You wake up to a pleasant surprise. (One that even makes you forget you messed up the wig.) Luke’s warm, nude body holds you tight, breathing placidly. And why wouldn’t he? Days before, you were only a dream to him – now, you are his reality, and you'll surely dismiss any doubts he may have.
You rub his cheeks tenderly, moved by the genuine smile in his lips. Your gesture slowly wakes him from his stupor. He opens his eyes, and when he sees you, his grin widens. “Hello, my lady.”
You mount atop him, grabbing the little layers of fat in his abdomen, then pinch them tightly. “Just so you know this isn’t a dream.”
“Not like I was suspecting of it.” He steals a kiss, grabbing your ass. “Though, maybe I’d like further testing.”
“I need to go to work in a while,” you tell him, but you quickly plunge your glory hole into his totem pole. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a quickie.”
“Mmm...” He grabs you as you ride him, relaxing. “I like the sound of that.” As you start forming a rhythm, he surprises you with an odd request. “Say, you remember the girl I brought?”
“The blonde?” You moan. “Mmhmm.”
“Will you be this fiery if she was the one in this bed, instead of me?”
--
Your “quickie” ended up being a “slowie” and “deepie”, but you don’t mind. You still have some time to take a shower and work up a quick breakfast. To your surprise, however, Luke offered to make the latter while you did the former, provided you showed him your atelier. As he grasps the elaborate costume, his question reminds you of his comment during sex. “Is this tight on you?”
“It has a few tricks to build a cleavage and cinch some stuff, but it’s actually very comfortable. The skirts usually have devices that make wearing them loose, if a bit heavy.”
“I’ve wondered how it’d feel wearing one since I met you. It must feel exhilarating.”
“You want to wear dresses?” You try to twist it into a cocky question, but you feel it like a lament.
“Just to satisfy my curiosity. I’m always dazzled by how beautiful they look on you, but they look so complex. Makes me think if it’s worth the time, the suffering and the effort.”
“Well,” you confess, “it’s complicated sometimes, but the pay-off makes it all worthwhile.”
“I started having these thoughts after I caught that girl I showed the members of the Society as a test. I even dreamt I wore one of your costumes, complete with elaborate wig.”
You snicker. “I’ll admit it’s addictive. It felt odd at first, but...” You stop as you feel very self-conscious.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s just... I remember the first time my great-grandmother made me wear one of these. I fell in love with them, but Mum and Dad insisted I had to wear proper attire. Once I broke out of high school, I rebelled. I snuck a few pieces in high school, but at college I embraced this style and never left it.”
“Sounds like your typical teenager.”
“But that’s the problem. When I try to bring back those memories, I can’t. The details are there, but the images aren’t. I can’t remember that first dress I wore. The only thing I can remember vividly is... well... the outfit I wore when I donned this skin.”
“I see...” He approaches you, grasping your hand. “And that must drive you crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s a constant reminder that I’m not the woman I claim to be.”
You see him try – and fail – to straighten the smile on his lips and the laughter in his tongue. “Is that why you insisted that I speak your name?”
“Yes. Because... that way, someone else would recognize me for who I am.”
“Claudia.” You hear your name, and it makes your heart stir. “When I said you’re better than you ever were, I meant it. I love this new aspect of you. If you need me to remind you that you’re Claudia Nicholls, I will – every second of every day. I will remind you that you’re a wonderful woman with a bright future as the head librarian of Tyneside Municipal.”
“Oh, you flatterer!”
“And a magnificent partner in bed.” He brings you close, letting you see the dreams in his eyes. “Was it good for you?”
You shiver and squirm, but not of disgust. His voice reminds you of the shocking current that overwhelmed you, of the sheer thrill of his moans and grunts, and the hot, slimy explosion on your womb each time he climaxed. Recalling that last feeling leaves you salivating, licking your lips in delight. “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have asked for more.”
“Then why lament over what you can’t remember? Perhaps in time you’ll reclaim those memories.” He cocks his head, his smirk quizzical and amused. “Is that why you said you’ll always be Claudia? Does that help you remember them?”
“No. Like I said, it serves as a reminder.”
“I think it’s something else. I feel it’s an affirmation. Each time you embrace your sexuality, your femininity, you assert who you are. And that’s alright – perhaps soon enough, that doubt that blocks your deepest memories will shatter, and you’ll fully embrace who you are.”
He seals his pep talk with a kiss that makes you grin. “Thank you, Luke. I suppose that’s why you understand me.”
“Why?”
“You want to be that girl, don’t you?”
He snorts nervously. “Oh, no, no...! I just want to know what it’d feel to be her. Maybe if I start liking it too much, but I can’t make my judgment only by wearing her face. It’s not like in your case, Claudia. You love being yourself so much, it’s a necessity. In my case? It’s just curiosity.”
“Then I’ll help you live it. As long as you also experience being one of my suitors, of course.”
“Oh, definitely! I want to experience it all, Claudia. It’ll be like the ultimate Hallowe’en costume – truly becoming someone else, rather than feign being one.”
“Well, when you put it that way...”
“Now, take a good shower while I cook you something delicious.”
“I’m one for light breakfasts – nothing too fancy or too heavy.”
“Don’t worry – I know my way through breakfasts. Just clean yourself, touch every corner of your skin, and remember you’re the woman every girl envies.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You replace the lady Montresse’s wig on the headstand – figuring it’ll need a thorough fix – and remove your faux jewelry as you prepare for a hard day of work.
--
You make a quick stop at Luke’s apartment to leave him there. Stepping out, he reminds you of your plan. “You’ll look for me once your shift’s over, right?”
“Of course. You can always stay with me if you want.”
“And this time we’ll test the new pen, right?”
“Yes,” you exclaim. You discussed making some replacements on the way, just like the one in the Anderson’s house, finding some worth in preparation. You don’t plan on using yours just yet, but having Luke create his own will let him act freely. “Once we arrive home, of course.”
“I’ll have to deal with the providers for Estelle’s set. She promised she’d have the money by Friday.”
“You’ll give her a set?”
“As long as she abides by the idea that everyone in the Society – even you – are off-limits. She’ll probably try to find someone hotter than you, but who cares? She’ll never be as interesting as you, my lady.”
“Stop it!”
“But that’ll help me gauge the providers. For now, I’m planning to unload one of your guy Leslie’s stacks on them and keep Estelle’s money as clean bills.”
“Isn’t that risky?”
“If they catch us, my replacement will distract them. If they find us, we can always hide under different faces.”
“But what if they seek us in a Society meeting?”
“That’ll add another layer of security. If someone’s wearing a skin, we’ll find out. At least you’re safe now.”
“I just don’t want you to endanger yourself. Don’t--”
“It’ll be this stack, and this stack alone. Like I told Leslie – if the trail leads the cops to me, I can say it’s just part of business. And if cops deal with them...”
“Just don’t get too overconfident. Anyways, I’ll be late, so--”
“Don’t worry,” he says, winking at you. “See you at night.”
“See you at light, my lord.” You blow a kiss, and he captures it, and it makes you feel giddy. You feel the day will flow very nicely.
--
At least, until you arrive at work, as you’re immediately called by Mrs. Dreuxler for a private reunion. She beckons you to seat, as you notice Smithers is waiting. Her exhalation tells you it’s serious. “Mr. Smithers, Ms. Nicholls, I’ve called you here because I wanted to discuss something important.”
She’ll talk about her incoming retirement, you predict. And that the City Hall will move in with the cut.
“As you know, the City Hall has pressured us to justify our budget. Both the City Library and this one have experienced a fall in revenue and visitors, and they find it hard to sustain both. You know that, without the aid of the city, we’d be forced to close.”
“Get to the point,” Smithers demands.
“The aldermen demand knowing if we have a proposal to allocate further funds. Mr. Smithers proposes an auction of some of our collections, particularly those that may have duplicate copies of books. He also proposes to turn our library into a goodwill-style bookstore, renovating and selling old and unused books.”
Of course, you hiss internally. All you care is your fucking pockets.
“Mr. Smithers proposed that you dealt with the restoration process, being the most qualified. I was wondering what your thoughts on this were.”
You obviously have your proposal – the concepts of one, to be precise – but this could help Merry and Leslie a lot faster. If you agree, you could always outmaneuver Smithers later, but you’d be able to check if the pens are here. And if all else fails? You could always cash in Leslie’s favor.
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