Ok, let me just say that this is a long over due capback for Sammie. I try and glance over her preferences every now and then in hopes that inspiration will strike, but it usually doesn't.
Luckily, Sammie and I have a lot of similar tastes: disguises, impersonation, crossdressing, feminine charms and guiles, redheads, and last but not least, old Hollywood glamour. So while perusing through her list of leading ladies she'd enjoy being, I came across the above GIF of Eleanor Parker. It captivated my attention, but it wasn't until a few days later when I was working out that the entire story came to me. It took another several days before I finally had time to pen it down, and then another few before I had the time to assemble it all together.
Something I'm particularly proud of in this caption is the color image below the animation. Believe it or not, the original image is actually black and white. The color was added digitally by yours truly. This is the first time I've done anything like it, so I'm pretty excited about that!
Countess Christine Hennessey has never looked better if I do say so myself, Nate thought smugly, admiring his fully transformed reflection—a perfect impersonation. No one would ever guess what true indelicate features lay concealed beneath the pounds of practically professionally applied makeup and medical grade latex.
Even the Countess’ beauty mark smiled high from the angle of her left cheek, precisely where it belonged. The Countess‘ other slight bodily imperfections had also been replicated with equal faith. Quite a shame really, given that Nate knew exactly how to fix them.
It was just as well however, given that all the Countess’ garments, including the fabulous gown Nate would be wearing this evening, were custom-tailored and would thus only fit the Countess’ exact 36B-26-36 measurements. Something Nate had disappointingly discovered when the first pair of breast forms he had chosen proved too extravagant for her dainty lingerie.
The dress was still warm as Nate slid into the emerald silk cocoon, freshly pilfered from the Countess’ body, which lay sedated next to him. Her scent immediately enveloped him, masking and becoming his, as he zipped up the back. A few spritz of the perfume found in her clutch however were added just for good measure. In the background, Nate could hear the rhythmic pumps of the chloroform ventilator working, ensuring that the real Countess wouldn’t miss any of her things until Nate no longer had use for them.
From across the room, Nate caught the eyes Floyd Benton, his client, trying not to stare, but doing so rather conspicuously. Floyd straightened up as soon as he realized he’d been noticed. “Are you sure no one will know you’re not her?”
“Relax, I’m a professional,” Nate replied in a voice that was distinctly the Countess’, complete with the occasional trace of a Newcastle twang. Though her soprano pitch was slightly beyond his range, he’d still managed to master her timbre with the help of a special throat spray that constricted his vocal cords. Nate, now completely in character, glanced over his shoulder at Floyd and lowered his chin demurely.
Save for the brief uptick of his brow, Floyd’s face remained expressionless, but Nate could tell Floyd had completely bought into the disguise by the large growing bulge at his crotch. And to think, all it had taken was a toss of her hair and a few bats of her thick fake lashes.
“Just make sure that the Count doesn’t suspect a thing, and the job gets done.”
“Don’t worry,” Nate cooed knowingly in Countess Hennessy’s voice, sashaying towards the door. “I always guarantee client satisfaction. I’ll make sure you get what you want by the end of the night, one way or another…”