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The Trusting Man free porn video
THE TRUSTING MAN
James Kilroy was a nice, trusting man and couldn't imagine that there
was anything significant that he didn't know about his fianc?e Fiona
when they married. She was a sweet, loving , caring person who found
her vocation looking after elderly or vulnerable people. She had even
been looking after him devotedly, she was worried when he looked a bit
run down on the run up to their marriage and had him on a regular dose
of vitamin tablets. They married quite young, he was only just twenty
one and her nineteen and that was barely been a year ago, when he had
started to worry about two things.
The first couple of times he couldn't perform in bed she dismissed it as
just one of those things, but after two weeks of 'one of those things'
he was seriously concerned, but that wasn't all. Somehow Fiona was able
to spend quite a lot of money on herself, more than he thought she could
possibly been earning. At first he thought she was running up bills on
her credit cards, but when he investigated, he knew her passwords and
accounts on line, he could see that she paid off bills rather than
running them up. It all seemed to have started a short while after her
new work partner was appointed, a man called Alec Fisher. The work she
did usually demanded that they work in pairs but she had always a woman
with her before. One day he tackled her about the extra money she'd
been getting lately..
"Some of the people I look after are very generous, they show their
appreciation of what I do and give me the odd cash tip," was how she
explained her comparative wealth.
"You can't take money from them, most of them don't realise that you are
employed and paid by your company to look after them, you said so
yourself."
Being a person who installed computers with programmes that businesses
needed, and his wife being computer illiterate, he had set up their bank
accounts on line and he was the one that kept an eye on them. It was a
while later that he noticed when large cheques were being deposited in
his wife's account, sums of money greater than she could ever earn as a
carer, a profession notoriously underpaid. He was also aware of her
increasingly working late at night and coming home exhausted. When that
happened he knew that there was no chance of intimacy between them, so
in a way it was a blessing. No matter how he tried to excite himself,
his penis remained stubbornly dormant.
He again asked about the extra money, by way of cheques this time that
she was paying into her account.
"It's a rich old boy, he asked me if I would work on in the evenings if
he paid me, just a second job for me really. I didn't want to, but he
offered me so much per hour that I couldn't turn it down. You quite
rightly said that I shouldn't take tips, but working a second job is
definitely not the same."
He had to agree. It was difficult to argue anyway, when she remained
loving and caring towards him in spite of his shortcomings in the
bedroom. She told him not to worry about it, that doing so would only
make it worse and in the meantime encouraged him to make his appearance
more youthful. She told him that would make him feel better about
himself, especially she liked his hair long, held back in a low ponytail
to fit in with his geeky job. That was what she told him, but it didn't
seem to be raising his spirits any.
The only real pleasure he got was his one indulgence. He was the proud
owner of a Norton Dominator motorcycle with a 750cc (45+ cu. inches)
engine, a hugely powerful machine that was his pride and joy. Fiona
couldn't understand the attraction of having to dress in leathers to go
anywhere, when she would prefer just get into a little sports car, which
was what she really wanted. However, he still became more depressed.
As her star rose in the ascendant, her work hours lengthening and
earnings growing by leaps and bounds, James became morose. Not only did
he lose the use of his manhood, he lost his job. It wasn't so much of a
problem for him as most people. He owned outright the house he had been
brought up in, and had sufficient investments for the returns to give
him a reasonable income, but he still felt demoralised. It was while he
was in this state that Fiona made a suggestion.
"Why don't you come to work with me? Old Mr Fitz is always asking me to
bring someone along to help me. Alec comes with me sometimes, but Mr
Fitz insists that I should have someone else all the time."
"Well I've got nothing else to do," he replied, "but I don't know what a
carer does exactly so you would have to show me."
They had just eaten their Saturday evening meal and James finished
putting the last of the items in the dishwasher. Fiona suggested they
relax with a drink so he poured them each a brandy and they sat down on
the couch in there lounge. She heard a ripping noise and James jumped
up in embarrassment. His trouser seem down the back had split apart
leaving a gaping hole through which she could see his underpants and
even they looked near the point of splitting.
"Whatever's happened to your trousers James?" she wanted to know.
"I don't know," he was close to tears, "I think I've put on weight,
those were the loosest ones I had, all my others are too tight to put
on."
She looked at his chest.
"Are you growing breasts?" She could see now that his shirt was also
tight on him.
"My chest is swollen and my nipples itch all the time."
"Oh my poor Darling, you should have told me, let's go up to the bedroom
and have a proper look at you."
Once there she stripped him of all his clothes and expressed shock that
he hadn't mentioned it to her before.
"That would account for your erectile problem James," she told him.
"I'll get you some hormone tablets to take and we'll soon have you
sorted out.
In the meantime you have to wear a bra, otherwise you can see what will
happen, they'll start to sag and stretch your skin even more."
She hunted in her drawer.
"Try this one on James, I think it will fit you. I bought it by mistake
ages ago and it's too big for me." She rooted around some more. "Here
is the rest of the outfit, panties, suspender belt and camisole, put
them all on, they'll make you feel more comfortable."
He didn't understand the logic, but he did as he was told and had to
admit that his chest felt better with the extra weights supported by a
bra.
"While you're wearing those things," Fiona pointed out, "you might as
well get as much air to your privates as possible, cool them down a bit.
That might be half your problem; overheating."
James could remember something about keeping the testicles cool to
increase sperm production, or something like that, so he accepted that
he could try wearing the dress that was offered to him by his wife.
"You'd better go the whole hog James, if you have to go to the door or
anything, you don't want anyone to think that you're a man dressed in
women's clothes, do you?"
He knew there was something wrong with his wife dressing him like this,
but he accepted her logic once again, even when she showed him how to
apply make up to his face. By the time he had on a pair of stockings
and three inch heeled shoes a glance in the mirror told him that he made
a not bad looking woman.
"We've got to do something with your hair James," she mused, then went
to make a telephone call to her hairdresser.
Because of the irregular hours she worked, she used a friend of hers,
Jean Parker, to do her hair because she did home visits for her beauty
salon, now she asked if Jean would work on James's hair the next day.
"I know it's Sunday Jean, but he really needs it done urgently." She
went into some detail as to her husband's requirements and the
appointment was made for the next morning at ten. Then she turned to
James.
"I know that it's a quick change for you, but by getting you sorted out
tomorrow you can come to work with me on Monday. Old Mr Fitz will be so
pleased to see you."
James's mind was in a whirl. He wanted to call a halt to all this but
somehow couldn't summon up the words to tell her. Before he knew it he
was sat on a stool in their bathroom and Jean was working her magic on
his hair. Not that it would have been so bad if she'd stopped with
that. She got out a high tech laser gun with multiple heads, running it
up and down his legs and arms, including his underarms and around his
privates. This last item caused him excruciating humiliation when she
remarked on how small they were and trying to explain that somehow,
recently they'd shrunk only exacerbated the situation.
"Never mind," she told him with a giggle, "look on the bright side,
they're not going to cause too much of an embarrassing bulge in your
panties."
After giving him a soft perm, resulting in his long hair, previously a
mousey brown, falling in gorgeous blond waves with pink highlights
reaching inches down his back, she moved on to his fingernails, gluing
on false ones extending between half and a full inch beyond his natural
ones. Then she attacked his face.
First there was the laser that removed the little he had in the way of
facial hair, including undercutting his eyebrows so all that remained
was a high thin arch. She painted makeup onto his face, a bright red
lipstick matching his nails and setting the dye with a UV lamp, thus
ensuring that it would last for at least a month. It took some time
also to glue long lashes to both his eyelids and underneath his eyes,
giving him a constant surprised look.
* * * * *
Of course Fiona was well aware of what she'd done to her husband. She'd
set out to not only marry him but to ruin him as a man.
Through her boyfriend she was able to procure high dosage oestrogen
tablets and as soon as they had decided on a date to get married she had
started him on them, so now he had been on them for nearly eighteen
months. Her plan was simple. Her boyfriend was great but lacked the
financial security of James, so she worked out that by acting the way
she had, she would have to spend the minimal number of nights being
unfaithful to Alec before the hormones took effect and she would not
have her husband bothering her in bed. Just to be on the safe side, she
also dosed him with a drug that made sure he was pliable to her demands.
Once all these had their effects on him, she would guide him to a sex
change and divorce could follow, with a nice settlement. However, since
old Mr Fitz had come on the scene, she had further expanded her ideas.
The tablets had exceeded her expectations and quickly she could see that
he was growing breasts at a considerably faster rate than a pubescent
girl. Not only that, his skin had softened, waist narrowed and buttocks
expanded a treat. All that was added to his long hair, making him
already look like a woman, even before any artificial aid, in the form
of makeup and clothes were applied.
She was still amazed when she returned from her shopping trip to see the
result of his make over. There was no question about it, he was better
looking than any woman she knew! Now she proceeded to make him
irresistible to any male.
Her first stage was to push his testicles up into his body and super
glue his scrotum round the remnants of his penis. These were both much
shrunken by more than a year of the chemicals flooding his body and the
result was that it looked like just a generously proportioned labia.
Next she wrapped a full length corset round his body then tighten the
laces at the back, not even stopping when he complained he couldn't
breathe. This pushed his breasts up quite dramatically and provided
the suspenders to which she attached a pair of sheer black seamed
stockings.
He was given a tiny g-string to wear and continued to show no fight
against his tormentors, even though he was well aware of what they were
doing to him. She pulled a tight black skirt up his legs which was so
short he had to be careful not to show the tops of his stockings. A
white lacy blouse with cap sleeves and a pair of black four inch heeled
court shoes finished his ensemble. She had him practicing walking,
sitting, picking things up from the floor and even curtseying for the
rest of the day.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she explained, "but Mr Fitz really only
likes girls looking after him, that's why he has been on at me to not
bring Alec as a partner. So your little problem is a blessing in
disguise."
The next morning they both set out for the Fitz residence.
"Tell him your name is 'Jenny', if that's alright Darling," she told
him. "You would have a lot of explaining to do if he was told to call
you James, wouldn't you?"
He wanted to be called nothing at all, feeling as he did that everything
was on a runaway bus that he couldn't stop or even jump off.
When they got to the old man's house he was surprised by the size of it.
The main building was set it what appeared to be almost a park, the
grounds were so large, and it seemed to date from Georgian times, if not
older. It had a number of other parts built onto it, making it like a
large inverted capital 'U'. the more modern, probably Victorian wings,
extending to each side of the front.
"I told you he was loaded, didn't I?" Fiona told him.
She drove round to the rear of the house and parked outside the back of
the right hand extension where there was a door. She handed him a key.
"I've got to go straight into work Jenny, that's the kitchen door and
his bedroom is first on the right at the top of the stairs, your first
job is to take up his breakfast. I'll pick you up when I finish work.
Good luck."
With that she drove off, leaving him to his own devices. He opened the
door and found himself in a modern kitchen, large enough to service a
medium sized hotel and with every modern convenience. He put on a white
cotton frilly apron and then searched for what he needed to prepare some
toast, marmalade and coffee. That done he walked through the house,
pausing at Mr Fitz's bedroom where he knocked on the door.
He had assumed that his wife would stay the day with him, at least for a
while to work alongside but he was on his own hoping he'd done
everything right. Very self-consciously he entered the room to find the
old man in bed still. He looked Jenny up and down and smiled.
"Fiona told me that she was getting an assistant this week but she
didn't tell me what a looker you are. What's your name girl?"
"Jenny Sir," he answered with a little curtsey.
"That's a pretty name for a pretty girl, now stand there while I eat,
then you can get me ready for the day."
He stood very self consciously, noticing that as the old man ate his
eyes seldom looked in the direction of his meal, rather they were
constantly looking at his body. When he finished, Jenny took his tray.
"Fiona was right, you're gorgeous. Look in the wardrobe behind you,
you'll find your uniform in there and put it on."
Jenny was easily confused and certainly now he didn't understand what
the man meant. There were two wardrobes in the room and as instructed
he opened the left wardrobe door and was surprised to see a number of
very short dresses hanging in there. They seemed to be predominately
the same design, varying only that while three were black, most of them
were a variety of pastel colours and all of them a shiny satin material
with generous lace trims.
"Get out of that rag you're wearing and put on a black dress," he
ordered. "You'll find the matching shoes underneath each one."
Mindful that Fiona said that he should do as he was told, he turned his
back on Mr Fitz and took off his apron and dress, quickly stepping in to
one of the back ones that he'd taken from the rail. It was with some
difficulty that he managed to do up the back zip then step into the
matching shoes, only to find that their five inch heels made it
difficult for him to stand and as yet he hadn't tried walking. A white
frilly apron, so small and lacy that it could be of little practical use
was wound round the same hanger and had a small heart shaped pocket
trimmed with black lace to team it with the dress.
When he looked at himself in the mirror on the door, he found that the
top was cut low enough for a view of the top of his breasts and the
skirt was so short that it would have been embarrassing even without the
integral petticoats that held it out almost horizontally from his tiny
looking waist.
"Help me shave now," Fitz asked him, "get me to the bathroom."
It was not without some danger to both of them that Jenny managed to
totter along on his heels, supporting him until he got to a chair placed
in front of the washbasin. He wanted to be wet shaved , which was
something Jenny rarely did, even when his beard was growing he preferred
the convenience of an electric razor. He had done it before though, so
he knew the mechanics of it and it wasn't long before he ran a bath and
had the old man in it. With all the activity he'd forgotten about the
revealing uniform he was wearing until Mr Fritz's hands reached out and
slid up the inside of his thigh.
"You're a shy little thing aren't you?" he commented as his maid
flinched. "Not like that friend of yours, Fiona. She didn't mind
playing with me a bit as she washed me. Go on girl, have a feel,
there's still life in the old man."
"I'm sorry sir, I'm married."
"Why does that matter, girl, there's only us here, no one will know."
"I'd know sir."
Jenny found the unaccustomed work a little difficult, but eventually had
the man dried, dressed and into his wheelchair. He was directed to be
pushed down the hallway to a door which revealed a lift large enough to
hold the two of them and the chair. He was directed to what he called
his reading room, which was big enough to do justice to any small town
public library. Jenny returned to the bedroom, made the bed and tidied
up, then took the breakfast things back to the kitchen to load them in
the dishwasher. He explored the larder, fridge and freezer to work out
what he was going to prepare for lunch and dinner, even hampered as he
was by the ridiculous shoes. He was pleased to see that it was well
stocked and he felt sure he could produce something that would please.
He had lived alone for a couple of years before he married and he had
always liked interesting food. The only way he could get it was to
learn to cook, he then found he had a natural ability and he enjoyed it,
often cooking for Fiona, although he didn't really feel she appreciated
the work involved. That wasn't the case with Mr Fritz.
He did a light lunch for them of salad, French dressed with some cut up
bacon, making lardons, and some melted goats' cheese on quartered slices
of toast. He was worried that the elderly gentleman wouldn't like it,
but he raved over it. He said that it took him back to his days of
living in France. Jenny told him that he'd noticed a duck in the
freezer that he'd defrost for dinner the following night, but that
they'd have to make do with some leftover lamb from his weekend joint
that night.
As he was working in the kitchen he heard the telephone but thought
nothing of it until he next checked on his boss.
"That was Fiona on the phone," he told his maid, "she'll be working very
late tonight, so she's asked if you will stay the night here, in a spare
room."
To say he was upset was an understatement but he had no recourse but to
get on with his chores at the house. When it came time for dinner, he
browned some floured cubes of the meat in a pan, cut up shallots, made a
sauce of honey and lemon with a dash of soy sauce and some powdered
ginger. He served it on noodles with slices of a small omelette on top,
to take off the richness, and some stir fried cabbage cooked with
juniper berries in a dash of gin. If Jenny thought he was pleased with
lunch, he told him dinner was sensational.
"Please make my life perfect and sleep with me tonight?" he asked.
"I'm sorry," Jenny replied, "but I really do respect my marriage vows."
"What about if I gave you a little present?" he persisted. "A couple of
thousand pounds?"
He was assured that no money would make any difference.
"I'll give you a million, what about that?"
"I'm afraid the answer would still be no for a billion Mr Fitz. Please
don't ask me any more."
"Why, are you rich yourself?"
Jenny was getting very upset, thinking to himself about the money Fiona
was putting into her account. He didn't like deceiving the old man and
really didn't care if he got the sack from the job. He made a decision,
taking a deep breath.
"Mr Fitz, I like you a lot and I must tell you something which is very
personal and honestly rather embarrassing. I have a physical problem
that my wife is trying to cure. I am a man but for months now, in fact
not long after I got married I haven't been able to fulfil my marital
duties so my wife dressed me like this and as I was out of work she
suggested that I come to look after you with her. Unfortunately she
wasn't able to stay today, so I've had to wing it." The old man started
to interrupt him, but he continued. "I'm not rich but I have sufficient
funds to pay household bills and some extras from a trust fund and I
live in what has always been the family home with my wife Fiona."
He waited for the storm which would now hit him. On the contrary, Fitz
was laughing his head off.
"Oh my Jenny," he said and looked at him kindly. "You really are very
na?ve aren't you? People who come here to look after me think I'm
stupid, I give them the odd few pounds as a bonus, I've got more money
than I can spend, but I've told every one of them that I'm leaving it
all in an irrevocable will to a charity for fallen women. That way I
know they're not going to be tempted to forge my will and bump me off -
don't tell me it wouldn't happen, it does all the time but it won't to
me.
I also hear things. They think I'm deaf and senile, so they sometimes
talk about things as if I wasn't there. Now you've been honest with me
and I like you too, so I'm going to be honest with you.
I guessed who you were as soon as Fiona told me that you were going to
come to help out, she also told me to order you to give me a blow job by
the way. Weeks ago she used to come here with that young fellow, Alec's
his name. I'm sorry to have to tell you that he's sweet on her and the
feeling's reciprocated."
Jenny started to protest that it wasn't true, but this time the man held
up his hand to silence him.
"I'm afraid Jenny, or whatever your name is, that's not the worst of it.
That Alec has been giving tablets for you to your wife. They've taken
your manhood away so that you wouldn't bother her and to give you
breasts so that she'll be able to carry on with her boyfriend without
divorcing you and losing out because of your prenup. Do you know I can
prove it as well? He left some in the kitchen first aid cabinet when he
was here by himself at the weekend. I expect your wife picked them up
this morning. I even now remember your real name, it's James isn't it?"
Jenny had sat one of the dining chairs, first of all not believing a
word of what he was saying, but knowing he gave too much detail. Then
he realised that Fiona hadn't come into the house when she dropped him
off, so went to the kitchen to investigate. Sure enough, in the
cupboard there were three packets of tablets. On reading the paper in
each he found that one was a testosterone blocker, one concentrated
oestrogen and the third he recognised as valium.
He sat there in shock.
Everything in his world had just collapsed.
In a semi-trance he went back to Mr Fritz who was still in the dining
room, just finishing a light dessert of fruit and ice cream.
"I take it you believe me now?" he asked, seeing the expression on
Jenny's face.
Jenny said nothing as he cleared up the dining room. His charge asked
to be taken to bed where he could watch television until he felt sleepy.
"I'm sorry Jenny, believe me that I'm very sympathetic," he said
quietly, as he was tucked in.
"I don't know what to do," he replied.
"Look for the notepad by the telephone in the reading room, bring it up
to me."
When Jenny returned with the booklet Mr Fitz called two numbers.
"I've spoken to my private doctor, Mark Winter and my lawyer Bill
Vickers and they're both on their way over. Show them up here when they
arrive."
Jenny looked at the clock, it was nearly eight o'clock, considering what
they would charge for being called out at this time in the evening. The
old man could see him thinking about this, chuckled and explained.
"Both these men are on a retainer and for what they charge they can come
out at my convenience, not theirs. Now go and get us both a nightcap,
you look as if you could do with one."
Jenny went poured them both large Cognacs in the dining room and brought
them both up. He didn't drink a great deal and that mostly wine not
spirits, but the old man was right, he felt a little better once he had
drunk it. By the time they had finished their brandies both
professionals had arrived and were shown up to the bedroom for an
audience.
"Gentlemen," Fritz spoke with the authority of years he had gained in
his working life, not at all like the old man he looked, "this is Jenny
and there is a problem that needs your attention. Please tell them your
story dear."
"It started not long after I married my wife..." He told them
everything that he now knew had happened to him.
An hour and a half later the men took their leave. Jenny had got his
divorce underway together with a statement for the police to investigate
where Fiona's friend Alec had obtained drugs that were only available on
prescription from a qualified doctor. Dr. Mark Winters had taken away a
blood sample from him that would conform that those drugs had been
administered to him. Jenny was exhausted.
He bid goodnight to Mr Fitz and found a bed in one of the spare bedrooms
had been made up. He dropped off to sleep almost as soon as his head
touched the pillow, although the brandy may have had something to do
with it.
He had not long given the old man his breakfast and got him up for the
day, when the police called. It took a while and a telephone
conversation with his lawyer to establish who he was.
"I'm sorry about that Sir," the officer apologised, "I'm Detective
Inspector Morris, do you own a Norton Dominator motorcycle?"
He gave him the registration number and Jenny confirmed that it was his.
"Did you give permission for anyone else to drive it last night?"
"No, I didn't officer," he answered, wondering where this was leading.
"I'm sorry to tell you that it was involved in a fatal accident last
night, we believe that the driver, a Mr Alec Fisher, was killed and the
pillion passenger was seriously injured, so much so that we've not been
able to establish her identity. As she is still unconscious, would you
mind coming with me to see if you know the person involved?"
Mr Fitz assured him that he would be perfectly alright on his own for an
hour or two, he changed back into the rather more modest uniform he had
arrived in and went with the officers to the hospital. He wasn't
shocked when he saw that it was his wife in intensive care, covered
extensively in bandages and various tubes and wires connected to her.
He returned to Mr Fitz's home as soon as he had made the formal
identification from the tattoo on her shoulder and her rings.
They both enjoyed duck with a plum and chilli sauce that night and it
was agreed that Jenny would become his full time, live in carer.
* * * * *
Three years later Jenny Kilroy lay on a private beach in the Seychelles,
thinking back on her life.
There had been no chance to reverse the massive doses of hormones he had
been given and after a year of assessments and much heart searching he
had opted to have full gender reassignment surgery. When not being
treated he had stayed on with Mr Fitz, with whom he had formed a close
friendship. Jenny was genuinely grief stricken when he died of
complications after a stroke, in spite of the care she had given him.
Mr Fitz hadn't left his fortune to a home for fallen women, he left it
all to the one person he knew that actually cared about him and Jenny
now had a life of leisure on the legacy. All his operations to make him
a her were paid for, along with hefty compensation, by the doctor who
had supplied Alec with the tablets, knowing they weren't for him. Now
it was Jenny who had more money than she could spend.
Five months ago she had met a lady, well off in her own right, who
didn't want a man either and the two of them had started living and
travelling together. They were able to make each other very happy and
enjoyed a full sex life as well.
Fiona? He divorced her and the prenup worked well. She got nothing.
Not that she would have had much use for it. The accident left her a
quadriplegic, she would spend the rest of her life being spoon fed and
thinking of how things might have been if they hadn't tried to rip off a
nice, trusting man.
Becky
- 10.11.2020
- 7
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