag or
something," He reasoned.
"We're taking him along too fast," Grace noted.
"Well, there's no going back with him, not anymore. Even you must know
that by now," Richard reasoned.
"Yes, that's quite obvious now. But, his thoughts haven't been right
since I fitted him for that brassiere at the clinic," She added. And
after his little 'vacation' his few days off you had me bring him up to
his new boudoir. I felt his hesitation after he was bathed and shaved and
powdered and massaged and his hair and makeup was done and I dressed him.
I felt the hesitation as I zipped him into a dress and he was properly
feminine once again. He's nearly resigned to living as a woman now and he
may come along eventually. But now, you have this mountain retreat
planned. Some sort of billionaire's fetish party? A competition to see
who has the best 'she-male' in his harem? What is that?"
"Nothing really. Another accomplishment, another trophy," Richard
replied. "There's nothing illegal about it if that's what you're
wondering. But it is a perfect plan isn't it?" he replied as he looked up
over a few papers.
"We'll arrive, Tiffany will be on my arm as always as my secretary, or
escort and as prim and proper and as ladylike as you can make her. We'll
enjoy the atmosphere and get to meet the guests and other 'ladies' and at
the last minute when the other's show off their kept and pampered
creations we'll show off ours," Richard surmised.
"So everyone will know that those fashion models mincing around the room
will be boys in dresses? Ah, all except Tim!" Grace said with surprise
as things came into focus. "Tiffany has been seen and has traveled with
you for months now, nobody sees her as Tim. They all see her as your
secretary Tiffany. Nobody knows or even has an inkling!"
"And when they do it will be a revelation won't it?" Richard added.
"We're not keeping Tim on as a she-male, perish the thought. The others
who can afford it keeping their pampered curiosities to spend money on and
then show off, to keep and admire them at the extreme limit of femininity
but in such a fashion their wives won't fear any real competition or
adultery or God forbid the upsetting of the family trust and the money
that would involve.
Let them do as they want with their interests, let them waste their time,
but we're going farther, much farther with Tim. No half measures. The
ultimate winner of the ultimate contest. The prettiest most feminine
woman in the world. With no expense spared. The custom made man who
becomes the ultimate trophy-wife," he finished with satisfaction knowing
his creation would certainly win.
"The world is your oyster. Another one-upmanship stunt to show that the
great Richart Hollingsworth is truly at the pinnacle of the world's
billionaires at both work and at play. Is it megalomania or the control,
how much is enough?" she replied.
"That contest was established long before I heard of it. The excentrisic
whims of the idle rich. My plan, although it may cross this boundary
momentarily the ultimate result is far greater and it's no whim. If you
have enough money and power you can live as you like, have anything you
want-as few people can. It's an arrangement, there's nothing illegal in
anything I have done. You've known about my plan from the beginning,"
Richard said as he got up and rounded his desk. "We both know what Tim
is, he was the perfect choice. He's had to put up with a few changes, the
physical ones that go beyond the dressing but he's been very well
compensated, and compensated every step of the way. He will never have to
work again, he'll be taken care of and live a pampered life of luxury from
now on. He knows that and has had the opportunity to leave of his own
accord at every step in this process," Richard reasoned.
"He left once remember? But oh, yes. Back at another crummy job, wasting
his true talents, the dingy cold apartments the baloney sandwiches, the
macaroni and cheese dinners. And you know what I like too don't you. We
both well remember the vintage housewives of yesteryear don't we? The
class, the deportment and grace, the demeanor, the poise. Well, I found a
way to get that back. Today's women won't dress like women anymore. No
makeup, the rats nest of unkempt hair, overweight women with blotchy
complections in shapeless sweatshirts and stretch pants as they lumber
around in dirty sneakers. Disgusting! And, they don't act like women
either. This macho, tattooed 'tough-chick' attitude turns my stomach.
You said it yourself. Isn't that why you took early retirement? Closing
your Grace Lawrence Academy for Young Ladies? Tell me I'm wrong?" Richard
replied with justified satisfaction. "And ah, you've been paid too
haven't you?"
"Yes, I've been paid. Then you'll win this contest and then Tim will
become Tiffany for real. And you'll both live happily ever after," Grace
replied.
"Everyone wins. He'll come along and have everything he could ever want.
And I'll get the proper trophy wife I've always wanted. I've already had
his paperwork changed from Tim Benson to Tiffany Benson. Once all the T's
are crossed and the I's dotted Tiffany will become the third and hopefully
last Mrs. Richard Hollingsworth," Richard finished.
"He doesn't know about this upcoming 'sissy' pageant. Or about becoming
Mrs. Hollingsworth," Grace noted.
"Not yet. I agree the first part is a bit of an indulgence, one upmanship.
But it's really just two more parts of the plan isn't it. One step at a
time," Richard added.
The meeting ended as soon as Grace excused herself and left the large
office.
It was late in the morning and Tim was up in his boudoir. His hair curled
and set to feminine perfection a pink satin bow pinned to the front of the
hairdo. His long salon nails were gloss red again, his face, porcelain
smooth now made up perfectly, the gloss red lips matching the nails, the
long lashes and pale blue eyeshadow and mascara and a rose blusher
rounding out the look. As a serving lady removed the silver breakfast
cart that had contained a toast and coffee breakfast she left the room
just as Grace arrived and entered through the white double doors of Tim's
boudoir. She took notice of his almost excessively feminine appearance
but was used to it by now. She remembered Richard's observations then
made some of her own as she looked on at Tim.
She watched as he took a new pair of the expensive vintage beige seamed
stockings out of the package and fluffed them out. She noticed the shine
of the filmy stockings and the ornate treatment of the Manhattan heels.
She watched as he fluffed his nightgown up to expose his ladylike legs and
gathered the stocking up with expert now feminine ease then pointing his
delicate foot she noticed the gloss red pedicure as he worked the nylon
stocking onto his foot.
She watched as he gently worked and pulled the stocking up the smooth
perfumed leg, the sheer fabric whispering, tightening and shining in the
light as he worked the nylon stocking up his leg feeling the seam at the
back, making sure it was taut and straight as he continued dressing. She
heard the faint zip and swish of the stocking as he pulled and smoothed it
up high on his thigh and noticed Tim's vacant glazed stare and how his
breathing deepened and his long lashes fluttered as he made sure the full
seam at the back was still tight and razor straight and the nylon stocking
was worked and smoothed to its fullest extent. He held the beige welt
tight and began gartering the stocking top with three garters per leg and
then adjusted the garter tabs pulling them tight until they held the beige
stocking welt taut. She watched as he, still in a nearly hypnotic state
gathered the remaining stocking and repeated the process and smiled to
herself at the irresistible feminizing pull and the control that women's
lingerie still had upon him. Control that she had nurtured and fostered
over these many months. Tim was now fully encompassed in her feminizing
web. More exquisitely feminine than any debutante she'd ever worked with.
She noticed the pearl necklace and dangle earrings, the hair and makeup
and the nails and how after he inspected his stockings then fluffed his
gown down and stood to smooth it out how he teetered on the pink stiletto
heeled slippers with the fluffy pink feathered trim. She noticed how well
the floor length pink nylon nightgown fit him now and the multi-layered
pink nylon chiffon robe as it swirled and floated as Tim moved about as
the perfume hung in the air.
There was a plastic zippered garment bag on the bed that contained two
gowns. Tim had unzipped the bag and had been looking over the contents.
Grace took notice.
There was an emerald green satin gown and a gleaming white one. Both very
feminine but strange looking for gowns. A brooch type of clasp centered
on the waist and opened allowing the dress to be put on almost like a long
men's tuxedo coat with tails. The back of the gown went just past knee
length while the front flared open to clasp at the waist. Tim also
noticed the matching shoes, matching hats and a bag containing frilly
lingerie that matched the gowns. There were even small fingerless gloves
with lace ends that appeared to small at the wrist to be gloves and they
had lacings on them, very elaborate. And heavy lace trimmed satin shaper
tap panties but these were different. He noticed an elastic circular
opening at the front of both the white and green shapers. He turned to
Grace with a quizzical look on his face.
"What kind of outfits are these?" he blurted out.
"Those are for the party, for later dear, at the mountain retreat.
Richard wants you to look exceptionally lovely you know. But we have
other things to do today," she said as she quickly gathered the things,
put them back in the garment bag and zipped everything away. She then
took the bag back to the large walk-in closet then began rummaging for a
suitable vintage day dress for Tim. She fluffed one off the hangar rod
then swished back into the boudoir mincing on her own high heels, her
nylon stockings issuing the familiar whispering zip.
After another few minutes of primping she had Tim in full lingerie and had
zipped him into the vintage knee length dress. The matching shoes and
purse and scarf came next, and then a ladies car coat for the cool weather
outside. They both were soon leaving the boudoir.
Richard was busy in his office several floors below where it was business
as usual running an empire. While Tim was upstairs with Ms. Lawrence and
still under her expert tutelage. She noticed the few staff that moved
around the penthouse apartment, the uniformed men and women, the cleaning
people, the kitchen people and the like that did their work while the
occupants were away. They'd gotten used to "Tiffany" by now. Maybe
Richard threatened reprisals against anyone who whispered or smirked in
Tim's direction but somehow now, that didn't seem to be the case. Tiffany
was already seen as the lady-of-the-house. A pampered lady, an
exquisitely feminine socialite, window dressing for the opulent penthouse
quarters, eye candy for emperor Hollingsworth a hostess in waiting. That
was Tim's job now.
Grace took note that her work was nearly finished, or had been for weeks.
She was now here for Tim's support, for that booster shot that would now
reinforce and permanently cement his new role. She realized that Tim's
trip to the top of the ladder was now only a step or so away. One more
major "procedure" and it would be complete. Tim would be able to
luxuriate in his newfound femininity but the process and the conclusion of
the plan would also insure Tim's total and inescapable feminization. It
would soon be permanent and there would be no going back. Maybe a type of
ultimate insurance policy for Richard, but the easy lifestyle would still
be there and with that permanence Richard would be satisfied once and for
all that he now indeed possessed the ultimate "trophy wife."
She escorted Tim out of the penthouse. After an express elevator ride
they soon emerged at ground level in the lobby of the building and made
their way out. Made their way out for a "ladies" day of shopping, for
further practice for Tim. But even the practice wasn't really needed
anymore. Women came and went as did the men with all the expected results
as Grace surveyed their walk down the sidewalk. How the women noticed
Tiffany, what "she" was wearing, noticing the white silk chiffon scarf
tied over "her" head to protect the feminine hairdo and how "she" carried
the purse over her right forearm. And how the men spent more time
noticing the now feminine face and the ladylike legs as "she" minced along
past several shop windows with Grace. The only thing left now was the
upcoming vacation at the mountain retreat and after one more procedure Tim
would become Richard's ultimate prize.
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