**CHAPTER ONE**

Jessica should have known something was wrong as soon as she heard the knock.

She looked up from her book and set down her glass of red wine, almost empty.
It was eight PM, and she rarely had visitors to her house after seven.  She
lived in a two-story house, on a cul-de-sac, in a suburb half an hour outside
the city, and an unexpected knock was rare.

She pushed her glasses back up her face and laid down her romance novel, hiding
it behind one of the couch's pillows.  Grasping her nightgown's belt and tying
it tighter around her narrow waist, she rose from the couch to go to the front
door.  Her slippers made no sound on the carpet as she padded along, and she
found herself a little wobbly from the wine.

Her hair was tied back in a careless bun, and her glasses framed a pretty face
with high cheekbones and a delicate upturned nose.

She paused at the small screen bolted to the wall of the hall that showed a live
video of the person who had knocked.  The camera was mounted above the entryway.

Her breath caught. Her heart beat quicker.

It was Alan.  From work.  She would recognize his broad shoulders and his strong
jawline anywhere.

Moving more quickly, though there was no reason for urgency, she went to
the front door and unlocked it, yanking it open. Alan was there. He turned
around and smiled his thousand-watt smile.

"Jessica."

"Alan! I... I didn't... What's up?" She tried to smile an easy smile, a
nonchalant smile, but she couldn't, the wine and the excitement were too
much. Some part of her knew the smile she produced looked drunk and
happy.

"Jessica," he said, "I wondered... Could I come in?" He was holding a
wine bottle.

"I... Sure! Yes!" The absence of a good explanation didn't bother her,
she was too happy to see him.

He pushed past her, gently, kindly, moving towards the kitchen. He'd never been
to her house before but he seemed to know exactly which direction to go and if
she had been sober, Jessica might have objected, or been curious or suspicious.
In her state, she just followed him, dumbfounded to have the most handsome man
from the office in her home, late on a Sunday night, and unquestioning of the
logic of him being there.

He was already rummaging for a corkscrew to open the bottle.  He wore a dark
suit with no tie, unbuttoned.  She leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen,
woozy from the excitement.  "Alan, this is so unexpected."

He looked up as his hands found the screw. "Not an unpleasant surprise,
I hope?"

"No! No." She smiled at him like an idiot. "It's lovely to see you.
Outside the office." She was grinning, cheeks warm from the wine. Her
hands were behind her, one above the other, gripping the molding around
the door, pushing her chest out. It wasn't that his presence was
completely unexpected. They'd exchanged glances at the office,
suggestive hints. Jessica and Alan were equals there, at the same rung
of the corporate ladder. It wouldn't have been a great scandal for them to see
each other, just a bit of paperwork with H.R. -- but such things sometimes got
in the way of one's career.  

Her mind wandered for a moment to how much shorter Alan was that he normally
seemed at the office.  He was her height, and she'd thought he was a few inches
taller...

His voice interrupted her thought. "I was in the area, and thought it might be
nice to stop by.  I don't think we've ever gotten a drink outside the office,
have we?" As he spoke, he pulled the cork from the bottle with a sharp pop. He
opened one of the cabinets and picked out two glasses -- Jennifer didn't think
twice about how easily he'd found just the right cupboard in the kitchen,
amongst all the unlabeled cabinet doors, without having to search at all...

"That's so true!" She felt like a tongue-tied schoolgirl, in her own kitchen,
the most handsome man in the office handing her a glass of wine on a Sunday
night.

"To unexpected delights!" He raised his glass towards her. It was a strange
thing to say, but he was smiling and she felt like smiling, so she raised her
glass and, tinkling it against his, said, with a giggle, "To unexpected
delights!" She took a sip as he did.

He put the glass down, came over to her and took her glass out of her hand.
Before she could protest, he slid his arm around her and pulled her, gently,
against him.  She could smell his aftershave, could look straight into his
eyes... They looked a little different than how she remembered them.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time."

He kissed her. Her surprise took her a moment to respond, but she did, holding
his shoulders with her hands, gripping the fabric of his suit. Their tongues
intermingled, and he let her push him backwards  against the counter of the
kitchen.  

She began to slump.

The weakness and loss of consciousness were like falling asleep, eyelids
flickering, her face still in a satisfied smile.

He held her up, putting his ear to her mouth.  Her breathing was slow and
steady.

He moved slowly and deliberately. No need to rush.

Moving her came first.  He turned her so he could grasp from behind, his arms
under her armpits, his hands clasped under the heft of her breasts, and walked
backwards towards the guest bedroom.  He knew exactly hot to get there and how
many steps to get there.  Her heels made soft rubbing sounds as they dragged on
the carpet, and once he had her over the bed he laid her down, head on the
pillow, brushing her hair behind her head. He laid her arms evenly on either
side.  Should would be here for a while.

His supplies were in the backyard, just out of view from the house.  He'd placed
them there that afternoon, before Jessica arrived home.  The living room had a
sliding glass door that led to the yard, and he carried in two large cases and
put them down on the bed, next to Jessica.  He flipped them open, revealing a
carefully arranged pile of clothing, makeup cases and skin-colored latex.

His suit jacket came off first, then his shirt.  Under the sleeves of his shirt
the skin of his hands were like gloves, pulled up nearly to the elbow.  He
pulled at the tip of his index finger, and the finger began to stretch.  He did
the same with the other fingers and thumb, and gripped the slack empty skin and
pulled.  The hand's skin came off, and revealed itself to be latex.  Underneath
the man's real skin was dark.  

He did the same for the other hand.  He laid the two Caucasian hands down on the
bed.  He took off his undershirt -- beneath that the disguise he wore was more
obvious, foam padding over his chest and shoulders that gave him muscles he
didn't have and a chest much broader than his own.  With the ripping sound of
Velcro, he pulled them off and laid them down on the bed.  

His own proportions now exposed, his head seemed slightly too large for his real
body. He pulled at the skin of his neck and it stretched, more pliable than real
skin, distorting upwards as he tugged the mask with Alan's features from his
face.  With a sucking sound and a pop, it flopped off into his hand, wig and
lips and eyelashes and cheeks and all.  He put down the empty mask and rubbed
his cheeks with both hands.  His skin black.  A day's stubble on his jaw.
Micheal licked his lips, picked up the empty mask he'd been wearing, and stared
into the empty latex eyes of his ex-boss.

"My Alan, but you are an asshole," he said, in his normal deeper voice, deeper
than Alan's, with a southern lilt that Alan did not have.  Micheal tossed the
mask on the bed.  "No need for you anymore.  Not too sad to see you go, if I may
be honest." He looked at the sleeping form of Jessica on the bed, her head
rolled to one side.  She was out like a light.  "I've got better people to
become."  He tilted his head and thought for a moment. "Well, not better, but
prettier."  

He brought one of the cases with him to the master bathroom, a large space with
a glass-enclosed shower and a bench for undressing.  He sat, and as the water
ran and the room began to steam up, he took off what clothing he still wore, the
undershirt and his pants.  He wore no underwear, and his long dark male member
swung freely as he opened the glass door and stepped into the steam.

He began to sing, a pop song from the 1970s, murmuring the words at first. As he
sang,  his voice grew a little louder and a little higher, moving into a pretty
high tenor range. He lathered himself with soap, and his voice went up the
musical scale higher, higher than a tenor, into the territory of a female alto.
With a momentary awkward stutter, as of a boy hitting puberty but in reverse,
his voice broke even higher, into a clear and pleasing soprano.  It was
identical to the voice of the woman passed out in the guest bedroom.

"Oh what a lovely evening," he said. Every bit of the accent and cadence matched
hers. His southern lilt was gone, replaced by Jessica's west coast, California
manner.  He turned off the water and stepped out.  "It was so nice of Alan to
stop by."

He toweled off with care.  Every inch of his body had to be fully dry to put on
the disguise.

Micheal was the same height as Jessica and built slightly. The only large thing
about him was his cock, above average and thick. It was now beginning to grow a
little bigger, stiffening with anticipation of the rest of his transformation.  

It began with the padding, silicone forms for his chest and hips.  He applied
the glue and lined up the breast-shaped masses in the correct places over his
own chest, then pressed each against his body for a full thirty seconds.  They
were colored a kind of light, medical-latex beige, light-colored masses on the
man's dark chest.  They had the proportions and bounce of real breasts.  

He performed the same operation for his hips and ass.  Jessica had nice
proportions, an hourglass figure.  Sucking in his chest wasn't enough for
Micheal to re-create her waist -- from the case he produced a kind of thin
corset with tiny hooks to seal it.  He wrapped it around himself and breathed
out, fastening up the side quickly.  It wasn't too uncomfortable, and after a
few minutes he would hardly notice it.  He put his hands on his hips and spoke
to himself in Jessica's voice.

"It really is a shame what Alan and I needed to do to that nice guy we fired.
What was his name? Oh that's right, Micheal."

He reached into the suit with two hands and pulled out the full latex suit of
Jessica.  It had no wig attached, that would come later.  It was a perfect copy
of Jessica except for one large difference: at the crotch of the suit, in place
of Jessica's sweet rose of labia, there was a hollow latex sheath for Micheal's
own dick and balls.  It was the same pretty light skin as Jessica.

He talked as he put the suit on. "Micheal really was a nice guy. But he was just
a little too smart, a little too, what do they call it, 'uppity'?" He put his
feet in first, his toes into the suit's toes, pulling the legs up his legs like
socks or pantyhose.

"He just shouldn't have asked about the missing money. That was the real
problem." Micheal reproduced every nuance of Jessica's voice.

He fit his cock into the sheath, the latex stretching over its hardened length.
He resisted the urge to jerk off and relieve the pressure.  After tugging and
re-arranging, his erect black cock and balls had been disguised to look just
like a regular white one, veins and all, but swinging out from the tops of
Jessica's feminine, hairless legs.

"He should have just let that missing money alone. A little accounting error, in
someone's favor, no big deal."

The ass of the suit fit over Micheal's buttocks and padding, snug and tight. He
pulled the chest of the suit up and positioned the nipples of the suit's breasts
over the nipples of the breastforms.

"There had to be some reason for it. And of course, Alan and I had to find a
reason for it that wouldn't come back to the company."

The face was delicate and contained its own subtle padding and tightening.
Latex nostrils fitted into his seamlessly, lips around his lips. There was a
kind of tiny fine zipper that ran up the spine of the suit and he reached under
and behind to pull up the lower half, then over his head for the top half.  To
give him Jessica's nose and cheeks the mask exerted some pressure back. When all
was sealed and tugged and pulled, Micheal wore a perfect replica of Jessica's
face.

"So of course, Alan and I blamed Micheal." From the case he took a tube of a
kind of adhesive. He turned to the full-length mirror on the bathroom wall and
leaned in, dabbing the glue on his scalp.  Then he took out a wig the shade of
Jessica's hair.  Holding it to his head for a moment to seal it there, he took
his hands away.

The transformation was complete. No trace of Micheal remained.  It was like he'd
never been there.  The new Jessica put 'her' hands on 'her' hips. "And now
Micheal has criminal charges pending for wire fraud, and Alan and I are scot
free."

Micheal's erection still jutted out from the new Jessica's crotch, in its own
Caucasian disguise. 'She' grasped it, with both of her white feminine hands, its
length going well past all her fingers and thumbs.  "Fuuuuck, that feels so
good."

Taking one hand away to grasp the doorframe and steady herself, the false woman
stroked the cock coming out of her crotch. In the mirror, she admired 'her'
reflection, this pretty young white girl with auburn hair, stroking her own,
large dick --- the thought went through 'her' head that the cock in her hand was
bigger than probably any that the real Jessica had ever touched or had inside of
her.  That thought made Micheal harder and more turned on --- after another few
minutes of stroking, one of 'her' hands reaching up to fondle her breasts and
play with her nipples, the man inside her began to come --- "Fuuuuuuck!
Yeeeeeah," 'she' said, letting go of her cock, watching cum shoot out from her
manhood in thick ropes, hitting the mirror with little splats, as she breathed
heavily and moaned, her body heaving with each wave of semen. After a moment
'her' wet climax was over, leaving her exhausted.

She leant against the mirror, hands on either side of it, panting to catch her
breath, 'her' face and softening cock pointing towards the floor. She lifted her
head and open her eyes, staring at her reflection.

She stood up straight and collected herself. Put her hands on her hips again,
and turned to observe 'her' profile. A pretty face, pert breasts, a flat tummy,
a perky butt and nice legs. And in the middle of it, her dripping cock.

"Alan would be jealous."

Jessica wiped away the cum from the mirror and used a cloth to clean 'herself'.

"I don't think Alan would be so eager to stop by if he knew about this," her
hands held 'her' dick. "Better hide it for now."

The last part of the disguise was something to cover the covering. A gaff that
covered up Micheal's cock with a false vagina, allowing him to appear as Jessica
from head to toe --- but allowing the concealed man to urinate when he needed
to. With some stretching and tucking, the gaff's edges hidden, the false woman's
crotch looked completely feminine, with no hint of Micheal's hidden monster.

Satisfied with 'her' reflection, 'Jessica' returned to her sleeping twin.  Her
feet padded softly on the carpet between the bathroom and the guest bedroom.
She was there, unconscious,  quietly breathing, the hint of a smile on her face.
Micheal knew her slumber would last another twenty-four hours; he had calculated
the dose of sedative himself.  

The false woman Jessica undressed her twin, layer by layer.  In a neat row on
the floor she folded the robe, the nightshirt and the panties, and the slippers.
Pulled the covers over the sleeping woman.  Then, she dressed herself, Micheal
taking pleasure in putting each garment on just as they had been worn before
'Alan' had knocked.  She even put her hair up in the same way, with the same
scrunchie.  Finally, she put her glasses back on, and blinked.

The doppelganger closed the door, padded down in the slippers to the living
room, and sat down on the couch, right where her twin had been sitting an hour
before.  She put on her reading glasses, and, using 'her' intuition, felt
underneath one of the pillows, sliding her hand underneath.  It came out holding
Jessica's romance novel.

Leaning back and putting her feet up on the table, Jessica opened the book, let
it fall open to the last place it had been read. She sighed to herself, pushed
her glasses up her pretty pert nose and took a sip of wine. She continued to
read.  Not for too long, though, Micheal thought --- 'Jessica' had a big day at
work tomorrow.