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The Costume
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
COSTUME
"I bet that you can't create a costume that we can't
recognize you in at the party," Tom challenged.
I said, "You're on!". What else could I say? I had
been bragging all night about my costume. In reality, I didn't
even have one yet.
With this now wrestling in my mind, I looked up at the
crowd. It was a busy night at Fat Tuesdays, our favorite happy
hour spot. This is where anybody who wanted to be seen went.
Usually the guys are overdressed, and the girls are
underdressed, but I liked it that way. I loved to look at the
women, the fine curves, swelling breasts, swaying hips, smooth
skin, the roundness of their asses. I had gotten more than my
share of dirty looks back, but I didn't mind.
Tonight, though, there was a woman, within earshot, who
kept giving me the once over. The best part was that she was
easily the hottest person, male or female, in the joint. I found
that I very much liked her going over my body. Her voice was the
ultimate in sexy, soft, and throaty.
She seemed to be following the conversation at our table.
This last thought brought me back to my current dilemma.
What costume or disguise could I wear that would fool all the
guys at the table. This was made even harder by the fact that I
wouldn't just have to fool these three guys, Tom, Ambrose, and
Bryan, but every female at the party. You see, of the
three, I was the homeliest. I was by no means ugly; I was just
the quietest and least confident of the group. They had every
girl with which they had slept, and with which they were still
on speaking terms, trying to find me a date.
The table was just getting around to the stakes of the
bet. That was the best part of it: everyone at the table was to
participate in the bet. Whoever found out who aomeone was was to
get the services of that person for a week. I didn't like this
bet: I had done this last month for a racquet ball match
which I lost, of course. I had never been so busy or embarrassed
in all my life. I had done everything from scrubbing bathroom
stalls to chauffeuring a beautiful lady in my underwear. Now,
more than ever, I had an incentive to find a costume, and I had
less that 48 hours to do it.
Being as it was Thursday night and closer to midnight
than eleven, the other three finished their drinks and left. I,
beginning to sink lower into despair, ordered another drink. This
was something that I shouldn't have done. I had had too many
already. I was nursing my fifth drink when I caught the blonde
that I mentioned earlier wandering over to my now deserted table.
"Hi,there," she said.
"Hello," I grudgingly responded.
"I hope I'm not being too forward, but I couldn't help
hearing about your costume party and the bet which you made."
"Yeah, I shot my mouth off pretty big, and I don't even
have a costume yet."
"Well that's sort of what I gathered by your expression
and the drinks you have been ordering since they left. I think I
can help you out. I have a friend who has just opened a one of
kind, exotic costume, and make-up parlor. She deals in making
disguises that go from head to toe. She does disguises for
stars so that they can go out in public undetected. Her shop is
new here in town, and, if you go and mention my name, she will do
you for cost of the make-up."
For some reason, probably either the beer or just that I
hadn't
had sex in about two months, this women was turning me on. She
seemed to
be my every fantasy. I was just listening to her voice and
figured, if
nothing else, this disguise thing would be a way of staying close
to her
longer. Parts of my body, which I thought were long ago deadened
by
alcohol, were coming to life.
"Well, how about showing me the way?" I asked. I didn't
expect
the shop to be open, but I was definitely hoping for other
things.
"Sure, she's a night person, and her place is open all
night." I
really didn't believe her, but who the hell was I to argue with
someone
who looked like she did?
"Let me finish my drink," I said. I wasn't so sure
about this
now. This seemed a little too convenient. I was starting to
think she had
a friend waiting outside. But my alcohol deadened brain was
overtaken by
my lust. I finished my beer with one last gulp and said, "Let's
go."
Just walking out of the bar, my dick grew another three
inches.
Her hips swayed dramatically in her high heels. She was wearing a
tight
one piece sweater-dress that ended just below the inward curve of
her
behind. Her waist went in so much that it almost didn't look
natural. It
did emphasize the widening of her hips and the gentle bubble of
her
buttocks. Being slightly to the left and rear of her I
could see her breast protruding from in front of her arm. There
was a lot
to
see. Judging by eye, one hand would not nearly cover one breast.
They
jiggled and bounced as she walked. I could see the swell pushing
to get
over the top edge of the front of her one-piece outfit with each
step she
took.
Suddenly a blast of cool air hit me, and I realized we
were
outside.
This saved me from going over the edge and caused my friend to
slow down
slightly to where she was walking next to me. My fears of her
having a
friend outside to acquire my wallet never materialized.
We hailed a cab and headed for her friend's shop. The
address she
gave turned out to be on the other side of town which was a 30
minute
drive, if we were lucky. When she put her hand on my thigh, I
was sure I
was going to be lucky.
When our lips met, I saw fireworks. I had never believed
that
corny saying until that kiss. It was as though we were electric.
Before I
new what I was doing, I pulled down the top of her dress. God!
I didn't
even know her name.
"Excuse me," I said, "What's your name?"
"I was wondering when you were going to ask. It's Kari."
"Kari, my name is-," I started.
"I already know. It's Rob. I heard part of the
conversation at
your table tonight," she purred. I then noticed that her dress
was pulled
down around her waist. Boy, I was really tipsy tonight.
"Lets get back to what we were doing," she offered.
Without
another word we were back at as if we had never stopped. I
reached down to
release her front latching bra and watched as her breasts
bounced free
from their
restrictions. They bounced and swayed with every movement of the
car. I
was mesmerized.
Chuck, my dick's pet name, was also was responding to the
stimuli.
So much so that he had found his way through my now open pants
and under
the sweater- dress. It was as if he had a heat sensor because I
could feel
the warmth coming from her groin.
I was now massaging her magnificent globes. Electric
shocks seemed
to travel up my fingers, and I swirled my fingers around the
brown
aerolea. Then, lightly squeezing her nipples, I got the surprise
of my
life: MILK! I heard her say "Suck them PLEASE," and I was in no
condition to refuse. I had never tasted breast milk before, and
this was
creamy and sweet tasting. I got so involved with her breasts,
that I
didn't even realize that she had pulled off her dress, and my
tool was
inside of her. We continued to make love in this
contorted position. For some reason, I couldn't stop. It was
like an
addiction.
Suddenly, I a felt tug down below. It was as if Chuck
was being
pulled farther in and at the same time squeezed. The sensations
of sucking
milk and being inside a woman were fulfilling all my sexual and
psychological fantasies at once. Finally, the cab put on the
brakes and
the sudden urgency of the trip coming to an end sent me over the
edge.
Chuck starting spitting out like he never had before, and, as
near as I
can guess, Kari reached her climax also as the pulling sensation
intensified, and she pressed my head farther into her breast. I
was
sucking so hard that my cheeks were getting sore. Finally Chuck
had his
last sputter and I went totally limp, not just Chuck but my whole
body. It
was some seconds before I was able to start dressing. By the
time I was
able to look up, Kari had pulled her dress back on and was
preening her
hair, a shoulder length blond perm, back into shape.
"This is the place," she stated. I paid the cabby the
outrageous
fare, at which point he look at me, winked, and gave half of it
back. I
helped Kari out of the cab and escorted her to the front of the
shop.
Walking by it, you would never guess that it was a place
business. Kari,
seeing my disbelief, said that her friend liked to keep a low
profile
since stars liked to come by to get a once over.
When I entered the store, I noticed the time on the
clock: 12:30.
I would have to call in sick tomorrow, even though I didn't have
to be in
till 10. I suddenly started to feel funny. I tried to attribute
it to
coming down from the alcohol, but it was unlike any such feeling
I'd had
before. It was more a lethargic feeling, like I wanted to go into
hibernation.
It was a while before I realized that Kari was talking to
someone
in the
corner of the store. I was still standing at the front door. It
was when I
saw to whom Kari was talking that I realized a man can have more
than one
perfect fantasy woman. The other woman had the same lustiness and
animal
magnetism that Kari had, and she had the same figure with some
distinct
differences. The first things I noticed about her, since they
were so
prominent, were her breasts. They were an extra large size but
with a
perky, upturned look to them.
Kari and she walked over, and Kari introduced her as
Mona. She
had a high melodic voice, and I was in love for the second time
that
night.
"Hi! Kari tells me you're in need of some help. Before
you say
anything,
let me explain. What I do is very special. It is a complete
disguise. I
use
synthetic material on the skin to change your features. My work
is so
good that oftentimes people loose themselves in the character I
create,"
Mona said.
This sounded great to me, as there was now hope that the guys
would never
recognize me.
"This is great!" I exclaimed. "I need something that
will pass
the scrutiny of three guys at a party."
"I have just the thing for you," Mona expressed. "Just
sit right
down here while I fill you in on the history of the character I
want to
create. First of all, the character is female." I instantly sat
back up.
"Don't worry about that. If you want to fool men, this
is the one
sure way to do it." I sat back down reluctantly. I had a small
but weak
voice telling me that I was accepting this too easily. I chose
to ignore
the voice.
"This girl is known as the chameleon. She takes on the
shape of
any man's
fantasy. She does this by letting her subconscious mind take the
information directly from the man's subconscious mind. In order
for the
process to work, she must be in the man's vicinity for a period
of time.
The time varies, dependent upon the intensity of the man's
fantasy. The
chameleon then gives the man what he desires most sexually.
After which
she has control over him, both physically, and mentally. She is
able to
change his form or mind, to read his thoughts or change them,"
Mona
explained.
"That sounds great. I wish I had that power," I blurted,
without
thinking.
"Ah, yes, but there is a catch, she is controlled by
what, for
lack of a better term, is a master or, in more modern terms, a
pimp. He
has the same
control which the chameleon has, but it is over her. He has the
power
over her because he seduced her in what she thought was a dream.
A dream
in which she imagined herself as a man having sex with a woman.
Only it
wasn't a dream it was a rite. It is said that if she could kill
her
master she would have power over both sexes at will. The problem
is that
he knows her thoughts, so it has never happened."
It was soon after Mona finished her story that I passed
out. When
I woke up, I looked down, and all I could see was a blanket over
me, and I
could feel a tugging at the back of my head. "I see you're
awake," Mona
said. "You passed out just as I began the make-up, and I decided
to
complete it with you unconscious."
It was then that I became aware of odd feelings all over
my body.
It felt as if my whole body was constricting. "I notice your
discomfort.
It is just the make-up glue drying, and, as it dries, it tends to
contract," Mona explained.
I then reached up to scratch my head, at which point I
found out
what was tugging at my head. What I had thought was a pillow
under my
head was actually hair. It was very long strawberry blond hair,
at that,
and, even worse, it felt as though it were attached to my head.
It wasn't
coming off as I pulled at it either.
"Don't worry, Rob, that is really your hair. I used a
new
process, called growth extension, on it. It's sort of like
growing
crystals, only it is done with hair. I put this chemical in your
hair,
stick your hair in a solution, and the stuff grows on the end.
It will
come right off with the special shampoo," Mona calmly told me.
Next, I noticed that the hand and arm which were
scratching my
head
didn't have any hair, and I could swear that they looked somehow
daintier.
Again, Mona was ready with an explanation. "I'm sorry, that is
the one
privilege which I took. I removed almost all of your body hair.
This,
along with the shading make-up makes your body look smaller."
Next were the hands and fingernails. Mona continued to
explain
the changes as I noticed them. "Your hands are softer looking,
mainly the
result of a manicure which involved soaking them in a formula not
unlike
moisturizing cream that helped eliminate calluses and scars."
She didn't
say anything about my fingernails, but I couldn't tell them from
my own,
and they were painted bright red and extended about a half inch
past my
finger tips.
Lying on my back all this time, I had noticed two things.
One, it
felt like I was sitting on a pillow or something, and, two, the
tented
effect of the
blanket as if it were being help up by something. As I started
to slide
the
blanket down, both a shock shot up my spine and a knot was tied
in my
stomach.
The sheet was definitely not just tented up, for, as I
slid the
sheet
down, it took an upward slope. What was underneath gave slightly
to the
pressure by flattening out. What I saw on my chest was
definitely
breasts, bigger than many women's that I had admired. They were
covered
only by a lattice work of material that looked like leather but
clung like
spandex.
The commentary started again, "What you are now seeing
are silicon
implants, of the same type which are used in breast
augmentations. They,
as well as the rest of your body, are covered by what looks like
a leather
lattice outfit but actually serves to hold the synthetic skin in
place
until the glue dries. Underneath this outfit are prosthetic
devices that
give you the feminine curves."
Boy, was she right. I couldn't tell the difference
between the
synthetic skin and my real skin. The only way I could tell that
it wasn't
me, was when I touched myself. It all felt real enough, but it
fell like
touching myself through a plastic bag or with a balloon between
my finger
and my skin. In places it felt more real than I would cared for.
As I
sat up, I noticed what she meant by feminine curves. I had a
perfect
hourglass figure, and the lattice work outfit ran all the way
down to my
ankles.
I noticed the bit of areolea and nipples under the
outfit, and
that they looked real. When I sat up, the breasts bounced and
jiggled
just as I had seen them do on countless women, The angle from
which I was
seeing it being the only difference.
With my excitement growing, I finally looked up and saw
myself in
a mirror. At first, I didn't believe that it was my reflection.
It was
when the expression of surprise showed on the face in the mirror
that I
realized it was definitely mine.
My nose, which had always seemed rather wide and large,
seemed too
small and slightly pointed. I now had high cheekbones with just
the right
amount of blush to them. My lips were a full, sensual, glossy
red. All
the pimple scars from my youth were gone. I had fine, high,
arching
eyebrows, and lashes that now hit the top of my brow when I
blinked.
Make-up had been expertly applied to my face.
Mona began explaining again, "The same technique which
was used on
your body was used on your face. A little plastic here and
there, and
then a shadowing job to make things look right."
As I sat the rest of the way up in order to get down from
the
make-up table, I would have sworn that I had to stretch to reach
the
armrest to pull myself up, and, when I sat up, I noticed that my
feet
barely touched the ground even with high heels on. When I looked
down to
see why I was having trouble touching the floor, I got another
surprise.
I couldn't even see my feet. My new breasts were obstructing my
view.
Looking down at *my* breasts caused butterflies of excitement.
As I was
looking at this, I was believing less and less. Mona was telling
me that
she had raised the table while I was out, so that she could work
on me
better.
By this time I should have had an erection that would
have burst
through this disguise, but I didn't. I was starting to get
concerned
because I
didn't see anything there, under the lattice work. When I
reached my
hand down there, I even felt a soft depression.
Again, Mona was there to calm me, "This is my finest work
ever,
and I used a small secret of mine to accomplish it. By putting a
special
salve on you penis, it can be made to shrink and pull within the
scrotal
sack. This salve also deadens the nerve endings, essentially
preventing
an erection. The effect of deadening the male sex drive is also
produced.
This salve was said to have been used by the Egyptian eunuchs,
who were
not truly eunuchs, and, later, in the monasteries of the medieval
times."
I had too many emotions and sensations going through my
body at
this point to fully take in this last comment. I still noticed
the
constricting feeling and realized that my 5' 10" frame no longer
seemed
that, even with heels on. I was my own fantasy!
I said the first thing that popped to mind, "Wow!" My
voice,
however, pulled me back to reality as it didn't at all match the
body.
Mona handed me a pill, "Take this, and the illusion will
be
complete. It will cause a tightening of your vocal cords, raising
your
voice to a suitable female range. It will make you sleepy, but I
will
wake you in time for your party."
It was then that I noticed a rather large, muscular man
walking
down the stairs. "Hi," he said. "My name is Cary."
Mona interjected with, "Rob, if you don't mind, Cary can
complete
your character by being your master at the party tonight. What
do you
say, Rob?"
"Sure," I hesitantly replied. For some reason, all I
could manage
was
that one word. Even thouhg it hadn't been my original thought,
it seemed
right now.
I felt like I had a hangover as I walked over to the
sofa, and, as
I walked, I was keenly aware of the swaying of my hips to
accommodate for
the high heels. My breasts were doing their best to throw off
what little
coordination I had left. They seemed to have an inertia all
their own.
They kept swaying left while I was shifting right. I politely
told
everyone that I was going to try to sleep off this hangover. I
then took
the pill Mona gave me without even thinking about it.
I laid down and closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, I
was
being nudged
awake by Cary the Conan. He had on nothing but a g-string. I
turned over
onto
my back which, with all these new bumps glued on me, was one of
the most
comfortable positions I could assume.
It was funny, but the costume felt almost natural now.
The
lattice leather bodysuit seemed to move when my fake skin didn't,
and the
constrictions of the glue were gone. They were replaced by a
tingling
feeling. The electric tingling was more intense at my breast and
groin.
The funny part was that the tingling in my chest was coming from
a point
that should not have been part of my body. My nipples were so
sensitive
that rubbing against the suit caused
them to become erect. I could see my nipples. What was
happening?
Why was I breathing so hard? It was hard to concentrate.
Then I
realized that the tingles were in direct relation to Cary
touching my
body. I didn't even know when he had started touching me, but he
was on
his knees over my legs now. He was un-velcro-ing the lattice
over my
groin. Where was Chuck at? I had a sudden, uncontrollable
desire to
spread my legs. I knew that, if I opened them, the pleasure I
was feeling
would increase. I managed to get them around Cary's knees, and I
noticed
that he wasn't wearing his g-string anymore. He had an erection
that
would choke a horse.
My brain was screaming out that this couldn't be
happening. I was
a man, what was wrong with me. The urge to open my legs to him
was
fogging my mind. I suddenly realized that I was arching my
pelvis up in
the air toward Cary, but
there was no way he could enter me: I still had a penis. I
tried to
scream. He was going to enter my asshole! I was not gay, and I
didn't
want this. I closed my eyes, still unable to stop thrusting my
hips
upward, and trying to stop it was impossible, though I tried.
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