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The Untidy End free porn video
THE UNTIDY END
Louise had been married to Walter Tidy for some five years knowing that
he was a good man. First of all, although he looked like a 'Walter' (a
bit studious and wore dark rimmed glasses) he didn't act in character.
He had a wonderful sense of humour and was a gentle and considerate
lover, not characteristics somehow befitting a 'Walter', but then again
perhaps I'm doing them all a huge injustice. However he was 'Tidy' by
nature. He helped with the housework and the cooking, insisting that he
should do more than his fair share of everything in the marriage. He
certainly didn't like loose ends and tried to cover any eventualities
that might occur in his life.
One of them was to make a confession to Louise before he proposed to
her.
"Darling," he said, "I love you dearly and I've come to believe that you
have feelings towards me. Because of that, and before we see each other
any longer, it's only right that I tell you something very personal and
embarrassing about myself.
Ever since I was very young, in fact as long as I can remember, I've
enjoyed dressing up, first of all in my Mother's clothes and later in
those I bought for myself. It isn't something I do often, but I've
researched my compulsion, because that's what it is, and although I know
the urge has diminished since we have been dating, I know that I'll
never be totally free of it. If we are to continue in a loving
relationship, I must confess this to you.
Do you feel revulsion towards me now?"
Louise was shocked by this. Of all the things she could have expected
him to say, this was the furthest from her mind. She asked him for time
to think about it.
Of course he immediately feared the worse and was overjoyed when she
told him, about three days later, that she didn't mind. But... There
was a condition. She never wanted to see him dressed like that.
This didn't present a logistical problem. He lived in his family home,
left down the generations and eventually coming to him upon his Mother
death when he had just turned nineteen, following his Father's death the
previous year. The point was that he had a large house and it included
servants' quarters on the top floor attic rooms. He told her that he
would keep all his private things up there and restrict his dressing to
those areas. So long as she didn't go up there, they need never meet
under embarrassing circumstances.
She went ahead and married him when he was just twenty and she still
nineteen. All had gone as planned for those five years and he doted on
her.
"You are my life and sole," he used to tell her. "I couldn't exist
without you."
It's funny though, how some good things can become too much of a good
thing after a while. Louise had started to feel that she'd missed out
on part of her youth by getting married so young. She started to resent
his home making ways. She was beginning to wish he would just
occasionally kick out and they could do something mad for once.
Something she should have done as a wild child, that she'd never had the
opportunity to do. She didn't know exactly what she wanted, but it
wasn't what she'd got.
She didn't get any sympathy from her friends when she tried to explain
it to them. They just envied her, with her hard working and helpful
husband.
"Your Walter actually does the washing and ironing sometimes?" Her
friend Mary was incredulous. "You don't know you're born, my husband
won't even pick his clothes off the bathroom floor when he undresses."
Louise realised that Mary just didn't understand.
Another thing was the big house they lived in. Everyone assumed that
they were rolling in money, whereas although he had a trust that paid
all the household bills, Walter had a mundane accountancy job that was
the only source of what she called 'mad money' privately but 'living
money' to Walter. Of course she could have got a job herself, but that
wasn't the sort of life she wanted to lead. Divorce wouldn't help her
either, she'd signed a pre-nup and even if he died any inheritance to
her would be at the Trustees discretion.
What she did find out was that her husband could go to the trustees of
the family fortune at any time and ask for more, even a large lump sum
if he wanted. He just didn't think that it was sensible to upset their
financial applecart, so to speak. She decided that recourse had to be
the way forward. If they got a good capital amount in the bank, perhaps
they could go off round the world, or, or, well, anything really. It
would get them out of this rut.
There was only one way she could think to do it. She would use his
compulsion in some way to push them into a life style she would find
fun, if only she could get him to do what she wanted. She formulated a
plan and one Thursday evening the opportunity arose to put it into
action.
Two evenings a week she went out. Tuesdays to her aerobics and
Thursdays to her keep fit and she knew that Walter would use the time
for his 'hobby', she even joked about it to him in an embarrassed sort
of way. That evening she got to the class to find that the gym was
closed due to a family bereavement. She quickly made her way home and
crept quietly into the house. She passed the stairs leading up to the
top floor and opened the door to their bedroom then, without walking in
she screamed at the top of her voice.
As she anticipated, Walter came running down the stairs to see what was
wrong. He was wearing full make up, had brushed out his fairly long
hair and was wearing the most adorable, sexy mini-dress. She wondered
at him for a moment, he really did look like an attractive young woman.
"Oh, it's alright," she told him, "it was only a shadow, I thought
someone was in our bedroom. What are you doing? You're dressed like a
hooker!"
"I'm sorry my love, I thought something had happened to you." He
suddenly realised his position. "I'll go straight back upstairs and
change."
"Oh no you won't," she told him. "If you're still doing this you can do
it until you're sick of it. That will cure you.
Now come downstairs and get me a drink."
He got them both gin and tonics and went to sit down for them to talk.
He insisted that his dress wasn't tarty, it was fashionable, but she
wouldn't agree.
"You want to play the little housewife, go and cook me something to eat.
My Gym was closed tonight and I'm hungry."
He had already eaten early as she normally ate after her exercises with
some of her friends, so he griddled a steak for her with a salad and a
fresh bread roll. He laid a place for her in their dining room and went
to get her. Soon she was seated with food and a glass of wine in front
of her.
"Do you know something?" she asked him. "You would make a fine maid for
me, I've always fancied having a lady's maid."
"Louise, I'm sorry you saw me, it was only that I was worried about
you."
"You knew the rule. I've seen you now, there's no putting the Genie
back in the bottle, I can't unsee you."
"But it wasn't my fault."
"Are you suggesting that it was my fault? Anyway, what's your name when
you're dressed like that?"
"It's Walter, the same as it always is."
"Walter's a man's name and you're no man, are you?"
He looked down at the floor. This wasn't nice for her, he realised, but
that wasn't an excuse to belittle him like that. He started to protest.
"Don't come that tone of voice with me girl," she insisted, "I know a
man when I see one and they don't wear make up and dresses and they
certainly don't wear three inch heels. Now pour me another glass of
wine and shut up while I think."
She was actually having trouble keeping a straight face, everything was
going even better than she had expected. The next stage was to get him
to resign from his job, so they could go travelling and see the world.
She knew he wouldn't do that without a fight, so the next stage was to
make the decision a no-brainer for him.
"I had an idea," she told him as if it had only just come to her. "You
want to dress as a woman, so until I tell you otherwise that's what
you'll do. Is there a bed in the attic rooms?"
He told her what she already knew, that there was.
"In that case my bedroom is off limits to you until I believe that
you've learned your lesson."
Once she had finished eating she accompanied him up to the top floor and
collected the only male clothes he had up there and took them to her
bedroom, locking the door behind her. He had followed her down and
spoke through the closed door.
"What about work tomorrow? I need clothes to wear and they're all in
the bedroom there."
"I expect you'll find a suitable dress to wear to work, your boss is
very understanding, I'm sure he won't mind what you're wearing. When
you finish for the day tomorrow we'll go and buy you some suitable
clothes for your new duties round the house."
He passed a very restless night.
She did as well, but rather than the trepidation he felt, she was too
excited and couldn't wait until the next day. Her scheme had an
interesting side effect on her. As well as moving towards her goal of a
more fun future, she found the action of bossing her husband around in
itself, was giving her a thrill the like of which she'd never known
before. She fell asleep imagining him her obedient slave girl,
dutifully carrying out anything to make her happy.
In the morning he made one more attempt to talk his wife round to
letting him wear his suit to work but with no success. As it happened
he did own a business-like two piece skirt suit, a pale lavender colour
with a short jacket, not short enough to be called a bolero, but still
very feminine. He was able to team it with a pair of grey tights
(opaque so his leg hair didn't show), a pair of matching colour court
shoes with a three inch heel and a white cotton blouse with three layers
of lace vertically down the front. He had a cheap pair of glasses that
looked more feminine and he wore those, even though he couldn't see so
well with them.
"You look quite the business woman," Louise told him, actually surprised
that there was nothing remaining of the man, once he had his make up on
and hair brushed out.
"I'll drive you to work in my car, then we can go straight on to the
shopping centre as soon as you finish." she told him. "Now what do I
call you? You don't want me to use 'Walter' round the shops, do you?"
"I don't know, I'd never thought about it."
"Then I'll think of a name." She paused, then, "I think you make a
little flower just coming out in bloom, let me see, Rose, Poppy no, I've
got it, you're Daisy. Now tell me your name girl."
"Daisy." He practically spat the name.
"I think that until you get back to being a man, if you ever do, you
should call me by my maiden name, Miss Jones. Don't forget it Daisy."
By the time he slid his legs into her passenger seat Daisy was shaking
with fear and glad he had refused breakfast as he surely would have
brought it back up. By contrast Louise was ebullient. Everything was
not only working the way she planned, it was exceeding her expectations.
She had to squirm in her seat as she drove, and her panties were getting
quite wet. Her first stop, after she had dropped him outside his
office, was to get a pack of clean ones and some pads to put in them.
After that she could get on with finding the shop she had looked up on
the internet, one that would supply everything she needed.
Daisy was still shaking when he reached his desk. So far the only
people he'd seen were from a distance and they hadn't taken any notice
of him but it wasn't long before one of the salesmen walked into his
office.
"Well hello. You're an improvement on the creep that normally works
here, I'm Geoff, what's your name?"
Daisy looked up at him, realising that the penny hadn't dropped.
"The creep that usually works here," he replied.
"What?" He looked closely and features of the 'girl's' face became
familiar.
"What the hell are you doing in that get-up?" he demanded.
"It's my wife's idea, she's got a bee in her bonnet." Daisy couldn't
think of anything else to say.
"Well play your cards right and I might let you suck me off at
lunchtime."
The salesman left without even saying what he wanted, he was in that
much of a hurry to spread the word about what he had seen. The results
were all too obvious, for the rest of the morning work was disrupted by
the constant stream of Daisy's colleagues calling by to mock him. It
finally got too much for his boss, who told him to go home at lunchtime
and not to bother to come back.
Daisy phoned his wife on her mobile, who picked him up at one o'clock.
"You've got me the sack," he complained to her.
"Good," was her response. "There's far more productive work for you to
do at home."
Instead of heading in the direction of their house, she drove into town
and out the other side. When he queried it she simply told him that he
had an appointment and she pulled in to a shop car park advertising
'Makeovers to Make you a Princess'.
As soon as they walked in he could see that it was a sex shop
specialising in transvestite clothes, toys and makeovers. It also
advertised tattooing. He was close to tears. Never in his worse
nightmares had something like this happened to him and now here it was
in real life.
It was soon obvious that Louise had already called there and arranged
what she wanted done to him. He was shown straight into a room with a
padded table where he was stripped completely and laid out on it. It
was bad enough when he realised that he was going to have a full body
waxing, without seeing his wife leaning against the proprietor of the
shop while they both looked on, amused by his pain and humiliation.
"You let me know when you want a real man, Louise," the owner told her.
"I'll come over and be pleased to help you."
"Why thank you John, it's been so long since I've had a real man.
Unfortunately I got myself married to a sissy but at least he's going to
look after me now, even if it doesn't involve sex."
When the waxing was completed, Louise and John had long gone by that
time, he was transferred to a chair in the salon and given a cup of
coffee. He explained to the girl what had happened, he was quite honest
about his 'hobby' but did point out that his wife knew about it before
he even proposed to her and that he didn't want any of this. They were
washing his hair and the next thing he knew the coffee had taken effect.
He woke up in terrible pain, his chest under his silicon breasts and
whole face were burning.
He raised his hand to touch his face and nearly took his eye out. His
fingers ended in talons, false nails varnished a bright red that were
each an inch longer than his natural ones. He didn't have time to dwell
on them.
Only half awake he was stood up and his hands strapped to a horizontal
bar hanging from the ceiling. This was raised by an electric motor
until his toes were barely touching the ground then a corset was wrapped
round his torso. It was tightened by means of laces until he thought he
was going to pass out, at which time he was left for what seemed an age,
just hanging there.
When his torturer returned he or she, he couldn't see who it was behind
him, tightened the laces even more. A change of personnel, indicated by
the noise of coming and going out of the door, showed a young lady in
front of him, unrolling black fishnet stockings up his legs then placing
his feet in black patent leather shoes which locked round his ankles by
means of a strap. Then she fitted a chrome metal cock cage, locked
round his testicles, it was the only thing she explained as she was
fitting it before pulling a g-string up his legs. She expressed
surprise that he wasn't in a state of excitement because of what was
happening, until he explained that he hated what they were doing to him.
He was then lowered to the floor, only to find that there was more pain
from his constricted waist and the shoes had six inch heels.
It was then that the woman pinched the nipple on his breast. It hurt
him! It was his nipple! He had been given implants and they must have
been at least 'DD's' in size.
"Why have you done this to me?" he asked the woman. "I never asked for
this and don't want it."
"It's what your wife ordered," was all she would tell him as he was
taken to another room where a number of dresses were laying on a long
table under a window. She had to help him as he could barely stand, let
alone walk in the heels. In view of his reaction she felt a further
explanation was due.
"Your wife signed the forms for you because she said she had power of
attorney, I think you'd better take it up with her."
She was fitting him with the first dress when Louise and John came in
through the door the other side of the room. Even though he was still
groggy he knew what they'd been doing, he was even conscious that the
woman dresser there didn't approve. When the door had opened for them,
he could see a bed in the next room with the linen strewn across it, his
wife was pulling her dress down and the man was still doing up his
flies. He also caught a glimpse of her panties in her hand as she
pushed them into her handbag.
He was in a state of shock as the dresser put the finishing touches to
his outfit, a tiny gauzy apron with a heart shaped pocket and tied with
an extravagant bow behind him. He also had a small cap with black
ribbons hanging down his back, matching the dress material. It was at
that point he was stood in front of a full length mirror and given his
glasses back so was able to see himself for the first time. He couldn't
believe what he looked like.
He was the epitome of a cheap stripper in a French maid's outfit. His
hair was curled and died a platinum blond with pink streaks and his make
up, well, a stripper look was the only way the slutty effect could be
described. Of all the striking features the worst were his lips which
were swollen and painted the same gaudy red as his nails and he had four
earrings in each ear. The dress did no favours either. So short it
showed his stocking tops and so low his nipples were playing peek a boo
every time he moved his arms.
"There's two black uniforms, a green and a pink with all the accessories
for each," John explained. "Do you want to see him in any of the others
or shall we just dress him to go, Sugar?"
Daisy noticed what he supposed was a term of endearment for his wife.
"No, I'll see them all in due course John, I'll have him in the pink one
when you come to dinner tomorrow night." Louise replied.
They both walked off in the direction of the shop while the woman helped
him get out of the so-called 'uniform'. He was reeling from the shock
of everything that was happening. Every time he thought he'd hit the
depth of despair something else even worse came along, and things didn't
change.
Once out of the uniform he was presented with a dress that was just as
bad. It was merely a tube that first of all he thought was a joke. It
looked as if it was only a sleeve it was so small.
She helped him pull it up his body where although it stretched, it
seemed he had a choice; pull it up and expose his panty or pull it down
and have his breasts on display. The corset had just quarter cups,
supporting his breasts so they jutted prominently out but not covering
them. By careful pulling it was just possible to make himself decent
but only just.
It was at that point it got too much for him. He started to cry.
Looking at her he thought that the woman who had been dressing him
actually felt sorry for him, but there was nothing she could do beyond
fetch his wife. She was disgusted that his wife could treat him like it
and told him so.
Louise had him help the woman carry all their purchases out to her car
then told him to get in. The establishment was on the other side of
town from where they lived so they set off to go through the centre,
passing all the people going for a Friday night out, many of them
already rowdy.
"If you don't shut up that snivelling you can get out and walk," she
told him.
He said nothing but cried all the more.
"I'm warning you to stop that, it'll be a good five miles to walk if you
don't."
The trouble was he wasn't listening to her, he couldn't even hear her,
he had gone into a medical state of shock, shaking and crying and it was
only getting worse. She pulled the car up and told him to get out.
"You are going to have to learn to obey me Daisy, and this is your first
lesson."
He didn't make a move so she got out of the car, came round his side and
pulled him out. His glasses fell off into the foot well of the car,
where he stepped on them, trying to get his balance, then he collapsed
at the side of the road.
"You've got two choices, you can either sit there and sulk, or you can
start walking."
She got back into the car and drove off, telling herself that if she put
her foot down hard now, it would save no end of trouble later. Although
her original plan had gone somewhat off course, she knew that if he got
into the habit of doing as he was told, she could do what she wanted in
life and now she would have a maid as well. She did check in her mirror
and saw that he was getting to his feet, with difficulty of course
because of his shoes, but she told herself that he would get used to
them.
She got home about eight, surprised that it had taken so long at John's
place, but she'd filled in her time nicely and could look forward to a
much more adventurous sex life in future. She was peckish, so got
herself a sandwich, realising that it was probably the last time she
would have to prepare her own meal and get her own drink.
By eleven he hadn't got home. She gave it some thought, he didn't have
a key with him so if she didn't wake up when he knocked, he would just
have to spend the night in the garage. She generously placed an old
duvet and pillow in there, then he would get the message and wait until
she was up in the morning.
She slept well and got up at eight, still in her nightie and dressing
gown she opened the door for him but he wasn't waiting, she went to give
him a poke to wake him in the garage. He wasn't there. She checked
round the house, inside and out and he wasn't anywhere to be seen. She
was furious.
She worked out that he must have gone off somewhere, to a friend or
acquaintance and stayed the night with them.
'Just wait 'till I get my hands on him.' she thought to herself. Then
she remembered that John had suggested that she bought a paddle or a
riding crop to keep Daisy in line. She hadn't thought it necessary at
the time but now she realised she needed something. She got herself
breakfast, put on a really nice outfit with her sexiest undies, after
all she might be in for a repeat performance with John, and set off for
the store.
When she got there she was told that the boss had gone out for a short
while, so she told the girl what she wanted but that she would be back
later to see John. She had a wander round the shops, to fill in the
time she had to wait. When she got back he was there but talking to two
police officers, so she was going to look round until he was free, but
he called her over.
"You took your husband home alright last night Louise, didn't you?" he
asked.
"More or less, why?" She had a bad feeling.
"Is he at home or not Mrs Tidy?" one of the policemen asked.
"Well, no actually. Why?"
The policeman's phone rang, he studied it for a moment, then showed her
the screen.
"Is that your husband?" he asked.
She looked at a face she didn't recognise. Both eyes were closed and
mere slits in great puffy bruises, the nose looked as if it had shifted
sideways and, horror, one ear was hanging off.
"No, it isn't."
The officer turned the phone to John and the dresser woman who had just
arrived.
"It is him," she said, "I recognise the earrings, but that's all."
"The doctor at the hospital said that he'd only just been tattooed, it
looked fresh in the early hours of this morning so we came to you
because I think you're the only place that tattoos on make up in the
town." He turned to Louise again. "Did you or did you not take him
home yesterday and did he stay there?"
"Well, no officer, I'm afraid I lost my temper with him because he kept
crying, I told him to get out and walk. I came over here because he
hadn't arrived."
"You came over here to buy a whip to beat him with." The girl behind
the counter had heard what was going on and joined in.
"He didn't want to be tattooed, he told me," the dresser added. "His
wife signed beforehand because she had power of attorney, he was very
upset."
The policeman asked John to get the form she'd signed and a photocopy of
the legal powers document.
"I'm sorry officer but I've only got the form, she did say she'd got the
other papers but they were all at home, you'll have to get them from
her." The store's owner remembered that he'd been more interested in
the promise he was on from the attractive wife, to worry too much about
the paperwork.
"Do you have the power of attorney Mrs Tidy?" The officer was beginning
to smell a rat.
"Well, not yet actually, he's going to sign it but hasn't got round to
it yet, now can I go and see my husband?"
"Not until after the autopsy I'm afraid."
Louise fainted.
* * * * *
The inquest was told that after being left in a quite disreputable state
by his wife, Walter was attacked by several groups of men. He suffered
multiple anal and oral rapes as well as being repeatedly beaten,
extending over at least a five hour period. The police established that
the proximate cause of death was someone parking in a car next to him,
hooking a long tow rope onto his chastity device and driving off at
speed, resulting in fatal blood loss.
At first Louise had tried to say that he wanted the make over, but when
that fell apart she claimed that she'd been upset when she found out
that he was a transvestite. That failed when it was pointed out that it
even mentioned his predilection in the pre-nuptial agreement that she'd
signed.
The Trustees took everything back from Louise, even her car was part of
the family estate and they also sued John for very hefty damages, the
entire estate was then wound up and the proceeds given to the charities
that Walter had specified.
The police eventually caught five of Walter's attackers, through DNA
evidence, but they were only ever able to prove rape to the satisfaction
of the courts, although each was given a seven year sentence. Whoever
actually killed him was never found, the car involved had been stolen
and burned out after the event.
Louise herself was found guilty of grievous bodily harm, because of the
tattoos, and a very unsympathetic judge gave her eight years, there was
a rumour that he indulged in the 'hobby' himself. She didn't survive.
She tried to resist becoming a big woman's bitch in prison and the
'persuasion' went a bit too far. No mourners attended her funeral.
India
- 13.06.2022
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