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"Aaaaaaahhhhh!" The screaming drew nearer and nearer, the elevator closing all too slowly to drown out the shriek. The sound of several feet rapped against the cold hard floor, advancing against the dull steel door. Suddenly a hook is thrust into the narrow opening; there was a chill clank within the walls, stopping the breach from being sealed. Christopher drew back against the back wall of the small elevator, startled by the sudden stoppage, his eyes drawn to the invading hook, a silver hook of plastic. "Heywo Cwistopha!" the young boy attached to the hook said, as the door reopened, revealing the boy, and his shrieking sister coming up from behind. The black patch on his head covered one of his innocent blue eyes, his sandy brown hair covered by a pirate hat. "Argh!" "Pirate Captain Timothy Borden!" Christopher proclaimed, "Scourge of the Seven seas!" He knelt down to look at the invading buccaneer as the child flipped up the eye patch with his hook free hand. "You look fantastic Timothy!" he said, as the child beamed. A fairy princess dashed into the lift, as her screaming stopped. The adorable child with flowing blond curls that nearly covered her 'diamond' tiara rushed forward and hugged the young man as he knelt. "Hi!" she squealed, releasing her grip and picking up her plastic wand, her fluffy white dress clearly in the way of seeing her ruby red Mary Janes. "Britney! Don't you look pretty!" Christopher said with an admiring grin. He had always adored these children, having taken care of them on several occasions since their birth. He was a good friend with their mother, having met her in the lobby a few years ago. Unfortunately, due to recent events, he would never see her again. 'Poor children' he said to himself. Still down at eye level of the children, he looked out, past the elevator door, into the marble floored lobby. In strode the smiling figure of manhood. The style of the Italian suit covered by the Camel wool coat paled in comparison to the chiseled jaw and deep brown eyes. His stride confident despite the recent loss of his wife, Jonathan Borden entered the elevator his son so conveniently stopped. Mr. Borden smiled at his two children as they stood proudly in their Halloween costumes. The large metal door finally shut, followed by a soft 'ding.' Christopher politely stood back up, yet he was still looking up at the distinguished gentleman. His stature of over 6 feet tall towered over Christopher's 5 feet 7. Quietly the sharply dressed man spoke, raising one eyebrow, "I know you, don't I?" Christopher held his hand out properly, ready to shake hands as he answered, "Um, yes, I'm Christopher Hanson. I'm a friend of your wife's." The pepper-haired man nodded, grasping the outstretched hand firmly. "So, that's why the kids know you." "Yeah, I used to watch them a lot when Kristen went out." The two hands separated, each dropping to their sides, only to have Britney grab both of them. "I, uh, am sorry to hear..." he stuttered, unable to finish the sentence about Kristen Borden. "Yeah," he replied softly, the confidence draining from his shoulders, "Thank you..." An awkward silence developed, as the elevator rose, the lights blinking for each floor passed. "Aye, ye matey!" yelled Timothy, as the swinging of the plastic sword and hacking with the false hook broke the silence. Britney squealed in fear and delight. "They, uh, had dress up at school today" the mid-30's husband stated, as the lift slowed, coming to a complete stop on the 9th floor. "We'll be trick or treating later, right kids?" he said squeezing his daughter's hand. The two screamed in stereo "YEA!" as the door slid open. Timothy swung his sword back and forth with gusto, running into the hallway. "Tim! Wrong floor pal!" the father said, holding tightly the small hand in his, preventing Tim's younger sister from following him. Christopher smiled, as Britney had released his hand in a vain attempt to run. He gently sidestepped the man and his daughter, only to be crashed into by the runaway pirate. "Ow! Whoa there buccaneer!" Christopher said, rubbing his shin. "Sorry about that," said Mr. Borden, strength returning to his posture. "That's okay," Christopher replied. The young man jumped back in as he stepped out, a familiar ding sounded. "Well, nice to have met you. Take care kids." The distinguished gentleman nodded as the door closed, muffling the screaming good-byes from the kids. Christopher smiled as he turned towards his door and the elevator continued up to the penthouse. Opening the door to his small studio apartment his expression turned grim, thinking about Kristin, about what had happened to her, and those poor children. *** Christopher Hanson loved Halloween. Ever since he was a small child, the opportunity to dress up as something he wasn't brought an extreme level of glee. As he grew older, his desire to dress up changed from career roles, to gender roles. This time of year afforded him the best opportunity to express his inner desires openly, without the chance of ridicule. It has taken him many years to attain the necessary items to enact a perfect transformation. He wan't poor, yet the items to make his female personae real had not been cheap. Slowly, over time, he gradually gained the perfect ingredients. He softly smiled as he stepped out of the tub, his skin soft and smooth from the delicate water. His meager size and non-masculine build always eased the transformation. His narrow shoulders and his slightly wider hips made excessive padding unnecessary. He toweled himself dry, brushing back the light brown hair. His hair wasn't long, but did hang in his eyes, requiring him to constantly run his hand through it. "Now, what to wear for Halloween..." he said aloud, as he made his way from the bathroom into the only other room in the apartment. The larger room was cramped, with clothes strewn about and books on the floor. His job at the theatre helped pay the bills, but finishing his degree in business was his next priority. Before he even looked for a costume he had to get into character. He navigated his way across the sea of clothes to his desk and mirror. There he wrapped the towel around his waist and began to apply talc to his upper body. He reached into the lone closet and pulled out the headless torso of a woman. Immediately the towel began to be constrictive. The flesh colored torso had no legs, and was sleeveless, like that of a high neck leotard bodysuit. He squeezed the soft, foam-like rubber in his fingers, while his maleness grew harder. The towel began to protrude outward. Carefully he removed the extraordinary garment from the hanger. He was always amazed at how the neck stretched so wide yet always returned to its original size. While sitting down, he carefully slipped both legs into the elastic neck hole, sliding the remarkable garment up his legs. His feet found the holes on the bottom, as he placed them back on the ground. The bikini style cut of the torso gently slid into place, the slight padding on the false derri?re perfectly rounding out his wide, yet non-feminine backside. Before pulling the upper torso over his, he slid his right hand into the right arm opening, allowing his hand to reach inside. With practiced ease he carefully slide his growing erection into a special sleeve that fully caressed the entire shaft. He nearly lost control right there. Christopher stared at the ceiling as he attempted to control his breathing, and his thoughts. Images of him dressed as a woman raced through his head, causing him further penile distress, when unexpectedly thoughts of a man started creeping in. Vividly the image of Jonathan Borden invaded his dreams. He nearly lost all control before squeezing hard and thinking about school. The uniquely attired figure slumped in the chair, having avoided an extremely erotic explosion. "Hmm, never had thoughts of him before..." he whispered to himself, "Though he is an extremely handsome man..." Pulling himself together, figuratively, and then literally, he slid his arms into the stretched neck hole, lifting up the rubber up over his shoulders. The large firm breasts settled perfectly onto his hairless chest, fitting comfortably from the talcum powder. The remarkable neck shrunk back down, snuggly encircling his neck, with the edge becoming nearly invisible. Christopher stood up, admiring his form in the full-length mirror on the back of bathroom door. Tenderly he smoothed out any visible wrinkle, every edge nearly disappearing. All he needed to do was apply a little body makeup, and the figure of an extremely attractive female would be standing in the midst of the mess, female except for his head. Blinking twice at his reflection, the image of his head on the luscious female form made him giggle. Walking on his toes, he reached into the top shelf of his closet, removing a large, upright box. Carefully peeling open the lid, he pulled out an emotionless head with auburn hair. He sat back down at the desk and mirror, holding the head in his hands. "Alas, poor Yorick, I knew her well..." Christopher spoke, playfully misquoting Shakespeare. Smirking, he placed the head with the vacant eyes down, and began his final act of transformation. First, sliding open the top drawer of the desk, he pulled out a small box. Holding it in his left hand, while lifting the hinged lid with his right, he questioned, "Hmm, what color eyes do I want tonight?" A few moments later, the brown in his eyes were gone, replaced with radiant emerald green contacts. Then he slicked his hair back with some gel, and stretched a bald cap over his head. "I should really just shave my head," he said, tucking the loose strands of hair up underneath. "If I were do this for any length of time, I probably would." After wiping his hands clean, he deftly pulled the latex head free from its stand, carefully setting the auburn wig aside. Stretching out the similarly elastic neck, he pulled it over his clean head, aligning the features with his own. With his eyes closed, he began to press the mask into place, the perfectly conformed lining adhering to his male facial appearance. He pulled at the neck of the body suit once more, tucking the neck of the headpiece inside, hiding the last remnant of the mask. Slowly he lifted his head to gaze into the mirror. Seated there was a bald goddess. The face was without makeup, yet was a natural beauty. His reflection blinked in unison with him, the corners of the mouth smiled at each other. He moved his mouth and eyes, testing the appliance for connection and adhesion. The inside was lined with a sticky rubber, holding quite firmly to the warm skin. Soon, the thin layer of talc which aided in slipping on the bodysuit, would eventually give way to the interior lining, making the whole false body features move as one with the host. Thoroughly pleased with the current appearance, he proceeded to apply his makeup before donning the shoulder length wig. First he hid the body seams, like he has been doing for years, then, he addressed his attractive face. Carefully he applied the base and powder, and then progressed to his eyes. Picking the perfect shadow, he lightly dusted the eyes, and then lined them expertly. He always appreciated the naturally long eyelashes he inherited from his late mother, as he brushed them out gracefully with mascara. The false pout lips, already a natural pink, looked naked next to the made-up face. Picking luscious reddish brown lip cover, he swirled the cosmetic skillfully over the wanton lips, then pressed them together. Lining the edges with a slightly darker shade, he playfully blew his reflection a kiss, and smiled. Picking up the natural colored tresses, he applied a thin layer of adhesive to the inside. Keeping it secure to his naked scalp is quite important in maintaining the illusion. After giving the glue a moment to set, he carefully pulled it over his head. Cautiously removing his hands from his head, the luxurious hair remained in place. Satisfied, he quickly shook his head left to right, the hair flipping back and forth; it held fast. Standing up, he stepped in front of the mirror once more. "Now, what to wear for Halloween?" He heard voices in the hall, as kids from next door went racing down to the elevator. Twirling his head, he could feel the soft hair tickle is bare neck. Turning back, he noticed the small bruise on his leg left by his pirate encounter earlier that afternoon. "Hmm, perhaps I should go as a Nurse." Before striding over his closet yet again, he turned on the television, breaking the silence. Not paying much attention to the channel, as he was just seeking the companionship of noise, he pulled out a classic, white nurse's uniform. "The outlook for tonight should be clear and cool, allowing that full moon to shine brightly, with temperatures in the upper 50's..." squawked the television, with the handsome weatherman wearing a Lone Ranger mask. "Good," Christopher said to himself, "no fun walking around the village when it's too hot or too cold." He never looked at the glowing box, as he slid the opaque white hose up his legs; the smooth, tight-feeling felt wonderful against his skin. "This just in..." Christopher was finished pulling up the tight white nylons, and proceeded to slip his firm breasts into a glamorous white brassiere. "William McHenry, the suspect in the murder of Kristin Borden, has escaped from the detention facility in the Bronx..." The auburn hair swished quickly over his shoulders again, this time he never felt it. "Escaped?" "As was reported last week, William McHenry, a maintenance worker at the lower Manhattan high-rise in which the Borden family resides, was arrested in connection to the disappearance, and apparent homicide of Kristin Borden, the wife of businessman Jonathan Borden..." Christopher sunk down on his lone chair, concern showing clearly through his false complexion. He stared at the anchorman on the small screen. "Human remains were found in the large furnace of the building, a furnace that McHenry had full access to. Channel 4 News has discovered that William McHenry has several prior accounts of assault and robbery on his record though he maintains he is innocent..." Christopher's eyes were affixed to the screen. "Police have warned that he is to be considered armed and dangerous. If anyone sees this man, please call 911..." The mug shot of a grungy looking male in his late thirties filled the screen. Christopher peered closer to the illuminated image, gathering in the facial information. The thinning-haired man owned a cold stare, seemingly looking right into Christopher eyes, knowing full well what was behind that beautiful mask he wore. A cold chill ran down Christopher's back; he shuddered. Suddenly there was a knock on his lonesome door. Pressing his chest with his right hand as he sat straight up, he inhaled a short, desperate gasp of air. "TRICK OR TREAT!" came the screaming voices from the other side. The half attired young lady let out a deep sigh, realizing he was only frightened by little goblins on this all hallows night. "One moment..." he said aloud with his practiced feminine tone. Quickly he grabbed the white uniform, pulling it over his head, letting it wiggle down to his hips. He zipped up the back only part way, unable to reach the upper half easily. Stumbling over the mess, he picked up the dish near the door with the bite-size treats, and peered out the peephole. Looking out, he barely could see the pirate hat and blond curls at the bottom of the fish-eye lens. Smiling a great smile, he unlatched the bolt lock, and twisted the handle. "Trick or Treat!" shrieked the small masqueraders. "My, my what do we have here?" the young nurse said, leaning over to look at the little guests, using the middle finger of her right hand to corral the hair behind her right ear. "I'm a piwate!" screamed the young man. "Argh!" "Pwincess!" squealed the blond haired angel. "A fairy princess," came a velvet male voice off to the right. Still bent over, the young lady turned her head sideways to see the costumed kids' companion. Jonathan Borden stepped forward to stand right behind his little fairy princess, placing his strong hand lovingly on her head. Christopher stood back up, admiring the father with different eyes from earlier that afternoon. The elder male waved his right hand in greeting. "Jonathan Borden, these are my children, Timothy and Britney." "Trick or Treat!" came the chorus from the adults' waists. Smiling at each other, then at the kids, Christopher held out the candy filled dish. "Okay, now let's be fair," the white clad woman said to the young Borden's. His eyes left the children's glowing faces to look at their father as he continued, "We have to make sure there's enough for all monsters looking for treats." The little ones politely grabbed one piece each as the two taller individuals continued to look into each other's eyes. Realizing he was staring at Jonathan, he blinked as his head shuddered briefly, breaking him from his enamored trance. "I'm sorry, Chris, Chris ...Yorick." He smiled an attractive smile outward for the visitor, but was beaming on the inside as the realization that Mr. Borden has no idea that they had met only a few hours earlier. The two shook hands as the children screamed thank you and ran off down the hall. They could hear them scream "Trick or Treat!" to their next victims as they knocked on the door. "So, coming or going?" the gentleman said. "Excuse me?" the young lady said. "Well, I figure you're a nurse," he said with a smile, "and, well, not to be too forward, I noticed the zipper on your uniform wasn't all the way up." Chris held a playfully smug look on her perfectly feminine face. "So, you're either coming home from the hospital, or just about to leave," he finished. "Oh, I'm not..." Chris caught himself. He was about to confess that he wasn't a nurse, but decided to allow Jonathan to believe his intuition was correct. He continued, "...Going to work, I'm, uh, just getting home." "Plans for the evening? It is Halloween after all," he pried, as his eyes subtly looked down and then back up his verbal companion. "Well, nothing really planned," Chris said, as he stood in a welcoming posture. The hidden erection that waned during the news update grew stiff once again. "I have a few options..." "Well," the handsome man spoke, "There is this little office masquerade party uptown..." "Oh..." Chris playfully responded. "And, I was wondering if you would care to accompany me to this little function, if I may be little forward." "Masquerade party? Let's see, I may have run out and get costume. What about you? You have a... mask?" Chris said with a slight tone of seduction. "Actually, I have something quite heroic. I attained it several weeks ago, very authentic, didn't think I would actually get a chance to wear it..." his voice trailed off, a clear reference to his wife's demise. "Well, I don't know..." Chris replied, batting her long, full lashes. "It'll allow me to escape reality a little while, a departure from my real life, so to speak." Chris could sense the yearning in his words, a desire to feel alive and free, albeit for one night. "Okay, you're on," the nurse gave in; hiding the extremely little effort it took to say yes. "But you have to give me a hint as to whom you are going as." "Let's just say, I'll be a caped crusader for justice," the grown man said with exaggeration, placing his fists on his hips, and striking a pose. "Oh, I see..." the attractive Ms. Yorick replied. Turning to her right, looking at the 'hero' over her left shoulder, the hair covering half her face, she said demurely, "I'll have to find something... villainous." Now it was Mr. Borden's turn to have movement below the waist. The nurse's physical profile was perfect. Her firm breasts perfectly counterbalanced her derriere, hinged together by a narrow, sexy waist. His slacks began to be uncomfortable. Suddenly the moment was shattered by wails of a fairy princess. "Daddy! Tim gwabbed twoo peeses!" she said, tugging on those ever-tightening pants. "Did nawt!" screamed the pirate from behind. "Okay, okay, enough." The man rolled his eyes as Chris just smiled. "I think somebody's tired." Once again he turned his attention to his proposed companion for the evening. "Here," he said, pulling his wallet, easing the tightness around his hips, "Here's my Amex. Go, find something a villainess would wear." "Oh, I couldn't," she stated, refusing to accept the card. "I insist," he said, persistently holding out the plastic towards her. "Don't worry about it. Money is no object. I'm sure you can find something suitable to wear." Overjoyed with the prospect of a magical night out, offering her the ultimate fantasy, she reached out and took the card, gently passing her fingertips over his palm. "I'll try my best not to disappoint you," she said, conniving. "If you even just show up in a Nurse's uniform, I'll be..." shifting a little to allow his erection to point skyward, "ecstatic." Chris noticed the growing bulge as the hero lovingly picked up his young ward, and held her in his arms. After whispering in his daughter's ear, he turned his attention to Chris once more, as Timothy ran for the elevator. "It's six thirty now, how's nine o'clock sound," Jonathan said, looking at his gold Rolex. Chris was trying to see his pants hiding behind Britney's ankle. "Um," she said, her hands grasping the plastic card behind her back. Britney lowered her head onto her father's shoulder as she swung her feet back and forth. Chris was impressed when her little foot kept hitting the hidden hard appendage, and Jonathan never flinched. "Nine is just fine. Shall we meet, say, in the lobby?" "Nine o'clock, in the lobby, see you then." "C'mon Dad! 'vator is here!" The elder Mr. Borden turned to join his son, but Chris reached out and touched his arm. "Could you do me a favor?" she said innocently. The man stopped and turned towards her. Turning her backside towards the hallway, she gently tilts her head, motioning to her zipper. "Would you mind?" Smirking, Mr. Borden let his daughter down, freeing his hands for the task at hand. The fairy princess took off down the hall, as Jonathan took a step towards the door. Placing his left hand gently on her shoulder, he grasped the small tab and pulled the zipper all the way down, revealing the top of her nylons. Chris could see Jonathan's reflection in the mirror, as the man clearly adjusted his male member, as his hand trailed off her shoulder. Chris smiled a seductive smile. "Dad! C'mon!" came a familiar scream from down the hall. Turning back around, Chris held up the front of the nurses uniform with her left hand, clenching the door handle with her right. Mr. Borden took a moment before backing up from the young woman's personal space. "Nine o'clock, then... Jonathan?" "Nine o'clock." He replied. Smiling, he turned and headed down the hall, heading towards his awaiting children. "What a wonderful man," Chris said to himself. "Those kids are lucky to have a father like that." Slowly he closed the door, pressing closed with his back, and locking it while in a daze. "Ooh, I've got some shopping to do," she said snapping out of it, as the television still spoke. "Again, our top story tonight, the suspected killer of Kristin Borden is still on the loose..." *** The cool autumn air felt invigorating as it crept up her wool skirt. The tan skirt clung tautly to her false hips. The pressure it held below her navel was exciting. Christopher walked down the street, with each high-heeled step the nylon covered thighs brushed against each other, his erect member sliding back and forth behind his female anatomy. This smile would never leave his lips. He admired himself in the large pane of glass in front of a small gallery under the light of the full moon. The tight black turtleneck sweater securely held every curve of her breasts. The knee-high black boots sexily enveloped her calves, the four-inch heel adding to the length of her legs, the height causing a distinguishable sway in her hips. Her hair was pulled back in a soft ponytail, revealing small gold hoops attached to her ears. After checking her lipstick with her pinky finger of her black leather-gloved hand, she continued on her way. The village is a great place to be, especially at this time of year. Masqueraders of all kinds walked about, yet it was still early for the main events. Parties were set to occur all across the borough, but Chris was going to a certain one tonight, and first she needed a costume. The bell on the door chimed innocently as Chris entered the small shop. The nearby shop wasn't really a costume shop, but more a shop of the adult variety. The shop was empty of occupants save the cute, well-endowed salesgirl behind the counter reading a comic book. "Good evening miss, can I help you?" The booted woman stepped up to the counter, "Yes, I hope so." The buxom salesgirl stepped out, wearing tight leather pants, with fire red boots. The black Ozzy t- shirt strained against her chest. She swished her long, straight black hair to one side, her pale skin in direct contrast to her blood red lips. Looking down, Chris noticed the spread open comic lying on the counter, recognizing the black-clad hero on the pages. "Yes, I need the items to be his nemesis", pointing down to the multicolored pages. "Hmm," said the raven-haired girl with a devious smile. "I have just the things. What size are you?" After a few minutes of trial and error, the compilation was complete. The shop employee had wrapped up all the items, and placed them in two large shopping bags. Chris stood there, in his high heels, trembling with excitement. Thoughts nearly took control of his yearning loins, dreaming about his endearing costume and the effect it would have. Pressing up against the counter with his hips seemed to only make control that much harder; he took a deep breath and took half a step back. "Okay," said the voluptuous girl, "That'll be two hundred and nineteen dollars and fifty-three cents." Breathing in deeply to regain control, Chris reached into her purse and produced the gold American Express card. The clerk's long red nails picked the card from her outstretched hand, and began the process. She engaged in conversation as the transaction cleared. "So, all you need is a long, dark- haired wig, and you'll be all set." "Oh, I have one," Chris lied. He would have to stop at the theatre where he worked on the way back, and pick one up there. The theatre's wigs were quite good, and no one would miss one, not for tonight. "Well then, you're all set." Pulling out the tape, she placed it on the counter along with a pen. "Just sign here please...Jonathan Borden," she said, looking at the name on the card. "That's funny, you don't look like Jonathan." "I'm sorry?" Chris responded. "Well, you don't look like Mr. Borden," smirked the sales girl. "Oh, well, he, uh..." "Don't worry," the clerk comforted, "around here, as long as the sale goes through, we don't care whose name is on the slip." Chris took a moment and figured the best name he could put down was Chris Yorick, since the person really didn't exist. She grabbed the pen, and with a flourish, signed her alias. The sales girl couldn't help but notice the woman's hands. "Y'know sweetie. You really should get those nails done." The girl pulled her bag up from behind the counter, and dug inside. "Here," handing Chris a business card, "around the corner is this nail salon. Tell them Tanya sent you." Chris read the card as the girl continued, "They'll have them fixed up in no time," she waved her hand at Chris. "And If you're gonna have the night I think you're gonna have," nodding at the bags on the counter, "you're gonna want those nails done, for his back, if you know what I mean." Chris's head remained down as she peered up, looking at the clerk through her long lashes. An evil grin crossed her face as the thought of a physical encounter entered her mind. Up until this point, the charade was external; suddenly the possibility of this turning 'internal' excited him. Her arousal grew immense; she was convinced the sales girl could see the bulge in the front of her skirt. "Thank you, thank you so much," she said genuinely, once again stuffing the gold card into her purse. Chris figured he had time to stop there before hitting the theatre, getting him home by eight thirty or so. "Tonight is going to be wonderful!" he said to himself. "Have a good time," the girl said as she winked, knowing full well what the costume would do for a woman, and to a man. She watched as the woman exited the shop, the bell once again letting out a jingle. The clerk raised her eyebrows and nodded as the woman turned to her left, towards the nail salon, as a police car roared up the road, sirens blaring. "She's gonna have a night to remember, that's for sure." *** The television was still on when Chris opened the door. "Crap, I left with the TV on!" The clock read eight twenty two as he turned and bolted the lock. "We now return to tonight's Halloween feature, 'The Bride of the Werewolf'..." The young "woman" watched the glowing box for a moment, then came to his senses realizing he had only so much time. "Thirty-seven minutes, hmm," the false young woman said, placing the bags on the already covered futon. "It may take a little longer than that, but for him, it'll be worth the wait." He giggled as he quickly stripped off his clothes. Stepping out of his skirt and pulling off his sweater, he stood there in a black, sleeveless bodysuit, and his high-heeled boots. He still wore the black leather gloves from outside, never taking then off in his excitement. Confidently he strode in front of the full-length mirror. Sticking out his false chest, he placed his hands on his sexy hips, striking a heroic pose. "Wow, all I have to do is find a black mask, and I'd look like a super heroine right now!" He pirouetted in place, admiring his firm ass perfectly trapped inside the tight fabric. The heels made his legs go on forever, his hair flowing seductively over half his face. He pressed both hands against the front of his hips; he could feel his erection against the pressure. He nearly lost it again, but quickly regained control. Breathing steady, he glanced at his reflection again, "I may look like a superhero, but not tonight, tonight I'm to be the super villainess!" Letting out an exaggerated evil laugh, Chris twirled around on his right toe and headed to the desk. Seated, he removed the luscious leather boots from each stockinged leg and placed them in their box and back in the closet. Christopher's clothes were lying around, that was okay, but Chris's were a different matter. He carefully removed the gloves from his newly manicured hands, the bright red polish shown brightly against his skin. He had played with artificial nails before, but these were much more permanent, plus a bit longer than he was ever used to. He said to himself, "This will be a challenge to get dressed with these nails." Standing back up, he unsnapped the crotch of the body suit, pulling it up and over his auburn hued head. He promptly placed it back in the top drawer of his dresser. Then carefully he plunged his two thumbs behind the waistband of the tight nylons he wore. Shifting back and forth, he removed the stretchy material from his legs, proud to not have punctured a hole in them with his sensual nails. He stood there naked once more, a sensuous female with wonderful curves, preparing for a wonderful night. There was one last thing to remove. Pulling a pair of latex surgical gloves from the bottom desk drawer, he went to the bathroom with a small bottle in his hand. Careful not to ruin the finish on his nails, he stretched the gloves onto his hands, and poured some of the contents of the bottle on his fingertips. Rubbing his fingertips together, he gently massaged the solvent into his scalp, loosening the delicate tresses from his head. The adhesive was particularly difficult to remove, but Christopher knew that he usually didn't attempt to do this until the next day; the glue was still too fresh. After a determined few moments, the wig finally came free from his smooth head. After cleaning up the residue, he thoroughly dried the latex sheath over his own head, and prepared to apply a darker shade of hair. Picking up the hairpiece he had retrieved from his job, he carefully brushed out the wavy dark hair. It was longer than the auburn mane he had just removed, and was anxious to wear them. He once more applied adhesive to the interior of a wig, and precisely pulled the locks onto his naked head. "You must be careful, it's a full moon outside..." the Victorian dressed character said on the television. Waiting for the glue to set, Christopher turned his gaze to the box 'speaking' to him. He sat down once again drawn to the old time horror movie. "You see, it's late at night that the beast comes out..." The screen showed the interior of an ancient castle, the large grandfather clock chiming with each character's glance. The image showed a close up of the clock's face as it chimed midnight, snapping Christopher out of his self-induced trance. "Shit! I've got like ten minutes!" Jumping up, his breasts bounced naturally with the sudden movement. Leaping over to the couch, his longer hair danced off his shoulders and cascaded down his back. He moved with normal grace, as the rubber bodysuit had fully adhered to his skin. Every turn he made gave no indication of falseness anywhere. Clearing off the couch of any other remaining articles, he deftly removed the contents of each shopping bag. He knew to pull off this impersonation correctly, no undergarments of any kind would be allowed. Thankfully his pert breasts didn't really need any extra support to stand out proud. Laying out the black leather items to the side, he first grabbed the soft, smooth piece of purple clothing. Flipping the attached hood back, he unzipped the front of the outfit, down to where his navel would eventually reside. Opening up the one-piece outfit, his skin tingled in anticipation. Gathering the left leg of the suit in his hands, he slipped it over his left foot, the stirrup holding on to his arch. Slowly releasing the lush fabric as his hands rocked back and forth as they climbed, the ultra-tight fabric clung to his legs, gently caressing every curve. Upon reaching his knee, he repeated the process on his right leg. Standing up, the fabric only got tighter as he reached his hips. The purple spandex fit tighter than his own skin, leaving little to the imagination. Continuing on, with excitement, he pulled it over his firm derriere, supporting everything and proudly displaying his female mound in front. Behind that mound raged his manhood, throbbing with exhilaration. Struggling to ignore his arousal, he persisted onward, pulling the enticing textile wine over his waist, stopping only to slide his arms into the appropriate purple sheaths. Bringing his arms forward, the cat suit began to close, his naked breasts the only body part left exposed as they thrust forward. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror once again. It was hard to believe that a young man lay underneath this sensual feminine skin. He tugged at the tight spandex, pulling over each breast as he slowly zipped up the cleavage-producing opening. Leaving the tab between his breasts, a large crevice remained highly visible. He smiled evilly as he thought of the effect it would have on his companion in just a few minutes. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed the black and white image, once again spurring him into action. Shaking his wavy raven locks about, he gathered them up, swiftly restraining them in a ponytail. Strutting his way back to the couch, he unzipped the inside of the left, thigh-high boot. The supple black leather felt like butter as he pressed his left foot inside. Guiding the shaft up and over his knee, he pulled the zipper, watching the kidskin contour itself to his leg. The height of the boots he wore earlier paled in comparison to his new acquisition. The five-inch heel forced his foot to point completely vertical, his toes making a nearly ninety-degree turn when reaching the floor. Seated on the sofa, he extended his leather-encased leg outward and upward, admiring the flattering coverage, twisting left and right. Gravity fighting his extension, he lowered his new boot and slipped his right foot inside it's twin. Moments later he stood up, wobbly at first, in heels higher than he had ever worn before. His perspective had definitely changed, looking down from a higher height. He ran his hand over the sheer fabric, his skin prickling with energy under his fingertips. His knees and ankles wobbled as his palms passed over his female mound, fighting back the temptation to erupt. "You see! It's in the darkest hour ..." Noticing the clock as he caressed himself, the long hand revealed a mere three minutes until nine o'clock. Stepping precariously back over to the desk, he sat as he looked into the mirror. Picking up his mane, he fed it through the hole in the back of the hood, allowing his hair to flow freely as he pulled the cloth over his head. The hood reached back over his forehead and down to the top of his nose, as he leaned his head backward. Pulling his head back up, two large eyeholes permitted his enticing emerald eyes to shine through, as two small peaks of purple above his ears pointed upwards. The opening of the hood followed his cheekbones, down to his neck as he pulled the zipper up the remainder of its track, all the way to right below his exposed chin. "...In the light of the full moon..." Smiling broadly as he brushed out the flowing hair, admiring the seduction he oozed. Quickly applying a dark shade of lipstick, he glanced at the shiny red nails on the tips of his fingers. It was time to cover them up. Bounding up after puckering for his reflection, he reached for the last of the items from the nearby shop. The soft leather gloves, identical to the thigh boots, melted in his hands. He gently stretched them over his outstretched arm, each finger finding its own snug pocket. The full-length leather hugged his forearm, past his elbow, up to his bicep. He quickly slid the other on, making his transformation nearly complete. One quick glance in the mirror confirmed he was ready to 'kill.' The purple and black clad villainess floated across the room, ready to leave, just before turning around. "Oops, almost forgot," he purred, reaching for the last item of the couch. Grasping the handle in his black-covered hand, the other end of the leather bullwhip slithered to the floor. Thinking about turning off the television with a crack of the whip, he thought better and curled up the weapon. "...It is then that the creature's true self is revealed..." Stuffing the whip into the top of the boot, he also fetched the gold card from his purse. The tight gloves provided no hindrance, the leather acting like his skin. Retrieving his own door key from his ring, he turned off the television as it gave one final accented tone. "...So be careful out there." Smiling, he pressed the knob with the pointed end of his forefinger, causing the screen to go black. Stepping out the door, he looked both ways before slipping his key under the mat. He strutted down the hallway, his hips swaying sexually back and forth, the heels allowing no other way to walk. He pressed the button and stepped into the elevator. He smiled as the silver door shut, for he was no longer a he. He was a she, and she was Catwoman. *** The newly crowned feline of mischief stepped out of the elevator with catlike grace. Her 'tail' swung back in forth as she was now on the prowl. Standing off to the left, with his back towards her, stood a man in a black cape and pointed ears. "Meow," she said, eyeing up her prey, as the masked man turned around. Standing seductively, the caped crusader walked towards her, unafraid of the consequences. The black armor he wore couldn't hide the fact of his broad shoulders, and confident walk, the same walk she saw in the lobby that afternoon. "Looking for trouble?" the Batman said with mock seriousness. "Ooooo, what did you have in mind?" Chris said, coming forward, draping herself across his large chest. "Well, I could use the bat cuffs," he said, pulling the metal links from a pouch on his bright yellow utility belt. "Sounds purrrrrrfect!" she said with a delectable relish. Chris let out a giggle as the brooding hero exposed a huge grin. He reached over and kissed the extraordinary woman on her cheek. His codpiece grew instantly tight. "You look absolutely incredible!" he spouted. "Whatever the cost, it was well worth it." "Thank you," she said demurely, shaking her hair over her shoulders. "So, shall we go?" he asked, with a stoic yet playful face. He motioned with his black-gloved hand, ushering her forward towards the door. She smiled, and sashayed past the man dressed as a bat. He stood there and watched her rear shift side to side, her narrow waist holding up her magnificent front. 'Batman' exhaled, as he had stopped breathing for a moment as he watched. "Coming?" she said, winking, waiting at the door. Jonathan just tilted his head, smiled at the double entendre, and followed. She stepped out onto the cool sidewalk, her heels clicking on the outside cement. Her body, insulated by the warm rubber around her body, felt the cold only on the tops of her legs, and her shoulders. The leather kept her warm, the air only really reaching her lips. Batman raised his arm as a black Lincoln Continental pulled quickly up to the curb. Stepping to the edge, the costumed Mr. Borden opened the door for the young lady. Sliding her derri?re in first, she swung her legs in last, the heels floating off the ground inside the 'batmobile.' Jonathan closed the door, and with his criminal captured, stepped around to the other side. Chris peered over her shoulder and watched as the dark-armored man adjusted his crotch, making his concealed 'weapon' fit more comfortably. She could hardly contain her anticipation. She watched out of the corner of her captivating green eyes as Jonathan gave directions to the driver, and then pressed the button to close the partition between them. "So," she said, breaking the silence. "I didn't know Batman had Alfred drive the batmobile." The driver smiled as the darkened glass muffled shut. She crossed her legs; the right over her left, and turned her body towards him, touching his thigh with her right hand, as the other played with her hair. "It's one of the perks of being a millionaire playboy." He said in character. Then he broke down laughing. "Well, I'm not really..." "Not really a playboy, but the other part is true," Chris interrupted. Jonathan was taken aback but the young lady's interjection, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry," she continued, "It's just that I've seen you on TV with all that's happened with your wife and all." She reached out with her black-covered hand for his black-covered hand, attempting to show that she wasn't trying to embarrass him. "I, uh..." he stammered, "I am not really rich, that, the wealth, came from my wife's side of the family," he said admittedly. "I was an struggling actor, waiting tables." "Oh?" the purple-clad woman responded; this was information that she hadn't known, even as Christopher. "Yeah, my wife was the sole living heir to a whole litany of enterprises founded by her grandfather. Ever heard of Branson Enterprises, Inc.?" he inquired meekly. "Sorry, no," she said through clenched teeth. Chris was lying to maintain her innocence, even though the name Branson was molded to the inside of her latex body suit. "Well, they make all kinds of things, from military parts to clothing, to a lot of the costumes we'll be seeing tonight." Jonathan seemed ashamed to talk about the wealth he now controlled solely, due to his wife's demise. "My wife, she, uh, loved Halloween." He stated, hanging his head low. "I'm so sorry to hear about your loss," she said comforting, now grasping his hand with both of hers. "I saw the reports this evening..." "About Mr. McHenry's escape? Yeah, I heard," Batman said, lifting his head back up. "The police called as soon as it happened. They're afraid he might try to return to the scene of the crime or something." He looked into her sympathetic green eyes, and whispered, "It's all my fault." His eyes drifted downwards as he just shook his head in apparent shame. "Hmm? What are you talking about?" Chris questioned "It's my fault Kristin, my wife," he stated, "is gone." Jonathan took a deep breath and proceeded to explain, "I was somewhat instrumental in getting Mr. McHenry hired on as a maintenance man in the building." Chris leaned in, trying to see his eyes, but they still looked at the floor. "I accidentally met him one day, he was in rehab. He wanted a chance to be clean; I thought I was doing the right thing..." his voice trailed off. Chris knew that the Bordens retained a position on the tenant board for the building they lived in, so she understood how he could have influenced the others. The tightly clad woman slid over the leather seat, her hip now touching his. "C'mon, you had no idea something like this would happen..." "Didn't I?" he replied, a tear seemingly welling up in his eye. She turned toward him, her firm breasts now rubbing against his right shoulder as she placed her right hand on his cheek, pulling his head to face her. "No, you didn't. You were just trying to do the right thing." With that she leaned over and kissed the costumed hero gently on his exposed cheek. The comforting feline could taste the salty tear on his exposed skin. He smiled at her, getting lost in her eyes, never realizing that they were false. The roar of police sirens passing by broke them out of their mutual trance. "Well," Chris started, "Tonight, I'm Selina Kyle, and you're Bruce Wayne." Sliding slightly back, but grasping his right hand in her left, she continued, "Let's forget who we really are for tonight and have some fun." "Well," he said with returning confidence, "no one will recognize me in this outfit, and that's just fine with me with all that's going on." He slipped forward and opened the partition between them and 'Alfred.' "Driver," calling his attention, "could you let us off two blocks from the building," he said, and then turning to his companion, "I don't want to be recognized and this car would give me away." "As you wish, Mr. Wayne," the driver said, getting into the spirit, leaving the backseat occupants curious to know if he heard them earlier. The hero sat back as his feline companion snuggled up close, letting out a few soft purrs, as his hand rested on her tightly wrapped thigh. Chris smiled, as the rest of the drive uptown was peaceful, but loaded with anticipation. *** The streets of midtown were quite empty, in comparison to the village, as the black auto slowed to a stop two blocks from its destination. A few people could be spotted in costume, but in this area of office buildings the local tenants were companies, not individuals. "Here we are sir, two blocks, as you requested," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for the catwoman. Chris smiled as she rose from her snuggle, glancing at her 'pillow,' then turning to the chauffeur who has his hand extended to help her. She noticed his eyes wander up and down her long legs as they exited the car first, followed by the breasts hidden behind the radiant purple spandex. The cool breeze gently blew against her face as she shook out her long dark hair, placing her leather-encased hands on her hips. Batman followed, but needed no help from the driver. He got out, straightening out his heavy cape, and adjusting his pants. Chris then eyed her prey; Jonathan wore black rubber armor similar to the character in the movies, complete with utility belt. "Sir, would you like me to pick you up here or at the door?" asked the driver, as he closed the door to the dimly lit car. "Um," Jonathan said, looking at 'Selina,' then back to 'Alfred.' "I think here. I'll call you." "Very well, sir, miss. Please be careful." With that he re- entered the car, and was off. "Shall we?" Batman said, holding out his elbow. "Meow," is all Catwoman said as she thread her arm inside of his as they set off down the road. They never realized the pairs of eyes lurking in the shadows, watching, and waiting, for their return. The comic book couple entered the party with little fanfare. The crowd of a hundred or so Branson employees was dressed as all types of characters, from cavemen to astronauts, and everything in between. They all wore masks to hide their true identities; none realized that Catwoman was dressed to hide her identity, which hid his true identity. 'Selina Kyle' pranced around gleefully, her hips swaying with the music as she and 'Bruce' grabbed a drink. Catwoman and Batman mingled in the crowd, none able to guess their true, true identities. They were entered into the best costume contest, as many assured them they couldn't lose. As the night carried on, they engaged in small talk, sharing many laughs, as they ate little and drank much. Seemingly the masks they wore lowered Mr. Borden's inhibitions, as no one realized his true identity, just as Christopher's costume nearly eliminated his. The dance floor was crowded as she pulled the reluctant bat onto the floor. The lights strobe, and colors swirled about as they reached the center, under the spinning mirrored ball. The heavy beat intoxicated them just like the alcohol had done, as they slid their hands over each other's body. Chris's erection never softened as the she was filled with energy. Dancing close, she pressed her leather covered leg against his, straddling his thigh. Her female mound pressed into his hips, her five-inch heels allowing her hidden appendage to grind into his. He slipped his arm around her waist, the second skin providing no resistance to his advances as he pulled her even closer. She glided her hand around, cupping his ass, as he did the same. Chris could feel Jonathan's strong hand squeeze even through the rubber, her heart racing with excitement. Though the music beat on, she heard only the beat of her heart; time stood still as he reached down with his face, staring into her vibrant emerald eyes. She began to melt, wrapping her arms around his strong neck, just before he lowered his head and kissed, pressing against her wanton lips. His tongue found little resistance as it plunged into her mouth, dancing with its feminine mate in the middle of the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted the young lady up in their embrace, her left pointed-toe reaching for the floor, her right lifted backwards, the stiletto heel pointed to the disco ball above. Letting her down gently, they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. As their imposed deafness left them, the music soared again to full volume. Chris looked down and bit her lower lip as Jonathan looked around at whom might have seen them. No one around them noticed or cared as the music roared on. He returned his attention in front of him, only to realize he stood there alone. Lifting his pointed ears around, he turned as he watched a perfect ass sashay away from him. He stared as those leather-covered legs stopped at the doorway, drinking in the wine that wrapped her turning hips, waspish waist, and pert breasts as they pointed in his direction. Chris looked through the dark hair over her right shoulder, as she caught him still in the middle of the floor. She lifted her right hand, motioning with her index finger 'come hither,' while her left hand, unseen by 'Bruce,' rubbed up and down against her mound. Her erection was out of control, and she could hardly control it. Just like Batman pursuing a criminal, he quickly navigated his way through the gyrating crowd of revelers, and reached the doorway where his prey laid waiting. Grabbing his hand in hers, she led him to a secluded corner, backing in to the darkened area. Pulling him in close, she once again wrapped her arms around the hero's neck, this time wrapping her right leg around his waist. He, in return, guided his left hand around the small of her back, his right gingerly fondling her left breast, as their mouths engaged in intimate contact once more. Chris could almost feel his contact through the firm yet pliable rubber. She could definitely feel Jonathan's immense erection, having lowered her left hand, pressing against his crotch. Their bodies, hidden nicely by the darkness, and his black cape, ground against each other as the music, though muffled, still beat through the wall against her rear. Breaking the kiss to regain their breath, Jonathan lifted his head, his eyes wide with lust. Chris tilted her head down, but eye contact remained as she peered through her lashes, breathing softly but heavily. "Let's get out of here," Selina Kyle said, her claws firm clenched around his neck. Smiling a lascivious smile, he responded, between pants, "What about the contest?" Letting out a chuckle, she again reached down to the area below his utility belt, giving a squeeze to his 'boy wonder.' "Let's go, I have my trophy right here!" With out delay, Batman reached for his utility belt, pulling out a small electronic device. "Alfred, pick us up." The cold outside air helped them both regain some self- control, knocking out a level of inebriation. Chris's head still spun as her ears rung softly from the loud dance music inside. She never felt any discomfort from the excessive heels as they walked arm in arm down the dark road, the full moon their only light. As her right hand was held, she pulled her body close against his, her free hand placed against his left shoulder. The rhythmic walking played havoc on her hidden erection. The click of her heels against the swishing of her spandex- covered thighs kept the blood flow intense to her male member. This night was a fantasy; the way she was dressed, with no fear or inhibitions, dressed to kill with an extremely handsome and masculine man on her arms, she would remember this night forever. They reached their destination in no time, their thoughts engaged in the moment they shared earlier. The lone streetlight was dim, the moonlight blocked from their side of the street. She turned in towards his broad chest, as he wrapped her up in his strong arms to keep her warm, waiting for their ride to arrive. Suddenly a hunched figure emerged from the shadows, his hairy face hidden by the darkness. "Give me your money!" screamed the masked character; the silver gun reflecting what little light existed. Sobriety quickly returned to Chris, as she clutched closer to her companion. Jonathan breathed in, his shoulders getting broader, his head lifted high. He gently guided his date behind him, protecting her from their attacker. "I said, give me your money, Batman!" he said mockingly. With a gentle flick, Batman tossed his cell phone at their aggressor, startling him. With lightning speed, he lunged forward, his leather hand landing square on the jaw of the mugger. The Lincoln Continental rounded the corner, the distant headlights illuminating the confrontation. The attacker came into full view, showing the torn clothes he wore, with fake fur protruding outwards. The rubber wolf man mask had shifted around, his right eye now peering through the left eyehole. Without hesitation, the strike to the jaw was followed but a swift uppercut to the abdomen. The man thumped into the side of the building, his head snapping hard into the brick. The gun dropped into the shadows as the artificial lycan slumped to the ground, unconscious. "Oh my god!" squealed Catwoman, as 'Alfred' sped up to them. "Are you OK?" she asked, running up behind her hero. Still staring down at the wilted assailant, he reached over and grabbed the frightened woman. "Yes, I'm fine," he said confidently, turning to his companion as the car screeched to a stop. "How are you? You ok?" Pulling her arms against her chest, she squeezed in tight between his strong arms, half scared, half aroused, by his heroic bravado. The driver came out wielding a large flashlight, shining it against the wall where the body slumped. Never losing his composure, he walked over to still form, and picked up the item of distraction. "Sir, would you like to call the police?" Knowing he should, he feared the repercussions his night out with Ms. Yorick would create. Looking down at the frightened woman in his arms, he turned his head to the driver. "No, let's just get out of here." Chris looked up in shock, then realized why they had to just leave. Placing her hand softly against his chest, she nodded and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek, as the driver opened the car door. Jonathan wasn't the only one with something to hide. As they slid into the car, the driver picked up an empty bottle from the curb, placing it in the lifeless paw of the man-wolf. No one ever heard the cold metal of the gun scraping the ground as it was picked up in the darkness. The shiny metal never glimmered as it was hidden from view. A passing patrol car drove by, paying no mind to the apparent Halloween drunk flopped on the sidewalk, partially blocked by the still Lincoln. Nor did anyone see, as the two cars drove off, a callused hand remove the rubber mask from the motionless form, as the other hand gripped tightly the abandoned revolver. *** The ride downtown was silent as Chris slid in close to her masculine hero. Seeing the pointed gun scared her motionless. Her hidden erection softened at the realization of her mortality. As a man, she was usually quite adept at handling adversity, but she seemed to reflect an exaggerated feminine reaction, especially with some one as forceful as Jonathan Borden standing in front of her. The ebony automobile sailed down the asphalt river as the lights agreed to their passage, never having to stop. Peering out opposite blackened-windows, the back seat occupants watched as partiers wandered the streets, ducking in and out of various establishments serving adult beverages. Chris noticed a large man dressed as another wolfman; she shuddered, Jonathan's strong arm gripping her a little tighter. Color finally returned to her hidden pale cheeks as the luxury car pulled up to the front of their building. 'Alfred' opened the curbside door, flooding the interior of the dark car with the building's well-lit entrance. Exiting the warm car with the driver's help once more, Chris chose not to wait for Jonathan, but trotted quickly into the safe confines of the familiar lobby. She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, seemingly holding her breasts up, as if they needed assistance, waiting. Jonathan spoke briefly to the driver, shaking his hand with a large bill between their palms. 'Alfred' nodded at him, then smiled towards the slender female safely behind the glass, as Batman turned to join his Catwoman inside. The masculine hero put his firm hands gently on the woman's upper arms as the 'Batmobile' drove off, the full moon reflecting off it's back window. "Would you like to come up?" the hero asked, transforming from Batman, back into Jonathan. "If you don't, that's fine..." "Yes, I'd like that," confessed the Chris, smiling as she shed her Selina Kyle persona. The stiffness in her shoulders drained out of her, comfortable once again inside the familiar walls. Jonathan briefly hugged her close, recognizing her regained strength, and motioned her towards the familiar elevator. They spoke little as Chris watched the lights of the lift blink higher. She took special note as the number 9 lit up, then darkened; she was now entering more unfamiliar territory, as the lift continued to rise up to the penthouse. The elevator slowed and the soft ding chimed; they had reached the top. The doors slid open to reveal a small foyer, with one door ahead of them and another, smaller door around to the left. Stepping out, Jonathan pulled out his keys from his utility belt and, turning the key in the lock, he pushed the door open. Chris, still in the lift, took her first steps towards the possible encounter that has been on her mind ever since Tanya implied it. Confident in her looks and her inner costume, she heaved a heavy sigh, and strutted her way out of the elevator and into his home. Chris's elevated heels echoed of the marble entranceway as she made her way in. She stopped five steps in, marveling at the two expansive floors the penthouse contained. The main floor was wide open, with a large living room; an open pit fireplace, the main focus. Off to each side, smaller rooms branched off, the dining room on the right, the large kitchen to the left. The ceiling over the living room was two stories high, with a balcony on either side overlooking the main room. On the far end, opposite the front door, a wall of glass rose up two stories, the Statue of Liberty clearly visible in the distance. Jonathan pulled the door shut, motioning Chris into the dining room area. "Just wait here," he said meekly, "I need to let Karen, the babysitter, go for tonight." Chris nodded, understanding the action similar to not calling the police earlier. The news of him with another woman, so soon after his wife's demise, would be scandalous. Chris hid the shadows of the unlit room, standing behind the corner. Jonathan removed his party mask as he climbed the circular steps on the right side. The end of the balcony was a small area, similar to a small family room. Chris could hear Mr. Borden and Karen speaking, their voices getting louder as they approached the stairs. Karen was a nice high school girl who also resided in the building. She did a lot of babysitting jobs in the building, but Chris was sure this one paid the best. Chris slipped farther into the shadows as the Karen bounded down the stairs, followed by the boots of the father. Letting her out, and making sure the elevator was on it's way down, Jonathan closed the door. Chris instinctively came out, realizing the coast was clear. Jonathan was peeling off his cape, and then pulled off his heavy gloves. Chris followed suit, unzipping the top of the purple catsuit, revealing some more skin, but no cleavage. With her leather-covered hands, she pushed back the little-eared hood, exposing her natural yet artificial beauty. Her head free from the tight confines of the hood, she shook her head about, the long dark wavy