The plan was simple +++ kiss him +++ wipe off lipstick +++ before +++ knock myself out as well!

Ok, I know it was originally in three snippets, but part three worked out too long and I think the split is in a good place.
Part Three.

It took me a while to realise I was awake, and that I was laying their feeling very, very, smug with myself.
I stretched out twisting and curling my toes with that glorious feeling of a cat that has not only just had the cream, but had the peaches and strawberries to go with it and very much enjoyed it. And in my case it was the ever so glorious feeling of having been well and truly fantastically fucked out of my tiny mind.

Hang on there, I can't be feeling that. It’s not possible. I’m a boy not a girl.

So why do I feel like I want to run through meadows full of flowers with the sun shining on me in a summer dress with a silly grin on my face and kissing someone stupid. And most positively, absolutely, gloriously, wickedly sexy.

Oh.

And there is this little thought lurking at the back of my mind, too, saying. You’re in love, stupid. And you have just been made love too as well. Isn’t life wonderful. I smile to myself, confused. Part of me thinking. Isn’t this fantastic, isn’t this great! And another part of me is thinking, No? That's not right… are you crazy! Anyway, you have a job to do. Remember. A computer to break into.

What?

I open my eyes and see a ceiling high above me. This has to be one hell of a super luxury modern hotel room.
Someone stirs beside me. For a brief moment I think of a cute Korea girl in a sparkling blue halter-top mini-dress. Then I remember. Wolfgang. And no, this is not a hotel room. This is Wolfgang’s castle. His bedroom.

Oh, shit, do I remember.

The plan was simple, I would get Herr Müller alone in his office, make an excuse to powered my nose or something. Put on the lipstick. Go back and kiss him. Catch him and lower him to the floor or chair, or whatever was close ten seconds after the kiss. And then quickly wipe off the knock-out lipstick before it worked its way through the lipstick I already had on underneath and I knock myself out as well!

Only that is not what happened. He kissed me straight after he stopped hugging me and lead me holding my hand to his office while I giggled, and then we quickly got passionate and lost our clothes and ended up naked in the bedroom that just happened to be next to his office. Well I kept my stockings on as men go nuts making love to a naked woman wearing stockings. Well, it is kinda sexy, isn’t it?

Wait a minute. I am supposed to be… Emma, or is it Max. I am sure I am Emma.

And then I realise I’ve been bloody screwed over by my own side, the bastards. I was Max, or I had been as they had turned me into Emma. They screwed with my head and body to do it. I was now Emma and there was no way going back given how far they had gone. It had to be a one way street to make it work and they knew it. The Boss lied to me. She has never lied to me. Well, about an op, anyway.

I listened to Wolfgang Müller’s breathing. Slow and even. He was asleep. Time to escape and get the hell out of here before he finds out it has all been a trick. No! Damn it. Time to break into his computer and then get the hell out of here. After all you have a Harrier Jump Jet waiting with your name on it.

I slip naked from the bed and catch a look at myself in the big mirror as I trip across the bedroom showing my naked quim and boobs and stockinged legs as I bend to grab my slinky little dress and spike heel sandals. And yes, I do look super sexy.

I am so going to kill the tame shrinks when I get back to the office. Because I am going to spend months and months in therapy after all this is over.

I bend and pick-up my tiny clutch purse I left discarded on the floor. Not going to tell the tec guys that. They went on forever about taking care of it. It does not look big enough to hold anything but a couple of lipsticks and the few other bits of make-up I have in it. But it is however a self-powered four terabyte blue tooth solid hard drive.

In his office I switch on the computer and hope the passwords I was given still work. I get the tiny dedicated blue-tooth USB from its concealed pocket in the hem of my dress and get to work on his pc. Then while it is down loading I pull my dress on and look around trying to see where my knickers are. Well I’m not going back in the bedroom if they are in there, so will just have to go commando and make sure I do not flash anyone. I check how the high speed download is going while doing up the fiddly slim ankle strap buckles of my heels. A pain to do, but they look great.

As I make my way down the corridors and stairs I am kind of surprised how easy it has all gone. There is a lift, but lifts can be switched off leaving you trapped inside them. So stairs are safer even when going down them in six inch heels.

Something has changed within me. I mean more than that I now have a real and not man made fake vigina between my legs and I guess that means I have the rest of the kit and caboodle up inside me as well. I know it is possible to do that sort of thing now. No I mean in my head. It is female in there now, and I like it. I know they had to do something so I would have sex with Wolfgang.

I can hear awful medieval music coming from somewhere. It must be from Errol Flynn’s hall. I pass waiters taking food out of a series dumb-waiters, I smile at them as they try to work out who I am and what am I doing in their clearly non-guest hallway, and if I am important and they have to be nice to me, or I am just an annoying guest getting in their way. Usefully a little further on a sign points down a steep staircase saying ‘Kitchen’.

I carefully make my way down them holding onto the rail. Super high heels and steep staircases do not go together. I know it is silly, but I really am not sure if I am Max plus Emma, or Emma plus Max. And it is bugging me. At the bottom a door with a round window leads straight into the kitchen.

Soon as I enter everything stops dead as about twenty men turn and stare at me. I guess down here they do not often see females. Especially ones who are Herr Müller’s guests. A radio is blaring out pop music. I spy the kitchen door into the courtyard on the far side of the room. The quickest and easiest way there is past the office. Except the head chef is standing in the doorway of his office staring like his staff. The Four Tops start to blast out of the radio.

OOooh, Sugar pie honey bunch
You know that I love you
I can't help myself…

Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I start dancing, jigging around. My version of sixties girl dancing. The stares turn to smiles and grins, following every move I make. I remember embarrassingly just how much of me is on view in this tiny, clingy little dress. I mean I am bra-less and they can see that.

You come and you go
Leaving just your picture behind
And I kissed it a thousand times
When you snap your fingers

I am by the chef now, I dive in and wrap my arms seductively around his neck and hang on him and kiss him full on the lips and it is nice. That surprises me. I like it.

Then I pinch a cigarette from the open pack in his hand as I move away smiling at him, he grins. I let the cigarette hang down un-lit from my pink lipstick lips like I am doing a Humphrey Bogart impersonation as I dance away from him thinking all I need now is a hat to get it right while trying to channel Sandi Shaw and Dusty Springfield.

And there's nothing I can do
Ooh, cant' help myself, no I can't help myself,
Sugar pie honey bunch

I twirl around and am closer to the outside door. Lost in my own world of music for the moment. Flashes of Wolfgang Müller making love to me bring me to a halt by the back door where confused I reach for the door handle and give them all a little shy wave and slip out into the courtyard.

…can't help myself
I love you and nobody else
Sugar pie honey bunch……

The door closes behind me cutting off the music. I survey the curved courtyard.

There is a delivery van conveniently waiting a couple of hundred feet away from me at the big wooden gates in the archway ready to leave. They are just starting to open. I have to be quick now if I want out of here, but I keep thinking of Wolfgang Müller kissing me.

A quick glance shows the nearest limo driver is leaning on the bonnet of his S class Mercedes. Good. They are nice and heavy and built like tanks. I fix a smile on my face and move as seductively and slinky as I can over to him. And Boy! Can I do that I think rather pleased with myself.

“Hi there, got a light for a girl? Can you believe they won’t let me smoke inside.” I pout, tipping the un-lit cigarette up with my lips as if to make my point.

He follows me as I moved out of sight of the other drivers going further back into the archway of the garage entrance and leaning back against wooden garage doors. He grins looking at my tits as he reaches for his lighter. And I think Sorry, and grab his jacket while bring my knee up hard between his legs and twisting him round as he drops to fall lent against the garage doors.

“Sorry, but needs must.” I say to him and pull the driver’s door open.

I slip into the seat. I would kick off the heels if I could, but the ankle strap buckles are tiny and it would take forever.

The keys are in the Ignition, so one quick turn has big petrol lump powering into life. I look up to see the delivery van is already through the gates. Shit. I must move fast, now.

I select drive quick as I can, not as fast as when you could just yank the selector lever back, but that’s progress for you, you have to use the stupid mouse thing nowadays.

Yank the handbrake off and floor the throttle. We surge forward gaining speed. Engine roaring. I see people turning to look at us. We are two hundred feet from the gate. At least there is no little old lady coming out of the guard room with a machine-gun to fire at us.

In the seconds between this and the gates. I decided that this is my last job. I am not stupid. I know I am a completely different person to who I was. But this is who I am now and I like me. A twist of the steering wheel lines us up and the big lump of metal powers us to ramming speed and we charge towards the narrowing gap in the closing gates.
Get the Harrier spooled up, boys. Emma’s on her way!

BANG! POOF!

The Mercedes’s rear end jumps six feet off the ground as the nose comes to an abrupt, sudden halt.
The airbags smacks me in the face and side and I groan as the S-class comes crashing back down to earth, bouncing up and down. The nose mangled in the gate

“Bastards”, I think as I see the gate are not wooden after all, but metal cover with wood to make them look old. “Bastards.” I think again.

I am vaguely aware, even though stunned, my ears singing. That Miss Korea has appeared by my window and is pointing a thingy at me, and while I am wondering what the ‘thingy’ was. I hear a soft putt and an “Ow!” comes from my lips as my arm stings and I think, I hope Müller doesn’t have a laser beam down in the basement, then blissfully, darkness descends…

To be continued…