Identity Theft
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Identity Theft free porn video
Identity Theft
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2000
Author?s Note: Identity Theft, crooks using somebody else?s ID and credit
cards to steal over the Internet is a very real problem. The victims, the
individuals whose Ids are used, can lose their life savings and spend
months, maybe years, trying to restore their credit and their good name.
When I read an article about it recently, it occurred to me that such
thieves better be very careful whose identity they steal.
* * * * *
T-Jay watched from the shadows while the guy from Apartment 307 tossed his
trash into the dumpster. He waited till the old coot ambled back into the
building. Sure that nobody was watching, he ran over and grabbed the three
loosely tied plastic bags. He turned and ran back into his own apartment,
locking his door behind him.
He had newspapers spread out all over the spare room with clear plastic dry
cleaning bags on top to hold in the moisture. With a grimace, he opened
the bags and tossed their contents onto the floor. T-Jay had already gotten
trash from several other apartments, so he had quite a pile to work through.
He put on an apron and a pair of old work gloves and began treasure
hunting.
He got lucky after about fifteen minutes. The old guy had bought gas with
his Visa card about three days before and then tossed the crumpled receipt.
It was inside a grapefruit rind, and some of the ink had run. Most of the
name and all of the card number were readable. So was the expiration date.
Jackpot!
He kept hunting. He found a phone bill. The lady in 204 would be paying
for his long distance calls again this month. There were four people in the
building who routinely tossed their phone bills. T-Jay liked to switch
between them. There was less chance of getting caught that way.
The rest of the piles were just garbage. He found a bill for a credit card
at a local department store. The problem was that the store didn?t have a
web site and wasn?t likely to get one. It was too dangerous to try to use
the card number in person. He tossed the paper back onto the pile.
When he was finished, he carefully gathered all the garbage up and put it
into his own trash bags. The newspaper and plastic sheeting went in as
well. He carried everything back outside and tossed it all into the same
dumpster that he?d taken it all from a few hours before. The apron and
gloves went into a hamper to be cleaned.
Now came the fun. And the profit.
He booted up his PC and logged onto the Internet. In a few moments, he was
web surfing through one of the largest virtual malls. He looked through his
stack of papers. Yes, it was there. Somebody had been visiting one of the
apartments. T-Jay had caught sight of her a couple times, a really classy
looking bitch with one hell of a figure, long blonde hair, and tits out to
there. Classy - but dumb. She?d been careless enough to toss a receipt for
an American Express Gold Card.
With a little care, that receipt was going to pay his rent and a whole lot
more. He clicked on the icon for a jewelry store and began loading his
shopping cart.
He?d been at it for about a half hour. His bill was up to almost $20,000
when his mouse suddenly froze on him. A red message box filled about
two-thirds of his screen. "Warning! Use of this card is unauthorized. You
have thirty seconds to stop by clicking on ?EMPTY CART? or be penalized for
your greed." An icon with the words "EMPTY CART" and a number "30" appeared
at the bottom center of the message box. As T-Jay watched, the number
counted down "29...28...27...."
Damn! The card must have been reported lost or something. Well, there was
no way they could trace it back to him. He?d just wait till it counted down
and jump to another site. He might even come back to this same site with
that Visa. He probably wouldn?t be able to buy as much, but it was the
principle of the thing. Nobody pulled anything like this on T-Jay Kendall.
As he glared at the screen, the numbers finished "...2...1...0". The screen went
dark for a full ten seconds. Then the image brightened into a swirling
green mist. "What the hell?" T-Jay said. A face was appearing on the
screen. It became more and more distinct. It was the bitch with the gold
card.
"What the fuck? What?s going on here?"
"That?s what I want to know, T-Jay? Who told you that you could use my
credit card?" Her voice was soft and sensual. Another time it might have
been sexy, arousing. Now it was mad, very mad, and some instinct told T-Jay
that he was in very big trouble.
"What?s it to you, bitch? You can?t do anything about it? If you could.
you?d be here in person."
"Very well, if _that?s_ what you want." The woman smiled as her image
slowly faded from the screen.
?Good,? T-Jay thought. He reached for another sheet, another stolen ID,
from the pile. Now to get back to work.
"Is this better, T-Jay?"
The voice was behind him. T-Jay jumped up and turned around. The bitch!
She was somehow standing there in his room.
She was as pretty as T-Jay remembered. Her dark green eyes were narrow
slits in a look of pure anger. Her arms were folded in front of her just
below those oversized breasts of hers. She wore a long shimmering green
gown with a high neck. It hung loose on her, but not so loose to hide all
those interesting curves.
"How the hell did you get in here?"
"How do you think?"
"I don?t know, and, unless you?re a cop with a warrant, I don?t care. Get
out of my house."
"Oh, but it isn?t your house."
"The hell it isn?t."
"It isn?t anyone?s house, T-Jay. No one?s lived here for the last six
months." As she said it, the air seemed to shimmer. T-Jay had rented the
place five months ago. Slowly, item by item, things began to disappear.
The couch and chairs, the table, and the floor lamp had all been there when
he?d moved in. They stayed, but the pictures he?d put on the walls, his CD
rig and tapes, even his PC vanished. He looked through the doorway into the
kitchen just in time to see the microwave go away.
"Where?d my stuff go?"
"To the homes of whoever bought it in this new reality. Some things, the
stuff that you bought with somebody else?s credit card are even back in the
store or warehouse. Why, even your clothes are gone."
"This is crazy." He pulled out his knife, clicking the blade open. "You
bitch! Nobody messes with T-Jay Kendall like this."
The knife disappeared from his hand. The woman smiled as she saw it fade.
"Oh, but there is no T-Jay Kendall. There never was."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You stole my identity, so I?m stealing yours. In a few moments, there will
be no record of you, T-Jay. No papers with your name on it, no memories in
anyone?s mind. Your friends, your family will never have heard of you. Oh,
you may be happy to know that you also have no debts and no criminal
record."
"Then you did me a big favor, bitch. I?m into Joey Bruckner for twenty big
one."
"No, that debt is gone. Mr. Bruckner never heard of you. T-Jay Kendall was
never born."
"You mean, I?m going to disappear, too. That - that?s murder."
"No, T-Jay Kendall was never born. You _were_."
"You mean, I?m somebody else." T-Jay?s body began to feel funny.
"I mean, you?re nobody." She stared at him as if trying to decide
something. "For a start, since you?re no longer T-Jay, you don?t look like
him or his family any more."
T-Jay felt the muscles of his face twitching. It spread down to his throat,
then down into the rest of his body. He reached up to touch his face. His
nose felt different, smaller, and his beard was gone. "What the..." T-Jay
stopped. He?d always been told that he had his father?s deep baritone
voice. Now, he had the voice of a slightly reedy tenor.
"Since you were so eager to pretend to be me," the woman said, "I think that
I?ll steal one more thing of yours."
T-Jay felt a sharp twisting pain in his crotch. He doubled over in agony.
When the feeling passed, he reached down into his pants. The masculine
equipment that he?d used so many times in the past for his own pleasure was
gone. Instead, he felt a small mound of curls around a narrow vertical
slit. A finger slipped inside, and he carefully inspected what he had
found. A finger brushed against a sensitive nub, his clit, and he squeaked
in surprise at how good it felt.
Now he felt his clothes sliding along his body. He looked down at them.
His Lakers? jersey changed into a sleeveless pastel green blouse. The
neckline moving down to the center of his hairy, male chest. Beneath the
shirt, his T-shirt inched upwards to transform into a bra. His jeans rode
up his legs, past his knees, shrinking into a pain of denim cut-offs that
hugged his now flat crotch. Inside them, T-Jay felt the material of his
undershorts change from cotton to a lacy silk.
Then the changes hit his body. His razor cut dark brown hair lightened with
blonde streaks as it flowed down past his shoulders. The hair on his chest
and arms vanished as they grew slender. His nipples seemed to grow as two
nubs pushed out the shirt. His blouse swelled as breasts grew within, full
and round, and almost as big as the rack on the bitch that was doing this to
him. His waist narrowed as his hips rounded. His legs became smooth and
curved.
"You may want to see what you look like," the woman said making an odd
gesture with her hand. The air in front of T-Jay shimmered and changed to a
mirror-like surface.
The woman in the mirror didn?t look at all like T-Jay Kendall. He nose and
lips were fuller suggesting an African ancestry, while her eyes had the
almond shape of an Oriental. Her skin was tanned, a light coppery color.
She was damned pretty, though, with higher cheekbones and long, dark lashes.
Her make-up - when the hell had she put on make-up - was expertly done.
Her figure was fantastic, lots of nice round curves, a great ass, and long,
long legs.
The mirror vanished. The woman was standing in its place, her hand out to
shake his. "Just so you know who did this to you, my name is Elsbeth,
Elsbeth Lange. You won?t be able to tell that to anyone though. Now what?s
your name?"
"C?mon, bitch. You know my name. I?m...I?m..." His name seemed to stick in
his throat.
"You can?t say it anymore. You know who you were. You always will. You
just can?t tell it to anyone. Or write it. Or identify yourself in any
way."
"You bitch!" T-Jay lunged for her. He might not have the knife, but he?d
been doing Aikido since he was ten. He could still hurt this Lange bitch,
hurt her _real_ bad.
Elsbeth vanished as his hands reached her. T-Jay looked around. The
apartment was getting dark, hazy. His head began to hurt, as he felt
himself falling towards the floor.
* * * * *
He was lying in a bed when he awoke. A wave of relief flowed through him.
The whole thing must have been a damned dream. T-Jay opened his eyes. He
wasn?t at home. He was in a hospital. He looked down at himself, trying to
determine why he was there. His eyes widened at the sight of two feminine
breasts pushing up beneath the blanket.
Maybe it wasn?t a dream.
A tall man in a doctor?s smock came into the room. He looked like something
out of an old Western, dark features, dark coppery skin, and log straight
black hair tied in a ponytail behind him. "Hello," he said, "I?m Dr. Daniel
Twoknives. You were found in an alley not too far from here without any
identification. You seem to have an injury to the head. Do you remember
your name?"
"I..." T-Jay reached up to touch a bandage wrapped around his head. He
wanted to say that he was T-Jay Kendall, and some bitch had done something
to him, but what came out was, "No, Doctor. I can?t remember anything
before I woke up just now." His eyes widened in fear. He tried again and
again to say his name, but nothing came out. After a while, he stopped
trying and began to sob.
The doctor took a look at the bandage. T-Jay could feel a small lump under
it that was tender to the man?s careful touch. The doctor took his pulse
and shined some kind of light in his eyes. "Now, don?t worry too much about
it. A blow like that sometimes causes temporary memory loss. You should be
okay in time. Meanwhile, you?re on the hospital rolls as ?Jane Doe?. Is
that okay?"
"No!," T-Jay wanted to yell. "I?m T-Jay, T-Jay Kendall!" Instead, he just
nodded and said, "I guess that?ll be okay."
"Fine. I?m prescribing something to help you relax and get some sleep. You
don?t seem to have any sign of a concussion, so you should be out of here
soon." He squeezed T-Jay?s hand gently as if to comfort her and left the
room. A nurse came in a few minutes later and gave T-Jay a shot. He was
asleep again almost immediately.
* * * * *
Elsbeth Lange stood next to her husband staring down at the sleeping figure.
"Thanks, Mike," she said. "It took a lot of magic to do that."
"I?m still not convinced that it was necessary."
"Not necessary. He was about to put $20,000 on my card when I stopped him,
and he?d been using other people?s credit and phone cards for months. There
was almost $75,000 that went back to its rightful owners when we switched
things around."
"All because he liked to play at being other people, to use their identities
for his own profit."
"Yes, well, he - or rather, she - is nobody now. She?ll be Jane Doe
forever. In fact, over the next few days, she?ll start getting used to it.
She?ll be thinking of herself as a woman by the time she?s discharged."
"Then what?"
"Whatever _she_ wants. She?s a free agent. There?s no ID in her purse, but
there?ll be $1500 more than whatever her hospital bill is. That will let
her get a start. She can do whatever she wants. With one exception."
"And that is?"
"Whatever happened in T-Jay?s life to make him a criminal never happened to
Jane. She?ll remember her old ways, but she won?t be able to follow them.
T-Jay - Jane - may even realize some day that she didn?t get a punishment.
She got a chance to start over."
The end
Nadine
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