Chameleon: The Perfect Heist

This was supposed to be saga which includes an earlier work, The Masterplan but I stopped due to writer’s block. Also, readers may have noticed similarities to Kendall's Disguised as an Angel which is a gorgeous cap by the way (do read it if you have not).

Transcript:

Part 1:

The Eyes of Lovelace, a ring worth of many fortunes. Rarely seen, this necklace would be finally unveiled to the public in an upcoming charity event. Many admired it, few wanted it for their own including the Chameleon's client.

The Chameleon was no stranger to a heist but when he reviewed the security and itinerary of the event, it had dawned on him why his client wanted him to do this.

First thing was to get close to the host family. Particularly, the Chameleon was interested in the young master, Aldric Armistead, a sheltered mommy’s boy who never really saw the outside world much. So with eager hands, the Chameleon started his work.

After three weeks, the stage is set and the Chameleon was ready to bring Aldric’s potential partner-to-be out to the world. Finishing squeezing himself to the tight corset and flesh girdle, he wore the specialised flesh-toned bodysuit that he had made for this occasion, its texture no different to a young woman’s skin.  The skin encased his whole body, covering his false padding and modifications; the tightness was  unbearable but the Chameleon had grown to enjoy this. Small perky tits, lithe and feminine body; smooth, young and supple skin, slightly marred with blemishes (something the Chameleon took pain to add for the sake of realism) greeted the Chameleon's mirror but it was not done.

The Chameleon took a face off of the dressing table and from the opening, he put it on and secured it around his head. Adjusting his new face, the Chameleon proceeded to put on a dirty blonde wig, a favourite of the young master, and examine himself in the mirror. The young woman in the mirror mimicked his every gesture like a puppet. Covering the seam with a special flesh-toned cream, the shell is complete. The Chameleon had superficially become Velma Tanner.

Crafting the perfect partner was a bit of challenge. The Chameleon knew his overbearing mother would scrutinise Aldric’s partner so first impression counted and that meant her looks, demeanor and gestures; something innocent would disarm all observers and looking into the mirror, the Chameleon knew he had nailed it.

Next was her clothings. Preparing to change, the Chameleon allowed Velma personality to surface, his identity quickly replaced to that of a meek, innocent 28 years old; his demeanor became gentle, his gait mellowed to a slower pace, the body’s hip swaying to imitate that of a woman and the gestures becoming more feminine. Finally, Velma had arrived.

Picking up the white stocking, Velma relished the feeling of silk against her soft skin as she rolled it up her leg and carefully secure it with the garterbelt. Velma then proceeded to wear the white lacy panties, the lace fitted snugly and felt sensual against her nether region. Once done, Velma finally put on the white backless evening gown, a slit on the side would reveal her toned leg, throwing subtle hints that Velma may not be little miss innocent after all.

Looking in the mirror, Velma smiled and posed. White. The colour of purity and virginity. Traits that would definitely appeal not only to the young master but the overbearing mother as well. The trojan horse was set however would the Armistead allowed her in?

Part 2

It had been 1 month after Velma was welcomed into the Armistead family. However, the heist had just only begun. Velma was merely the trojan horse, a bait for a bigger fish: Emilie Armistead, mother of Aldric Armistead and matriarch of Armistead family. For those 3 months, the Chameleon closely scrutinised Emilie under his silicone disguise, her mannerism, behaviour, habit, routines, schedules, personality and voice, all detailed and noted by the observant imposter-to-be. Getting close to the reclusive Armistead family not only allows him to do all that but also to take the mould of her face and body.

On the day before a charity event hosted by the Armistead family, the Chameleon was ready for the next phase. Under his Velma disguise, he had earlier lied about a family emergency and regretted not being able to attend the charity ball. The night before Velma left, the Chameleon invited Emilie for some wine in her hotel room. Bringing Emilie’s favourite wine, Emilie would definitely have no reason to reject the Chameleon. Spiking it with sedative, Emilie would definitely have no reason to reject to the Chameleon replacing her as well.

After a few minutes of idle chatter over the wine, Emilie fell to a deep slumber. Checking her pulse and reaction, the Chameleon started to strip. The disguise was stripped off quickly and reaching under his bed, he took out tools of his trades: a corset, a crotchless girdle, a pair of breast form specially tailored to Emilie’s size and shape, the bodysuit, wig and finally, the mask. The foundation was first donned, the corset, girdle and breast form, shaping his male figure into that of a feminine one. Next, was the bodysuit which the Chameleon meticulously wore, covering himself with soft, smooth and human-like silicone, its skin tone and imperfection identical to that of Emilie’s. Last was the mask and wig. The mask was lovingly crafted from Emilie’s mould, her wrinkles, blemishes, eyelashes and even eyebrows carefully copied from the original. Nothing was left unchecked, even the small bump at the back of her earlobe was copied as well.

When the Chameleon opened his eyes, he liked what he saw in the mirror, a naked Emilie Armistead, her movement followed the Chameleon’s commands and her facial expression mimic whatever the Chameleon wished. It was perfect, nobody would know. Satisfied with his handiwork, the Chameleon proceeded to finish the impersonation: replicating the real Emilie’s makeup, stripping of her clothes and wearing them. The Chameleon reveled in how snug the blue silk panties fit around his padded hips and relished the feeling of silk of her black stockings. Donning the rest of the attire on, he tied and gagged the still sleeping Emilie up while injecting a fresh dose of sedative in her, hopefully enough to last till the next day. And with that, the false Emilie left the hotel room.

That day, nobody suspected a thing when Emilie returned. Not even her husband when he was in the mood for some intimacy. The imposter brushed him aside exactly like how the original would initially, moaned like how the original would when the husband fondled the imposter’s fake clit, teased her husband’s weak spots like what the original revealed during her drunken stupor, imitate her climax perfectly in their favourite position.     

The next day came and the charity ball would soon began. The fake Emilie started to don her evening dress, the garment the original intended to wear, the Chemeleon knew of course, he picked it out for her as Velma on one of the shopping trip. Despite the bodysuit, the fake Emilie could mentally feel the silkiness of the gown, how it glided across the silicone skin as she wore it. The richness of the red in her dress would be attention grabbing. Additionally with her alluring, confident aura and dignified pose, both of which the imposter had spent most of the time practicing, the presence of the Armistead family would be felt and omniscience in the ballroom. That was of course according to the Chameleon's plan, the more eyewitnesses, the better.

Once she donned the black evening gloves, she moved onto the zenith of the evening: the Eye of Lovelace. Under the deepest secrecy only known by Mr Armistead, the ring was transported to the Armistead household from the impregnable vault of a Swiss bank. Only for high profile occasion such as this would the Armistead family exposed the Thus, this ruled out the traditional heist. Additionally, the Armistead family members were surrounded by bodyguards at all times except if they wish for privacy, so traditional kidnapping was out as well. So the only way was trickery and deceit, both of which the Chameleon excelled at. The fraud Emilie admired the unnatural cyan glow of the jewel, the prime reason for its exquisity and exorbitant price. However, it was not the latter of which the Chameleon’s client valued. It was its haunting beauty that attracted it, this the Chameleon understood. Too bad, he was not interested despite his fascination with the opposite sex.

Crossing her nylon clad leg, the imposter smirked. The next day after the ball was over, she will perform her disappearing act using another set of disguise that she had prepared under the watchful eyes of her bodyguard. An ‘anonymous’ tip-off will disclose where the real Emilie was all this while and with so many people witnessing the fake Emilie on the ball, it would be impossible to cover up her replacement without embarrassing the Armistead family. By the time the Armistead family launched a manhunt for Velma, the Chameleon would be half a world away, preparing his next mission.

The Stepford Affairs

Transcript:

How does one infiltrate a recently found secret society whose members are young billionaires and influential figures in their respective industries?

While most other intelligence agencies would bug the crap out of their mansions or even insert agents under minor cover into their midst, Agent Vann would like to think otherwise. “You see,” he proposed to his superior, “if you not only want to know what they are doing, you have to get close to them figuratively, and literally.”

And so the plan begins, funds are low, manpower is scarce and the highe-ups are doubtful of Vann’s crazy idea but Vann shrugged, he has expected this and getting approval was merely a formality

Appreciating the fine furnishing of the toliet he is currently in, he snaps himself out of it and strips naked, exposing his lean, androgynous body. Despite his genes granting him a short and lithe body, he still have to go through a strict regime of diet and exercise to make sure his body doesn’t turn too muscular or obese. It has been tough but he is sure that the result will speak for itself.

He then proceeded to put on his breast form, a modest C-cup to say the least. Vann would have preferred them bigger but his mission had spoken otherwise, else he would stand out too much. Satisfied with the position of the breast form, he proceeded to put on the hip pads. This with the breast form will create a silhouette of femininity however, it doesn’t end here.

With great anticipation, Vann takes out a piece of bodysuit. Feeling the softness and elasticity of the suit, he could not help but marvel at this fine piece of engineering. ‘R&D had really outdone themselves this time,’ he thought as he puts it on, squeezing and smoothing any wrinkles that creased along the suit. When it’s all done, he looks into the mirror and grins. Staring back at him is a willowy body, its breast, full and soft, its skin, smooth and fair and its nether region, flat and void of any masculinity that was present; instead, only a slit and trimmed bush hides its engorged member. However, what marvels Vann was not the perfections but rather the imperfections; the acnes and blemishes even the vein was painstakingly added and detailed, exactly what Vann specified.

Yet, the transformation is not complete as what he sees is that of a grotesque human, a female body with the head of a man. ‘Time for a disappearing trick,’ Vann smiled as he pulls out his triumph card.

The mask stares back at him, hollowed but lifelike. Hair was attached to the mask so as to prevent wig lines. After putting in the dentures and blue contact lenses, Vann puts the mask over his head and he felt the persona that he has trained himself for months washed over him. Vann Colton is washed away and in turn, bringing a Caitlin Henson in. The transformation is complete.

When Caitlin opens her eyes, she is disturbed by how she looks, her hair was a mess and her face was void of make-up. A person of a status should not walk around like that at all! Combing her hair and reveling in the silkiness of it, she calls a number on a rather unremarkable phone.

“It’s done. 30 minutes,” her voice was deep and gravel, uncharacteristic of her sweet face. Hanging up, she exits the bathroom to carry out the final phase of the plan. On her bed was a sleeping figure, her face, body and hair are identical to Caitlin's. In fact, one would be convinced that she’s Caitlin's clone, much less a twin. ‘And soon, there would only be one Caitlin,’ Caitlin smirks as she starts tying her twin. In 30 minutes time, her clone would be sent off to a faraway place and the imposter would take her place as the wife of the billionaire, Adam Kaufmann.

Picking up the phone, Caitlin knows she has to call her hubby as part of her routine to report to that ‘paranoid old man’ as she remembered in her conversation with the housewives of Adam’s inner circle of friends. How does she know? Why she’s Caitlin, of course she knows.

“Hi honey, how are you? Aw, you miss me, that’s cute. Well, I miss you too, can’t wait for you to come back. Eh, what did I do today?” Caitlin tilted her head, gone was the masculine voice and replaced was a sweet voice of british descent. “I, I got a makeover. Oh yes. A makeover. I will send you a selfie later,” Caitlin replies, her tone conveying mischief and lust.

Behind every successful man is a woman, so what if you replace that woman? That is the point of Operation Stepford, to wield the powerful influences of these men through where they care the most, their loved ones. This secret club of wealthy people is the starting point and if Vann makes it, this could expand to other areas as well, tipping global politics to the agency’s favour.

“But what if I don’t make it?” Caitlin thought as she puts on a tight white teddy, “well, I will enjoy it anyway,” she smiles as she prepares for the next day.

Compensated Dating

Reading about Enjo Kosai may help understand the context behind this caption.

Transcript:

“Do you think he knows?” the bespectacled lady whispered, her voice was breathy but controlled, as if the lady was trying to maintain it.

“Nah, I doubt it. I can see lust in his eyes,” her partner boredly whispered back, her voice was unusually low like a man.

“How did you know? And hey, don’t break character!”

“When you’re in this field long enough, you can observe a hell lot of things,” the partner dismissed him, “Besides, we look like two girls checking him out,” the partner giggled, her voice radically transformed to a bubbly and feminine one.

Tetsuo couldn’t believe what he had gotten himself into. An amatuer actor by trade, he had a unique gift of mimicry which yielded him some gigs but these were not enough to sustain himself in a city like Tokyo. Contemplating to apply for a second job, Shin, a friend of his, introduced him to the job of compensated dating.

“Don’t you mean reverse-compensated dating?”

“Oh no, I mean you as a girl, fishing for man,”

“I’m not becoming a tranny,”

“You don’t have to; all we need is an illusion, dear Tetsuo.”

And here he was, squeezed into a corset, gaff and padded girdle. Breast form and long hair wig to emphasise his femininity. However, the most impressive disguise was the mask, it felt real; malleable, firm and smooth, like what you expect from a young woman's skin. Wearing it over and donning female clothing, Tetsuo couldn’t believe his eyes; he had regressed into a girl in her early twenties.

“Well Mika, should we go and earn our, keep?” Tetsuo was snapped back to reality, facing Tetsuo, or rather Kaori, the fake female smiled. This could work after all!

“Of course Kaori, it’s not good to keep them waiting,” the bespectacled Mika replied chirply.

Joy of Youth

And this is the last of the batch I'm uploading. Whew, I'm saving this post to apologise for my absence. As what many could attest, I've been busying myself in meatspace and sadly, this trend will worsen. So all I could do is to sporadically update with multiple content rather than updating every week or so.

That said, I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the caps I have created. Thank you.

Transcript:

Wealth is a double-bladed sword, especially so when it comes to love and friendship. My wealth has invited many shallow people into my circles, the gold diggers, male and female alike and I grow weary of second guessing their intention. And now, I am 69 years old and still single, as you can probably tell, I grow desperate to seek companion and perhaps, to feel youthful once again.

So I pick Kristie as my wife.

Kristie isn’t very different from all the gold diggers I knew but she is probably one of the most beautiful ones I’ve known. That was however, not the reason. I chose her because I had tasted the forbidden fruit. As you perhaps know, a man of my wealth have many hobbies and one of them being toys collection, specifically antique toys; toys of a forgotten era when children actually actively play with and run around the house with them. A few weeks ago, a toy ray-gun was delivered to me, its design was something out of a 60s science fiction, coils at the tip and colourful, something that reminds me of Flash Gordon. More interestingly, it came with a note and an instruction that stated that it could turn people into wearable skins. Naturally I laughed it off but I added it into my collection anyway.

My strange hobby was pretty much common knowledge to those who knew about me so guests naturally wanted to see them whenever I have a social function in my home. Kristie was one of them. She was alone when she wanted to see my collection and chanced upon the toy-gun. Amused, she took and triggered it while aiming herself and blacked out.

How did I know it? I wore her on that night. The instruction was right. Chancing upon it, I hid her skin until the crowd went home and inspected it. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to wear her out. The skin was smooth, delicate but firm, her insides were warm and slick, like wet lace. As I fit my 69 years old frame into her voluptuous 29 years old skin, my body squeezed and conformed, my hips flared, my chest expanded, my belly flattened and my gentials fused with the skin, aligning it with her nether region. When I pull her head over mine, I saw her life flashing in front of me. And it was then, I knew I had become Kristie Penner, 29 years old financial consultant. The vitality of youth flowed through me and I was addicted to it; her zeal for life, her boundless energy, her health and her sex. It was more than what I could ask for so I decided, I need her.

So I courted her and spoilt her with my wealth and power. I gave her everything she wanted and in return, she gave me her body, literally and figuratively. Initially, I wore her to feel young again in the hope of capturing my youthful days; I would run, go to the gym, swim and bask in the sun as her. Soon after, curiousity got the better of me and I began exploring my new found sex; fondling my ample bosom, fingering my moist snatch and caressing my creamy thigh. The masturbation sessions were intense and the ecstasy felt was beyond of what I am capable of in my old body.

Thereafter, my lifestyle change, I would jog and go to the gym in her tightest running short and tank tops, and swim in her sexiest bikini outfit, flaunting my erotic body to everyone I meet, the attention and envy I received was exhilarating. From there, it escalated; I begun to indulge in femininity, I learn about makeup and fashion and soon with my allure, attracted males and females partners alike. Sex was just the icing on the cake with my new found youth.

Alas, I know nothing lasts forever. Soon, I will die and Kristie will inherit all of my earthly possessions and life goes on. At least that’s what I would like people to believe, but I, Delroy Dirkson, will live on forever as Kristie Dirkson, widow of a once lonely, desperate billionaire.

The Masterplan

Originally, this was supposed to be a saga or sort but writer's block was a massive pain so I stopped. Interestingly, the first part was good enough to stand on its own.

Transcript:

I’ve been watching her ever since she’s here, the new maid. She has been here for only a few weeks and yet, she has mesmerized me; the way she walks, sashaying down the corridor in her 3-inch black pump, the way she talks in her honeyed voice, smiling at me whenever we have a chat, the way she gestures; timid yet flirtatious, always playing with me and at the same time implying we could be more than master and servants and the way she looks, her face so innocent, yet mischievous and playful.

Today, she came into my room to “clean”. In her usual 3-inch black pump, flesh-toned stockings, and her shortened skirt, she has come to tease again. I know, because she only reserves this sight for me. The way she cleaned, putting herself in positions where she almost exposes her panties for me while showing off those fairly plump thighs of hers. Hopefully, she doesn-Oh shit, she’s looking this way!

The Chameleon smiled slightly. Sir Landebert’s youngest son bashfulness can be endearing at times but this is not the time for pleasure. It has taken him quite a while craft Eliza, his current disguise, and much to his luck, young master is surprisingly into homely girls like Eliza. But he has bigger agenda to take care of - The Heart of Claudia; it is one of the most prized jewelry on this planet; its net worth is in tens of millions and it is the family heirloom of the Landebert family.

At least for now.

The problem however, is that nobody knows where it is except the family itself and this is where Eliza comes in. Purposely bending over to reach for the basket, the Chameleon exposes what the voyeur is yearning for and smiled. Hopefully, the Chameleon thought, Eliza would be able to get it through the heart of the man in front of her.

Honey Pot

Transcript:

 

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.

First Date Jitters

Transcript:

 

Channing was getting the first-date jitters. Sure, this was his first time going out on a date but he was having butterflies in the stomach for a whole different reason.

“Calm yourself, it’s going to be alright. You train yourself for this,” Channing muttered under his breath as he took the corset and put it on. “Remember. Sway your hips when you walk, don’t exaggerate!” Feeling the tightness around his abdomen, he went on to put on his padded girdle, his “girl shorts”. The girdle with the corset created an illusion of feminine curves and hiding his erected member under the flesh-coloured garment.

“This costs me a lot but it’s worth it,” Channing picked up his breast form as he carefully apply the adhesive. Glueing it to his chest, he looked into a full-body mirror and adjusted it. Channing hated mirrors like that, it reminded him of his body and his gender; what he could not be when he was born but things were different now. His mirror was set up to only show the body of the user minus the face and now it reflected an image of a female body; its legs were rather thick but toned, shaved and moisturized, the body had a feminine curve with lacy corset and a girdle however, what stood out was the lack of female genitalia and outlining of the breast form. Channing smiled to himself, it was alright. A good dress would be able conceal the lower half and a good bout of makeup would make the breast form natural as if he was born with it.

Next was the clothing. Black stockings, white brassiere and thongs, lace dresses embroidered with floral patterns and matching open-toed heels. He loved the feel of lace and silk against his skin as he put them on. With each garment, he felt a step closer to who he was. “There,” Channing spoke but the words that came out was modulated and higher in pitch. Finally, Channing sauntered to his dressing table, his hips swaying while the heels clicking hard with every step against the wooden floor. On it was a female head with long blond hair stared emptily at him, he carefully peeled the skin off and wore it over his head, feeling his alter ego, no, his true self surfacing.

Bending over and looking into the full length mirror again, Charlie saw her reflection. She gave a demure smile and the reflection did the same. The first date jitter was gone and in place was confidence of a woman that knows her sexuality. Looking at the clock, she knew she would be late for her date, a man that goes by the name Johnny. Charlie looked at the reflection again; going by her looks, she was sure Johnny would forgive, it’s after all, their first date and the female always came late, right?