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Doing It For Dad (chapter 9) free porn video
DOING IT FOR DAD
Chapter 9
Once we had recovered from the shock of Julie's revelation, the four of
us managed to pass the evening in pleasant conversation. Julie herself
appeared more relaxed, as though a weight had been lifted from her
shoulders.
For my part, the enormity of the promise I had made to Julie was
beginning to close in on me. I had just committed myself to spending
almost every waking hour of my homelife dressed as a woman. More than
that, I had assured Julie that I would become Carolyn in every way,
using not only her clothes and her makeup but also her voice and her
mannerisms.
For three hours we chatted, drank tea and nibbled custard creams. Julie
glanced at me every now and then, flashing a brief smile each time. I
couldn't help but wonder if she was checking that I was still locked
into the female persona she had helped me create. After all, she'd
admitted that merely seeing me transformed made her feel safe and in
control.
The time came for us to leave. As we stood and walked to the door, dad --
Samantha -- touched me on the arm. "Can I see you for a few moments
before you go, Carolyn?" he said. "In private?"
I looked at Elaine. "It's OK," she said. "Go ahead. Julie and I will
wait in the car for you." I waited until Elaine and Julie were out of
the flat, and closed the door.
"Celia Wardle told me she'd spoken to you last week," Samantha began,
"after you'd been to visit me. Apparently her grandson works at the same
company as you."
"He does indeed," I nodded. "His name's Drew. He's one of the junior
account managers, he's only been with the company a couple of years."
"Does he know about you coming here as Carolyn?"
"No," I said. "At least, I don't think so. Drew couldn't keep something
like that a secret for long. He's a bit of a blabbermouth, so I'd be
very surprised if he does know. Fortunately he hardly ever visits Celia,
so I'm not likely to run into him while I'm dressed like this."
"Even so," said Samantha, "Celia told me that if you don't play the
game, she'll tell her grandson all about you, and then he will tell
everyone at work. But what about Elaine and Julie? Do they know you're
being blackmailed?"
"No," I replied. "I haven't told them. And I'm not intending to, either.
This whole thing was Elaine's idea, remember. She'd be devastated if she
knew that the threat of workplace humiliation was being held over my
head. As for Julie, letting her transform me into a woman has made her
happier than she's been for a long time. After tonight's bombshell I
think it's maybe just best to let sleeping dogs lie."
Samantha looked unhappy. "I'm sorry I got you into this," he said.
"Hey," I replied, taking his hand. "There's no need to be sorry. You did
try to warn me in the first place, remember? If anyone's to blame, it's
me. I didn't believe you when you said you were being forced to dress as
a woman. Well, now we're both in the same boat."
"What if Celia does tell her grandson about you?" asked Samantha. "When
he tells everyone at work then you'll be totally humiliated."
"It would certainly cause me a lot of problems," I agreed. "I'll just
have to hope it doesn't come to that." I smiled reassuringly at
Samantha, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'd better be off. The
girls will be wondering where I've got to. I'll see you next Saturday."
When I got to the car, Elaine and Julie were sitting listening to the
radio. "Everything OK?" Elaine asked me.
"Yes," I replied, as Elaine eased the car out of the car park and onto
the main road towards home. "He just wanted to say how happy he was that
you both came with me to visit him. Oh, and he also wanted to know what
I stuffed my bra with."
The next day, Sunday, I began to keep my part of the bargain I had made
with Julie. Once showered and shaved, and wearing my bra, briefs,
tights, girdles and cincher, I sat down for my makeup session.
"I can't thank you enough for doing this for me," said Julie. "I'm sure
it must all seem totally ludicrous to you, but it really does help,
believe me."
"I do believe you," I replied, covering my face with foundation cream as
I'd been taught. "And it's not ludicrous. I'm just sorry that mum and I
didn't realise sooner that your marriage had gone so badly wrong."
"Let's not talk about that," said Julie. "It's a part of my life I'm
keen to forget."
Julie guided me through the complexities of applying my own eyeshadow,
using the various brushes and sponges in my makeup kit. She was a good
teacher, and I managed to achieve a pleasing result.
"Not bad!" said Julie. "It's only a basic two-colour technique, but I
reckon you'll be up to smoky-eye standard in no time!"
I was then shown how to attach a pair of false eyelashes. This was far
trickier than it looked, and it took me several tries to get them
correctly positioned. Once they were in place and coated with mascara,
Julie finished my eyes by applying some liner on each lower lid.
"I'll show you how to do the eyeliner another time," said Julie. "It can
take a bit of getting used to."
With the addition of blusher, lipstick and a little powder, my face
makeup was complete. Then I stretched the wig cap over my balding head,
and clipped my shoulder-length brown wig into place.
"You need more clothes," said Julie. "You can't keep wearing the same
two dresses day after day. I'll pop into town after lunch and get you a
couple of things."
"OK," I replied. I knew it would have been unwise to protest, reasoning
that Julie's desire to expand my collection of female clothing was an
essential part of her coping mechanism. "I'll leave it in your capable
hands," I told her. "Just so long as you don't expect me to go with you
into town looking like this!"
Julie laughed. "Now, that would really be something!" she said. "So,
which is it to be, red or blue?"
I opted for the red dress, and slipped it on over my head. When I had
smoothed down the folds and adjusted the hem around my knees, I looked
at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The thirty-something woman
smiled back at me with scarlet painted lips, and raised one whimsical
eyebrow. Carolyn Ellsbrough was back.
And I liked it.
"OK," said Julie. "Which shoes do you want, the three inch or the four
inch?"
"Shoes?" I said. "I'm not planning on going out, Julie."
A frown creased Julie's face. "I know you're not," she said, "but I... I
need you to wear the shoes. Please?"
"Of course," I said. I chose the three inch heels and put them on, then
turned back to look into the smiling face of my daughter. "Hello,
Julie," I said, in Carolyn's voice.
"You look lovely," she said. "You know, I'm aware that you're really a
m-- a... man... underneath the dress and makeup, but seeing you standing
there, looking like that, it makes me feel... oh, never mind."
"Go on," I said. "How does it make you feel?"
Julie thought for a moment. "Content. And... empowered."
"I think I understand," I said, uncertainly. "Perhaps we should leave
the psychology of it to the experts, but if transforming me into a woman
makes you feel better, then I'm happy to help."
Julie gave me a thin smile. "Thanks," she said. "And I will keep my part
of the bargain, I promise. I'll call the doctor in the morning for an
appointment. I love you, Carolyn."
Later, as I helped Elaine prepare Sunday lunch, I realised that Julie
had not once called me "dad".
As soon as lunch was finished Julie went into town, returning later with
several carrier bags. "I got you a few more dresses, Carolyn," she said.
"Plus some more tights and knickers, a couple of bras, and another
couple of sets of pantie girdles. Oh, and a pair of four inch stilettos
in black."
"Thank you, darling," I said, trying my best to look appreciative whilst
inwardly groaning at the amount of money being spent on me. "I do hope
this isn't costing you too much."
"Don't worry," Elaine said. "I've been giving Julie a budget from our
joint account. And she's very good at sniffing out bargains, so it
hasn't cost as much as you might think. We're not likely to become
destitute just yet!"
I spent the rest of the day completely immersed in my female persona as
Carolyn Ellsbrough. Whenever I spoke, her soft, high voice came from my
lipstick painted mouth. When I breathed, her bra straps pushed against
my chest. When I looked in the mirror, her gorgeously made up eyes shone
back at me. When I tilted my head, her hair fell lazily to rest upon my
shoulder. When I crossed or uncrossed my legs, her sheer nylon tights
whispered sensuously as they brushed together.
I loved being her.
Julie kept her end of the bargain the following day, by phoning the
doctor for an appointment. "She can't fit me in until Friday," she told
me as I again became Carolyn for the evening. "It's just a preliminary,"
she went on. "The sessions with a psychologist will come later."
"Of course," I said, putting on my new bottle-green dress and stiletto
shoes. "Let's just hope the waiting list isn't too long, eh?" Yet
secretly, and very selfishly, I actually found myself hoping for the
exact opposite. Not that I had any wish for Julie's unfortunate
psychosis to continue, but I was becoming increasingly smitten with my
ersatz existence. I would be sorry when the time came for Carolyn to
outlive her purpose.
My daily routine was now established. Monday to Friday I would get up,
shower and shave, and put on Charles Ellsbrough's boring white shirt,
grey suit and plain tie. A pair of black socks and a pair of ugly black
shoes completed his ensemble. Charles seldom had to give much thought to
what he chose to wear.
After work I would come home, shower and shave again, and then put on my
bra, knickers, girdles, tights and cincher. Then I would apply my
makeup, under a steadily decreasing amount of supervision by Julie. I
learned techniques for using three and four colours of eyeshadow, and
was gratified to master the drawing-on of my own eyeliner. The
assortment of sponges, applicators and brushes in my makeup kit were no
longer a total mystery to me.
Suitably made up, I would select one of my beautiful dresses from the
wardrobe and put it on, enjoying the lightness of the fabric and the
soft swishing of the skirt against my legs. I secretly revelled in
becoming Carolyn.
The evenings would be spent chatting or watching TV, mostly cookery and
clothes programmes and rom-com films. When there was nothing on TV I was
encouraged to read women's magazines, passing comments on the various
articles within. I began to wonder what I would look like in the
fabulous clothes I saw worn by the magazine models and film actresses.
On Saturdays the whole routine was gone through not once but twice. My
morning shave needed repeating by late afternoon, when my facial hair
began to become too noticeable through my makeup. Women, I thought, were
so lucky not to need to shave like men had to.
Saturday evenings, of course, were devoted to the reason I had started
to be Carolyn Ellsbrough in the first place. I looked forward to our
visits to Samantha at Golden Days; the thrill of stepping outside in a
dress and high heels had become intoxicating.
Sundays were a repeat of Saturdays, with the trip across town to Golden
Days being replaced by the cosy nights in which typified each weekday
evening.
"You're certainly doing your level best," said Elaine. It was the
Thursday evening before the late May Bank Holiday weekend. Julie was in
her room, sleeping. "To be perfectly honest," Elaine continued, "I
doubted whether you'd be able to keep it up for this long."
"Thank you for that vote of confidence, darling," I joked, in Carolyn's
dulcet tones. "I have to admit, when it was just a case of doing it for
dad it was all pretty straightforward. Just dressing up once a week for
a few hours wasn't exactly onerous. Now that I'm doing it for Julie as
well, things have started to get a bit more challenging."
"Challenging? In what way?"
"Well, having to wear high heels at all times, for one thing. And the
shaving twice a day at weekends."
"You could always go for electrolysis," Elaine suggested, smiling.
"I know you're only pulling my leg," I said, "but it's actually a
tempting thought. Let's just hope Julie gets to see the psychologist
sooner rather than later."
"It may well be later," said Elaine. "Julie said the doctor told her
there's a three month waiting list for consultations. I think you might
have to prepare yourself to being Carolyn for longer than we
anticipated. It's just as well you've taken to it so much."
I put down my copy of Woman's Own and looked at Elaine, quizzically.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked her.
Elaine smiled. "I know you enjoy cross dressing far more than you want
to admit."
"I don't--"
"It's OK, Charlie. I'm not angry or upset. In fact, I had a suspicion
this might happen when I first suggested the idea to you. I only have
myself to blame for you becoming a transvestite."
"But I'm not a transvestite!"
"Yes," Elaine said, calmly. "You are."
I lowered my head in shame. "How did you know?" I asked.
"Little things. Like the way you admire your reflection slightly too
long. Or the fact that you still wear your high heels and speak in
Carolyn's voice when Julie's not around. Like now, for instance."
I sat, silent, looking down at my feet. Elaine came to sit by me on the
sofa, and took my hand. "Look at me, Charlie," she said, softly.
"No," I whispered. "I can't..."
"All right," Elaine replied. "But believe me when I tell you that I'm OK
with this. Remember what I said to you that night in Pelworth? I told
you that you were a loving son who had willingly resorted to an extreme
measure to demonstrate how much you love your dad. And now you're doing
the same for your daughter. They both need you, Charlie, and you're
there for them, in the most amazing way. And that makes me so proud of
you."
I shook my head. "But that doesn't excuse what I've done," I said. "I've
become a man who likes wearing women's clothes--"
"-- like millions of other men all over the world," Elaine finished. "But
you are still my husband, Charlie. And... I have a tiny confession to
make."
I looked up at her. "What is it?" I asked. "Tell me."
"No," she said. "I'll show you instead."
Elaine moved closer, and we kissed, warmly, tenderly, our hands resting
on each other's nylon-clad thighs. Then the kiss ended, our lipstick
painted lips clinging together in the moment of parting. Elaine was
breathing heavily.
"Seeing you dressed as a woman," she said huskily, "does it for me,
too."
"Well," I said, feeling a stirring down below. "That's definitely a
turn-up for the books."
With Julie in the house, however, acting further on this latest
revelation would have to wait for another time.
The next day, Friday, was another slow day at work. Wilson kept himself
shut away in his office most of the day, making phone calls and sending
emails. When he did emerge it was with an increasingly worried look on
his face.
At lunchtime Drew Wardle and I found ourselves in the toilet together.
"I've heard a rumour," said Drew, "that the company's in dire straits.
Possible redundancies on the horizon, that sort of thing. Still, it's
just a rumour. How's your dad, Charles?"
"He's fine, thanks," I replied. "I'll be going to see him tomorrow."
"Ever the dutiful son, eh? Listen, if you see my granny, tell her I'm
asking after her, won't you?"
"Of course," I said. "Aren't you going to visit her yourself?"
"Nahhh!" exclaimed Drew as he zipped up his fly. "Bank Holiday weekend,
mate! Got some serious golfing to do. Matter of fact, Wilson's given me
the rest of today off, so see you next Tuesday."
The afternoon wore on at a snail's pace. At five o'clock I closed down
my underworked computer and went home, looking forward to becoming
Carolyn again.
Julie was raring to get started on me. "It's a Bank Holiday weekend,"
she said. "A whole three days off work for you! Come on, let's get you
changed!"
I had become fairly good at putting on my own makeup, so Julie was
content to watch and offer advice where necessary. For Friday evening I
chose to wear my new yellow peplum dress, and on Saturday opted for a
very pretty knee length sleeveless dress in cerise lace. I paired both
dresses with my new four inch black stilettos.
On Saturday evening, after my second shave and makeover, we all got into
the car and drove to Golden Days. I was happy for Elaine to do the
driving, as it meant that I didn't have to swap my stilettos for flats.
We managed, as with our two previous visits, to reach Samantha's flat
without bumping into Celia or any of her partners in crime. Samantha
welcomed us warmly, and wasted no time in putting on the kettle for a
cup of tea.
"You'll never guess what I did on Thursday," Samantha said.
"I haven't a clue," I said. I knew that there was a bingo session in the
community room every Thursday evening, but I wanted Samantha to share
his news.
"I won the bingo," he said, triumphantly.
"Oh, well done, Samantha!" said Elaine. "Drinks are on you, then!"
"And I've... I've got another bit of news, too," Samantha added. "I'm,
er, going on the coach trip to Scarborough on Monday. It'll be the first
time I've been outside since I came here."
"That's wonderful," I said. "It'll do you good to get out and about.
What made you decide to go?"
Samantha shrugged. "Well, all the other women are going. When I won the
bingo they said I should go on the trip and spend my winnings on having
some fun."
I was suspicious. Samantha had been adamant about not wishing to be seen
outside dressed as a woman. I was certain that Celia must have persuaded
him to go on the trip, purely for the entertainment value of humiliating
him.
Just then there was a knock on the door. Julie went to answer it, and
returned a few moments later with Celia Wardle.
"Hello, my dear Samantha," said Celia, cheerily. "I wondered if you had
a cup of sugar I could borrow. I've run out." As Samantha went to fetch
some sugar, Celia turned to me. "Samantha is settling in nicely, isn't
she?"
"Yes," I replied. "She's just been telling us she's even going on the
coach trip to Scarborough."
"That's right," Celia confirmed. "She's awfully nervous about it,
though. It'll be her first time outdoors, you know."
"Yes," I said. "I do know."
Samantha returned from the kitchen. "Here's your sugar, Celia," he said.
"Thank you so much, my dear," she replied, taking the cup of sugar.
"Samantha is so awfully kind," she said to me. "She's always telling us
about how good you are to her, Carolyn, and how she couldn't do without
you."
"Well," I said, "I do what I can."
Then Celia smiled. "Oh! I've had a marvellous idea!" she said. "It just
so happens that there's a spare place on the minibus. It's a nineteen
seater, but there are only eighteen residents here altogether. I'm sure
Samantha would be overjoyed if you came on the trip with her, Carolyn."
"Me?" I said, taken aback. "But I don't live here."
"Oh, that's all right," said Celia, airily. "You'll be Samantha's
companion. I'm quite sure we can make an exception for our newest
resident. Do say you'll come, please."
"Well, I don't know..."
"Of course, I suppose I could always ask my grandson," continued Celia,
pressing her advantage hard. "Are you sure I can't persuade you, my
dear?"
"Go on, Carolyn," said Julie. "It might be a laugh."
"Yes," added Elaine. "And you'll be able to keep an eye on Samantha,
too."
I was well and truly cornered. Celia had just hinted that she would tell
Drew about my cross dressing if I didn't go on the trip. Elaine and
Julie, both oblivious to the Golden Days conspiracy, had just
unwittingly pushed me deeper into it. But then again, just like my dad,
I had no choice.
"Well, why not?" I said, with artificial cheeriness. "Scarborough, here
I come!"
To be continued...
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