VALENTINES AND GENDER MASKING

A MASKING EXPERIENCE STORY

BY: RITA CHANTE

AUTHOR’S NOTES: in this copyrighted, two part, novelette, Valentine’s Day is shown to be a holiday that is perceived as a wonderful time for the renewing of love or starting a romance, but when masking is involved and the maskers are also into gender bending, all bets are off. As is the style that has become this series of stories, real happenings and places are liberally mixed with fantasy. Special thanks needs to be given to Tanya who inspired a good portion of the writing in this novelette by dressing as and acting out the various female and cross-dressed roles that make up the fabric of the plot and sub plots.

PART ONE

Fantasies can be a real bitch, even when they come true. Or maybe I should say especially when they come true. There is always the unplanned or dreamed of element that gives the fantasy a life of its own as it births its way into reality. But before I get into that tale I need to state that I think that masks and the whole fantasy process of masking have always fascinated me, but when you add in the art of love making in an alter ego I become obsessed. In fact, I am into the idea of creating and being in a total disguise during an act of seduction and sex.

Until the last twelve to thirteen months, this was my ultimate masked fantasy. By masked fantasy I mean totally changing your race, culture, size, shape and gender. From what I have read on female masking, most writers believe that this type of masking is mostly a guy fantasy world, but I have never seen it that way, especially when trying to create a special treat for your lover on Valentine’s Day. For me, saying that female masking is the exclusive domain of males is just another one of those sexist assumptions that makes our culture so loaded with gender biases and Valentine’s Day is high up on that bias list as well.

Masking is fun and it is about time that women claim their rightful domain as the real queens of the female masking world. Just like so many other things in our modern culture, masking doesn’t have to be male oriented or transgender male to female just because men claim that they are better than women are when it comes to masking. Why should men reserve to themselves all the fun things in life like masking and dominate the themes of festivals like Valentine’s Day?

After all, who died and made men the lords of the earth and the kings of joy? Besides, aren’t many women the people in our modern society who mask their faces on a daily basis with a variety of liners, blushes, powders, pancakes, oils, brushes and lipsticks? Aren’t we the ones that are the masters at using Cupid’s slings and arrows? In case there is any doubt, I am here to tell men that women are the superior beings on this earthly plane and especially in the realm of cross-gender masking. After all is said and done, we are better endowed with more of the basic physical equipment.

Having said all that, I need to add that I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t have a desire to try on and wear masks. It seemed to me like a natural thing for a girl to do. And, when I say masks, I don’t mean just the simple hard plastic Halloween or Carnival face masks, but the elaborate whole head latex masks. I also have a thing for wearing rubber hoods and gasmasks. My beautiful lily white skinned Stepmother said that my fascination for masks and masking came out of the fact that I was always the tallest and ugliest girl in the neighborhood.

Of course, I have just enough self-esteem to reject the notion that I am ugly, but if I were being totally honest with myself, without a major make over and lots of make-up, I guess that I am kind of plain. As an adult I filled out a lot, but I am still taller and larger framed than the average woman at five-feet eleven-inches. Actually, I have come to treasure my well-chiseled frame and I have learned that tall and shapely can be a really valuable attribute, but I am jumping way ahead of myself in the telling of this masking experience story.

The members of my family have always told me that my father had adopted me, because I tower over my half-sisters and female cousins, but on the other hand, I look like a clone of my maternal grandmother. She was also dark skinned and tall like me. I remember going to her funeral with my Dad when I was ten years old. My Stepmother didn’t like me spending time with my Grandmother because she was always filling my head with stories about my biological mother and the dreams that she had for me.

From some old pictures that I found buried in the attic I discovered that my biological mother was tall too. Maybe if she had lived, my life and outlook would be different, but then those big “ifs” are always messing up our lives, goals and desires. For better or for worse, my Grandmother’s look and stories became even more important to me as I stumbled through my adolescent years.

None of my peers in school had anything good to say about my appearance. I guess that in farm country they would have called me a plow girl. Actually that was muted and genteel to some of the things I was called. I found that I enjoyed sports with the boys more than playing with girls and I got a lot of hazing for that. Even though I am considered large for my gender by most standards of beauty, I am very agile and well coordinated. The only advantage to all of this was that I was really good at sports and won a full-ride soccer scholarship to my local university.

None of my half-sisters went to college any longer than it took to hook husbands and my kid sisters were a couple of high school sluts. By the time that they reached their late teens my two half-brothers were taller than I was, but they had trouble finishing high school and went to work as laborers for my Dad’s construction business. My Dad was fond of saying that the two of them put together weren’t worth half of the price of one of his other workers.

It was while I was in college that both my gender confusion and my masking desires found roots and took off. The men never seemed to come onto me like you read about in those romance novels and as I became more educated, athletic and cultured, most men that I met seemed to be unworthy of my attention. They always seemed to be more interested in what my body could do for them than who I was. With great regularity, these patterns seemed to start with how much they wanted to be wrapped up in my long and powerful legs. Don’t get me wrong, I like men as long as they stay in their place, but as romantic partners they never really existed for me.

When I was in junior high I hated having to go to the school dances because the boy’s noses were just about high enough to be stuck between my ample tits. High school was also a social bust for me. It was a good thing that I had my sporting activities to provide me with a social life, albeit that it was always associated with team activities and limited by my part time job and household chores. All of these realities made any kind of romantic festival like Valentine’s Day a time of sadness and loneliness until I started combining them with my female masking games.

My Stepmother said that if wasn’t for my round hips and ample tits that I would have made a fairly ugly and muscular boy. She wasn’t timid about adding that I had the grace and movement of a bull in a china shop. But then she made racist and sexist remarks like those about most women of color. I didn’t know what she was really thinking because at the time, I believed that all of her children were half Spic too, as she often put it. At least she didn’t call me a drugged out whore like she claimed that my biological mother was.

On this topic my Stepmother said that my biological mother was pregnant by the time she was fifteen and that she and my Father had to get married. To hear my stepmother tell it, she had rescued my Father when her Dad had given him a job after my biological mother allegedly died of a drug overdose. I guess that my Dad was pretty smart because he had risen through the ranks of the business to successfully run my Step Grandfather’s large construction firm.

Other than a meal ticket and/or a career opportunity, as a teenager, I didn’t know what in all tar nation my father ever saw in that bitchy, but beautiful woman that he picked to be my Stepmother. I have to admit that she still has enough ambition, fortitude and balls to drive a herd of water starved cattle past an effervescent water hole on the hottest day of the year without stopping for any kind of drink. Very likely, when my father married my conniving Stepmother, like most “normal” men, he was thinking with his little head instead of his big one.

When the opportunity to leave home and go away to college happened for me, I jumped at the chance. As part of my college general education requirements I took a class in theatrical make-up. The courses’ female teacher was a fabulous artist and I found that I had a real creative eye and flare for sculpture. Professor Helena was the most beautiful woman that I had seen to that time. She was perfect in every way. She reminded me of a very pretty and feminine Julia Roberts. She was definitely way out of my class, but I wanted to be just like her.

However, other than my class work, Professor Helena never even seemed to notice me. In addition, the rest of the art world/scene seemed so plastic to me. Thus, with the exception of two sculpting classes, instead of taking more art classes and signing up for an art major, I continued in college with my major in physical education and a double minor in business and accounting.

Sculpting became a real hobby and by the time I was a senior in college and twenty-one, I had fifteen wonderful masks in my collection. There were Vampires, Devils, Witches, movie stars and celebrities. My only criterion for a mask to be part of my full head latex collection was that it had to be female. I even entered a couple of my heads into a college art exhibit hoping that Professor Helena would take some interest in my work, but while she told me that I had a real talent and imagination, nothing else came of that.

To my surprise, it was in my senior year that men finally seemed to notice the really feminine realities of my athletic body, but by then, male things and men in general, including masking with and for them, just didn’t turn me on. This is not to say that I didn’t go out on some dates with male jocks, but nothing ever developed from those efforts. During a couple of my very private masking sessions, I even toyed with the idea of playing a man with some of my masking talents, but I didn’t have any masks in my collection that I felt that I could wear as an alternate male identity on a regular basis.

I also toyed with the idea of crossing racial lines into the white world, but when I tried that idea I realized that would require torso/body suit development. So, I put that idea on hold as well. For the most part I was satisfied with keeping my mask collection in nondescript boxes in the back of the large storage closet in my room. I would take them out and play with them when I was alone. Not even my female roommates knew about my secret masking life accept for the fact they thought that Halloween was my favorite holiday. I never told them that Valentine’s Day was really my favorite holiday and that the idea of being a sexy female and/or male Cupid really turned me on. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to bring off this concept.

Then, late one night I was surfing around on the Internet after I had completed a major term paper for my final senior project, I stumbled straight to the realm of the unexpected. It was close to the end of my last semester in college as an undergraduate. I was so wound-up that I couldn’t sleep. The thought of graduating from college and going out into the real world of a career and work was unsettling to me. As usual I slid around through the masked websites and Yahoo Groups. Then one of the link pages I found mask maker who claimed that she could make any female concept into a high quality, custom fit latex mask. The phone number attached to the Website turned out to be local so I called the next day.

“Rubber Realities,” purred a strictly feminine voice. “Dizzy, speaking. Your fantasy is our reality.” How can we service you?”

I was so glad that I was speaking to a woman. As I mentioned before, the female mask-making world is so cluttered with men. “Yes, Dizzy. I found your Website last night on the Internet and wanted to know what your prices were?"

“We don’t post a price list on the web because the price of our work all depends upon what you want, Miss. May have your real name for our records?”

“I want you to make me a Caucasian female torso and head for a Valentines Day prank.”

“Could I have your real name first?” asked Dizzy.

“Sure thing. I’m sorry. My name is Desiree Cabrillo.”

“Okay, Miss. Cabrillo. I don’t think that we have made a unit specifically aimed at Valentine’s Day, but we have made dozens of specialized torso and mask units for many other settings. Occasionally the client has used them to cross gender and racial lines. What would you like to look like or do you even have a specific image in mind?” probed Dizzy.

“Could you turn me into an incredibly sexy and voluptuous redheaded Geena Davis or Julia Roberts type for Valentine’s Day?”

“That is interesting. At first, I thought that you wanted us to turn you into Cupid,” declared Dizzy. “Valentines can be such a romantic time.”

“I hadn’t thought about that as an idea. Romance wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I guess that could be an option as well.”

“If we make Julia or Geena for you, do you want to be an exact replica of Geena Davis or Julia Roberts or something that could pass for Geena Davis or Julia Robert’s stunt double as part of this Valentine’s Day prank?” inquired Dizzy.

“I think that the ‘something like’ Geena is more what I am looking for. I have always considered Geena Davis and Julia Roberts beautiful women and I would just die to look like I was related to either one or both of them.”

“I hear you loud and clear, Miss Cabrillo. That is a smart way to approach this, Miss. How tall are you?” asked Dizzy.

“I am five feet eleven and a half inches tall.”

“Then that shouldn’t be any problem at all since Geena Davis and Julia Roberts are both tall women. Are you a Trannie or a real girl?” probed Dizzy.

“I am all girl from the point of conception in my mother’s womb. Why, is that a problem?”

“Not at all. In fact, that reality will make our job a lot easier,” stated Dizzy. “It is just that often being all girl and/or woman is more of a state of mind than a physical reality in the world of masks and masking. I have known a lot of genetic females who aren’t women in mind or attitude and I have also met a like number of genetic males who really are women in their heads.”

I answered this interesting and unusual explanation by saying, “That is fascinating, but I can assure you that the last time I checked, I was both mentally and physically a female.”

“That is all that I needed to hear, Miss Cabrillo,” stated Dizzy. “We have made several Geena Davis and Julia Roberts units for their stunt doubles. We may even have a couple of the basic stunt double units left in the storage area. What specific features would you like us to assign to this Geena Davis and/or Julia Roberts torso and mask?”

"Creamy skin, sparkling blue eyes, long, auburn hair and…”

“Do you want the hair to be, like, Big Hair? Teased up? Bouffant? Both Julia Roberts and Geena Davis wear a whole variety of hair styles.”

“I like them best in long curly locks like the ones that Geena Davis wore for her role in Cut Throat Island. Is that doable?”

“That is no problem either. What else would you like?” probed Dizzy.

“Full dark red lips, tubes in the nose that will go up into the nostrils, mouth that moves with my mouth, and it must also have matching hands with long dark red fingernails.”

“It sounds to me like you know quite a bit about mask making,” declared Dizzy.

“I took a couple of sculpting classes in college and I have a well hidden, but extensive collection of female masks. My collection, including the masks that I have poured, is mostly of the slush latex variety. I don’t particularly like the feel of the foam latex creations.

“That is interesting. It is nice to work with someone that knows the difference between foam and slush latex. All of our stuff uses slush latex,” declared Dizzy.

“As much as I like the female masks in my hidden collection, none of them appear to have the quality of Rubber Realities’ work.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Desiree. Our facilities are out in the open and are probably a lot more extensive than the portable one that can be taken down and hidden away. How large do you want Miss Davis’ tits to be?” inquired Dizzy.

“Pardon me?”

“Well you said voluptuous and that means different things to different people,” explained Dizzy.

“Right. I want them to be really large and soft. Would that be out of character?”

“Are you large and soft?” probed Dizzy.

“No one has ever complained, but then I never have thought that my chest was one of my best attributes.”

“Well we get many female clients that use our prosthetic breasts as a kind of trial run to see if they want to have their tits surgically altered. Would you like to be larger than you currently are?” asked Dizzy.

“My image of the perfect woman has tits that are larger than mine so I think I will still go with the large and soft image.”

“Good choice, Desiree. Do you want just gloves or do you want us to make arms that are part of this Julia Roberts and/or Geena Davis mask and torso?”

“What would look better, Dizzy?”

“Arms that are attached to the torso will look more natural, but are harder to move in. However, after a little effort and practice most of our customers seem to prefer the attached units,” declared Dizzy. “If you are changing your body’s skin color then you will need to attach the arms and consider some leg and feet units as well.”

“Then make the arms part of the torso. I will give the leg units some thought. I could always wear opaque stockings.”

“All right! You sound like a client who knows what she wants! Is this mask/torso unit for you or a sexual partner?” inquired Dizzy.

“It is for me at the moment, but I am hoping to have you make a second one for a partner if everything works out for me on Valentine’s Day.”

“Excellent. Our prices per suit and mask are better when we are making more than one,” stated Dizzy. “How thick do you want the latex to be?”

“I want it to look real.”

“I know that, but real as in doll like or real as in second skin. The last mode is almost undetectable once you are dressed and have your make-up on,” stated Dizzy. “Some of our clients claim to spend hours at a time in them at parties and other activities. Of course that type unit is also a little more fragile and expensive.”

“I have several masks that already give me the ‘Doll’ look, so I guess I want the second configuration.”

“Then we will need to schedule an appointment for the casting of your chest and arms and to take measurements of your head. I will make an effort to wear one of our living mask and body units when you arrive. When can you come in?"

“I guess I could come in today after my classes if you aren't too busy.”

“Can you be more specific with a time, Miss Cabrillo?”

“How about one-thirty?”

“That would be fine. Do you know where we are located?”

“I pulled up the directions on Map Quest,” said Desiree

“Great. Then the image of a Miss Penelope Cruz look-a-like will be waiting to assist you with your masked Valentine fantasy at one-thirty this afternoon. If you want, we can get started today. The cost per suit on a two-suit deal will be $1,000.00. We'll need 50% down to get started, cash only and the rest when the masks and torsos are complete. If you decide on the leg and foot units the cost will be $250.00 extra. Is that okay?”

“I hope so. I will have to check on my finances, Dizzy.”

“Will you need some extra time to do that?” probed Dizzy.

“That would be a good idea,” responded Miss Cabrillo.

“Then we will push our appointment back to two o’clock so that you can go to the bank,” declared Dizzy.

“Can I pay my total bill today? I don’t like having fiscal obligations hanging over my head,” admitted Desiree Cabrillo.

“That would be terrific, Miss. Cabrillo. Miss Cruz will be all fired up and ready to assist you at two,” declared Dizzy.

I could barely keep my mind on my class work and getting to the bank seemed to take forever. My mother had seen to it that I had a large college trust fund before she had died. My Stepmother’s take on this was that it was dirty drug and slut money that should have gone to serving her children’s needs. I guess my mother really did have some hopes and dreams for me like my Grandmother had told me, but my father never shared those notions with me. I had been very careful with those funds and shopped around for as many bargains as I could find. I even called the accounts my car fund because when I graduated I planned to buy a car with whatever was left of my trust fund after I paid off all of my college debts.

My roommates in college said that I had the stereotype “Cinderella” personality and profile. I guess I was the family laughing stock even though I was the only girl in my family to finish college. And then, Prince Charming had never charmed his way into my life. As I stood in that long line at the bank, I wondered if Cinderella was a closet lesbian too? That bank line almost stretched into eternity. It seemed like I had picked the day when every little old lady for a hundred miles had come in with their penny banks, but I finally got my money and drove over to Rubber Realities by two p.m.

The shop was located in a windowless and secured industrial complex known for small computer R and D firms. The place certainly had a low profile. The sign on the door made the place look like it made rubber insulators for computer hardware. I parked my old motor scooter and went in. A lovely and courteous female resembling Miss Penelope Cruz was sitting at the reception desk as promised. If this were a prototype and/or quality of the masks and torsos like the one that I wanted to order, then I would definitely have to scrape up the money for another one.

Pictures and portraits of satisfied customers wearing their incredible masks and suits hung on the wall behind the reception desk. I wished that some of the photographs had shown before and after shots so that I could have seen just how much of a transformation was created by the Rubber Reality suits and masks. To be honest, most of the photos looked so real that the small entry office of Rubber Realities looked more like a movie agent’s gallery of famous stars.

“Miss Cruz” was on the phone and waived a big “hello” to me and pointed to a seat as she said, “We still have about thirty gallons of untinted latex. That should see us through the end of the week, but I will need another order by next Tuesday for that new action thriller starring Sigorney Weaver. That reminds me, can you include ten pairs of yellow cougar eyes in that order? I will also need two pairs of red, two pairs of brown, and two pairs of green. I think I'm okay on everything else. Send it priority UPS. I like the guy that does their deliveries to this building.”

As she hung up her phone, I said, “You look fabulous, Miss Cruz. That business suit that you are wearing is so tastefully done.”

“Thanks for those flattering words, but I always get that reaction when I wear this mask, torso and costume. The men go bonkers for it. They can be such disgusting pigs at times, but then they pay out the big money that keeps this business a going concern. You must be Desiree Cabrillo. Call me Dizzy. Every one does. So you want a complete Geena Davis/Julia Roberts mask and torso?”

“Yes, I most certainly do.”

“Have you decided to add the legs as well, Desiree?”

“Do you think that I need them?”

“If you want to be a Geena Davis/Julia Roberts look-a-like you need to be all the same color. While you could wear stockings or panty hose to cover your legs, that wouldn’t work if you wanted to appear as a ‘Geena’ or ‘Julia’ type on the beach in a swim suit.”

“I get your point. You are a good sales person. Okay, Dizzy, put me down for a complete ‘Geena/Julia’ mask and torso/body suit.

“You won’t regret that choice. You definitely have the basic build for that look. Do you have the money?” asked Dizzy.

I reached into my purse and said, “Yes, right here. It is still in the envelope that the teller put it in, but I didn’t count on the leg attachments."

The image of Penelope Cruz counted out the ten one hundred-dollar bills from the bank envelope. “Is this full payment for one unit or a sixty- percent payment for two units?”

“If the masks and suits are of the quality like the one that you have on, Dizzy, then it is a sixty percent payment for two, minus the five hundred dollars for the legs.”

“Then your balance current balance will be thirteen-hundred dollars,” said Dizzy as she began to fill out Rubber Realities’ order form.

“Can my double order be of two different actresses?”

“As long as the bodies are close in design and we have an existing mold for the face of the mask, that won’t be a problem,” declared Dizzy.

“Would a Julia Roberts look alike fit that bill, Dizzy?”

“That would have been my choice, Miss Cabrillo.”

“Great! Then I will take a ‘Julia Roberts’ look alike in the body we specified over the phone along with my ‘Geena Davis’ order. I guess I will be riding my motor scooter for a while longer.”

“What does that mean?” probed Dizzy thru her “Penelope Cruz” mask and torso.

“I am a student and I am spending part of my car fund on these masks and torsos.”

“We all have to set our priorities. I will see if I can get you a student discount. After all since you are a genetic female, the torsos will be a lot easier to make and we have some basic stunt double units of Miss Roberts and Miss Davis in storage,” said Dizzy.

“How much of a discount are we talking about, Dizzy?”

“Does four hundred dollars sound fair to you?” asked Dizzy’s “Penelope Cruz” image. “That would cut your balance back to eleven-hundred dollars.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Of course I guess we should also give you a female discount of one hundred dollars which would reduce your balance to an even eight-hundred dollars,” added Dizzy.

“That would be even better, Dizzy.”

“Well then. Let's get rolling', Desiree. Go into the back and remove your shirt, watch and rings while I take this ‘Penelope Cruz’ mask, costume and torso off. I will call Misty to take over the front while I am working with you. After you get your clothes off and stored in a secured container, come over to this dentists' chair and we'll get your measurements.” Dizzy looked like a strung out young kid when she stepped out of her business suited ‘Penelope Cruz’ look and went to look for Misty. I wondered if the pale look to her skin was caused by excessive use of her “Penelope Cruz” Mask and torso.

The transformation of “Penelope” into Dizzy was absolutely amazing. If I had not seen her do it, I would have thought that they were two different people. By the time I had changed out of my stuff and had a drape over me, Dizzy changed into some lose fitting coveralls. Misty came out of the recesses of Rubber Realities to host the front of the showroom. She was dressed in the image of a young “Sophia Loren”. Once Dizzy had made sure that Misty was settled in, she started to take numerous measurements of my head, neck and chest.

“Misty looks fabulous in that outfit, Dizzy. She is every bit as convincing as ‘Sophia Loren’ as you were as ‘Penelope Cruz’. Does Misty do ‘Sophia’ all of the time?”

“The ‘Sophia’ look is what our next client is requesting. ‘Cher’ and ‘Sophia’ look-a-likes are our most requested models and Misty does almost all of them. Can you believe that Misty is really a straight guy under that get up?”

“You are kidding of course.”

“Not at all,” said Dizzy while she continued to use her tape to get my measurements.

“You certainly had me fooled.”

“That is good to hear, because that is what most male to female maskers want to do and Misty shows them how to do it. That is also why we charge men a lot more for our service,” said Dizzy. “Of course they don’t know that and I trust that you will keep our little secret.”

“You got my word on that, Dizzy.”

As Dizzy motioned me over to a tall, backless barstool she said, “Misty is the only guy that we let work here, but then he is so sweet and petite that he is almost one of the girls anyway. His wife works as our accountant and keeps him on a pretty short leash. Okay, this stool is where we will make the cast of your chest, arms and hands. You will be here for at least fifty to sixty minutes, so get as comfortable as possible. After that, I will do your lower half. This can be boring and tedious for the customer so I could play you a video of Pretty Woman or Cut Throat Island to distract you while we do this if you wish.”

“I think I would like to see Cut Throat Island again. Geena Davis is so athletic and such a control freak in that picture and I just love seeing those characteristics in a woman. To be honest, I think that kind of woman is really a romantic figure.”

“So do I, Miss Cabrillo. You are definitely my kind of female.” With that remark, Dizzy slipped Cut Throat Island into the DVD player and the large flat screen on the wall of the shop came to life. “The first thing that we will need to do in the creation of your total body and head mold is to remove all of your body hair. Are you okay with that?”

“I thought that you would have to do that so I shaved my underarms before I went to bed last night.”

“That is good, but I am sure that you have some other body hair so lets make sure that it is all gone. We all have some very fine hair on our torsos that we don’t even think of as hair. If the slightest amount of that fuzz becomes frozen it the mold, removing it will be a painful process and unless you are a pain freak, I am sure that you will want to avoid that experience.”

“You got that right, so what do you want me to do, Dizzy?”

“Just sit on the stool while I cover you in depilatory creams. Since you are already relatively hairless, one application should do the job. This will take about twenty minutes. Then I will wipe you clean while you watch your movie.” While the cream was doing its work, Dizzy went into another room and returned with a bucket of yellow gel-like goo and opened the top. “We will make the mold out of fiberglass. It is very important that you don't move after I start,” she said as she had me pull a rubber swim cap over my long black hair.

After Dizzy removed what was left of my body hair, she sprayed WD-40 on my chest, back, neck, head, arms and hands. I never liked the smell of this chemical very much. It always reminded me of the fact that my sexist high school counselor wouldn’t let me take auto shop because she said that it was a boy’s class. I hate it when women in positions of power reinforce male bragging rights and attitudes. I don’t know why women do that to other women unless they are just seeking approval of their male overlords.

“The WD-40 will prevent the gel from adhering to your skin and the skull cap,” explained Dizzy. Then, as she gently applied the yellow gel-like goo with her neoprene-covered hands, Dizzy added, “After the gel sets up I'll cut it off so don't freak out. I've done this hundreds of times and I haven't killed anybody yet.” I found the yet part of her last comment a bit disconcerting, but then she seemed to know what she was doing. I was so glad that a woman was doing this. Even though she fondled my private parts while applying the depilatory creams and the casting gels, I let myself believed that she was doing it for professional reasons and not personal ones.

The fiberglass gel was cool when Dizzy first put it on and then it got warmer the longer that it stayed on. I asked her about this and Dizzy said, “That's normal, Desiree. When the fiberglass starts to cool down, we will know that it has cured, which means that it will have achieved the proper hardness.”

I had been perched on my stool for about an hour and a half when Dizzy came over and tapped the fiberglass. She placed her hands on different areas and said, “Good. It's all set-up.”

Once again Dizzy disappeared into another room. When she returned to my side, she was holding a battery powered dremal tool containing a very small, high speed saw bit. Like an experienced sculptress Dizzy carefully and gently cut the mold loose. It was wonderful to be free to move around again. My arm and body muscles were tired from the exertion needed to hold myself rigid while the fiberglass cured.

"See Desiree! I got that mold off of you without a scratch!”

“You definitely are good at this, Dizzy. I hope your employers appreciate your skills as much as I do.”

“Well, on that matter, I am really my own boss. I pay a percentage of my earnings to the artist’s cooperative that manages this facility. I will be purchasing the latex cores that I will be modifying into your suits, but how much work and what kind of work that I do is really left up to me,” declared Dizzy after she handed me a sheet to cover my naked and hairless torso.

The video of Cut Throat Island just finished when somewhere behind me a sonorous feminine voice called out, “Hello! It is lunchtime, Dizzy. I know that if I don’t feed you that you will forget to eat. You are so into your living art.” Then turning towards me this lovely woman added, “Hi. I'm Marie. I am one third of Rubber Realities, and Dizzy’s other half. You must be Desiree.”

“You got that right.”

“You are everything that Dizzy thought that you be. Nice to meet you, Desiree!” Marie was tall, trim, attractive woman about 50 with long white hair and a warm smile. She had a Diane Keaton look to her and I wondered if this was how she really looked or if she was wearing one of Rubber Realities’ products. She was all dressed in white leather, had pale green eyes and wore pentagram earrings.

“As usual, you have perfect timing, babe!” said Dizzy as she turned to look directly at her lover. “Did you get everything on your list?”

“Have I ever left a job half done, Diz?”

“I seem to recall something that happened last night…”

“Don’t go there, Dizzy. You are in for a double treat tonight,” proclaimed Marie. “I’m just priming you for Valentines Day. I can’t let you peek too soon.”

“Like that has never happened,” said Dizzy. “Desiree has us creating some sexy torsos and masks for an alleged Valentine prank.”

“That’s different. Most of the time we get calls like that for Halloween or Christmas. Can you tell us any of the details involved in this prank so I will know what type of make-up to use?” probed Marie.

“I haven’t worked out the details yet, Marie.” Actually I didn’t have any plans at all, yet, but I didn’t want to tell Marie and Dizzy that. Dizzy was now involved in the process of encasing my lower half in more of the fiberglass goo. I guess she wanted to do this before we began to eat out lunch. As we ate that wonderful lunch and talked about my “double project”, Dizzy explained that she and Marie had been together for almost five years.

They had met at a lesbian club and had been inseparable ever since. Marie had started the Rubber Reality Company 17 years ago with her former husband. He had started the business out as a custom wet suit company to serve the large and fanatic surfing community in the area. The company still made custom wet suits as a summer income, but the rest of the year had been taken over by the costume and masking side of the business.

Because of the stunt double contracts with several of the major studios, the masking and body suit business was a definite part of the all year round income of the company. They both told me how, Halloween was the busiest time of the year for the company and they shared some of what they considered their weirdest requests. Marie told me that she had trained Dizzy on all the ins and outs of the wet suit business when they teamed up. It had been Dizzy who hit on the idea of making fetish latex gear.

“Teaming up with Dizzy was simple, Desiree. I needed help to keep my business afloat and Dizzy needed a job,” declared Marie. “Besides Misty, there are four other artists that have joined us in this cooperative venture, but none of them work full-time all year long. June to November is our busiest season.”

As the luncheon conversation continued and my leg forms began to set up, the discussion shifted to what I wanted in the way my “Julia Roberts” and “Geena Davis” look-a-like masks. Dizzy said that Marie would make the mask form from clay, and then have Dizzy make a mold from the clay bust. Once the mold was polished and trimmed they would make the basic latex structure from the form. They would then merge this basic mask to the material shaped upon the second clay bust that was to be pressed using the form that Dizzy had made of me.

This process would be refined by the measurements that Dizzy had taken earlier. The completed double-sided mold would then be filled with liquid latex. Next, the mold was then to be slowly rotated and after about 10 minutes it would be placed outside to cure upside down. When the 'plug', as they called it, had cured, it was removed from the double-sided mold and the excess latex was trimmed away with a hot, sharp knife. Marie would then take the plug over to a table and cuts the holes for the eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Next, she worked on creating the nostril tubes, the ear tubes and the mouth flange.

After that process was completed Marie painted and shaded the plug using an airbrush. The last steps involved the installation of the eyes and attaching the fingernails. The same basic process was used to make the limbs and the torso. Dizzy concluded her explanation by saying, “Many times we put hair on the units, but I have a feeling that you will be trying out several wigs besides the big hair wigs that we will supply. So we will just apply Velcro strips to the heads of your units.”

“That is a great idea, Dizzy. How do all of the component parts go together?”

“I will weld the mask to the torsos with silk fibers and several layers of liquid latex. That's about it, Desiree. Any other questions?”

"Yes. When will my order be ready?"

“Let’s see, today is Monday. With our current production schedule and any luck we'll have it done by midday Friday. Call us on Thursday at noon to confirm,” said Marie.

After some more small talk Dizzy cut and removed the leg molds from my lower half. With that, I went into one of the dressing rooms and put on my clothes. This had been an amazing experience and my clothes felt really strange on my totally hairless body. I thanked Dizzy and Marie for lunch and took off to go to the library in order to study for a test that I was taking the following day.

I spent the rest of the week at school and my part time work, while occasionally thinking about the mask and body suit that Dizzy and Marie were making for me. I wondered what it would fit & feel like. I called Rubber Realities on Thursday to see if Dizzy and Marie were on schedule with my suits and masks.

“Hello, Rubber Realities. You dream them and we will create them. This is Dizzy. How can I help you?”

“Hello, Dizzy. This is Desiree Cabrillo.”

“Hello Desiree! I have some good news and some bad news! Which one do you want to hear first?”

“I’ll take the good news first, Dizzy.”

“Okay, the good news is that we are right on schedule and you can come and pick up one of your masks torsos and legs tomorrow after one o’clock.”

“Really?”

“Yes! I would not kid you about something like that,” announced Dizzy. “We rushed the process as much as we could to give you lead time to practice working in them before you employ them in that alleged Valentine’s Day prank that I still want to hear about.”

“What is the bad news, Diz?”

“Well the Julia Roberts didn’t come out as good as I wanted to make it, but then again, maybe you will like the results.”

“Was there a problem with the molds of the texture of the latex?” asked Desiree.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that happened,” assured Dizzy.

“Then, what is the problem?” I was imagining all sorts of weird looking results.

“I don’t know if you will like the base color of the latex, Desiree.”

“Did it come out all weird or marbled?”

“I guess you would have to be the judge of that. To my eye, the latex has what I would call a light tan. I think the effect is exotic and beautiful, but Marie isn’t sure that this look is what you wanted.”

“Well, I guess I just better hop onto my scooter tomorrow and drive over to see what you got. This news actually has me tingling all over.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because if you were to ask me, I think these two units are some of my best work,” declared Dizzy.

“I have some stuff to finish here tomorrow morning and I have to go to the bank to get the balance of the money to pay your bill. It will probably be around noon before I can get over to your place.”

“You don’t need to be here until one o’clock, Desiree. I have another fitting at eleven tomorrow.”

“Okay, then I will see you at one o’clock.”

“Great. Marie will have everything assembled by then.”

The following morning I left the university office where I worked part time as a reader at about 11:30 and drove to the bank to get the payment balance. Then I stopped at a Chinese takeout place and got lunch. I pulled up in front of Rubber Realities at 12:45 and walked in the front door. “Lunch ladies! I remembered what Marie said about you taking time to eat, Dizzy.”

“You are an angel, Desiree! Your two units are done. Dizzy thinks that they are spectacular. I am worried about the basic color of the Julia unit. Do you want to have a peek while Dizzy finishes up with her eleven o’clock appointment?” teased Marie.

“You bet I do! Here is the money for the balance of what I owe you, Marie.”

“Give it to Dizzy after you see your units,” said Marie. After I put the money back in my backpack and Marie placed the food in their microwave oven, she walked with me to the back where Dizzy had just finished with her eleven o’clock appointment and was starting to test the zipper on one of my units.

“Hey, Desiree, these units look just great if I do say so myself.” She turned the masks/torsos of the well tanned “Julia” and “Geena”. They were just perfect! Marie and Dizzy had created a reality that went way beyond my most passionate dreams or any of their claims on their Website. The suits were obviously tall, full-bodied white women even in their limp state. The light tan color of the latex that Dizzy and Marie seemed so worried about was still several shades whiter than the lightest parts of my skin color and many more shades lighter than those areas where I had a very dark “tan”.

As I stood in giddy shock and amazement Marie said, “Miss Cabrillo brought us lunch, Diz. I have it heating up in the microwave.”

“Unless you are starving, Marie, I think that can wait a few minutes. Look at Desiree’s face. Is that the picture that says, ‘color me happy’ or what?”

“Do you want to try on one of your units or eat first, Desiree? KIDDING!” announced Marie.

Without saying a word, I ran into the dressing room and removed my clothes and jewelry. Dizzy handed me some talcum powder and I shook some on my legs, arms, feet hands and chest while Marie helped the eleven o’clock appointment in the other dressing room and Misty took over the front desk duties. Dizzy unzipped the body suit and I put my legs in. Then I pushed my hands and arms into their appendages. That took a bit of work but finally they were in. I didn’t even think to ask which one I was putting on.

“Okay, Miss Cabrillo. I need you to shrug your shoulders and bend your head forward. I'll slip the mask over your head, position it and zip it up.” I stuck my head into the mask. It was dark and tight but finally it popped on. Dizzy helped me to position the mouth-flange, the nostril-tubes, the ear tubes and the eyes into place. “Is that okay, Miss Cabrillo?” I nodded yes. “Speak to me, Desiree! Say something.”

“Everything fits a bit tight and the eyes have no peripheral vision so I can only see out through the pupils. Otherwise it's fine. The breasts are incredible. And the hands and feet look and feel amazing!”

"Good, Desiree,” said Marie when she joined us. “That is the way your suit and mask should feel at first. As it warms to you it will expand to its working size. Now we're going to zip you in.” They pulled the back pieces together and ZZZZZZzzzzip! I was in. The lip flange made my mouth feel really full at first but the lips moved with mine as if they were glued onto my skin. “There's a mirror to your left. Take a look.” I smiled, frowned and opened my mouth wide. The mask responded to my every move. It was as if I had left the room and a naked, well-tanned “Geena Davis” look-a-like had taken my place.

“Well?” quizzed Dizzy.

“It's fantastic! I love it! You did an incredible job!” I said as I danced and clapped my gloved hands for the pure joy of it.

“I'm so happy for you. Let's get you out of this and eat the lunch that you brought us,” said Marie while reaching up for the zipper to my well tanned Geena Davis look-a-like torso/body suit and mask.

“Wait, Marie. Would you mind if I kept it on and put my own clothes on over it?"

“Well, no, Desiree. Do you want to try to eat in it?” asked Dizzy.

“Sure! Why not?”

“You've got really big boobies now, Desiree! I doubt that your blouse will fit. We took the liberty of getting you/her a bra and tailored black leather sheath. I'll help you because with those long finger nails you'll never manage.” Marie helped me into a black push up satin bra with lace trim, then into a black leather pullover sheathe with long sleeves and a cowl neck. "There. Take a look now."

The sheath hobbled my walk a bit but I loved the look. I saw a beautiful and shapely “Geena Davis type” that was looking back at me in the mirror. I never looked this good in my clothes. Dizzy was right. None of my blouses or dresses would fit me while I had this torso on. We ate lunch. It was a bit different with the lip flanges and the long red fingernails but with a little effort I managed. In fact as the lunch wore on, I began to feel almost natural in my latex and leather look. After lunch, while Dizzy helped me get out of the dress, the bra and the “Geena” mask, torso and body suit she said, “You had better try on the ‘Julia’ mask and torso to make sure that it works out as well as the ‘Geena’ unit.”

“We made this to help you get the zipper fastened when you go to put it on later,” said Marie as she handed me a long rod with a hook on the end.

“Put the hook in the zipper and pull down. If it's a bit sticky just put some WD40 on a cloth and rub it on the zipper. Always check and be sure the zipper teeth are clear before you put it on, Okay? If the zipper jambs while you have the suit and mask on, you may not be able to take it off without coming back here.” I put on the “Julia” unit and it was every bit as glamorous and good feeling as the “Geena” unit had been. The chest on this unit wasn’t as large as the one on the “Geena” unit. I felt like another person even though my clothes fit this unit in a very snug fashion. I had arrived as one person and I was going to leave the shop as three people.

“Can I wear this unit home?” I asked.

“You will have to be very careful if you do that, Desiree,” declared Dizzy. “We don’t recommend operating complicated or complex machinery when you are encased in your mask and body suit. You haven’t totally adjusted to the vision provided by your new image. Your senses of touch, hearing and smell have also been altered. You will learn to compensate to some extent for these alterations with practice.”

“I hear you and I promise to be careful, but I just don’t want to take ‘her’ off right now and I have some errands that I have to run.”

“Well you have to do what you have to do, but you have been warned,” declared Marie. “Maybe you are just one of those lucky people that were born to mask and instinctually compensate for the alterations to your senses provided by the mask and body suit.”

“I think that might be the case, Marie,” I replied with new confidence. Dizzy loaded my black leather sheath and “Geena Davis” unit into a box and walked with me to my scooter. I strapped the box onto my utility rack and thanked Dizzy once again.

Driving along on my scooter as a young and carefree Julia Roberts was a total blast. As my vision adjusted to the lenses in my mask I became more and more secure about my driving. Normally I wear my helmet and scoot along unnoticed. Not this time. I let my long auburn locks fly in the wind. I was a one-woman parade. Men rolled down their windows and craned their necks to see me pass by. They cheered and whistled like I had just scored a game-winning goal against one of our university’s rival teams.

It felt incredibly strange to be noticed by men. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. I found myself wondering if they liked me because I now appeared to be a white woman or if it was just the beauty of my disguise that was turning them on. I also wondered if my new image would have the same affect on some of my female roommates. Oh my God. What will my roommates say if they see me in this get-up?

On the way home I stopped and picked up some large gold hoop earrings, a short red leather skirt, a fitted and collarless red leather blazer, red panties and bra, red pantyhose and a pair of red patent 5" Stiletto pumps. The female clerks in the store just kept staring at me. One almost ate me alive with her piercing eyes. I have to admit that I loved that, although I don’t know if she wanted me or was just jealous of my great appearance. I was treated with a courtesy that made me wonder if this was because I looked like Julia Roberts or if this was the way that all pretty white women were treated.

By now I was hoping against all hope that my roommates wouldn’t be home. I couldn’t wait to try on my all red Cupid costume over my Julia Roberts body suit and mask. My roommates generally weren’t home at this time of day, but our place was kind of a Grand Central Station with girls popping in and out of it all of the time. If I could just get to my room unseen, then I would be all right. I really wasn’t ready for a masked “outing” at this point.

Luck was with me and no one was home, so after I was safely behind the locked door of my room I started to undress and redress my “Julia Roberts” image. I put on the panties, the pantyhose, and the skirt and tried on the Stilettos. They fit great. I straightened the long auburn hair in the back. I picked up the bra and fastened it. I turned it around and maneuvered it into position. I slipped the red satin blouse on and walked over to the mirror. Something was missing. I saw the gold earrings and the necklace and put them on too along with the fitted red leather blazer.

I looked again at my masked reflection and saw I needed something more. I went to my closet and got out a red Victorian corset with purple trim that I had bought at an estate sale. It was very old but it looked fantastic. I had forgotten completely about it until now. I took off the red leather blazer, the satin top and the bra and slipped into the corset. I placed my heavy latex tits into the cups and I pulled the laces tight . . . then tighter . . . then even TIGHTER! My waist was now very small making my large boobs look even bigger. The corset had laces above where the legs joined so I tightened them also.

The tight corset made me walk with a distinct sway and limited my breathing to some degree. I began to feel a little dizzy from the restriction of my diaphragm and the exertion of tightening the corset. I quickly learned to take a lot of small breaths to increase my oxygen intake. I steadied myself by putting my hand on the back of my computer chair and I pulled my long, tight bright red leather skirt up and over the bottom my corset. There was one sexy Julia Roberts look-a-like standing in my room. “Eat your heart out Cupid”.

I decided to study for my kinetics final while I was encased in my “Julia” image just to see how long I could function inside of this new spectacular look. I still hadn’t figured out what I was going to do for Valentine’s Day, but I wanted to be ready for whatever masked Cupid caper came along. I really didn’t like my kinetics class, but it was one of those hurdles that one had to jump over to complete a major in physical education. As I moved around to model some of the kinetic principles being set forth in my notes, I realized that I was really tall in my disguise and stiletto heels. I guessed that I could have passed for a man wearing a female mask and body suit. That might be an interesting game for a Valentine’s Day prank. I wondered if I could pull it off.

I really didn’t know enough about the male psyche to imitate one beyond the normal effeminate stereotypes. Dizzy’s statement about gender being a state of mind played over and over through my well-masked mind. Was I really a man in a girl’s body like my awful Stepmother had postulated during my adolescent years? Was this why I was so fascinated by female masking? These thoughts plus the encased sensation made my time inside of my fantasy come true, just seemed to fly by even though I was reviewing my boring class notes.

On the other hand, being inside of my “Julia” mask and body suit made me feel so pretty and sexy. I knew that I was going to be wearing “her” a lot once I got a job and a place of my own. I wondered if the increase in usage of my two masks and body suits would make me paler and more effeminate like it seemed to have done to Dizzy.

It was at that point in time that I caught myself trying to finger my private parts thru my beautiful red leather skirt with my well-gloved hands. I definitely was going to have to do a “Geena Davis” session before I went to bed that night. This desire to play with my masked image was a new reality for me. I had never felt this need with the masks that I had made. I didn’t know where this knowledge or urge came from, but I was relishing in it. I rationalized that it had to be the beautiful and erotic addition of Rubber Realities’ creations that were driving me to masturbate.

I almost wished that my beautiful yet evil Stepmother could see me now. I would have loved to shock her with my newfound sexuality and gender bending thoughts. I knew that I could threaten every value and perverted idea of morality that she had. The sense of empowerment that I got from that realization made the purchase of my masks and body suits worth every penny. It was like they had liberated me from the narrow minded, buttoned up and closeted world that my Stepmother had tried to force me into. If I wanted to, I could step out of that closet and there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it.

In the past, when I had gone out on a coed date, I had been more of a hug, kiss and cuddle lover. Of course my wicked Stepmother didn’t know that either. Then again, I didn’t want to share my new triumph and masked sexual awareness with her unless I could figure out a way to use it against her. Why should she be allowed to participate in my happiness and quest for self-discovery? She had never contributed to either of those two realities when I was growing up in her household and it was about time that someone held her accountable for her sick and perverted ideas about child rearing. There had to be some way that I could use my newfound world to get my Father out from under her clutches and my half brothers and sisters away from my Stepmother’s mind warping ways.

I so wanted to step out into the front room of my apartment to let the other women see my new image when my roommates arrived to start preparing for our evening meal, but I was afraid that they wouldn’t understand what I was all about. How could I explain to my square headed roommates the marvelous all over tingling sensation that wearing my wonderful “Julia” body suit and mask gave to me, let alone what masking meant for me? So after another glorious and sensuous half-hour as this very sexy “Julia” I reluctantly took off all of my red leather clothing, the wonderful Victorian corset and my latex gear. I also decided to put any plans and fantasies about using my latex gear to put my Stepmother into her place back into their mental box until the right opportunity presented itself.

I carefully dried and powdered the inside of the latex items and put them in the box with the “Geena Davis” mask and body suit. I hung up my leatherwear and located the heavily boned corset in its new place in my bottom drawer. I contemplated investing in a couple of practice/training corsets to winnow my waist. Once all my sexy fantasy gear was safely hidden in the back of my closet I dressed into my normal drab, but extremely comfortable sweat clothes, quietly unlocked my bedroom door and stepped out into the common areas of our large apartment.

Since my college apartment had five bedrooms and I was the only one with my own bedroom, I lived with eight other girls. While this meant that we had very little privacy, it also meant that our rent was really cheap once it was divided nine ways. It also meant that I never had to look too far to find someone to walk around campus with. My rent was even cheaper than that of my roommates because I cleaned the common areas and managed the collection of the rents and utility payments.

I guess the skills I had developed from all the household chores that my Stepmother had dumped upon me and the part time work that I had done in my Father’s office were paying off in a small way. I also made the grocery shopping runs with my scooter. Since I wasn’t any good at cooking fast foods, the other women in the apartment picked up those duties. I could cook, but my style of cooking took a while and I loved to mix chile and cilantro into my cuisine. Except for Marla, who claimed to love my cooking, my use of chile and cilantro made my dishes too hot for my roommates.

I was the only one with a landline phone in my room. That is why I kept my room locked when I was away from the apartment. My phone line also gave me access to the Internet. The apartment also had a DSL connection that was included in the rent and some of the other girls had wireless laptops. All of my roommates had cell phones. This was great because if we had all been on one phone line, collecting for the bill would have been a nightmare, not to mention that they all were on their respective phones almost all of the time. I was the odd ball in the house because I still refused to get either a pager or a cell phone. To me, cell phones and pagers felt like leashes and electronic tools designed to invade my privacy.

I swear that a couple of my roommates lived on their phones. From what I observed most of the calls were spent comparing notes on guys and figuring out how to rope this or that guy into dating them. The whole process seemed so empty headed to me. I mean seven out of eight of my roommates were bright white women with a lot to offer, but they actually dumbed themselves down and slutted themselves up because they figured that was what men wanted in a prospective date and/or mate. I thought that this was sexism at its worst, but I guess they were right and I was wrong because like clockwork, they were all getting engaged and/or married to this or that guy right before and/or after graduation.

With all of my finagling and budgeting, my housing allowance from my scholarship more than covered all of my actual costs. I just wished that I could have shared my masking activities with at least one of my roommates. I have read that sex and romance is just a matter of well-timed desire and fortunate or lucky geography. Too bad I couldn’t find a roommate like Dizzy. Marla Jones was the best candidate in my immediate environment. I thought that I had seen a flicker of desire in her eyes when she had looked at me across the dinner table on a number of other occasions, but nothing more than that had ever evolved out of our living together while we were in college.

The one exception to this reality was last Halloween where I was cross-dressed and masked as Dracula and she went as the Bride of Frankenstein. Marla was with the football jocks and I managed to blend into that crowd of guys and cut her out of the herd. I learned from that evening that Marla had real sexual and masking abilities and that I could pull off the male role without a hitch. I even made a ceremonial effort at pulling a rubber onto my strap-on dildoe so that Marla would think that we were practicing “safe sex”. I just wish that we could have created a long-term relationship, but when Marla shared her Halloween experience with our other roommates I realized that she was totally straight and that she thought that she had incredible but safe sex with one of the guys on the football team.

Marla was also a “jock” as the other girls in the house called us. Marla Jones was on a volleyball scholarship and was almost as tall and athletic as I was. She was also darker than I was. The campus considered me a “dark Latina” and they classified Marla as an “Afro-American”. I just hated being labeled like that. Marla’s sports/team schedule kept her on the run almost as much as mine did and because different schools specialized in different sports for women and our sports took place in different seasons; we never traveled to away games together. Our daily schedules were such that we didn’t even have time to do our ritualistic jogging together. I had always wondered if Marla had some of the same fantasies as I did, but I was afraid to ask. I guess it was what the behavioral experts call the fear of rejection.

I figured from the patronistic attitude that the white girls in our environment had, that Marla must have been experiencing some of the racial feelings that I had felt, but then maybe she was more tolerant than I was. She would smile and quietly walk away from intentional and unintentional actions and comments that made me bristle with anger. On the other hand I had become pretty good at masking this anger too. Maybe my sensitivity to these ethnocentric and racist attitudes was one of the impacts that my white supremacist and totally racist Stepmother had forced upon me. After all of these years, I still don’t know what my hard working Father saw in that bitch. She had him all tied up and blind to her faults. Maybe she was good in bed. After all, I did have five half brothers and sisters.

When I put the “Geena Davis” unit on later that same night, I fantasized that Marla was wearing the “Julia Roberts” unit during some still unplanned Valentine’s Day romp. I was sure that Marla would have moved out of the house in a flash if she had the slightest inkling of what I was dreaming while locked away in my room.

I put on my head set over the wonderful mask and the big hair fox red wig and turned the volume way up on my CD player. I played some Euro-Disco music and danced the night away in my wonderful body suit and mask while imagining that Marla was watching me from inside of her equally wonderful disguise. I’m not sure if my fantasy party with the masked Marla or the reality of the suit and mask was more erotic for me.

When my gloved hand automatically and almost remotely started stimulating my private parts, my inner being somehow imagined that a beautifully masked Marla was doing it. Some small inner voice left over from the countless battering that my Stepmother used to lay on me said that I was evil and shouldn’t be doing this, but I couldn’t stop. The suit and mask had taken possession of my will. The power of my latex fantasy began to drive me into a twitching and pulsating ecstasy. This was a totally new set of emotions for me. None of my previous masks in my extensive collection at the back of my closet had this incredible transporting reality to them. I was here, but I wasn’t here. I was Desiree, but I was “Valentina” too. (I had decided to call my new masks and body suits the “Valentina twins”). I was with Marla, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I had to believe that it was the total body encasement experience that was driving my erotically emoted state. I felt weak in my knees. My masked image was trembling and tingling all over, but that hand still wouldn’t stop. If it was possible, it seemed to be working even harder. My heart was pounding like thunderclaps ahead of a great force five storm. My toes and ears began to cramp. I felt every fiber in my encased body scream for release.

Finally, every emotive and erotic fuse in my nervous system overloaded beyond the reaches of sanity, but the release that my transformed being craved eluded me and I collapsed in annihilating frustration on the floor in the middle of my locked room. When I began to slowly return to normal I once again stared at my transformed image. “She” screamed, “Fool, you know what you need. Get with the program and formulate a plan.” I just knew that I had to find a real female masking partner that could share and evoke this joy with me.

Of course, the more rationale voice of Desiree quietly and calmly replied, “I just can’t make an announcement at the dinner table.”

“Why the Hell not, Miss I am so horny that a large radiator hood ornament looks like a great sexual toy to me. I wouldn’t want you to offend anyone. And, that even includes you, Miss Goodie Two Shoes?” screamed the beautiful and tantalizing temptress in the room’s sliding glass door mirror.

“What would you have me say?”

“Why not be honest about that secret treasure throve of latex goodies at the back of your closet. Just tell anyone that is willing to listen that you are into total body masking and masked girl on girl sex. If that doesn’t clear the room, then add, ‘would any of you like to play masked sex games with me?’”

“Oh, like that could happen! Hell would freeze over first.”

“Well, if you did that, at least you would be all the way out of the closet for the first time in your life. Aren’t you the one that says honesty is the best policy and that women make the best lovers?”

That image in the mirror had all of the right questions and answers! So I decided to push forth an answer of my own. I figured that while most of my roommates assumed that I was more into girls than guys, none of them had expressed a congruent orientation. “Okay, Miss Julia Valentina Sedona, you are so smart; how would you really get Marla interested in some masked fun and games?” I don’t know where that name came from, but I liked it and it stuck in my mind. I would have to get each of my new personas some identification and eventually some driving licenses.

“Marla would have to be interested in Desiree first, Dummy!” That was another good answer. How come I needed and alter ego to have this kind of clarity of thought?

“I can’t even manage that, Miss Geena Valentina.”

“How do you know that? Have you really tried?” asked the “Geena” reflection.

“But I am afraid that if I do, she won’t like me.”

“Now you are sounding like some juvenile half drunk fraternity boy. No risk, no gain. What do you have to lose?” asked the reflection that I had now named “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter”.

“But my masking would probably scare Marla out of her gourd!”

“I thought that it was the girl on girl issues that had you worried,” observed the masked reflection. “Don’t you think that you should cross that bridge before advancing onto the world of masked realities?”

The following morning, I took Marla aside and asked her what she was planning to do for a graduation celebration. We were graduating in the midyear after winter quarter. There weren’t the traditional June swoon stuff going on. Marla replied, “My boyfriend and I are planning to be married the following weekend on Valentine’s Day and taking a honeymoon at Disney World.”

“I didn’t know that you had a boyfriend, Marla?”

“Well it is kind of sudden for me too, but that is the way love is,” said Marla. “We can’t stay away too long because Boomer hasn’t graduated yet. I have to find a job quick so that I can help him finish school since his football scholarship has ended.”

She seemed so happy. In fact I had never seen Marla act so excited about anything before. So much for my masked girl on girl sex with Marla. No risk, all pain. Boomer was also a jock. He was one of those big linemen that the university uses up until their eligibility is all gone and then cuts them off without a degree. I liked Boomer and I had even dated him a couple of seasons back. He was a nice enough guy but he was way too dumb for Marla.

Only my father came to my graduation. I felt totally insulted that my beautiful Stepmother still didn’t acknowledge my accomplishments, but I was also glad that I was able to share this event with my Dad. He said that my biological mother would have been extremely proud of me had she lived to see this day. He and I spent the afternoon of my graduation with Marla’s family. They were so proud of her too. She was the first girl to go to college in her family, let alone graduate from one and her mother was all in a foaming lather about Marla’s impending wedding to Boomer.

“That silly boy doesn’t have clue what my baby girl will be sacrificing to marry him. I don’t know what she sees in that bum. She won’t listen to me. I don’t want her to make those same mistakes that I did when I married Marla’s father before I achieved my full potential. Can you do anything to stop her, Desiree? You seem like such a levelheaded girl.”

This sounded like a job for “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter”. Then again, it was the real Julia Roberts that had starred in My Best Friend’s Wedding. Did I dare to be Marla’s best friend with my “Miss Julia Valentina Sedona” look? How could I ease Marla into my world of female masking without scaring her away? I found my mouth saying, “I don’t think that Boomer is right for Marla either Mrs. Jones. I will see what I can do. Marla should at least have one girl’s night out before her wedding day.”

Mrs. Jones reached into her purse and pulled out a large wad of bills. “This money comes from my tips associated with my beauty parlor business. I don’t even have any idea how much is in this roll of bills. I just know that it is a lot and I trust to the Dear Lord for you to use it as he has directed before the beginning of time. I have been saving them bills for a rainy day and the rain is about to fall in buckets on my baby’s parade. Take this money, Desiree and make sure that my sweet, darlin’ baby tastes life to the fullest tonight!”

“I’m not exactly sure what you mean, Mrs. Jones and I don’t think I can take this money.”

“Just think of this money as an advance on that car you have always dreamed of buying,” said Mrs. Jones as she took both of her large and weathered hands and pressed the wad of money into my hands.

“How do you know about that car, Mrs. Jones?”

“Marla tells me almost everything about her life, Honey. My girl likes you and trusts you. Marla has a great big spirit and if she trusts and likes you, so do I. Besides, I can see in your eyes that you are wise beyond your years. I believe the Dear Lord has sent you to protect my baby from that heathen man that has stolen her heart.”

“But what do you think I can do to accomplish that, Mrs. Jones?”

“Look deep into that great mind that my baby tells me that you have. If you do what I want you to do, Honey, there won’t be a wedding day with that big ass, no job, numb nut, beer drinkin’ bum for my Marla until rain starts to fall upwards and Hell freezes over!” As she pierced my spirit with her great brown eyes, Mrs. Jones continued to press the roll of bills into the palms of my hands.

“Do you have anything specific in mind, Mrs. Jones?”

“The less I know about what you are planning, the better, girl. But, I can tell you that I have another wad of money in a safe place that is even bigger than the one that I just gave you. Between that money and the money that I won’t have to spend on that wasted weddin’ I’ll just bet that I will have enough money to outright buy that dream car of yours. Just save my baby, Desiree.”

“It won’t be necessary to buy me that car, Mrs. Jones.”

“Then use the money as a down payment on a house and/or business for you and Marla.”

“Marla and I aren’t that close, Mrs. Jones.”

“I know what I know and you can fix that if you want to, Desiree,” said Mrs. Jones.

“But where would I start?”

“Do you think that if I plant a seed with Marla about a bachelorette party that you could take it from there? Marla said that she saw you at some of the showers for your roommates and some Halloween party a while back and that you really know how to have fun.”

“Which Halloween party was that, Mrs. Jones? Your daughter and I have been roommates for more than four years.”

“I think that Marla said that it was the one where you and the other girls got all dressed up as Catwomen or something like that.”

“I did have fun at that Halloween party and I have seen Marla at those showers that you mentioned. So, if you get me an opening with Marla through that bachelorette party ruse, I will do my level best to derail Marla and Boomer’s wedding plans.”

“I knew the Dear Lord sent you to me, girl,” gratefully declared Mrs. Jones as she turned on her heels and rejoined the noisy graduation party. Almost immediately a plan started to hatch in my fertile diabolical mind that somehow had the “Valentina Twins” demonstrating to Marla that Boomer was an unfaithful slob that just saw Marla as an exploitable meal ticket and a place to park his dick. I looked across the happy room and saw my father talking to Mrs. Jones. Almost as quickly as I had started my thought about Marla and Boomer, I began to plan how to show my father that my horrific Stepmother was using him like Boomer intended to use Marla.

I don’t know what Mrs. Jones told her daughter, but within minutes of my conversation with Mrs. Jones, Marla came over to me and asked if we could step away from the party for a couple of minutes. We stepped into my room and she locked the door. “Okay, Desiree, what do you have planned for my bachelorette party?”

“To be honest, Marla, I just started to think about it?”

“That figures. I knew that my Mother was up to something when she buttonholed you. She can be very persuasive when she gets a bee in her bonnet.”

“Your Mother loves you a lot, Marla and I was just wondering how faithful do you believe Boomer to be?”

“Don’t you worry about that, girl. Boomer is all mine. Why do you ask?”

“Has Boomer told you that he and I dated for a while?”

“No he didn’t, Desiree, but are you telling me that you are jealous of my relationship with Boomer?” asked Marla with a bit of a bite in her voice.

“Not at all, Marla. Boomer and I never did anything that said to me that I ever had the remotest chance of a long-term relationship with him, but I learned that he has a really extensive wandering eye when I was out with him. I mean that when I was with Boomer, I felt like I was his favorite animal for the moment in his expansive stable of favorite beasts. He never made me feel like I was special or feminine.”

“I must have tamed all of that wildness out of him because he isn’t that way with me anymore. I can guarantee emphatically that Boomer only has eyes for me.”

To this naive statement of false confidence I responded, “If you would like to put that emphatic guarantee to a little test, I have two thousand dollars in my purse that say Boomer will wander off the range, anytime and anywhere, Marla.”

“My Mother said that you were a real friend and that I could trust you, but what kind of friend would try and make a bet like that with me a week before my wedding day?”

“A much better and honest friend than you realize, Marla. If Boomer is stuck on you the way you say that he is, then you have nothing to lose and a nice dowry to gain by taking my bet.”

“What is your end in this, Desiree? You have never gone out on a limb like this before and I know how tight you are with your money. Why all of the sudden interest in me?” questioned Marla.

Now was not the time to be deceitful. Marla was a good kid and had never done me a foul deed. Besides, I had just told Marla that I was an honest friend and so I decided to use honesty as a strategy. “I have been tight with my meager funds all of these years because I have been saving up for my dream car and I am getting really close to my goal.”

“Did my meddling Mother put you up to this stunt, Desiree?” probed Marla. “She has never really told me that she didn’t like Boomer, but she might move undercover to torpedo him. I know that he isn’t her image of the perfect husband for me.”

I considered an untruthful answer once again, but decided to stay on the road to honesty. “Yes she did, but I was thinking about you and Boomer before your Mother made her move. Your Mom just helped me along.”

“So let me get this straight. If we can use my use my bachelorette party to prove that Boomer is an unfaithful louse, you win the bet and my loving Mother helps you to get your dream car?”

“Something like that. I haven’t worked out all of the details yet and we don’t have to use your bachelorette party as the setting for the test. In addition, if I help you see the true lay of the land in your relationship with Boomer, then I will need a favor from you within the next year.”

“I hope that you don’t need that favor all that much, Desiree, because you may never get it.”

“Does that mean that you are taking my bet to test out Boomer’s fidelity, Marla?”

“It is a sucker bet and I am taking it to prove that you and my Mother are out to lunch. Boomer and I can use that two thousand dollars from your car fund to pay for our honeymoon. Besides, I would love showing my meddling Mother that she is dead wrong about Boomer.”

“Believe me, Marla, I hope that you are right and that your Mother and I are wrong.”

“That is good, because that is exactly how this is going to end and you will be on that silly little scooter of yours for a couple more years.”

“Your happiness would make my riding my scooter worth while, Marla.”

“Now that statement really sounds like a good friend,” said Marla. “So how is this bet supposed to work and what does Boomer have to do to win this bet for us?”

“Well first thing, we must both swear to never tell Boomer what we are up to even if he passes that test.”

“That is a given, Desiree and since you have been so honest with me, I promise to be that way with you.”

“Great, Marla. That will make whatever we decided to do a lot easier.”

“So what is your proposal? Are you planning to make a play for my Boomer?” asked Marla.

“That would be too cliché and way too obvious to be a real test. I think it would be better if we made that move together.”

“Are you asking me to shove my Boomer over to you?” probed Marla.

“Not at all, Marla. That would be silly and Boomer would figure out what we were doing in a flash.”

“Then what is your plan, Desiree?”

“Okay, here goes nothing and please hear me out all the way before you put the brakes on this idea as I haven’t worked out all of the details yet.”

“What if I like some parts of the plan and not others? Can I make suggestions?” probed Marla with real curiosity and interest being expressed in her voice.

“Sure thing. That would be wonderful, Marla. The more that you own this plan the better it will be for you and like I said, I don’t want to involve anyone other than Boomer, you and me. So, I propose that you and I alter our identities and see if Boomer would be unfaithful to you with our altered identities. You know that I have taken classes in sculpture and that sculpting is still my hobby.”

“I remember the mess that you made of your room when you were taking those courses,” declared Marla.

“I wasn’t aware that anyone was noticed my sculpting activities.”

“No one said anything because you were doing all of the house work and you always cleaned-up your messes. But even then, I don’t think that the other girls really took any note of what you or I was into as long as I washed, sewed and ironed their clothes and you picked-up after them. I think that they kept us around because we helped with the rent and we were cheaper than a couple of live-in maids.”

“You never said anything about this before, Marla, but I can really identify with your last statement.”

“I never said anything before because I wasn’t about to graduate and get married. So what does all of this have to do with my wedding and tempting Boomer to commit infidelity?” asked Marla.

“I was working my way up to that point, Marla. I guess that what I am trying to say is that I have a set of disguises that will allow us to walk right through the room where our parents are presently sitting and not even your Mother or my Father will know that we are in the house. Even if we told them that we were in disguise, they won’t believe it is us until we take off the disguises right in front of their eyes.”

“I just have to see this stuff you are talking about, Desiree. There is nothing made that is as good a disguise as you are inferring,” declared Marla.

“What are you doing tonight after our graduation reception?”

“I was going out for a hot time and some dancin’ at the Pickles Club with Boomer,” replied Marla.

“I hear that, but you need to break that date with good old Boomer. If you can bring yourself to do that, Marla, I promise to show you a whole New World.”

“What should I tell Boomer when I am breaking this date with him. I have been looking forward to this evening for a couple of weeks. Sometimes it was the thought of this evening with Boomer that got me through my finals.”

“Just pull the stereotype feminine move that most guys have heard a hundred times and tell him that you have a headache or something lame like that.”

“Okay, Desiree, I will break my date with Boomer. It will probably break his heart.”

“Trust me, Marla. You will break his head before you even get close to his heart.”

“All I can say is that what you have planned better be really good,” proclaimed Marla.

“It is better than good, Marla. You are going to look back upon this evening and the Valentine season as a major turning point in your life.”

“That is already happening with our graduation, Desiree and we had better get back into our reception.”

“I hear that, Marla.” I could hardly wait for everyone to leave our reception, but finally the last well-wishers left our apartment. I didn’t even want to clean up the apartment from the party. I was moving out at the end of the month and the other girls might as well get used to living in the pigsty that they are so good at creating. Marla expressed a similar sentiment, so after we locked our front door we went into my room and locked that door as well. Marla said that she felt like we were couple of naughty girls that were about to smoke their first stolen cigarette in a secret ramshackle tree house. I told her that I remembered doing that very thing and that I had to pretend that I had a cold after I did it because the damn thing made me cough out my lungs. I swear the two of us laughed, giggled and snickered like we were two pre-teens making a secret pact.

I went into my walk-in storage closet where I kept all the cleaning tools and my sculpture supplies along with my meager but well maintained wardrobe. Hidden neatly behind this strange variety of items were my mask collection and other fetish gear as well as the two banker boxes containing the “Valentina Twins”. I pulled the two boxes out of the closet and set them on my bed like I was preparing a communion table. Marla didn't utter a single sound or say a single word when I opened the boxes and showed her the contents.

I considered telling Marla about Dizzy and Marie and what they did at the Rubber Realities Company, but I decided against doing that. Instead, I decided to let Marla think that I made the incredible body suits and the life like masks. While Marla was still studying one of the suits, I slipped into my small bathroom and carefully, but masterfully pulled on what I was calling my “Julia Valentina Sedona” body suit and mask. By this point in time, I realized that I had added “Sedona” to the name for the suit’s image because it felt seductive to me. When I reemerged from my little bathroom, Marla gasped like my visage took her breath away. “What do you think, Marla?”

“I really don’t know what to say, Desiree. You look absolutely and totally naked but you are no longer you. Your transformation is so complete and so real! The detail in your body suit and mask is incredible. If I didn’t know that your bathroom had only one way in and one way out, I would have thought that you traded places with this person that I am looking at now. Is this what you have been doing in here behind locked doors all of these years?”

“To continue our vow of honesty, I freely admit that I have been masking in my room on a regular basis for a number of years, Marla. Would you like to try on the other body suit and mask?”

“I guess that I should,” said Marla. “I might as well go all the way.”

Marla didn’t say a single word as we prepared her to change into “Geena Valentina Shafter”. While Marla patiently waited for the hair-removing chemicals to do their job, I dressed my transformed persona in my new club clothes. The money that Marla’s Mother had given to me would come in handy when the credit card bill for the clothes came to the apartment. After I put the finishing touches on my exotic outfit, I asked, “What do you think, Marla?”

“You look like a well put together high-fashion model that is totally ready to go clubbing. Do you think that I will be able pull off that look too?” probed Marla.

“As easy as falling off a wet and slippery log, Marla.” And, I wasn’t just saying that to con Marla into going clubbing with me in our new totally fabulous and undetectable disguises. I really meant it. I guess that Marla took me at my word and after she washed off the hair and the vestiges of the hair removal cremes, she pulled on the “Geena Valentina Shafter” body suit and mask with a lot of assistance from me.

I didn’t realize how accomplished I had become at pulling on latex and rubber gear until I watched Marla work through her transformation into “Geena Valentina Shafter”.

As I continued helping and watching Marla’s transformation I also realized that for my young and impressionable mind, the excitement of masking is in the paradox of the illusion. The more complete the illusion, the greater the paradox and therefore that greater the degree of excitement. I think that is why I am into the full cover costume and/or doll look. Now that I have been blessed to see some of my stuff on a willing and already amply endowed and wenchy female, masking has become even a larger part of my life, if that was possible.

The totally weird part about all of this revelation is that I used to think that making the fantasy into a reality would lessen the brilliance of the illusory paradox. But, to the totally unexpected contrary, when Marla started to mask for me, the explicit reality of her activity had heightened the implicit fantasy. I wanted to ask Marla if this notion made any sense for her, but decided that since this was all new for her, she probably wouldn’t understand what I was talking about.

Marla almost seemed to read my mind when she said; “I can’t believe that it is me inside of this white girl image, Desiree. If you can believe this, I am almost more enthralled with the paradox of who I am as compared with what I see.”

“I can believe really easily, Marla.”

“I was totally transfixed by your transformation, but watching it happen just prior to my own transformation is really something else. I just can’t believe that we are doing this!” exclaimed Marla through her “Geena Valentina” image.

“Well, I am here to tell you that you are doing it and that for the rest of the evening you need to call me Julia Sedona and I will be addressing you as Geena Shafter.”

“I love this, Miss Sedona. If anyone had told me that I would be bold over by this transformation, I would have said that they were crazy. And, if Boomer goes for either of us in our new images, Miss Shafter is going to give him a real shafting!” proclaimed Marla’s “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter” as she continued to model her naked yet totally masked image in my closet door mirror.

“I just thought we were going to do a trial run tonight, Miss Shafter.”

“Isn’t our bet still on, Miss Sedona?”

“Of course it is. Nothing has happened that could have altered that.”

“I remembering saying that I wanted to go for broke, Miss Sedona, and I know that Boomer is probably out at Pickles without his fiancée. He is a freaking sucker for the music and dancing in that club and that was where he was taking me tonight. In our hot new images, we will stand out in that club like a couple of tall and absolutely sexy white towers.”

“You got that right, White girl.”

“The slick ass boys that hold up the bar in Pickles will stumble all over themselves as they swarm on us like hungry bees homing in on heavily scented flowers that are weighted down with super sweet nectar,” declared “Miss Shafter” while pulling on her sexy little excuse for a dress.

“How come you are so positive about that, Miss Shafter?” asked my “Julia Sedona” image.

“I have been in that place with Boomer when stuff like that has happened,” responded Marla through the lips of her “Geena Shafter” visage. “I always hated the creamy white bitches that made those loud-mouth brothers give up their pride. On the other hand, I can’t believe how sexy wild and free I feel in this white woman disguise and club clothing. I wonder if this is how white women, that look this fancy ass good, feel all of the time?”

“Probably not as much as you and I are feeling it, Miss Shafter.”

“Why do you say that, Miss Sedona?” probed Marla’s masked image while pulling on one of her red sky-high platform boots.

“Because doing this kind of thing is all brand new to the two of us,” responded my masked persona as I bent over to help “Miss Shafter” to put on and zip up her other sky-high platform boot.

“I don’t know how much dancing and walking I will be able to do in these incredible boots. You had better use some of that wad of money for cab faire, Miss Sedona, because we are just asking for it in these clothes.”

“I hear that, Miss Shafter.” I followed Marla’s suggestion and called for a cab. We finished each other’s make-up and primped our wigs while we waited for the taxi. We also rehearsed some signals and practiced on making our voices and inflections sound more like what we believed that most white girls sounded like. In point of fact, we both settled on what we thought to be an English sounding accent that originates from London. I guess we sounded something like Bridgett Jones imitations, but it fooled the cab driver. He even asked if we were exchange students from England. As we rode along we realized that the taxi driver was having a hard time looking at the road in front of him. He kept staring into the rearview mirrors of the cab every chance he got.

To make our outfits even more authentic, we “borrowed” some of our white roommates’ outerwear. I had found a shaggy pink fake fur and Marla had acquired a fake fox jacket. When we arrived at the club we walked right to the head of the long line and got immediate admittance. It was like we knew the owner of the club. We didn’t even have to pay the normal cover charge. I guess that it pays to be pretty, sexy and white. Boomer was at the bar with all of his football “buddies” just like Marla said he would be and they swarmed on us just like she had said that they would.

Those big black guys went for our big white girl look in a big way. I’m glad that I liked to dance and had practiced doing it in my really tall platform boots because I rarely got a chance to sit down. The minute that Boomer danced with “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter”, Marla gave off the signals that Boomer could get lucky that night if he was so inclined. When I danced with him, I gave him the same signals and he didn’t hesitate for a nano second in responding in the affirmative. That big lug didn’t act for one split second like the faithful bird dawg that Marla had described to me. He was hot to trot and ready for all the action he could get.

When Marla and I took a bathroom break together to compare notes on the progress or lack thereof during the evening, I found out that she was getting the same signals from Boomer that I was getting. “Should I suggest that we do a threesome to Boomer?” inquired “Geena Valentina Shafter”.

“I’m up for that if you are, Miss Shafter. That way we can take turns taking pictures of Boomer’s indiscretions and compromising situations.”

“I can’t believe, Boomer, Miss Sedona. Just this afternoon he told Marla that he was so in love with her that it was like all other women had disappeared from the face of the Earth.”

“Boomer was just telling Marla what he thought she wanted to hear, Miss Shafter.”

“Well I plan to go all the way with him tonight if that is okay with you, Miss Sedona, but in the process I plan to leave him all fucked up.”

“It is your Valentine’s party, Miss Shafter. Do whatever suits your fancy.”

“Then let’s go back out there and give Boomer the shaft! I mean, I still can’t believe that guy!” exclaimed Marla through her “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter” disguise. I think that Marla enjoyed that evening’s masked sex with Boomer more than any other time she had spent with him. In fact, it was probably the best time she had ever had. She was so free and high on the joys of life, and the photos that I took bore witness to that fact.

PART TWO

Marla confronted Boomer with copies of those digital photos the following evening and broke off her engagement to Boomer at the same time. Marla took me along for moral support since his posse always surrounded Boomer. Boomer even had the nerve to deny that it was he in the photos and a couple of members of his posse backed up his claim until Marla pointed out some birthmarks and scars from football injuries that were unique to Boomer. Then Boomer tried to say that the white bitches that set him up had drugged him and forced him to do the wild acts in the photos at gunpoint. I have to hand it to Boomer; he could have done a great stand up comic routine with his act if his material hadn’t been so pathetic. His style and delivery was hilarious, but Marla wasn’t laughing.

We left in the middle of Boomer’s “farewell to Marla act”. On the way back to our apartment, we used Marla’s car and she called her Mother to have her cancel the wedding and reception plans. Because Marla’s voice was incredibly loud and Marla held the cell phone away from her ear, I could hear Mrs. Jones’ shouts for joy and her counseling of her daughter. Too my surprise, Marla didn’t seem all that grief stricken over her break-up with Boomer. Actually, she seemed more relieved than anything else. When we finally arrived back in our big and empty place, Marla went into her room and filled a box with junk relating to her engagement to Boomer.

When Marla came out of her room into the common area and set that box full of stuff on the dining table, she was still dressed and disguised as “Geena Valentina Shafter”. Thru her lovely masked image she said, “Okay, Desiree, you won what Marla thought was a sucker bet. Only thing is that Marla turned out to be the all time stupid and naive sucker.”

“No one can be right all of the time or win them all, Marla.”

“Please call me Geena. The naïve sucker, Marla the Dumb, has just left town. The masked girl that you see before you is turning over a new leaf.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want, but don’t be so hard on yourself, Geena, no matter by which name you call yourself. Marla was in love and they say that love is blind. I really think that expression should be rephrased to say that passion, infatuation, and unbridled desire are blind. The bad news was that Marla so wanted the fairy tale marriage to come true; that she didn’t look for the chuckholes and pitfalls in the road to what she thought was your bliss. The good news is that Marla finally found them through masking and did something to avoid those chuckholes and pitfalls before her misguided fairytale relationship to Boomer became a mistake for life.”

“Thanks for helping Marla do that, Desiree,” said Marla as “Geena Valentina Shafter”. “So, what is the favor that Marla the Dumb has to do to pay off the bet that she lost tonight?” I started off explaining what I wanted Marla to do by showing Marla the first ballroom scene from the film Eyes Wide Shut. Marla dutifully watched the well-directed bit and then gave me a puzzled look and asked, “You mean, all you wanted Marla the Dumb to do is watch that movie scene with you?”

“Not hardly, Marla.”

“I told you to call me Geena. Marla the Dumb has passed away.”

“Are you sure that you want me to believe that?”

“Do it. Marla doesn’t belong in this room.”

“Okay, Geena then here is what you have to do to payoff Marla’s losses. My Dad and Stepmother are planning to go to a Valentine Ball at the Ritz Carlton and I want Geena Valentina Shafter to help me create that lounge lizard type and entrap my Stepmother the same way that we exposed Boomer.”

“Why do you want to do that, Desiree?” probed Marla’s “Geena Valentina Shafter”.

“Because I don’t think that any of my alleged half brothers and sisters are really my Father’s children.”

“You have got to be kidding me, right?” probed “Miss Valentina Shafter.

“I am deadly serious, Geena. From what a couple of my alleged little sisters told me over the Christmas break, I think that my philandering Stepmother has had a string of affairs.”

“That is just horrible Desiree and I can sense how a story like that could really make you sick, but do you really think it is true? Maybe your little sisters were just making it up.”

“They had some pretty convincing evidence to support their claims. You see the whole thing surfaced for them when they did some simple DNA experiments in their biology labs. Neither of their DNA samples matched each others.”

“This for real?” questioned Marla’s “Geena” disguise.

“Unfortunately yes, and what is more, neither of their DNA had any matches with the DNA in the blood sample that they took from my Father without his knowledge.”

“Exactly how did they do that?” asked Marla’s “Geena Shafter” image.

“Their version is that they drew some blood from him while he took a nap in front of the television.”

“And that sounds believable to you?” inquired Marla’s incredible masked image of “Geena Valentina Shafter” with the inflection of total amazement in her voice.

“Knowing my Father as I do, I believe that could have happened. I used to complain that he snored so loud in front of the television that you had to wear a headset to hear the dialogue. You could drop a gong next to him and he wouldn’t wake up unless a football game came on. My alleged sisters got a blood sample from my Stepmother when she came home and passed out after one of her dates.”

“That is so totally wild, Desiree. So which one of us is going to mask and cross-dress as the lounge lizard?” probed “Geena”.

“You got to that conclusion before I could make my pitch, Geena.”

“I think I am beginning to know how your masking mind thinks, Desiree,” responded Marla thru her “Geena Valentina Shafter” disguise.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that for me so I think that I will take on the task of transforming into the lounge lizard. You will need to be Geena Valentina Shafter and distract my Father while my Mr. Shafter links up with my Stepmother, Marla. You may also have to figure out and arrange for the taking of the audio and photographic documentation.”

“After Marla the Dumb’s narrow escape from Boomer’s grubby clutches, I am pretty sure that my new Geena image can do all of that,” responded Marla from behind her “Geena” mask, “but are you sure that you can pull off the cross-gender role of the lounge lizard?”

“Do you remember the Dracula character that you were so attacked to at our last Halloween party?”

“That was just before I started getting really serious with Boomer. I sure do remember that guy. I always thought that if I had really known who he was, that I could have really gone for him instead of starting up with Boomer,” declared the lovely and exotic latex image of “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter”.

“I know who he was. In fact I know him really well,” announced Desiree.

“Get out of town. You mean that you know this guy and never shared him with me?” asked Marla’s perfectly disguised image.

“I didn’t know that you were so interested, Geena. Would you like to meet him?”

“You mean that you would fix me up with that guy?” probed Marla as “Geena”.

I answered her probe by saying, “Sure, if that is something that you really want, Geena. He told me that he liked Marla.

“If he liked Marla the Dumb, what makes you think that he will like the new Geena, Desiree?”

“I this guy pretty good and I am totally that he will go for Geena in a big way.”

“So who is this guy? Do I know him?” inquired Marla from behind her mask with disbelief in her masked and altered voice.

“I think that you do, but you just don’t know it. I have his address in a box of stuff in my closet if you want me to get it for you, Geena.” I stood up in preparation to entering my large dressing/storage closet. “It might take me a couple of minutes to find it.”

“That sounds like fun as long as I can fit this in with finding a job and pay off my bet with you,” stated Marla’s “Geena” image when I stepped into the closet and disappeared behind the first row of clothes.

“I found the box. I will be out in a couple of minutes.”

“Take your time, Desiree. That will allow me to think through a couple of scenarios that we could use on your Father and Stepmother at the Valentine Day Ball.” In less than a minute, I reappeared in my room wearing my full head Dracula mask and my Dracula styled black and red heavy satin cape. “Are you telling me that guy was you?” asked Marla’s Geena personae with a question of total disbelief.

“Yes it was, Geena,” I said from behind my wonderfully realistic mask. I had always thought that this mask was an example of some of my best work.”

“No way! I had some incredible sex with the Dracula character, Desiree!” exclaimed Marla’s masked image with the shock of realization beginning to dawn on her.

“I know, Geena and I loved that really sweet and high little squeal that emanates from you when you cum. The toy that I used is the best strap-on that I have ever designed.”

“OH, MY, GOD! This really too scary, Desiree, because I believed that was some of the best sex that I ever had until last night’s acts of total abandon with Boomer.”

“It has been said that women make for the best lovers of women because we know exactly what other women want and need while men are just guessing at it,” proclaimed my Dracula imitation.

“Will you swear on your immortal soul that you are telling me the truth?” begged “Geena” with a voice that was full of amazed horror.

“I already promised not to lie to Marla, Geena.”

“You can’t believe what, Geena?”

“I can’t believe that, Desiree.”

“That last Halloween was Marla and you.”

“I swear that I was behind this mask last Halloween, Geena.”

Are sure that some guy at the party didn’t borrow it for a little while?” asked Marla’s “Geena” image as she tried to fathom what had happened.

“No one borrowed my mask, Geena. It was me all of the way.”

“Then do it again to Geena Valentina Shafter, Desiree, because this revelation has me all turned around and confused. Marla’s parents would just die if they knew that she had fantastic sex with another girl. Wait a minute. I take that back. Marla’s Mother would kill Marla first, then Marla’s Father would kill Marla and then they would die.”

“Okay, just for you, I swear upon my immortal soul that I am telling you the truth about me and you on Halloween and I further swear that your secret is safe with me. Let me go back into the closet and get out my anatomically correct dildoe if you want further proof. In any case, I have already started to sculpt the lounge lizard head for our Valentine’s adventure.”

“You are really too much, Desiree. You better wear that lounge lizard mask, costume and dildoe for me after we shaft your Stepmother.”

“I’ll take that as a Valentine’s Day promise from you, Geena. I can’t wait to hear that really high and sweet little squeal again.”

As good as I thought my impersonation a confident male on the prowl was, which is known in some circles by the name of “lounge lizard”, for some reason unknown to me, my Stepmother didn’t go for the bait during the Valentine Ball at the Ritz Carlton. Getting my Stepmother to dance with “Jacques Lizard (pronounced Lee Zard) Shafter” wasn’t any problem. I noticed that my Father seemed to encourage his wife’s apparent philandering behavior and that really boggled my mind at the time. It should have set off some alarm bells, but I was too into completing my revenge fantasy to listen to reason. However, when “Jacques Lizard Shafter” danced with my Stepmother, she seemed to be more concerned with the attention that her husband was dishing out to Marla’s “Geena Valentina Shafter” than she was in starting up a Valentine’s Day affair with “Jacques”.

I later learned that my Stepmother was already pregnant at the time. However, when my father hit on Marla in her “Geena Valentina Shafter” disguise, he did so with the ferocity of a starving wolf. By the time the Valentine Ball ended, he offered Marla’s “Geena Davis” look-a-like personae a management job with his construction firm. Even though Marla really wasn’t qualified to do the job, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to get closer to “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter.”

After the divide and conquer activity failed with my parents, from my point of view, the “Valentina twins” became lovers on Valentine’s Day. For Marla, this event confirmed that I really had been the sexy and virile Dracula that had fucked her brains out the previous Halloween. The following day, I called Dizzy and Marie and commissioned with Rubber Realities to make Marla her own “Geena Valentina Shafter” body suit and mask. Marla decided on even a more extreme hourglass body shape than my original design. Marla’s new look equaled anything that the “Rubber Sisters” had created. My Father was just mesmerized by the new developments with “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter”.

I failed to realize that the divide and conquer strategy had in fact worked even better than I had dreamed. The only problem was that instead of dividing off and isolating my Stepmother with a lurid and high profile affair with “Jacques Lizard”; my Father had become infatuated with “Miss Geena Valentina Shafter”. I had made my father the aggrieved and totally innocent victim of my Stepmother in most of my revenge fantasies and I wasn’t sure how to cope with this unexpected development. I actually began to feel guilty that I hadn’t seen it coming.

Not surprisingly, Marla’s masked personae eventually yet relatively quickly worked her way into a partnership with my Father via the extortion method while using the techniques that she had learned and developed during her and my entrapment of Boomer. Marla also became really accomplished at using her “white” female wiles on the job. I saw to it that my pregnant Stepmother’s life was lonely and miserable as possible by making sure that the most pornographic information about my father’s affair with Geena Valentina Shafter reached her ears via electronically scrambled phone calls.

I didn’t want my Stepmother to have any tangible evidence that she could use to get a large divorce settlement. My stepmother already had an edge in that the firm had originally belonged to her Stepmother’s father. This meant that Marla and I not only had to rest the control of the firm away from my father, we also had to block any claims that my Stepmother had.

The question of Marla and my keeping our relationship and masking in the closet never seemed to be an issue for Marla. I was beginning to wonder if I had really created this masked monster or if Marla had always had this capability and desire under her cool surface veneer. The question of our relationship did not really came to a head for me in my role of “Julia Valentina Sedona” until after Marla hired me to work with her in the construction firm.

Working in the male dominated setting of the construction firm made me realize that the power of the “Valentina Twins” was in the fact that every one of the males with power in the firm wanted to get into the “Twins” private parts. Had Marla and I let these men know our true feelings about men as sexual liaisons, then these very same men would see us as a couple of off the range bitches and the “Twin’s” power would have dissipated immediately.

By staying in the closet, the “Valentina Twin’s” power was amplified by the games and competitive nature of males in heat. On the other hand, even in our masked personaes, it was incredibly difficult for Marla and me to mask our desire and affection for each other. Even I found myself totally infatuated with the hourglass shape of Marla’s “Geena Valentina Shafter” look. As time went by, I actually began to despise the power that this infatuation gave to Marla. It felt like the power that my Stepmother had over me when I was a child.

In addition, neither Marla nor I wanted to share our feelings for each other with either of our respective families. For me, not telling my Father about Marla in my “Geena Valentina Shafter” personae was in the same category of not telling him about any of my other personal relationships. Marla was my first true girl on girl relationship, but none of my female/male relationships had lasted long enough or felt serious enough to discuss with him.

Even “going steady” had never been an option for me. Besides, even though my relationship with Marla felt pretty serious, I wasn’t sure if my activities with Marla Jones were going to go beyond my goals of revenge that I felt towards my Stepmother. I had reasoned that if Marla and I ever decided to make some kind of total commitment to each other, then maybe then and only then would I come out of the closet. To this end, I continued cross-dressing and masking as “Mr. Shafter” when I escorted “Geena Shafter” to company functions. This also gave “Jacques Lizard Shafter” several opportunities to wear down my Stepmother’s defenses.

When I discussed all of these issues and possible consequences with Marla, I found that Marla was in pretty much the same place. So, the “Valentina” twins continue to use sex and extortion to eventually rest all corporate control from my Father and Stepmother. This meant that on paper my Father was nothing more than a penniless figurehead by the time of the company Halloween party. It gave me a great joy when I thought about my Stepmother as pregnant and having half of nothing. What is more, neither my Father nor my Stepmother realized their situation just yet.

However, it was at the company Halloween party that I realized that Marla was beginning to do a lot more with my Father than play the role of “Geena Valentina Shafter”. That particular Halloween party was also the event where, to my great surprise, I actually began to feel sorry for my very pregnant Stepmother when she tried to dance with “Jacques Lizard Shafter”. While my Stepmother’s pumpkin costume disguised her condition, she definitely had problems navigating around the dance floor. When we weren’t dancing, my Stepmother took “Mr. Shafter” into her confidence and told me (in my role of Jacques) about a side of her marriage that stood my Father in a whole new light in my mind. “Will you look at the way my husband is going after you lovely wife, Mr. Lizard?”

“I think that there is more to their relationship than a quasi-office romance, Mrs. Cabrillo. Maybe you should start to calling me Jacques.”

“Only if you start calling me Lilly, Mr. Shafter. I have to admit that you make for a really dashing figure in your Dracula mask and costume and I want to take this opportunity to thank you for paying attention to me in my condition.”

“You make a great looking pumpkin, Lilly,” lied my “Jacques” while inside of my mask, I felt strange when I called my Stepmother by her first name. Lilly had always insisted that I address her as “Mother”. “With my wife’s preoccupation with your husband, it only seems natural that I spend some time with you. Has he always treated you this way when you were pregnant?”

“No, he has always been very attentive in the past. My husband is incapable of having children. He functions like a man, but some very hush-hush top secret accident with nuclear waste during his time in the service, makes his sperm count inconsequential.”

“But you are pregnant.”

“I am sure that the whole world knows that, Jaques. Mr. Cabrillo loves seeing me in this condition. He even encourages me to have affairs with other men so that I can bear children for him.”

“My wife told me that your oldest daughter is his and not your child, Lilly,” probed my (Jacques) perfect “Dracula” disguise.

“That is true. I feel more like an older sister to her. Desiree is a product of my husband’s first marriage. She and I are only ten years apart in age. I was just barely seventeen when I got married to Mr. Cabrillo and Desiree was almost seven at the time. I was pregnant at the time we married, but that child wasn’t his even though he said that Herbert was his. I was so grateful to Mr. Cabrillo for taking me in and marrying me that I didn’t realize what an abusive Hell that I had stepped into.”

“Have you ever shared any of this with Desiree?”

“No and I don’t think that I can,” responded Lilly.

“Why not, Lilly? She was there too and if she is the little sister that you say that she is, maybe she would understand.”

“I wish that were so, but I made a lot of mistakes with Desiree. I think that she hates me for taking her Father away from her, but I never really did that.”

“What does Desiree do that makes you think that she hates you?” asked my “Dracula” impersonation. I was wishing that Lilly and I had had this conversation long before this.

“Desiree and her Father have a really special relationship,” declared Lilly.

“What do you mean by that?” probed my “Dracula” as “he” leaned in closer to the “Pumpkin”. “Special sounds like something really good to me.”

“That is because you are a man, Jacques. My husband talks to his eldest daughter like she is the ghost of his first wife. When we were first married I really resented that and I took it out on Desiree. But, maybe that was for the best.”

“How is that so?” asked my “Dracula” figure.

“I am really proud of her accomplishments. She has achieved all the things that I would have done if I weren’t pregnant all of the time. Sometimes I feel closer to her than my own children. I am not sure if Desiree is my husband’s genetic child, but she might be. Like I said earlier, Desiree is from his first wife and he knew her before that accident in the service.” The doubt and confusion that Lilly was casting upon my genetic heritage was totally disconcerting for me.

“So why do you think that Mr. Cabrillo is fooling around now?”

“Look at your wife’s body. He loves that hourglass look and Geena is a knockout. But, I am sure that you already know that. I rarely look like that, and the second that I do, Mr. Cabrillo introduces me to someone like you so that I can get knocked-up again.”

“But why does Mr. Cabrillo force you to do that?”

“It is his way of making everyone think that he is a great stud. I guess he is doing what the television psychologists call overcompensating.”

“Have you ever tried to break out of that cycle, Lilly?”

“Are you kidding me? I would jump out of that cycle in a flash if Mr. Cabrillo didn’t threaten to leave me destitute. He has records and photographs of all the affairs that he has forced me to have and would use them against me in a divorce. I wish I had some pictures of him having sex with his oldest daughter or something like that to use on him. He swears that he would take all of my children away from me, although for the older ones, that is less important now.”

“Did you just say that Desiree’s Father abused her sexually?”

“I must be really stoned. Did that pop out of my mouth?”

“Yes it did. Does your oldest daughter have any memory of that?”

“I don’t think so, but I am sure that she hates me for not stepping in and doing something about it. To tell the truth, I was happy that she was taking some of the heat off of me.”

“Now I can see why there is so much pain between you and your stepdaughter,” said my “Dracula” disguise as small bits and pieces of long dormant memories started to flash before my eyes. Maybe this was why Lilly and I had never talked this out. I could understand what my father was doing, now, but I was just beginning to realize what a bastard he had become. “Maybe I should get my wife away from your husband, Lilly.”

“Do that only if you want to keep her, Jacques. If all goes well, she maybe my ticket out of this cow mode that Mr. Cabrillo has me chained to. For now, I am just glad that he is directing his insatiable appetite elsewhere. I would just love to look like your wife and not have to get pregnant again right after this baby is born,” said my Stepmother as she looked off in “Geena Valentina Shafter’s” direction.

“Maybe this is a ticket to freedom for both of us,” said my “Dracula” figure. It was at that moment that I knew that somehow, I would have to verify what I had just learned. That encounter had been a very enlightening and depressing Halloween. Maybe some DNA testing was in order for me as well. Had my father treated my genetic birth mother in the same manner that way he was treating Lilly? Had he sexually abused me when I was a kid after my real mother had died? On my way home from that party, I wondered if Marla and I had done the right thing when we set up Lilly to get half of nothing.

I was glad that Marla was still at the party when I got home. This way I could get out of my Dracula disguise and do some heavy thinking. As I continued this line of thought over the next couple of days I began to think that maybe Lilly was as much a victim as I always felt that I was? Now that I remembered all of his abusive cuddling in my bed when I was little, I wanted to really get even with him and Lilly wasn’t the direct route to his soul at the moment. Maybe my Father had pushed Lilly like she was a lawn mower and I just happened to be the newly mown grass. No, that might have been true in my adolescent years, but that didn’t explain his relationship with me before Lilly came along.

If Lilly was the victim that she claimed to be, and my Father was using Marla like Lilly said that he was, then maybe I would have to arrange some kind of backfire and change the object of most of my revenge fantasies. This way Marla’s “Geena Valentina Shafter” personae wouldn’t wind-up with all the loot as I had originally planned. If she was being manipulated, Marla’s masked image might end up giving everything back to my abusive and sexist Father. If he thought that he was financially secure he really could dump Lilly and leave her destitute.

The questions now were, what kind of backfire should and/or could I arrange and how should and/or could I put it in place without Marla’s or my Father’s knowledge? Formulating this new direction would take longer and more effort that I originally thought. Then again, I had been fomenting and formulating the stuff that I was enacting before Halloween for several years. I guess that a couple of months to reverse or redirect my masked efforts sounded more than reasonable. Since it was not tax time there would not be another heavy and complete audit of the company records and books until the following March. I hoped that window of opportunity was long enough for me to restructure everything fit the situation, as I now understand it.

While working in the family construction business over the next few weeks, I followed up on my investigation of Lilly’s confession to “Jacques Shafter” at the company Halloween party. This was the slow time of year in the construction business and I was able to get to the computer and records undisturbed. Of course, for all intensive purposes, it was my “Julia Sedona” personae that seemed to be doing all of the audit searches and computer work. I had become accustomed to doing this work in my mask and body suit. I was surprised how natural they had become to me at work. The truth is that doing computer work and tedious audits in a mask and gloves is tricky without a lot of tedious practice. Marla, in her “Geena Valentina” disguise, was off drumming up business and contracts for next year with my Father, so I didn’t have to worry about her checking-up on my moves.

Bit by horrible bit I began to peel back the webs of time and verify the various facts of Lilly’s confession and allegations. The more I dug into my past, the more my memory came alive. I had no idea that I had masked myself from these awful realities all of these years. My Father and Lilly had really done a job on me. However, as my anger and resentment for my Father increased, my desire to drop shit all over Lilly decreased. She moved in my mind from the position of the wicked and diabolically evil stepmother to that of a spiteful yet victimized older and less fortunate sister.

On the other hand, while I hated what I found out about my Father in general and what he had done to me personally, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him at that point in time. I guess that is what is meant by true love being that situation where you know the worst possible thing that there is to know about the object of your affection, and it is still all right with you. Yet, in the Ping-Pong sense of reality that this investigation brought on, somehow this paradigm did not transfer to Marla.

I was growing more and more resentful of the time and affection that she was lavishing upon my Father. At first I rationalized that she was doing this to distract him from what I was doing to his books and business papers. Then I noticed that there was less time for Marla and me to be together in our own personaes. I was spending more time talking with Mrs. Jones than Marla was. I began to miss her and then I felt a longing for the time we had together when we first started this project and torpedoed Boomer. I tried on several occasions to talk with Marla about my feelings on this matter, but she just dismissed my questions and declarations as petty jealousy of her superior masking skills.

I tried to tell Marla as well as demonstrate to her that our masking activities had nothing to do with my concerns, although I was tiring of masking everyday and living a double and sometimes triple identity. But when I told her that she had gone beyond where we had agreed for her “Geena Valentina Shafter” persona to go with my Father, she blew up and said that position and concern was no longer any of my business. In this and many other ways, Marla and I became more and more distant.

The point of no return for me with Marla came when she (in her “Geena Valentina Shafter” personae) went off with my Father on a Christmas snow trip while I stepped into the breach and took care of Lilly (in my own personae). And, this was no small event because what I stepped into was the birth of the latest addition to Lilly’s growing brood. I wanted to ask Marla how she justified going on the snow trip. After all, she was supposed to be married to “Jacques Lizard Shafter”, but I figured that I really didn’t want to hear the truth and I didn’t have the stomach for anymore of her lies either.

Then, on the way home from the hospital with my new little sister I said to Lilly, “I was talking with Jacques Shafter, Lilly. He seems concerned that his wife is off on a Christmas snow trip with Dad.”

“Tell him not to worry, Desiree. I was supposed to go on that trip with him. We had planned it over a year ago. Besides, it is all business with your Father. That is why I didn’t feel so bad when I couldn’t go with him. I even asked Geena to fill in for me.”

“You told Geena to go on the trip with my Father?”

“Sure, why not? At least this way, I know whom he is with and I like Geena Shafter. And, bye-the-way, I can’t tell you enough about what a comfort you have been to me during the birthing process of your newest little sister. If your Father had been here, that would not have happened. I feel so bonded to you in a very personal way. In fact, at this very moment, I feel more for you than I ever have for your Father.”

“Are you sure that you should be telling me this, Lilly?”

“I am absolutely sure, Desiree. I made a lot of mistakes with you and you have risen above them to become the woman that I wish that I had become.”

“Wow, Lilly that is wild. Thanks for saying that. You have no idea what hearing that means to me. To be honest, I really enjoyed and learned a lot from watching you.”

“I just wish that I could get back into shape and give Geena Shafter some competition,” declared Lilly while looking down at the new baby that she was carrying in her arms.

“Do you think that I could help you get that shape that you want by being your coach and exercise partner when I am not at work? I know some great exercise routines.”

“That would be just great, Desiree. I would love to give Mrs. Geena Shafter a run for her money, take Jacques away from her and the dump your Father in the middle of a big and very public scene.”

“A few months back I would have definitely been offended by that sentiment on your part, Lilly, but watching my Dad with Mrs. Geena Valentina Shafter has helped me see your point of view. Knowing what I now know, I am wondering why you have waited so long to get things straight with my Father?”

“I have never had the capital to take him on, Desiree. I was just a kid when we were married. I have never had any money that I could really call my own. Even when I worked in my Father’s business, I never got a check and your Father never let me get a job outside of the business. Not to mention, that I was always burdened down with several small children and/or I was pregnant,” said Lilly.

“But I always thought that the construction business belonged to your family, Lilly.”

“It did, but somehow when my father died, your father wound up with everything. All my stuff was in a trust that I couldn’t access. I guess my father did that to protect me. Some distant cousin was a lawyer and managed that money for me. But, last month that relation finally passed away and left me all of his money and the trust assets as well. The only condition is that I must divorce your Dad. Isn’t that weird?” inquired Lilly as she took her sleeping infant off of her breast.

“Yes it is, Lilly.” I was lying of course. There was nothing all that mysterious or weird to this new state of affairs. When I had found out about the trust fund and properties that Lilly’s father had left her, I had moved them into an offshore dummy corporation that I controlled. I was legally the distant deceased cousin that she was referring to. I did this so my Father couldn’t get his greedy hands on the trust funds or properties when he realized that he no longer had any control of the construction firm. This was the only way that I knew of to protect my new little sister from my Father and free Lilly from his domination at the same time. I never thought that the business and accounting courses that I took to complete a double minor would be so important upon graduation.

Lilly had real discipline and stayed on the diet and exercise regime that I designed for her like she was a devotee some religious cult that required minimal body fat. Meanwhile, Lilly also nursed my new little sister and managed the affairs of her other five children that were still living in her house. With each passing day my respect for Lilly’s management capabilities increased. Why hadn’t I seen all of this ability before? Maybe I was still working so hard at burying the sexual abuse laid upon me by Father that I buried the good that Lilly did along with it.

I actually began to enjoy being with Lilly. I even reduced the time that I spent at the construction firm and moved most of my gear out of my new apartment with Marla and moved back into my old room in my Father’s house. My new apartment became a dressing station where I transformed into either “Julia Sedona” or “Jacques Shafter”. Marla and I had picked out this location after we moved out of our college digs. We needed the privacy that our own place afforded us and we didn’t have to be our white roommate’s maids. Marla didn’t question my latest move after I told her that Lilly needed my help with the new baby and that the move was only temporary. I also figured that Marla Jones was so busy with being “Geena Valentina Shafter”, that she didn’t have time to worry about my moves and motives.

Prior to that move, I had always thought of home as my Father’s house when in reality, it was more of a prison for Lilly and me. I realized that things are often masked realities when you don’t pay attention or you are in denial. I only wished that I could have come to these conclusions ten years earlier. My high school and college age years may have been very different. Then again, they might have been worse. I only knew that the opportunity to mask full-time was the situation that was allowing me to develop who I really was. The irony of masking to find ones true self really tickled my fancy.

Being back in my old room in what used to be my Father’s house made even more of my long dormant childhood memories fill my dreams and nightmares. In fact the majority of those imaged filled sleeping sequences were nightmares. I even had to sleep over in my apartment bedroom now and again to get a good night’s sleep. But, the longer I stayed in my old room at the house, the less frequent the nightmares became. The stay at the house also had the benefit that in the morning after the dream/nightmare, I could discuss them with Lilly. Her insight in helping me to separate fact from fantasy proved to be very helpful in getting a better grip upon my life.

As my hours in the construction firmed waned, I had less need to transform into “Julia Valentina Sedona” and thus less reason to use my room at my and Marla’s new apartment. This not only meant that I had even less time to spend with Marla; it also meant that I had time to look for a new job. Since my rent was minimal and Lilly was taking care of most of my personal needs in exchange for the help I was giving her with the kids, I didn’t need to work all that much. However, work was often a welcomed excuse to get out of the house. One of my former roommates had invested in a health club and got me a part time job as an aerobics instructor.

So after several more busy weeks of living and working with Lilly and her younger children, I had my “Jacques Lizard Shafter” persona eventually work “his” way into an faking an affair with my Stepmother on the following Valentines Day. This was not what I had planned all of these years and Lilly was a willing partner instead of a tricked victim. Since I had told Lilly about Rubber Realities when she saw all of the boxes that she helped me move from my closet in my former apartment, I used some of the money from my aerobics job to have Dizzy and Marie make Lilly a body suit. Of course, Lilly had Dizzy and Marie design a body suit that would definitely get my Father’s attention.

Lilly even lost a few extra pounds and worked on her waistline so the suit could be even more extreme than anything that Marla or I had worn. Once again, the staff of Rubber Realities came through and “Jacques” and the new Lilly made an eye-fixating twosome. Cupid couldn’t have created a more loving and joyous looking couple. The oldest kids that were still at the house watched the youngest ones for Lilly while she and my “Jacques” personae went to a Valentine’s Day Ball at the Bow and Bell Club. Lilly was a wonderful dancer and I made sure that “Jacques” showed her off as she made her moves on the dance floor. Lilly had Cupid’s teasing arrows piercing the heartstrings of most of the guys at the ball and many of their partners felt the pain. I found myself wanting to be naked with Lilly too.

I made sure that my Father and relatives found out about the affair while accusing my Father of having an affair with “Mr. Shafter’s wife”. To my total surprise nobody seemed all that surprised by these revelations and my father took this occasion to “confess” to me that during his alleged affair with “Geena Valentina Shafter” that nothing had actually happened because he was sterile.

I don’t know why he felt that I needed to know this bit of news, but then he added that he wasn’t even my genetic father. I am still trying to figure out why he picked this conversation to make this confession. As part of his long rationalizing confession he also declared to me that his sterility was a big secret and that not even my Stepmother knew that he was sterile. He even had the nerve to suggest that he and I could have sex and that it wouldn’t be incest.

I didn’t inform him that he was dead wrong about what he thought was his big secret and that most of the family including the majority of his children knew that he had dead balls. I wanted to tell him that he had less life in his balls than a dead rat, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that I gave even the tiniest shit for him and his little problems. So, I just smiled and faked sympathy for his declaration. I couldn’t believe how easily I was masking my emotions and ignoring his new sexual propositions. I guess that I had Lilly to thank for that. She had reared me to be one tough article.

Unfortunately, my alleged “Father” also picked this moment to unburden his conscience about Marla and several other marital affairs. I guess he thought that if he could make me feel sorry for him that I would become allied with him once again. Or, maybe it was my faked sympathy that made him feel the need to confess. Of course he didn’t know that by now I had remembered all of the sexual abuse that he had done to me when I was a small child. I decided not to inform him of this fact either. So, he went onto confess with glib and incredibly great ease that all of these years he had felt the need to force and trick Lilly into having affairs so that he could have children. I guess he wanted me to feel sorry for him on this topic as well, but he had scared and hurt me way too many times for me to care.

This whole additional and confirming revelation by the man that I had thought to be my biological Father for my entire life, put me into a non-plus situation. Technically when he had raped me as a child, he wasn’t even committing the incest that I had been so ashamed of. The whole reality of this revelation, coupled with Marla’s activities and my new feelings for Lilly, eventually soured me on my desire to take over the family construction firm. I must admit the Marla was an incredibly capable manager, and with my Dad’s knowledge of the business, the firm was growing by leaps and bounds.

I had never really wanted to get into that business anyway and my being at the firm, even on a part time basis was further complicated by the fact that Marla, in her masked “Geena Valentina Shafter” role, had fallen head over heels in love with my “Father”. Of course this killed what little still remained of the personal and masking relationship that I had with Marla. This also made me feel really sad. What I had done with Marla had been so important to my personal development and new sense of freedom. Even though I had gained a new sister of the mask in Lilly, I felt a loss that Marla was no longer the intimate masking sister that Mrs. Jones had unwittingly helped Marla to become.

Having played at being a double and sometimes a triple identity on any given day for more than a year, masking as “Julia Valentina Sedona” was actually getting old for me. I had Rubber Realities make me a couple of back-up body suits and masks that I kept at home and the office just in case something happened to the one that I was wearing. I think that Marla did this as well. Dizzy had even managed to make some wonderful improvements to the design and had incorporated some electronic devices that enhanced my vision, hearing and touch. To be sure, I still got a charge out of the identity switching process. I still marveled how the suit and mask could make me into a person of an entirely different style race and culture. The gender switch along with the cultural and racial switches were especially enjoyable, but now the constant regularity of doing the switches made the process more like work than play.

To be totally honest here, it is one thing to act out a fantasy like I did when I cross-dressed and masked as “Jacques Lizard Shafter”. Doing that was still a lot of fun and I enjoyed the different perspectives and opportunities on life that being a man and playing that role gave to me. I also enjoyed the special time that being “Jacques” gave me with Lilly. On the other hand, being “Julia Valentina Sedona” at work on a daily basis had taken all of the fantasy and fun out of that role. Even though I still got a kick out of being able to do things as “Julia” that might have been extremely compromising to do as Desiree, more and more, the basic joy of masking as “Julia” was becoming a chore.

What I am trying to say here is that I spent at least an hour of each day prepping my masks and suits before putting them on. I guess that if I were applying make-up and cosmetic enhancements so that my own personae could look as glamorous as “Julia Sedona” could, I would probably spend almost as much time doing that. But, I had never really been into that entire multiple lip-gloss and liner, big hair and false eyelash/layered foundation look. Of course, “Julia” appeared to have this look and it paid off for me in the sexist world of building construction. And that is what kept me doing it for so long. I have to tell you that I still enjoy the power that being “Julia Valentina Sedona” gave/gives to me.

Yet, I wasn’t doing “Julia” out of choice anymore. On the occasions where I became “Jacques” I realized how important this “choice” factor was to my masking behavior. At that point in time, I had to be “Julia Valentina Sedona”. Being her was like brushing my teeth or doing my nails. My masking/fantasy world had become routine, mundane, commonplace and necessary. Instead of being a place of freedom and choice, masking as “Julia” had turned into a latex prison with limited options. Then there was always the ever-present risk and danger of blowing my cover or slipping into another personae while appearing to be someone else.

I marveled at the reality where Marla didn’t appear to have any of these conflicts, but then I hadn’t really talked through any of these thoughts with her. This is not to say that I didn’t want to tell Marla how I felt about what we were doing. It is just that the opportunity for doing so never really presented itself. Then there was that matter of trust. I just didn’t know how much my Father knew about Marla’s masking activities. If he did know about them, he never let on. I even wondered if Marla had told him about my role of “Julia Valentina Sedona” and “Jacques Lizard Shafter.” But, I figured that if my “Father” did know about my various masking roles, that it would not be to his advantage to expose me as a fraud and he never did.

After I had stopped masking and being with Marla altogether, I even considered exposing her as the fraud that I had created with the fabulous help of Rubber Realities. But when it came time to really do this, I decided that there wouldn’t be any fun in that either. Actually, it was more fun knowing that my former Father figure was stuck on a Rubber fantasy and didn’t have a clue not to mention, that Lilly named “Geena Valentina Shafter” as a correspondent and the object of my “Father’s” affections when she applied for and got her divorce. He was so wrapped up in his fantasy that he didn’t even contest the divorce or realize that Marla, Lilly and I had taken him to the cleaners.

Besides, if I exposed Marla’s masquerade, who would run my family’s construction firm? Marla had gotten a couple of my alleged younger brothers to become able assistants to her style of management. Lilly’s good physical genes and my “Father’s” selective breeding program had produced a couple of big guys that could have played professional football on an offensive line with Boomer. While they weren’t the brightest bulbs in the cabinet, they followed Marla’s able direction to the letter. The fact that they were infatuated with her “Geena Valentina” looked also gave Marla an edge.

I figured that sooner or later that one of my alleged younger “brothers” would make a play for Marla’s masked image and fuck up my “Father’s” routine, but somehow, Marla has managed to keep this from happening as well. My “Father” has even hinted that I maybe getting a new Stepmother. I hope that Mrs. Jones can figure out how to redirect Marla once again. On the other hand, I guess that if Marla ever tires of my “Father” or figures out what a bastard that he is, she could melt down her “Geena Valentina” image and just walk away from the whole situation. But, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Marla has become too invested in this fantasy.

My heart wasn’t into a career in teaching aerobics anymore than I was into managing the construction firm. I was good at that job and heaven knows that I had the body and the knowledge to make that a successful business if I had wanted to. I might even do that at some point in the future. But for now, I have decided to take some of my savings from my unused car fund and the income from my shares in the construction firm and take an extended trip to Europe. Maybe I could get back into sculpting. I would have enjoyed doing this trip and doing the sculpting bit with Lilly, but she still had a really large family that needed her constant attention. And, while most of my “Father’s” income was going to support his extended brood of alleged children and he was an attentive Father for his younger “sons”, Lilly never let him be around my little “sisters” without supervision. I guess that she had finally learned from the mistakes that she had made with me.

Maybe I will find a masked Valentine and sexual partner in Europe. If not, it might also be fun to have a life outside of the world of masks and body suits. Thus, Mr. and Mrs. Shafter got a masked divorce during an alleged trip to Mexico. Then I set out for Europe and a new start on life after I put all of my wonderful masking gear in a secured storage facility. I didn’t throw my gear in the trash because one day I was sure that my masked obsession would find the courage and energy to re-ignite the Valentine romance of masked gender bending in my life.