Biker Bitch
By
Michele Nylons

Chapter Three: Super Glide

Natalie Styles wore her usual uniform of tight-fitting navy blue business suit, cream silk blouse, heavy black mascara, bright-red lipstick, ultra-sheer pantyhose and Christian Louboutin high heels.

“So here’s the deal. We’ve made you into half a girl. You have the tits. The rest comes later if you cooperate and get us what we want; provided you survive of course,” Natalie lit two cigarettes and gave one to Cassie.

“We’re going to send you back to the Beasts of Burden Motorcycle Club. You’ll convince them to take you back with open arms…but you’ll be working for us,” Natalie smiled.

“You’re fucking crazy. Those fuckers will kill me as soon as they see me,” Cassie blew smoke at the ceiling.

“We have a back story for you already. We paid and or persuaded some people down in Mexico to corroborate everything in your story. All you have to do is learn it by heart. There are hospital, hotel, and police records in Mexico that will confirm that you entered the country illegally and got a local doctor to tend to your wounds after your escape. He is a doctor the Beasts of Burden have used before to treat gunshot wounds so they can check,” Natalie lazily swung an expensive highheel from her toes.

“There are hospital records that will confirm that you undertook breast augmentation surgery there. The hotel records will reflect a four month stay and the police records will reflect arrests for solicitation and dealing drugs,” Natalie smiled evilly.

“Solicitation? Seriously?” Cassie coughed on her cigarette.

“Hey a girl’s gotta make a living and the drug busts will explain how you got the money to survive, paid for your tits, and set you up for your return to California” Natalie grinned.

“Ok you cunt. So I turn up as some transsexual goddess, wanna be biker. Even if they don’t tear me apart just for that; I’ll never get away with it. They will find out I’m a narc and fucking slice and dice me,” Cassie replied.

“You ever hear about Charles Falco? The California police invited him to infiltrate several California OMC’s or go to prison for drug dealing. He’s now in witness protection but he worked undercover for four years,” Natalie countered.

“We fix your face and teeth, teach you a bit more about to how to be a more convincing female, ramp up your self defence skills and teach you undercover tradecraft. When you’ve given us everything we want, we complete your sex reassignment surgery.”

“We’ll give you a cunt more realistic than mine and put you in Wit Sec. Other than being unable to spit out babies you will be a card carrying member of the fairer sex,” Natalie dropped her cigarette into her coffee cup.

“Something tells you didn’t volunteer for this assignment,” Cassie smirked.

Natalie just stared nonplussed at her shoe.

“What’s the alternative?” Cassie asked.

“Remember that shallow grave? We drop you there and call the Beasts’ clubhouse. When they turn up you try to explain what happened to the prospect they left to bury you and why you have tits. I think they will gang rape you for a while and then put you back in the hole you were supposed to be in,” Natalie lit another cigarette.

“Did your mother have any children who lived?” Cassie said sardonically.

“Fuck you,” Natalie blew smoke.

“Ok it’s a deal,” Cassie sighed.

“But I want two things,” she went on.

“A carton of Marlboro Menthol Lights,” she grinned.

“Oh you are such a faggot!” Natalie laughed.

“And a Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide,” Cassie smirked.

“Of course we were going to get you a bike anyway; even we know that you need an American made motorcycle to join an OMC,” Natalie said offhandedly.

“You can tell the Doc to put me under and do the tracheal shave, fix my nose and teeth in one go. Tell him to put in a bellybutton ring too while he’s at it,” Cassie said cynically.

“That’s a lot of surgery to do at once. There won’t be much time left after you recover to train you,” Natalie actually sounded concerned.

“Fuck that! Where do I sign?” Cassie asked.

Natalie produced a clipboard with a four page contract clipped to it and put in on the overbed table with a ballpoint pen. Cassie didn’t even read it before she signed it.

“Make sure you have my menthols when I come out of the shit!” Cassie barked and rolled over.

“Doctor!” Natalie screeched as she left the room and strutted down the corridor.

Cassie didn’t get any Negro-nurse sex when she woke up in the recovery room this time. A male agent was there to brief her on undercover tradecraft, surveillance, counter surveillance, and how to use the bugging and video capture devices she would be issued with.

As her trachea and nose healed a voice coach was bought in to teach her to talk with a feminine vociferation. The tracheal shave didn’t really change the timbre of Cassie’s voice but as she already had a high pitched voice, after the shave, it was simply a matter of educating Cassie to talk at all times with a feminine inflection. The man they bought in taught her to use dark, liquid, delicate releases, which gave her a smoky sexy voice.

She was given lessons in feminine deportment, makeup, mannerisms, and clothes sense. The all important feminine stride and glide would be taught to her once she was up and about.

After a week Cassie was allowed out of bed and began physical therapy. She ached a lot but was glad to be able to exercise again. At least her tits were fully healed.

“Come on bitch lets go for a run!” Natalie arrived in spandex tights, expensive Nikes and full makeup.

Cassie had been moved to a private room and was provided with a full wardrobe. She changed into the same PT attire as Natalie but sans makeup.

For a woman who smoked at least twenty cigarettes a day, Natalie put up a brutal pace and Cassie struggled to keep up with her. It was just great after all this time to be outside in the fresh air, running under trees turning to gold as autumn approached.

It was Cassie’s first outing as a woman wearing a sports bra, spandex leggings, and midriff T-shirt. It was exhilarating and a trifle unnerving feeling her breasts bounce for the first time as she ran. They ran for forty five minutes and when they arrived back at the accommodation block where Cassie now lived, Natalie wasn’t even puffing and her makeup was still perfect.

Natalie snatched her smokes out of her gym bag and lit one up.

“Tomorrow we do it for an hour, and then your self-defence training begins. Time’s ticking sister. Also you need to pay attention to your tutor regarding tucking, you appear to have a meatball sandwich in your leotard,” Natalie flicked her cigarette into the garden, picked up her gym bag and sprinted away.

Outside of instruction, Cassie was confined to her room which was a self contained unit with everything she needed. A fully stocked fridge and bar, clothes, cosmetics, shoes, were all provided. The place even had Fox cable. Meals were bought to her room and all she had do was pick up the phone if she needed anything. But she was given no outside phone line, internet access, or cell phone.

The next day they did the run again. Then Cassie was taken to a gym where her instructor asked her to show him what she could do in a fight. There was no Sense and Kohai shit; the guy was an ex Marine and was there to help her improve her already impressive fighting skills. He also showed her how to use a knife properly and how to turn almost anything that was in the immediate proximity into a weapon.

These lessons were programmed every day for the final four weeks and Cassie looked forward to them.

She was also given a regimen of drugs. The doctors had diagnosed that she had both chlamydia and gonorrhoea from her ordeal at the clubhouse and had prescribed drugs to cure the infections. She was given some pain relief but most of her wounds had healed and she didn’t take them. She was also taking a course of female hormones which were playing havoc with her moods but she had to admit that she now felt quite feminine and was seriously looking forward to the final reassignment surgery.

Cassie was required to learn her back-story by heart and recite it perfectly; every minute detail and embellishment.

Cassie had a daily meeting with FBI Agent Natalie Styles who would continue being her handler while she was in the field and they formed a recreant friendship that was more of an alliance.

They both knew that they had to be a team if this was going to work and they had to trust each other.

“Ok Cassie you’ve had your final briefing and you’re as ready as you will ever be,” Natalie said on their final day together at the facility.

“I’m ready I guess. So where are we? Quantico? Nah! But somewhere in Virginia or New England though,” Cassie raised her perfectly plucked brows.

Natalie just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t telling.

“Come with me and let me show you the toys you will leaving with,” she took Cassie’s hand, which surprised her, and led her to a hangar like structure.

“First off here is your Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide, with a custom painted cherry red Fat Bob fuel tank as per your instructions,” Natalie pulled a sheet off the bike and Cassie spent a good fifteen minutes checking it out.

She kicked it over and was impressed with the sound and steady hum of the engine, then she shut it down.

“Come over here. You have your new toy, now here is the shit,” Natalie led Cassie to a table covered with another dust cloth which she pulled off.

There first item that caught Cassie’s eye was the Glock G43 9mm pistol. Beside it was a Gerber Guardian back-up Tanto boot knife.

“No biker wannabe comes back from Mexico without the tools. Neither of those weapons can be traced and the ammunition is self loads but highly reliable. This is last resort shit ok?” Natalie turned Cassie to face her and she nodded.

“This pelican case holds all your surveillance gear. If it all goes to shit and you get the chance, close it and dial 666 on both latches and it will self destruct,” Natalie explained.

“And finally here is your iphone. My number is in there but it appears blank, just hit call with no number selected and that will be me, I’m available twenty-four seven,” she smiled disparagingly.

Natalie took both of Cassie’s hands in hers.

“Look; I’ve been a bitch to you. I didn’t want this job but I’ve come to respect you. I still don’t understand the whole gender bender thing really; but I respect it and I respect you. I only think of you as a woman named Cassandra now; Cameron has long gone,” Natalie looked down at her shoes, a little embarrassed at her sentimentality.

“It’s not going to be easy, what you are about to do, but if anyone has the balls, pardon the pun, to pull it off, oops there I go again, you do Cassie.”

“Just concentrate on getting back into the MC at first. Just be a biker. Once you're established we can work on surveillance and making cases ok?” Natalie’s voice was a little hoarse.

“Ok I got it from here. It’s not that hard. All I’ve got to do is convince a bunch of testosterone fuelled, vicious, misogynist, bigoted, retards to let a transsexual woman into their club as a fully-patched member and then start spying on the fuckers and the other MCs they do business with. What the fuck could possibly go wrong with that?” Cassie said sarcastically.

Natalie pulled Cassie to her and kissed her softly and briefly on the lips.

“Just be careful,” she whispered.

“Ok boys wrap this shit up. Blindfold this bitch and drop her off at this address,” Natalie gave one of the other operatives a post-it note with the address of a house in Reseda.

Cassie was blindfolded until she got on the plane which turned out to be a small executive jet.

“It’s a long flight ma’am but I’ll get you anything you need during the journey,” the flight attendant said.

He was a handsome young man who made no attempt to hide the fact that he was checking out Cassie’s ass, legs, and tits as he welcomed her on board and seated her. He deliberately leaned into her when he helped her with her seatbelt. Other than the two pilots up front, they were the only two on the plane.

Cassie smiled to herself. She was attractive and did have sex appeal after all. Part of her training had been in seduction. At first she had laughed, but the female agent assigned to teach her took the subject very seriously.

“Female operatives have huge advantages over our male counterparts. We have our looks, our bodies, our tits, our legs, and our cu… well you don’t have one of those but you do have a great ass; and I’m here to teach you how to use them to your advantage,” the agent said.

“There is no room for a prude in the field when you’re undercover. You fuck the ugliest guy in the room if you have to so you can gain that vital piece of information, or to get yourself out of a scrape. You may have to gangbang a bunch of assholes to save your ass but you live to fight another day”

“I’ll teach you all about seduction, foreplay, fellatio and anal sex. From what I’ve heard you are no novice, but techniques can always be improved,” she grinned.

But for all of her training in dress sense, deportment, voice coaching, and seduction; this was her first time out in the real world as the new improved Cassie and she was pleased to see the effect she was having on the flight attendant.

“Ok Cassie. Let’s take this new body of yours out for a spin shall we?” she grinned to herself.

“I’ll have a Martini, dirty please, Andrew,” she read his name badge and gave him a smile.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’ve been instructed not to serve alcohol on this flight,” Andrew stammered.

Cassie gave him a seductive smile and crossed her legs, swishing her nylons and showing off plenty of thigh.

“I’ll have a dirty Martini, Andrew. Right now please,” she beamed at him and raised an eyebrow.

Andrew clamoured away down the back of the plane to get her drink.

“This is going to be fun,” Cassie smiled and loosened her seatbelt a smidgen.

She waited for the plane to level out and then pressed the call button and Andrew came running.

Cassie was wearing a black pencil skirt with a kick-pleat, a white satin blouse, nearly-nude fifteen denier stockings, black microfibre full-cut panties and a matching bra to support her new B-cups. Her makeup was heavy but perfect, just as she liked it. The deportment instructor had complained about Cassie’s makeup choices, saying that she looked like a hooker. Natalie had responded that for all intents and purposes Cassie was just that; and they left it at that.

Cassie had had her hair professionally coloured and styled. She’d changed her hair colour to black with subtle ruby highlights. It was straight, shoulder-length, with bangs.

Cassie removed her seatbelt so she could relax and spread out to take full advantage of the large leather seat and she stretched her long legs in front of her on the small table. One highheel dangled from a nylon-clad toe, her ruby-red toenails visible through the gauzy nylon.

Andrew seemed fascinated by her shoe, watching it swing slowly back and forth. It was almost like he was hypnotised.

“You like that don’t you Andrew?” Cassie smiled salaciously at him.

Andrew just nodded, captivated.

“Would you like to touch it?”

Andrew gulped. Perspiration beaded his forehead.

“Sit!” Cassie pointed to the seat opposite her with her other foot.

Andrew sat down as if entranced.

“Take off my heels, my feet are sore,” Cassie instructed.

Andrew swallowed and carefully removed each of her black patent-leather spiked pumps. His hands were visibly shaking. He touched the toes of her left foot briefly while doing so and you could almost feel the sparks fly.

“Don’t be naughty; leave my feet alone.”

Andrew nodded and carefully placed Cassie’s highheels on the seat next to him.

“Do my feet smell?” Cassie raised an eyebrow.

“I err…I don’t think so,” Andrew mumbled.

“What do you mean you don’t think so! Sniff my shoes idiot and see if they do!” Cassie was having fun teasing this young man.

Trying out her seduction tradecraft.

Andrew eagerly bought one of her highheels to his nose and inhaled deeply. His face contorted with lust and a visible bulge tented his trousers.

“Try the other one,” Cassie instructed and dropped a foot in his lap.

She thought Andrew was going to come there and then but he contained his excitement and bought her other shoe to his face and breathed deeply.

“Well?” Cassie smiled.

“They smell wonderful Miss,” Andrew murmured.

“But we really don’t know do we? Not until you sniff my actual feet,” Cassie’s smile widened.

Andrew was visibly shaking.

“Well?” Cassie barked.

Andrew reached for the foot sitting in his lap but Cassie snatched it back.

“Don’t you dare touch my feet unless I tell you to do so! Understand!” Cassie snapped.

Andrew was taken aback.

“Lean forward you idiot!” Cassie ordered.

When he did Cassie slid her stocking-sheathed foot under his nose.

Andrew inhaled deeply and a look of pure pleasure passed over his face. Cassie let him sniff her foot for a minute or two.

“Ok. My foot is getting tired. You can hold it in place now.”

Andrew’s shaking, trembling hand caressed her foot. He held it by the ankle and lifted it closer to his face and savoured it like it was a precious blend of wine.

“Well?”

“Magnificent,” he breathed.

“Really? That good?”

Andrew nodded ardently.

“So good that you would lick it? Suck my toes through that gauzy reinforced nylon?” Cassie smiled.

Andrew’s began to shudder.

Cassie pressed her foot to his mouth and Andrew extended his tongue and explored her toes and then her sole. Finally he took all of her toes into his mouth and began to suckle them. His hand fell to his groin.

“Hey! You don’t get to play with your joystick, junior!” Cassie teased.

Andrew was stroking her calf, caressing her stocking-clad leg while sucking on her foot. His trousers looked like they were about to burst.

Cassie placed her other foot in his lap. Doing so she had to scoot forward and lay back on the seat and her tight skirt rode up so she was able to open her legs a little. Andrew got an eyeful of her panties and sweat started to run down his face.

“Alright. Take it out but don’t play with it!” Cassie instructed and Andrew eagerly opened his fly and freed his erection.

It was long, hard, and quivering. Almost angry, the red bulbous glans was dripping clear precum.

Cassie dipped a toe in the precum and Andrew gasped and his cock quivered. She teased him for as long as she thought he could hold back his orgasm, lightly stroking his cock now and then with her nyloned toes, and pushing her other foot further in his mouth. When she figured he couldn’t take anymore she gave him release.

She pressed the reinforced, dark stocking against his throbbing cock and stroked it with her foot. His cock exploded, spraying her foot and her calf with hot glutinous semen. Andrew gasped and sucked enthusiastically at her other foot while he ejaculated. He pushed his cock against her foot as the last of his spend spouted from his rigid member.

Cassie grinned. Yep she has what it takes!

“Ok. Clean it up now,” Cassie demanded taking her foot from his mouth.

Andrew looked perplexed. Then he smiled and reached for the napkin on the table.

“Not with that you idiot! You know what I mean!”

Realisation appeared on Andrew’s face. At first he looked reluctant but then he bowed to his task and eagerly lapped up his cum from Cassie’s foot and leg.

Cassie retracted her feet and put her legs up on the seat, leaving her heels on the floor. She smoothed down her skirt and was all business. Andrew put away his cock, zipped his fly and straightened himself up.

“Don’t just sit there Andrew! Go and get me another drink,” Cassie opened a magazine and purposely ignored him.

Fifteen minutes later as she sipped her drink, one of pilots came out of the cockpit and asked if everything was ok.

“Oh everything is wonderful,” she smiled up at him.

The pilot got an eyeful of her tits and long legs too before he returned to the cabin.

Cassie slept for most of the flight after that, waking just before landing. She used the bathroom and changed into a pair of sheer pantyhose she had taken from her carry on luggage. On the way back to her seat she saw Andrew was seated for landing. She dropped her cum-stained stockings in his lap as she walked past.

The FBI had rented Cassie a ranch house in her name in Reseda, not that far from her last abode. When she arrived she found all her personal belongings had been delivered and her bike was in the garage. Parked beside it was a small BMW coupe with a note hanging from the rear vision mirror.

The card read ‘A girl can’t spread her legs every time she needs a ride. Enjoy the Beamer, Natalie’ Natalie had put a bright red lipstick kiss on the note.

Cassie smiled and got to work unpacking and making the place her own. On the counter in the kitchen diner was a carton of Marlboro Menthol Lights.

She took a package of cigarettes from the carton and lit one up.

“Right! Let’s get this party started,” she said to herself, smiling at the empty room.

To be continued