Victor's Mothers Hobby free porn video

Victor's Mothers Hobby. By Trish. Edited by Robyn Hoode When she looked back on her wedding night, Wendy could not believe how naive she must have been to have walked so willingly into Victor's life. She could not blame Victor for making the most of the opportunity she unknowingly provided. Deep down she knew she only had herself to blame for triggering the sequence of events that drew her into the silken clutches of his domineering mother. It all started just weeks after Sam graduated. Unlike a lot of graduates in the late twenty teens, Sam's skill set was in demand and he had been fortunate enough to have been offered a very good job working as a translator in the City even before he left university. Although he was being well paid for a recent graduate, Sam could not afford to live in London so he posted on Facebook that he was looking for somewhere to live in the home counties area. A few days later he got a response from Victor 'Vic' Barford a former housemate who said he was working for his family's business and they had flats available in a recently renovated building within commuting range of the City. After a couple of weeks of suitcase living, Sam was getting desperate and messaged Victor saying he would take it. It turned out on the surface to be a good decision. The rent was half the price of even a bedsit in London and Victor's family were good landlords. In comparison to the student accommodation where Sam had lived when it could take weeks for a response, now, on the odd occasions when there was a maintenance issue, he just phoned Victor's office and it was repaired without delay. Sam had been living in his new flat for about nine months and he completely forgot that Vic was coming round to do the gas safety tests. As the bank where he worked did not pay overtime any extra hours had to be taken back before the end of each month. After finding his feet in his job Sam found that he was usually able to take his hours back on the last Friday of the month, and this month was no different. Having completely forgotten about the inspection, Sam was giving his flat a good clean when Victor, expecting him to be at work, used his master-key. With the vacuum cleaner going Sam was completely oblivious to Victor's arrival until he caught him prancing about with the Hoover dressed like a girl! Sam had started crossdressing after a drunken deal with Victors then girlfriend in his first year. Ever since he moved into the house, she had been teasing him about how unfair it was for a boy to have legs like his, and when the college's Halloween fancy dress party came round she offered Sam a takeaway dinner in exchange for letting her dress him up in a Star Trek dress. The party was great fun and Sam really enjoyed the thrill of being mistaken for a girl, he did not know why he enjoyed it so much, but he did and that fancy dress was the trigger which began his fixation with crossdressing. When he graduated and walked into a well paid job Sam found he had both the money and the privacy to indulge his 'hobby' and in the months since he left university his dressing had gone from something he did occasionally to an almost daily habit. "Sam! Bloody hell!" Vic exclaimed in delight looking at Sam wearing a cute dress, an apron and heels "You look better than Claire ever did dressed like that!" Although on the surface a Victor came across as totally heterosexual, a childhood spent at boarding school had left him with certain bisexual tastes. Tastes that, after a holiday in Thailand the summer before he met Sam, tended towards convincing crossdressers and transgendered girls, and that made Sam's feminised alter ego a very appealing prospect. Having shared a house with Sam for a year, Victor felt he knew him pretty well and was not in the slightest surprised to find out he was a crossdresser. He had never forgotten Sam's face when he saw himself after Victor's then girlfriend had first dressed him up, or how much his rather nerdy housemate had enjoyed that first party. Even more tellingly from Victor's point of view was that after that first party it had never taken a lot of talking to get Sam to do the same for every fancy dress party during the year they shared a house and left him with a suspicion that he liked it a lot more than he admitted. It was Sam's willingness to dress up at those college parties that motivated Victor to respond to Sam's post about needing somewhere to live. Although he knew he was probably flogging a dead horse Victor's offer of a flat had been to a degree motivated by his suspicions that there was a good chance that he was a crossdresser. At the time he did not have a clue how to find out if Sam was one, but it was the chance of finding out that made Victor offer him the flat at a significant 'mates' discount. Seeing him stood there Sam panicked and was about to run for his bedroom until Victor grabbed his arm and said with a grin. "Relax, Sam. I'm not offended, shocked, or surprised. I've known for years that you liked crossdressing. After all it's not like I've never seen you in a dress before is it?" he chuckled. "And I've got to say that you still look smashing wearing one! Hell I wish more women would dress like that to do their housework!" Sam's mouth was flapping up and down soundlessly until he managed to say in a very shaky fearful tone, "Vic what are you doing here?" "That gas check I emailed you about." He held up his meter and tool bag. "Mother gets a little sniffy about it because she thinks it beneath me, but it's a job I really enjoy doing myself." He chuckled. "Mostly so that I know they have been done properly and I didn't spend three bloody years doing a B.Eng before I did my MBA just to be a sodding manager." He pointed at the kitchen. "May I?" Sam was blushing like a traffic light and nodded. Giving Sam a very pleased smile he added. "Thanks, any chance of a mug of tea, because I'm gagging?" "Er yeah." "God I love the sound of a high heels!" Vic chuckled enjoying the sound of Sam's heels as he followed him into the kitchen. "After Claire went to back to college she got all militant and refused to wear heels, or anything else I liked seeing her wearing come to that." He pulled a face adding, "She got into all that third wave feminist claptrap and started twittering a load of bollocks about how women were expected to dress was all an invention of the patriarchy intended to restrict and restrain women from fulfilling their potential." Sam was already thinking about moving out when Vic added giving him a longer look as he took the stove apart. "You know I bet you're about her size, because when she dumped me for a bloody woman she left most of the feminine things I got her at my place. It's all still there." He grinned winningly. "If you want, you're more than welcome to come over to my gaff sometime and winnow through it and have any of it you like, Sam." "Oh?" Sam said saying the first thing that came into his head. "What happened?" Inside Sam was a mass of confused thoughts as he tried to come to terms with being busted, and then offered a lot of clothing, all the while asking himself how he could have been so bloody stupid as to get caught. "Well," Vic said as he checked the oven. "We met when I started working for the business after I got my MBA. Claire was this really good-looking secretary in the office, so I gave her the old sliver tongued cavalier routine and we started going out. Anyway everything was sweet for a year or so, until the year before last when I made the biggest bloody mistake of my life!" He laughed self mockingly. "She was moaning about feeling trapped as a secretary because she did not have a degree, and I suggested cum encouraged her to go back to university and get one to widen her opportunities." "Did she?" Sam asked. "Oh yeah," Vic said. "You met my mother didn't you?" Sam nodded. "Yeah, at your dads funeral in my second year and felt she was kind of fierce." "That's being polite about it." Vic laughed. "Anyway if you've met her you know what she's like, and although Claire was a smashing bird, great looking, and very bright, mother felt she was academically unsuitable until she found out that she was going to University, and then as far as mother was concerned the sun was shining out of Claire's arse." "So there was me thinking I'd cracked it. I had finally found a good- looking bird of whom mother approved and it was a case of here we go, future all sorted. Well that was the plan until her fucking course tossed a spanner in the works when one of the optional modules in her first year turned out to be gender bloody studies, and that got Claire into all that feminism bollocks." "I knew it was all just a crock of shit," Vic said, reaching the main valve. "And like any sane person I thought she would get over it, but I was wrong because Claire was swallowing the lot. That bloody module went and turned her from pretty much my ideal bird into a fucking carpet muncher. Not that I knew she was going that way until this time last year when she bloody well turned round and dumped me for a bull dyke she met at the college. Talk about a kick in the teeth!" Sam had to laugh as he made a couple of mugs of tea. Victor had always been an entertaining raconteur. "Anyway when Claire fucked off with the dyke she left a walk-in closet of clothing, shoes, lingerie and God knows what else at my place. A lot of the modern stuff I got her in the year we were together while she was at college is still in the bloody wrappers, and then we have probably a wardrobe's worth of the vintage outfits I got her, because, before she turned into a muff diver, she loved getting all dressed up in period gear for vintage car club events." "Oh!" Sam said feeling a fizz of excitement. He had a liking for period and vintage clothes. "What's dressing up in period clothes got to do with your old car?" "Cars these days, I've got a few," Vic said with a laugh as he screwed a gauge onto the gas outlet. "I've still got that MG-A I had at college," he said nodding at the reading. "It's still just as unreliable but I do love that bloody thing, probably because it was my first car. Anyhow since then I've built up a bit of a collection, my oldest and latest on the road is an American 1908 Rambler, which Ronnie, a friend of mine in the vintage club, restored for me." "Ronnie and his missus run a restoration business in Somerset and I've been taking my cars to him ever since Ronnie did an amazing roadside repair on father's old XK150 Jag, the year after I got my Masters. I think you saw it when dad picked me up one time from university. Anyway Ronnie and Lucy are into the whole vintage rallying scene and, when he fixed the Jag, he was chatting about a rally they had just done. Claire said that sounds like fun, so we got into it as well." "Here." Sam handed him the mug of tea. "Thanks," Vic said. "Anyway, I've bought myself the 1909 and a 1926 Sunbeam shooting brake. I inherited a late 30's Rover town car and the Jag off my dad. Oh and I've just bought a wreck of an E-type that I've got to take to Ronnie's at some point." "But to get back to the outfits. Once we had done one rally Claire got really into the idea. The rallies are mainly reliability trials but then you have the aesthetic side where you can get extra rally points for everything being period correct, including clothing." "Anyway Claire loved the idea of dressing in all the period correct gear, so I got us some outfits to suit my fairly eclectic car collection," he said. "So all that's there along with the walk-in of modern clothing. I've been meaning to take the lot to Oxfam, but, what with mother retiring as CEO and me taking over, I've been up to my neck getting a handle on the day to day operation of the business, so I've just not had the time to box it all up." He grinned up at Sam. "However, looking at you now, I think you'd probably give it a better home Sam." He chuckled as he added. "Because it's pretty clear from how you're dressed that you'd probably enjoy it." "May be Vic. I don't know," Sam said sipping his tea tempted by the idea. "Hell it costs nothing to look," Vic said removing the valve and checking the reading again before he pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Sam. "Here, that's my home address. It's a Bank Holiday weekend and the forecast is good, why don't you take a run out on your bike tomorrow and come and have a look. Even if it's not the sort of stuff you like, you'll probably enjoy the ride. All my biker mates tell me that the back roads from here out to my place are great. Must be pretty good as there are always a lot of bikers at the Cleat Hill Cafe on nice weekends." Sam was not a biker as such, even though he owned a little 500cc motorbike for transport. He had passed his bike test through the student union when he was at university. The original reason was because he needed to make a work placement and could not afford a car on his limited student income but once he started dressing he realised that having a bike was a great excuse for his longer hair and pierced ears. Even so, Sam primarily saw the bike as a means to an end and never intended to keep riding after he had passed his car test but he had done, mainly because it was much faster than the train, plus it was a hell of a lot easier to commute in and out of London on a bike than in a car. He was not sure going out to Vic's was such a good idea because the way he looked at him dressed as a girl was a little unnerving, but, blinded by the idea of some free outfits, he eventually let himself get talked into riding out for a winnow through the wardrobes the following lunch time. Although there was something a little uncomfortable about how Vic looked at him in skirts. Sam knew from sharing a house with him in his first year that Victor was a good mate and a genuinely nice bloke, so he put his apprehensions to one side and the following morning took a ride out into the Chiltern Hills. Vic was right. It was a nice place to ride round and, after a couple of hours of pootling around the lanes, he finally found his way to Victors house. "Wow!" Sam gasped when Vic showed him the walk in closet and wardrobes. They were packed with dresses, shoes and expensive looking lingerie. "Claire was a size 10 to 12 and you don't look much bigger than her so why don't you find something pretty and come down for a drink on the patio?" Sam did not need to be asked twice, and about an hour later he reappeared wearing a pale blue vintage 1950's looking swing dress that needed a tight equally vintage looking bust to thigh girdle to close. "Wow!" Vic gasped. "You look smashing Sam!" "It's wonderful," Sam said grinning as he looked at his reflection in a mirror. "I just wish I had brought my wig and makeup!" "How about you do that next time?" "Okay!" Sam said with a smile. "I will." "Sweet!" Victor laughed, adding, "How does it all fit?" "I tried the 12's along with a couple of the other vintage dresses and most of the modern stuff will fit fine, but this was the only one of the vintage dresses I tried that I could really get into comfortably, well with a little help from a Playtex girdle." Sam chuckled. "My feet are a little bigger so I could not wear the closed toe heels but the open toe and sandal styles fit fine. Your ex must have been mad to have left all this behind." "She went a bit bonkers when she got into all that feminism bollocks," Victor said pulling a face. "Anyway the last time I saw her she had a shaved the sides of her head and dyed what was left of her hair pink, and had far too many piercing and lots of tattoos. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the odd discrete piercing, like a tongue or a belly button or the odd tat on a girl, but she was covered in metal and ink. Such a waste!" "Her loss, my gain." Sam chuckled, adding, "I just wish I had the space to take the lot!" "You're always welcome to take what you can, and come over here and use what you can't take home Sam?" Victor said. "I don't mind as you're a lot easier on the eye as Samantha than plain old Sam, and anyway I like your company." "I'm not a fan of Samantha, so I usually go by Wendy online," Sam said. "Wendy then." Victor laughed, pouring him a cup of tea. Over the summer Sam became a regular visitor, and soon fell into a routine where he would ride to Vic's after work on a Friday and spend the weekend in his guest room as 'Wendy.' After a little dieting, and a membership at the same fitness centre in town Victor used, Sam soon slimmed down enough that most of Claire's vintage clothes were a near perfect fit. As the summer moved into Autumn and Sam got increasingly comfortable with pretending to be Wendy and he started to enjoy how Victor treated him. Although there was nothing remotely sexual about their relationship, Victor made no secret of how much he liked having a 'woman' about his house again. Everything was going swimmingly until the intransigence of the Tory right wing over Brexit screwed everything up. Like all the big international banks, Sam's employers were in London because it was the financial centre of Europe and the Brexit vote threatened that. Worried about the consequences of a 'No Deal' exit after Theresa May's deal with the EU was rejected, Sam's employers began restructuring. Within a days of the bill failing to get through parliament his employers decided to move the bulk of their European operation to Germany before the 29th March and started making the London-based support staff redundant, and eventually Sam got his redundancy notice. Finding another job that paid anything like as well in 2019 was pretty much impossible in England and Sam was talking over his options with Victor a couple of weeks after he was paid off by the Bank. The EU were screaming out for translators and he had been offered a job in Brussels but, with the uncertainty about the UK's position, they could not guarantee he would be able to keep it if the UK did crash out. "The question is, Wendy, would you really want to live in Brussels?" Vic said as they ate the meal 'Wendy' had made. "To be honest, no," Sam said. "It's got to be one of the most soulless places I've ever been, and the faff of moving everything to Strasbourg for a week a month I'm told by friends who've worked for the EU is a nightmare, but at the moment they are the only people on this side of the planet who are taking on European language translators." "That's a bugger," Victor said. "But perhaps I can offer an alternative?" "Such as?" "Well you come work for the company, Wendy? We've been paying a fortune to get technical documents translated, and since Mrs Mac moved to be closer to her daughter I've been looking for a housekeeper to come in a couple of days a week. Since we clearly enjoy each others company, you could always keep busy as my housekeeper as well as translating for me until the economy picks up. I'll pay you a couple of hundred quid a week through the company, and, if you move into your room here from your flat, you won't have any living costs, so you'll have roughly same disposable income." "Hey that would be fantastic Victor!" Sam exclaimed. Unable to see the trap opening before him, Sam moved in as Victor's 'housekeeper' and occasional document translator. Having always been Wendy at Victors place he found himself spending more and more time as his feminine alter-ego. Victor quietly encouraged Sam, commenting on more than one occasion when he came home to find him in 'man drag.' "Wendy is a the better cook." After a couple of months, encouraged by Victor, Sam was living almost entirely as Wendy. As he lived a couple of miles out of Tring and his nearest neighbours were over a mile away on the rare occasions when someone did see him no one realised that Sam was not really a girl. Other than the odd trip out in the car with Victor as Wendy, without realising it, Sam basically isolated himself away and as the weeks became months he soon became very comfortable dressing 24/7. This was just what Victor wanted and had done it without having to make any overt moves to push Sam into becoming habituated to living as Wendy. If anything, Sam preferred being Wendy, which was just as well because, once Boris Johnson became Prime Minister, even the EU stopped employing British staff. Carefully observing how inculcated Sam was getting into living as Wendy, Victor felt comfortable by the new year to step things up a notch by conveniently forgetting to mention his mother was coming for lunch. Sam was mortified, when Victor's mother walked in the front door and saw him stood there in the hall wearing a house dress and an apron as she called, "Victor!" There was no where to run and Sam realised that he had no choice but to brazen it out and said, "Good morning Mrs Barford." Victor came charging down the stairs saying, "Mother?" "Yes dear, who else did you expect?" she said glancing at him before returning her attention to Sam, and commenting, "You must be Wendy, the housekeeper? My son and I will take tea in the lounge." Sam blushed and said, "Right away Mrs Barford." "Good girl off you go." "She's cute enough looking Victor," Victor's mother said with a dry chuckle when Sam brought a tray of tea into the lounge for them. "For a transvestite, but her hair is a mess, wigs never look right, and her makeup skills need serious improvement." She looked Sam over very carefully and said, "She needs taking in hand and taught how to be a woman for you." As his mother was looking at Sam, Victor gave him a helpless look and mouthed, "Sorry." "Sit down Wendy." Mrs Barford pointed to the chair opposite her, and then shouted, "Stop! Smooth your skirts first, then elegantly lower yourself into the chair, if you're going to look like a lady you should learn to act like one!" It took three attempts before she was satisfied, and then she turned to Victor and said, "I have been looking for something to fill my time since I retired, I think I shall spend it improving your transvestite girlfriend here until she acts like I expect a girl of her station to behave." "And that is mother?" Victor asked. "Well judging from that outfit she's wearing I would imagine a housewife is what you have in mind." She chuckled dryly. "Especially since I am aware of your liking for the very feminine look in your girlfriends dear." Sam wanted to say they were just friends not in a relationship, but before he could get a word in Mrs Barford was saying. "I'll take her to get her hair done, get her nails fixed on Monday, and," she gave Sam an even longer look, "some quality prosthetic body enhancements until mother nature blesses her. Humm, now let me see." Her eyes ran over Sam again as she added in a musing tone of voice. "I don't think we need to consider anything surgical to begin with, although a nose job and perhaps a little work round her eyes and chin would not be amiss, along with probably breast implants and perhaps a little body sculpting in the future." Victor glanced at Sam and shrugged helplessly as his mother steamrollered her way into their, so far quite cosy, life. Although he had half hoped his mother would want to take Wendy in hand, now she was, he was not sure this was going to be such a good idea because once she got her teeth into something she never stopped until she got what she wanted. "I assume you are on a gender change program, Wendy?" Mrs Barford said fixing Sam again with her eyes. "Umm, no, not yet, Mrs Barford," Sam admitted. "Well you should be girl! I'll make you an appointment and we'll sort that out when I take you up to London as well," she said in a tone that brooked no refusal. "If you're going to prance around my son's house acting like his wife you bloody well need to be on the path to becoming one." "Well at least I won't have to teach you to cook, Wendy," she said a couple of hours later after Sam fixed them some lunch. "And from the condition of the house it appears that you are performing the cleaning and housekeeping to an acceptable standard, unlike Victor's last live in girlfriend." Victor gave Sam a 'god help us' look as his mother continued. "Which is all very gratifying to see . However that is just part of being my boys girlfriend, because you need to make a serious improvement in terms of your feminine presentation and manner. These are all skills which I will teach you, and you will learn, Wendy." When she finally left Sam felt a little like he had just been put on an out of control train as she steamrollered her way into their, so far comfortable, living arrangements. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry, Wendy!" Victor said after she left. "That was the one thing I was afraid of with you being here." "How did she find out?" Sam asked feeling a mixture of apprehension and weirdly anticipation. "Probably someone in the village saw you and mentioned it to her," Victor said. "And she probably recognised your name with my address on the payroll when she went through last years accounts before the board meeting last week. If you recall she saw you dressed up when she called in when we were about to go to the summer fancy dress just before I got my MBA. I'll bet when she was in the office she asked about you, and put two and two together. Shit." "What do we do, Vic?" Sam asked worried. "With my mother, the best thing to do is just do what she wants, and in a couple of months something else will attract her attention," Victor said, "and things will get back to normal." "You think so?" Sam said. "I know what she's like," Victor said confidently. "Once she thinks people are doing what she wants something else always catches her eye." Sam half hoped that Mrs Barford would not be that intrusive and was not going to go as far as she said. He was wrong, because he quickly found out she meant every word and it began forty-eight hours later when she arrived first thing Monday morning and whisked him off to London. "You'd better not show me up today, Wendy!" she snapped as she chivvied him into her car. "Or I'll make both your lives bloody misery," adding to the driver as she slipped in behind me. "Marcel's in town please, Rupert." Marcel's turned out to be a very fancy hairdressers and when Sam left three hours later, his hair had been cut and styled into a very feminine hairdo that could neither be hidden nor combed out. His hair was just the start because Sam's nails were longer and his eyebrows waxed, and plucked into narrow feminine arches . Then came the Botox that smoothed out his forehead and the minor cosmetic enhancement that plumped his lips. They were now decidedly larger after the full makeover that completed Sam's transformation. It didn't help that they were painted in a bright red that seemed to scream oral sex! "Malcolm and Warner's," she instructed 'Rupert' her driver. "Good morning, William, you have the papers?" Mrs Barford asked as soon as they were shown into a solicitor's office. "Of course Margaret." A rather smarmy looking lawyer said, "If you'd both like to sign here and here." He pointed to the correct places. Quickly signing her name she passed them to Sam and said, "Sign them, dear and we can be off." "Excellent," he said, collecting the papers stamping both and then signing them himself before passing one of them back to Mrs. Barford. "I'll begin the formal notification procedure immediately and I expect it will be sorted by the end of the week." "Perfect." Margaret Barford said with a smile, and in under ten minutes they were back in the car and she was telling Rupert. "Harley Street." Wanting to know what the hell was going on, Sam hardly got a word in before they were shown into see a doctor. "This is Wendy Samantha Green, my son's girl," she introduced me. "She has already began the formal procedure to change her name and wants to go on the gender program." "What!" Sam exclaimed in his mind as she handed over the document from the solicitors. "Certainly Mrs Barford," the doctor said glancing at the document, adding obsequiously with an expression that clearly cared more for the 'ka-ching' of the bill than any great concern about Sam's health. "That all seems in order." After a very brief medical the Doctor said, "Since she is in perfect health and I can see she is clearly living in role and on an unsanctioned real life test. I can't see any issues with seeing that she completes the remainder of her transition with the minimal amount of fuss." "Excellent." Mrs Barford. "She'll sign on now." "Marvellous," the doctor said, "and once she has I can prescribe her hormones and officially begin her RLT." He quickly turned to his computer and started typing and in a couple of minutes was handing Sam some forms still warm from the printer saying. "Sign these as Wendy please, while I arrange your shots and timed release implant." If he asked Sam more than ten questions in whole ninety minute consultation he would have been surprised and when they left his backside felt like a pin cushion. However the really scary thing for Sam was the small lump on the inside of his left upper arm. "There, all done my dear!" the doctor said. "The implant will kick back the testosterone production and start acclimatising you to feminine hormonal regime and it is the Rolls Royce of the preliminary treatments available to girls on the gender confirmation course. Now let me see," he looked at his computer and added. "I'll see you again in three months at the start of July for the next one." "May I ask what's in it?" Mrs Barford asked with a pleased smile as Sam slipped his skirt back on. "It's a combined implant primarily containing an anti-androgen to kill the production of male hormones and a low dose of estrogens's to replace them during the first round of treatment. Next time we up the dose of estrogens and if necessary consider her for a bilateral orchiectomy in six months or so if the male hormone production has not been quashed." "Excellent, I shall discuss that option with Victor, but I think you can take it as read and tentatively schedule that for her six month consultation, because I think for all concerned the sooner she is chemically female the better." "Certainly Mrs Barford," the doctor said with that cash register look in his eyes as he noted it on his computer. "Anything else?" "Yes, C or D cup prosthetics and perhaps a little something for her backside?" "I'd say C for the prosthetics, but I think, given her figure a strict regime of corseting would be of more use in terms of figure shaping at least to begin with." He said ignoring Sam. "We can see what results are gained in combination with her implant and if it's not what you have in mind then I'm sure we can look at perhaps a little subcutaneous tissue transfer from her waist to her buttocks, and perhaps a breast implant while she's under for her orchiectomy?" "That would be perfect doctor, arrange for both," Mrs Barford said, before turning to Sam and saying, "Say thank you to the doctor ,Wendy and we'll go and find you a nice pert pair of mastectomy prostheses to be going on with." When she brought him back to the house Sam was in shock. Not that he had any choice but to accept his radically changed appearance, but he felt both bloody weird and oddly pleased with how he looked. With Victor's mother overseeing his life over the next couple of weeks he had little choice but to get used to having the weight of two C cup silicone breasts glued to his chest and having his waist tightly laced each morning. Victor was very understanding and apologised profusely for his mother's behaviour after she left following dinner. "I'm sorry about all this, Wendy, but when my mother gets the bit between her teeth only my father could ever control her." "I don't mind most of it Vic, I just wish she'd let me make my own mind up," Sam grumbled. "It's like she has this vision in her head of what I am supposed to be and one way or anther she's going to make me fill it." "I know, Wendy, she was just like that with me when I was a kid," he said. "And I wish I could stop her, but when she gets going even my dad had problems with her." Every morning, within an hour of Victor leaving, his Mother arrived to enforce Sam's adaptation to her program of feminisation. Instead of being able to hide in the house, she used him as her 'girl Friday' and where she went, Sam, or rather Wendy, did. It was a very rare day from the moment that Mrs Barford got involved that he did not spend at least half of it in public. This crash course in public life soon accustomed Sam to being perceived as a girl, and that opened the door for Victor to start taking 'her' with him to most of the summer's vintage car club events. The first event was the Easter tour, which started in Canterbury and finished at Winchester with an overnight stop near Crawley that took in two areas of outstanding natural beauty and a National Park. Sam was more than a little apprehensive when they signed in with Victor's Sunbeam but ended up really enjoying it and had a lot of fun with the period outfits. However the most important experience he got from the vintage car scene was when Victor took him to meet Ronnie and Lucy when he delivered the E type just after he saw the doctor for the second time. Although Sam was by now used to being Wendy in public he felt very apprehensive about the trip because they were staying over night and it was the first time they had actually shared a bed. In the end it turned out to be a lot of worry about nothing. Victor was the perfect gentleman, and Ronnie and Lucy were lovely. "Ha'way!" a stocky slightly balding unshaven bloke wearing overalls called as Victor help Sam from the Range Rover. "You made good time, Vic." "Hey Ron," Victor said with a grin. "Meet Wendy." "I'd shake hands pet, but." He held up his oily hands. "Is this it?" "Yeah. Its 67 series 1," Victor said. "Aye," Ronnie said. "Don't look that bad on first glance." "What's the summer program like?" Victor asked as Ronnie examined the E- type. "Busy, we're doing Cornwall if you're interested?" he commented releasing the tie down straps. "Pete and Emma are hoping to take their Silver Ghost if I can suss out the electrical problem, and Lucy wants us to take the 1914 Sunbeam." He jabbed his thumb at the gleaming car on the forecourt. "Which means if you two use the Rambler we could have a shot at the oldest combined?" "Yeah. Count us in," Victor said. "Where's Lucy?" "Somewhere up on the moor looking for a good view for a commission she's got from the parish council." Ronnie said adding. "Does it roll?" "Yeah." Lucy appeared perhaps twenty minutes later calling, "You're early." "We left early doors to miss the traffic Luce." Victor said, "Come meet Wendy." She was a tall willowy woman with her hair tied back in a loose pony tail. "Hi Wendy, I'm Lucy Owens," she said, adding with a long-suffering look at her husband. "They'll be all day buggering about with that, want a cuppa?" Sat over the kitchen table she said completely out of the blue. "You're very convincing, Wendy, how long have you been on RLT?" Sam blushed brightly, shocked that he had been 'read.' "Oops sorry, that did not come out right," she said with a blush. "Didn't Vic tell you that I'm post op transgendered." "No!" Sam said with a gasp. "Isn't that bloody typical!" Lucy said with a naughty grin. "Men!" "How long?" "Since I transitioned?" Sam nodded. "Seven years next month, I had my final surgery in 2013," she said handing him a mug of tea. Chatting about how she started, Lucy slowly pulled Sam's story from him and over the following months became a very close friend. If he ever had any issues about the path he was being pushed to walk, Lucy was at the end of the phone full of good advice, and, although a good fifteen years his senior,she became his first girl friend. On weekends, when he escaped Victor's mother's clutches, she took him shopping, usually accompanied by Emma, another classic car owner's wife. A first Sam did not notice any physical changes from either the implant or the injections but, after meeting Lucy, he did found himself becoming more willing to accept Mrs Barford's 'guidance' as she re-educated him. It was like a cross between a charm and secretarial school. She taught Sam to walk, talk and eventually think in line with her exacting standards while enforcing that he did everything in a 'delightfully' graceful and feminine manner. No matter what was programmed for the day, the first thing was a dance session and Sam rather enjoyed this, she also spent a lot of time working on his walk, even to the point of having him walk up and down balancing books on his head. As the months passed, little by little the hormones, and the behaviour that Mrs Barford was teaching him leached into Sam mind as his psychology became increasingly feminised. Meanwhile the shift in his endocrine system started to alter his sense of self from male to female. Little by little the hormonal treatments began to progressively influence 'her' emotional responses and Wendy unconsciously started making choices that would meet with his approval. Perhaps the most obvious indication of 'her' increasingly feminine mindset was how she found herself becoming more affectionate towards Victor. Soon it was time for another visit to the doctors, and perhaps eight weeks after that, Sam started to notice his chest swelling, and Victors mother was delighted. "Marvellous my dear!" she exclaimed when she was lacing him into his corset and noticed his swollen nipples. "You're beginning to sprout, and will soon be showing the beginnings of a bust line." She smiled at him, adding, "I'm sure you're as delighted as I am dear." Sam was not! He was terrified and wanted to run away, but Mrs Barford had a cure for that as well because the next time he was taken to the doctors the last thing he remember before coming round three days later was bending over for his regular shot. Sam had a few vague memories of being semi-conscious, and hearing them talking, but it was not until he came completely round that he discovered he had a pair of C cup breasts and no testicles! "My word, what a lovely pair Doctor!" she exclaimed as she examined Sam's implants. "And that?" She flicked her finger at my groin. "As requested a bilateral orchiectomy, which will eliminate any further outbreaks of testosterone related discomfort with her transition." He said, "She's making a perfect recovery and can be released in the morning. Also while she was under we did a little work on her face, so no spicy food for a few weeks and make sure she takes her pill daily to instigate the twenty-eight day cycle, although it's no longer strictly necessary, I have put her on a higher dose a maintenance implant to complete her filling out. I think we can consider her ready for final GRS whenever she is ready to take the final step." "That's perfect Doctor, it's just what we wanted to hear, isn't it, Wendy." Sam was beaten and when she looked at him, he swallowed what little anger he managed to generate and said, "Yes, doctor, it is." Recovering from the three surgeries was painful. The physical pain, Sam could handle, but the mental anguish after he saw what remained of his penis and his new, very tender breasts was emotionally shattering, and, if he had not had Victor's shoulder to cry on, there was every chance that he could have topped myself in the month that followed. Once Sam was healed enough to get back on Mrs Barford's program, he was beaten. He no longer had any will power to resist her training and quickly started to become the feminised 'housewife' she wanted him to become. It was almost a year to the day when Victor treated Sam to a holiday in the sun, and, while they were there, he finally came to accept that Sam was dead and Wendy was the only future he had. Over dinner on the final night in a very nice steak house, Victor got down on one knee and in front of a restaurant full of customers proposed to him. Sam did not like how he got where he was, and, if he had been given a choice he would not have become Wendy, but that choice was taken from him. To the sound of the people in the restaurant clapping, Sam did not resist when Victor slipped the enormous engagement ring on his finger. The End. 2019.