Jim Sutton gave his face a last, long look in the motel mirror and pursed his lips in an expression that showed equal parts of anticipation, excitement and perplexity. The image that looked back at him was, to put it mildly, somewhat strange. From the neck up, he was a handsome young man with short, straight blond hair smoothly tucked into a snug wig cap. The rather chiseled male features that stared out of the mirror would have been disturbing to almost any onlooker. The fact was, they did not go with the rest of his reflection at all.
You see, from the neck down, Jim was a young woman, courtesy of a brassiere, silicon breast forms, a padded girdle, seamed black nylons and a waist cincher with garters. Jim touched his chin gingerly, noticing the long, fire engine red acrylic nails that had been carefully glued to his hands during a session at a manicurist an hour or so earlier. The nails were set off by a couple of ornate rings, a small gold wristwatch and a number of silver and turquoise bangles on his wrists. His toes, peeping through the open ends of the black patent leather mules on his feet, had been painted the same lascivious red by a pedicurist during his nail session. The four-inch high heels of the shoes caused the muscles of his calves to bunch attractively under the dark, sleek nylon of the stockings. He adjusted one of the garters carefully, and then heaved a deep, somewhat resigned sigh.
“Well, it’s now or never,” he thought to himself as he studied his reflection. “It’s time to see what the rest of me is going to look like.”
On the vanity table beside him was a wig stand with long curly blond hair showering down around an exquisitely painted female face. He stripped the hairpiece off and left it on the table momentarily while he lifted the wig stand and turned the stunningly beautiful face away from him. A long zipper ran from the top of the plastic “head” down to the bottom of the stand’s “shoulders.” Struggling to control his long nails, he gripped the zipper and pulled it up to the top of the head, revealing that the wig stand actually was a blank plastic foam form covered with a thin, carefully molded latex mask that he now peeled away from its base.
The mask was an extraordinary creation. The latex skin of most of the piece was only about an eighth-inch thick, making it extremely flexible and lightweight. The aquiline nose was slightly thicker, so that it would hold its shape even when stretched. Foam latex pads had been glued inside the face’s cheekbones to give them an elegant, sophisticated line. The lips were also molded in heavier rubber to insure that the large and sensuous mouth of the mask would retain its form, even if the wearer spoke, drank, ate or smoked.
The detailing of the mask was equally precise. The entire head had been airbrushed a light skin tone with a paint of liquid latex mixed with clear universal tints. The eyes had been airbrushed with a light blue “shadow” made of similar paint, and the cheeks had been given a dramatic pink blush that accentuated the hollows below the mask’s “cheekbones.”
Thin, finely shaped brows had been added with a layer of real light brown hair glued in place, and the lips had been glazed with a dark red latex “lipstick” that was almost identical to the shade of Jim’s toe and fingernails.
Setting the stand back down, he lifted the mask, holding its back open with both hands, and pulled it slowly over the crown of his own head, tucking his capped hair into place as he went. He fiddled with the mask’s delicate nose and sensual mouth for a moment, adjusting them to cover his own features, then centered the blank eyeholes so that his own eyes were precisely aligned with them. Finally, he found the zipper at the rear, and, with a gentle steady downward motion, closed the back of the mask, feeling it pull tight and smooth over his own face and head.
Looking at him in the mirror, the transformation was simply incredible! The features of the mask seemed to mold completely onto his face, changing it from male to female instantaneously.
He used his hands to smooth the unblemished latex skin over his own visage. It was a perfect fit. The skirt of the mask covered his neck and shoulders completely with barely a visible seam. Studying his reflection, Jim turned his head from one side to the other with satisfaction. The bottom of the mask was almost undetectable.
He lifted the wig, shook it out, and pulled it snugly over the top of his now-bald latex pate, inching its curly bangs down until they perfectly framed his exquisitely beautiful rubber face. With a few final strokes of his fingers to fluff the sides and back of the wig out to its maximum fullness, he peered at his reflection again and allowed himself to smile with satisfaction. The lovely features of the woman who stared back at him from the mirror mimicked his expression exactly.
The only flaw in the latex face was the area where his actual eyelids were visible through the molded eyeholes of the mask. He used a small brush and blue eye shadow to make his bare eyelids match the mask, then rimmed his eyes with a viscous black eyeliner and applied two sets of thick false eyelashes to his own lids with a tiny tube of cement, one pair on the top and another on the bottom.
Now his disguise was complete. When he blinked and fluttered his false lashes, his eyes seemed to be a part of the mask. Moreover, the mask itself had all but disappeared: once it had been applied to his face, it looked as genuine as real skin.
“Amazing,” he said to his reflection, feeling a keen sexual thrill as the gorgeous woman’s face he wore seemed to lip-synch his words.
Glancing at the tiny lady’s watch on his wrist he realized it was growing late. “I think it’s time to get dressed,” he said breathlessly watching as his rubber face mouthed the words.
He rose from the vanity, hips swinging in what almost seemed a caricature of a sexy female stride because of the high heels on his feet and the inches of padding that had been added to his hips and buttocks.
Picking up a long-sleeved black silk pullover from the bed, he wriggled into it, enjoying the soft feel of the knit fabric on his bare arms and back. A black leather miniskirt was also on the bed, and he pulled the sleek garment up over his enhanced derriere, zipping it closed at the back. The skirt ended about ten inches above his knees and had a snug, sinuous feel. He posed in front of the full-length mirror on the wall of the motel room, with his scarlet nailed hands on his hips.
To any observer, Jim Sutton had simply ceased to exist. His replacement was a tall, blond young woman with thick, dark lashes, a saucy full-lipped mouth and a gorgeous feminine shape.
“Wow!” he said, staring in disbelief at his image in the mirror. Somewhat nervously he fished a filter-tipped cigarette from an open package on the dresser, placed it between the mask’s lips and lit it with a match, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs and letting it trickle out slowly through the latex face’s nostrils. Studying his reflection as he tapped the cigarette into a glass ashtray, he took another puff, blew a thin stream of smoke into the air and smiled again with satisfaction.
“I can’t see a single weak point,” he said to himself as he gathered up a small black leather shoulder bag and placed the cigarettes and matches next to his wallet and keys inside it. He took a deep breath and slung the purse over his shoulder.
“I guess it’s time to see how the outside world reacts,” he said, having changed his voice into a breathy fsoprano almost without realizing it.
Although he was nervous about going out in public as a synthetic woman, Jim — who now considered himself to be “Janet,” his female alter ego — put his misgivings aside and concentrated instead on insuring that he used short, balance-beam steps and feminine movements in his brief walk to his car.
Actually, his high heeled shoes and sleek tight skirt really prevented him from doing anything else. The weight of the silicone-filled breast forms in his bra and their slight jiggle as hi moved reminded him to keep his shoulders back and limit the swing of his arms. He enjoyed hearing the click of his stiletto heels on the concrete sidewalk and was almost sorry to have to slide into his car for the short drive to Peggy Williams’ house.
Peggy was a long-time friend who had known about Jim’s cross-dressing ways since they lived together as roommates during their senior year at State U. They had met at a party hosted by a mutual friend, and Jim had mentioned that he was looking for someone to share the cost of his apartment. Peggy said she was moving out of rooms she shared with a girlfriend, and asked if Jim would mind if she took a look at his place. She had moved in the following weekend — as a roommate, nothing more.
For one thing, Peggy was seeing two other women simultaneously, and brought one of them home for an evening of passionate lovemaking shortly after she moved in with Jim. Jim simply assumed that she was a lesbian. Although he found her incredibly attractive, he figured she would have no interest in men, and considered himself lucky that she was willing to share rent with one.
At the time they began living together, Jim had been a transvestite for at least ten years. However, he was still closeted and only dressed in the privacy of their apartment went Peggy was out. As it happened, one weekend she returned early from an out-of-town trip with one of her two girlfriends and found him in full female regalia in the two-bedroom apartment’s living room, drinking chardonnay and listening to jazz records on the stereo.
Jim — rather, “Janet” — had been more shocked than Peggy, who swiftly overcame her initial surprise and peppered him with compliments about his feminine appearance and questions about how he did his make-up, how long he had been a transvestite and how he had started cross dressing. She quickly and completely entered into the spirit of his “hobby” and insisted on turning the occasion into a sort of pajama party, redoing “Janet’s” fingernails, painting “her” toenails and having “Janet” model various outfits for her. At the end of the evening, Peggy had dressed “Janet” in a filmy black negligee and slid into the sheets beside “her.”
They had made love for the first time that night, and their relationship had never been the same since. Janet confessed that she found it sexually exciting to have a “girlfriend” who, as she indelicately put it, “has the plumbing of a man.”
They remained together after graduation, when Peggy took a job in the marketing division of a specialty plastics company and Jim went to work as a programmer for a local software company.
Of course, they had moved from the smaller student apartment into a three-bedroom house in the suburbs more befitting their new status as professionals. Jim still thought of the house as “Peggy’s Place,” because she had been the one who picked it out. However, “Janet” had one of the bedrooms to herself, and used it for storing her wigs, makeup and growing wardrobe, as well as a private retreat when Peggy was working late at home on a new marketing campaign for her company and could not be disturbed.
Their relationship had remained remarkably kinky for more than five years. Peggy still insisted on having regular sexual relations with Janet, and the two women — one real, one counterfeit — often went out together for movies or plays, or dinner, drinks and dancing. Several of Peggy’s close women friends had met Janet, and sometimes when they came over for coffee and gossip on a Saturday afternoon, Jim was invited to join them, en femme, for girl talk.
At the same time, Peggy and Jim remained a devoted boy-girl couple; enjoying a relationship that was as close to marriage as could be imagined without a wedding. They attended most social functions and company parties as a male-female pair, and had a larger circle of friends who knew nothing about Jim’s part-time female persona, or Peggy’s lesbian lover, Janet.
As she drove to Peggy’s, Janet became accustomed to the sticky warmth of the latex mask that completely covered her head. Navigating the streets, she wondered exactly what her lover had in store for her.
The rubber mask had been a surprise present from Peggy that morning, as Jim had prepared to leave for work. Peggy had made a mysterious date with “Janet” for that evening, insisting that Jim take a room away from home to transform him. Jim had been more than a little surprised at her insistence on this point, since Peggy usually helped him get ready for their sessions together by doing his makeup and helping him get dressed. Despite his curiosity, Jim had not pressed her about her plans, and just before he left in the morning — carrying a bag containing the clothing Peggy had selected for him to wear — Peggy had brought out an oversized hat box containing the special mask and wig, and had told him that she wanted him to wear them for her.
Jim had been surprised at the mask. He supposed it was something that she had one of the technicians at her plastics firm make, although he wasn’t sure just how she had explained her need for the exotic garment.
As “Janet” pulled into the garage, she noticed that all the shades on the downstairs windows had been drawn. She slid out of the car and used her keys to open the inside door to the house.
Inside, the rooms were dim. A note was on the butcher block counter with five words written on it in large block letters: “Come into the living room.”
Puzzled, Janet complied. What she saw when she entered took her breath away.
Two stunningly attractive women, identical twins, were sitting on the sofa. Both had black hair piled high on their heads in exaggerated bouffant. Each was dressed in a skintight PVC catsuit, opera-length shiny black vinyl gloves and a pair of ankle-strap red leather shoes with open toes and six-inch high heels. Both had shiny red leather waist cinchers laced tightly around their midsections, giving them almost grotesque wasp waists and pushing up their ample breasts, which were visible through cutouts on the catsuits.
Spotting Janet, the two exotic women rose from the sofa simultaneously and walked toward her with a bold and undulating stride, partly induced by the ridiculously high heels of their shoes, partly by their radically cinched girdles.
As they neared, Janet could see they were exactly identical in every respect: each had sharply drawn penciled eyebrows, heavy brown eye shadow and, full, sensual wine-red lips. Each silently took one of Janet’s hands and together they drew her forward into the room. One leaned forward provocatively, her breasts pressing against Janet’s as their lips brushed together then held in a soft, passionate kiss.
The other stooped quickly and slid Janet’s leather skirt up her legs, then used one of her gloved hands to free the swelling shaft trapped in the crotch of Janet’s padded girdle.
Janet gasped as the second woman’s lips closed over her engorged penis and began moving rhythmically back and forth. The first woman kissed Janet again with a low moan of sexual arousal deep in her throat.
Later, Janet marveled at how long it had taken for her to come inside the second woman’s mouth. She would not have believed it possible that such an incredibly erotic experience could have been prolonged for so many minutes. As the first woman continued to passionately kiss Janet, rubbing her breasts and darting her tongue inside her mouth, the second woman sucked Janet’s member completely clean and tucked her spent cock back inside her girdle. Then the two exotically dressed sex maidens led Janet to the couch, seating her between them, still holding her hands.
For moments, none of them said anything. Then the second woman, the one who had performed such exquisite oral sex on Janet, spoke up.
“Well, what do you think?” she said in a voice Janet immediately recognized as Peggy’s.
“My God! Peggy –” Janet stammered. “This is totally fantastic!” Staring closely, she suddenly realized that her lover was wearing an incredibly lifelike latex face similar to her own, but with completely different features.
Turning to the other “twin,” Janet stuttered: “But who — who is this?”
The other sex maiden smiled broadly, her latex face showing her expression of pleasure as realistically as if it were her own face. Putting a gloved finger to her lips as a gesture for silence, she stripped the huge raven hairpiece from her head, leaving it completely bald. With a quick movement of her gloved hands, she unzipped the back of her black vinyl turtleneck and then the rear of the latex head, slipping it off with a soft rubbery rustle to reveal a gorgeous light-skinned black woman with short, nappy curls, high cheekbones and dark, deep set eyes.
“I’m Tayisha Gaines,” she said, still smiling. “I work with Peggy at Specialized Plastic Products. I’m the one who made all three of our faces,” she added, holding her mask in front of her.
Peggy patted Janet on the thigh, and then peeled off her own latex disguise. “Tayisha and I used to be lovers,” she said, fluffing her short brown pageboy hairdo out after she had slipped out of her mask. “I told her I needed a special favor for another girlfriend that could only be done by a special woman. Since Tayisha is a very, very special girlfriend, she was glad to help me prepare for this occasion.”
Still snugly zipped inside her own mask, Janet was perplexed. “But what special occasion are you talking about?” she said in confusion.
Peggy’s smile broadened and she winked at Tayisha. “How quickly these girls forget,” she said wryly. Turning back to Janet, she took her hands. “This is the sixth anniversary of the night I first met you, dear — as Janet. I wanted to give you a special treat to mark a special turning point in both our lives.”
Janet shook her latex covered head in disbelief. “My God,” she said finally. “I had completely forgot. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected you to cook up something like this.”
Peggy leaned forward and kissed Janet gently on her soft latex lips. “It isn’t every woman who is lucky enough to have a lover who is also her best girlfriend,” she said. Nodding at Tayisha, she added, “Or who is lucky enough to have another girlfriend who will help her show her lover how much she appreciates her. Now you just wait here while we go put our faces on — literally. I have booked a table for the three of us at the Dungeon, a special club that features live fetish acts. Later, we three girls will come back here and put on our own private fetish performance. Tayisha and I plan to give you the night of your life. Of course, you will be expected to give us an equally pleasurable evening.”
Janet sighed and smiled. “Peggy, you are incredible — and Tayisha is utterly fantastic,” she said, looking at her lover and her new girlfriend. “I can’t imagine anything better than this.”
Peggy and Tayisha looked at each other and smiled as they stood up. “You don’t have to, sweetheart,” Peggy said, touching Janet gently on her latex cheek and mouthing a kiss at her. “Between Tayisha and me, we have enough imagination for all three of us.”