Kevin, standing naked and holding a steaming cup of coffee, examined his face in the mirror. He was thirty-five, fit, with a little grey coming into his short, stubbly beard. He needed to leave soon to be at work on time, so getting ready for the day would have to happen quickly.

He slid open the mirrored door to his bedroom’s closet. Hanging there was a latex skinsuit, the empty face hanging down from the shoulders. There was a very fine zipper in the back. But before he could put on the suit, he had to wear the padding.

He put down the coffee and took a corset from the closet shelf. He fit in around himself, hooks into loops, then emptied his lungs, sucked in his chest, and pulled the laces as tight as he could. It used to hurt — but he’d grown used to doing this, and the feeling had become almost pleasurable.

A gaff was on the next shelf down, a kind of pair of latex swim trunks that allowed him to pee as a woman, and gave him a vagina that could be penetrated. They also gave him a feminine ass, and made his hips appear wider. He pulled the thing up his legs tucked his penis into the pouch, and fastened it securely to his crotch.

On the last shelf was a set of breastforms to go under the rubber skin of the suit. They were between a B and a C cup. They and the gaff were a medical shade of pink rubber — no need for them to look real, just feel real. For realism, he had the suit.

He took it off the hanger, and fit his toes and feet into the right leg, then the left. He pulled up the crotch to his crotch, making sure that the vaginal opening of his gaff fit into the opening in the suit’s crotch. The legs were always shaved, and a tuft of brunette pubic hair framed his new vagina. He continued up, fitting his ass and waist into the suit, and then one arm, then another, into the fingers of the suit.

With his hands now feminized, he pulled the mask over his head. The hair was attached, shoulder-length and brown. He made sure none of it was trapped or caught in the suit’s opening, then he zippered up the back. Once the seal was made, the seam was indistinguishable.

Kathy smoothed out the features of her face, pressing them over the masculine ones beneath. She turned to the mirror —  she could pass as easily for 18 as she could for 25. Freckles on her high cheeks, a delicate nose, full lips. She smiled. Kathy knew that her appearance was convincing — several men who worked in Kevin’s office had taken her to bed.

Kathy cleared her throat and spoke in her own voice: “If they knew whose mouth it was they were sticking their dick  in...” she grinned, fondled one of her breasts, closed her eyes and remembered...

Then Kathy turned, and glanced at the clock. “Well,” the fake young woman said, in her high singsong voice, “time to become Kevin again.”

With feminine grace, she reached into the closet and took out an Ace bandage. She wrapped it around her breasts, and pulled it as tight as she could, binding her bosom against her chest. Then she took out a kind of tight latex speedo and tugged it on, over her girlish ass. It was incredibly tight once it was on, and was able to bind and pull the latex flesh of her bottom into a masculine shape.

She took from the closet a loop of padding that went around her waist, under her bound breasts, that added back the girth that the hidden corset had taken away.

From the closet, she took out a second skinsuit. It looked exactly like Kevin. The man inside her.

She slipped her feet into the suit’s feet. It made her female feet look just like Kevin’s own, and his legs. The suit had a penis that looked just like Kevin’s, with a kind of tube that fit into Kathy’s vagina, so she could pee using the fake cock. She got a little tickle of pleasure as the tube brushed past her real cock, now deeply hidden.

She continued up, putting the suit over her bound chest, and tucked her brunette hair down, pulling the male mask over her feminine features. She zipped up the back, which was incredibly tight. Her whole body was squeezed and compressed and bound, inside two suits — after a bit of re-arranging and straightening of the mask of her own face, over the girl’s nose and lips and mouth, Kevin looked exactly like he had when he walked into the room. To the outside world, there was no hint he was a man, inside a woman, inside a man. He looked down at the fake penis at his crotch. There was a way to make it erect by pumping it up, squeezing the balls — Kevin knew it was indistinguishable from the real thing, thanks to a few hook-ups with women who didn’t know they were sucking and screwing a very realistic dildo.

Kevin examined his fake face. It recreated his nose and eyes and lips perfectly. The same slightly grey stubble. He looked exactly the way he had when he’d woken up.

He took a pair of underwear, a shirt, a red tie and a blue suit out of the closet and rolled the mirror door shut again. He picked up the coffee and took a sip, and smiled. It was still hot.

He continued dressing. The first few minutes after his masking were the most difficult, as his body readjusted  to all the invisible confinements of the disguises. When he was ready he picked his briefcase up and went out, locking the door behind him.