Thursday, 5 December 2013

Honey Pot

The Chameleon checked to see whether his target was sound asleep. The job this time round is not particularly difficult, get some information from some of the top executives and relayed it back to his client. The jucier the information, the more money it entailed.

The Chameleon then tied and gagged his target. The difficult part of the operation was the company that he was to spy against. A Chinese company of which their top executives were Chinese males. Using the classic honey pot trap would work but they wouldn’t be keen on divulging secrets to local prostitutes, much less a foreign one. However, the Chameleon knew people of such power would have a secret affair with a mistress or some kind, thus the investigation led him to one “Xue Zhen Lin” and thus, the stakeout began. Three months of intense stakeout and exercise later, it was time to carry out the ‘heist’.

The Chameleon started his transformation. The corset was tightened more than usual to fit the Asian frame and the bodysuit was specially made to duplicate Miss Xue’s fair skin tones. With the bodysuit adjusted, the Chameleon could feel himself regressing and Miss Xue’s personality surfacing. But not yet, he mused. One more thing. Taking the mask out, the Chameleon proceeded to wear it over his head, feeling the material concealing and encasing him, effectively masking his psyche.

“Oh dear, look at me,” Zhen Lin said, her heavy accented English that the Chameleon had perfected, as she frowned at her bald reflection. Her long luxurious raven hair was put up and tied and the transformation was complete. Looking into the mirror, she saw exactly as how the world remembered her, fair skin, pert nose, modest bosom, with killer legs; all her perfection and imperfection, duplicated down to the smallest blemish.

“Not yet,” she giggled exactly as how the Chameleon remembered. A white Cheongsam, black silk pantyhose and some daring undergarments underneath later, she looked into the reflection and saw exactly how Zhen Lin would go on a date with his ‘boyfriend’.

“Later, dear. Don’t wait up, I’ll be late,” she blew a kiss to her sleeping twin.


  1. I would love to be this girl. Or rather, have the ability to be so many women!

  2. Hear, hear! I wish to be so many women as well. Thanks, Simone!