“Listen, Imogen, sweetie, we get it. We really do.”
A sweet, short, silver-haired woman spoke gently to her daughter, both seated on opposite ends of the dining room table.
“But, being a young lady like yourself, well…” Her mother continued. “We were hoping -”
“We were hoping that - you know - after living with us again for nearly six months now, you would be able to live on your own again.” Imogen’s father, seated beside her mother, assertively finished the statement. He took a short second before continuing. “We know what Albert meant to you. High school sweethearts, married after graduating from college, living together for five years. I - we know it must hurt a lot still. I don’t know what I’d do if your mother cheated on me, but I totally understood and supported your decision to divorce him and move out - still do, even. Just, we think it’s time you start looking for somewhere else to live.”
“Yes,” her mother spoke up again, “a twenty-eight year-old girl such as yourself should be out and having fun, living her life, and just being independent and on her own! Not tied to her parents and only living for work.”
“I know, I know.” Imogen finally spoke up. “It’s just really hard. Like, c’mon. Living on my own? In this economy?” She tried to chuckle at her attempted joke. “Seriously though. As I’m sure you know, the housing market is awful now - especially for young people like myself. I have been looking, and I just can’t find anything. My few friends already have enough roommates as things are, too, so they haven’t been any help. I don’t know what to do. I get you want me to be self-sufficient, but please. Can’t you help at all? Mom, you used to be a real estate agent. Surely you have connections still, right?”
Imogen’s mother took a second to gather her thoughts, then hesitantly opened her mouth. “Well… yes. I still talk to some of my old coworkers. And, I don’t know. There’s definitely a location they’ve been chatting about that’s easily within your price range - it’s in a fairly good part of town, too. Right on the edge between downtown and one of the nicer suburbs. It’s just… they’ve been chatting about it for a reason. We don’t know the agency that owns the land all that well, and honestly, it’s a bit of a fixer-upper. Cramped, too. I just don’t think it’s right for you.”
Imogen’s eyes lit up. “Mom, please put me in contact with them. I need to get out of this house. Even if it’s terrible, I just need somewhere to stay for a little while. To get me back on my feet - since you guys are growing tired of me doing that here. I’ll take anything.”
Her parents sighed, and looked at each other in doubt. “Are you sure?” they said in unison.
-
“My phone says I should turn on Organizo Street… where? Ah! Here it is.”
A couple days later - faster than she had honestly expected - Imogen found herself parked in a rather nice neighborhood in the west part of the city. Nice - except for the house she was going to look at. The house itself actually didn’t seem to be that bad from the outside. It was ugly, sure. It was squarish, and had a dull, grey concrete-like exterior to it. But it seemed to be in good condition - or at least, the windows weren’t broken. Also it was overgrown as hell. Clearly the landlord hadn’t been paying any landscapers. Still. This might not be too bad, she figured.
Stomping her way through the various weeds and other types of small brush that adorned the front yard, she spotted a tall, attractive, vaguely-tanned lady in a black pantsuit and sunglasses off to the side of the house, texting on her phone.
“That’s gotta be her, right?” Imogen thought to herself. “Hello!” she called out to the lady. “Are you Ms. Posedanto, by any chance?”
The lady in black jumped a little, shuffled her cell phone into her pocket, and called back: “Yes! Are you Imogen Juneau?”
A brief nod affirmed the question.
“Good!” Ms. Posedanto beat her way through the bushes and shook Imogen’s hand. “ Your mother’s been speaking to me about you - she’s a real sweet lady. I’m surprised we’ve never met before, considering how long she worked in this city. Although, I am still pretty new to all this - not that I should be telling you that, of course - but maybe that’s why. Who knows? … Anyway, I’ll be the one taking you on a tour of this house. It shouldn’t take too long - only a half an hour at most, it’s quite small - and along the way we can discuss anything you have questions about, okay? Financial information, utilities, pet rules if you’re so interested, all that stuff.”
“Of course, of course. Sounds good.” Imogen replied. “Lead the way, Miss Posedanto.” She gestured forward.
“Please, call me… Lindsay.” An odd chuckle came from her lips.
-
“Oh, would you look at that?” Lindsay said, taking a look at her watch as the two women stepped back out of the front door - finishing up their tour of the property. “Exactly half an hour. We made good time. … So, any thoughts, questions, et cetera, Imogen?”
“Yeah…” the young brunette responded. “Honestly, it was pretty nice. I like the floorplan, the bedroom and entertainment room are nice, and while it’s clear there’s a good bit of fixing up to do here and there, I’m really surprised that something like this falls into my budget. Also, it was reassuring when you showed me the inspector’s report that said that the place was fine, and only needed a few updates to some of the appliances. It’s better than I expected, at least. That said, umm, the basement. Like, is that all there is? It seems quite cramped compared to the rest of the house. I’d think it’d be at least twice that big just from seeing the rest of the place.”
“Oh… that. … Ummm.” The realtor took her time. “Yeah, so, when they were originally building this house, they planned on making the basement larger, but they found out too late that there were some foundational issues and had to scrap a lot of the floorplan - so a sizeable amount of the walls down there are load-bearing. If you do end up moving in, please don’t mess with it, okay?”
“Alright. That’s umm. Kinda odd, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I suppose it’s a little weird. Honestly, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, the whole house is weird. Like I said during the tour, the previous owners of the house rented it out as cheap boarding for airplane pilots to stay overnight since it’s so close to the airport, and I guess they just never really bothered to hire any landscapers or maintenance workers unless they absolutely had to. Makes it kind of a mess for us, but hey, it makes it more affordable to someone like you - not that I mean anything negative by that.”
Imogen raised her eyebrow in response.
“I ehh… I’ll try not to look too deep into that statement,” Miss Juneau said, trying not to derail the conversation. “But yeah, I’m decently interested in renting the place out. I’ll talk it over with my parents some - although I think they’ll take anything to get me out of the house - and I’ll keep in contact with you. Like, I’ll let you know in a day or so if I want to move in, okay?”
Lindsay perked up. “Of course! To be honest, this lot hasn’t been getting a whole lot of interest or attention, so feel free to take some time and deliberate over the decision. Not forever of course, but no rush either.”
“Of course, of course.” Imogen let out an exaggerated exhale. “Well, I think I best get going, if that’s all there is for now.”
“Understandable. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Take care!”
-
Imogen’s parents - as she’d expected - were more than eager to get her out of their house, especially after her report that the house she’d looked at, while messy and needing a little bit of fixing and a lot of yard maintenance, was actually decently inhabitable. She was surprised to find them changing their tune about the house so quickly, but it was reassuring to have them tell her that moving there seemed to be a good idea. Shortly after their discussion, she texted Ms. Posedanto to let her know that she would like to move in, and the process moved quite quickly from there. Within the better part of a week, Imogen had the go-ahead to move in, and soon she eagerly began the process.
-
“Well, I think that’s the last box unloaded, sweetie.” Mrs. Juneau huffed through labored breath. “Are you sure you don’t want our help unpacking everything into your new home? Or at least, oh, I don’t know, our help hiring a landscaper or some maintenance workers?”
“No, mom.” Her daughter sighed. “It’s very kind of you to offer, but you’ve already done so much for me these past few months by letting me stay with you and dad. And anyway, I’m trying to be my own woman again! I’m independent and free, and I can take care of things on my own, okay? I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” She looked down at her phone to check the time. “Plus, isn’t it nearly time for you and dad to get ready for your dinner at the Nilsens’ anyway?”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to make Rob wait for us this time.” Mr. Juneau eagerly jumped in. “He could barely contain his fury when we were running fifteen minutes late last time, and he is not a man I want to make angry.” He chuckled with fear. “Please, dear. Our girl will be fine. Let’s go. We need to return this moving truck still, too.”
Imogen’s parents took their leave and clambered up into the truck. She watched them drive away, before turning around and locking the door behind her. With them out of her way for now - although their help was greatly appreciated - she could begin tidying up and making this odd little house into her new little home. Of course, she called a landscaper and at least a few maintenance workers, too.
-
With how small it was, Imogen decided to begin with the basement. She needed a room for the work she would do from home, and she thought it would make for a cozy little office. However, transporting the boxes for her office supplies downstairs proved to be a tricky endeavor, and…
“Oh, no no no no no! Fuuuuuuuuck!”
While carrying a rather large box down the stairs, she fell. Through the wall. Thankfully, she was on the last step, so it only hurt a fair bit instead of something far worse, but she was surprised to find how easily the wall by the stairwell had given way. … In fact, looking around, it was clear that the wall was hastily put up and was barely more than a single sheet of drywall that had been painted over. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the basement seemed to be at least twice as large as it had initially appeared to be prior.
“What the… why? Was this done hastily?” Imogen muttered, confused. “Ms. Posedanto surely knew of this, or at least her firm did. I wonder why she lied about it?”
She pressed forward into the newfound space. It was rather roomy - only filled with a set of dusty benches - but eerily enough the back wall had a series of cabinet-like doors - or perhaps they were lockers - she didn’t know - along the entirety of it. Her curiosity piqued, she decided to open one.
She was initially disappointed to find that it appeared to just be a normal closet, with some long garments in various shades of brown and beige on hangers. Disappointed until she looked a little closer, at least:
“Aaaaaah! What the hell?”
The one she’d chosen to inspect further - thinking it was some kind of romper or an odd set of pajamas - appeared to have a penis. In fact, it did. She took it off the hanging rack and turned it around in her hands a bit. It was an odd kind of object, for sure. While she was no expert on whatever these things were, it was unmistakably a very accurate replica of a toned male body - although there was no head, it just terminated above the neck. An open slit along the back marked the way in, although she was unsure of how it would stay shut.
While Imogen was overtaken by a general feeling of disgust by seeing such a garment - especially one of a naked person of the other sex - and an even stronger feeling that she definitely should not be here or seeing this, an odd feeling of intrigue struck her that just barely overpowered the feelings that this was wrong.
She started to put the suit on.
The inside was cold and clammy - certainly nothing like actual human skin - and it stuck a little to her flesh. The obvious way to enter was through the back slit, legs first, so she stripped out of her clothes - blouse, jeans, bra, panties, socks - took a seat on one of the dusty benches, and tried to wiggle a foot in. It was certainly a process, and the dry stickiness made it far more difficult than she’d imagined a minute or two earlier. She considered giving up then, and just abandoning the process - she really wasn’t supposed to be here, anyway - but no, the intrigue was just too strong. The fake hairy legs of the male suit accommodated hers quite well, and she wondered if perhaps the suit was built for a female wearer. As she stood up to wiggle her upper thighs into the suit, she was startled by a voice from behind:
“Oh. Well. This isn’t any good. Still. I might as well make the most of this. I’m sure they won’t mind.”
Imogen whipped around to find Lindsay Posedanto standing right behind her. Yet, before she could utter a word, the realtor planted a surprisingly passionate kiss on her lips, leaving the young lady in a daze.
“I was just stopping by to see how you were getting on in your new home, but well, I see you’re trying to put on a male suit without even a strap,” Ms. Posedanto chided her. “Adventurous, I’ll give you that, but that just simply won’t do. Let me get you something to help with that.”
Now terrified, but also frozen by mystery, Imogen watched as her realtor walked over to a different locker and pulled out a double-sided strap-on, then winked.
“Stand up.” The older woman ordered as she strutted back, lubing up the strap’s internal plug.
Imogen followed orders, letting the male suit drape over her newly hairy legs as she stood. Ms. Posedanto knelt and spread the younger lady’s labia, smoothly sliding the slick internal portion of the strap on into her vagina - eliciting a gasp. The landlady then pulled the straps over her subject’s hips and secured the rest of it in place.
“There. Although, you’ll still need a binder of some sort. I’ll get you one. Keep putting it on, while you wait.”
Imogen nodded in acknowledgement, and inserted her strap on into the suit’s facsimile of male genitalia. It sure looked real, even if she couldn’t really feel it when she stroked it. She then worked it up her thin waist, watching as it filled out to a more standard male proportion. As she worked her skinny, near-hairless arms into the more muscular (at least in appearance) arms of the suit, Ms. Posedanto returned with a black sports bra-like binder. While Miss Juneau was far from gifted in the chest, it still was rather difficult to get the binder secured over her chest. Yet, with it finally in place, she worked the imitation male chest over her own. The suit was on, minus the slit in the back. She felt Lindsay do something behind her, and the suit tightened, sealing her inside.
Ms. Posedanto licked her lips sensually. “Good. From the neck down, you’re a decently attractive man. Now, if you don’t mind, I haven’t had any good dick in a while, and well, you haven’t given any complaints to me so far.”
Imogen was surprised to hear the lust in her realtor’s voice, and yet, while she’d never considered being attracted to women before, she found that, perhaps - in this moment, watching the other woman in the room strip - she might be at least a little bi.
“No complaints from me, go ahead.” Imogen was surprised to hear herself utter. “But, who are you, really? And what actually was this place for?”
“Humor me a little longer, and oh, I don’t know, I might just tell you.”
Hardly the answer Imogen wanted, but she was already too far in to easily get out. Besides, she was surprised at how attractive Ms. Posedanto was underneath her standard work attire. She had a slim, yet muscular build, seeming to indicate that she was a woman that took fitness at least somewhat seriously. Something seemed slightly artificial about her, and Imogen had a nagging suspicion this wasn’t her real self, but she found it hard to care in the moment. Imogen looked her up and down, lingering on her abundant hips and chest - she couldn’t tell where the lust ended and the envy began - and blushed. While she was fairly sure the suit wasn’t doing anything to her mind, she felt herself slipping into a more male state of mind, and damn, he wanted to try out his new form. Thankfully, he found himself waiting little, as Ms. Posedanto quickly took control of the situation and laid her subject down on the bench to take him for a ride.
“I’m as eager as you to begin, it seems,” the dominant woman said, “but we’re not quite ready yet, unfortunately.”
She gestured to a bald male mask in her hand that she must’ve procured while Imogen was ogling her body, clearly of the same mystery material as the body suit. She tilted her head to the side, raised an eyebrow, and gave an inquisitive nod. The person below her nodded in return, albeit shakily. With a devilish smile, she gathered Imogen’s long hair and secured it with a hair cap that was inside the mask. The mask seemed to open in the back too, just as the suit had, and was easily worked on. It contained small tubes in the nose that Imogen found a little uncomfortable for a second or two, but overall, it was effortless for the one wearing it.
Ms. Posedanto looked over the man beneath her with a calculating coldness before speaking: “We have wigs for male suits, but well, I don’t have the patience for that right now. And, I think this face is quite a charmer without it anyway.” She held a finger to her chin. “Now, how about we start?”
She pulled him into another deep kiss with her left hand above as her right hand spread herself below, sliding gently onto the artificial phallus. She began to buck her hips, and it was clear that she had a good amount of expertise in this area - even though he couldn’t feel his penis, the strap-on inside him was still quite stimulating to his internal vaginal walls and clit. The duo both began to give out soft moans as she ramped up her speed and intensity, although, something seemed off to Imogen.
“Your voice seems deeper, yeah?” Ms. Posedanto teased. “I turned on a voice changer in the mask when I kissed you. Just to enhance the realism. It’s not perfect. You’d need training to perfectly sound like a man, but still, it helps.”
She continued to ride the newly-made man, kissing him deeply and toying with his nipples, trying to stimulate the breasts of the real woman underneath. From the sounds of his moans, it seemed to be working, and he noticeably was getting worked into a horny frenzy. Only a couple of minutes into her ride, he took control. In a surprise motion, he forced her onto her back, stood up, and began pumping in and out of her.
“Oh, an eager one!” Ms. Posedanto let out as he turned her over onto her stomach.
“I just thought it was time for me to put in some effort,” he responded.
He found himself growing ever hornier, watching the shapely figure of his realtor bounce on his cock, and it soon grew too much to bear. His knees buckled as he came, and he let out a surprisingly primal grunt.
“Good man! Good man! Bravo!” The landlady applauded him as his attention returned. “That was a wonderful little fuck, I’d say.” She tapped him on the nose with a finger. “I’d love to stay longer, but well, I have other things to take care of, as you can imagine. Feel free to help yourself to anything else in here though - you almost certainly won’t have them for much longer.” She put a finger to her chin in mock thought. “Although perhaps I’ll put in a request to keep this between us… if you want me to ever help you out any further, I’d be glad to oblige.”
She got up and began to quickly slip back into her work attire.
“So, who actually are you?” Imogen asked in his husky voice. “And what is all this?”
“Hmm. Wouldn’t you like to know?” She chuckled darkly. “… Maybe sometime you’ll find out.”
“You said you’d tell me!”
“Did I really, though?” She began to depart. “Oh, yes. While you have that on, perhaps you might want to try layering another suit over it? I’d certainly recommend it. It’s quite fun. Try to see if you can get a girl’s skin looking natural over that new male body of yours. Of course, you can just take it off if you’re not feeling adventurous. ‘Twould be kind of lame, though.”
And with that bizarre final statement, she was off, leaving Imogen to process what had just happened to him, and what he was going to do next with all of this.
-
“What the hell, man!” An angered male voice yelled through the phone. “You can’t just fuck my ex-wife!”
“Just did, Al.” Lindsay Posedanto smugly spoke into her phone, with a significantly deeper voice than earlier. “You should’ve taken the job if you didn’t want the possibility of me doing that.”
“I didn’t think she was going to fuck her real estate agent!” Albert said furiously. “Who does that?! Hell, why did you even think it was okay to rent that house to the ex-wife of an Organization agent?! I didn’t even know there was a possibility of her moving into that abandoned stationing unit until earlier today! And why were there still disguise suits there?! Weren’t you supposed to take them out before renting the place?!”
“It’s okay, seriously, listen, it’s fine…”
“No! It’s not fine. I’m absolutely writing a complaint to our internal security department. As federal agents, we’re supposed to conduct ourselves better than that.”
“Fine! I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It better not, or you’ll be in even more trouble…”