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Father's Day By circe The house was still as the sun set over the garden, casting long shadows across the flagstone patio. Inside, the only noise was a deep male voice, softly reading at his son's bedside. John sat on the cartoon bedsheets, the book of Greek myths and legends open on his lap as his son, Jack, fought off the tiredness he so keenly felt. "Finally, Pandora could stand it no longer," John read, his voice rich and soft in the darkness. "When she knew Epimetheus was out of sight, she crept up to the box, took the huge key off the high shelf, fitted it carefully into the lock and turned it. But, at the last moment, she felt a pang of guilt, imagined how angry her husband would be and quickly locked the box again without opening the lid and put the key back where she had found it. Three more times she did this until, at last, she knew she had to look inside or she would go completely mad!" "What did she do?" Jack asked nervously. "Well, she took the key, slid it into the lock and turned it. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and slowly lifted the lid of the box. She opened her eyes and looked into the box, expecting to see fine silks, gowns or gold bracelets and necklaces or even piles of gold coins." "What was inside?" "You'll just have to wait until tomorrow," his dad said with a glint in his eye. "Good night." John lent forward and kissed him softly on his forehead as he stood, taking the book with him. He was about to close it and leave it on his son's bedside table when he noticed the next story in the chapter: Oedipus. Maybe one to skip, he thought to himself. He left the book and reached under the shade to click off the lamp. At the doorway, he glanced back to see his son drifting off to sleep before closing the heavy wooden door behind him. In his study, John poured himself a generous glass of Scotch into a thick heavy glass and turned on his computer. He took a sip as he scanned his inbox, deciding which emails he could safely ignore until tomorrow. With a sigh, he opened one email and its Word attachment and set to reading the 40-page case notes document. His mobile phone buzzed on the leather top of his desk. Strange, he thought, checking the time at the bottom right of his PC screen. Hopefully nothing serious. He answered the call, noting the blocked number on the caller ID. "Hello," he said. "Darling!" A woman's voice, girlish and playful. "I hope I'm not disturbing." "You're very disturbing," he replied without missing a beat. "That's not bad, you sound like her." "What are you doing?" she asked, ignoring him. "Hard at work?" He looked away from his computer screen to the two photographs on his desk. The smaller of the two showed him and his son, the boy sitting and laughing on his shoulders. The larger picture was of a beautiful young woman, smiling and laughing in her wedding dress. He picked up the photograph of his wife and laid it in front of him. "You know me. Always working." "You work too hard. When can John come out to play?" "The question is when can Suzy." "Whenever you want darling. I'm all dressed up and nowhere to go." "You are?" John asked with surprise. "And what exactly are you wearing?" He purred, taking a sip of his scotch and leaning back in his office chair. The woman laughed. "I see you haven't changed. Do you want to know really, or is this a fantasy phone call?" "Let's go with fantasy." "Then I'm just wearing the white satin teddy you gave me for my birthday. Well, that and a smile." "And really." "The same. But no smile." It was John's turn to laugh. "Seriously," he said, taking a drink. "I want to see. You sound just like her." "What do you have in mind?" Suzy's voice asked. - - - - - Andy and Zoe lay next to each other on the double bed, crowded round the cordless phone. They both wore sweatpants and t-shirts and both their faces were slathered in face cream - Andy's pink, Zoe's white. "I know a great hotel room," John said through the phone. "I'm sure you can remember." "Hotel room? John, you've never taken me to a hotel since we've been married," Andy replied in his best Suzy voice - more soprano than Mandy's alto. John sighed. "You know what I mean. You don't want to meet here do you?" "I don't think Jack's quite ready for that, do you?" Andy countered. "But do you really want to take me to the same room you take all your whores? I'm your wife. I deserve better than that." The line went quiet and Andy and Zoe looked at each other with concern. Perhaps he'd gone too far. "No, sorry, you're right." John said reproachfully. "How thoughtless. All right, if you want to play, let's play. Next Saturday night, I'll be waiting for you where we had our first date. I'm sure my wife will remember where that was." "Oh darling, how romantic," Andy said, miming an exaggerated shrug towards Zoe. "It's a date. Goodnight my love." There was a beep as the call disconnected and Andy dropped the handset onto the thick duvet. "Any idea where that is?" Zoe asked with a smirk. "No idea," Andy said, collapsing heavily onto the bed. * * * * * A small antique bell tinkled delightfully as Mandy and her daughter pushed open the shop door. Billie Holliday sang quietly as they closed the door behind them, the soft female jazz a perfect soundtrack to the baroque lingerie store they had entered. The shop was empty. Mandy looked around for the shop assistant, but she was nowhere to be found. "Sorry, we're closing," came a disembodied voice which Mandy realized emanated from under the dark wooden counter that sat in the middle of the shop. "I have an appointment," Mandy replied, her voice rising at the end, questioning herself. "Mandy!" The woman behind the counter sprang up, her ruby red lips curving into a wide smile. "And little Emma. How are you sweetie?" "Fine," Emma replied, hiding behind her mother's grey pencil skirt. "Do you want to do some coloring in?" the woman asked. She fished in a drawer for a moment and pulled out two sheets of paper and a box of brightly colored crayons. Emma nodded and ran to meet the woman, who walked round the counter and bent down to give the materials to her. The girl took them gladly and sat down on the floor next to a gold and black velvet chair. "Lucy, you look gorgeous," Mandy said. She meant it. Every time she had visited her shop, she had been impressed at both the curvy woman's style and ability to wear fantastic outfits that flattered her. Today was no exception. Mandy marveled at the black dress with white polka dots that Lucy wore with a full and lacy underskirt. "Thank you," Lucy replied with a smile. "Have you just come from work?" Zoe had inadvertently introduced the two women a few months ago: the bra that Mandy wore now came from here, not to mention the breasts it was currently supporting. "I'm afraid so," Mandy replied. "Is it that obvious?" "Not at all," the glamorous woman replied, giving Mandy a tight squeezing hug. "You're here to pick up your order?" "I am. Are they ready?" "They are. Just wait a moment," Lucy disappeared into the room behind the counter, returning a few moments later with a large round pink hatbox, the Booby Trap logo emblazed on the side. Mandy removed the lid and peered inside. A small, perky and creamy pair of breasts nestled inside among the pink and white tissue paper. "Lucy they're beautiful," she said, touching one breast tentatively with her finger. "Do you want to try them on?" Lucy asked, rounding the counter to stand in from of Mandy. "Check the fit. Maybe try on some underwear," she added with a smile. "I'd love to," Mandy said, lost in thought as she gently caressed a dark and puffy nipple. "But I can't," she added, snapping out of it and rolling her bright eyes towards her daughter, scribbling on the floor. Satisfied, she put the round lid back onto the box. "That's too bad," Lucy pouted. "Well, make sure you try them on soon and let me know how you get on." "I will, I promise. Emma, say thank you to Lucy, we're going. We really have to get to the market." "Thank you," the little girl trilled, picking up her barely-started drawing, "You're welcome sweetie. Come again soon?" Lucy asked as mother and daughter left her shop. * * * * * The kitchen and living room of Mandy and Zoe's house was spotless. The cushions had been cleaned and plumped up, the coffee table polished and all the toys put away into a wicker basket. The house smelt wonderful, the result of furniture polish, herbs and spices, and Mandy's perfume, which cut through the air like a knife. Inside the kitchen, five women sat around the table. Mandy and Zoe sat opposite each other, with Alison and Emma next to them. Molly wriggled her legs in the high chair at the top of the table. Molly had already been a big hit, with Alison arriving with the little girl strapped to a harness against her chest. Emma was fascinated with the baby, smiling and chatting and playing with her while the adults were introduced with pleasantries. "So how long have you and Mandy known each other?" Alison asked Zoe. "You seem really close." "A long time," Zoe grinned at her friend. "Mandy and I went to school together." "That's a co-incidence," Alison said, before stopping herself with a glance to Emma, who was obliviously eating her dinner. "She's my best friend," Mandy agreed. "We've been though a lot together." "I can tell," Alison smiled, swallowing a mouthful. "And what about you, how are you enjoying being a mum?" Zoe asked. "It's really hard," Alison said. "But it's getting easier. It's fear and practice mainly." "She's really beautiful." "Thank you." "Mandy struggled with Emma to begin with." A silence descended over the meal as they ate. "I meant after... oh Jesus. This is ridiculous," Zoe put down her cutlery with a clang. "Emma, why don't you run up stairs and get your doll to show Molly?" The little girl pushed her chair back and gleefully ran away from the table, her nice party frock swirling as she ran. "Hi," Zoe said, extending her hand towards Alison. "I've known Andy since he was born, and Mandy since she was at school with me. He's done a wonderful job being a great mum to Emma and I love him, um, her, to bits. You seem lovely. Mandy's told me all about you." Alison giggled, stood and walked round the table where she wrapped her arms around Zoe in a big hug. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," she said. "Andy's told me all about you and how wonderful you are. And I can see it's totally true." Mandy sat opened mouthed, watching her two friends. Slowly, her lips curved into a smile. "I don't know what you're smiling about," Zoe said. "It's your fault we have to talk in code." Their laughter was interrupted by Emma, banging down the stairs and bursting into the living room trailing her doll by a twisted plastic leg. She stopped abruptly when she entered the kitchen. She looked at the three women in turn as they hid their amusement. "What's funny?" the little girl asked suspiciously. "Nothing darling," Mandy said, hiding her lips with a slender hand. "Sit down and eat your dinner." * * * * * Mandy pinched off a piece of theatrical putty and rolled it between her fingers, deep in thought. She stared again at the photograph on her make-up table and nodded to herself, turning around and bending down over the bed - and over Alison's waiting face. The girl lay stretched out, naked except for a pair of white fluffy towels - which were draped over her from knees to chest. Her pink hair had been pinned up and gathered under a nylon wig cap. It must be pretty great living with a beautician, she had decided, having already had her legs waxed, a back massage and her skin scrubbed and exfoliated. Alison felt a million dollars. Mandy added the small pea of clay to her nose and gently smoothed it down into place. Satisfied, she gave the girl a quick kiss on the forehead and turned back to the collection of photographs on the table. "If you're going to keep doing that every time, this is going to take forever," Alison said out the side of her mouth, careful not to move. "Sorry, I can't help it." "I mean, it's sweet: but I have to be somewhere in three days, you know?" Mandy laughed. "Stop moving." Alison pursed her lips together with a stern look. The bedroom door creaked open. Zoe stuck her head around. "How are you kids doing?" she asked. "Fine," Mandy replied, in unison with a hum from Alison. "It's slow going, you know how it is." "Is it going to work?" Zoe asked, coming into the room and closing the door gently behind her, so as not to wake the two sleeping children next door. "I think so," Mandy said as she added another tiny ball of putty to the girl's face. "Come and see." Alison watched as Mandy and Zoe stood over her, both appraising her face. Her eyes darted between them, searching for a sign. She watched as Zoe screwed up her face, squinting down at her and then turning to look at the collection of pictures on the table. "Yeah," Zoe said eventually, drawing out the word. "Yeah, I think it might work." Alison sighed and lay still as Mandy resumed her deliberate work. It was going to be a long weekend. * * * * * Andy worked while the house slept, jacked up on caffeine and adrenaline. Alison had fallen asleep hours ago, relaxed from lying down and from Zoe's beauty treatments. Next to her on the bed, Zoe snored loudly - her face peaceful and her mouth open. The mask Andy worked on was almost finished - a record, even for him. This had been much harder than the others. It was much thicker, but then the two faces had very little in common. He realized, as he meticulously punched another eyebrow hair into position, that he was actually pretty good at this. Maybe when this was all over, he'd ask Lucy if he could put a card in her shop. Sunlight had begun to creep into the room under the curtains. Andy knew that the girls would be waking soon. He still had at least an hours work to do on the mask, but also desperately had to sleep. He was also aware that, having removed his Mandy mask, boobs and padding, Emma would wonder who this strange boy was in her house. Since confessing the truth to Alison, he had been spending more and more time as Andy - taking Mandy off at night when Emma was in bed, to talk to Alison over the phone before they went to sleep. It felt wrong talking to her as Mandy, not that she seemed to mind. In fact, he thought with a smile, she had hinted on at least a couple of occasions that she wouldn't mind spending some quality time with his female alter ego. The thought both excited and worried him: the boundaries in his life - so clear-cut just weeks ago - were collapsing. "How long can you keep this up?" she had asked him one night, deep into a phone conversation. "Until Emma's ten? Sixteen? What's your plan?" He had muttered something about her not being ready. He'd know when the time came, but the truth was he had no idea. He had started this for her, but he would have to end it for her too. The truth was, he realized, moving onto the other eyebrow, he become Mandy as much for his own enjoyment as for his sister's protection. He had become her because he would be better at it than she was. His younger self had hated her so much - for neglecting him, for not having any self-respect and for being beautiful. He wanted what she had and he had taken it. In the last few weeks though, he had seen another side. He had been leaving Emma with Zoe more and more, going out on his own more and more, and realizing that he enjoyed Mandy's life as much without Emma as with her. That he loved his sister had not changed - if anything it had grown stronger over time - but what had changed was his realization that his mother was not the devil. He cried then: shoulders silently shaking as wordless tears fell in the darkness. * * * * * Andy woke with a start. He sat up, momentarily surprised that his chest didn't have its usual comforting weight. Suddenly very awake, he ran his hands over his face - he wasn't wearing a mask. He didn't remember going to bed and had no idea how he had gotten here. The alarm clock on Mandy's bedside table read just after nine. The door to his en suite bathroom was open a crack, the sound of running water escaping into the bedroom. He pulled back the thick covers and swung out of bed, brushing back his long blonde hair with one hand as he stood. Naked, he moved over to the bathroom door and opened it a little wider. The bathroom was warm and filled with steam - the large mirror opposite the door was misted up completely. Alison stood in the shower, facing away from the door, her naked body wet, slick and glistening. Andy watched her with a mixture of lust and envy. She was beautiful, uncomplicated and easily feminine. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that she was so accepting of him: So happy to be with him. He wished he had a body like that - curvy and sexy without all the props and padding. She bent over then, to squeeze some more shower gel onto the buff puff she was using, pushing her round backside towards him. "You gonna stand there and watch all day or do you want to come and give me a hand?" she shouted over the trickling water. Andy grinned, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He stepped into the shower behind Alison, kissing her neck as he pressed his body against hers and wrapping his arms around her middle. She pushed her bottom into him, tilting her head and exposing more of her neck to his willing lips. She felt warm and slippery to his touch. She tasted of Mandy's shower gel. As he kissed her he cautiously slid one hand off her tummy and up to her breasts, cupping and squeezing the enlarged boobs he had admired so much. He closed his eyes and for a moment imagined those breasts were his, that it was his neck being suckled, that it was between his round derriere that a cock was swelling with lust. He felt her nipples harden under his slippery fingers. He slid his other hand down her front, stroking her small thatch of public hair with his own slender feminine hand. He felt her squirm as he snaked his fingers between her thighs, finding her warm and slippery as he slipped a finger insider her. Alison brought her hand up to her breast and laid it over Andy's, squeezing gently as he stroked her. Andy moaned, his voice a soft alto hybrid of his own and Mandy's. "Hey," Alison said, slipping from his grasp and pulling him out of his fantasy. "Who am I in the shower with?" "Sorry," he said as she turned and kissed him. "Why sorry?" Andy was about to answer when she kissed him - first with exploring lips, then fuller, opening her mouth and pressing herself against him. He felt her breasts squeezed against his chest, his hard cock flattened against her. She pulled away and gently took his cock in her small hand, stroking it tenderly. "Were you thinking of what it was like, to be me?" she asked, placing Andy's hand on her breast and stroking harder. "To have my boobs, my bum?" "Yes." "My pussy too?" "Yes." "What about my face?" "God yes," Andy said, shuddering as he came into her hands. "I know you were," she smiled, kissing him again as the water bounced off their bodies. "It's cool. I was wondering what it's like to have one of those." * * * * * The concierge stood at the desk, enjoying the peace and quiet of a Sunday afternoon to take the time to read his newspaper. The foyer was empty. The last of the weekend guests had checked out hours ago. Maids and cleaning staff were almost finished their sweep and the kitchens were closed - the lunchtime rush now a memory. He looked forward to these moments of peace. He concluded reading the article and turned the page, scanning the newspaper for any interesting stories. On the periphery of his hearing, he was aware of the squeak of the revolving door as it groaned into life, followed by the cutting sound of high-heeled shoes striking the marble floor, accompanied by the rumble of a trolley case. Air hostess, he guessed without looking up. From experience, he knew the distance from the door to the desk would take twenty seconds. He read to the conclusion of the paragraph and looked up, just as the woman approached the desk. She wore a figure-hugging white dress that left little to the imagination, clinging to her like a second skin. Her breasts bounced as she walked, tottering on ridiculously high heels. There could be no doubt as to her profession. He smiled to himself. She wasn't alone, he noticed. She stood next to a very well dressed man, his suit and tie as expensive as her dress was cheap. As they approached the counter, his nostrils filled with the overwhelmingly sweet odour of her perfume. He turned to face the gentleman. "Can I help you sir?" he asked. "I have a reservation," the woman said, causing the concierge to turn his head. "In the name of Hamilton. John Hamilton." "Of course madam," he looked down at his computer screen. "Miss." "I do beg your pardon," he said, glancing up to smile an oily grin. He found the reservation - for one night only. He would be surprised if they stayed the night. He handed over the keycard and was again surprised that the woman signed for the room. The gentleman, so far, had said nothing. "Enjoy your stay." The woman flashed a brilliant smile as she took the card, swiveled on spike heels and tottered away, trolley case in tow behind her swinging hips. Her companion stayed behind and leant on the counter, both men watching her go. "Can I help you with anything else?" "Uh, can you send up some champagne," the man said, his voice deep and monotone. "Of course sir, no problem." "Thanks." He took a step back from the desk and stuck his hands in his pockets, following where his partner had gone before. She waited impatiently by the elevators, her arms folded under her bosom. By the time he caught up to her and slapped her playfully on the bottom, the elevator had arrived. The escort and her client calmly walked into the elevator. "Jesus," the concierge muttered to himself as he turned back to his newspaper. * * * * * The large polished brass doors of the hotel elevator closed. Both occupants waited until the lift lurched upwards before dissolving in fits of laughter. "That was fun," Mandy giggled, tugging down the bottom of her ridiculous dress to try and preserve what was left of her modesty. "This is amazing," the man who looked like John said. "I can totally see why you love it!" The face was a perfect likeness, created with care after pouring over hundreds of photographs. The voice, on the other hand, was unmistakably Alison's. Mandy turned to face him and wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck, lifting one foot girlishly. Her eyes sparkled as she leant in, kissing his slightly too plump lips hungrily. Through her padding, she felt his hands squeezing her tightly. She smiled as they kissed. The elevator pinged and the door slid back to reveal an elderly couple. Mandy and John didn't even look up, continuing to grope and kiss each other unashamedly. "Are you going down?" the elderly gentleman asked. Mandy broke off the kiss to grin at the couple. "Not yet," she said, as the doors closed once more. The hotel room was exactly as Mandy remembered it. She had worried she would be scared, or cry, when she came here again, but she felt none of those things. She was excited and she was horny. John closed the door as Mandy swung the trolley case onto the bed, quickly unzipping it and flinging it open. She took out a video camera, tripod and her digital camera, leaving some clothes and make-up inside. As she extended the legs of the tripod, she felt John's hands around her middle as he pressed up against her behind. "So, uh," he said, his voice thick and deep and totally false, "do you come here often?" Mandy giggled as she turned around in his grasp. "Oh darling, it's a good thing there's no talking in this video." She looked him up and down. "You look awesome though." "So do you darling," he replied, causing Mandy to bite her lip to stifle the giggles. She reached out to touch his face, her delicate fingers running down his stubbled cheek and onto his flat chest. "Is it really uncomfortable?" "I feel very... secure," he replied in Alison's voice. "It's cool. I guess I know how you feel now," he added, moving to reach under Mandy's micro dress. "Hey! Save it for the tape." They were interrupted by a knock at the door. "I ordered champagne," John explained to Mandy's quizzical expression. He pulled away from her and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a very girly black sequined purse. "They'll add it to the room," Mandy called as she set up the tripod. John opened the door and stood back as the bus boy brought in the ice bucket, a bottle and two crystal glasses. "Over there please," John said, causing a small giggle from Mandy. The boy set up the bucket, looked at Mandy, the video camera and John before heading for the door with his head down. John rushed after him, purse outstretched. "Hey, don't you want a tip?" "Nah man, you have fun!" the boy replied, grinning and placing the "Do not disturb" sign on the outside doorknob. "Well, I guess everyone knows what we're up to," John said as he took off his suit jacket. "That's sort of the idea," Mandy replied, attaching the camera to the stand and checking the viewfinder. "Are you ready?" she asked, straightening up and tugging her dress back into position over her curves. John caught his reflection in the mirror and tilted his head, his eyes flickering over his unfamiliar face. He pouted, blowing himself a kiss. "Absolutely." * * * * * It was late when Mandy got home, tiptoeing into the house with her heels in one hand, the trolley case in the other. Mandy decided to leave the case in the hall and deal with it later. She stuck her head around Emma's door. The nightlight illuminated the little girl's bedroom and cast long and weird shadows over the dolls and toys. Mandy stood there, watching, for an age as the girl slept. After what could have been hours, she crept in and kissed Emma gently on the forehead, causing the sleeping child to moan softly. "I love you darling," Mandy whispered. She closed the door behind her as she left and knocked on Zoe's door - noticing the light leaking underneath the frame. A muffled "come in" was heard from the other side. Mandy deliberately pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. "Hey," Mandy said closing the door behind her, walking into the room and sitting down on Zoe's bed, next to her housemate. "Hey yourself," Zoe replied, putting down the book she was reading. "How'd it go? Hey are you okay?" she asked, noticing the red marks around Mandy's neck. "Oh, yeah I'm fine," Mandy laughed. "Sorry it took so long." "That's alright. Emma and I had fun with Molly. We drew you a picture." "Thank you for... everything. You're wonderful, you know that?" "I actually do know that, thanks," Zoe grinned. "I mean it." "I know you do. You don't need to thank me. I meant to say, Alison is lovely." "She is," Mandy nodded. "I'm surrounded by lovely girls." She bent down and kissed her friend, squeezing her through the duvet. "I'm going to tell Emma." "What? When?" "This week. I've decided." "Are you sure? I mean, it's a lot to take in." "I have to, I think. I ... I just hope she forgives me." "Forgives you!" Zoe sat up now. "Listen to me Amanda Scott. She has nothing to forgive and you have nothing to apologize for. I'm here for you too. I hope you know that." "I do," Mandy smiled, swinging her legs onto the bed and lying next to Zoe. "I'm a lucky girl." "So," Zoe said, lying back and staring at the ceiling. "Do you know where Suzy's meeting John yet?" "No clue," Mandy replied. "He told me once that they met at law school, but ... Oh, of course!" "What is it?" "I need to look at the pictures again, but I think I know where they had their first date." Mandy giggled. "Oh, that's quite romantic really." "Are you sure about all this?" "I think so," Mandy replied, her brow creasing. "I thought I liked him, but I don't. I like the attention, that's all. He scared me. He can ruin me. I need to take all that power away from him - that's what I'm doing. After that... we'll see what's left." "I hope I never piss you off. I'm not sure I want my twin running around doing bad shit." "Who says I don't already have a Zoe mask?" Mandy smiled sweetly. "Oh, that would be so handy!" Zoe laughed. "I could be at work and have a day off." The two women lay next to each other: one above the covers, one underneath. "You don't do you?" Zoe asked after a while. "Have a mask of my face?" "No. Scout's honour," Mandy lifted up her hand and drew a cross over her chest. "Good." Down by her side, next to her hip, Mandy uncrossed her fingers. * * * * * The working week crawled by slower than Andy hoped. Every day in the office was quiet, with little to do but type up notes and answer the phone. He was bored and impatient. If he was honest, he was excited - looking forward to his "date" with John and trying Suzy on in public. Every night Mandy had picked up Emma from school and found one excuse or another not to tell her the truth. Having made up her mind that she was going to, the right time had never presented itself. They played together as they always had, Mandy always on the cusp of saying... what? That was the problem. How do you even start to confess that you're not the person someone thinks you are - let alone to a child? He called Alison every night, talking with her until late about Emma, the weekend that had passed and the weekend to come. She had been bitten now by the bug and wanted more: she wondered who else she could be. The possibilities were endless and exciting. He joked with her that he had created a monster. As he lay in the bathtub on Saturday morning, he knew that he had. He had lain floating in the warm perfumed water for half an hour, eyes closed, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. Weeks of worry and preparation had led to today - it had to go to plan. He ran through his mental checklist again: there was so much to do. Thankfully he had the house to himself: Zoe having taken Emma to work with her this morning. With a sigh, he wrapped his pedicured toes around the chrome plug chain and pulled, letting the water slowly drain away around his pink naked body. The boy pulled himself out of the bath and reached for the large white cotton towel that hung over the radiator nearby. He patted his skin dry and went through his usual routine of applying baby oil, rubbing it into his skin, before wrapping the towel around his chest and stepping out of the bathroom. His make-up table mirror was covered in the now-familiar photographs of Suzy - laughing, smiling and pulling a variety of facial expressions. Bottles and trays of make-up lay on the table, many of them new and unopened. At one end, a polystyrene head held a short auburn wig. Next to it, Suzy's face lay flattened against the table surface, staring up at the ceiling with an eyeless gaze. Andy sat at the make-up table, tugging on the towel and squirming to get comfortable. He removed his shower-cap and let his long blonde hair spill over his bare shoulders, before gathering it up and pinning it tightly and carefully to his head. He took a nylon wig cap and snapped it over his hair, careful to cover all the loose strands he could and tucking any errant hairs under the dark brown elastic band. The cap bulged with the volume of hair underneath. Next, he unscrewed a large tub of moisturizer and scooped out a generous helping, smearing it over his face, neck and chest and working it into his flesh with delicate fingers. He then wiped off the residue with a wet wipe and patted his face dry. Andy leant forward, intently studying his face in the mirror. Working automatically, he opened the bottle of adhesive and began to apply small patches to his face with a brush - on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose and chin. Carefully, he picked up the Suzy mask and leant forward into it, aligning the nose, mouth and eyes with his own. He patted it gently into place and tilted his head back, examining the fit in the mirror and gently tugging the mask into place. He lifted the edges and applied small amounts of adhesive underneath where needed, smoothing down any wrinkles. In his head, he counted down from one hundred. It already felt different from his Mandy mask - tighter, with different weights on the cheeks and nose. Suzy's nose pinched his own tight with little padding, but her cheekbones were much higher and larger. Well practiced, he reached for the tube of liquid latex next to the adhesive and went to work blending in the feathered silicon edges of the mask with his own skin. In under half an hour, his face was unrecognizable. Once the face had dried, he opened a new tube of liquid foundation - much lighter than Mandy's and a different brand. He held it up to his new nose and took a deep breath. The faint odour was different too. He squeezed some make-up onto a triangular sponge and went to work, applying it to the face in the mirror, followed by a light dusting of powder to set. Her complexion was almost translucent. A light brown eye shadow was painted onto each eyelid. His eyelashes were curled with a chrome eyelash curler - no inserts for Suzy. Liquid black eyeliner was carefully applied, followed by a volumizing mascara. He looked at the photographs - no blusher. A dark red lip liner was carefully drawn around his full lips - fuller than Suzy's, he realized, but nothing to be done about that. He took a small brush from his make-up kit and opened a dark red lipstick. Carefully painting the lipstick over his plump lips. He rubbed them together and kissed a tissue, throwing away the kiss into the nearby basket. He studied the face in the mirror, turning this way and that and smiling, practicing her smile with painted lips, showing straight white teeth. Her teeth were different - larger in the front and with pointier canines. He glanced down to one of several small plastic containers. Later, he decided. Leaving the wig for now, he stood, unwrapping himself from the voluminous towel and folding it neatly over the bedroom radiator. He wiped down his chest with a tissue, removing any lingering cream and set to work with the glue again, covering from below his collarbone to the bottom of his rib cage. Working quickly, he opened the Boobytrap hatbox and carefully removed the breast prosthesis within -a single vest of skin-colored silicon. With a well-practiced motion, he unrolled it down his front, after lining up the top of the garment with his shoulders. He pressed it hard against his chest, wriggling it a little until he felt the small raised bumps on the inside of the form that was supposed to line up with his own nipples. Leaning back, he lifted up the edges around the garment and applied more adhesive, sticking it firmly in place. He lay down on the bed, closed his eyes and waited, resisting the temptation to give his new bust a squeeze. It felt strange, having worn Mandy's - well, Zoe's really - large and drooping breasts for so long. There was almost no weight on his chest at all. Unable to resist, he slowly brought one hand onto his chest and traced his new contours with extended fingertips, surprised at the new dimensions his body had taken on. He opened his eyes and began to sit up, letting the adhesive take the weight of his new assets. He smiled, unable to resist enjoying the feeling of difference in his face and his chest. "They're pretty," he said, trying Suzy's voice for the first time. He swung his legs around and stood in front of his mirrored wardrobe doors. The head and shoulders in the mirror were definitely a young woman's. Her breasts were small and perky, with large and dark areola. He was already feeling different - less like Mandy. The feelings and sensations of the mask and chest prosthesis made it easier to remember who he was supposed to be. He was sure that would get easier the more he did to transform. Already, he knew, he liked being Suzy. As he had done with his face, he worked with liquid latex to blend the feathered edges of the silicone of his breast prosthesis, taking care to make sure it was smooth and flawless. He studied his chest in the mirror as he did so, enchanted by Lucy's good work in making it - small freckles and blue veins dotted the surface, adding extra realism. She did excellent work. Andy padded over to the bed where he had looked out his underwear. Nothing fancy for this afternoon: a simple white cotton bra set, with a matching pair of high-leg panties: and it was these that excited Andy most of all. Suzy's shape was much more slender and boyish than his mother's, so Andy was able to forgo the girdle that so dominated his life as Mandy. Instead, he had made a new pair of pads and sewn them into the cheeks of these panties, giving him a fuller and rounded bum and slightly wider hips without the constraint of the girdle. With a barely disguised grin, he stepped into the shaped underwear and pulled it up his smooth slender legs, tucking his manhood away as he did so. Another strange sensation, with the padding sitting weirdly on his boyish behind, he turned and examined the effect in his wardrobe mirrors. His silhouette didn't taper as smoothly as it did with the girdle, but it was certainly girlish. He felt his cock twitching in his new underwear. "There's no time for that," he said, trying out Suzy's voice again, this time sounding clipped and exasperated. "I've got so much to do today, you wouldn't believe." He repeated the phrase again, trying a different inflection. "Hello, I'm Suzanne," the young woman said in the mirror, jutting out one hip as she regarded her figure. "I'm Suzy," she repeated, less surprise in her voice. The young woman turned and reached out onto the bed, picking up the plain white cotton bra that lay there. Quickly, and without ceremony, she slipped her arms through the straps and fastened the hooks behind her back, tugging it down over her small boobs and reaching into the cups to plump up her nestling tits. She swayed over to the table again and sat gingerly, testing her new bottom against the hard wooden chair. Suzy smiled as she felt the padding softly spread under her. She opened the first of the plastic cases and took out a green-tinted contact lens, balanced it carefully on her index finger and inserted it into her large clear eyes. She blinked and checked her eyes in the mirror - one now bright green, the other a bright blue. Suzy took out the other lens and inserted this into her other eye, batting her eyelashes as the plastic disc settled into place. Another plastic container contained an upper arch of teeth, made especially at almost the same expense as her breasts. She pushed the caps into place over her own teeth, enlarging her front teeth and making her eyeteeth pointier. She smiled again and again in the mirror, checking her teeth against the pictures surrounding it. Suzy's grin was almost predatory. How fitting, she thought. The wig was next, brushed out on the polystyrene head before she placed it over her wig cap, working from the front to back and tugging it into position. The bright red hair felt strange and heavy. The wig was sleek and expensive, with subtly different colors of hair forming long streaks down to her chin. A long strand curved across her eye, which she brushed behind her ear. She searched for the sewn-in clips at the edges of the wig and carefully clipped it into place. The face in the mirror focused on the photographs surrounding it, furrowing her brow as she mimicked the poses she saw: laughing gaily, smiling sexily, pouting moodily. She brushed out her hair again, taking her time with long languid strokes, getting used to the feel of it on her head. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Suzy pushed back the make-up chair and stood, taking great care to keep her knees together and pushing her derriere back as she did. She opened her wardrobe door and took down a new pair of skinny blue denim jeans, checking them for any tags left behind. She unzipped the fly and stepped into them, wriggling and squirming the stretchy denim up her legs and thighs. She tugged hard on the waistband, jumping up and down and bouncing them over her padded ass before zipping them up snugly on her crotch. Another new sensation - Mandy never wore jeans. A white blouse was next, buttoned at the cuffs and to the top of her cleavage. She then pulled on a purple tank top with a scooped neckline and fussed with it and the blouse until they sat comfortably together. She fluffed her hair in the mirror again and turned, checking out her preppy outfit, and cute rear. Finally, she slipped her toes into a pair of black leather ankle boots, tucked the jeans into them and zipped them up. She had just finished with her boots when Mandy's phone vibrated on the make-up table. She sat back down and looked at the number before answering: it was Alison. "Hello," Suzy answered, keeping her voice girlish and in character. "Mandy can't come to the phone right now." Down the phone she heard Alison scream with delight. Suzy had to hold the handset away from her ear until it subsided. "Oh my God!" Alison said eventually. "You sound amazing." "Thanks," Suzy replied, picking up a long gold earring and fastening it to her right lobe. "It's really hard." "Dude I bet. You're like a master of disguise. How's it going?" "Good," Suzy swapped the phone to a different ear and fastened the other earring. "It's all weird and different, but yeah, good. Almost changed." "Wish I was there with you. You sound hot." "I wish you were here too," Suzy said. "I'll see you soon, I promise." "I'm scared," Alison said. "About tonight. If he ..." "I'll be fine. We've thought of everything." "Call me, when it's over." "I will." Neither of them spoke for a minute, dead air on the phone. There was so much to say and yet, no need to say it. "Hey, I've been thinking," Alison said eventually. "Oh?" "I want you to make a mask of me. My face." "You do?" Andy said, losing Suzy's voice and character in an instant. He swallowed. "Really?" "Yeah," Alison said, elongating the vowel to breaking point, "if you're a good girl." "I'm always good," Andy said, struggling to regain control. "Just... take care alright? Call me. Bye." Alison hung up before Andy could respond. Thoughts of becoming Alison flooded his mind as he fought to regain control of his Suzy persona. He was acutely aware of his cock, swollen with promise in his tight jeans between his thighs. Focus. Suzy. He leant forward and stared at the reflection in the mirror, taking deep breaths and reminding himself of his outfit, his body, his teeth and wig. He reached down and opened a new bottle of Chanel and sprayed it on his neck and wrists, taking a deep breath at the new scent - Suzy's perfume. "I'm Suzanne," the young woman said, her lips curling upwards into a natural warm smile as she spoke. "I'm Suzy. I'm Suzy." * * * * * The antique bell tinkled delightfully as the shop door opened, announcing the arrival of another customer. The shop was busy on this Saturday afternoon - or busy by its standards, with three women of various ages alternatively browsing, trying on underwear or paying at the desk. Lucy looked up automatically at the new customer - a young woman in her early twenties in jeans and a tight purple tank top - before turning her attention back to the elderly woman in front of her, who had just purchased a fifties style red and white-striped bathing suit. She concluded the transaction and stepped around the desk, approaching the young woman as she examined an antique lace bra. "Can I help you?" Lucy asked. "Just browsing, thanks," the woman replied with a genuine smile. "You have a lovely shop," she added, looking around to emphasize the point. "Oh thank you," Lucy gushed. "Well, if you need anything, just ask." "Thank you, I will," the woman replied, turning back to the lingerie in hand. "Actually," she said after a moment, as Lucy began to walk away, "could I try this on?" "Of course. The changing rooms are up at the back. They're both free now -take your pick!" Lucy looked down at the bra in the woman's hand and glanced back at her chest. "When was the last time you were measured?" "Not for years. Why?" "Do you have time just now? I'll just deal with this lady and be right with you." "Sure, okay." Lucy watched as the woman walked towards the now-vacant changing room and returned to her counter, ringing up the two matching sets the lady in the changing room had bought. She folded the lacy garments and wrapped them in purple and pink tissue paper before carefully putting them into a thick cardboard designer bag, the Boobytrap logo clearly displayed. The lady paid in cash. Lucy snuck a business card into the bag while she was counting her notes. "Thanks, bye!" Lucy said, picking up her tape measure and smiling after the lady as she left, walking past the remaining customer. She had already asked if she wanted help, and she had nervously and politely refused. She knew she would eventually leave without buying anything. Reaching the changing rooms, marked by a thick velvet curtain, she simply slipped inside with a practiced movement, revealing nothing of the interior to the shop. The young woman was already topless, her blouse, tank top and bra carefully folded on the nearby gold-painted chair. She stood quite unselfconsciously, arms down by her sides as she smiled in the mirror at Lucy's arrival. "Right, let's get started," Lucy said, unraveling the measuring tape. She glanced at the woman's breasts and stopped, tilting her head slightly as she took in their size, shape and large dark areole. "Is something wrong?" the woman asked, a smile playing on those lips. "Have we met before?" "Do you want to check the fit now?" Suzy whispered in Mandy's voice. "They look great Lucy - thank you." The curvaceous shop-owner stood open-mouthed, her eyes flicking between the young woman's bust and her face. "Mandy?" she asked, her voice a surprised whisper. "I'm Suzy," the young woman said, extending a slender hand. "It's lovely to meet you." "Suzy," Lucy said, as if trying out the name. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, taking the young woman's hand, her gaze never leaving Suzy's face. "That's amazing." "Thanks," Suzy said smiling, causing dimples to show in her cheeks. "Oh sweetie," Lucy said, reaching out to touch Suzy's face, "I think we're going to have to become very good friends." * * * * * The sun was starting to set on the late summer's evening, casting long orange shadows over the stone steps of the library. The building was still open, with the occasional student emerging or entering with bulging backpacks. John sat on the third bottom step, sharply dressed in an expensive suit and silk tie - his dress completely incongruous to the young men and women around him. The University hadn't changed much since he and Suzy had been students here. The old stone buildings were the same, although adorned with different posters now for shows and bands and student elections. They had met in a tutorial, and argued constantly. He had thought she had hated him, but, thanks to a mutual friend knocking some sense into him, he had asked her out, and had been shocked when she had said yes. He looked up again at the clock tower of the building opposite, then to the expensive Omega watch fastened around his wrist. It was almost nine. From his vantage point, he could look across the whole square and see anyone approaching. The quad was almost empty, aside from an older gentleman walking a spaniel and two young lovers kissing their goodbyes. This had been their first date. He had met her on the library steps after their last class, and he had taken her to a simple Italian restaurant. They had drunk too much, laughed too much and talked until dawn on the carpet of her student flat. He had surprised her by taking her picture when she arrived - late, breathless and with a backpack full of books. It had become his favorite picture of her. He wondered if Mandy had found it, and put two and two together. John reached into his suit jacket pocket and removed his mobile phone, checking the time again on the screen display, looking for any messages or missed calls. Unsurprisingly, there had been none in the two minutes since he last checked. "Hello handsome." The voice came from behind him and he recognized it instantly: Suzy. John calmly put his phone back in his pocket, steadfastly not turning around to look. "You're late," he said. "You should be used to that," she replied. He felt her presence behind him. He smelt her perfume. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I've always loved it here," she said, her heels clicking on the stone steps as she descended next to him. "It reminds me of our college days." John was aware of her sitting next to him on the step. He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and stared straight ahead. "You look nice," she said. He both felt and heard her move towards him as she kissed him lightly on the cheek. He turned to look at her then and she saw him recoil instantly, fear and surprise written all over his implacable face. His eyebrows raised and his mouth opened in shock. "Suzy?" he asked, his voice a breathy whisper. She watched as his pupils darted over her face, examining her eyes, nose, mouth and then down to take in her dress as she sat, her posture upright. "My God," he said, turning away - unable to look at her. She reached out a hand towards his, but he recoiled at her touch, standing suddenly and walking away briskly - not looking back. Suzy sat there on the step alone, looking around the college square and absently rubbing her hands together. "Well," she said to herself. "That wasn't what I expected at all." * * * * * John slammed the door of his BMW closed as he sat down heavily on the dark leather seat. He sat, both hands on the steering wheel, for an age - staring straight ahead, not looking out of the windscreen, the car keys in his hand. He licked his lips, realizing he was crying, tilted his head forward and began to sob. What did I expect? Not that. Not that! She had been perfect - exactly as he remembered her. Every detail was written over her face, her voice - those eyes! His dead wife had been brought back to him. Christ I miss her so much. He sniffed, wiping his face with his coat sleeve and blinking back the new tears forming. Now what? Suddenly, he felt the vibration of his phone in his suit pocket. He took it out and looked at it: Amanda calling. Who was it really? He pushed the button to answer. "Hello?" he asked, surprised that his voice was steady. "Hi." Suzy's voice echoed around the car. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right." "Can you not..." he started. "Don't do that." 'Is this better?" Mandy's voice asked. "Yes. No. I don't know, whatever." "Don't get angry with me," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You asked for this. You threatened me." John said nothing, still reeling from the shock of seeing Suzy so perfectly in front of him. It's not her. It's not Suzy. "Can we talk? I want to talk," Mandy said. "Hello?" "Yes. Yes," John replied, swallowing. "I booked a restaurant. Oh fuck we can't go there." "Why not?" "It's where I took... It'll kill me. Where are you?" "Look in your mirror." John looked up into the rear view mirror and saw his wife standing behind his car, her mobile phone in one hand, her other hand on her hip. Her brown polka dot dress billowed in the breeze as she lifted a hand and gave a little wave. "I know somewhere we can go. Get in," he said, reaching over to open the passenger door. She hung up. He watched her walk towards the car. Her walk was perfect, hips gently rolling as she placed one high-heeled foot in front of another. She reached the door, opened it wider and stepped into the car, smoothing her dress under her as she sat and turned to face him. "So," she began in Suzy's voice. John leaned over and kissed her, silencing her instantly as their lips met and he hungrily pressed them against her, forcing her mouth open. She felt his strong hand on the back of her head, pushing her towards him. It wasn't a kiss it was an attack. He released her, leaving them both gasping for breath, as his wild eyes looked her up and down. "Astonishing," he said, reaching behind him and locking all the doors. "Just astonishing." The car roared to life as John tugged on his seatbelt. "Where are we going darling?" Suzy asked sweetly as she fastened her own belt and hugged the bag she was carrying. John ignored her and drove on into the dying light. * * * * * The journey had been made in silence, Suzy deciding that John would talk when he was ready but that moment had never come. As the car turned off the highway, she realized the destination almost immediately. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat - this was one outcome that she hadn't anticipated. The large BMW growled to a stop across the street from John's house. It was dark now and a light was clearly visible from the living room. A young woman was walking inside, talking on a cordless phone. There was no sign of Jack, but Suzy knew he was there. "Shall we go in?" John asked, breaking the thick silence. "I don't think that's a good idea, do you?" Suzy replied calmly. "She never met him you know. You never met him." "I know." "Sometimes," John sniffed. "He wants a mother. You know? He asks." "I'm sorry." "Let's go in," he said, unclipping his seatbelt. "Just for a bit." "No," Suzy put her hand over John's, shaking her head. "This game. This is between you and me." "Bullshit," he spat. "It's no different than you and Emma." Suzy took a deep breath. "Excuse me?" "How is it different?" John asked, turning to face her for the first time since their journey began. "You're just pretending to be another dead mother. You're pretty good at it." Before she knew what she had done, she slapped him hard across the face. He raised his hand and she flinched, instinctively waiting for the retaliation that never came. "That's not a denial," he said, rubbing his face where it was red. "I get it. I mean, I don't get it. But I can see why you'd rather be a mother than a father." "What?" "I guess you have your own personal reasons, but you're Emma's dad right? Amanda's old boyfriend or whatever? We didn't really talk about her home life when I knew her." "I..." "We can drop the games. I know, it's fine." Suzy sat in her seat open-mouthed. "So, here's the deal. Every second weekend, you dress up like that," he gestured at her dress with a wave of his hand, "and spend some time with Jack. And then, I won't tell anyone what's under your skirt. How's that sound?" "For how long?" she heard herself asking. "I don't know, as long as I like. You can still dress up as Mandy - maybe we could have another go at that date." "No," she said evenly. "Pardon?" "You heard me. No. No, I'm not dressing up as Jack's mother, or as your whore, or as anyone else you want me to be. Fuck you." "You've changed your tune. I remember you quite happily sucking my cock not that long ago." "I was confused. I thought you were nice." "I am! There's not many people out there who are this tolerant of freaks like you. I just want to use your skills. I thought you'd be happy." "Fuck you," she said again, unclipping her seatbelt and reaching over to open the door. "Wait." She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping out into the cool evening air. "Here," she said, fishing in her bag and pulling out a DVD. She threw it at John. It hit him hard on the chest. "You come near me or my family again and I'll give this to the police. Why don't you watch it and think of the possibilities." "Amanda!" John shouted, getting out the car and shouting at the young woman walking away. "Suzy! Whatever! Come back!" Suzy walked away into the night, head up and shoulders back as tears streamed down her perfectly made-up face. She turned the corner and stopped, fishing in her bag for her compact and checking her face, carefully dabbing under her eyes with a tissue. She snapped it shut with a sniff and dropped it into her bag, swapping it for her mobile phone. She selected Alison's name from the contacts list. The phone rang only once. "Are you alright?" Alison asked, panic in her voice. "Yeah," Andy said, his voice a contradiction to the young woman who walked along the suburban street. "It's over." * * * * * John sat down in front of his computer, switching on the desk lamp and bathing the keyboard in its narrow yellow light. He was confused and angry... He slid the DVD into the computer's slot and waited. A video popped up onto the screen and he hit play instantly, irritated at having to watch its contents. The movie faded up from black to show a bed full frame, with some expensive bedside furniture and fixed lamps. The location seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. Moments later, Mandy walked into frame. She was dressed in a skin-tight white dress and tottering on unsteady heels. He remembered the outfit instantly, memories of previous trysts coming back to him in a flash. He watched as she sat on the bed, slowly taking off her trashy shoes and running her hands theatrically through her hair. She was talking, but he couldn't hear. He turned up the volume on the computer and realized that there was no sound on the video. Why had she... John's eyes grew wide as he watched himself sit down on the bed. When had she taken this, he wondered. He didn't remember there ever being a camera. The couple began to kiss and grope each other, falling backwards onto the bed laughing as John on screen pulled down her top, freeing Mandy's breasts. Wait, he thought. That's not me. That's not Mandy. What is this? He watched for another five minutes as the couple continued their passionate play, kissing and rolling around on the bed. He was about to turn it off when, suddenly, John on screen smacked Mandy hard across the face. And again. She was crying now, scrambling backwards as he lunged at her, tearing her dress and grabbing her hair. "Oh my God!" John said, watching his on-screen doppelganger assault this woman. The man onscreen took a fist full of Mandy's blonde hair and pushed her head back, smacking it off the headboard. The beating continued, getting more and more violent as John's mouth opened wider and wider. With a deep breath, John ejected the disc and snapped it in half, throwing the pieces into the trash. The meaning was clear: She could destroy his life too. * * * * * Andy's knee bounced nervously as he sat on his living room couch. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, his long hair tied back in a ponytail. It felt strange to be sitting here without wearing a skirt, or hose. Even though he was in boy's clothes, he still sat with good posture, his thighs pressed together. Alison held his hand, smiling while they waited. Molly gurgled from her nearby basket and the young girl stood and walked over to check on her. Andy watched as she took the baby from her basket and cradled her softly, shooshing the little girl back to sleep. He heard the key enter the front door and the sudden sound of Zoe and Emma chatting outside. He swallowed. "You'll be fine," Alison said, smiling at her boyfriend and laying her baby back in the basket. The door burst open and Emma ran in, casting her oversized school bag to the ground and shrugging off her summer raincoat. She stopped abruptly and looked up at Andy, tilting her head to one side. Zoe walked up behind Emma, fastening her bag as she replaced her keys and laying a hand onto the girl's shoulder. "Hello," Andy said, kneeling down in front of Emma. "Hello," she replied. "Who are you?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Love to L Satori and Vic for proof reading and encouragement.