To Catch a Voyeur

Transcript:

“Oh yes, that feels so good!” the woman on the sofa moans as her left hand rubs her clit while her other hand busily fingers her own vagina. Her moaning is loud and clear, as if she thinks she is alone in the mansion and her dirty moans will not be heard by anybody from the outside.

She was wrong for I am peeping at her from my window at next door, feasting my eyes and ears on the lewd scene laid before me. It’s a wonder what can do with a high-powered telescope and a industry grade laser microphone. The woman writhing in pleasure is my neighbour, Claire, a rather demure girl that is considered by many as a piano prodigy. Now clearly, I can see her talent in handling the piano is just as applicable in masturbation with her slender fingers massaging her pussy in varying speed and ferocity.

This is also not the first time I’m peeping at Claire’s self-loving session either. She only masturbates around this time when the house is empty, her stay-home father having his weekly golf session, her mother working as a executive in some fortune 500 company, his brother attending practice with his band and the rest of the servants having their weekly day-off. Here is the perfect time to let herself wild from the strict piano regime and academic life. It’s arousing to see these two different sides of her and I have front row seats for it.

This, however, is the first time I’ve seen her dressed like this. Usually, she would be either in her casual clothes or her school uniform (my favourite) but today, she has apparently raided her mother’s closet and dressing table. Open-toed high heel shoes that accentuate her slender legs, flesh-toned stockings that clings lovingly to her thighs and giving them a warmer tone to her already graceful legs, waist cincher that gives her lithe body a bit of the hourglass shape but the most important change is her makeup. I’ve never seen her with makeup and I’ve always thought she is cute without it. But with it? She’s a fucking goddess, especially the full lips, oh how it begs to be kissed. Claire, you’re putting on quite a show-

“Oh Mister Barlow, I wish this was your cock here. Mmm, fuck me harder Mister Barlow!”

Wait, Barlow? Is she calling my name?

---

I know he has been peeping at me for quite some time. In fact, little Claire here has already known about it hence the routine; she knows when her audience will look in. I would wager Barlow doesn’t know of her exhibitionistic streak but that is alright, today shall be an enlightening day for Mr Barlow.

Zachery Barlow, a millionaire whose fortune is built on top of spams, personal information, stolen credit numbers and other illegal electronic means, is a quirky one. A recluse and apparently shy freelance computer hacker, he spent most of his time holed up in his mansion alone, preferably dealing his business remotely. However, his home is hardened against electronic surveillance, his hardware runs on a custom ROM and worse of all, his wall of lawyers forbids any legal shenanigans against him. No friends, no family, not even a courier enters his mansion. It’s like a high tech Waziristan Haveli.

The Costume Gun is the agency’s secret and most horrifying weapon. Anyone could wield it so the agency restrict all access to it barring a few individuals like me. However, with this situation, I can’t even get close to Barlow or even initiate contact with him until I met Claire. She’s initially used for surveillance as the neighbours probably know him better than we do.

Luring her to a secluded spot under the guise of her friend, I simply zapped her with it and watched her deflated at that instant. The sensation of wearing a skin is familiar but always alien to me: legs narrowing to fit her supple legs, penis disappearing into the skin as I pulled it up; a feminine slit taking its place instead, hips and butt flaring to suit the petite body, chest swelling to fill her perky breast and finally, the head deforming to conform to her demure, delicate face. The transformation was finished, I had become Claire.

While wearing back her clothes, I fought the disorientation and nausea that flooded my senses, it happened whenever my mind adjusted to a new body. Prodding about in Claire’s memory, I was surprised about her little exhibitionistic session with Barlow, looks like the neighbours did know better than us after all. By the time I returned home, I have quickly adapted to Claire’s mannerism and personality due to her memories. No one would suspect me, not even the perverse Barlow.

A moan escapes me as I rubbed the clit of my stolen body’s vagina, my other hand toying with my erected nipple. All these while looking directly at Barlow’s direction, telling him that I know his dirty secret but I am fine with it. Replaying her memory, I mimicked her usual way of masturbating, this way Barlow would even not suspect an imposter. However, I did do something out of character, I stole some lingerie, hosiery and heels from Claire’s mother closet and powdered myself using her mother’s makeup. Despite Claire’s inexperience with such things, I use my own experience from my time as other woman to complement her. The silk stocking clung lovingly to Claire’s toned legs and her heels compliment it. I reasoned that if I wish to get even closer to Barlow, I will have to do some extraordinary makeover with Claire.

Amidst the pleasure assailing my mind, I sense that Claire’s body is nearing to a climax. Smiling lustfully, I got off the counch and knelt on the floor and make sure that my moist and swollen snatch is facing Barlow’s direction. Once done, I gyrate my hips while fingering my pussy with renew vigour.

“Oh Mister Barlow, are you looking at this?” I purr as I look back, mustering the lustiest face I can give to him. My breathing quickens as I feel the vaginal muscle clenching, readying itself a mighty bulidup of lust and carnal desire, “Fuck yes, I’m cumming. Fuck, Mister Barlow, cum on me!” I screamed as the buildup explodes, blanking out my mind and sharply spreading pleasure across my spine.

Today, Claire and Barlow has grown even closer than usual. Tomorrow when Claire visits me personally, I will make sure they grow even closer.

Cat and Mouse

Transcript:

The assailant closed the door behind him and unconsciously touched his face when he saw the man on the bed looking up to him. He knew that the disguise is perfect but that action was a bad habit of his, cultivated from the days of the Cold War espionage.

“Lorie, who was it?” the man asked groggily as if awoke from a slumber.

“Oh it’s Jacqueline, that silly girl. She just wanted to return me the novel I lent her before she goes off to Las Vegas,” the assailant replied. That was not entirely a lie as it was indeed Jacqueline that visited Lorie Perry, at least that was what it looked like to the neighbours and Lorie herself.

“I’m sorry to bother you honey, let’s go to bed,” the assailant said sheepishly as he climbed into the bed. His dulcet tone was exactly like that of Lorie’s, something inimitable to even the most impressive artist, the assailant would never cease to be surprised of the voice coming out of his voice box. It was something the device could do.

“Hmm, should we give her a lift to the airport tomorrow, I’m leaving as well-”

“Oh don’t be silly, her flight would be in the afternoon. Your flight is the morning,” That however, was a lie. In fact, Jacqueline was still downstairs, in the storeroom. The assailant in Jacqueline’s skin visited Lorie under the pretense of returning the novel. Returning the novel, the assailant, in Jacqueline’s plummy voice, asked for a drink. He knew from Jacqueline’s memory, that Lorie had good hospitality and would not reject her offer. Once Lorie had her back turned, the assailant took out a toy gun and aimed at her. With a silent and sudden flash, Lorie was no more, her form disappeared from where she walked, leaving only a pile of her nightwear and skin on that spot.

Quickly, the assailant entered the house, he knew he had not much time else the husband suspected something. Stripping fast without a waste of movement, he pointed the toy gun to himself and triggered. Jacqueline’s face crumpled and sagged as the assailant pulled off the skinsuit from behind his head, showing a rather bald and beady-eyes man. Wriggling out of Jacqueline’s skin, he moved his muscular naked form over to Lorie’s pile and wore her skin through the opening at the back. His thick legs shrank and elongated as he put his legs into the suit, suiting that of Lorie’s shapely legs. Pulling up the suit, his body shrank and wrapped as it adapted to the suit’s frame; his penis flattened and melded with Lorie’s smooth nether region, his hips and ass flared while his abdomen tightened and wrapped into Lorie’s hourglass figure, his chest expanded and moulded itself to fill Lorie’s luscious breast and finally, when he pulled the empty face over his, his face deformed within to aligned itself with Lorie’s face.

Alien sensation filled his body as the assailant's mind got used to the new body he had acquired, he felt a sense of familiarity as he took on Lorie’s identity. This is her home, she is the wife of the assailant’s target, Dr. Oved Silverstein, one of DARPA’s top scientist, tomorrow she had to attend a community event but before that, she was going to accompany her husband to the airport where he would fly to Edinburgh for a conference. A perfect cover. The assailant could leisurely look through the house for information of the alleged anti-costume gun prototype

That done, the assailant defly gather Jacquline’s pile and shove them into the storeroom, after which, she went up all the while sashaying as the assailant quickly conditioned himself to get used to Lorie’s gait while whispering to herself to get used to her manners of speech. All of these within an instant as he tapped into Lorie’s mind, something only the device can do.

As the couples fell asleep, the good doctor never suspected a thing. Even when he coyly wrapped his arms around his wife to get a good feel of her body, her wife merely cooed in return and wrapped her nylon clad legs around his, just like every other night. ‘Ah, my wife knows best,’ the scientist thought as he drifted himself to sleep, smelling the scent his wife always used before he slept.

---

I did it! I finally did it! The mystery of the Costume Gun is no more!

With this, we could use it deter the rampant espionage going around the world and unethical use of such devices. Still it’s fascinating how the costume gun works; breaking down the victim’s molecular structures, it -

“Honey, is that you?”

Oh, my thoughts must have wandered again. No wonder my wife calls me scatterbrained. This reminds me, I have to re-orgranise my desk. It’s a mess but I don’t remember touching it before I left for Edinburgh. Oh whatever, celebration comes first.

“Dear, you cannot believe what I’ve done,”

“Oh honey, you can tell me all about it when we get back from dinner. Now, get dressed now or we’ll be late,” Walking up the stairs, I finally realise the glasses I am wearing. Oh dear, I brought the prototype home! The prototype that allows the user to see through a costume gun user by highlighting the point of entry of the skin. This point of entry on the victim’s skin is created when the costume gun is used on a victim, I have found out this entry is visible under specific electromagnetic spectrum which this pair of glass can filter with visible light.

I get into the bedroom just to see my wife doing her make-up in the room. Ah, as beautiful and sexy as always, I wonder whether would she prepare some kinky-wait, what is that slit?!

Paying his Invoice

Transcript:

No spy is without his or her gadgets and the Chameleon was no exception to that rule. Whether his operations were state sponsored, backed by corporations or even funded by rich or poor individuals, there was only one man he turned to when it came to low-cost but ingenious spy tools: Elijah Mendel, a young twenty something engineer that loved tinkering and spy films. His place of residence? His basement, alone.

The Chameleon remembered the time he met Elijah, it was in some engineering convention that the Chameleon had to infiltrate in order to get closer to his target. Along the way, he bumped onto an unkempt Elijah Mendel who was fruitlessly showing off his ‘useless’ gadgets.

“Mostly useless,” the Chameleon recounted. Those same gadgets were crucial on how he managed to finish that particular assignment and that was how Elijah and the Chameleon business relationship started and flourished.

However, the partnership is not exactly normal. Elijah knew the Chameleon is a master of disguise and the Chameleon knew Elijah was too busy for a relationship, let alone talking to a girl. So in return for affordable, quality and exclusive gadget, the Chameleon got to be his girlfriend for a day or even longer depending on how exquisite the gadget is. The ‘girlfriend’ changed for every request, from celebrity to old crush and sometimes girls from his wildest wet dream.

The Chameleon smiled at that deal. Elijah was a simple man and the Chameleon liked him for that. Usually, people like him would be milked dry but the Chameleon preferred a lasting business relationship, he had enough enemies around him already.

The Chameleon stared at his latest creation, Mrs Roth, Elijah’s 7th grade English teacher. With arms akimbo, he lectured at his own reflection in a feminine briton accent. “Mr Mendel, not doing your homework again? Very well,” her whole demeanor changed as she smirked with lustful eyes, “looks like I have to punish you,”

Satisfied with the performance, the fake Mrs Roth took her purse, time to pay my invoice, the Chameleon thought.

Social Butterfly

Transcript:

Matt Hold is never one who hangs around with people. When you ask his colleagues about him, they will say he is a nice, quiet kid, a bit creepy and awkward but when for anything IT related, you can count on ole’ Matt to fix it. After which, they will grumble about his privilege of working from home.

When you ask his neighbours about him, they will say the same thing, nice quiet but creepy and awkward. After which, they will grumble about his hot girlfriend, Ericka. Man would be bewildered by how a shut-in will get such a hot girlfriend while women will gossip how inappropriately dressed she is sometime.

When you ask his girlfriend about him, she will smile and say that they are not exactly a couple. Matt is just a very good friend and although she knows Matt never socialises much, she assures you that Matt is not a creepy serial killer, just an introvert that likes to spend time alone.

That is true and Matt hates himself for that. He wants to be more sociable and likable and most importantly, he wants to be the center of the crowd. So he turns to Ericka for help, except Ericka is a mask and a realistic bodysuit; a cocoon to shelter Matt’s ego and an outlet for him to be bold and daring. It took him time and money to perfect the art of femininity: the voice, the posture, the walk and the mannerism but at the end, it was worth it. The attention, the opportunities and the intimacy he get is what he wanted, a social butterfly courted by many.

And so here Matt is, comfortably encased in his silicone persona, talking about himself. He is enjoying the attention that you are giving him and as you are about to leave, Matt stopped you. In a practiced, dulcet feminine tone, he asked “we can talk later if you want to, do you wish to talk over a cup of coffee?”  

What’s your reply?

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.

The Mimic: Third Step

For the uninitiated, please refer to previous post.

Transcript:

Summer is here and Darren is bored. After his stint with Diana, he busied himself with his studies so as not to rouse any suspicion from his parents that he’s getting distracted. And now that the finals are over, Darren started to fantasise the next few rounds of impersonation he had planned; perhaps Miss Riley, the office lady down the street or Fu Mei, his quiet Chinese classmate from Chemistry.

However, a dilemma soon dawns on him; he needs money for the summer. If he works, he would have lesser time to hone his craft of impersonation, furthermore, he hates working part-time. Yet, if he doesn’t, he wouldn’t have money to fund his craft or his other activities for that matter.

While Darren mulled over the problem, he remembered that the Lorrin family, down in the suburbs where well-to-do family lives, is in need of a tutor for their only son, Adrian who is one year younger than him. Darren happens to be very good at his studies so this job seems suitable. However, that was not his intention. The Lorrin family has three ladies, the mother, Mrs Lorrin, the eldest daughter who is in college, Nikki and the youngest daughter, Melanie who is one year older than him. Prestige, class and wealth, Darren wonders how these ladies are and got excited when he thought of the various opportunities to learn from them.

Going as himself is acceptable but Darren mused  why not go as a female as well? He can hone his craft while earning his keep, brilliant! And he has the perfect disguise for this situation as well.

“Ah, Aunt Kimber, it’s nice to see you again,” Darren smiles as he looks into the mirror.

“Well, I can’t ignore the request of my favourite nephew now, can I?” the reflection replies in a husky voice. “Aunt Kimber” posed in front of the mirror and inspect her clothes, pin-strip suit hugged tightly to her round body, black tights that enveloped her shapely legs and a spectacle to complete the facade. She has a conservative look but yet exude a sense of allure to observers.

God, I look sexy. Darren thought. Since, I have a bit of time left, might as well have a bit of fun being Aunt Kimber, Aunt Kimber smacked her lips as her hands slipped into her skirt.

The Mimic: First Step

Oh dear, I deleted this on accident. Reposting so that the next post will make a bit of sense.

Best Friend Forever

Inspired by Trevor’s A Walk in the Park and other bodysuit comics.

Transcript:

Tim and I grew up together and in the process, do everything together; sports, hobbies, studies, parties, outings and even holidays, name any social activity and chances are we did it. Knowing him for 19 years, one could even say that I know him better than anybody else. When we go to different college, our friendship wasn’t even compromised, we would still call and talk and occasionally even meet despite our busy schedule.

So when he announced that he is going to ask a girl out, I wasn’t feeling surprised albeit, a bit jealous; Tim had always been chasing skirt and I was his wingman but because of his introverted personality, he never really got any girl. Unsurprisingly, he came to me dejected that the girl rejected him. I winced and yet at the same time, felt relieved; there was no time. It’s time to put the plans in action.

I must admit, I lied at the beginning. We did most of the things together but even my best friend Tim didn’t know that I’m a closet crossdresser. Going to college, I studied theatre and dramatics as an elective to my arts major and that’s when inspiration strikes: if Tim couldn’t find the perfect woman, why can’t I be the perfect woman for him?

And now here I am, Evvie Haleigh, college student from another state visiting relatives for the weekend. Inspecting my auburn wig (he’s a sucker for redhead), blue cardigan, short pink skirt, flesh-toned tights and the 3-inches pump (He’s a leg man), I ready myself for my “first” encounter with Tim.

“Well, my shy Timmy, here I come,” I giggled in my honeyed voice.

The Trouper

Hi guys, apologies for the irregular updates! I wish I could blame it all on my university but I am partly to blame due to my procrastination. So here's a few caps that I've created. I hope you enjoy them.

 

Transcript:

To some, ten years is a long time; to others, it may well be the opposite. To me? It’s long enough to master a set of skills.

“Diana, can you look this way? Yes, smile for the camera. Yes, this is good,”

It’s long enough to learn the many different mannerisms of the fairer sex; how they talk, how they walk, how they present themselves, how to pull off those subtle body languages. After this long, one could even learn how they fuck.

“Now Diana, we need you to strip the cardigan off. Give me a sultry look. Great, very lovely, your subscribers are going to love this!”

It’s long enough to master the art of masking; crafting the mask using different materials and methods, adding those little imperfections to fool those who are sharp and most importantly understanding the different definitions of beauty and how to compromise at all.

“Alright Diana, you know what to do. Let’s show off some of those beautiful skin,”

It’s long enough to maintain a suitable figure; enforcing a strict exercise regime that tones and develops the hip, butt and leg and following a relatively strict diet that maintains calories and fats intake.

“Beautiful darling, absolutely dazzling. Lie on the bed. Lovely.”

It’s long enough to craft the perfect body; customising paddings for the pelvis and wearing a corset to emphasise the girly figure, studying different body types and crafting the different bodysuits for them - skin tones, blemishes, customisable breast size, permeability, etc.

“That’s all for the shoot, Diana. It’s a real pleasure working with you again. Dear, you have to share with me your beauty tips. You look stunning everytime I see you.

And it’s long enough to practice and combine all of these together to create the perfect illusion of femininity.

“Well, Chrs. It’s a secret” I winked.

The Chameleon: Two Stories

Hello, apologies for the lack of updates; life got in the way but nevertheless, I have managed to squeeze out two captions involving our affably (hopefully) evil impersonator.

The Chameleon is at it again with his industrial espionage. This time, he impersonates a cute secretary and creates an alluring vixen persona for himself.

Effective Persuasion

Exploring Alternative Market

Pimpin' the Ladies Out

Hello, here's another update. This one is based on Zn's Symbiont's universe like Fission. Hope you enjoy it.

The Mimic and the Actor

Apologies if it's a bit too long for you to read; this time involves two men at different locations doing the same thing.

The Actor: Win-win Situation

The Mimic: Second Step

The Chameleon Strikes!

Long time no see, that is if anybody is checking this out. Haha...

Anyway, 2 new caps. Hopefully, this time I will update this regularly.