The Adventures Of Reggie Starr Book 1 free porn video

The following is the beginning of a serial, which will continue as stand alone books. Just for the record, I know much about the subject as I was in a much similar environment. This character is a mixing of several police investigators I have known over the years. Here is the first book in the series. I have tried to keep the sex and violence to a minimum. I have been trying to keep an ?R? rating. That means, no one under 18 should read this. If you are 18 and do read this, don?t blame me for turning you into a TRANSVISTITE. But if you have that inclination, by all means, read on. I have borrowed some material from previously written items. I loved ?Duty, Honor, Country?, By Brandy Dewinter. Parts of this story were inspired by Brandy's story. Some of the names are the same, but that is about it. One more thing, This material is offered for free distribution. It is not allowed on a pay site. It is to be kept free. IF anyone sees this material on a pay site, please notify me. As long as it is offered for FREE, anyone can use or distribute it. But, if you want to publish it, by all means, contact me. I am no fool??.. The adventures of Reggie Starr. By Leslie Josette Gill [email protected] Chapter one. Reggie Star, Crime fighter. It was another hot, sticky August on the Mississippi Gulf coast. It was 98 degrees in the shade and I was trying to stay where it was cooler. I was watching a group of teenagers who, under normal circumstances would be in school. School had just started. But these Young ones were up to no good. They were supposed to be in school. I was glad I didn?t have to wait very long. One of the young ones, a big blond studley approached the just opened bank and stepped through the doors. Just as he did, I saw a gleam of metal. A gun. My information had been right for a change. From observation, and a few pictures I had taken, it was obvious that this young Turk was not by himself. The other two had taken their positions. One was watching the door. He was prepared. He had a portable scanner and was obviously listening to the police channels. The other one was in the car, waiting for the deed to be finished. This group was participating in a gang initiation. That is how I got my information. I had an insider in the gang and had been tipped about the robbery, and when it was to occur. I just got my position picked out and had been there an hour when this crew showed up. I had my trusty Mini 14 with a scope and my trusty 45 auto. All I could hope is that the crew didn?t take any hostages. I didn?t like to kill, but, in this case, and because of the nastiness of this crew, I had already made my mind up about saving the State taxpayers some money. I had not been spotted by anyone. That was good. Not even the local police knew what was going on. I wanted it that way. Locals were OK, but, got in the way sometimes. Plus, this crew was smart enough to have a police monitor. I had my rifle and handgun ready. I had my portable police radio on and ready. My first target was the tires of the getaway car. I was going to take out the front tire. Then, if a shot was fired at me, I was going to blow them away. Point blank, no bargaining, no maranda, nothing. Just instant justice. Nice and clean. Or at least I hoped it would be clean. Things started up. The doors opened and the stud came out of the door backwards. The look out signaled it was all clear. The car cranked up. they were just getting in the car, when, I took out the front tires. They came bailing out of the car and opened fire in my general direction. My second shot took out studley. My third shot took out the driver. My fourth shot took out a windshield. It didn?t take long for the lookout to raise his hands and signal a surrender. I stood up and signaled my prisoner to lay down on the ground. A quick call to the local police on my radio was enough to get help started. I quietly walked across the lawn where I was hiding and put a pair of handcuffs on the bum and checked the other two. They were dead. I had killed them both. The mini 14 was bad about bullets exploding, once entering a person. Messy. It took the locals a full minute and a half to get there. It didn?t take long for the local police chief to get on the Phone to my boss, the director of public safety. His complaint, I was a rouge cop. I was a loner. I was dangerous. But, everything I had done had been by the book. I just neglected to tell the locals about my information. As always, I was by the book. But, I still had my troubles with the local police. They didn?t like me. I was rouge. But, in my several years here, I had a better than 75 % conviction rate and unfortunately, a large body count. I was known as a killer cop. So far, I had won all the battles, but unfortunately, my war was still undecided. The governor could take my gold badge anytime he wanted. If I stirred up too much controversy, I was gone. Politics. I hated it. But as a state investigator, it was part of the territory. I had to go file my report. I had to go book the Lookout. I had to go look into the eyes of my piers and my local captain. Seemed that no one approved of saving the state money. But, undeniably, I was by the book. -------------------------------- A state investigator is appointed by the governor. His job is to do what ever is necessary and prudent to enforce the laws of this state. He answered to the governor and the Director of public safety. In any criminal investigation, this one person has jurisdiction any where in the state. Even over the locals. This was always a sticky point with the politics. We were cautioned on a monthly basis to be kind to the locals. The sheriffs and police chiefs were loudly complaining of the rough tactics being used in some of the investigations in progress. My name is Reginald Herbert Starr, or Reggie for short. I had been appointed as a state investigator 4 years ago, but before that, I was a trooper for 10 years. I had respect, but, also a really bad rep. I didn?t really deserve it, but, no one got in my face. My report was done. It was flawless, and had pictures from my camera as evidence. My case was air tight. I was expecting a call from the attorney for the lookout. It didn?t take long for the land sharks to gather. My case was just too good. I also got calls from the boys parents. The father of studley, the ring leader wanted to know if his boy shot first or did I? I told him what happened and how. I can?t believe I got an apology from him. But, he was sorry his boy had gone bad. Sorry I had to kill him. Sorry for what could have happened. All I could do is sympathize with him. The Next call was from the mother of the driver. This one didn?t go quite as well. I was a murdering cop who liked the thrill of killing. I patiently listened to the mother and her raving. Her attorney was going to try to sue me. All I could do is listen and make sympathetic noises. My office was in an open area, in the back of the local state trooper office. I had been a trooper once. My actions in capturing a terrorist and resolving several hostage situations, had gotten me a rapid promotion. My 6th sense was legendary. I just knew things. I never, I mean never, let a jury know this. I just made the comment that I had made some lucky educated guesses. My politics were good until I started messing with the locals. I really did try to work with the local cities in the area. But, just as soon as I tried to do a stake out or set up a bust, they would mess it up. But it was turned into my fault. So I started working alone. I didn?t tell anyone what I was doing, day to day. I did get assignments. But they were usually high profile cases. I had been assigned to only a few of them as I was the one who usually broke the case. Lets say the other investigators wanted the action. Again, Loner Reggie was best left to his own. Suited me fine. ----------------------------------------------- It had been a long day. I was heading home. My modest home was more shop than home. I had my electronics shop and my tinkering shop set up. I was not married. So I could do as I wished. Home was a mess. I called a cleaning lady to make the place presentable once a week. She was coming tomorrow and the place needed it bad. I made very good money for a cop. Part of having a gold badge. I had toys. I had guns. I had electronic equipment and tools. I had way too much stuff. But, I had managed to get these things honestly and I didn?t smoke or drink. I saved money and got what I liked. I didn?t have to have a car. I was issued one. I could use this car for anything I wished. It was official looking, but, did what I needed. Tonight, I sat down and watched the news on TV. My spectacular Bank robbery arrest was all over the news again. I changed the channel. The news media never got it right. There was always some kind of spin put on everything. Just before I changed the channel, I saw the police chief with a mike in his face. I was disgusted. Jerry Springer was on. I loved this show. While everyone dumped on this show, it was closer to the truth than most news casts. I got my cup of coffee and settled in. The transvestites were on again. They were ganging up on a couple of bubbas. Something about the local law prevented the TV?s from going in the ladies room and had to use the men?s. The noise was over the guys objecting. Fun stuff. I went into the work room and looked at my latest project. It was a very small bug. I might need this soon enough. But, for now, I had to find a battery capable of running it for a long period of time. Power was always a problem. I went into the tinker shop and looked at the leather utility belt I had set up waiting for riveting. I would wait till the weekend to finish it. I had other ideas and mostly made things to help me in my work. I had stopped wearing a vest a long time ago. It slowed me down. I always tried to anticipate the other guys moves before there was a problem. So far, I was lucky. X files was on. I went back and looked at that for a while. I was just trying to unwind. Killing was never a good thing. I usually was warped when this happened and it took a while for me to unwind. I gave up and took my hot bath and tried to go to bed. For a change, my sleep was better than most days. The next morning, I was rested and feeling fairly good. I went into the office, and looked at the messages. Nothing new. Good. But, I expected something to break today. I had pissed off the local chief. I didn?t have long to wait. The phone rang. It was the governor?s office. ?Oh shit. Here we go.? ?Reggie, you are a bit warm today, aren?t you?? ?Governor, sir, I did the only thing I could. If I had brought anyone else in, the scene would have had more than 2 deaths. I picked my spot and did everything to stop the crime. I followed the rules.? ?Reggie, you know very well that perception is everything. The perception is that you did a one man Dirty Harry. The locals want you gone. I may have to transfer you.? ?Sir, You know I don?t want to cause this kind of trouble, it just finds me. I don?t particularly want to move, but, if you wish, I will do what is necessary.? ?When is the hearing on the case?? ?Because of the evidence, later this week. I got some very good pictures.? ?That means you could have stopped the crime?? ?Sure, I could have stopped this crime, but ask this. How long would have it been before they did something much worse and civilians were killed? I think I did the right thing and stopped a bloody reign.? ?I just wish you had done the right thing and notify the locals. We wouldn?t be talking like this if you had.? ?Sir, for the record, the locals would have caused a hostage situation. I feel I did the right thing.? ?Remember what I said, Reggie, Perception is everything.? It had been another lesson in politics. I hate politics. But, the Governor was right. ?Sir, I will do what you wish.? ?Good, I have an assignment for you when you are done with the case down there. We have a serial killer. We have been keeping it quiet, but, the Gays are screaming. Got to do something.? ?Gays?? ?Believe it or not, South Haven, Mississippi. We have had 5 bodies turn up in a local garbage dump in the last 2 years. The local sheriff has been keeping it quiet. The FBI is looking for someone like you to help. It might be a joint FBI and Mississippi State investigation. They are at a standstill. IF I send you on this, It?s the only thing you will be working on. Are you game?? ?Only if I don?t have to move my house again.? ?No, this is strictly an undercover job. Just you and the FBI. Just bring your necessary things and show up at the Memphis Federal building Monday of next week.? ?Yes Sir.? It was Thursday. I had to go to the court house and work with the D. A. I had a couple of days to get ready. I notified the office and the patrol captain that I was going out of the area for a while. I saw the knowing look. I knew that they knew I was just too hot around here and was being sent out of the area for a while, so that things would cool down. The secretary made the notations in the schedule book. My check and pay would be auto deposited into my checking account. I had done this before. I called the bank. My bills would be automatically paid out of my account. All my house notes and loans would be taken care of. I came in and locked up my credit cards and my important papers. I gave the keys to the bank president. He had done this before, for me. I had left once for more than a year. I had a premonition. I didn?t know just what was going to happen, so I gave the bank president a special set of instructions. The bank president would open the safe deposit box for a specific code word and the correct information. It didn?t matter who came. If they knew the right code, then he would give them the keys. I then went to my attorney. I gave him a duplicate set of paperwork with the code to the bank president. He had the same instructions. My attorney was a good friend. Even though he had represented one of my arrests before. I knew he had a job to do. So did I. We had respect. I think I had all the bases covered. I was ready. I packed my bags and loaded up the state car. I had 375 miles to drive. I could do it in one day. I was not in a big hurry. US 49 to Jackson, was a long speed trap. I had worked this road many times. I passed many of the troopers doing their jobs. My radio call was ?B13?. I heard my call several times and responded. They were just saying hi. I stopped in Jackson and refueled at the Jackson substation. I filled out the paperwork and left again. 3 hours later, I was at the Batesville substation. I gassed up again. This car was a police interceptor. It had the big engine and poor gas mileage. Again, more HI?s from troopers on the road. I 55 went all the way into Memphis and just as I crossed over the border, I let Batesville know I was out of the state. I had no idea when I would return. ---------------------------------------------------- The Memphis office of the FBI had its hands full. There had been 5 or more murders in the last 2 years. The agent in charge had himself a serial murderer. The murderer?s targets were Transvestites. These men were local businessmen and middle class working stiffs who liked to dress as women. The crimes were being held from the news media. Due to the way the men were found, the families and the news media were helping by not reporting ?how? they were found. Just that they were dead and foul play was suspected. Yes, the media was working on it too, but, they were not to be seen, which I might add, was unusual. Normally, this kind of crime was overlooked by the local police. But the local Queer groups were starting to scream. They believed that there was a serial killer also. But, there was no witnesses or evidence to be found at the crime scenes. The victims were all cut across the neck with a straight razor and choked on their own blood. They had not found any murder weapons or fingerprints. There was never any sexual assault. After digging, the FBI found out that these men were not of the local gay subculture. These were transvestites. They were Transgendered. These men were local straight men who dressed as women as some kind of obsessive / compulsive need. We have heard it all before. But, most of this is done in secret and in groups which were secret in nature. Getting information about these groups was almost impossible. There were web sites. These men were politically active, but, only their female names were known. All of the victims were of the local group. But the local groups didn?t want to communicate. They were afraid of being exposed to the general public. After all, they lived secret lives and didn?t want to be discovered. The only way any of these men ever allowed contact was by e mail. That is what the FBI finally did. They sent an e mail message to the group, telling them that they needed contact. The response was slow in coming. But finally, the group invited an agent to come to a meeting. The FBI agent assigned to this murder case was Bob Carson. Bob was the local agent who was the unlucky soul who got the weird cases. This one ranked as a super weird case. He didn?t really know what to expect when he knocked on the hotel room door. --------------------------------------------- Lisa was the president of the local chapter of Tri-ess in Memphis. She was rather disturbed. She had lost 5 of her members to violent death in the last 2 years. Very few of the group met anymore. Everyone was scared. The Cops were unimpressed with the groups pleas for help. Lisa was at her wits end when the FBI sent her an e mail. They wanted to meet. She decided to answer the Feds and see what they could do to help. ----------------------------------------------- Bob Carson knocked on the door of the hotel suite. Lisa answered the door shyly and greeted Bob. ?Mr. Carson, good to finally meet you.? ?I can?t believe it, you look like a woman!? Lisa did the shy bit and answered, ?Well thank you. Its taken a long time to learn to pass like this. Come in and let me introduce you to our group.? Bob looked around the room. The room had 10 or 12 people who did or didn?t look like women. There were men who couldn?t pass in a dark alley. And there were people who he couldn?t really tell if they were men or not. Lisa addressed the group. ?Ladies, this is Bob Carson. He is an FBI agent from Memphis. He is here to talk to us about the recent Deaths.? The Group of men were indeed shy. They didn?t want to talk to Bob. But, something had to break. Finally several members came up to Bob and engaged in conversation. Bob took the opportunity to explain why he was there. ?We are frankly stumped. We don?t know about these things and don?t know how to proceed. We need your help. Anything you can tell us, will help. I will protect your identity by using only your female names.? It took a while, but members of the group decided to tell of what they knew. It was very sparse. They really didn?t know much. But, Bob was learning about Transvestitism. These were normal guys who under any other conditions, would be considered normal guys. But, something in their past caused this behavior. These people were scared. They were being singled out and killed. 5 so far. Bob was there to help. But, He wasn?t getting much. He did get a web site information, and some references. He did everything he could and then sat and listened to the meeting. Later, he was invited out to the local gay club and hangouts. He was shy about some of it, but, did finally enjoy the evening. What he brought back to the Main office, needed further investigation. That was when a phone call to the office of Dept. of Public safety was made. They needed help. ------------------------------------------------------ I made my way to the Federal building. I came in and signed in. It didn?t take long for Bob to come down and meet Me. Bob shook my hand. ?I am glad to get some help. Did they explain what we need you to do?? I was clueless. ?No, I am afraid not. I get sent on missions sometimes without explanations. I get the dirty jobs. What you got?? Bob smiled. ?OK, well, this is going to take a while. Come on up and lets get some coffee.? I knew something was up. The people in the office smiled knowingly at me. Seemed everyone knew why I was there, but I didn?t. I had a feeling. But, I would wait to confirm my suspicion. ?Reggie, we need you to go undercover. We need you to pose as a Transvestite. We need you to pose as a man who likes to dress as a woman.? I gulped, I had suspected this, but it still was a shock. Bob continued. ?We want you to learn everything you can and infiltrate this group. These men are being killed systematically. We need to stop this. So, you need to get into the group and find out you can.? I looked at Bob. ?I suspected this. I need to find out the setup. Who will I be and what will be my profile?? ?We have several undercover operations in progress. We think we can use you in one of them as a cover and do this to, at the same time. We would be able to migrate your new identity and run the other operation too. We would need to teach you everything you need to know to be a typical Transvestite. In this case, the greener, the better. This might take a month. You in?? ?Yes.? I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I would have to become a member of the community and establish myself as a middle class business person. Then, I would have to contact the group and become a member. I had to work on what they called Passing. This was the art of fooling the general public that I was really a woman. Being ?Read? was when I didn?t fool them. Being read was bad. Passing was good. Bob Carson handed me several video tapes and gave me several business cards. Bob had collected information about makeup and wigs and different business establishments that would help a new TV with the Look. After I was finished at the main FBI office, I had to go set up the Undercover life. The FBI had several apartments which it used as safe houses and cover joints. I was given the keys to one by the Airport. Not the best area of Memphis, but nice otherwise. I settled in the apartment and unpacked. The phone rang. It was Bob. He wanted to know if I knew my way around pawn shops. I was a good gunsmith and I could handle money. I was good with my hands and Had a great electronics background. So I was multi-talented. I was perfect for what he had in mind. Looks like I fell right into an operation downtown where the FBI and local police were running a Pawn shop detail. They needed a good gunsmith and pawn dealer. So, I got to do double duty. I was now a pawn shop owner. My cover was that I had just bought the place and was not completely legal. I needed a cloudy past and the appearance of someone who needed a buck. I was to run it by the book when honest folk came in and dirty when the scumbags came in and let the other agents play games. Fine by me. This was a title with no substance. I mostly showed up and ran the shop like a business. The agents took video of the crooks with the stolen merchandise and recorded it. I took the legit items and dealt with the real pawn customers. After the first day of the grind, I went back to the apartment and got ready for the next part of the operation. -------------------------------------------------- I had studying to do. I had 3 or 4 video tapes and a book or two to read. I was not going to be ready in one day. So, I took the time and began to watch and read right away. Bob was going to leave me alone for a day or two and let me digest my material. Yes, we were in a hurry, but not so much in a hurry to do it wrong. The first thing I learned was that TV?s liked female clothing all the time. Not just one part of the day, or the weekend. So, I was going to have to start wearing this stuff all the time. I was going to have to learn how to conceal the fact that I was wearing the stuff. Hmmmmm, not my favorite thing. But, part of the job. I learned from the video tapes that this was a life long obsession that would not go away. The men who did this, would try to quit, but always came back. I was going to reserve my comments till later on that fact. I got to looking at the books they gave me. This was not going to be a fun assignment. I was going to have to risk going out in public, dressed funny and expect to carry it off. Not good. ---------------------------------------------------- The next day, I went back to the Pawn shop and put in a full day at the counter. I was not to explain to anyone that there was another mission involved with this operation. The second part was secret. This was befitting the nature of the mission as most of these guys were leading secret lives anyway. I made a call to Bob. ?Bob, I will need to go and get a few things. How we going to pay for the stuff?? Bob knew it had to be done. He had briefed one of the Female FBI agents as to the nature of my mission and asked her if she could help me. This was going to be embarrassing. But, necessary. We were to meet tomorrow and go to a special store she knew about. She would make the arrangements. The next day, Hilga showed up at the little apartment by the airport. Looked like I was in good hands. This agent was the tallest woman I ever saw. She stood 6? 1? on flat feet. She had to have weighed 180 pounds. But I was going to be nice and keep my mouth shut. ?Hi, every one calls me Hilga.? I laughed and said, ?Hilga, you have been type cast. Your name is perfect for you!? She just chuckled and did a cheep Swede accent and did a ?you be nice boy and we will have fun later?. We hit it off right away. ?Reggie, how in the hell did you get yourself in this one?? I had not stopped laughing and choked. ?I keep pissing the bosses off.? ?You did a good job indeed. Now you got to play dress up. I bet the bosses are doing a good laugh too.? ?I am going to be very careful with pictures. I don?t want them to get anything on me in the office. This is going to be tricky.? Hilga just laughed again and gave me the knowingly look. ?I know about this. We will try to keep you in deep cover. But, before we can go to any of the shops, you need to go take a shower and visit a razor. No body hair. Remove it all from the neck down.? ?What if I cut myself?? ?I thought of that. Here is some Nair. Use this for the first pass. Liberally spread this all over. I will help you with your back and where you cannot reach yourself.? I took this foul smelling chemical and went into the shower. I was to spread this stuff on my body and wait 15 minutes. Then I was to take a scrub brush and get the stuff off. I hated chemical smells. I hated the itching sensation the stuff caused. Thankfully, I was not a real hairy person. Thankfully, I was not a real big person. I got to thinking about Hilga?s size. I must have been every bit of 5 inches smaller than her. I only weigh 160 pounds. Lets face it, I was not a big man. That had a lot to do with why I was here in this position now. After 15 or 20 minutes, most of the hair on my body was in the bottom of the shower stall. I was still a bit shy about being naked in front of Hilga. But that would soon pass. I had work to do. I finished drying myself off and walked back in the room with a towel wrapped around me. Hilga was holding up several garments. ?Got to get you used to wearing a bra and panties. Maybe even a garter. I think the more radical, at first, the better.? I was not a happy camper, but, this was necessary. I started to put this bra on, and soon realized I couldn?t attach it in the back. Hilga suggested that I put it on backwards and spin it around. Then I could put my arms through the straps. Neat tactic. Then the panties. Felt like silk underwear. This didn?t bother me. But the garter belt was another matter. This thing has these metal hooks, on elastic straps, and fell at the upper thigh. They were going to poke me when I sat down and could be seen through my clothing. But, for me to get the mindset, I would need to practice this. The Garter belt was on and I was fighting the garter straps on the stockings. I finally managed to get the back straps even and adjusted the straps. I have to admit that this rig felt kinda strange. I would soon get very used to it. Hilga handed me an undershirt looking thing made out of silky material. This was the method in which I would conceal my bra under my shirt. I could see some of the lines, but to someone who really wasn?t looking, it made it harder to see. It worked. I didn?t have to put anything in the cups yet. The purpose was to get used to the damn thing. I got a pair of socks and put them on over the stockings which were tugging me in places and getting me kinda hot. My pants never felt this good. Hilga started laughing at me. ?What are you laughing at me about?? ?You are getting turned on by the clothing!? ?I do admit that it does feel different. Very strange. But exciting.? Hilga continued to laugh. ?I was going to ask if that was a banana in your pocket?? ?Please don?t evoke Mae West right now. Somehow, I think she would have enjoyed this picture." Hilga shook with laughter and then looked at her watch. ?Time to go. We have an appointment with several shops and may not make them all. We got to go.? We first went to get underwear. I had to make a decision about how big my breasts were going to be. I liked big ones. I told Hilga to make them at least a C cup or even possibly a D. I got a laugh out of her and she made the appropriate choices. My waist was a typical males. I needed something to reduce my waist and increase my hips. I saw a corset for the first time that day. This was not a normal corset. As a man, I didn?t have the hips. So, until I had a custom one made, a ribbon corset would have to work. She took one look at me and got a 28?. I nearly died right there. I was handed what was called an ?All in one? control garment with a bra sewed in. I needed all the help I could get. The FBI bought 500 dollars of underwear that day. The next shop was just as bad. We bought glue on breast forms. They were the expensive mastectomy type that felt real. Hilga got DD size cups. ?You said you liked big ones. You are going to curse that decision later.? I just laughed. ?We all have to suffer sometimes. Might as well get it over.? Hilga looked me over again. ?We have the underwear, now, we have to go for a look. You want conservative or wild?? ?I think I would like a little of both. IF I am going to play these games, I might need both. I don?t really know where this is going.? ?Wise, but expensive. We will keep this to a minimum at first. You can buy more later. But for now, one or two outfits.? I agreed and off we went again. The next store was cooperative. They figured out we were shopping for me. They even slipped me a flyer about the local Tri-ess group. Good, a contact that was legit. There, we only bought 2 outfits of each type. I was the type who looked best in dark colors. So, Dark blue, and a red. And the wild look got more red and some black. I was in a hurry to get out of there. I didn?t really care what the stuff we bought was called. But, what ever the ?Mini was, it would barley cover my ass. We went by a shoe store. I bought a couple of pair of sensible heels in neutral colors and a couple of pair of wild ones. A pair of spiked boots with a 4? heel and a pair of 5? platform strappy things. I am glad this was a cheep store. 400 dollars for shoes was rough for anyone. The last stop was a costume shop. It sold wigs and makeup. Two birds with one stop. I was told by Hilga to buy some fake fingernails and polish. Some grooming tools such as an emery board and tweezers and little things like that. This store was used to this kind of thing. I found out later that the ?Queens? bought here. I am glad we were finally through with this buying spree. 2000 dollars went real quick. Now, I had to start practicing the art of being female. I didn?t want to come off too good at first. I was supposed to be a beginner. I did want to look like I had some money. I think me and Hilga pulled it off. Now, I had to start wearing the underwear full time. She just laughed at me again. ?Reggie, this is something you got to get used to. So might as well start going to work wearing your stuff. The cops in the store know you are on a mission, but not what. Might as well let them wonder about you. Will help your reputation.? ?I can hear Fagot already.? ?You have to be bullet proof. They will leave you alone. Even if they see anything, they won?t say anything. Now, get Your ass in gear. We have to go to a sewing supply store.? ?What in the hell for?? ?You will see.? I was wondering about Hilga. Hilga was all woman, but there was some clue that not everything was right. I couldn?t place the issue. But, I was caught looking her over real close. She just smiled and said something about being good about studying discretely. I wasn?t studying for that reason. My reason was more suspicion. I would have to ask Hilga?s background later. I got my ?equipment? on and properly hidden under male clothing. We were off again to the store. We bought 2 pieces of dense white foam rubber. This was not the normal stuff. This was the stuff that was used for hard sofa cushions. I was going to remember this. I didn?t ask Hilga any questions. I just blindly followed. We paid 50 dollars for those two pieces of foam. I thought it was high, but after this day, it was cheep. We got back to the apartment. She asked me to lay down a lot of newspaper on the floor. She took a measuring tape and took some of my measurements again. But this time, she was not using the standard formulas. She measured at my waist and then down to my knees. She took a front line leg measurement at the widest hip centerline around to the crack of my ass. Then she took a measurement to my knee the same way. From front to back. Then she laid out a pattern on the foam. It looked like a wing on the back of an airplane. She started cutting and shaping this foam. Then she took the foam and laid the cut piece against the other uncut piece. She made the same layout. I had no Idea what she was doing. ?Hilga, what are you doing?? ?You will see?, was all she said. It was another Hour before I began to realize just what she was doing. I finally figured it out when she laid the piece of foam against my hip. I was being fitted for a fake Ass and hips. Now, I really had to wonder. ?Hilga, OK now, how in the hell do you know how to do this?? Hilga laughed again. ?They felt that I was the best person for this job.? A light turned on. ?Hilga, please, tell me you were not once a man.? ?OK, I won?t tell you.? ?My God, I would have never known. No wonder Bob Carson put you with me.? At this point, Hilga decided to come clean with me. ?Reggie, I was once a man. But I have had the surgery and the hormones and everything else necessary to make me legally a female. I am a post-op, transsexual. The FBI have a policy to not discriminate against people like me and let me continue the transition while working in California. I moved to Memphis after My surgery was done. I am now, all woman.? ?I got it all figured out now about the strange looks and the comments made to me in the office. Everyone knew. You are the best one to help me. Why didn?t they give you this assignment?? ?They wanted to. But there was a basic problem. I am TS, not TV. To join a Tri-ess group, you must be a hetero male. They don?t accept TS people.? ?Lots makes sense now. The tapes talked about all this. Where will all of this lead? Am I going to turn out like you?? ?Probably not. I took the hard road. Most TV?s can keep their male lives and play dress up anytime they want. I became a full time female. I now live this way all the time. After so long, a TV would be bored. I felt I was always female and just had the wrong body. That is the difference between me and a TV. TV?s are attracted to the clothing and the experience. I want to be, not pretend to be.? ?It had to take some guts to do this. How long has this change taken?? ?Total time including the Real life test was 4 years.? ?Real life test?? ?Reggie, I had to live as a woman for a year before I could qualify for the surgery. I was on hormones all that time and I had breast implants. I had Liposuction and fat redistribution. They gave me hips and a butt, this way.? ?Painful?? ?You have no Idea How painful it is to have ribs removed and all the rest. I was black and blue from the surgery for months. I had it all done at once. It cost me 35 thousand dollars. The insurance didn?t pay a damn thing. I paid it all.? ?Did you ever worry that the FBI wouldn?t take you back?? ?They gave me their full support. I had a feeling they knew they needed people like me for special assignments. So, here I am with you. I am to guide you in a new world. One that you have never seen before.? We ended up talking all night. We finished the fitting of the fake hips and ass. I would need a Gaff. That was for the next couple of days. Right now, I had to get used to things. The gaff was going to have to be made custom for me. The next morning, Hilga packed herself up and left me to go into work for the first time wearing my new hardware. I was off into a strange new world. The Adventures of Reggie Starr Chapter 2 The Devil is in the details. By Leslie Josette Gill I had discovered that I was in good hands. But, because of the nature of my assignment, I had to appear as a new transvestite, alone in the world, trying to find a group to belong to. I needed real world experience, as the group expected an infiltration. Who would be who? Hilga was working with me on aspects of what I was doing. She was working with me on what everything was called. What everything did. Where to go when dressed up. Fortunately, Memphis had a community of TV?s who associated with the Gay community. --------------------------------------------------------------------- I had 5 bodies and no suspects. We were defiantly losing. I had to come up to speed as soon as possible. I was not given the total file package. There was some stuff Which I was told that I didn?t need to know. I questioned this. In a murder case, everything was relevant. But, They didn?t tell me much about the individuals. Just how and when they were killed and their contact with the Tri-ess chapter. The other main piece of information I got, was how each one died. Usually a knife in the back or in the lower body. No gun shots. I did have a question which they immediately changed the subject on me. What was the blood chemistry of each individual? What was their blood chemistry? I never got an answer. This was very fishy. The FBI was not good at giving out everything. I had worked with them before and this was typical. (Conspiracy theorist have said that the FBI, For years, kept secrets better than any spy organization. Look at J. Edgar. He was the biggest Transvestite in history!) ---------------------------------------------------- Hilga had me going to work, the next few weeks wearing a long line bra and panties and garters. I wore white socks to cover the feet and ankles and an extra undershirt to cover the bra lines. But, I did notice the stuff restricted my movement. This was what I had to get used to. Everything else, well, it felt strange at first. But soon, I became comfortable. Maybe too comfortable. I was getting used to the mind set. That disturbed me. After work, I had to practice walking in the damn heels. I started with 3 inch and worked my way up. I found that I could maintain 4 and a half inch heels with no difficulty. But the minute I went to 5 inch, I started having problems. I was seeing other ?girls? in the gay clubs walking in them. I asked Hilga what the deal was. ?Reggie, those girls live in heels every day. That is how they can manage the 5 inchers. As a rule, only the real queens stay in the really high stuff. Everyone else tries to be sensible.? I set out to learn to walk in those damn 5 inchers. At first, well, I lasted 20 minutes. Then thirty minutes. Then an hour. Practice, practice, practice. Every night, I would dress up in the pads and the whole works and move around on the heels until I got more used to them. I started going out at night in drag. I went from calling what I was doing, Drag, to calling it being Dressed. That was just one of the differences between the gays and the TV?s. The Gay folk simply used Drag as a means to a way. The TV?s ?dressed? to satisfy a deep seated need to be someone else. It just happened to be Female. I finally got a letter back from the chapter. I answered it immediately and I was given a phone number to call. Things stated to happen. I finally made contact. In the meantime, it didn?t take long for the cops at the Pawn shop stake out to notice little things about their mysterious pawn shop owner. Only the cop in charge of the operation knew that I was working super under cover and to let me go as I needed to. But the cops started seeing little things in the way I acted and walked. They even spotted a bad job of removing eye makeup one day. Finally, someone asked me what was going on. I had to have a very quite talk with the crew at the shop. This was not something I wanted to do and had guessed it would sooner or later happen. I finally had to tell the crew everything. I called Bob and told him I had to spill the beans to the crew. I told them about the murders and what group was being targeted. The fact that I had to go undercover and had to become one of them. They knew I was a detective or something of that nature, but no one had briefed them on who I really was or where I was from. Seems they had heard of me. Several of the guys chuckled and asked me if I was enjoying myself. ?Listen asshole, you try doing what I am doing. This equipment and the necessary items I have to get used to using are killing me. I have to train in 5 inch heels and wear the underwear all the time. Things pull and bite where it never did before. And this damn gaff. Talking about torture. This thing took over a week to get used to. But, I am going to master this. If any of you assholes want a little of this medicine, I can get you volunteered for the detail. Interested?? That shut them up. They kept what I had said quiet. They didn?t want to be on the detail with me. That was my best weapon with them. So now, I had to go out every night and socialize. I decided to frequent the gay places. I experimented with my look. I went from sleazy to classy. I tried everything and found that I worked best in the jeans and top set. But I still had to live in those damn Heels. I kept the 5 inchers on all the time. At first, I hobbled down the sidewalk. I could hear the cat calls and the laughs. They could tell I was not very graceful in the damn things. I had to learn. Period. My nights would last until 2 in the mornings sometimes. I slept in late and came in around 10 every morning. I was meeting the local hustlers and ?She males?. They were Transsexuals who didn?t have the money to complete their operations. They had to work as prostitutes or ?Hustlers? to make money to live and save for the operation. These were not happy souls. Mostly sad individuals. I was being recognized as a regular. My life became bar hopping in dressed mode at night and working the pawn shop scam during the day. Hilga didn?t like the bar scene. She gave me advice, and instructed me on how to do things. She didn?t party with me. I can understand why. She had left that scene. She was trying to make a new life. She was a woman now. Not a Drag queen or TV. She was trying to keep that image. And she was good at it. So good that most of the staff of the local Memphis FBI office didn?t know about her. Some did. But they had promised to keep their mouths shut and not gossip. One night, I decided to dress as one of the hustlers. I got the Black spandex mini dress and the fishnets and the outrageous platform 6? heels out. I took my favorite big blond wig and picked it out. I was going outrageous. So, I pulled out the DD?s. When I was done, I looked like a hustler. I looked like I had a ?for sale? sign on my back. I also looked real. My hair covered my shoulders and my hands had long fingernails. I was hot to trot. I parked off Union Ave. and walked to the club. It was after 10 and I felt fairly good in the corset and the heels. I was in the grove. I got hit on right away. ?Honey, looking hot tonight.? Came one of the locals. ?Looking for action?? He asked. ?Actually, I am meeting some of the girls and we are going to raid a party or two tonight. I?m not looking for action. Just visiting.? The guy wouldn?t go away. ?It?s a shame to see a hot thing like you sitting by yourself. Mind if I sit and visit?? The guy wouldn?t go away. But, after a while, one of the local Hustlers came up and sat at the table. Lisa was her name. I started a conversation. ?Lisa, honey, this nice gentleman seems to be looking for action. You in the mood to help him out?? Lisa looked at me and laughed. ?Sure honey, any time. But you look like your on duty. Just partying huh?? I smiled. ?I am meeting a group of girls tonight.? I sat there for another 5 minutes, drinking a cup of coffee. Lisa and her John were gone and I was by myself. I was nervous tonight. There were things going on in this bar. I was uneasy. For some reason, I reached into my purse and pulled out the little 380 which I used as a backup gun. It had no serial numbers. It was what was known as a drop gun. I tucked it into my crotch with the safety on. My gut was really uneasy. I noticed four guys walk in the bar. They were wearing the classic overcoats. I saw the outline of a sawed off shotgun. Bingo, here we go. I looked to the back of the bar, and sure enough, both exits were covered. Who were they after? No one knew I was there. This was some kind of hit. But, with shotguns, they didn't care who they got, just as long as they got their target. I assessed my position. I had a 380 with a full clip and two spares. If I took out the front guys, the back guys would still have killing range over the bar. No win situation. I would wait. On the first shot, I would duck and cover. I would make no move till a shot was fired. I had no choice. The next few minutes were agony. The guys were obviously looking for someone. I was just sitting there, looking pretty. I even smiled at one of the men. I even got a smile back. But, he continued looking around. They moved to a wall. They just sat down and waited. This was a hit. People came and left. They were not stopping anyone from leaving. The cell phone was in my reach. I have always kept it in vibrate mode. I didn?t like a ringing phone to announce my presence on a stakeout. I took my bag and my gun, stuffed them out of sight, and made for the ladies room. I even had to wait in front of one of the guys. I got good looks at all of them. Unfortunately, they got a real good look at me in the black mini. Not good. Inside the ladies one holer, I hit the Secret tactical emergency phone number. An operator answered. ?This is Reggie Star. I am undercover. I think there is going to be a hit or shooting in the bar at the corner of Danny Thomas and Union. They seem to be waiting for someone. I am armed, but I am in deep cover and cannot reveal my position or take action until something happens. If shooting starts, I will have to react and then run. Please notify FBI agent Bob Carson and quietly get units in the area.? This operator was used to these kind of calls. I got an acknowledgment, and hung up. I went outside, and the guys were still there. I sat and watched. 2 minutes later, it got crazy. This group of guys with a couple of hustlers came in the bar and sat at a table. There was nothing unusual about them. Not in this place, after all, this was a hustler bar and She males and Drag Queens were all over the place. I noticed the 4 men took interest in the Group who just came in. They were circling the group. I expected action soon. One of the men quietly walked behind one of the group and stuffed the shotgun into their neck. I could not hear what was being said. It was just too noisy. Suddenly, another man came in the bar. Two of the guys turned and drew their weapons. Shit, automatic weapon fire. Windows, chairs, tables and people were flying around the room. The gunmen were leveling the group who had come in and the guy who just came in. Me, I was in the back, behind the crew. I hit the floor, crawled to the back of the bar, to the service area, and pulled my gun. People were being killed. I had to take my shots quickly. I took one guy out with a head shot. Then, one of them realized someone was behind them. He was in the process of turning around when I got him too. Another head shot. The front crew now knew I was there. I saw that I was in a very good position. Bullets started flying around me. I kept my cool and took aim at the guy with the machine gun. I took him out. But, I didn?t factor in the crew who came in last. They turned and opened fire on me. Now, everyone was shooting at me. Then, the sirens. The police finally were coming. They turned and ran. Me, I was covered in sawdust. I had been nicked, but, I wasn?t shot. I had glass all in my new wig. I had killed three of the four guys, even with automatic weapons and shotguns. Thank god for metal sinks. That was the reason I managed to survive these kinds of odds. The police got there. I wiped down the weapon and ditched it in a toilet, and went outside with the other witnesses. The cops had a few bodies. Many of the bystanders were shot and some were dead. The original target of the shooting, was dead. They had managed to hit their supposed target. I was the only trained witness to the whole thing. But I had to remain undercover. The FBI had ways to deal with this situation. I had to go underground for a while. Bob Carson arrived on scene and found me in the back of a patrol car hiding. I had been handcuffed and placed there by a couple of female officers. Several of the survivors had pointed me out before I could get away. These officers seemed to know that there was an insider in the joint. ?Reggie?? Bob questioned. ?Bob, get me out of here quick. I will tell you where I stashed the gun I was using, but I don?t need to be ID?ed right now.? Bob knew the drill. He knew that I would not have done what I had, except in extreme emergency. ?Bob, the gun is in the toilet tank in the Ladies room. It?s a throw a way. No serial numbers. Good job too. You won?t id it. Just tell the local where it is and that you had an undercover working the place. And get me the shit out of here!? Bob grabbed me and roughed me around, and placed me in his vehicle. I knew the drill and made a show of it. My purse was retrieved from the female officers. My fake ID was recovered and We got the hell out of there. ?JESUS, Reggie, what in the hell were you doing here.?? ?Bob, I was just working the locals. Doing my job. Nothing more. I spotted the hit going down and made a phone call. From the Ladies room I might add. I think I might have saved a few lives. But once the shooting started, I managed to take out 3 in-between automatic weapon and shotgun fire. It was getting sticky there for a little while. The sink behind the bar saved my ass.? I then calmed down enough to notice I was soaking wet with beer. I was behind the bar and a tank had been ruptured. I was soaked to the skin in beer. I stunk to high heaven. Bob realized my condition just as I did. ?Reggie, I will call Hilga. In the meantime, I got to take you to the apartment. I will need you to clean up, and come in. Got to get a statement.? Bob took me to the apartment. It was on the south side of town. Just before we got there, He tossed me my purse and a handcuff key. I got myself out of the handcuffs and he quickly stopped, and let me out of the car. I made a bee line for the door and not even realizing that I was in 6 inch heels, got up the stairs, and in my apartment in record time. I looked out the door, and noticed Bob was gone. Good, I needed to strip and clean up the stuff. I stripped everything off, and dumped everything in the washer. The pads needed to be soaked and then drip dried. My wig was a total mess. Shaking it out would take days. I took off the press on nails and got the handy wipes for removing my makeup. I had a nasty cut on my scalp and was bleeding, but, I knew it was just a cut. So, I addressed what I needed to do systematically. I then showered off the rest of the makeup and anything else I could get to. This was not the first time I had been in a situation like this. But, I was still shaking like a leave in a wind storm. I was naked and drying off when Hilga knocked on the door. ?Hi Hilga, Bob must have called you. I am glad to see you.? Hilga came in and looked around. She laughed. ?Just like a good queen, took care of the stuff first, then had the breakdown.? I realized just what she was talking about and broke into hysterical laughter. She had just pointed out that I was now a full fledged TV and thought like one. Not a realization I was prepared for. I took out a bra and some panty hose and some thongs and proceeded to put them on. Then I grabbed a pair of sweats. It was cool outside, thankfully, and then a pair of tennis shoes. My feet were going to kill me for this. I had been wearing my heels all night. The ride to the FBI office was a long one. A tape recorder was placed into my hands and I started rattling off what I had seen and done in the bar. I gave descriptions of everyone I had seen. I answered questions from Hilga about who went in what direction and who was their apparent targets. By the time we had arrived at the office, I had everything down and was answering questions. Bob met us down at the parking lot and I was escorted in a back way to the office. He took the tape recorder and listened to it. He took notes. He then started asking me follow-up questions. They were all minor details. ?Did I notice any of the patrons leaving as soon as the men came in?? My answer was no. Just people coming and going as normal. Everything appeared random. ?Did the men notice you?? My answer was yes. They had a good look. But they were staring at my tits and my ass. I only had momentary eye contact. ?Do you think they could identify you again if you wore different makeup or hair?? My answer was ?No way. You almost didn?t recognize me.? I had almost fooled Bob. Bob was convinced that this was some kind of gang related hit and not related to our operation. But, It was just too close to us. ?Reggie, I got your gun from the bathroom tank. Lucky thing you carry this kind of throw a way. We will take it from here. You have given us a pretty good picture of what happened in the bar tonight. Now go lay low. Go to work tomorrow and don?t go out for a couple of days.? I was thinking, cool, a couple of days off. I needed some sleep and relief from this corset and those damn heels. Little did I know that everything was going to break at once. -------------------------------------- I got the phone call the next day, that the club meeting would be the following weekend and could I come? I was bummed out, but, I knew this was the break. I had a day or two to get ready. I knew what I was going to do and how I was going to look. I was not doing the church lady! I had a nice pair of 4? heels and a nice pair of jeans and a top. That was what I was going to wear. Makeup would be street. I had everything laid out. I notified Bob that I had been contacted. Hilga was going to come by and check on me and see how I was doing. It had only been a day after I killed 3 thugs. I found out that I was being called a hero by the news media. But No one identified me. Even Lisa kept her mouth shut. Just for the record, 4 bystanders, my 3 thug kills, and the target thug had been killed. The rest were wounded or glass cut. It had been a miracle. ---------------------------------------- The pawn shop was running itself. I had a few repairs in and needed to attend to them. But otherwise, all was OK. The crew had heard through the cop grape vine what had happened and an undercover cop had saved the day. It only took one look at me to figure out who the undercover cop was. I had their respect. And I think they knew more of what was going on now. I was counting on that respect when I sprang the new phase of my operation. ---------------------------------------------- This was it, I was checking into the hotel where the meeting was being held. I had prepared and was already dressed. I was not going to let them see me as Reggie. I had picked my female name. It was Regina. I was not going to be one of those who made up those ridiculous names. I decided early to use Something simple. My fake ID had Smith on it. I was Regina Smith. My spare credit card had that name on it and my fake Driver?s license had a Memphis address on it. But, not the apartment. It was a drop box where mail and stuff was sent. We had to be careful. I went straight to the meeting room. Lisa was waiting for members to appear. Seemed that membership had fallen off. Only a hard-core group of members remained. I was the first to arrive. So me and Lisa had plenty of time to discuss who I was and why I wanted to join their little group. There was no mention of the murders. It wasn?t long before more people showed up. This was a Tri-ess group. NO Gay or TS members were allowed. This was confusing to me as, I figured these people needed all the help they could get. But I soon learned the reason for all this. Seems most of these men were married. Most of these men were trying to live dual lives. And make both work. They had to balance doing female stuff with having a wife and some, children. That is why they met at a hotel to keep the other world separate and secret. Seemed a waste to me. But, I was an outsider looking in. I was trying to fit in and appear to be what I looked like. Not an easy undertaking, but with my preparation, I managed to make a good show. This had to be the most boring meeting I have ever lived through. The group convened and talked about everything female. They talked about conventions. They talked about organization. They talked about stuff that was almost comical. But, it was serious business to these men. The meeting lasted for an hour and then the group was to go and eat in the hotel restaurant. Boring. They didn?t go out and do things. They just sat and looked at each other. I was looking at the members. They were all different classes. One class was rich and could afford little touches which made them look better. There were the ones who couldn?t pass with a paper bag over their head. There were the ones who could do better, but, couldn?t afford what it would take. Then, there were the ones who were serious and wanted to be women, but wasn?t going to admit it to the others. These were the ones on hormones. Then there were the fun loving ones who enjoyed being someone else and let things fly. I was in that category. After the first meeting, I was bored to tears. I asked where the members of the group partied. I was told, to my shock, the little bar at Union and Danny Thomas. Oh Shit! Well, it was bound to happen. I had no choice but to go. There sat Lisa, the hustler, with a prospective john. She recognized me immediately. Every queen in the joint made a bee line for me. They wanted to know what the hell happened and who the hell I was. I cooled my jets. I didn?t have a story. I was going to wing it. I was in trouble. I decided to use as much of the truth as possible. Lisa the hustler was talking to Lisa the Tri-ess president and the actions of the previous week were told. Lisa looked at me strangely. But she didn?t say a word. Well, it was time to tell the story. It went like this. ?Ladies, now listen, I don?t want to brag. I am not the kind. I own the pawn shop 4 miles down the road on Union. I am a gunsmith and repair person. So, I know guns and I know the type who carry them. I was just having coffee and people watching in the bar last week, and these goons came in. I spotted them right off, and made to the back of the bar. I carry a cell phone and I got to the ladies and called 911. I came back out and watched the group start to circle a group of people who came in. I smelled trouble. So I just hung lose. I didn?t want to announce to the world that I was carrying. So, I just hung back and waited.? Lisa the Hustler asked, ?What kind of gun were you carrying?? ?I had a cheep copy of a Walther PPK 380 which came in my shop. I noticed the gun had the serial number stripped and gave the idiot who came in the shop, 5 bucks for it. It served me well that night. Didn?t jam once.? I got back to the main story. ?When the shooting started, I dived behind the service area and took out the first goon with a head shot. Then, I got the other one. He had spotted me and I took him out too. The crew up front noticed me and opened up on me, but luckily, I had dived behind a metal sink. It shielded me from the automatic weapon fire. The one guy had to reload and I nailed him while he was changing clips. The guy with the shotgun, managed to pin me down, and just as he was closing in on me, Sirens started blaring.? Lisa the President was curious. ?Regina, how did you know to do what you did?? I smelled the bait. ?I am an ex cop.? She looked at me. ?Ex cop?? ?Yes, I got into trouble once, and they took my badge. I had a little money and opened a pawn shop. Been a Pawn dealer ever sense.? Lisa the President was really curious now. ?What did you do to get kicked out?? I was walking carefully here. I had to makeup something. Something that could be possibly verified. ?I broke the rules and shot a bank robber in the back. I could have arrested him, but I shot him instead. They had witnesses and they had my badge. I nev