Well, I was planning to post this short story on the Patreon, but on further thought, decided it would be just as well to post it here instead. Though I did upload some new 3D artwork.
Anyway, this is not a finished story, and it's really only about as long as a typical caption. It's really just a setup to a transgender story I started last year, which I think was intended to be a transgenderified version of The Nanny (the old sitcom) but I can't really remember where I was going with it all.
Still I hate to waste it, so consider this a sneak peak into my weird collection of unfinished story ideas.
- B-Rex
And since I don't have any good pictures for this to caption, here's an upcoming picture from my Laura Krauff artwork, of Jenni Juggs the bimbofied djinn.
"Oh, who's
the stud cleaning your pool?"
Martin hated the
words the instant they left his collagen-enhanced lips, but the
interview was getting to the weaker portion of his cover, and he
needed the distraction. If only he could get his lilting voice in
check, though. A few more weeks of vocal practice and he'd have had
it down, but there just wasn't enough time.
Mr. Chesterton
looked up from the job application. "Hmm, what? I don't have a
pool clean-- Oh, you must mean Johnny, my son." Martin blinked,
looking back at the young man running a net through the Olympic-sized
pool. The man must've been in his twenties. "Yes, he's been
looking to earn a little extra allowance this summer, so I've let him
do some of the grounds keeping chores."
"He's...
older than I expected," Martin said, his altered vocal cords
adding a lustful tinge to the words he hadn't intended. "From
your advertisement, I thought I'd be expected to tutor and chaperone
your son to and from school."
The rich widow
nodded, a sadness covering his face. "Yes, he was forced to miss
several years of schooling when he was younger, from the rehab after
the... the... accident." The man ran a finger over his worn
wedding ring, and Martin suddenly understood. "He's in perfect
health now, of course, but he has been quite behind the other
students his age. He's starting his Senior year this fall,
thankfully. Part of your tasks will include driving him to the school
and tutoring him in Math, as that's his worst subject."
Martin nodded,
then said, "Oh, Mister Chesterton, does that mean I've got the
job after all?"
He hated the way
his surgically-altered larynx turned the perfectly normal sentence
into a seductive coo, but it was too late to worry about that. He did wish he hadn't argued with the doctors, demanding they tighten his vocal cords more than their original recommendations. He'd just been worried he'd end up sounding too much like his old male self. Now he sounded like a sexed up teenager, not the adult woman he was meant to appear.
"Why yes, it does indeed." The
forty-something old man smiled back at the buxom faux-woman, seemingly oblivious to his new employee's inner turmoil. He held out his hand, grasping Martin's fingers delicately. "Welcome to my home, Miss Merriam. We'll just finish the paperwork and then I'll show you to your room."
Martin let out a
sigh of relief. Finally!
The interview had taken over an hour, and
the widow's questions had been getting far too deep into his
carefully constructed false background. Another few questions about
his fake hometown, and he'd have surely let the cat out of the bag.
The conman kept
his reaction to a minimum, however, instead planting a smile over his
thickened lips as his new employer placed an employment contract on
the desk. He signed it quickly, but carefully, keeping his script
fine and feminine just as he'd practiced. The man added his own signature, and with that, Amanda Merriam was officially the
Chesterton Family nanny.
The news of the
son's older age was actually a God-send, Martin reflected, following
his new boss out of the office and down the mansion's corridors to
see the quarters he'd be living in for the foreseeable future. From
the man's advertisement, he'd thoroughly expected to have to take
care of a younger child, possibly even changing diapers and the like.
But a healthy twenty year old was going to be far less hassle.
Which will
leave me that much more time to work on seducing the widow,
Martin thought, grinning as the older man gave him a tour of his new
suite. He mentally recalculated his plan; this new development could
probably shave another few months off, easy.
The plan had been
a bit harebrained when it first came to Martin, but he had been
desperate, and so far everything was going much better than he'd ever
dared hope. Originally he'd planned to spend a few months seducing
the rich widow, marrying the man, and then divorcing him at the
earliest opportunity, taking half of the man's multi-billion dollar
estate in the process.
But while
recuperating from the half-dozen surgeries that had transformed him
into a very convincing woman, the thirty-year-old conman had seen the
advertisement for a nanny at the Chesterton mansion. He'd instantly
applied, knowing it would give him his best shot of getting close to
the widow. Living under the same roof, he'd have far more opportunity
to catch the man's eye, than he'd ever have had trying to compete
with the other real
women at charity balls and the local country club.
Now that he had
the job officially, it would be only a matter of weeks before he had
the insanely rich man wrapped around his finger. And thanks to the
widow's strong Catholic upbringing, Martin even had the perfect
excuse to avoid trying out his new surgically-built pussy.
At least until
the honeymoon, he added, grimacing at
the thought. Still, I'll deal with
that bridge when I come to it. If my luck continues to hold out this
well, I might be able to avoid EVER having sex with the rich bastard.
And once I'm divorced and my bank accounts are full, it's just one
quick stop back in Thailand, and I'll have my cock back in place and
these ridiculous tits off my chest. Nothing can stop me now!
