by John Dylena
He stood in the shower and let the hot water flow over him as he mentally drew up a plan. The battery in his car was low, and since he purchased the cheap model, it would take hours to charge thanks to the poor quality charger that his apartment building installed. Not only that, but not every spot had a charger and all of them were being used when he came back. By now, he would have just enough juice to get around town.
I could find a premium charger and pay for a supercharge, he thought. Then I could get out of town, but I would have no money left…
On his way up to his room, his landlord stopped him and informed him that he had withdrawn Cody’s rent. Now he really was broke.
I guess my only option is to try to hide in plain sight. I could clean up my apartment and make it look like Chelsea lives here instead of me.
With his mind made up, he stepped out of the shower and dried off. There was no point to getting dressed. Instead, Cody just threw on a pair of boxers and started cleaning. It wouldn’t be hard to make this look like a woman’s apartment. He had no pictures of himself anywhere, and the only thing that hung on the wall was a movie poster that he had received when he went to a midnight showing.
Since magazines and newspapers were no longer printed, he could easily find and download a couple female-specific magazines. In the time leading up to his first time out as a woman, Cody had purchased several of them anyway, and since all of the clothing items were purchased on the internet and delivered to “Chelsea,” Cody was regularly receiving catalogs.
Armed with large black trash bag, he went about his apartment and tossed everything inside that wasn’t clothes. Pizza boxes, empty beer cans and liquor bottles; the typical trash items found in a bachelor’s pad.
He lugged the black bag over his shoulder like Santa Claus and marched out his front door toward the trash bin located at the end of the hall. In his mind, he played back the cleaning frenzy fit for a montage and made sure he didn’t accidentally toss something of value in the bag. At the bottom of the trash chute was a compactor and furnace. Anything tossed into the chute got scanned and sorted. Organic waste was composted, and everything else was either smashed, burned, or recycled.
With the floor clear, he turned on the pie-sized robot that mopped, scrubbed, and vacuumed his floors. The machine came to life after a moment of lag, and Cody realized it had been almost two months since he last used the robot. Goddamn, my place is a mess.
While the robot worked on the floors, he dusted and scrubbed the elevated surfaces. It was 3a.m. when he finally finished, and after taking a quick whiff of his body odor, he realized it was a mistake to shower before cleaning. His eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep on the couch, but not before setting the alarm to get him up early in the morning.
It was noon by the time his apartment was finally clean. His body reeked, and Cody once again climbed into the shower. The hairs on his body had yet to grow back, and after scrubbing with feminine wash and shampoo, he was ready for Chelsea’s arrival.
All of his male clothes were packed away, and fortunately he had enough outfits to last him a couple of days. Since his plan was to hide in plain sight, he might as well return to the bar and have a couple of drinks.
Cody stood in his bedroom and stared at the clothing placed neatly on the plain gray sheets of his bed. The outfit that he chose wasn’t flashy. It was sleek and elegant; sexy, but not an ensemble that would draw too much attention to him.
The lingerie was first. The black lace bra was strapless, as the dress that he picked out for the night only had one strap. It was silky smooth and made of a stretchy material that was the color of coffee. It had a diagonal hem that showed off his upper left thigh while reaching down his right knee.
He decided not to wear stockings, and on the bed next to the dress were the heels he picked out. They were five inches tall with a couple of thick straps that curved up his foot and around his ankle. His toes would be exposed, but painting them dark red to match the lipstick he planned on wearing would be no problem. Much like coloring his eyes or the hair on the wig, painting his nails involved applying an eyedropper of color to the already smooth and polished surfaces of his toes. The paint was odorless and dried almost instantly.
Slipping on his bra, Cody packed the falsies into his cups. The color of the fake breasts almost perfectly matched the tan color of his skin. The seams of the falsies were visible only for a moment before the edges quickly adjusted themselves to match his skin tone, making the mounds on his chest look like the real deal.
When he had first purchased the breasts months ago, the added weight threw him off. But now he was used to wearing the breasts, and after a quick test of bouncing and shaking, Cody moved on to the next piece of the puzzle.
He was an average man in many ways. Hair and eye color, height, intellect, and dick size. Fully erect, his penis would reach six inches. But with the improvements in body modification, adding a couple of inches to his manhood was as simple as writing a check.
The gaff that Cody created for himself was simple, but effective. With his manhood safely tucked away, he slid on the black lace panties. The light, stretchy fabric hugged his groin and tickled the smooth, hairless skin on his ass.
The corset gave him the curves he needed and before slipping on the dress, he sat down at the vanity in his bathroom and painted his nails. A minute or so later, he returned to his bedroom and stepped into the dress. It hugged the newly-developed curves of his body, and from the neck down, he had the body of a woman.
His fingers fumbled with the thin straps and metallic buckle that wrapped around his ankles. He had worn these heels only once before, as they didn’t match most of the outfits he owned.
“But that’ll be fixed soon enough,” he said to himself as he inspected his body in the mirror. The carpeted floor dulled the satisfying clicks his heels would’ve otherwise made, but the sounds bounced off the bathroom tile when he walked up to his vanity. The eye drops lasted twenty-four hours, but like almost every other part of the body, permanent alteration was available.
He inserted gold a pair of gold chandelier earrings decorated with small diamonds into his ears. They lightly tugged on his earlobes and swished back and forth whenever he moved his head.
He tiled his head back and looked up at the flat gray ceiling of his bathroom, preparing to let the first drops of color into his eyes. The sting of the eye drops was something he had yet to get used to. Changing the color of the iris, something encoded in one’s genes, was difficult, and it came with a price. While not severe, the chemical burn did sting a little and left the user momentarily blind. The side effects of the application often caused frequent users of the dye to pay for the gene therapy to permanently change their eye color.
Cody forcibly closed his eyes and held them shut. Tears flowed from the corners and he tensed up. The burning sensation dulled after a couple of seconds and opening his eyes back up, he was greeted by the blinding white light; a light that was his worst enemy the morning after a night of heavy drinking. As day turned to night, the brightness of the light bulb shifted from blindingly-white to a soft orange. This made trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night easier.
The whites of his eyes were red and irritated, but staring back at him in the mirror were a pair of amber-brown irises. The pain vanished and his tears dried up, and with the trial over, he painted his face.
Cody was thin, but not feminine. Obesity was a thing of the past, as anyone could purchase over the counter pills that burned up the fat in foods before it congealed in the usual places. He was average, almost androgynous, and even though he didn’t have the rough features or the chiseled jaw of a male model or action hero, he was still masculine in appearance. However, all it took was the right amount of makeup and to any stranger on the street, he would be a woman.
He sat at his vanity and looked at his reflection, then at the makeup on the glossy counter top, then back at himself. Cody took a deep breath and pushed aside the heavy truth behi
nd tonight’s makeover. His goal wasn’t to look passable—he needed to be unmistakably a woman; to be looked at twice not because the men searching for him would see the resemblance and need a second look to confirm it, but because that man had to look twice because of Cody’s—or rather, Chelsea’s—beauty. The only way the mob would know that Chelsea and Cody were the same would be to lift up the skirt of his dress and pull down the front of his panties.
Cody sighed heavily as he picked up the foundation brush, the light reflecting off the shiny coat of paint on his nails.
His lips were colored maroon and his eyelids the color of grapefruit. In the silence of his bathroom, he combed his eyelashes with the tiny brush that made them black as a starless night. The rosy blush that he applied to his cheeks was faint but present and he held the synthetic wig in his left hand. The clear strands of hair took on the color of the dye: burnt umber. With his eyes the color of rust and the reddish-brown wig on his head, Cody became Chelsea.
He covered the skin-colored voice changer with a rhinestone choker, and his new sultry, silky, man-melting voice filled his ears. Cody smirked. The woman looking back in the mirror was the best he had ever looked. Let’s just hope the mob goons are convinced.
Day turned to night and Cody stepped out of the cab onto the sidewalk in front of the bar. The night was still young, and the line for the club was short. In front of him were two men, one fit, clean, and shaven, the other burly with a beard that went down to his chest. The two men eyed Cody as he stepped into the line behind them. He looked away from their gaze and felt his cheeks redden.
Fidgeting, he moved his tiny purse, a designer knockoff, in front of his crotch. The bigger man smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but the bouncer waved the three of them in. As soon as Cody stepped through the narrow wooden doors, he moved off to the side, skirting the crowd that the two men entered and made a bee line for the bar.
He looked back and saw them looking for him, but after a couple of seconds the two men shrugged and disappeared into the crowd. Cody wasn’t gay, but he assumed the two men were. They probably just wanted to say hello, but what if they knew he was a man and they wanted him for a threesome?
He pictured it in his mind: The burly man would gently push Cody onto his knees, unzip his pants, and whip out his meaty dick. While Cody pleasured the man with his mouth, his friend would slide his dick into Cody’s ass and the two men would kiss while they both penetrated him.
“Oh shit,” he said to himself, remembering that he was in the club. He shook the threesome from his mind and bit his hand trying to stem the flow of blood to his dick as he scrubbed the scene from his mind’s eye. Cody’s face was still flushed when he slid onto a stool at the bar, still wondering why he let the scene play out in his head.
“What’ll it be, miss?”
Cody jumped at the sudden appearance of the bartender, earning a snicker from the man behind the counter. “Stressful day?”
“You have no idea. Whiskey ginger,” Cody replied, rubbing his head and looking at the floating numbers on the wall clock. Then he looked at the thin metal band on his wrist. Made of smooth polished metal, the watch had no face. It looked and acted like a bracelet until the wearer held their wrist in front of them. The holographic numbers would appear, then disappear when moved away.
His own watch matched the time on the clock: 8p.m. An hour ago, on the other side of town, Cody was supposed to have been meeting a liaison for the mob. He was supposed to have handed him a card with ten grand on it, only now he was on the run, hiding from them in plain sight.
Here I am, sitting at a gay bar, dressed like a chick, paranoid and hiding from the mob. Just glad I don't have to worry about guys hitting on me here. Cody lifted his drink in the air, toasted to fate and took a long sip. The whiskey hit him like a slap to the face. He felt the burn of the alcohol slide down his throat and warm his body.
By chance, he happened to look in her direction. It all happened on a whim. No sound, nor visual cue made Cody lean back and look off to his left; he just happened to do so. And there she was, walking toward him parallel to the bar, behind all the other patrons seated on the stools.
The flashing lights of the dance stage mixed with the neon glow of the lights above the bar illuminated her. She wore a tight latex dress and stockings with a high heel connected to them. She was like a silhouette, a shadow that moved through the bar. Her outfit was a shiny black, yet the light moved around her instead of reflecting off of the glossy fabric of her attire.
Her hair was red, not a bright red like strawberries or apples, but the color of wine. Her eyes matched the color of her hair, and her lips were crimson in stark contrast to her fair skin. She wore elbow-length gloves made of the same material as her stylish, revealing dress.
The woman noticed Cody staring at her and he quickly averted his gaze. He took another swig of the drink, which the bartender had apparently just refilled, and buried his head in his hands.
Oh, god. What am I going to do?
Cody knew he’d get kicked out and likely blacklisted if he made her believe that he was an actual woman to get her to sleep with him, but she was too beautiful to pass up. The way her long red hair moved as she walked; the luscious curves of her body; her plump breasts, long legs, and piercing eyes; she was perfection. A woman like that was one in a million, and an opportunity that shouldn’t be wasted.
Cody lifted his head and was surprised to see her sitting down next to him. His heart raced as he searched for the right words to say to her. Do I hit on her? Do I tell her I’m actually a man?
She smiled playfully at him and he made up his mind.
“Hi, my name’s Haley,” she said to him, speaking loudly over the staccato beats of the music that flooded the dance floor.
“Chelsea,” he replied with a smile.
“Never seen you before. Are you new in town?” Haley asked as she motioned to the bartender.
“Just moved here a month ago. This is my first time here,” Cody lied, taking another sip of his drink. The alcohol was starting to affect him. His body was tingling and the lights in the background started to blur together.
“I love your outfit,” Haley purred. “So much so that I just want to rip it off of you.”
Cody choked on his drink and had to cover his mouth to stop himself from spitting it all over Haley and the bar. She laughed at his reaction. It was a cute, melodic laugh, and with each passing second, Cody fell more and more in love with this woman.
God, I hope she’s bisexual, he thought, looking past Haley at the people on the other side of her. They whispered to each other then grabbed their drinks and left.
“Chelsea?”
Cody realized that he hadn’t heard a word of she had been saying. “Yeah?”
Haley leaned forward and Cody took his eyes off of her face to focus his gaze on the hand that she had placed upon his thigh. Her touch was gentle and her skin soft and warm. He looked back at her face and she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but smile back and he felt his heart flutter.
“Listen, Haley,” he began, “there’s something I need to—”
She cut him off with a kiss and Cody felt his body melt from the touch of her lips. Fuck it, he thought. I’m going to land her. He kissed her back, and held her head with his right hand as he slid his left up her stomach toward her breasts.
They kissed passionately, their tongues caressing each other’s between their lips. Cody felt her hand slide up his thigh until she reached his hip. When he felt it move inward toward his crotch, he panicked. He removed his hand from her breasts and placed it on hers, stopping it from moving any closer to his groin and the truth of his identity.
Haley pulled away from him. “I’ve got a back room all to myself here in this club. How about you join me there?” She playfully bit her lip and Cody was ensnared.
“Lead the way,” he replied, and Haley grabbed his hand.
She climbed up off of the stool and led him down past the ba
r away from the crowd where they stopped at a door guarded by a large man in a suit. He nodded to Haley and opened the door for her.
Cody watched Haley enter the room. She walked backwards, her hands clasped behind her back and a smile on her face until she disappeared into the unlit room. He ignored the bouncer who stared him down as he walked past. The door closed behind him and he was engulfed in darkness.
“Haley?” he called out uncertainly.
“Over here, Chelsea!” she said, her voice echoing off the walls. Cody remained still, afraid to move lest he trip over something. He heard the sound of footsteps in addition to the clicks of her high heels. They were heavy, and Cody felt the floor tremble at their every impact. His heart thumped in his chest, his arousal replaced with fear.
Then the lights turned on and Cody’s heart sank.
Haley laid spread out across the smooth leather couch, the hem of her dress up to her waist and her gloved hand rubbing her smooth, toned thighs. Standing behind her were two men, both wearing dark suits, with massive, incredibly ripped bodies that threatened to rip apart the clothes that they wore.
He turned around, but a third guard stood between him and the door he had entered through. The man’s hand moved slowly away from his groin and Cody’s eyes widened when the guard brushed aside the bottom of his jacket to reveal a holstered pistol. Cody remained still as he looked back at Haley, whose playful smile turned wicked.
“You almost fooled me, you know? That outfit; that makeover; those eyes…”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cody replied, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
“You make a very attractive woman, Cody. It’s a shame that you had to be a man, otherwise I would be all over you on this couch. I’d be forcibly—but carefully—removing that dress as I covered your body with kisses, my fingers snaking up your legs and into your cunt…”
