The Queen of the Office
Anwyn couldn't believe it. She had only been engaged for a single day and she was already arguing with her fiancé Anthony.
"What the hell do you want with this?" She pointed at the mask of her own face that was in her hand.
"You have one of me" Anthony evaded. He was still dressed as Angela in a sexy angel outfit with a pair of wings, a halo and white heels.
"That's not the point. Why do you want to look like me? I checked the suit and it was made for a man." Anwyn pressed.
"I couldn't think of anyone sexier that I'd rather be for a day."
Anwyn normally would have been flattered by that but she knew that he was trying to get around her to avoid answering the question. Angela's face didn't show Anthony's true face beneath and she couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or angry underneath that mask.
"Nice try. I'll store the compliment for later. Now answer the question properly!"
"You ever hear the expression to live in another man's shoes. Well I've heard you complain so much about your job recently I thought we might swap to see what it was like in each other's life for a while. And you've told me that as Angela I've just been playing at being a woman and I don't know what it's really like. I was going to suggest we swap lives for a week. I was hoping to wait a while and sort of warm you up to the idea first."
Now at last he was telling the truth. Anwyn thought about the idea for a minute. She thought about what it would mean for her and any consequences it may bring. She could talk to her brother in the pub as Anthony and find the truth of what he thought about her. She could look up several people's driving records whilst at the DVLA and have some fun and she could find out everything about her future husband. She was sorely tempted by the offer, but she couldn't let him off that easily.
"Alright, you're on!" She told him. "But there are a number of conditions. First we wait a week so we can learn about each other's jobs. Secondly we do nothing to make each other look foolish or anything that we wouldn't normally do. Third no sex whilst we are disguised. I couldn't cope with making love to a copy of myself. Finally the mask and disguise of me gets destroyed at the end of all this."
Angela marked off each of the conditions on her fingers and then considered for a second before answering.
"You're on. See the was no need to get all wound up about this." Angela put her finger in her mouth coyly in a sexy pose.
You can stop doing that and give me my boyfriend back NOW Angela." Anwyn was still wound up enough to put up with his antics. Angela turned did a sexy wiggle of her bum and swaggered back off upstairs.
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Mark's existence in the spare room had lasted a day by which time Theresa had decided that maybe it was better if he wasn't seen around the house at all with a black eye. What would the neighbours think if they saw him like that? They'd think that he'd been fighting like a common labourer. So he'd been given some things, a sleeping bag and told to sleep at his pokey little office until his black eye had gone. It was such a big one that Mark reckoned that he might have it for at least two weeks.
So it was that he'd had quite a bit of time to think about what he was going to do about Angela Clemence. He could expose her to the media but to his knowledge she’d done nothing but help someone. If she was really a Transsexual then she probably had enough problems on her plate as it was and she didn’t need him making it worse. However there was the throb on his eye to consider against that.
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Anthony had persuaded Anwyn that she needed some practice being him and had suggested that she do what he normally did on a Monday night and go down the King’s Arms. Bernard was away in the Caribbean on his honeymoon so wouldn’t be back until the following week, but it would give her a non threatening chance to practice. That was the reason he’d given her anyway. In reality he wanted some time to do a little investigation of his own as Angela and he wanted to shelter her from it all.
So as soon as ‘Anthony’ had left to walk down the King’s Arms, the real Anthony headed upstairs to get his Angela disguise on. He’d got quite good at becoming Angela, but it still took him nearly an hour to get ready. The summer was on the turn now and although Anthony would have liked to wear one of the summer dresses in his closet he instead opted for a long blue-grey pencil skirt and jacket with matching heels over a white blouse. Although the blouse covered his breasts they couldn’t be completely hidden and Angela’s jacket had two large bulges that could clearly be seen. Although he was in a hurry, Anthony could not help but stand and check Angela’s butt out in the mirror.
“Still smoking hot babe” he said to himself in his own voice. With that he drove down to the Kingsway in town which was the address of Entwhistle Investigations run by Mark Entwhistle-Houghton. Anthony wanted to see if he could find anything on this private detective before he found Angela again and exposed her to the world for the fraud that she was. He knew that he should dress down for a bit of breaking and entering but a black balaclava and black clothes would have stood out like a sore thumb on the Kingsway which was also home to many of Swansea’s nightclubs. Besides, the only black outfit Angela had was a maid’s outfit that Anthony had bought on a kinky whim and that really wasn’t appropriate.
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Mark went over the meeting he’d just had in his mind again, though this time he embellished it with his fantasy. He was that gumshoe from the fifties on a most dangerous case seeking out a notorious femme fatale.
I’d been working late again in the office, it’s funny how that’d been happening more and more, but a guy’s gotta live. Just when I figured I’d call it a night, the dame I’d been tracking for weeks walked into my office bold as brass and sat her sexy derriere on the edge of my desk. Angela Clemence was her name, or so she said, but I happened to know that the real Angela Clemence had been in the ground for months. The dame had been playing a dangerous game but she had powerful friends, one of whom had knocked my lights out two days ago. With my employer gone my angle on her had diminished but she was still a sexy mystery to me, an itch I still had to scratch.
“I’m surprised to see you here toots” I said to her as I lit a cigarette. I’d been meaning to give up for months at the prompting of the lovely Theresa but I just couldn’t quite kick the habit. As I put the lighter back in the drawer I left it open so that I could get to the .44 magnum that was lying on top of the papers if I needed.
“You and me,” she said in a sultry tone ,“we really need to come to some sort of arrangement.” She crossed her nylon clad legs in a sexy way and sent my pulses racing. I’d not betray Theresa though no matter how much this siren turned on the charm. She’d claimed to be a Transsexual and although she looked real tempting I couldn’t get over the fact that she used to be a man.
“What had you in mind toots?” I asked in a neutral tone. “I’m a married man and I don’t mess around with no skirt, no matter what.”
“I want you to stop trying to expose me to the world. I just want peace and quiet to live out my life. That’s not too much to ask is it?” She pouted as she completed the sentence, then picked up a pen and started to spin it around her fingers, showing off her bright red nails. She was obviously trying everything in her little book of feminine tricks.
“Go on” I replied determined to control the conversation with this crazy dame.
“Well you must want something too. If I can deliver what you want then you promise to stop pursuing me. What is it you want Markie?” The dame was still trying to push my button, but she was right there were things that I wanted.
“Knock the sexy nickname on the head doll. I’ll tell you what I want! You and that ape Rugby player caused this.” I pointed to my swelling eye. “And now Theresa has thrown me out. So what I want is back with the lovely Theresa. The only way to do that will be to make this little business of mine a success. You get me a big case and back with Tre and I’ll stop bugging you.”
“Fine. I think we have a basis of a deal then” she replied as she swung round off the desk and uncrossed her legs in my view. She was trying to appeal to my basic instinct but that little flash of fanny wasn’t going to sweeten the deal.
“You have three weeks; else I go to the press and the media. I’m sure they’d be interested in a story about how the woman who rescued Gavin Rodgers was a fraud. ” I threatened. “I may even get good money for the story. But you do right by me and Theresa and I’ll forget I ever heard of you. Capish?”
For the first time since the dame had come in my office that night she looked at me intently.
“You really do love your wife don’t you?” She stated simply, the whole sex kitten routine now dropped.
“You bet your life I do. I married her for better or worse, and whilst I admit I’m in a bit of the worse at present, there’s plenty of better.” I’d seen too many men mess their lives up in the past months cheating on their wives and I wasn’t going to be one of those sad losers.
“Then you really must be a saint then.” She replied to me and turned swaying her hips and wiggling her sexy arse as she walked to the door. “I’ll contact you again, Mr Private Dick, when I have something.” She finished as she walked out.
I don’t know what it was with dames but they always had to have the last word.
Mark’s replay of the night is his mind wasn’t exactly what was said but the gist of the events were there including Angela’s brazen flash of her genitals. Mark didn’t really want to go through with his threat to her, after all she had helped that Rugby player and she’d not done anything majorly wrong, but he needed to patch things up with Theresa. He missed her cooking and with that thought his stomach started to rumble. He picked up the phone on his desk next to the red phone bill that he couldn’t pay and dialled a number.
“I’d like to order a pizza for delivery” he said into the mouthpiece.
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It was only when he’d seen the light on in the tiny office that Anthony had decided to revise his approach and had removed Angela’s knickers. He’d wanted every weapon he in her arsenal to use to persuade Mark Entwhistle-Houghton to leave him alone. Whilst he hadn’t got exactly what he’d wanted out of the meeting, he had got a way forward. The key to all this though was Theresa and Angela really didn’t get on with her.
The only solution that he could see was that Claire was going to need to talk to her and get her to take Mark back, but Claire couldn’t do that until she was back from her honeymoon which meant next Sunday or Monday at the earliest. Anthony would then only have two weeks left to sort out the entire mess and one of those weeks he had to be Anwyn all week. The only chance he would get to meet Theresa as Claire would be next Monday night when Anthony went to the pub with Bernard. One little excursion as Claire wouldn’t break their deal now would it?
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Theresa had bought a bottle of wine to drown her sorrows on Thursday night after one of the worst days in her life at the office. It had all turned into a horrific nightmare all blown completely out of proportion. Now they’d told her that there’d have to be a disciplinary hearing a week on Monday to investigate whether or not they’d have to take further action. By further action they meant the sack of course. She couldn’t possibly be sacked, especially with Mark’s business failing. What would they live on? And how would they be able to pay the Country Club fees? Oh, she thought to herself, what would the committee think of it when they’d heard she’d been sacked? The rumour and gossip would be enough of a scandal but having to resign from the club would mean that Patricia Pennington-Smythe and would surely be elected as treasurer ahead of her.
She wished she had Mark here to console her, but she’d banished him to his office last Sunday. It was all that silly little bitch Sally Chang’s fault. If she’d written the report correctly in the first place she wouldn’t have had to bring her into the office and carpet her. OK so perhaps she’d gone a little far in telling her to get her little yellow arse into her office and maybe telling her to open her slitty eyes a bit and look at her mistakes could be construed in the wrong way, but everyone said that sort of thing – even the Duke of Edinburgh. However that wasn’t a defence that the tribunal was likely to accept and the company had taken a dim view on racial discrimination in the past. At the moment it was Chang’s word against hers, but the little devil was trying to gather evidence of all sorts of anti PC behaviour against her. She needed a solid defence or she’d be out the door. She poured herself another glass of Pinot Gricchio to see if that would help. After she’d downed it she found that it hadn’t. She wondered if Claire might be able to think of a solution for her, but Claire was on her honeymoon and she was still a bit upset with Claire for giving that Angela the maid of honour duties over her. She supposed that it was in her power to forgive Claire; Theresa could after all be exceptionally flexible when she needed to be and set about writing Claire a letter forgiving her and inviting her round next Monday to talk after she got back from her honeymoon.
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Claire and Bernard arrived back home that Sunday night tired after a long flight but extremely happy in their love for each other. She noted that Anthony or his new fiancée, Bernard’s little sister Anwyn, had watered the plants in the house as she’d asked whilst they were away and that nothing was dying. She hadn’t really had much to do with Anwyn before this and she was surprised when Bernard had a text from his sister during the honeymoon saying that she was now engaged to Claire’s neighbour Anthony. She seen Anwyn around Anthony’s house a bit, but the woman was quite shy and didn’t really talk much. Indeed it had been Anthony and Angela who she’d seen together at the wedding, though Claire knew from Angela previously that they would only ever be good friends.
Now she was feeling a little guilty that Anwyn hadn’t been able to come to the Wedding. She’d replied to the invite saying that although she’d love to come to her brother’s wedding she unfortunately had to go and have a minor procedure done that day and would not be able to make it. Claire hoped that it was nothing serious and that Anwyn was alright. She decided that now that they were back she’d invite Anwyn around to get to know each other and for a girly chat and some wine now that they were going to be sisters-in-law.
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Mail theft was technically a crime but Anthony decided he’d just have to add it to this list he’d already built up. He’d gone to water the plants for Claire on Sunday before she got back and he had sorted Claire’s mail into piles of junk mail, bills and other letters when spotted the return address on the back of one of the envelopes. The envelope was premium quality and correspondent was a certain Theresa Entwhistle-Houghton written in flowery ornate writing. He pocketed the letter and took it back to read in his den back at his house.
Anthony had to hand it to Theresa, she could twist events wonderfully to suit her own personal point of view and make it seem like she was the magnanimous Queen pardoning her subjects their sins against her. She did not blame Claire for the brutish actions of that Rugby thug in flooring her beloved husband and she was sorry that she had to miss the end of the wedding as she had to lovingly tend her man. Anthony nearly choked on that one, knowing that Mark was now living out of his office. The spare clothes and camp bed had been a dead give-away. She wanted to find out all about Claire’s honeymoon and she had some other important things to discuss, so if it wasn’t too much trouble than Claire could come round at about 19:30 on Monday evening. Priceless, it meant that Anthony didn’t even need to have Claire go round of her own accord!
Tempting as it was to keep the entertaining letter for amusements sake, Anthony decided it was best that the evidence was destroyed in an accident with a match.
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Anwyn’s first day at work as Anthony had started slowly and without major incident. She’d memorised her side of the suspect board in the disguise den so that she could identify all Anthony’s work colleagues and remember roughly what they did. She’d got all the pictures from her workplace easily by accessing the staff telephone list that had a picture against the person’s name, job and phone number. Anthony however had taken surreptitious pictures of his colleagues when they weren’t looking using his phone, so though the pictures were more current, they were often taken from odd angles. The basic parts of Anthony’s job he’d taken her through and he’d given her his various logon IDs to the computer systems that she would need to access.
The first problem came up around ten o’clock. She was to check the details of the application form, then take those details and the photo from the computer and enter them into the template, before pressing the button to generate the license which would then be put in a pile with the application to be taken and sent off by the post room. The process was nice and simple as long as everything was right. However this particular one had a problem. The applicant was a foreign national by the name of Irena Ganalov whose occupation was down as a model, who Anwyn guessed must have been given asylum here in her youth since she was only 30 now and she had a British passport number now. She also had a previous UK driving license, but Anthony had explained that they were supposed to send the old paper one back to be destroyed. Anwyn as Anthony really didn’t want to ask for help because Anthony should know this all by now. She didn’t want to ring Anthony as she didn’t want to admit that she couldn’t do his job. That would be like admitting she was a failure on her very first day as Anthony. So she took the view that this model would probably throw the old one away anyway, so she just set out the details and pressed print.
About one o’clock a heavyset man came up to Anthony’s desk. Anwyn racked her brains for his name from the picture board in the den.
“Hello Rees” she whispered quietly just in time, the voice modulator doing its job to transform and amplify her voice so that she spoke as Anthony.
“Watcha mate. We’re having a football game against the DHSS on Wednesday night and we’re a man down. Do you wanna come along and play?”
“Oh well err” Anwyn began to stall, not sure what to reply.
“Come on mate, I’m sure you’re new fiancée will let you out for one evening.” Rees continued.
Anwyn was a bit taken aback that she was thought of as a ring around Anthony’s neck by his work colleagues. She didn’t want herself getting the reputation of being clingy so she confidently replied.
“Anwyn’s not like that. She’s a real sweetie. Of course I’ll come out to play.” Now Anwyn thought to herself all I have to do is learn how to play the stupid game!
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Anthony couldn’t believe how nervous he was dressed as Anwyn for the first time. Angela was a sexy siren that strutted about the place as though she owned it, but Anwyn had never been that way. She was quiet (when not in his company) and she wore more modest less revealing clothing. She told him that she didn’t want other men to ogle her and that her body was reserved just for him. Driving her mini in her flats was a weird experience and he’d not had enough time to fully get ready before he had to leave for her work. So he did what he’d seen many a woman do and applied some of her makeup whilst stuck at the lights and then finished it off when he arrived in the car park of the Swansea regional office of the Northern Bank. Her makeup had a much more natural look to it than the bright colours that he used as Angela – Anwyn’s way of blending in to the background and surviving against the chaos around her. Her new boss scared and annoyed her he knew, but he was still to face that challenge.
The fake Anwyn put her bag over her shoulder and headed into the office her face down keeping her stride short and steady. He swiped in Anwyn’s card on the turnstiles and headed towards the lifts. She told him that it was on the 4th Floor and around to the right. He’d see if her map was right when he got up there in the lift.
“Morning Anwyn!” A chirpy young welsh girl in a smart business suit said to her as she entered the lift. Anthony couldn’t place her anywhere in his mind from Anwyn’s board back in the den.
“Hi. Did you have a nice weekend?” He asked without using the girl’s name. Her pass around her neck was twisted around so he couldn’t see the name.
“Yes very nice. Michael took me away to London and we saw some shows. I’ll tell you all about it later. You still having problems with Mr Octopus arms?” Anwyn hadn’t mentioned her little nickname for her new boss but the name fit the description.
“Yes alas. I miss Mr Slocombe, he had no wandering hands.” The lift opened at the fourth floor and the fake Anwyn started to get off. Seeing the other girl stayed in the lift she turned and added “See you later.” It had taken Anthony a while to get used to the principle of whispering his words so that his real voice was masked by the translation amplifier, but he still found it strange having Anwyn’s voice come out of his mouth. He liked Anwyn’s voice but he could have never copied it that well.
Anwyn’s new boss Mr Wesley Caplin was already in his office but when he spotted Anwyn arrive he came out and went up to her.
“You’re here at last.” He told her. “Now pop off to the kitchen and get me a cup of tea love I’m parched. I’ve got a letter for you to do when you get back.” With that he pinched the fake Anwyn’s bum and pushed her on her way. Anthony headed to the kitchenette and found a cup and put the kettle on. He could see why Anwyn hated her new boss. He went over Anwyn’s notes in his head. Two sugars and milk in his tea – he like to put two spoonfuls of arsenic in it for the loathsome toad. But like a good little obedient girl he trotted back in short steps enforced by the short pace that the long skirt he had on enforced on him and lay the tea in front of Mr Caplin.
“Could you arrange for some flowers for my wife to be delivered on Wednesday please. I’ll be working late and I want to ensure that she knows I love her. Oh and here’s the letter I want you to type.” He handed the fake Anwyn a hastily scrawled page in his handwriting.
“Yes Mr Caplin.” Anwyn said submissively in response and headed out to ‘her’ desk just in front of Wesley Caplin’s office.
Anthony turned on Anwyn’s computer and logged in. He started to type the letter and as he did so, he looked down at the keyboard seeing the small breasts on his chest and the short nails on his hand. This got him thinking as he mindlessly copied the letter. Why did he love Anwyn so much? When he became a woman he became the person that he thought of as being super sexy and sultry. Angela was a sexpot that men would dream of, so that he could be admired and desired. Why did he not want that in his wife? He realised that Anwyn was something that Angela was not. She was good, honest, faithful and above all true to him. She kept herself only for him. She didn’t go out of her way to be sexy for all the other men on the planet, she didn’t want them. She only wanted him. All the makeup and lingerie and false advertising could not take away from the person underneath. If that person underneath the core was a rotten apple then as soon as you peeled it you’d find out. Anthony did not want to marry a rotten apple, he wanted the sweet core. He felt sorry for Mark who had lumbered himself with that rotten apple underneath Theresa’s appealing exterior. Now, with their switch this week it was his duty to keep that core pure and sweet for Anwyn. He didn’t realise the responsibility that he’d taken on until now or the depths of his true feelings. They say you have to walk a mile in another person’s shoes, well he’d only come in from the car park and up the lift but he’d got the meaning already.
He continued typing. “The missing £148milion from the robbery may never be recovered and the bank may have to look to their insurers to cover their losses. SOCA have assured the Northern Bank that they have been doing everything possible to locate the unrecovered amount but the suspect in custody has denied taking any more than £3million in bullion and the marked notes.“ That was odd, Anthony thought to himself, the TV hadn’t given all those details. I wonder what the robber did with it? Then he noticed that Mr Caplin had pulled the blinds to his office. Anwyn had mentioned that he did that from time to time but why would he do that? He noticed Mr Caplin’s phone line was being used and Anthony decided to risk something to try and find out and help his future wife. He pressed the intercom button that opened the line to his phone and picked it up whilst putting his phone on mute.
“...have been trying to get the information out of him to no avail.” Wesley Caplin said.
“They von’t as you vell know my stallion.” It was a woman’s voice on the other end with a Russian accent.
“How much longer will we have to wait to get at the money?” Wesley Caplin asked.
“Ve must wait until the police investigation iz finished. Ve cannot risk it before long. You must ensure that ze bank believes that the criminal took ze money and get your insurers to pay.” The Russian sounding lady continued.
“Alright, but it’s been hard here with the SOCA agents breathing down my neck here. I can’t wait to see you again.”
“You vill have to my love. I am working up here in London and I can only get away briefly on Vendsday. I will book a room at the Plaza Hotel for us. Your vife does not suspect?”
“No I’m keeping her sweet Irena. I’ll see you Wedesday at 6:30pm sharp then. Love you”
Anthony put the phone down before he got caught eavesdropping. Perhaps he might have something for Entwhistle Investigations after all.
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Anwyn had survived a day as Anthony at his office and for the most part thought she’d done alright. She hadn’t been as outgoing maybe as Anthony normally was, but she decided that she needed to settle in to the role for a bit before she could start to embellish. She worried that maybe that she was using it as an excuse to keep to her shyness. Anthony was not shy as himself and certainly not when he was being Angela, so she shouldn’t be either. She took a few deep breaths before slinging the door open and calling out boldly.
“Honey I’m home!” She knew that Anthony disguised as herself was in the house because her mini was in the driveway. Lucky sod had not been kept behind by Mr Octopus then tonight. For a moment Anwyn felt sorry for Anthony getting felt up by her new boss, but then she remembered that he’d wanted this week of discovery. Probably not the sort of discovery he was looking for.
“I’m up stairs hon in the bedroom,” came the reply in her voice. Weird. This was going to take a while to get used to. She went upstairs and found ‘Anwyn’ getting changed from her work business suit into her jeans and T-shirt. Her plain bra and matching knickers looked somewhat drab on the fake version of her. Perhaps when this was all over she should go and replace these for something a bit more interesting. She’d had these for years when she’d been alone and single as they were comfortable. But why couldn’t she have something comfortable and a bit sexy. After all only Anthony would see the replacements. Now that she was seeing herself from the outside was she getting a bit jealous of Angela and her wardrobe? She shook her head and started to change out of her business suit. It was so much easier not having to worry about snagging tights and getting her bra straps straight. Men’s clothing was much courser but easier to handle.
“You know I’m going out with my mate Bernard tonight?” She enquired, knowing that the fake Anwyn already knew the answer.
“Sure it’s what you always do love. What do you do when I’m out normally” Anthony asked her.
“Well for a start that.” Anwyn pointed at the pile of Angela’s dirty clothes in the linen basket. “Angela rarely tidies up after herself and goes through clothes like a fashion model!”
“I’ll put a wash on tonight and see you later.” The fake Anwyn replied. “Have a nice night with Bernard.” The real Anwyn went to go and pick up her handbag from the bed and stopped mid flight. She was Anthony now and didn’t have a handbag. She went to her suit trousers and retrieved Anthony’s wallet before going to give the fake Anwyn a peck on the cheek.
“Don’t wait up. I’ll have dinner at the pub.”
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As soon as Anwyn now dressed as himself left, Anthony started to strip out of Anwyn’s clothes and then slowly took off his Anwyn mask. Getting the contacts out was the worst part, he always had found them fiddly to juggle with. He now had the head of Anthony and Anwyn’s naked body on him. Though Anwyn’s tits were not as big as Angela’s in many ways he liked them better. They were small and perky and he could feel them harden when he sucked them when he made love. The small patch of brown hairs above her pussy always gave him a rush of blood away from the head. Despite the fact that he couldn’t afford the time he was getting incredibly turned on by his body as Anwyn. Whilst in the body covering though he could not masturbate directly as his penis was hidden in the layer beneath his fake vagina. He had wicked thought and reached down to the back of the bottom drawer.
There he pulled out the spare Rabbit that Claire had given Angela. She had been given a new one as a Hen present and she’d donated the old one to Angela. Anthony had not known what he was going to do with it until now when he flicked the switch on and slowly inserted it into his fake hole. He could feel the faint vibrations and lay back on the bed spreading his legs wider to get a better angle so that his cock below the fake vaginal canal could start to feel some of the vibrations. Normally he wouldn’t feel much in that tube of latex, but the vibrations added sensation. It was not like real sex, but his mind looking in the mirror was working overtime on imagination to make up for the lost feeling.
“Oh I love you Anwyn” he said in his own voice. With his other hand he massaged his fake breast, though again he could feel little. Her image though was really turning him on and he wondered if he might be able to create a double-backed Rabbit so that Angela and Anwyn could have fun together. That’s if she’d be willing that is. Deep within Anwyn’s nether regions something exploded dealing a sticky mess. Anthony withdrew the Rabbit and realised he had to clean it up and get on or ‘Claire’ would be late for her evening with Theresa.
“Now look what you’ve gone and done Anwyn my sexy little fiancée.” He said to himself.
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Bernard was late for the pub for the first time that he could remember. Anthony was already there tucking into a lasagna with a pint already half downed. Having a new wife now had meant he’d had to start being more responsible. It was only partially for that reason Bernard finally admitted to himself. Mostly it was due to the fact that they had only flown in the day before and the house was still in a state of flux from all the unpacking and wedding presents.
“Whatchya mate” he said clapping his friend on the back. Anthony nearly choked.
“I see you are back then?” Anthony stated.
“Nothing escapes you does it? Oh congratulations I are in order think; you sly old devil.” Bernard offered.
“I certainly think Anwyn is pleased but you’re marrying my little sis?”
“What do you mean by that” Anthony snapped back. That wasn’t like Anthony he knew. “Had prolonged exposure to his sister stated to have some weird Star Trek effect that made him start acting like her?
“Oh no offence mate! It’s just I’ve known that little minx all my life. Are you sure you know what you’ve let yourself in for?”
“Do go on” was all Anthony replied coolly as he sipped his larger. Bernard started to feel a little less comfortable. It wasn’t quite the welcome home he was expecting.
“Oh well you know we had our ups and downs when we were young that’s all. Normal sibling squabbles you know. I remember one time after we’d had an argument she spiked my lemonade with farting powder. I couldn’t stop blowing off all through dinner. Mind you I got my revenge on her the next week when her Sindy House had the demolition men come in. She never found out it was me mind you but I think she always suspected. Mum and Dad always said that the box of lego must have fallen off the shelf by accident. You think she’s quiet as a mouse most of the time but if you rile her, you’ll find that she can strike back. But I’m sure you know that and that you’ll both be happy together. You want a top up mate?”
“Yes please.” Anthony said rather quickly before filling his mouth with another large portion of lasagne. Bernard headed to the bar and didn’t spot his friend kick the table angrily behind him.
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Theresa had laid on a spread of food and put on one of her nicer dresses in preparation for Claire coming over. It never did any harm making a good impression, especially if you wanted something. The doorbell rang and she headed to the door to answer it.
“Evening Claire. I hope you had a really nice honeymoon. Come on inside, I have a little spread put on and a little bubbly to celebrate your recent nuptials.” Theresa could be as sweet as cherry pie when she wanted something.
“Hi and thanks” Claire responded as she followed Theresa into the living room. “St Lucia was fabulous, loads of blue sky and even bluer water. Oh and I had amazing amounts of stress relief, if you know what I mean?”
“I do. Bernard suits you. I know I might of said that he was a bit of an oaf in the past and beneath you, but what I really meant was that he needs a bit of polishing up and I must say that you’ve done a fabulous job dear.” Theresa knew that she couldn’t take some of the words back that she’d said before but she could re-interpret them to suit her current needs. “Help yourself to the finger food. Bubbly?”
“Just a small one” Claire replied “I’m driving.” Good, Theresa thought to herself, she’s swallowed my apology as she poured two glasses. “Mark not around tonight?” Claire added.
“No just the two of us. Mark had to go and see an important client. He’s on the way up with his business.” Theresa lied. She couldn’t have her husband to be seen as a failure. “Actually it’s lucky that he is out as there is something I wanted to discuss with you if that’s OK?” Theresa added.
Claire nodded her assent and took her finger food back to the couch smoothing her skirt underneath her and she sat. As Theresa poured out her story Claire sipped her champagne thoughtfully. Theresa gave the essence of the story to Claire but twisted it to make Sally Chang seem like the villain and Theresa seem to be the victim. After all that’s the way it was in reality.
“So,” Claire summarised, “this Asian lady is accusing you of racially offensive behaviour and you might lose your job if the tribunal finds against you?”
“Yes that’s the nub of it. Can you think of what I can do? I’m desperate Claire and you are my best friend in the world.” Theresa was pleased to see that Claire smiled at that compliment.
“Have you any ethnic friends or those of an alternative lifestyle?” Claire enquired.
“Goodness no. They tend to weed them out at the club during the membership process.” Theresa told her. “I guess that doesn’t help my case much does it?”
“I think that I know someone who can help you,” Claire replied at last, “but you’re not going to like it.”
“What, who? I’m desperate Claire. You know what a pillar of the community I am?”
“My friend Angela can help I think if you can persuade her that she might want to.”
“Her? How?” Theresa kept her cool and bit back the insult, intrigued how this former man could help her.
“She’s a Transsexual. You are saying that this Chang woman is saying you are not PC. Angela could lie and tell the tribunal that you are not prejudiced. She may even have foreign friend who could help give testimony at your tribunal in the same way. However you would need to persuade her to help you first.” Claire looked over at Theresa, who nervously sipped at her Champagne.
“Could you persuade her for me?” Theresa tried.
“No, you’ll have to do that for yourself. I will persuade her to come and see you later tonight, but you’ll have to find a way to make her want to help.”
“Does she need money?” Theresa asked hopefully.
“I think you might be going along the wrong line of thought there. Angela wants to see a kind heart. Now I’m afraid I have to go. I have so much unpacking to do. It was nice to see you again Theresa. I’ll ask Angela to pop round in a couple of hours”
How the hell am I going to do that Theresa thought. She’d have to think up something quickly as she only had a few hours.
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Anthony couldn’t believe his luck. This whole situation was perfect and he also had something to help Mark’s business too. However he’d have to hurry to get back home, change out of Claire into Angela and get back to Theresa’s house.
Angela rang the doorbell and listened to the chime ring through the house. Normally it would have grated on him but for tonight only it was a happy chime. Anthony noted Theresa was still in the same dress he’d seen her earlier when she opened the door to Angela, but had consumed most of the Champagne since then. She’d rather swallow the Champagne that her pride.
“I understand you need my help you little bitch.” Angela stated boldly. She had no reason to have to be polite to her now.
“Come in Angela.” Theresa said meekly. “I’d rather not discuss this on the doorstep.” I bet you don’t want to, Anthony thought to himself as he strutted into Theresa’s living room and deposited Angela’s sexy arse on the sofa and crossed her legs.
“Well?” Angela demanded.
“I’m sorry for being mean to you at the wedding.” Theresa ventured.
"That's a start. I hope you mean it though." Angela replied.
"Yes I do" came a whimper from Theresa. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Start being a nice person for a start, though that may be an impossibility." Angela responded quickly.
"Am I not a nice person?"
"No, you're not, and you are very lucky that your husband still loves you despite it all. But you have to change and change for the better." Anthony could see the tears starting on Theresa. He didn't know whether they were real or not, but he decided to accept them as real for now. His deal with Mark meant that he had to go through with helping Theresa, but she didn't know that.
"What (sniff), do you (sniff) want me to do (sniff)?"
"First of all you can let your husband come home and give him all the love he deserves. That one shouldn't be too difficult for you. Secondly you can start doing some voluntary work at the local immigrant welcome centre. The work will be good for your soul, but it will also give you some evidence that you're not a racist bigot. Finally I think I'd like to join the Country Club. Oh and you can invite Claire and Bernard and Anthony and Anwyn as well. I'm sure you can sort out with the committee and sort out the fees. I feel like some fresh Country air. If you can agree to that then I'll help you." The last one Anthony hadn't needed but he was entertained at the thought of Angela scandalising the members of Theresa's prim set social types.
"I think I can do all that." Theresa said.
"You'd better or else there'll be no one to help you next week."
"I'll do it, I promise. I'll go down the immigration centre tomorrow and will phone my husband after you leave. The Country Club may take a little longer to organise though. There is a certain process you have to go through."
"Fine, but that process had better not lead to a dead end or else I'll tell the tribunal afterwards that you paid me to say what I did. My friend Mr Umbowta will also be along to give you a glowing testimony if you give me the time and address to turn up for next Monday."
"I'll write it down for you." Theresa offered wiping away her tears.
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Anwyn came back from the pub to find that the other Anwyn had bathed and was in her nightdress ready for bed. Angela's washing had not been done and in fact there seemed to be more clothes that needed a wash than before. Anwyn was about to explode when she realised that she was now Anthony. The fake Anwyn would still need to do it all, and tomorrow night she would be here to make sure that she did all the washing and ironing. It was going to be nice not to have to do all that. As she turned to leave she noticed that Angela's bits were on the floor and all turned inside out. It was odd seeing into her skin like this. The mechanism that held Anthony's penis in a pouch by the vaginal tube and the catheter that connected the tip of his penis to Angela's fake urethra could be clearly seen now. Then it just struck her. Anthony must have used the suit tonight which was why he hadn't done the washing. She wondered what he was up to as she headed into the bedroom to get out of Anthony's jeans and sweatshirt.
"Darling, could you do me a favour tomorrow?" the fake Anwyn asked from the bed.
"What do you want dear?" Anwyn asked the copy.
"Could you look up the address of women called Sally Chang on the database at work tomorrow?"
"Sure. Why do you want that then?" Anwyn asked as innocently as she could given she was using Anthony's voice.
"I have a little problem that I need to solve that will secure Angela's future." the fake Anwyn replied to her. It was always down to Angela wasn't it?
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Against her better judgement Theresa had gone down the immigrant welcome centre to volunteer to help. She had seen the logic in it if she was to have a defence at the tribunal, but she felt a bit unclean. She'd do anything to save her reputation even grovel to that Transsexual tart.
"Hello. My name is Theresa Entwhistle-Houghton and I've come to volunteer to help those less fortunate than myself." It was important to ensure that she had stated her superiority up front.
"Oh great." The Indian man behind the desk said uncertainly. "We could use a hand. The toilets out back overflowed last week and they really could do with a good scrubbing ready for the welcome meeting tomorrow."
"Ah" Theresa said. "I don't suppose you have some marigolds I can wear then?"
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Anwyn had been making a start on the pile of laundry in the spare room where Claire knocked on the front door. Anthony answered the door and had welcomed her into the house. Once Anthony had discovered she had come to see Anwyn he'd called her down from upstairs and volunteered to make the teas and coffees. Claire found that it was a bit hard talking to Anwyn at first but she soon loosened up and the two women were soon chatting away like old friends whilst Anthony kept to himself in the corner. Anwyn had asked her all about her honeymoon and she'd happily told her all the details. All in all Claire was glad that she'd come round and was surprised when Anwyn suggested that the two of them get together the following Monday when Anthony and Bernard went down the pub.
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By Wednesday afternoon 'Anwyn' was getting fed up with being Mr Caplin's little helper. It wasn't that the things that she was being asked to do were particularly difficult, they weren't. It was more that he was perfectly capable of doing many of them himself and the unnecessary touching of her arse every time that she turned her back on him. 'Anwyn' put up with all this stoically as she knew that Mr Caplin was up to something else, and she wanted to know exactly what. The real Anwyn was experiencing the fun of the DVLA football team tonight, so Anthony had plenty of time to do some investigation of his own. He was a bit worried that his sporting prowess at work would forever be in the tubes after tonight, but then he never was that good anyway so it probably wouldn't be that bad.
Mr Caplin had her doing a spreadsheet of all the missing items from the theft until well gone six, but this Anwyn didn't mind as she didn't need to get home quickly. She headed out to her mini and drove straight to the Plaza hotel to wait for Mr Caplin. As she was waiting she spotted a women getting out a Ferrari, walking into the hotel. Anthony recognised her. It was Irena Ganalov who was a top model. Maybe not in the class of Charlotte but still up there well above the likes of Angela's unsubtle charms. So that was the Irena that Mr Octopus was meeting. Anwyn followed her into the hotel with a bag under her arm and heard Irena ask for her room key in that same Russian accent. The concierge told her she was in Room 371 and handed her the key. Irena headed off to the bar to order a drink and Anwyn headed to the ladies loo. There she went into a cubicle and stripped out of her work suit and put on the maid's outfit. He had to pad out the cups in the chest a bit to make it look right. Anthony was not sure that this was strictly keeping to the exact details of their arrangement but he didn't have time to change into Angela to do this.
Anwyn headed into the porters lodge and said to the harassed clerk.
"Have you got a spare key for room 371. They've complained the bath is filthy." The clerk was so busy on the phone he handed the maid the key without further question and she soon headed off up the elevator and into the room. The room was bare and Anwyn quickly looked around for somewhere to hide. She assumed they wouldn't be stopping long in the room so she slipped into a closet and peeked out of a crack.
Anwyn didn't have to wait long before Irena and Wesley entered the room. Irena was carrying a small case and she put it down quickly to start to kiss and cuddle Mr Caplin.
"God you are so sexy Irena. I really appreciate you coming down tonight from London. You must be so busy this week at the London fashion week." She kissed him hungrily and replied.
"I could not keep away from you long darhlink."
Anwyn watched as the pair began the foreplay and then stripped out of their clothes and began to passionately caress each other. Soon Mr Caplin, whose cock was quite hard by then, began to penetrate Irena. She moaned with pleasure as he began massaging her breasts and thrusting into her pussy. Five minutes later and they were back at it again, this time the whole thing took a bit longer. Anwyn guessed that she was either really good at faking orgasms or Wesley Caplin really was good with his tool. Finally they lay together on the bed and relaxed in each other's arms.
"Zo have ze police finished their vork yet?"She asked.
"No. You won't believe the amount of statements and checks they have to take and then recheck. It's going to be at least next Wednesday before they sign it all off as something they'll never recover and that stupid little thief will get all the blame. Its lucky that as the loss assessor in the bank I was first on the scene to account for what was lost. Adding more from the safe on the inventory of stolen items was a genius idea Irena. The one place that the police haven't looked for the extra missing money is the safe itself."
"Yes, zu are such a clever little man Vesley"
"Once this is all been cleared I can make a security check on the bank one evening and clear out the missing money from where I've hidden it in the safe. Then I'll divorce my boring wife and we can head off together wherever you want Irena."
"I'd luv zat Wesley. Let me giv you a taste of my appreciation." With that she sucked him off for about ten minutes and he had another massive orgasm. Anthony thought if he ever wanted tips about how to please a man then this Irena was the woman to go to.
They screwed again a couple more times and Anwyn was getting tired standing up whilst watching. Eventually Wesley announced he had to go and as he got dressed he promised her would meet her here again next Wednesday in the same hotel at the same time to head up to the bank up north to go and recover the money. She began dressing again in her sexy lingerie and started to put on her dress and check herself in the mirror. Then she phoned someone on a mobile and merely said into the receiver "He's gone."
Anwyn was puzzled now as to what was going on, but after about 5 minutes there was a knock on the hotel door. Irena opened it and let another man into the room, this one was dressed in a sharp suit and a hat.
"How's it going?" the new arrival asked.
"He's like putty in my hands" Irena answered.
"You'd better get out of that. The real Irena is supposed to be in London at the fashion show. The less she is seen here the better. You did pay in advance?"
"Yes." Irena started unzipping herself from her beautiful silver dress and unclipped her stockings from her suspenders before rolling them down. She took off her suspender belt and bra and then she was naked in front of the man who wasn't batting an eyelid.
"You need a hand?" The other man asked.
"Yeah in a sec. I have to go first. Sex does that after a while." With that Irena headed into the toilet and sat on the loo leaving the door open. Why would she do that Anwyn wondered. When she finished she did a quick wipe and flush and came back into the room.
Anwyn watched in amazement as the other man went behind Irena and she heard a zip coming down. The clothed man pulled her skin apart and gradually helped her ease it down away from her shoulders. Anthony of all people really shouldn't have been surprised, but this was something else. The suit was a complete body suit perfect in every detail with arms and gloves that had sexy nails on the end. The suit was pulled down to reveal a man's torso nipped at the waist by a clincher. The occupant of the suit reached down inside the suit now that he had a free hand and Irena's face winced as he adjusted something before starting to roll the padded hips down.
"When will we be able to get our hands on the money?"
The man getting out of the suit sat down on the bed and began to roll down the legs one at a time ensuring that the painted toenails each were freed from his toes. He then discarded the suit beside him. He now had the face of the model Irena Ganalov and the body of a slim man about 5'10" tall with a waist clincher.
"Wednesday next week. You can do the hit when he comes out the bank. Easier that way. Give me a sec I need to get this off."
The person with the face of Irena went over to the vanity table and put his hands into his mouth and pulled out the set of teeth that gave Irena her smile. He then reached behind his head underneath her hair and then shortly after her face came forward and eventually a man's face was revealed beneath the mask with a bald head. He then opened the case and took a small round box from it which he opened before removing the blue contacts from his eyes and popping them in the case.
Anthony was very impressed with the disguise from his hideout. He would have never guessed that she was not the real Irena and was not surprised that Wesley could not tell the difference.
"How did the prototype go? I'll need to report back." The second man asked as the naked man began to get men's clothes from the case and start to dress.
"Like a dream. I tell you the sensors in the nipples and the pussy really make it easy to be the contented little model. Getting screwed like that is just fabulous as a job, especially when you get to orgasm too. The old versions I really had to act my socks off with, but not with this." The man finished dressing and packed away the suit and female clothes into the case.
"Have you any more assignments like this one?" The former Irena asked the other man.
"I can't understand why you like this sort of thing, but then I'm straight." His colleague replied as they headed out the door.
"Oh I like it both ways" Anwyn could just hear the former Irena reply.
Anwyn waited for 15 minutes to be safe before coming out of her hiding place and heading down the corridor.
"Miss" she heard behind her. "I called for room service an hour ago. Can you find out where it's got to?" A man called out from the room. The fake Anwyn looked down at her maid's uniform and sighed. She'd better go use the loo and change before anyone else mistook her as a domestic. She desperately wanted a suit like that one for Angela but that was out of science fiction and there was no way Anthony could make anything like that.
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Mark was not surprised to get a call from Angela on Wednesday night. Theresa had invited him home and had been nice to him before she had gone out to do some voluntary work. The change in circumstances couldn't be credited without some external force at work. The only external force that he could think of was Angela. She was a bit like that when you met her.
"You've done something." It wasn't a question.
"Of course and in only seven days too. I'm ringing about that and the other matter as well. How would you like to be paid lots of money by an insurance company for uncovering a fraudulent claim?"
"Go on."
"You heard about the robbery at the Northern Bank the other week? Well I have reason to believe that one of their employees who is assessing the loss has claimed that more money was stolen and hidden it in the bank until the investigation is over. Then he's going to go and pick it up once the heat is off and the insurance company has paid up for the bank's loss. I'm sure the Independent Mutual Assurance Company would be rather glad not to have to pay out on a £145 million pound claim. I'm sure that they would pay a private investigator who had a tape of the Northern Bank employee confessing to the crime quite a bit of money. They may even give him more work looking at insurance swindles in the future."
"You have the tape?" Mark asked knowing the answer.
"Yes and I have the hour of sordid sex beforehand as well if you're interested." Angela teased.
"You screwed him?" Mark exclaimed shocked at the lengths Angela would go to.
"No, not me honey. Another person took that one for the female team."
"Now we need to discuss your wife and exactly how you are going to help her." Angela told him, though it kind of sounded like a threat.
Mark listened carefully about the mess that his wife had gotten herself into, and also to the plan that Angela had conceived about helping her. He was sceptical at first, but he agreed that if she could pull it off then he was in on the plan. He knew why Theresa hadn't told him about the Tribunal. She was too proud to admit she was in trouble. He'd need to talk to her about that later.
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Anthony put down the phone and smiled to himself. It was all coming into place. He'd give Mark the tape at the weekend when Angela fitted him for his mask and tested the makeup. Anwyn hadn't remembered but they were going to Cardiff Arms Park to the Rugby as guests of Gavin and Charlotte. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be Anwyn until Sunday he'd need to be Angela for part of Saturday to go to the Rugby and then he would go and fit Mark's mask. Not that mark really needed to do it. Anthony had another ace up his sleeve.
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The soccer game had been very tiring but Anwyn felt that she had acquitted herself alright as Anthony. She'd not scored any goals or saved any goals but she had at least kicked the ball three times and once it had even gone to her own man. The fact that they had lost 5-0 was not relevant. She had joined in all the songs in the baths and no one had noticed that Anthony was a woman. Some of the songs she admitted to herself could have done with some cleaner words and she wasn't sure that she altogether approved of most of the others, but she had gotten involved in the male bonding aspect.
So 'Anthony' came back to the house that night to find his fiancée dressed in a sexy negligee, a rose between her breasts and dinner waiting for him on the table. A pile of ironing that had been finished sat on the sideboard behind the table.
"This is all very nice but I thought we agreed to no one doing anything embarrassing as each other." The fake Anthony told Anwyn.
"I figured that only applied to when others could see us. Now come on your food is getting cold."
The fake Anthony shrugged and tucked into his meal. Anwyn ate hers at the other end of the table quite demurely. Anwyn figured that he wasn't doing a half bad job of pretending to be her.
"So when did I buy that negligee then?"
"Oh you popped out the other lunchtime to town. Would you like to explore a bit after dinner?"
Anwyn was cross.
"I told you I'm not wasting my time doing it again as a man. It just doesn't work for me and you promised no sex whilst we are like this."
"Damn, I was hoping you changed your mind. Maybe I'll wear this next week."
"Only if I'm a good girl i will."The fake Anthony replied.
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Anwyn was pleased when the week was over working at the regional offices of the Northern Bank. The only silver lining was that hopefully the real Anwyn wouldn't have to suffer at the hands of Mr Octopus any longer. She hoped that her new boss would be much nicer to the real Anwyn. Anthony had also been doing a bit of networking whilst he was Anwyn and he hoped that Anwyn would be pleased with the friendships that he'd forged as her for her whilst he was filling in her life.
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Anthony had caught her by surprise when he'd reminded her that they were going to the Rugby as guests of Gavin and Charlotte. She had reluctantly allowed 'Anwyn' to go and change into Angela and she immediately detected the change in the behaviour of her partner. For a start she was dressed figure hugging tight jeans, half cut heeled boots and a low cut scooped top that was showing off her prime assets. She was well made up and she had a welsh scarf over her arm with her coat and handbag. If it weren't for the fact that Angela normally dressed to show herself off, she'd have guessed that she was trying to compete with Charlotte.
The game was close and Gavin and Charlotte had got them the best seats in the stadium. They were great company too and when Gavin suggested they go and get the drinks at half time at the bar 'Anthony' could hardly refuse. That left Charlotte alone with Angela again to talk in the seats. Gavin was very knowledgeable about the game and Anwyn tried to maintain her interest for Anthony's sake whilst they were waiting for the barman to complete their order.
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"So are you still having the same problem that we talked about last time?" Angela asked her beautiful companion.
"Yes, alaz it's still an issue Angela. I really wish I could do something. I've tried lingerie and pretty well everything I can think of. I even tried asking a doctor friend that I know but he wasn't helpful." Charlotte replied.
"I think I might have the answer for you. Please don't take this the wrong way but I think that the near death experience has made everything seem mundane. He needs a little excitement and variety to his life."
"I don't want him sleeping with other women." Charlotte said firmly.
"Not if they were all you?" Angela arched her eyebrow suggestively and opened her handbag. She produced a flesh coloured object with some hair attached.
"Say hello to Conchita the maid dear. She needs to bend over a lot when she cleans up and she doesn't wear any knickers. She resist the advances of her master at first but will then give in to him." Angela pulled a card out of her handbag. Here's a site that does more masks. They're not the best quality and if you want something better give me a call. My number is on the back. It's amazing how the nanny, or the nurse from the local hospital who has lost her way, or the policewoman who has come to arrest him with her handcuffs will pick up his interest. I'm sure that you have lots of imagination. You can be anyone you like and he's guaranteed to only cheat on you with you."
"I'll give it a try Angela." Charlotte said taking the mask and card and putting it in her bag.
"Do it tonight. I'll stake my reputation as a woman on it working." Just then Anthony and Gavin came back with the drinks.
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Angela went round to Mark and Theresa's house to hand the tape over to Mark and to fit the mask and test the makeup. Mr Umbowta was from Nigeria but only needed make-up on his hands besides the mask. Angela got him to practice the accent, his story of how Theresa knew him and how helpful and kind she'd been to him. It wasn't perfect but Angela thought it would be good enough. Theresa hovered around her like a hummingbird always trying to be nice and polite to her. She apologised that she hadn't yet sorted the Country Club membership but as she said it would take another couple of weeks to complete.
Angela got back home later that evening to find Anwyn no longer in her Anthony disguise.
"So are you going to tell me what you've been up to. We can't have secrets from each other you know else the marriage won't work." She demanded. Angela pouted and stuck out her tongue but then she stopped and did something very unusual. She answered as Anthony and told her all about Mark, Theresa, Wesley Caplin and even Charlotte.
"Oh you are a dear man. I wouldn't have helped the bitch. What am I going to do with you?"
"Come upstairs and I'll show you!" Angela replied back in her own voice now. Anwyn followed Angela upstairs.
Angela kissed Anwyn and began to fondle her pert breasts. Anwyn a bit unsure of it closed her eyes an imagined that Anthony was in front of her and was starting to get into the mood until she felt Angela's breasts. Angela stripped out of her skirt and pulled down Anwyn's jeans and knickers and they began to kiss on the bed will Angela fondled Anwyn until she was very wet.
"You'll have to get out of Angela" she told her partner.
"Just wait. I have something a bit different" Angela replied. She reached across in the draw and pulled a very long device with a knob on each end, or more precisely a Rabbit vibrator on each end joined in the middle. There was also a strap connected to the middle. Angela flicked on the button in the centre and shoved one end into her beautiful but fake pussy. She then fastened the strap around her sexy backside.
"Jump on. There's room for two." Angela told Anwyn. Curiosity and desire overcame Anwyn's natural aversion to sex with Angela and she did as she was bid.
Angela began thrusting into her pussy just as he would as Anthony but the extra vibrations gave him a little extra buzz than normal. Their breasts mashed up together as Angela thrust his double Rabbit into Anwyn's pussy. The vibration in Angela's pussy was gently massaging Anthony's engorged cock below the vaginal tube. The whole idea of sex with Anwyn as Angela was turning him on and this amplified by the gentle vibrations. Finally this brought about a massive climax in his hidden member just as he heard Anwyn come. They fell back on the bed spent for now.
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The man in the Irena suit had arranged to meet Wesley Caplain at the hotel on Sunday night to go over their plans again. It was important that everything was on schedule and now that the real Irena had finished at the London fashion show, he was free to stay overnight in Wales without compromising his cover.
Wesley was late and the fake Irena spent her time checking her makeup and laid out all her sex toys by the bed. He'd already hung up his dresses in the wardrobe and put his bathroom items by the bath. His cock beneath the suit was once again at full extension at the sight of his own beauty in the mirror. He bent down to hitch up the hem of his mauve off the shoulder gown getting a lovely view of the fabulous breasts of Irena as he did so. Once underneath the dress he sat down on the bed and carefully rode it up and slipped his manicured hand into his lacy panties. He then felt around until he located his vaginal lips and pushed his finger into his fake vagina. It was too dry and he'd need to attend to that before Wesley got here. He arched her nailed finger up until he found the g-spot. It wasn't really a real g-spot, but the sensors there reacted when it was touched and massaged his hidden penis. Good at least that was working. He slipped his hand back from under his dress and let it fall back down. He tested the left breast and then the right. The sensation in the nipples was going through to his own as they should. Having performed all the checks he headed to the bathroom and took out a little plastic bottle with a nozzle from his bath bag. The label on it said "Pussy Juice". He took the bottle and went back under his dress into his lacy panties and gave the bottle two squirts. He'd need it again if it was going to be a marathon session tonight.
There was a knock at the door and Irena put the little bottle away and pulled down his dress. At the door he checked the keyhole before letting Wesley in.
"Vesley are ve all to plan?"
"Yes my dear" Wesley replied as he put his case down in the room. "The wife thinks I have a conference all week in Scarborough so we have plenty of time together."
The fake Irena kissed him hungrily and ripped open his shirt massaging his chest. Wesley began massaging the fake Irena's breasts and the man inside moaned softly in appreciation as the sensations going through to his own nipples. Wesley moved around and unzipped Irena's dress which fell down to her ankles. She stepped out of it and undid the zip on his pants before easing her own sexy knickers down. Time to give him a taste of the goods as she pulled him back onto the bed and squirmed down until her face was level with his pants. Wesley's face was now level with her unwrapped pussy. She reached into his pants and pulled out his erect cock so she could begin swallowing it in her beautiful mouth. Wesley started repeating 'oh god' to himself but didn't reciprocate yet. She took her mouth away from his penis and said in her sexy sultry tones.
"I'm very very vet. Vould you like a taste." This time Wesley took the hint and began to lap at her cunt, his tongue flicking on the g-spot and sending waves of pleasure to the man beneath the suit. He started again on Wesley's penis expertly flicking it with his tongue. The beautiful Irena was driving his senses insane and it wasn't long until he came in her throat. It was too soon for the man in the Irena suit's liking but Irena obediently swallowed his cum and licked him off.
"Oh you iz zo good Vesley."
They fucked again a couple more times in the missionary position and Wesley lasted longer each time allowing the man in the suit to get the full pleasure out of it. Irena excused herself and went into the bathroom to pee, topping up her pussy with some more juice whilst she was there. She brought the handcuffs back in the bedroom with the whip and gently whipped him until he pretended to submit to the bondage. She shackled him down and massaged his cock until it came back to life. She then rode the strapped down man ensuring that his penis was rubbing on her fake g-spot. She'd already come three times in the suit and she figured that after this round she'd need a bath to clean out all his semen as well as his own. Wesley's penis was hard, but by now not as hard as it had been first time so she had to be careful how she rode him as she moaned in pleasure. After ten minutes of exertion he shot his load into her fake pussy and grunted with pleasure and pain. The man inside had come minutes before and had spent the last minutes ensuring Irena finished him off. She got off him her fake pussy dripping with his semen and headed to the bathroom where she locked the door.
"Where are you going? Don't leave me like this." Wesley whined.
"I'm just having ze bath dahlink. I vill be back in a while to play some more" the man in the Irena suit purred. He ran the warm bath with scented oils and opened the back of the suit slightly before he got into the bath. He washed out his fake pussy and felt the warm water enter the suit from the rear to start to wash away his own semen. Whilst he'd have liked to have relaxed in the bath for a while he knew he'd have to get back and see to his charge. He climbed out the bath and began drying the outside of the suit before reaching the towel down the back of the open suit to dry there. He was just about to refill his fake pussy with juice when he heard the bedroom door being kicked open and a man shout.
"This is the Police. Come out quietly with your hands up. " Shit he had to get out of here quickly. He looked at the small window opening in the bathroom and looked at the large breasts on the front on the suit. His full feminine bust would be too wide for the window. He had to get out of the suit quickly. He pulled the nail scissors from Irena's washing bag and began cutting at the latex to get out as quickly as he could.
"This is your final warning. Armed officers with be entering the room do not resist." The man cut the suit off below the hips and pulled everything above away since it was already open at the back. He still had the mask. arm pieces and legs on but he could squeeze through the window now. He threw a towel ahead of him and made his bid for freedom. The remains of the body of the beautiful Irena Galanov lay in ruins beside the bath.
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Anthony had called in sick on Monday so Angela could get ready for the tribunal. She turned up early, but had been forced to wait outside the room until she was called in. There were a number of other witnesses there including a Nigerian man that Angela recognised.
Angela was forced to wait as witness after witness was called into the room. She pre-occupied herself people watching and listening to the other witnesses badmouthing Theresa. It was possible that Angela's original plan might have worked, but she was starting to doubt it now. Still it may help offset some of the backlash that she would inevitably get. It was just as well that Angela had a backup plan.
Finally Angela was called into the tribunal. There were three Tribune judges at the table at the front of the room with copious notes in front of them. Sally Chang sat smugly to one side and Theresa sat on the other side looking very worried. On another day the Lord of Petty Revenges would have taken great satisfaction in seeing her take a fall, but today the Angel of Mercy had chosen to save her. Not for her sake, but for her loyal husband Mark.
The old man in the centre asked Angela her name.
"Angela Clemence" she replied and they dutifully wrote it down.
"And could you tell us how you know Theresa please?" The middle aged woman to the right asked her.
"Of course. Mrs Entwhistle-Houghton was a friend at school and she was marvellous when she helped me transition from being Andrew to Angela."
"You were a man?" The third man in a suit said incredulously.
"Yes." Angela replied ."I was but those days are gone and thanks to Theresa's help I'm much happier as a woman."
"I'm sorry I find it hard to believe." The suit exclaimed.
"Would it be easier if I spoke as I was." Anthony said in a modified form of his own voice.
"Incredible" the man responded.
"I'd like to add a little more evidence to this tribunal if I may" Angela asked simply.
"Yes, what is it my dear?" The old man said. Angela reached into her bag and produced some photos. She stepped over to the desk in her heels and placed them in front of the Tribunal Judges.
"These pictures were taken last Wednesday night. I think they clearly show Miss Chang working in her brother's Chinese restaurant as a waitress. I believe that you may find that she has not declared her second employment to either you or the tax man. I'm not sure that I would trust the word of a benefit cheat and someone who has broken her contract over a clearly reputable member of your staff."
The old man and the other two looked closely at the photos.
"So what have you to say for yourself Miss Chang?" The old judge asked.
"Can I go now?" Angela interrupted.
"Oh yes my dear. Thank you very much for bringing this to our attention." With that Angela sashayed from the room wiggling her bum as she went. She winked at Mr Umbowa as she headed out of the offices.
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Mark rang to thank Angela sometime later in the afternoon. Miss Chang had been sacked and reported to the police. Theresa had been let off with a stern warning on her record about her comments, but they had told her that her reference at the Immigration Welcome centre had shown that it must have been a one accidental comment.
Mark wanted to thank Angela for all that she'd done for them and offered to share some of the reward from the insurance company with Angela which she had gratefully accepted. Mark told Angela that they'd caught Mr Caplin the night before and he had eventually told them where the remaining money was in the face of overwhelming evidence against him. The police were apparently still looking for his accomplice in crime.
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Wesley Caplin had been answering questions for hours. The tape they'd played him was conclusive evidence of his guilt and he could hardly deny it so he'd told them everything for the chance of a more lenient sentence. They'd asked him about his accomplice and he'd told them that it was the model Irena Galanov. They'd then told him the most outrageous lie that it was actually a man in a high tec bodysuit. He'd refused to believe it no matter what they told him. He'd fucked her repeatedly and he knew the feel of a woman's pussy and he knew that no man could do the things she'd done.
It was only when they'd brought the remains of the cut up suit in for him to look at that he started to believe them and his world was shattered. The lovely pussy that he'd fucked was a tube that went into a padded hip and butt area. A pouch with thin metallic rings on the inside was connected to a thin tube that went to the urethra. Irena's lovely breasts were silicon breast forms built into the suit with a wire leading to a sensor pad on the inside that would connect to a man's nipple. It was clumsily cut off at the arms and below the hips but he could tell it was real. The outside of the pussy was real looking and the tuft of black pubic hairs above the vagina matched his view of Irena's quim when he was licking her out.
He'd fucked a fake - repeatedly. He'd fucked a man and he felt sick.
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Anthony had accepted Mark's offer of the money for two reasons. Firstly he and Anwyn would need the money to help pay for the wedding. Weddings were notoriously expensive affairs and he didn't have much in the way of savings. Secondly he needed a new wardrobe to put all the new clothes that Angela felt she deserved.
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The Queen of the Office had survived the revolt against her. She sat down on her sofa at home and reflected that perhaps she might try a little bit harder to cultivate people in the office so that she had more allies the next time something like this happened. She didn't think that she could stand having to grovel to someone like Angela again. I mean she had called her a bitch after all and that was something that was hard to forgive. Besides she'd worked something out that she'd not noticed at the time. Claire had drunk Champagne whilst at her house. Normally she would have refused as she was still going to her AA meetings. The fact that she hadn't had given her a clue that something was wrong. Yesterday she'd asked Claire whether she'd enjoyed the welcome home spread she'd put on that Monday. Claire had asked what she was talking about. Somehow that interloper into her sex had managed to get someone to impersonate Claire Hughes. She didn't know what she was going to do with that information yet, but for now she file it away for later.
Theresa had one final little barb to that Transsexual tart. She'd got them membership of the Country Club as she'd promised, but they were associate memberships. They'd need a member to sign them in each time they went there. It was a little strike back, but for now the Queen was happy that she had not given in completely in the face of adversary.
Out now on Amazon - Katerina Hellam’s new book Finneas Awakes!
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Finneas-Awakes-Transgender-Adventur...
Comments
I don't buy his angel of
I don't buy his angel of mercy act he's still being petty and only helping certain people to benefit himself while screwing over people that don't necessarily deserve it.