The Determined Man, Part 1 free porn video

OK, so this is the first part of a story I have been working on for some time. I started this story before any of the other stories that I have posted on fictionmania and it means a little more to me than the others. It's also longer, and has less sex in it, at least until the later parts. Now, a slow burner may not be to everyone's taste so, for the first three parts, until this story starts getting a bit wilder itself, I'll also be posting a totally unrelated short sexy story alongside it to make sure everyone ends their reading experience with a smile on their face. I would be really grateful if people could read both this story and the short fun one and leave reviews for either. Part 1 - Chapter 1 "Ha ha! Billy's trousers are falling down!" shouted one of the boys, giving a tug on his classmate's, rather too large and just slightly slipping trousers, first yanking them up, pressing them tight against the poor boy's crotch, and then bringing them down towards his knees. Not content with teasing his victim, the tormentor decided to bring his ill-fitting clothes to the attention of a teacher, thereby also attracting the attention of everyone in the playground this side of the rocket shaped climbing frame. "Miss! Miss! Why are Billy Cresswell's trousers falling down? Is it because they're hand-me-downs from his stupid big brother?" Great stress was placed on the word "hand-me-downs" and a cruel smile shared with those standing nearby The teacher hesitated for a second, aware that the factually accurate confirmation requested might not be in the best interests of the suffering boy standing in front of her holding up his trousers. Her hesitation was just long enough for one or two more quick thinking and merciless children, this time the girls, to start up cries of "Baggy Billy! Baggy Billy! His baggy clothes are old and silly!" Realising that she needed to take control of the situation, the responsible adult decided that she had better well say something. "Now stop it children! You shouldn't tease poor Billy. His parents don't have as much to spend on new school trousers as some of yours do." It was clear from the moment the words left the teacher's lips that this was not the right thing to have said, and soon all the children, boys and girls both, were looking at Billy Cresswell with mock sympathy, "Poor Baggy Billy!" their refrain. ----------------------------------------- William Cresswell shook himself from the unpleasant memories of his daydream and refocussed his attentions on the accounting spreadsheet on the monitor before him. Over the years, refocussing had become something of a speciality for William. When his dad had lost his job and the family had been forced to move to a smaller house and send little Billy, as he then was, to a new school, Billy had refocussed and made sure that any work he missed because the class was too disruptive to teach, he learnt at home. When his classmates all realised how little money his family had and teased him mercilessly, leading even his few friends to shun him for fear of getting caught in the crossfire, Billy shut out the acid voices of the children and refocussed on his work. He determined that one day he would make enough money and achieve sufficient status that no-one would mock him, and all of his old classmates would be falling over themselves to be his friend (he also determined, despite his tender years, that all of the entreaties he would receive in those far off years he imagined would fall on deaf ears). When Billy Cresswell moved from his home town of Scarborough to become the first person ever from his school to go to Oxford University, only to once again be met with the sound of mocking (this time in crude attempts to replicate his broad Yorkshire accent) Billy had once again refocussed. He silenced the voices that doubted his ability (which emanated partly from those around him and now partly from within his own psyche) and started to introduce himself as William, in preference to the more common, and more easily butchered "Billy". He once again determined to demonstrate, by force of intellect and character, that he was worthy to move in the company of his better spoken fellow students. When William had found himself bereft of the right conversational or social skills, withered from years of semi-self inflicted isolation, he realised his difficulty with honesty and calm, and refocussed. He read books on how to conduct oneself in society. In order to have something sophisticated to talk about, he listened to, and read about, classical music (actually falling quite genuinely in love with it). Eventually he even learnt how to speak to girls, maintaining his first serious relationship through his final year at University and beyond. When, two years later, William's girlfriend left the country to pursue a job in the USA, and William, having secured a position at one of London's leading accountancy firms, remained, William, with his only recently softening heart lying in tatters on the floor, once again refocussed. He placed himself firmly on the market with his customary professionalism and within a further year he had met Harriet, a doctor, a good match, and the love of his life. Within a further two years they were married. Although William was truly focussed on his sweetheart in the moment of their union, even their wedding day was not entirely immune from William's determination to succeed, several senior bosses from William's firm having been invited and attending the nuptials of one of their fastest rising stars. Essentially you see, William Cresswell was an achiever; A winner. However difficult he might find things that life threw at him, he was sure that he could overcome them: that ultimately, he was in control of his destiny. And that is why, as William, now 37 years old, silenced his lingering childhood demons and concentrated on the report he was preparing, he was quite sure that he would succeed in securing the promotion that would launch him into a new strata of society. He had received promotions before of course, but this one was a little special. This was a place on the board. This was heading up a department. This opportunity would mean that William Cresswell would be representing the firm at the highest of tables. William would walk amongst the real movers and shakers. He would become recognised and respected by owners of multi- national companies and by celebrities. He would dine with ministers of state and wealthy land owners. Although he had left the real classmates of St Cuthbert's primary school far away in Scarborough, still he felt their presence in his mind and he dearly wished to show these phantom tormentors the faces of the great and the good with whom he would now associate. And so once again William refocussed on his work. He was nearing completion of his task when he heard a knock at the door to his office. "Yes, come in. The door's open," he called out in his cultivated neutral accent. The door opened slowly and his PA, Gemma, peered into the room. "Hello William." She paused briefly before continuing, "Hector...um... Mr Salisbury would like to see you in his office. William wrinkled his nose in slight annoyance but remained silent and after a moment gave Gemma a smile to let her know that the message had been received. William had known Hector Salisbury for long enough to know how he behaved, but certain thinks still sometimes irked him, such as the way that, rather than simply get on the phone, Hector always asked a female assistant to pass on his messages, and how, even though William and Hector were at the same level of seniority, Hector always felt that he could simply summon William without explanation of his purpose or an enquiry as to whether William was free. William generally assumed that it was down to Hector's familiarity with having servants do his bidding from the day of his first words (or perhaps even earlier). Sometimes however, if did occur to William that Hector consciously did these things to make himself feel superior and to put other people, such as William himself, in their place. Frustratingly, Hector's acts of arrogance, whilst frequent, never rose to a level where there was any really tangible single action to point at as being inappropriate or unfair. In person he was generally charming and cheerful. He gave the impression in conversation of being someone who included everyone with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder. It was only when you looked at his membership of exclusive gentlemen's clubs and who he invited to private dinners, that you could see the very narrow class of persons with whom Hector Salisbury really wished to spend his time. William Cresswell was manifestly not one of the select few. And so it was that when he entered Hector's office, he had not been informed of the purpose of their meeting. He pushed open the half-open door to find Hector leaning back in his chair talking with Sarah, his PA. "Ah, hello William!" Hector greeted him. "Do take a seat." Hector gestured to a large comfortable chair, of which he had several in his plush office. "I was just planning the arrangements for the Ostara visit next week and thought you might like to make an appearance," he said breezily. The words hit William like a slap in the face. William had brought in the Ostara account himself and this was the first he was hearing of any visit. As far as he knew Hector had only been involved in a few fringe matters on the account, so how was it that Hector was now making the arrangement for a visit that William knew nothing about? William's mind was racing and he very nearly expressed his displeasure in a way that would have broken the unspoken rule that you should never openly betray your competitiveness with a colleague. Just in time, he realised that this must have come through the senior partner with overall responsibility for the account, Gerry Montcliffe. It would not do to question Mr Montcliffe, and so William held his emotions in check. "Erm, yes, Hector, I think it would make sense for me to be involved," William finally said in response. "I actually hadn't been aware that Ostara were visiting..." "Oh, sorry William!" Hector exclaimed with a smile and a half-laugh. "I would have thought that Gerry would have mentioned it. No?" Hector looked at William expecting some kind of reply but all William could do was shake his head, accompanied by a false smile. "Well, Gerry mentioned it to me a couple of weeks ago at his daughter's wedding" Hector continued. "Gerry and my father are old friends you see, so somehow I ended up on the guest list" Hector chortled innocently. "So Gerry happened to mention it and I said that I'd be very happy to make the arrangements. "Now, come to think of it , didn't you make the first contact with Ostara?" Hector asked. William nodded weakly in reply. "Well, you should come to the welcome dinner then!" pronounced Hector, as if bestowing a great gift upon lowly William. "Great, so it's settle,d" continued Hector, making it clear that the audience was at an end. "Now I've got to keep slaving away at the details, but Sarah will send you through the information when it's finalised." William rose from his chair and made his way back to his office. Normally the poaching of a client relationship would be frustrating but not a big deal. However, this was a little more serious. Ostara were a small, but very promising technology client, and just the kind of foot-in-the-door to the new hi-tech sector that William's well-regarded but rather old- fashioned accountancy firm were looking for. On top of that, the timing could not be worse. The board were just weeks away from announcing the replacement for the retiring Mr Montcliffe and it was generally regarded as being a straight choice between William and Hector. William knew that he was the better accountant. He was more professional, more efficient and just generally more on the ball than Hector. He had seen their billable hours and knew that he had a clear edge. Hector though, had connections. From very early in his career, Hector had brought in work. Family friends, friends from school, friends from the club. William, having no connections to speak of, had found it rather more of a challenge, but just in the last year or so he had been starting to make excellent progress. Ostara was one of his best hopes and he was determined not to lose the control of the account, or the credit that came with it. --------------------------- A few hours later William was in bed holding his wife Harriet, his arms wrapped around her from behind as they lay together in the dark. She took his hands and drew them tighter around her, pressing their bodies closer together. She purred and wriggled into him. William smiled, feeling again the afterglow of the intimate, sensual, loving sex that they had just enjoyed. William loved the feeling of Harriet's skin against his own. He loved to trace the soft curves of her body in the privacy of their bed. Soon Harriet's breaths grew longer and more open and the muscles in her body relaxed even further. She was sleeping, and, as he did almost every night, William took this as his signal to try to sleep himself. For, even though he felt nothing but love for Harriet, William knew that in order to sleep he needed something else. He needed his own space. He needed his own privacy. And most of all, he needed his own fantasies. Almost as far back as William could remember, in order to feel truly at peace with the world, at any time of day or night, and especially in order to sleep, he needed to imagine a different life, a different person. Gently, William extracted his arm from under Harriet's body, a manoeuvre made easier by the soft silk of her nightdress, and quietly rolled over to his side of the bed. This being done, such that he could at least trick his mind into feeling privacy, William retreated from his life; from the pressures and worries of his job, from the expectations of his position and status, from having to make decisions and having to stick to principles, and descended into the safe, comforting embrace of his fantasies. William's fantasy was always the same. He lay back, closed his eyes and tried to forget the form of his body, shutting out every stimulus. He disconnected his mind from his senses, creating a void. Then, in place of his body, he imagined another. In his mind's eye he created a delicate foot, with perfect arch and supple skin. He imagined long, slender, smooth legs, gently brushing together at the calf. He focussed his mind until he could almost reach out and touch his new wider hips and rounder, plump bottom. He obliterated the experience of his thickish middle and in its place created a narrow lean waist with a taut yet soft tummy. He imagined long wavy hair brushing against his shoulders and his face, tickling long eyelashes and full shapely lips. With a presence in his mind almost more real than the night around him, two large breasts rose from his chest, in perfect symmetry and form, curving away from his body and then around, taking in the adornment of two large hard nipples and then back down to his ribcage. Finally, the focussed power of his intellect and emotions reached his genitals, conjuring there a phantom twin pair of labia just slightly protruding beyond a warm, moist slit. William's fantasy was to be a woman. On many nights this exercise, this creation, would be sufficient to send William off into the land of dreams. However, his anxiety about the whole business with Ostara meant that tonight, William needed to go deeper. He needed something else, a further, also familiar stage to the fantasy. Many people fantasise about obtaining greater power, greater abilities and respect. Maybe they fantasise that they have money or a high enough position to control their own life. Perhaps they fantasise that they will achieve great things and earn fame or respect. William's fantasies were a little different. William's fantasies involved giving up, giving over, allowing someone else to take control. And not just control of decisions, but control of himself, leaving himself to simply be. In William's fantasies this control was given up to a creator: A man that had chosen William's new feminine form for him. A man who had taken away all of William's power and responsibility. Who had stripped William of his need to succeed and his desire to always do the right thing and, in their place, had left a creature of that man's desire. A creature of pure female sexuality, with nothing to hold it back. With these thoughts in William's mind, eventually, he drifted off to sleep. William awoke, as was always the case after a night of such fantasies, with a soul racked with guilt. Why, he asked himself, did he wish to lose his life? He had worked so hard to create it and he had achieved almost everything he ever wanted. He deeply loved both his wife and the time that he spent with her. He enjoyed his work which made use of his intellectual facilities in a most fulfilling way. Why then did he need to imagine himself as someone else? And why a woman? And why a submissive woman? This part troubled William particularly as he had always believed strongly in equality of the sexes and indeed he had always found partners who were strong and independent, with whom he could have a deep relationship. He shuddered to think that a part of him saw women's rightful place as being submissive, or that he desired such a position for himself. And yet he did. He could not deny it to himself. He desired to be female, to be pretty, to be looked after as a precious thing by someone stronger. The thought nagged at him every day of his life. Pictures of beautiful women on television and in magazines were torture to him, he envied them so. Despite all his achievements and success, none of it seemed to matter when those feelings took hold. William of course was strong minded enough to not let it interfere unnecessarily with his march along the path of success. He was also self- aware enough to realise that it posed a threat. For this reason he attempted to deny its place in his life, even to himself. On occasions when that failed, he convinced himself of the manifestly higher importance of other matters in his life. On occasions when that failed, he embarked upon a resolute mission to understand his affliction so as to identify it's cause and root it out. He had invested a great deal of money, and hundreds of fifty minute sessions once a week, in order to progress that mission. Each time he left the therapists office he felt that maybe he had made some kind of breakthrough. Perhaps it was the pressure to be good and righteous and responsible that forced him to split off pleasure and happiness into a different personality; perhaps it was the result of being rejected by the boys at school, causing a gravitation towards the seemingly happy friendship group of the girls; perhaps the shyness and self-pity of his youth made it impossible for him to imagine himself being accepted as a partner by a girl and so he created another way of experiencing closeness with the female gender. Or maybe he was just born that way. Or maybe a combination of the above? If it was a combination, what was "real" and what was "made-up"? He could remember fantasising about being a girl since he was five years old. But when did the dream girl become beautiful, or highly sexual? When did the dream girl become submissive? Each time he left that office he felt hope that he might overcome his affliction, but each night it was, instead, William that was defeated, helpless in the face of his feelings. Maybe, he came to realise, slowly, terrifyingly, that even if he managed to understand the cause (and maybe he already did), that didn't change the reality of who he was. Sitting up on the edge of his bed that morning, he once again shook his head and resolved to push past this barrier, just as he had pushed past all of the other barriers that life had set before him. He smiled across at Harriet, who was beginning to wake up herself and leant over to give her a kiss. ----------------------------- Chapter 2 It was the day of the welcome dinner for the Ostara delegates and William was sat in front of his computer screen, poring over the confidential list of current projects that Mr Montcliffe had passed on to him to familiarise himself with before the meeting. He strongly suspected, from a few loose comments, that Hector had somehow got access to it a day in advance and William was quietly fuming. As was his way, his method of dealing with this was to work even harder. He was now ploughing through the list of current Ostara projects and workstreams, considering what tax breaks might be available and how the company could be best structured to facilitate the easiest flow of capital. The database contained several layers of information but most of it wasn't relevant for the purposes of high level planning, and given the time constraints, William was mostly just scanning through the headline information. He was surprised by the breadth of different sectors that Ostara appeared to have a foothold in. When William had first met representatives of the company he had known them as a robotics research company for the US military, but strangely it seems that they had merged with a pharmaceutical company a couple of years ago and were now operating in a number of fields. William was even more surprised at all the countries that they operated in, considering that they were still a small company. Although William had first come across Ostara on a business trip to the US to visit some of the firms' established blue-chip manufacturing clients, he was aware that they had been primarily based in the UK. However, following the merger with the pharmaceutical company, they had recently moved substantial operations to a number of developing countries around the world, seemingly leaving only a small presence in their London office. As William scanned through the projects, with an eye for an opportunity that he was sure Hector had failed to match, one description, buried in a raft of others, caught his eye: "Nano-technology body morphing" it pronounced. William clicked through to find out more information, finding himself presented with a sub-list. "Age regression; Post-injury reconstruction; Gender Reassignment..." The list continued, but William had stopped reading. He hesitated, unsure of whether to continue. Slowly he moved the mouse pointer over his chosen selection and clicked. "Sub-Project Description: Fully functional genetic gender reassignment by application of nanotechnology. Project Status: Initial laboratory testing completed. Project suspended, awaiting further funding and analysis." William took a deep intake of breath, blinked and re-read the words to make sure that his imagination had not got the better of him. No, there is was: "Fully functional genetic gender reassignment". William remained almost motionless for at least a minute, perhaps two, trying to process this information. He had read several science fiction stories on the Internet and had often incorporated this kind of thing into his fantasies. Now here it was, breaking into his real life. He had to know more. He spent some time researching on the Internet, but came up with a blank. It looked like this was a project where Ostara were completely out there on their own with no competitors anywhere close by, and which they had managed to keep extremely secret. William was astounded. The realisation came to him that he needed to keep hold of this account, and in order to do that he needed to impress Ostara at the dinner this evening. He filed away his extraordinary new knowledge into the back of his mind and continued on through the list, preparing ever more diligently. --------------------------------- William had never quite acclimatised to receiving deferential service from others, and dealing with waiters in the kind of traditional exclusive restaurants that his firm used for receptions was no exception to this rule. His early career attempts to be friendly and converse in a person to person way with service providers had generally been met with a discouraging half smile from the waiters, accompanied with the addition of what he perceived as an even more strenuous "sir" at the end of each of their sentences. It also seemed to create awkward silences amongst his fellow guests. As a result William now limited himself to pleases and thank-yous. It was in this manner that the meal with the Ostara representatives proceeded, the five seated guests and two standing waiters in close physical proximity but infinitely separated in spirit. Around the table were Gerry Montcliffe, Hector and William together with two representatives of Ostara; Anthony and Victoria. Victoria had been William's initial contact with Ostara. She was based in the London office, and he knew her fairly well. Anthony on the other hand (or "Tony" as he insisted he liked to be called in "casual and friendly environments such as these"), was based at one or more of the overseas offices and William had only met him a couple of times before. He had been introduced variously as Chief Executive, Chief Technology Officer and Founder of the company. However, he didn't seem to William like any business leader he had met before, and given his unwillingness to go into the details of any particular project, William rather doubted whether this "Tony" knew a great deal about the technology being developed by Ostara either. Tony came off more like an arrogant flamboyant playboy than anything else, gorging himself on wine and food and making inappropriate comments regarding one of the waitresses. However, on occasion there was a glimpse of a steely, merciless undercurrent a couple of layers below the surface of his personality. As is always the case in these faux friendly business dinners, conversation moved between small talk and culture on the one hand and business and numbers on the other, moving steadily more towards the latter as the evening progressed. It was an art that William had had to learn, but one which apparently Hector was born to. While William could hold his own in discussing all the vagueries of life, he really came into his own when talk turned to accountancy and what the firm could do for Ostara. He concisely and clearly explained his plans for how the firm could reduce Ostara's tax and increase their administrative efficiency, neatly taking in all of their major areas of interest. Naturally the discussion centred on their major and active projects and the subject of the body morphing project did not arise. After about an hour, he knew that he had succeeded in his goal of impressing Tony and Victoria and he was feeling on solid ground. The dinner was drawing to a close and Gerry, Hector and Tony all excused themselves and made for the gents, leaving William and Victoria alone at the table. William was feeling confident and in control, and with the others out of the way, he ventured to casually raise the subject that had been eating away at him all day. "So, one thing that caught my eye in your project list was the body morphing nano-technology," William remarked. "Seemed like a potentially very promising project. I was a little surprised to see that the funding was on hold." Victoria kept her voice low, but seemed happy enough to discuss the subject. "Oh, yes, that is an interesting project. There are many possible applications, such as post-injury reconstruction and even age regression..." "And gender reassignment" interrupted William hastily. The words hadn't been planned. They had just escaped his mouth and he had tried to stop himself as he spoke, creating a rather strangulated increase in pitch at the end. He realised his mistake and felt the blood blushing his cheeks. Victoria stopped and looked at him from the side with slightly narrowed eyes. It must have been only a couple of seconds, but it seemed like an age before she continued talking. "Yes, and gender reassignment as well. Unfortunately, although the project has a great deal of potential, it also has substantial risks and is currently prohibitively expensive for a company such as ours. We are at quite an early stage of development and for regulatory and other reasons there is a need to keep much of what we are doing secret, so these are not ideal circumstances in which to obtain funding." Victoria's explanation was interrupted by a jovial shout from the returning Tony. "Giving away all of our secrets are you Vicky?" he said with a laugh as he took his seat. "Not to worry, I've got you on such a tight contract that I'd sue you for everything, right down to your sexy little panties." "Ha ha," William forced a laugh in response. "No need for that I'm sure." "No. I don't need to sue her to get what I want" replied Tony, giving William a significant man to man glance, intended to give William to believe that Tony did not need to recourse to legal proceedings to leave Vicky in a state of undress. Tony raised his glass again to finish off the remainder of his wine. The party fully reconstituted and the bill paid, the five of them stepped out into the street. Goodbyes were exchanged and they each began to go their separate ways, Hector and Gerry hailing separate taxis to whisk them off to their large houses in the suburbs and Tony obtaining the services of a third to take him to his hotel. William and Victoria, being the only two based in central London, were left to walk the short distance to the Tube station together. The two exchanged pleasantries and work schedule details until they entered the otherwise empty station. They were about to separate for different platforms when Victoria touched William on the arm and gave him that same narrow-eyed look that she had given him in the restaurant. William froze and swallowed, fearing and hoping at the same time that she may return to the subject that first elicited such an expression. After a moment's pause, she spoke. "So, I noticed that you specifically mentioned the gender reassignment project." William's muscles tensed even further. He wanted her to go on, but it seemed that she expected a response. "Well...erm.... amongst other things.." He stumbled over his reply. "An area of particular interest perhaps?" Vicky enquired. William didn't know what to say, and this time Vicky came to his rescue "For a friend perhaps". "Ah, yes, well, maybe, yes for a friend." "Well, I didn't quite tell you the whole story earlier" continued Vicky, her voice now barely above a whisper. "It's all very hush hush, but our experiments are rather more advanced than our official records show. If your friend would like to know more, then you may want to suggest to them that they arrive at this address at 10.00 this Saturday." Vicky pushed a scrap of paper into William's hands, turned on her heel and immediately strode through the ticket barriers and down the escalator. William was trembling and it took him several seconds before he opened up the paper. The address was the intersection of two roads in a business park somewhere in a sparsely populated area of east London and William knew the designated area only vaguely. "Could this be real?" he asked himself. Could this actually be a way to fulfil his lifelong fantasy? If it was real, did he actually want to? The questions raced around his head in leaps and bounds, overtaking one another. That night William succeeded in only the smallest fragments of sleep.