Jim stares back at the sneering face of Tara Hunter. It’s a look she may as well have patented by now, typically accompanied by a nasty or sarcastic comment. Despite his best efforts, he feels a flash of anger.

“Hello?” She says, waving a hand in front of his face. “I asked you what you were wearing to the party. Was that question too confusing?”

Jim shrugs. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Tara rolls her eyes. “Right. Well, you should pick something actually good, unlike last year. What were you again, some stupid comic book character? It’s amazing they invited you back.” She smirks with a twinkle in her eyes, almost daring him to retaliate.

Jim can feel his face involuntarily flushing. I’m not going to play this game, he thinks.

“Whatever” he replies. “What are you going as, anyway?”

“It’s a surprise. But unlike you, I actually have something picked out.”

“Sure. I bet you do.”

“Hey, no need to get all hostile” she says. “I was about to offer to give you some ideas. You know, so you don’t go home alone for like the thousandth time.”

Jim’s eyes narrow. That was a low blow. He truly detests everything about her. What’s worse is that - if she wasn’t such a stuck-up, unpleasant bitch - he would actually find her attractive. Her high cheekbones, pouty lips and dark, wavy hair had fuelled his imagination on more than one occasion.

He returns her smirk and replies “Yeah, well, I got you back here at my place, didn’t I?”

She rolls her eyes again. “Literally the only reason I’m here is because you begged me to come over. Are you finally going to tell me why?”

Jim frowns. “When did I do that?”

She folds her arms across her chest, causing her breasts to push outwards. “On the phone, duh. What’s the matter with you?” She asks, looking frustrated.

“Hmm…I don’t know if that makes sense, Tara. I mean, I don’t even have your number.”

Tara glares at him again until Jim finally breaks eye contact and starts laughing. “Come on, dude” he says. “You’re going to have to think on your feet better than that at the party if you’re going to fool anyone.”

Surprisingly, Tara starts to chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. In my defence, I didn’t think you were going to interrogate me!”

Jim laughs again. “I wanted to test you! But honestly, besides that, the mask is flawless. I could never tell you’re not really her.”

The girl across from him adopts a very pleased expression. Clearing her throat softly, she says in a deeper, more masculine tone “And how about now? Am I still sexy?”

Jim bursts out laughing again. “Not so much. My advice would be to use her voice when you’re impersonating her.”

Tara nods, appearing to think it over. “Yeah, that makes sense” “she” agrees, in a perfect copy of the real Tara’s voice.

“Well, I think we can call this trial a success, so you can take it off now. It’s kind of creeping me out” Jim states.

Using Tara’s catty tone and facial expressions once more, the imposter retorts “What’s creeping you out? Having an actual woman in your apartment instead of a rubber sex doll?”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha. Very funny. That was one time. And seriously, take the mask off. I’ve had enough of Tara.”

The fake Tara smiles sweetly before reaching her slender hands up to her neck. She feels around for a few moments before stammering “I…I can’t find the seam. Oh my God…I think I’m stuck!”

“Hilarious” Jim replies. “Here, I can yank that thing off for you.” He reaches over towards “her” face.

“She” bats his hand away and mumbles “Fine…”

He watches as the imposter sitting across from him finds a nearly invisible line just beneath her collarbone. Slipping a fingernail underneath the seam, Tara stretches the skin more than should be possible. Jim looks on in amazement as the mask’s features slowly lift and scrunch together before finally pulling away with a noisy, sucking sound.

Tara’s hollow face flops down onto the couch with a thwap, her dark hair cascading over the cushions.

Jim’s best friend Connor picks up the rubbery mask and sets it in his lap, and its empty eye sockets gaze up at the ceiling. “Happy now?” He asks with a smile.

Jim stifles a laugh. His friend’s face sits atop a feminine body, wearing a low-cut midriff tank top and leggings. If the clothes weren’t just part of the disguise, he would have a field day of ridicule. He’d watched his friend tug on the upper half of the full-body, skin-coloured “suit” earlier in the afternoon, but he was still amazed at how it had completely transformed him. He recalls how hard Connor had cinched the built-in straps, wincing as it produced an hourglass figure.

“I can’t decide if you taking the mask off made this better, or worse!” Jim heckles.

Connor grins back at him. “Either way, I’m fine with it. This is going to be legendary.”

Jim nods in agreement. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you could pull it off. I had pictured you behind some stiff plastic replica of Tara’s face. But this…is incredible.”

His friend’s smile widens. “No way. Three years in the special effects program has gotten me much more than that. Come here, give Tara a kiss.”

Connor grips the mask by its hair and pushes it towards him. Jim can feel its soft, floppy lips graze his cheek before he pushes it away. “Ugh” he grunts, pushing the fleshy material away from his face. “So weird.”

Connor adopts a purposefully creepy expression, just to mess with his friend. He starts stroking Tara’s long, wavy mane in an exaggerated, sinister manner, as her mouth and eyes gape widely. “She’s going to be perfect for the costume contest, Jim. Just…perfect…”

Jim breaks out laughing again, swatting the mask away. “I’m sure she will be, freak!”

When his laughter subsides he says “I still can’t believe you made such a detailed replica of her.”

His friend smiles proudly. “It’s not just the mask and suit” he remarks, gesturing to the copy of Tara’s sensual body. “I even found out what brands of hair products and makeup she uses.”

Jim’s eyes widen. Now that Connor mentions it, Tara’s face does seem impeccably put together. “Really? You did that much research on her?” He questions.

Connor nods. “Uh huh. I’m going for maximum confusion and chaos. The clothes I’m wearing right now are the exact same ones she owns, and I even copied her dumb tattoo.”

He lifts the bottom of the tank top, exposing a small butterfly marking just below his fake, swollen chest.

“Damn” Jim says. “How did you find all of that out?”

Smiling, Connor tosses the mask back down onto the couch, face down. “That’s my little secret” he smirks.

Jim rolls his eyes and changes the subject. “So, what’s your idea for a costume? You’re not just going to go as ‘Tara’ in a pair of leggings, are you?”

Connor grins mischievously. “No way” he replies. “I’ve got a plan for that. But I think I’ll leave it a surprise.”

Jim holds his hands up. “Come on, dude! I’m in this with you now. I have to know!”

Connor ponders for a few moments before acquiescing. “Alright…I suppose I could also use your feedback on the costume. And I actually did bring it with me. Can you hand me my bag?”

Jim reaches his arm around his chair, finding the duffel bag his friend had brought with him. He hands it over and Connor says with a smirk “Be right back!”

Connor walks towards his bathroom, and Jim rolls his eyes at the sight of his friend swaying Tara’s hips sensually.

Jim hears the sound of rustling fabric from the other side of the bathroom door, and minutes go by. Finally, the door opens and Connor walks back into the room, with a big grin on his face.

Once again, Jim finds himself laughing uncontrollably at the sight in front of him. Connor has dressed Tara’s voluptuous body up in what looks to be an elaborate, trampy kitten costume.

A silky black bustier, mostly covered in soft black fur, pushes up Tara’s ample chest and accentuates her narrow waist and wide hips. The garment ends in a short, ruffled skirt, showing off toned legs covered in black sheer stockings that have more than a few rips and tears. Turning to the side, Connor smirks as he shows off a curled tail that waves back and forth with his movement. He’d even donned a pair of velvety gloves, with paws covering the suit’s slender fingers.

“Wow, dude” Jim says in between bouts of laughter. “You really went all-out with this one. I don’t think the real Tara would be caught dead wearing that.”

Connor smiles widely back at him. “That’s the point! I do feel kind of ridiculous wearing it myself, but after all, it’s not me, right?”

“Fair enough, but she’s going to kill you when she sees you.”

“Well, maybe she doesn’t even end up going. And even if she does see me, she still won’t know who’s really inside this Tara” he says, rotating his hips and smirking wickedly. “Speaking of which, can you toss me the mask?”

Jim nods, excited to witness Connor don the final piece of the disguise. He lifts it from the couch, taking a moment to inspect it. The craftsmanship is obvious, Connor must have spent many painstaking hours manually painting and brushing each individual feature. The dark mane rooted in the top of the mask even feels just like real human hair.

As Jim continues his scrutiny, Connor slips off the kitten gloves in preparation.

Finally, Jim carefully tosses his friend the mask. Smiling, Connor slips his hands inside the neck, stretching the material open wide.

He pulls it down over his head, fingers slipping out gradually as the mask’s face settles against his own. Jim looks on, mesmerized, as Tara’s pouty lips slide over Connor’s, her empty chin snapping softly into place. In just moments, the transformation is nearly complete, as Connor uses Tara’s fingers to make small, final adjustments to the fit.

With another small wink, the Tara imposter wordlessly grabs a small bottle of concealer and heads back into the bathroom. Jim imagines Connor running the makeup over the mask’s seam to hide it completely.

After a minute, “she” returns to the room, the familiar scowl back on her face. “So, what do you think? Pretty great, right? You should consider yourself lucky to be getting a sneak preview” she brags.

Playing along, Jim replies “Oh yeah, I think your costume will be a big hit at the party. You’ll probably even win the contest.”

With a satisfied but still superior look on her face, the fake Tara merely mutters “Mmhmm.”

She then grabs an item from the bag and sets it on top of her head. Two fuzzy, pointy cat ears jut out from her hair. She picks up another item from the bag and wraps it around her neck, securing it at the back. It’s a black leather choker with the words Slutty Pussy embroidered on it.

Finally, she picks up the discarded gloves and slips them back over her lightly tanned hands, where they run up almost to the elbow.

Tara places her new paws on her hips and thrusts her chest forward, striking a pose. “There” she says impatiently “I still don’t know why I let you persuade me to try this on. You probably just wanted to see me dressed up so you can jerk off to it later, right?” A taunting smirk crosses her face.

Jim rolls his eyes. Not entirely untrue, he thinks to himself.

“You seem pretty happy to show it off” he retorts. “Spin around for me, I want to see the back.”

It’s Tara’s turn to roll her eyes, but she obeys. She turns her back to him, wiggling her hips to make the costume’s tail move back and forth. She even lifts the skirt a bit, exposing her panty-clad ass teasingly. That move causes Jim’s heart to beat just a little faster, despite knowing it’s his best friend underneath the perfect replica of Tara’s sensual body.

“I never did get a good look at the front of that suit when you were putting it on. Is it…also realistic?” Jim asks curiously.

The imposter turns back around, crossing “her” arms across her chest and frowning. “What are you talking about? This is the front of my costume” she replies, gesturing to the furry fabric.

“Oh, come on dude. You know what I mean.”

The fake Tara smiles. “Stop making me break character! I need to practice.” She says giddily.

Jim smiles. “So…?”

Connor smiles mischievously with his prosthetic Tara face. “Well…if anyone asks, absolutely not. And that’s partially true. I didn’t have the time or energy to make things look passable…downstairs. Up here on the other hand…”

Maintaining the wicked look on her face, she reaches her gloved hands down to the plunging neckline of the costume and takes hold of the fabric. Tugging down, Jim’s eyes widen as a pair of large, perky breasts spring free.

“Like what you see?” The fake Tara asks seductively, bouncing lightly on her feet, causing her naked chest to jiggle with the same rhythm.

Jim stammers for a moment, causing the imposter to laugh. “I’ll admit, these are probably not 100% accurate. It’s not like the real Tara has any topless photos floating around. But she did have some bikini pics, so I did my best.”

Finding his voice, Jim replies “Yeah, I’d say so. Well, if Tara wasn’t already going to kill you for stealing her identity, she definitely would now.”

With some effort, Tara pulls up the costume, squeezing her chest back into the tight fabric. “Like I said, that will remain a secret between you and I. No one else needs to know I could also successfully impersonate her at a topless beach.”

Jim nods. “Yeah, agreed. Man, it is so weird to know that it’s you in there.”

The imposter grins. Then, she pinches her cheeks and pulls, distorting Tara’s face grotesquely. Moving her hips back and forth, and mocks “I’m Tawa, and I’m a shlutty pushy”. Her words are muffled and distorted by the stretched-out mask.

Jim laughs loudly, and the fake Tara eases her pretty face back into position.

Then, the “resting bitch face” look quickly returns. “So, what time are you planning on getting to the party, anyway?” She asks, with apparent indifference.

Oh good, she’s back, Jim thinks to himself sarcastically.

“I don’t know, like 8:30 or 9:00?” He replies.

“What do you know?” She retorts.

Jim spends the next five minutes in an unpleasant conversation with the imposter. He can only assume Connor is using the time to practice, but that doesn’t make it any more fun than talking to the real Tara.

Finally, Tara says “Well, I need to get changed before I go, and I’m obviously not doing that in front of you. Can you hand me my bag?”

Jim obliges.

“And I’m serious, you’d better not tell anyone about this costume or I’ll make your life a living hell” she threatens, pointing one of her gloved hands at him.

Jim holds up his hands in a sign of submittal, causing Tara to smile widely.

“Okay, how was that?” She asks excitedly.

Jim snorts. “Yeah, you’ve mastered her personality. No one is going to suspect anything.”

“Excellent! I do need to get out of this thing though; I can’t leave here in it…”

He looks on as the fake Tara takes off her costume, starting with the gloves and cat ears, then moving to the tights. Finally, the disguised Connor reaches around his back and pulls down the bustier’s metal zipper before immodestly lifting the form-fitting garment up and over his head.

Jim’s eyes open wide again at the sight of a topless Tara Hunter standing in front of him wearing only a pair of black, lacy panties.

She smirks at him knowingly and reaches her hand out, her breasts jutting towards him “Let me see your phone” she commands.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Jim hands over the device. The half-nude Tara grabs her bag and struts back towards the bathroom. She calls over her shoulder “Time to take her off. I’m naked underneath, so you’ll understand if I do it in here” she says with a final wink.

The door closes, and after a minute Jim can hear a muffled, female voice. It stops before too long, and then all he hears is some rustling and light suction-sounding noises.

Finally, the door opens and Connor steps out holding his bag. He walks back over to the couch, and Jim can see Tara’s empty, crumpled face staring up at him from the bag, among a mass of dark hair. Disturbingly, he also notices a deflated, feminine hand hanging out of the open top.

Connor quickly tucks the hand inside and zips the bag closed, then gives Jim his phone. “Left you a present on there” he says with a grin. “I gotta go. See you tonight!”

Jim watches his friend leave, then checks his phone and finds a new saved video.

Tara appears on the screen, still naked from the waist up, with her breasts on full display. She has a sensual look on her face as she moans “Jim, I have such a crush on you. I think about you alllll the time.”

The imposter rubs her breasts seductively, proceeding to give an exaggerated, brief performance before abruptly ending the video with a wink.

“This will come in handy” Jim murmurs to himself.

FIVE HOURS LATER

Jim shows up at the party at 8:30. He’d chosen to go with a “secret agent” costume consisting of a black suit and tie, as well as some other toy gadgets he’d bought online like a “laser watch” and a plastic pistol.

He grabs a beer and wanders around for a bit, stopping to chat with some friends in the corner. Loud DJ music fills the house, and people start to form a dance floor in the large living room.

Finally, he spots her strutting by the high-top table being used as a bar. Tara Hunter, or at least it appeared to be, was wearing the familiar slutty kitten costume and drawing more than a few startled looks from partygoers. Only Jim knew it was really Connor underneath the incredibly realistic mask and suit.

Jim can’t help himself, and his drink is also empty, so he makes his way over to the table. He pulls up next to the imposter and, playing along, says “Hey, Tara. Nice costume.”

She looks at him with an annoyed expression. “Thanks.”

She looks him over, frowning. “What are you supposed to be? A funeral director?”

Jim grins. He really is good. I can even smell Tara’s perfume.

“No, I’m a secret agent. Nice to hear that charming attitude though.”

She just rolls her eyes and accepts a pink-coloured beverage from the guy behind the table. “Whatever” she replies.

Suddenly, a young woman appears next to Tara. Jim recognizes her as Stephanie Manning, one member of Tara’s exclusive circle of friends. She has her blonde hair done up in a pigtails, with one end dyed red and the other blue. Jim checks out the rest of her costume, an obvious interpretation of Harley Quinn.

“Oh my God, Tara. What are you wearing?!” Stephanie asks, with a shocked expression.

Tara just shrugs and smirks confidently. “I was tired of seeing all these boring costumes every year. What, you don’t like it?”

“Uh…no…I mean, it looks good on you” Stephanie stammers, clearly not wanting to insult the more popular and vindictive Tara.

“That’s what I thought” the imposter says. “Come on, let’s go dance.”

The fake Tara grabs Stephanie’s hand and the two of them make their way to the dance floor. Jim grins, overhearing people comment on Tara’s costume choice.

“What the hell is she thinking? She looks ridiculous.”

“Does her necklace say ‘Slutty Pussy’…?”

“Make sure you get some pics.”

It feels like all eyes are on the disguised Connor as he sways Tara’s scantily clad body among the crowd. After grinding her barely-covered ass against a random wide-eyed guy, the fake Tara hands him her empty cup and he quickly scampers off to get her a refill.

Jim looks around the rest of the house. Maybe the real Tara really isn’t going to show. That would work out nicely for Connor.

Tara’s other friends, Tiffany and Ashley, join them on the dance floor. But Tara remains the centre of attention, gyrating her body for everyone to see.

After another song, the fake Tara leaves her group and saunters over to the bar. Jim notices more than a few guys staring at the jiggling ass sitting just below the costume’s waving tail.

“Done dancing?” Jim asks her playfully, standing next to his other friends Henry and Adam. They look on curiously, unsure why Jim is striking up a conversation with the unpleasant woman in the slutty kitten costume.

She just rolls her eyes, ignoring him. “Four shots of tequila” she instructs the wide-eyed guy behind the table, who quickly obeys.

Jim looks back out onto the dance floor and feels his heart skip a beat when he sees Tara joining her group of friends. The real Tara. Wearing what looks like an 80s-style workout costume complete with bright leggings and a side ponytail. Nearly the polar opposite of the slutty kitten costume her imposter was wearing.

He speaks out of the corner of his mouth at the disguised Connor. “Uh oh…we have trouble. Tara’s here, and I think she sees you.”

Sure enough, Jim sees Stephanie point over to the bar and the real Tara’s eyes widen in confusion, then anger. She starts walking quickly across the room towards them.

Instead of looking worried, the fake Tara next to him only looks at him with another annoyed expression. “Um, what are you talking about?”

Jim steps back, anticipating the confrontation about to occur.

The real Tara reaches the bar and places her hand on her imposter’s shoulder, spinning her around. The fake Tara reacts angrily.

“What the fuck!” She swears, somehow managing to hang on to the shot of liquor in her hand despite the sudden motion, and the padded glove she’s wearing.

The two twins stare at each other in fury for a long moment before the 80s-themed Tara exclaims “Who the fuck are you?! How do you look like me, and what are you wearing?!”

The slutty kitten version of Tara responds with an identical level of ferocity. “Who the fuck are you?! And you’re one to talk about my costume, yours looks fucking stupid.” She scoffs.

The real Tara stands speechless for a few seconds, mouth wide in shock and anger. Several people standing around have taken note of the show going on next to them, and look on with curious, entertained expressions.

Finally Tara composes herself and pokes her finger out into her doppelgänger’s chest. “How…do…you…look…like…me” she seethes, accentuating each word with a hard jab.

The fake Tara just sneers back at her. “I could ask you the same question. I didn’t realize they sold costumes that look like me, but I guess I’m not surprised. Everyone else here looks totally lame” she says, downing the shot of tequila in her hand.

Noticing the choker, the real Tara leans forward. “SLUTTY PUSSY?!” She explodes, reaching for it.

The fake Tara steps back, too fast for her twin to reach her. “Hey! Don’t you dare touch me, bitch!”

The onlookers appear completely baffled, unsure who to believe. Though it does appear that some of them have sided with the version of Tara not wearing a demeaning and revealing costume.

The two women go back and forth a few more times, apparently just on the edge of actually fighting.

At one point, “slutty kitten Tara” jabs her own finger into “80s Tara” and snarls “What, are you some ugly bitch whose boyfriend wants to fuck me, so you decide to wear my face to the party?” She lifts up the bottom of her skirt, exposing her barely-covered ass while winking seductively at one of the guys at the bar.

Then, Jim’s friend Henry, already drunk, slurs a little too loudly “Oh man, I bet it’s really Connor. You know he’s a special effects genius, right? I bet he disguised himself as Tara. That’s awesome.”

Both versions of Tara pause their argument and look at him. The Tara wearing the leggings and windbreaker looks at her twin with an expression of shock, but sudden understanding. The Tara wearing the kitten ears and tattered tights glares at Henry with a look of pure fury.

After a moment, the fake Tara’s face breaks into a wicked smirk. Quickly, she reaches for another shot of tequila and throws it back before pushing herself away from the bar. Jim watches her turn and start to run away from the group.

Looking over her shoulder as she sprints for the door, she calls out, cackling “Remember me when you vote on the best costume!”

The real Tara tries to chase her, but the imposter is too fast and there are too many people in the way. “That fucking creep!” She screams out, exasperated.

She turns to Jim and thrusts her finger into his face. “Did YOU know about this?!”

Jim adopts an innocent, surprised expression. “No way! Connor’s my friend, but we don’t even know that was him!”

She rolls her eyes. “Right, sure. Who else could it be?!”

Jim just shrugs, enraging her further.

She starts muttering to her friends about getting revenge, and Jim takes the opportunity to slip quietly away. Those watching the drama start to talk amongst themselves, and the party quickly resumes as if nothing had happened.

ONE HOUR LATER

Jim has to admit to himself, it’s been a pretty fun party. There was no sign of Connor after his impressive stunt, but he figured his friend had gone somewhere to take off the Tara mask and the rest of the costume.

He finds himself standing alone outside the bathroom, waiting for the person inside to finish up. Tara’s friend Stephanie appears next to him, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms when she sees there’s a line.

“That was pretty messed up what Connor did to Tara” she scowls, eyeing him aggressively. “Who even does that?”

Again, Jim just shrugs. Out of the corner of his eye, he sneaks a peek at “Harley Quinn’s” cleavage, her breasts straining against the thin white fabric of her trademark outfit.

Stephanie takes a compact mirror out of her purse and starts to touch up her makeup. “Seriously” she continues “he must be a real freak to wear a mask like that. He’s probably obsessed with Tara or something.”

“Like I said, we don’t even know it was him” Jim replies.

“Uh huh.”

Jim notices her apply some foundation, then watches as she lifts a dark brush to her eyelashes. But instead of applying the eyeliner, she uses her finger to rub the edge of her eye. Jim assumes she’s trying to remove a clump of something, until she pinches her skin between two fingers.

He looks on in shock as she pulls at her face, stretching it unnaturally, revealing skin underneath that’s tanner than “Harley’s” pale, heavily made-up face.

Jim’s mouth falls open at the sudden revelation.

“Connor…?” He whispers quietly. He focuses intently, re-examining “Stephanie’s” face with the new knowledge that it’s just another one of his friend’s lifelike masks.

“Shhh!” the imposter whispers back, still using Stephanie’s voice. “I paid some football jock to take the real Stephanie to another party. This is part two of the prank” she explains, with a wicked grin.

Abruptly, Tara comes around the corner. “Stephanie” quickly releases her skin and it snaps perfectly and inconspicuously back into place.

“Steph, are you coming? We’re going to another party. This one sucks.” The 80s-workout Tara states.

Stephanie drops her makeup back into her purse. “Uh huh. Let’s go.” She agrees, nodding her head, causing her coloured pigtails to bounce.

“Later, loser. Enjoy the party” she smirks, addressing Jim.

When Tara turns her back again, the woman dressed as Harley Quinn gives Jim a mischievous and playful wink.

Stunned speechless, Jim watches as the imposter follows the unsuspecting Tara out the door.