TF (invisibility)

“Good evening, Extravagant Escorts.”

“I wonder if you can help me. I’m in town for a couple of days and I’m looking for something a bit … special.”

“Yes, sir. We have many ladies who have a wide variety of skills that …”

“Actually, I understand you have escorts who specialise in transformations.”

“Well, yes, sir. We have catgirls, goo girls, a shrinker …”

“I’m looking for … well … an invisible woman.”

“Ah! Yes, you’re looking for Iris. You’re in luck, she’s available. Would you like her to be invisible when she arrives or to transform after?”

“After, thank you. I’m staying at the Hilton, suite 774. And I’d like her for the night.”

“Of course.”

*

Paul had removed his tie and was on his second scotch when a knock came at the door. Opening it, he found a short honey-blonde woman in a long coat and heels. She was cute rather than beautiful, with the kind of bangs he found irresistible.

“Hello! I’m Iris,” she smiled.

“Please, come in.” Paul closed the door, then turned to watch Iris shrug off the coat. Under it she wore a short - but not too short - skirt and a silk blouse. Black stockings clad her legs. She looked elegant, not like he’d been expecting at all. Still, she carried a hefty price tag - although to Paul, if she could fulfil a long-cherished fantasy, she would be worth every cent.

“Have any trouble finding the place?”

“Oh no, I work here regularly. I was in this very suite just a few weeks ago,” she said. Iris sat down on the sofa, across from the armchair Paul had been sitting on.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Thanks, that would be nice. What are you having?”

“Scotch.”

“That’d be fine. I take it with soda.”

Paul fixed her drink, then handed it to her. He sat down as she took a sip.

“Oh, that’s good. Just the way I like it.” Iris smiled at him. “Well, let’s get to know each other a little better. Tell me about yourself.”

This was unexpected. “Well, uh, I’m a businessman, divorced, no kids …”

“No.” She spoke softly. “Not that. Tell me … about your interest in fading femmes.”

“Fading femmes?”

“It’s what we call ourselves.” Iris sat back, an enigmatic smile playing on her face.

“Well … this is a little difficult for me. It’s not something I’ve spoken about a lot. Or at all.”

“Start at the beginning. What sparked your desire?”

That was easy. “The Invisible Woman. The 1940 movie. Ever seen it?”

“Of course. Many times. I count Kitty Carroll as a personal hero.”

“It was on TV when I was about 10. On straight after Abbott and Costello Meet The Mummy. The things you remember … Anyway, it came on, I was enjoying it, and then there was the scene where Kitty is turned invisible.”

“I remember.”

“And … it wasn’t even that she was being made invisible, it was like … this mad scientist says something to her like ‘be a dear and step inside my crazy invention, I want to make you vanish’. And she doesn’t flinch. She says something like ‘absolutely! Being invisible sounds like fun!’ She doesn’t hesitate at all. And something went through me … it wasn’t sexual, not at that age … but just the attitude, the daring, and … well, I’ve been fascinated by invisible women ever since. Of course, it’s only in the past decade that invisible women have become real and I had any chance of living out my fantasy.”

Iris laughed. “You’ve summed it up very well. You know what always gets me about that movie?”

“What?”

“Kitty’s in the machine, being hit by God knows what rays, and she says, so matter of factly …”

“‘Am I dissolving yet?’”

“Exactly. Like she’s looking forward to it.” Iris took another sip of her drink. “Anyway, you can see why she’s a hero of mine. Even if she’s fictional.”

“So what about you?”

“Hmm?”

“What made you want to follow the same path as Kitty?”

“Well, my story’s not like yours,” Iris said. “I guess I’ve always had a feeling of being different. When transformation serums started coming on the market, I experimented with a couple. I shrank myself and I turned into a bat, but apart from the thrill of changing, they didn’t really do anything for me.

“Then I got lucky. A friend of mine had bought a couple of bottles of invisibility serum. She tried it, didn’’t like it, so she sold me the other one.

“And that was it,” she said, a gleam coming to her eyes. “I found I loved being invisible. The entire process. The fading. The invisibility. Even returning to visibility. It just did something for me. And … I’ve had clients who enjoy seeing a woman vanish, going silent, being erased. And that’s the opposite of what I get out of it. When I’m invisible, I feel … empowered.”

This was all getting Paul terribly aroused. Something which was becoming obvious to Iris.

“Getting hot in here?” she said with a crooked smile.

“I guess,” Paul said, shifting uncomfortable in his chair. “It’s just … well, I’ve had this fetish for so long and … I’ve never spoken to an actual invisible woman before …”

“Oh, I’m not invisible yet,” Iris said. “But soon I will be.”

She unbuttoned her blouse, just enough to show off her bra. Reaching in between her breasts, Iris pulled out a small vial containing a milky green liquid.

“See this?” she said, holding it up to Paul’s gaze. “This is my serum. In a few minutes I’ll take it, and I’ll turn invisible for eight hours or so. I’ll fade away into nothingness. Just for you.”

Paul was rock hard.

Iris began to unscrew the vial’s seal, then paused. “Clothes on or off?”

“Clothes on … please,” Paul croaked.

“Good. That’s how I prefer it too.” She lifted the vial to her lips. “You know, I’ve done this dozens of times - maybe more than a hundred - and it’s still a thrill.” With that, she tipped her head back and drank the serum. Putting down the empty vial, she stood and moved to face Paul’s chair. “Now watch me - until you can’t see anything else …”

She began to move slowly, sensuously, doing a little groove. And as Paul watched her, Iris began to disappear.

Her limbs began to vanish first. She faded until he could see the room behind her. She ran her fingers through her hair; Paul could no longer see her hands, and her arms were growing faint too. He looked at her legs, marvelling at how her stockings seemed to be empty.

Iris strutted over to Paul. She leaned on his chair’s arms, bending over him. She was transparent now, and he could see right through her to her blouse’s label. Crazily, it stuck in his head that it read “hand wash only”.

Iris’s hair vanished, leaving her face hanging palely above her shirt. “I like you, Paul. I don’t do this for every client.” And she leant over to kiss him. By the time she’d finished, when she raised her head she had been reduced to eyes and a mouth. He saw her smile. He saw her wink at him. And then he saw nothing. Iris had dissipated entirely.

The empty set of clothes stepped back. “Well, Paul, I’ve gone. I’m totally invisible. Like what you see? Or what you don’t see?” Her laugh echoed around the room.

Paul could barely move. He’d wanted to see this for so long, so long …

“You’re … you’re beautiful like this!”

It was a stupid thing to say, he realised immediately, but iris merely laughed again. “I agree. Well, would you like me to get a bit more invisible?”

“Y-yes please. But if you could leave the stockings …”

“Of course!” And the clothes did a little twirl.

As Paul watched, gripping his chair’s arms, the blouse undid its few remaining buttons, then falling to the floor. There, floating above the skirt, was a black bra that bulged in all the right places.

The heels flew off, and the zipper at the side of the skirt unzipped itself. The skirt slid to the floor too, revealing a pair of lacy black panties.

“Now for the main show.” The bra tightened momentarily, then unhooked itself. It spun in the air then flew off, eventually landing on the TV. A giggle emerged from nowhere.

Oh God, the panties … Paul thought. As if a pair of thumbs had hooked themselves into the side of the underwear, they stretched, then slowly lowered themselves to the ground.

And there, just standing there, were two black stockings, hanging in the air.

They walked towards Paul, stopping just before him.

“Good for you?” Iris’ voice breathed in his ear.

“Good is not the word … I don’t have any words, actually …”

“No, but you have this …” She touched him there and he actually jumped.

“Well, I’ve done my striptease for you. Now I think you should do one for me.” The stockings walked over to the bed and something made a dent in it.

Paul got up, kicking off his shoes, then unbuttoning his shirt. The stockings rose, and invisible hands undid his belt. Quickly he removed his pants and boxers.

“Well, well. I can see my little act has you totally … engrossed.”

And then he felt something there. Something like lips. Invisible lips.

It was a dream come true, a fantasy fulfilled …

“Let’s take it slow.” Iris sounded amused. “You’ve got me all night.”

He brushed his hands above the stockings, felt her face …

*

Paul awoke early. It was just past dawn. The air was a little chilly. He thought it must be the air-conditioning, then realised the door to the balcony was open.

Something was floating in the air out there. A cigarette. As he watched, smoke seemed to appear from nowhere.

“Iris?” Damn, he was hard again.

“Paul? You’re awake?” The cigarette crushed itself out. “You’ll have to follow my voice. My stockings … well, one’s ripped, and I have no idea where the other one is …”

More indents in the bed as she sat down, then rolled beside him. He felt a kiss, then the sheet pulled itself over nothing.

“I don’t know why I’m covering myself. It’s not like you can see anything.” She laughed. “Although you probably will soon. My eight hours is almost up. Just thought I’d get a quick smoke in while I could. Dirty habit, I know …”

“God … Iris, thank you for last night. It was … incredible …”

“Hush. You hired me, and I like to give my clients’ their money’s worth.”

“You certainly did that. You’re worth every cent.”

They talked for a few minutes, idly, the way one does in bed.

Paul gazed down. “Iris? I think you’re becoming visible again.”

In an odd reversal of her invisibility, the first thing he saw were her eyes and mouth, hanging suspended in the air above the pillow.

“I think you’re right.” The sheet threw itself back, revealing a female-shaped bubble that gradually began to fill in with colour and details. Paul was amused to remember he hadn’t actually seen Iris naked before she’d vanished. He liked her small handful of breasts, her soft nipples, the little postage stamp of pubic hair.

He especially liked the smiling face beneath the now-tousled hair.

“I’ll call for room service,” he said.

“Would you? That would be wonderful. Coffee and a croissant, thanks.” And Iris cast an eye over her own body, as if to check to make sure everything had returned to normal. “Yes, I’m back. That’s a slight shame. If it had lasted a little longer we could have had a shower together. Showering with an invisible woman - well, I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I hope you’ll get the opportunity.” Paul picked up the phone. “I’m going to be back here in six weeks, and I’m going to book you for the entire weekend. Perhaps you’d like to go to the opera here with me?”

“Visible or invisible?” Iris smiled.

Paul grinned back. “Whatever you want the most.”

He could hardly wait.