Kappa Theta Alpha

Transcript:

We are the ugly and the unwanted, the social outcasts and the forgettables. Nobody remembers us but that’s fine. In fact, it’s good that we are out of people’s eyes and minds considering what we do.

Today marks the beginning of a new cycle. The upper echelon of the Upsilon Alpha Society will meet and choose the Daughters for this month. They shall be tested to see if they are deemed worthy to be the followers of Juno. I and five of my fellow brethrens are chosen. If all goes well, we would call each other sister by the end of the trial.

Like many of my brethren, I am sickly and unusually tall and thin. No one pays attention to me as if I am invisible to people, they even express their surprise and shock whenever I ‘crept’ up to them. This went on throughout my life until I reached college where I found myself in unexpected company: fellow pariahs like me through unexpected means: a beautiful lady by the name of Samantha. I was weirded out at first, thinking it was a prank but after they show what they do, I was convinced to join this weird fraternity: The Kappa Theta Alpha.

I am naked in one of the many guest rooms we have in our Chapter House and on the table is my trial, a potion that will start my journey as a Daughter. Despite being a man, I have always wondered what it’s like to be a woman. Crossdressing with my mother’s clothes have not helped satiate my curiosity, instead it only ignites it and I think Samantha sees it in me, after all, it takes one to know one. Taking the potion, I gulp it at one go and focus a single image of a woman in my mind. My ideal woman. The woman I have perfected in my mind all for the preparation for this day.

The transformation is painful and too slow for my liking. Muscles contract, realign and expand on its own accord, bones snap and resize, fats spontaneously form around my hip and chest area and hairs recede and extend in different parts of my body. The searing pain was so unbearable that I have to scream, my voice distorted and inhumane but I must retain the image in my mind; those supple bosom and derriere, the child-bearing hips, the flowing brown hair and the dulcet tone that she will possess. Finally, I feel it; the transformation bearing the fruits of my imagination. Mounds of flesh molded itself on my chest, forming breast, hips flare as the hip bones expand, hairs extend and turn brown and my penis shrunk, receding into my body, leaving a feminine slit behind.

Pleasure flows through my body as the transformation finalised, I stretch soft body and moaned as run my hands through the hair, my voice had returned, except now it’s feminine and honeyed. Man hearing it, will fall under its spell. Juno will be proud.

Wearing a red leather dress and the 3 inch open-toed heels, reminisce of my first crossdressing experience, I decided to sashay out of the room to greet my ‘sisters’. However, it is not the end. Daughters must not only look feminine but act feminine as well and I intend to show them my months of training.

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.

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.