Mission Impossible? Part 1

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Mission Impossible?

by Amber Lynn Kain

The yellow, convertible Mustang cruised along the straight stretch of highway, eating the miles. The 302 hummed quietly; its owner took very good care of the car. While not mechanically inclined, he appreciated a fine tuned machine. Arron made sure his "stang" was cared for. He smiled, turned up the CD player louder and pushed down on the gas pedal.

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A little later Arron reached down and flipped on the lights. Twin beams shot from the nose of the car and brightened the twilight. Up ahead he saw what he was searching for, a Holiday Inn was only few miles further down the road. In a few minutes, the yellow sports car pulled into the hotel's parking lot. Arron raised the roof and locked it into place. Getting one of his bags and a shopping bag from the trunk of the car, Arron turned, locked the car and set the alarm.

After checking in, Arron opted for the elevator to the second floor instead of the stairs. Paying attention to the signs, he soon found the suite. Opening the door, Arron dragged his bag into the room and heaved it on the bed. It wasn't really heavy; he just wasn't that strong. Being 5'4" and weighting only 135 lbs did not give him a build that would make it easy to lift any heavy object. However, his size did provide him with lots of dressing options.

Arron went into the bathroom and started the shower. The shower took a little longer than usual; he lathered his very short hair and shaved what little beard he had. He stepped from the shower and dried himself off slowly, watching himself in the mirror. Reaching for the shopping bag he left on the counter, he pulled out the bottle of scented lotion and began to rub it into his skin, paying extra attention to his feet and elbows. He ran his hands up and down his legs; they felt so smooth. He was glad he spent the money on a professional waxing. The girl was a little rude when she found out what he wanted, but she did a great job in removing all his body hair.

He turned on the console lights over the large mirror. He washed his face and began the transformation he had not done since he joined the Army two years earlier. Now that he was discharged, he felt safe to do so. He reached into the shopping bag and took out all of its contents: mascara, foundation, concealer, several lipsticks, more cosmetics, and set them on the bathroom vanity. Arron stepped out of the restroom and went to his bag on the bed. There he emptied out the items he had specially ordered from a catalog.

A small beige gaff, black lace panties and a matching bra lay on the bedspread. As he touched the gaff, his breath deepened. Slowly, Arron stepped into the small garment and pulled it up his legs. When it reached his thighs, he pushed his balls up deep inside and pulled back his small penis between his hairless legs. He held his penis with one hand and pulled the gaff tight against his crotch. The panties slid up easily and lay flat against the gaff. No sign of the gaff or his maleness was visible under the black lace.

Arron went back to into the bathroom. He knew from practice what to do next even though he had not transformed himself for a great while. But hey, he thought, I would never forget how to do this. Besides, he did study every beauty magazine he could find. He shrugged his shoulders and turned on the portable radio he brought with him. Some pop princess belted out her latest tune, while Arron picked up the tube of concealer.

He dotted his face to hide the few blemishes he had. Many of his roommates' girlfriends complimented him on his great skin and his nice tan. Although he did not dress while serving, he continued to use moisturizer and tanning lotion through his enlistment. Next, using a cosmetic pad, he applied a light coat of foundation. Steadily, he traced the eyeliner around his blue eyes to give them a dramatic effect, followed by brown eye shadow brushed onto his folds of his eyelids. He then applied several coats of mascara to his eyelashes to lengthen and finish his eyes. Arron opened the lid to the blush and brushed a faint trace of rose powder over his cheekbones. After he smoothed his look with face powder, he smiled as he snapped the compact shut.

He walked back over to the bed. Arron reached down and picked up the box that had only come days before his discharge papers. He went into the bathroom and opened the box. Nervously, he took out the size 4 breast forms and held them to his small, flat chest. He nodded at the effect the teardrop silicone forms gave him. He applied the adhesive to the back and placed one, then the other on his chest. As if in a trance, he watched his buxom chest rise and fall.

Biting his lower lip, he brought out the wig he purchased. The color was jet black and was cut into a pageboy that fell to just below his chin. Arron held the wig upside down, then ducked his head into it and pulled it on to his head. He tossed his hair and pushed the strands from his face. He then picked his wig smooth.

His hands shook slightly as he reached for the lip liner. Skillfully, he outlined his lips with the pencil. Arron tried to stay with latest fashion when he dressed. The current trend was to trace the lips but not fill them in. Once he completed the outline, he tossed the pencil on the vanity, fluffed his hair and took a step back.

The effect was startling. No longer did a skinny boy stand in front of the mirror, but an attractive, stacked young woman. The attractive girl pushed the stray hairs from her face and walked out into the bedroom. She picked up the black lace bra and hooked it around her slim waist. She started to slide the lacey bra around but stopped, unhooked it and tossed it on the bed. She reached into the bag and brought out the top she intended to wear. The girl pulled the top over her head and the sheer, black material clung to every part of her body. The blouse's material stretched over the breast forms and accented the brown nipples on them. Pleased with the effect, she reached in the bag and took out the black spandex mini skirt that matched the top and stepped into it. She pulled the skirt up over her long smooth legs and pushed the sheer top's material down into the waistband.

Her hands smoothed the short skirt as she sat down on the bed and began to put on her high heels she had brought with her. They were black sandals that laced up her ankles with a slim 4 inch heels. She fastened the little silver buckles around her ankles and stood up slowly. She hadn't walked in heels for a long time, but after she took a few practice steps, she quickly adjusted to walking in them. She stepped in front of the mirror and gazed at her reflection...she turned right, then left, then around and looked over her shoulder at her image. She was hot...and she knew it.

A wail pierced, the evening and snapped her from her self-admiration. It was her Mustang's car alarm. Quickly, she grabbed her car keys from her pants pocket that she had thrown onto the top of the clothes drawer and bolted for the door. Thinking she had forgotten something, she stopped and turned back to retrieve her key card. She frantically flipped through the cards in the wallet and at last located the one she sought. She raced as quickly as her high heels let her down the hallway and out to the stairs, then down to the parking lot. She cursed when she heard the wide tires squeal and the motor gun. She flung open the side door in time to see her car speed from the lot and onto the highway. She stood there, her hands out to her side...she wanted to cry. Then she became angry. No way is that ass gonna take my rod, she thought. She turned and ran back inside to her room. Dialing the lobby, she asked for the police after she told the desk clerk what had happened.

Chapter 2

Amber waited for about 20 minutes when a knock on the door came. She answered the door and two police officers stood there. They smiled, took off their hats and inquired if she was the person who had reported a vehicle stolen. She nodded and asked them to come in. They followed her into the hotel room and took out their notebooks. She looked out the window and began to tell them about the incident when she turned and caught them looking at her. Hungrily, they scanned her up and down, one cop paying attention to her long legs, while the other openly stared at her ample chest. Angrily, she told them about the auto theft and described her car in great detail to them. Going to her single bag, she brought out a picture of her car and gave it to them to help identify it. They nodded politely and said they would try but that there was a good chance the car would not be found. They told her of an auto theft ring in the area and many high profile cars that had been taken. Then asked her for her name and address.

She froze only for a second and thought about her car. Silently, she went over to the chest of drawers for her male clothes and took out her wallet. Walking back to the pair of cops she handed her driver's license to them and folded her arms. The cop looked down at the driver's license and looked up at her. Then down again and handed the license to his partner, who did a double take also.

"Arron Kain?" he read the name aloud. "This is you?"

"Yes, officer. I'm Arron Kain."

"Listen...ah...Ms. Kain, we will do our best." He noted the name and address down in his notebook.

"Thank you. That is all I can ask." She noted their change in attitude when they read his name and gender on the license.

They handed her back the driver's license and gave her a copy of the policy report. Arron smiled and thanked them again as they turned and left the room. Pushing back her hair, she went over to the phone and dialed the number on her insurance card. Filling the report only took minutes and the girl on the other end was empathetic, but not hopeful. She stated an adjuster would call her back within 24 hours to get a complete statement.
She sighed and sat down in the hotel room's easy chair. What was she going to do? Damn it. Stuck here in the middle of nowhere. She felt as is she could cry; her beloved Mustang was gone.

Arron wiped a single tear away and went over to the mirror. Fixing her makeup took only a second. Then she turned to the bedside stand where she pushed aside the Bible and grabbed the phone book. She scanned the Yellow Pages until she found what she was looking for. The pretty young man picked up the phone, dialed the reception desk and asked they call her a cab. Finding her purse Arron shoved her wallet, room key card, and a few other essentials into it and slung it on her shoulder. She stepped from her room and went to the hotel's front door to wait for her cab.

Arron watched out a lobby window for the Yellow Cab to pull into the parking lot. She glanced over her shoulders at the noise from behind her. A group of three teenage boys stood near the hotel's pool door whispering and obviously checking her out. She watched them for only a second, when they saw she had noticed them. She smiled quickly at them and all three bolted through the door in embarrassment. Watching the boys, only a few years younger, flee from her gaze made her smile. She fished in her purse, pulled out a set of sunglasses and decided to wait for her cab outside.

Standing under the hotel's awning, a slight breeze blew Arron's hair from her face and her skirt flapped across her legs. A car pulled up in the parking space several feet away. She glanced at the car barely noticing the occupants. Bored, she looked down the street for her cab. The slamming doors of the recently arrived car caused her to look back toward the late model Chevy and its occupants. A tall man approached her in blue jeans and a torn and dirty wife beater. He loomed over her as if she was a child. A mass of wavy dark hair framed his tanned face, while his t-shirt did nothing to hide his muscular chest and huge biceps. He reeked with male virility. Unconsciously, she pulled her sunglasses down to see him better. He looked at her briefly and smiled with flashing white teeth.

"Randy! Why did we stop here? I hate the Holiday Inn," a screeched called from behind the tanned Adonis. A woman followed behind him. The woman was shorter than Arron and extremely overweight with glasses and a pudgy face, dressed in a white top and faded blue shorts carrying a very ugly bag. "We should have gone somewhere else," the harpy continued whining.

She stepped aside to let the pair pass and glanced briefly at the stud and the woman that followed. The woman stared at her for a moment, then said, "My god did you see that Randy? It was a guy dressed up like a hooker. This is why we shouldn't have come here. It's disgusting."

Randy shrugged his broad shoulders, raised his hands up in an imploring gesture, and opened the door for his fat companion. His brilliant, white teeth shone again as he looked over at Arron and smiled softly. Arron lowered his eyes and bit his lip. She suddenly felt very self-conscious. Arron turned back and saw the cab pull up to the door.

Settling back in the seat of the cab, she tossed her hair and told the cabbie the address of the shop. The cabbie was an overweight, balding man of about 45, who reminded her of her high school English teacher, did a double take in the mirror and pulled out into the traffic. The trip was uneventful, the cabbie did try to engage her in some small talk, but she did not notice. Pulling up to the Doc's Adult Novelty and Bookstore, she stepped out and told the cabbie to pick her up in half an hour. One quick look at her sheer blouse and her long tanned legs sliding out from the black spandex mini skirt convinced the cabbie to return for her.

Flipping her hair, she walked as sexily as she dared into the adult bookstore. The bell gave a light tinkle as the door opened and the familiar smell of cleaning solution greeted her. She scanned the sex toys lining the walls and looked over at the bookshelves filled with photos of beautiful women and men on the covers of soft and hard-core porn magazines. The three men in the store looked down quickly trying to hide as if they were not there. Arron moved around one to see the TG/TV section where she eyed the magazines in stock. She had most of the "support" mags and better porn that could be found on the internet. She took a few steps over to the gay porn to peek at the hot young studs on the covers. Finding nothing to her taste (unlike the hottie she saw at the hotel), she headed back toward the movie stalls only to hear someone call to her.

"Honey, you will need to purchase $3.00 in tokens to go back there," the clerk lisped in a flamboyant manner.

Arron flashed a smile, strutted up to the counter and took a $5 bill out from her purse. The clerk behind the counter counted out the tokens and handed them to the young CD. "You look great. Have fun, sis." Arron kissed the air toward the clerk and went into the dark hallway that led to the movie stalls.

She moved slowly but confidently through the hallway, lit with tiny lights so you could barely read the movie playbills on the stall doors. Going toward the back, she passed several men pretending to read the playbills. Glancing quickly at a playbill, she opened a stall door and closed it behind her. Sitting down she slid the tokens into the slot and the movie came to life.

A very busty blonde was bent over kissing and stroking the monster cock of a well-built man with a thick mustache. She cooed and moaned loudly as she kissed and sucked, while he fondled her enormous tits and stroked her shapely ass. Arron took in the scene with some interest. He hoped he would be able to join in the action soon and directed his attention to the stall's left wall. A hole had been drilled about three inches in diameter and about three feet off the floor.

She watched the hole only for a few seconds when an index finger came through and began to rub the bottom of the hole back and forth. She waited and the finger started to push in and out of the hole. Quickly she knelt, placed her finger in the hole and rubbed the bottom. She waited only for a few seconds when slowly a cock appeared from the hole. It was 6 to 7 inches long, hard, covered with veins, and had a thick red, mushroom shaped head. She placed one hand on the wall and leaned forward, her tongue began to lick the tip of the cock, wetting it. She bathed the swollen member with her saliva, working up and down its length. Off screen moans could be heard from the other side of the wall while she labored. She stopped briefly and she slipped her mouth on the mushroom head and pushed her lips over it and down the shaft's length. Arron felt the cock slide over her tongue and down her throat. She started to bob her head on the cock and took breaths when the rhythm was right. More moans came from the wall when suddenly spurts of cum shot from the tip of the dick into her mouth. Surprised, she snapped her head back and jizm blew onto her face. Quickly she leaned forward, sucking and licking the man juice from the cock.

She followed the cock as it retreated into the wall wanting more but heard a zipper and the door open from the behind the wall. She wiped the cream from her face with a single finger. Not wanting to waste any, she sucked it slowly off and sat back down on the small bench seat. The movie had stopped playing so she dug into her purse and slid in two more tokens. Again, the screen on the door's stall lit up with the busty blonde still sucking and playing with the large cock. Arron watched the pair on the door for a short while longer, when she heard the door close from the booth next door. She put in another token and slid to her knees.

She pushed her hair from her eyes as she waited in the parking lot for the cab. She only had to wait a few minutes when the Yellow Cab pulled up next to her. Once in the cab, she crossed her long legs and told the cabbie to return to the hotel. Again, the cabbie leered at her in the rearview mirror and pulled onto the street. Arron licked her lips and thought for a second, she then said she was thirsty. She asked the cabbie to stop at a liquor store first. The cabbie nodded and said something about the brand of whiskey he drank. She giggled and took out her lipstick and mirror. She always wondered how big of a rod her English teacher had.

Chapter 3

Arron opened his eyes and looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was already noon. He pulled the covers over his head and groaned slightly. He didn't have a hangover or feel any of the after effects of last night's partying. He just didn't want to get up yet. He sighed, stretched his thin frame, threw the covers back and swung his hairless legs out of bed. He stripped his panties off and tossed them onto the bed. He went into the bathroom and began his routine.

After his daily bathing/shaving ritual, Arron carefully put on her daytime makeup and then pushed his small penis back between his legs and pulled up the beige gaff. The constricting material gave his front a smooth facade. He then pulled from his bag a white thong and slipped it over the gaff, hiding it completely. A pair of white shorts covered the thong, followed by a hot pink polo shirt and a pair of white Keds tennis shoes completed her outfit. She then ducked her head into her dark wig and was ready for the day.

Arron walked out of the Inn and down the street to a small strip mall, anchored by a well-known department store. Going into the store, she tried on several outfits and shoes. She finally purchased three tops and two skirts, several sets of bras and matching panties. She even bought a red and white floral bikini swimsuit. The next destination of her shopping spree led her to a drug store where she picked out several different shades of lipstick and matching nail polish.

Arron was in a great mood now. The anticipation of wearing her new clothes had lifted the clouds of the past 24 hours and promised a fun afternoon. She walked across the parking lot toward her hotel when a familiar voice shouted at her.

"There he is again! Look at him. God he makes me sick!"

Arron looked up and recognized the fat harpy followed by the tanned companion. She looked for a way to avoid their path but realized it was too late. She held her head up, continued on her course and did not look at either of the pair.

"Randy, look at that faggot. He thinks he can pretend to be a real woman." The short, gross women pointed at her. Embarrassed, the man took his wife by the arm and unsuccessfully tried to quiet her. "He makes me sick. Doesn't he bother you? I mean, just look at him!"

Suddenly, without provocation the woman leapt with surprising quickness at Arron. She swung a vicious blow at the small cross-dresser, who barely dodged the strike. Just as quick, her muscular husband positioned himself between the two. Arron dropped her bags and fled behind the big man, who held his wife at bay with one strong arm. She bit her lip and peeked around the man's muscular back and arms at his enraged spouse.

"Lisa, get a hold of yourself. What did she do? Leave her alone. Do you want to get into trouble?"

"God, Randy...he…he…" Lisa frothed at the mouth. The woman leapt again at the pretty transvestite, but was held safely in check by her husband.

Arron clutched the man's arm in fear; the woman obviously was in a rage over her. She searched her memory of the recent past for any reason to cause this reaction. Another lunge by the woman forced her to tighten her grip on the rock hard bicep. Despite the situation, she glanced at the broad shoulders and huge arms that protected her. Her breath quickened and felt an increase pressure against her gaff. Randy turned and looked down at her.

"You better go," he said in a quiet tone.

Nodding, she picked up her bags and fled from the parking lot and back to her hotel room.

Once in her room, Arron fell to the floor and sobbed. What went wrong, she thought. What did I do to her? Tears fell across her cheeks. What was going on? Sitting there, she realized she had done nothing wrong. Yet her car had been stolen and a stranger had tried to attack her. She rose to her feet and put away the things she bought, except for the swimsuit, which she laid on the bed.

She slipped out of her top, shorts and panties and left on the flesh colored gaff. She then slipped into the bikini bottom and hooked the top around her slim waist. She put her arms through the shoulder straps and brought the bra up and around her breast forms. She looked at herself in the mirror and was happy with the result. The breast forms filled out the swimsuit top, while the boy leg bottom showed no signs of her small cock.

She grabbed her large "I luv the ARMY" bag, tossed some baby oil, towel, manicure kit and some polish in it. Then she slipped on her tennis shoes. Going to the lobby, she stopped at the desk and asked that any calls for her room be transferred to the pool phone. The young man at the desk smiled and said he would be happy to do so. When she stepped into the sunlight, she slipped on her sunglasses she purchased that morning and headed for a lounge chair by the pool.

The sunshine felt good on her skin. Perspiration gathered in a pool on her flat stomach as she lay there. A splash of cold water snapped her out of her daze. Giggles followed the shower.

She sat up and in the pool at her feet were two little girls, in matching teal one-piece outfits. They laughed and giggled at each other, not paying attention to anyone else.

"Oh Miss, I am so sorry." A lady about 50 in a big orange hat and very dark glasses came up to her and sat at the end of her lounge chair. "My granddaughters didn't mean it. Girls, be careful!" The two giggled and swam toward the end of the pool.

"That's fine. No harm done."

"I am Emily Hastons from Fort Wayne, Indiana. I am traveling with my granddaughters to my daughter's house in Arizona," the woman explained.

"I am...uh...Amber. I am just traveling about."

"Oh that is nice. Going anywhere in particular?" the grandmother probed.

"No. Just traveling."

"Honey, let me tell you. You are the cutest thing. I mean you certainly fill out that swimsuit. I bet you were a cheerleader. Am I right?"

"Well, I was a cheerleader," Amber replied and thought of times she lead the boys cheer block in high school as Arron.

"I knew it! You seem the type. I was too in 1965. That is were I met Mr...."

"Randy. Did you bring the towels? What about the sunscreen? You know how I burn." The obnoxiously loud voice interrupted the lady.

Both Amber and Emily leaned backward and looked toward the voice. Through the fence, the two saw the overweight woman and her husband approach. Amber bit her lip and looked around desperately. Not thinking, she leaned forward, put her head onto Mrs. Haston's shoulder to hide from the pair.

"Dear, are you okay?"

"Emily, that woman was so mean to me today. I think she hates me or something. Don't let her see me."

"Alright dear, just hang on," Emily replied as she put her arms around Amber and patted her back.

She watched as the pair passed and took seats on the opposite side. "Amber, they've set down now."

"I've got to go. I'll talk to you later Emily," Amber said as she got up with her towel and left.

Going into the lobby, she stopped by the desk and had them forward her calls to her room, when she realized she had forgotten her bag. Damn it, she thought and turned to the door that led back to the pool. In the doorway stood Randy with her bag in his hand.

"The lady said you forgot this," he explained handing her the large canvas bag.
Amber stared up at him. His chest and abdomen muscles seemed to be carved from stone, hidden only by small fine hairs. His bright white teeth gave off light of their own. She was in awe.

"Are you okay?" the living Greek statue asked.

"Uh...yeah," she mumbled.

"I am sorry about Lisa. She thinks you look like my ex," he said apologetically. "You really are a knockout." He flashed his smile again.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Amber thought for a moment. "I didn't mean..."

"It's cool. See ya around." He turned and went back to the pool.

"Oh my god," Amber said as she stood there, the large canvas bag clutched to her chest.

"Tell me about it. Mmm-mmm", a housekeeper said and pushed her cleaning cart down the hall, head turned toward the man.

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A telephone message was waiting for Amber when she returned to the room. She called the number and spoke to the adjuster. She explained what happened and said she would fax the police report to him. He thanked her and asked if she was staying at the hotel a few more days. She said yes she had planned on it. He then told her he would be contacting her.

Sitting on the bed, she turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until she came to Jerry Springer. Two men were fighting over an overweight, trailer park girl, who didn't know which one was the father of her baby. Amber shook her head and continued to watch. The show was like a train wreck–you couldn't take your eyes from it. She nodded off and started dreaming of Randy.

When Amber awoke, she looked around sleepy eyed and noticed the clock. She had slept most of the late afternoon and it was well in to dusk. She stood up, stripped out of her bikini and with the aid of adhesive remover took off her faux breasts. She then stepped into the shower to begin preparing for the night.

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Comments

Mission Impossible?

Would love to see more of Amber's story.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine