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?!

Father-Daughter Bonding

Transcript:

“Oh daddy, are you awake? Now, now, don’t struggle, you will just be chaffing your wrist against the bond! And don’t bother screaming, I have sent the servants for a day off and mother, well, she’s in a deep sleep. Don’t look at me like that daddy, how could I hurt my own mother?”

“Ah, I see that you have caught my reflection, then I guess I will drop the pretense. You see, my client had sent me to, persuade you to forgo the business expansion into Europe. As you can see, I have your daughter. Or should I say, I am your daughter?”

“However, my client is benevolent. He proposed a postponement of your plans by six months. In return, your daughter, family and most importantly your reputation will be safe. A fair deal, isn’t it?”

“Do not worry about your board of directors, my client has paid a few of my kins to make sure they are in the same boat as you so you would have full support as well,”

“I don’t really like the look of your face, Mr Wang. It seems you don’t understand the position you’re in. Your daughter has a body to die for and I know people who would pay top dollars to have a go with her and a whole lot of people who would appreciate a live session of her getting fucked. Your wife, while not attractive to most, could garner a loyal fanbase of people who have a fetish for old woman. All of these with me in the driver seat and trust me Mr Wang, I am familiar with all kinds of debauchery and I have never failed to please a crowd,”

“You still don’t look convinced. Oh the reflection! Don’t worry,”

“Hah, the look of your face is priceless. It takes time and experience but I can shift my face back to the original at will,”

“Where is your daughter? Silly old man, I am your daughter! Remember her overseas trip? Yeah, I met her there and possessed her, just like that. All those shopping trips and family outings and dinner? Yep, you guessed it. It’s me. You couldn’t have guessed a man is inside lil’ Hui Wen and has perfectly imitated her so fucking well,”

“So do we have an agreement? That’s my good man. Why am I dressed like that? I will come to that right now. You see, daddy, I need additional insurance to your co-operation and I am fucking horny right now. You see this video camera here? Yes, I think I know what you’re thinking. I wonder how would the Chinese public react if they see one of their top CEO is actually fucking his own daughter?”

“Don’t deny it. I know of your fetish. If not for it, I would have hopped your mistress instead for this. Aha, my daddy is rather naughty isn’t he? Come on now, let’s know each other more.”

One Night Stand

Transcript:

The couch’s leather creaked as the couples on it embroiled themselves in lust and love. The woman beneath moaned but she spoke no words as her tone conveyed her message well and clear: ‘fuck me harder’. The men under her reciprocate in kind to her desire by thrusting his cock harder into her glistening snatch.

The moans became hotter and lustful as the intensity of their intercourse reached to a feverish pitch. The men beneath squeezed his girlfriend’s soft bottom tighter as he felt himself nearing to the climax. The woman sensing the stiffness of his partner’s cock, rode harder and relished the hotness of his shaft sliding in and out like a piston, lubricated by her love juice. Squeezing her vagina muscles to get more of what she desired, she whispered huskily into her ears of her loved one to let it all out into her. The man heard it and complied to her wanton desires, ejaculating his hot semen into her hungry snatch with a grunt. Receiving it, the woman cooed sensually and nibbled his ears with a blissful smile before setting her head on his chest as she let the man catch his breath.

“Oh Ida,” the man wheezed, “that was probably the greatest one we had, why-”

“Kevin, shh,” Ida hushed him with his finger, “No question,”

Kevin shut his mouth. He didn’t knew what had gone into his ex-fiancee who left him penniless after their divorce. One doesn't see that happening often outside of drama serials but here he was, rekindling old fire with his former love. ‘Maybe it was pity sex,’ he thought dejectedly, his mind going through the scene of his doctor telling him that his cancer was terminal. But other than his best friend, how would she had known? ‘I will need to confront that bastard, this is getting awkward,’ he mentally regretted it as he recovered from the post-coitus mood.

Ida felt her vagina still aching. Obviously still not satisfied with current session, Ida inwardly cursed herself, she wanted to be a good partner for his ex-fiance and being slutty right now would be spoiling the mood. However, she would not be a bodyhopper if she had not mastered the arts of sex and arousing a male for another go was one of the earliest tricks she had to learn.

Ida or rather Doran, Kevin’s accursed best friend, was a bodyhopper for more than a decade already, in between his hopping, he still . When he had learnt of Kevin’s situation, he went to Ida to deliver the news, hoping that Ida would at least accompany or visit a dying man but when Doran heard her cold rejection, he moved onto his backup plan.

Now in her body, his innate nature of being a bodyhopper, his unusually high libido, is becoming a liability to the romantic mood he had set up for Ida and Kevin. Slowly moving down to his waist, he, in Ida’s body, took Kevin’s cock and licked his shaft slowly, savouring the taste of Ida’s love juice mixed with Kevin’s semen while teasing Ida’s clit. The moans and feeling of getting licked snapped Kevin out of his thoughts as he felt his libido rising again. The night had just began and Doran would make this his greatest night of his best friend’s remaining days.

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.

Martha for a Day

Transcript:

When my grandfather died, he gave me something weird. The “Medallion of Zulo” as identified by his will. So while his family and relatives received material wealth and properties, I got an unremarkable medallion.

What a grandfather.

But he was always weird, collecting antique and such. Even when he found out about my crossdressing habits, he never bat an eyelid and promised to keep a secret.

What a grandfather indeed.

That changed however when I decided to raid Martha's, my cousin, wardrobe again. She recently bought a thigh high boots and I wanted to try it on for size. Slipping into her white panties, black tights, donning a black tight sweater dress (my favourite) and finally, the leather thigh high boots, I decided to wear the medallion as well, thinking that it would match the clothing. There, I found my body transformed; my hair lengthened and turned dark brown while my body shrank and distorted into a lithe feminine figure. Tits grew while my dick withdrew. Hair lengthened and turned a darker shade of brown while I felt my facial feature changed and realigned by some unknown force. Not the most pleasant feeling, mind you.

When the transformation completed, I had never felt so snugly in my cousin’s clothes before, like as if it was made to fit me but looking at the mirror, it was me who was changed to fit my cousin’s clothes. In fact, I am my cousin now, even the voice sounds the same.

It was then the weird inheritance suddenly made sense. That devious old man knew all this along. Damn you, you dead glorious bastard!

Posing in front of my cousin’s mirror, I could not help but smirked at the possibilities of this gem. Who should I try next, my sister, mother, the neighbours, my classmates? So many faces went through my mind, each of them more enticing than the next but I stopped myself. They could wait but now, as I leered my cousin’s reflection, time to take this to the next level.

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.

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.

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.

A Series of Transformation

Another series of short caps. I'm too wordy sometimes. Hopefully you enjoy this as well.

Sex Appeal

Transcript:

 

Alex needed not opened his eyes to know the transformation was complete. He could feel the shoulder-length blonde hair, his modest-sized breast and his flat nether region; he had become Mrs Winslow, the mother of his best friend, Pearce. If he had a choice, he would have preferred a younger form, like Mrs Winslow’s daughter, but current situation demands him to be her. Quickly, ramaging through her closet, he donned a yellow camisole, white silky stockings and a pair of matching white heels just in time to hear the living room door open. Taking a deep breath, Alex checked his bearing and put on his most seductive smile.

Mr Winslow had recently grounded him on violating curfew. Try as he had, Pearce had tried to convince his father to do otherwise but he refused to budge. Alex thought, if his son couldn’t persuade him to lessen the punishment, then perhaps, his wife would.

Trickster

Transcript:

 

“Oh yes, fuck me harder!”

A grunt was all she need as her partner started to pump faster, causing her to moan deeper and sluttier. Brent couldn’t believe that his best friend’s younger sister, Joane could be this slutty. Usually when he saw her around, she looked gentle and demure but right in front of her was a slut begging him to “ram his big fat cock deeper into her pussy”. Without hesitation, Brent proceeded to fulfil her request.

Joane was silently giggling to herself as she felt the throbbing dick going in deep with every thrust Brent gave. All thanks to the Medallion of Zulo, Brent thought that he was fucking the usually demure Joane whereas in fact, was fucking her little brother, Francis. All Francis need was Joane’s worn garment, her purple woolen leggings in this case, and the medallion will transform its wearer to the owner of said garment.

“Ah, more! Give it to me more, Brent. Fuck my brains out!”

However, it wasn’t the sex that Francis got off to. Sure the sex was great but what really turned Francis on was the deception of it. Everyone thought they were fucking someone they knew but in actual fact, they don’t. This coupled with the fact that Francis was always playing the seductress, hence, having control over the sex, gave him a power trip that he never had.

“Oh, you’re cumming? Me too honey. Give it to me, baby. Cum in my pussy!”

Peace & Quiet

Transcript:

 

“Something is wrong with me,” Stanford thought as he looked into his cup of coffee. Day-offs is a rare commodity in Stanford’s chaotic and noisy line of work and now that he has it, he decided to piss it off on drinking coffee in an empty cafe, wearing women’s clothes. Not that he looked bad at it, in fact, Stanford looks extremely feminine in it due to his ability to shapeshift into any person he wants.

Sure, he could morph himself to a male supermodel but he preferred the female form. Maybe, it’s the petite frame or perhaps the diversity in women’s fashion but he just felt ‘snugly’ whenever he’s a women.

Initially, all he could was to morph to people he knew or seen and before he knew it, his ability had matured to the point he could simply craft a new identity. This had an ironical effect; nobody knew Stanford Gallagher but everybody knew Jamie, Britney, Amanda, etc, all of them being his alter ego. This caused him much social isolation so being alone was pretty much the norm for him.

Stanford rubbed his nylon clad thigh together and crossed his legs. “Man, what am I doing? It’s my day off,” he grumbled as he sipped the coffee. “Then again, I don’t mind this peace and quiet once in a while.”