The Determined Man, Part 3 free porn video

Part 3 of my longer, character led story, The Determined Man. This part contains a lot of internal thoughts of the main character, including his thoughts on his desire to be a woman, including how he feels about it and speculation on the cause of his desire. Please note that this characters thoughts are not my own. I know that some people have strong beliefs about these sorts of things. I wouldn't ever criticise anyone's beliefs because I really don't know my own thoughts and I think each person has to stand by what seems true according to our own experience. All I would ask is that you please try not to take offence at either the thoughts of the main character or the events in this story. It is entirely fictional. It certainly isn't autobiographical. For one thing, unlike my main character, I have talked about my feelings and what I do with my partner, who is pretty great about it. I really don't know the causes of my feelings, through I do think about it quite a lot and feel good or bad about the whole thing at different times. I am certainly not saying that these feelings are not natural, not right or shameful in any way, but I think it's worth exploring the fact that some of us feel that way, at least some of the time. Anyway, this is entertainment, and this is far too long a preamble for entertainment, so I better get on with it. Part 3 - Chapter 4 Over the next week or so William must have screwed up the paper containing the bank details and then smoothed it back out at least a dozen times. He even threw it into the bin in his bedroom once when waking in the night and seeing Harriet peacefully sleeping, only to fish it back out again in the morning after looking into the mirror and finding that the face he saw now felt like that of an interloper compared to the vision Victoria had shown him. At work he found himself distracted and he was aware that he was losing more ground to Hector, both on the Ostara account and on other matters. Somehow though, it didn't seem to matter so much to him. Over the next few days he came to realise that in his heart he believed that he would pay the money; That he would leave his work, his family and friends, and his wife, and go to the facility. Even though his mind was still fighting, desperately conducting ultimately fruitless research on Ostara, and the project, his soul had made its choice. And so it was that he started liquidating his assets. He closed savings accounts, moving the money to a single account with immediate access. He told Harriet that his car was in the garage for repairs, while secretly arranging for a sale through the classified ads. Finally, he even took some of his wife's most expensive jewellery and sold it through one of the less reputable looking shops in Hatton Garden. All in all he managed to scrape together ?221,426.50. Such was the state of his mind that it never occurred to him to think about what a coincidence it was that he had almost the exact right amount. Either that or he never allowed himself to consciously consider the question. It was on a Thursday morning before going to work that William was sat on the sofa he and Harriet had bought together, his laptop open in front of him on the antique coffee table that Harriet's grandmother had left them when she passed. Open on the screen in front of him was the online banking portal for his new secret account. In his hand was the much creased single piece of paper with numbers and letters stamped on it as if from an old typewriter. Harriet was not yet awake and William was alone. He looked around the pleasant room they had decorated together soon after they were married. There were a few small marks of paint on the skirting which were testament to their enthusiasm for building a life together, but also to their lack of skill and experience in using a brush. They were small enough to be unnoticeable to most casual observers but to William's eyes they had first been an annoying reminder of his lack of perfection and then later an endearing prompt to cherished memories of joint endeavour and purpose. Now, with the codes that would destroy his present life entered into the soulless electronic form in front of him, just waiting for him to click a large simple button marked "confirm", William wondered whether things might have been different if he had told Harriet of his fantasies and desires. At first he had thought that a true loving relationship would put an end to the thoughts that he felt shamed him so deeply, and so he had decided to hold back. And he was sort of right, for a while. It at least diminished in importance, but then so did everything in those heady early days. Together they discovered with relief and excitement that they had many shared interests, joyfully inducted the other into those interests that weren't yet shared, and thrillingly embarked on some entirely new interests that neither of them had ever before had the confidence to try. He recalled how, just a few weeks into their courtship, he had invited her to go with him to a contemporary jazz concert, a genre about which he had known little at the time. It was partly an attempt to impress her with his sophistication, but also it was because somehow she gave him the self-confidence to explore experiences, and even aspects of himself, that he'd always wanted to investigate, but had always felt might be overstepping his boundaries, or which he felt might reveal too much of himself to the outside world. Her interest in him, in his thoughts and in what he did, validated him. They had found themselves in a small bar in the east end, William shifting his gaze nervously between the small stage and the face of the girl that he, by this time, really quite liked. He had been desperately concerned that the band, who he knew only by description given by a more informed work colleague, might end up being horribly cliched, or even worse, embarrassingly over-intellectual, and that this might prompt questions from his date to which he would be able to respond with only poorly constructed speculation or an awkward silence. As was to become a pattern for later years, Harriet broke the tension by avoiding the head- bound world of theorising, and instead engaging on a truly personal level. With Harriet, discussing intimate matters that might feel awkward and intrusive if spoken about with others, became like coming home. "Look at that guy over there with the plaited beard" she had whispered with a little giggle. "Respect due!" she half joked "I haven't seen anything like that since the guys that my granddad used to play music with. Actually," she added, taking a good look around "he used to play in places a lot like this. My mum used to bring me to his gigs when I was a little girl before he passed away." Harriet had made William laugh that night and had welcomed him in to her life, both to her family and friends and into her own private thoughts. Harriet broke William's nervousness that day at the jazz club, and he had talked with her about people and relationships and memories in a way that he had never done with anyone else before or since. Listening to the band that evening, who turned out to be actually very good, became a mere backdrop to the harmonies and lyrical interplay of their conversation. It was also on that same day that William, finding himself surprisingly relieved of the requirement to prove himself and impress others, had really started to fall for Harriet. The process was complete two weeks later when, following the success of their first jazz concert, they had attended another, on this occasion seeing a band found by Harriet. This time the music was completely unfollowable and impenetrable. Out of a perception that he needed to validate Harriet's choice William had waxed lyrical in an attempt to divine a greater purpose and meaning behind the band only to be once again relieved from such fallacies by Harriet. "Yeah, I absolutely understand what you're saying, but they were just a bit shit really weren't they," she had replied, causing them both to chuckle and smile all the way home. And so his dark secret had faded into the background. Eventually though, the familiar thoughts and feelings crept back into his life. Nights were once again filled with longer and longer journeys into his imagination, and his eye began to linger on the mannequins in the windows of women's clothing stores, imagining the feel of silk or lace close against his skin. By the time he admitted to himself that the thoughts had returned in full force, he and Harriet were already engaged. With typical resolution William determined to throw off this obsession that, he reasoned, was just a crutch he had created to help him through some lonely times. Now he had Harriet, once he was married, he would be able to end it. And once again he pushed it back, going cold turkey by simple force of will. This time just long enough for most of the plans for the wedding to be made. The venue was booked, a dress was bought, invitations sent out. It was probably the stress of it that sent William into a spiral. For a couple of months his thoughts were in freefall; His determination extending just far enough to keep his hands and eyes steady while his mind raged inside. During this time his family and friends, Harriet included, thought that he was quiet because he was so focussed on the preparations. In truth, he would spend days at a time with no other thought in his head, imagining how he might be transformed into a girl in every forum of his life. The office, the gym, even the train to work. When he managed to pull himself out of it he desperately desired to tell all to Harriet, but every time he nearly did it, he would see the joy in her eyes, the excitement at having just picked the flowers or decided upon the bridesmaid's dresses, and he couldn't bear to put all of that at risk. At least he could say with all honesty that on his wedding day he thought only of the beauty and loveliness of his bride. Even for the honey-moon he was truly able to offer himself to her, mind, body, spirit and sex. William loved his wife very dearly, and maybe this was the reason why he couldn't tell her in any of the rest of their many years together. She had agreed to marry William, the confident, strong man; the successful accountant. It would be a betrayal to now land her with William, the self-hating, weak, half-man that William saw himself as in his darker moments. And so he had arrived here, hunched over a keyboard, trembling finger poised over the mouse. Or rather, they had arrived here. This decision was entirely in William's hands, power concentrated purely in the index finger of his right hand, but it was a defining point in not only his life, but also in Harriet's. He thought one more time about telling her everything and felt a sense of impending guilt behind and above him, like water building up behind a damn. He couldn't handle it. He wanted to escape it. What would happen to her? The thought came to William's mind, but he refused to consider it, denied it even acknowledgement. He focussed his mind and clicked the button. ---------------------------------------------------------- Oh how darling this little dress is! My dear, dear husband will be so proud of our baby daughter when he sees her in this. The cute bunny on the front even has a soft fuzzy tail! You, know I think I have a bow just that exact shade of pink which I can put in our little girl's hair to match it. Oh yes! He will be so proud! He'll smile at her, his deep steel blue eyes crinkling up at the corners, as he gazes at this beautiful baby girl that I've given him. And then (oh my!) he may even smile at me too, thanking me for bringing even more prettiness into his life. And I am just so, so happy to do that. He works ever so hard and just bringing a little light to his life, a little softness after a day of making difficult decisions, well that is what I live for. I would do anything at all to make him happy. That is why I spend hours every day cleaning his house; dusting and polishing until it shines, and then even more time making sure that I look my best for him. Every time I touch up my lipstick it's to make my mouth more inviting for him. Every time I run a brush through my hair it's to make it softer to his touch. Every time I pick out a new dress I think about how it shows off my long smooth legs or plump breasts to their very best for his delight. Well....it's mostly for him! I can't say I don't enjoy it as well! I am a girl after all! Yes, I am his girl, and it makes me just so happy. And now I have given him two more girls as well! I have carried them each in my belly for nine months, gone through the glorious pain of childbirth and suckled them at my breast. I have taught them to be good little girls. And all for him. For my beloved husband. Sometimes, I remember a time when my life revolved around something else other than his happiness, but then I shake my pretty little head and wonder how that could have been. I remember that I used to have my own job, my own ambitions, a different family even. How dull my life must have been without his smile, his touch. I do remember that I didn't think it dull at the time, but I also remember that I had an aching, an unsatisfied yearning. Some emptiness belonging to that former life which although now completely filled, still sometimes comes back to me, changed and strange somehow.... But then I look again at a cute dress for one of the girls and I feel calm. I look at this beautiful home that I have made for him; The silk curtains, the hand-carved wooden bedstead against which he often takes me when the children are tucked up in bed. When he provides for everything, how could I be lacking anything? ----------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 5 In the moment after the bank transfer went through, William felt a deep emptiness, both relieving and terrifying. He sat on the sofa, motionless for several minutes. He had been told he would be contacted but didn't know when or how. There was still a not so small part of him that believed that this was all just a ruse and he wouldn't hear a thing. William was in a daze and unable to make a decision, and ultimately simply acted on a default basis. William's default, honed through years of facing difficulties and barriers, was simply to carry on and work hard. And so it was, that on the morning that William had decided to abandon all that he knew, he still went to his office in the morning, the same as every other Monday to Friday. As he took the lift up to his floor and walked down the corridor, bidding good morning to a number of colleagues, the events of the past few weeks seemed like a dream; another world. Or was this the dream, and the life that awaited him reality? His mind half- consciously flickered between these two alternatives. William automatically opened and closed his office door, automatically turned on his computer, automatically checked the messages on his phone and automatically made notes on the tasks that were due to be done today. Approaching it like a very dull computer game or maybe like observing someone else's life, he went through his new emails, providing the appropriate response to each and noting with a strangely empty pleasure that Hutchins, a large client that Hector was trying to steal, was remaining resolutely loyal to him. Where an email required additional consideration he flagged it and made a record of it for another day. He did this almost without a thought that he didn't plan to be there another day. What else was there for him to do? Somehow, more than half the day passed like this, William managing to engage with this or that task, all helping to hold back the tidal wave of helplessness, terror and shame. While he could limit his life to logical tasks, interacting with the world only through, and indeed reducing his own existence to, a computer screen, he could shut out the feeling of irreality that came whenever he considered either this life or the one that was supposed to be awaiting him. He doubted, however, that his calm would stand up to any meetings with actual humans and so William resolutely stayed at his desk, ordering in a delivery of noodles for lunch, cancelling meetings and making trips to the bathroom only when absolutely necessary. It was on the way back from one such foray that William was confronted by Hector. As was normally the case, Hector spoke to him in an overly chummy way, somewhat as if trying to cheer up a child with an unpleasant illness. "Hello Billy-boy." Hector was just about the only person other than William's father to still use the shortened version of William's name. The comparison made William queezy. "Hello Hector, having a good day?" responded William politely. "Not as good a day as you I think. I saw that big new instruction you got from Hutchins. Very well done there Billy-boy, good for you." Hector said the words like a pro-sportsman congratulating a junior on being accepted to the academy, but William could sense jealousy below the surface. Despite his best efforts at focussing only on his own progress and trying not to wish ill on any others, William couldn't prevent experiencing a shot of gratification from Hector's discomfort. "Yes, well, thanks. As you know I've been working very hard on that account for some time. Should provide me with enough billable work to hit my targets for a couple of months." "Sure, sure." said Hector, forcing a smile despite William's thinly veiled reference to the competition for the promotion. "Listen, I just need to talk to you about a little something on Ostara...." At that moment the two of them were interrupted by the post assistant with a letter for William. The address was typed out as if from a typewriter and there was no postage mark. His heart was pounding and he opened the letter immediately, leaving a somewhat confused Hector standing in front of him. TICKETS SHALL BE PLACED FOR YOU IN SAFETY DEPOSIT BOX NUMBER 115 AT THE HEATHROW S------ HOTEL. COLLECT AT 9.00. SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER AND YOUR WIFE IN PERSON. TELL THEM YOU ARE GOING OVERSEAS PERMANENTLY FOR A NEW JOB. TELL THEM IT REQUIRES IMMEDIATE RELOCATION AND THAT YOUR WORK WILL RECEIVE COMPENSATION IN LIEU OF NOTICE. ADD NOTHING FURTHER. SHRED THIS NOTE. William scanned the words, but it was the solid feeling of the cold metal key that accompanied it that broke his trance. He imagined holding it with elegant, delicate fingers. He couldn't stay in the office any longer. He looked Hector directly in the eyes. "Sorry Hector, something important has come up. Take care of Hutchins for me will you." With this he turned and walked directly into Gerry Montcliffe's office, not waiting for the OK from his assistant. Montcliffe had been focussed on a document in his hand and looked up in surprise at the sound of the door opening. "William. Everything all right?" Having taken his decision, William was his usual resolute self and wished to complete the task as simply as possible. "Gerry. Mr Montcliffe. I want to thank you for the years I have been working under you during which you have been an excellent mentor and a very reasonable manager. However, I must inform you that I have found other employment overseas. I am leaving the company effective immediately." "Now, now William, what's all this" replied Montcliffe, rising from his chair "If this is about salary then I'm sure we can reach an arrangement. No doubt you're aware that you're up for a senior role, though I must say that if this is an attempt to secure it then it is a very bad move indeed". The promotion, thought William. Just a few weeks ago it had been all that was on his mind. His one focus for which he had been regularly sacrificing weekends with Harriet and hours of sleep. Now it was barely an afterthought. "I'm sorry, no it has nothing to with the promotion or salary. I have no problems with the role or with the firm or with you personally. I merely have another opportunity that I have to take." William offered a handshake. "Good bye Mr Montcliffe, I doubt we shall meet again." Montcliffe appeared genuinely astonished and left William's hand hanging in mid-air. "What about your notice period? You can't just walk out." "I'm afraid my new position requires an immediate start. You will receive compensation in lieu of notice. You will be contacted I presume." With this William turned and, ignoring Montcliffe's pursuit, walked out of the office passing on the way a group of people who it seemed had been listening outside the door, including Hector who was unable to hide a gormless grin at the sudden departure of his rival. William didn't say one word to anyone, but made straight for the lift. As he stood in the lift with a haunted stare on his face, no-one ventured to enter with him or enquire about his wellbeing. The doors closed on his last sight of his colleagues, peering in at him, with curiosity and perhaps even mirth evident upon their faces. William's forceful and pre-mediated decision had extended only as far as taking him into Montcliffe's office and then out again and down to his car in the car park on the lower ground floor. Now in his car, he suddenly realised that he didn't know what he was going to do next. He was so focussed on 9.00 at Heathrow, that he hadn't considered the intervening hours. He hadn't considered what he would do about Harriet. With that thought he suddenly felt tears well up in his eyes. He burst into sobs at the wheel of his car. No-one was around to see it. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 6 He had thought about contravening the advice in the note to tell his wife in person, and instead just going straight to the airport and leaving Harriet a message. If he was to do that, he figured that a hand written note would be better and she wouldn't be home yet, so better to drive home first in any case. When he got home he had only entered the doorway and hung his keys on the hook when he thought again about whether he could leave his love a message and drive away before she got home from work. He looked at a picture on the wall of the two of them on a visit to his hometown Scarborough, taking a walk on the seafront. After all those years spent doing life together, he didn't think he could lie to her face. But was that true? Hadn't he been lying to her through their whole relationship? Hadn't their whole life together been a lie? Of course, he'd hardly ever had to actually directly lie. He'd certainly never had to deny any kind of accusation. But he knew that she thought that they had a totally honest, open relationship, the kind where they told each other everything. And in many ways they had. Just, not this one way. Wasn't letting her think that he had shared his life with her fully the greatest lie he could possibly perpetrate? This wasn't the first time he had entertained these thoughts, and as always they left him wretched, hating his pathetic, weak self. It only made him want to escape even more. With tears once again beginning to trickle down his face, William dropped to his knees in the corridor. He lay out on the floor, face first. He had to feel something solid. Something real. Something without moral judgement or philosophical underpinning. He had taken barely half a dozen steps into his home. The feeling of the fixed wooden planks on his face brought a new perspective to William. It wasn't fair, he reasoned, to discount their whole lives. He did genuinely love her, he reminded himself, and he had genuinely lived out that love. The things that he said and did were not lies. They were said and done out of real feelings and were not designed to cover anything up. There was just one part of his life that was drastically out of context. He had tried hard to integrate it into himself. He had wondered whether it was an unexpressed feminine side to himself, but somehow all of the beauty and grace, the softness and gentleness, that he so enjoyed in his imagined life, seemed incongruous and empty when he tried to place them into his own life, within or adjacent to his own large male body. He had tried to eliminate it. He had gone to therapy to identify a source in his past with the intention of rooting it out, but every apparent dawn of knowledge and understanding proved false. Every destination turning out to be just another curve in the road. No, he reasoned, he had tried with real love to live a full life with Harriet. He had tried hard and genuinely, but it had just not been possible. He had lied to her, but maybe, by denying his true self, he had lied to himself even more. It would be too cruel to reveal all to her, but continuing to live as he was would be unfair to both of them. It was a true tragedy, William convinced himself, but this was for the best. His feelings for Harriet were true and real, just not as true and real as his desire to be a woman. He had no reason to feel ashamed of his integral desires he resolutely told himself, and no reason to discount the love expressed in the life he had lived with Harriet. Even now when the scale was decisively tipped, he could still honour both. Even this final, seemingly hateful and evil evening, he could try to conduct with love. William dragged himself from the floor and set about cleaning the house. He put away some clean clothes into their wardrobes. He dusted the surfaces and vacuum cleaned the floors. In between he took a joint of meat from the freezer and left it to defrost. He had just finished cleaning the bathroom when he heard Harriet open the front door. His heart jumped in his mouth just as his soul descended to his bowels. "Are you home love? I saw your car outside," she called out. William stepped out into the corridor. "Yes, hello darling" he said, just managing to stop his voice from breaking. He held her small waist with large hands and kissed her, first softly on the lips and then more firmly on the forehead. "Ooh, that's a nice surprise" she said in a faltering voice and pulling away slightly from his tight embrace. It was not clear if she was referring to his early arrival or the sign of affection that seemed to her, rather concerningly sincere. "I decided to finish work early today and then come back here to enjoy the company of my wife. I thought we could cook together like we used to" "That would be nice," Harriet smiled. "Special occasion at all?" "Can't we just enjoy a nice evening together?" Harriet thought that there probably was something up, perhaps there'd been some developments regarding the promotion that William was pushing for. She decided to let him handle whatever it was on his own terms. He always opened up to her eventually. Harriet followed William into the kitchen to find that he had already laid out the ingredients for a roast dinner with trimmings. Her instincts had been right, something was definitely going on. "Gosh, we haven't had a full roast dinner in quite a while." William didn't respond directly to her comment. He was already standing by the counter, holding out a vegetable peeler as an invitation for Harriet to join him. "Do you remember how you invited me round to your flat to eat our first home-cooked meal together on that Sunday afternoon," asked William "and how you'd been delayed so nothing was ready, but then we decided to cook it together and you showed me how to cook a Sunday roast?" "Ye,s" laughed Harriet, taking the peeler from his hand. "You didn't even know how to boil carrots." "I had a very loving and caring mother who took care of me" pronounced William in mock-defence. "And then when I left home I got into Asian cooking" "Is "Asian" a code word for 'random meats and vegetables thrown together in a wok'" Harriet retorted, starting work on a potato. William laughed and turned to look at Harriet. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. "You know I love you don't you?" "Of course." She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek and returned to her task. William felt tears welling up yet again and turned back to his chopping board. He could still tell her. He could lay it all out for her. She'd always understood everything he'd ever told her. Maybe she could understand this. She'd probably leave him, but at least she'd know. He could hold out hope that she might someday understand. And yet.... He turned his face to her once again. She was busy at her task and didn't notice, her mind fully engaged between preparing potatoes and her own humming of some tune from the eighties. The two of them continued on for some time, interspersing the comfortable silences that two people in tune with each other can create, with discussion of some article or other that one of them had read in the paper or the latest update on the dating experiences of Harriet's work colleagues. William was relieved that somehow she seemed to have forgotten to ask him about his day at work today. Dinner was ready about 6.30 and Harriet instinctively served the food up onto plates and started towards the living room in anticipation of their usual habit of eating food in front of a film. "Why don't we eat up at the table today?" asked William, gesturing to the table set up at one end of the kitchen, and dimming the lights. "We could share a nice bottle of wine." The expression on Harriet's face showed confusion, but in a pleased, slightly excited kind of way. "Okaaayy" she said, turning on her heel in an amused fashion, and placing her plate down on the table, which was now softly illuminated by a single candle that William had placed in its centre. "C'mon William, what's the occasion?" "I just want to mark how much I love you." William reached his hand across the table and Harriet took it in hers. Even though her whole hand could barely contain William's fingers, this small light touch made William feel as if he was completely enveloped. He felt safe, loved, but yet he longed for freedom. They began to eat, and for a few minutes there was silence. Harriet was now sure that William was on the verge of telling her what was going on, and chose to give him the space he needed. William for his part repeatedly readied himself to speak, only to look again into her eyes and capitulate, stuffing another forkful into his mouth. Eventually the silence became too much for him and he decided that if he couldn't do it now, he needed to just say something, anything. "It was a nice day today. Did you get out in the sun?" Harriet nodded and began to speak but was interrupted as the sound of her voice tipped William over the edge. He burst into tears, and stared ramrod straight ahead. "William, my love, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked, moving quickly around the table to place her arm around the shoulders of her husband. William just continued to stare ahead, tears forming rivulets across his face. He couldn't look her in the eye, but he couldn't look away. He tried again and again to face her but had to turn away each time. "I......I....." "It's OK darling, It's OK," soothed Harriet. "No. No it's not" replied William, finally able to form coherent words. He stood. Evidently having determined to act. "I have to go away." "Where darling, when?" "I have to go away tonight, and I can't tell you where. Oh, Harriet, I'm so sorry, but I can't tell you." He had now begun to walk away. Harriet followed, panic beginning to rise within her. "I have new work, somewhere......somewhere else." William now had his coat and picked up his car keys. "William, what on earth is going on. Why are you acting so strange. You can tell me anything." William opened the front door and finally looked Harriet in the eye. "I won't be returning and you can't follow me. I love you very much." Harriet began to scream in slow motion. A low, formless sound that grew and grew and rose with each short sharp inhalation. William had taken several steps out of the door before Harriet's feet responded to her instructions to move. She ran after him reaching the car just as he closed and locked the door. Through the window she could see him hunched over, sobbing into the steering wheel. "William" she cried, in a voice quite unnatural. "William!! Stop! What are you doing?" William finally placed his keys into the ignition and, with Harriet chasing for several yards, drove away down the street. Thanks for reading. Especially thank you for your patience in continuing to read when I haven't even got to any actual transformation yet. That's coming up very soon, so please do stick with it!