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Instead of My Sister Ch. 01

By: Misslexia



For two years I was the apple of my Mother's eye. Then my sister was born. Since then I have come a poor second in the pecking order. Once our Parents got divorced and Dad moved away, things got even worse. 

With money being tight, Mum has always had to be careful, but when a cutback needs to be made guess who always gets cut? That's right, me. Some things I can cope with. For instance I don't really mind that I haven't been able to get a haircut at a barber's for years now. I quite like wearing my hair long and Mum prefers it that way. I like making her happy when I can. Some things are more embarrassing though.

When my last decent pair of boxers wore out several months ago I asked Mum if I could have some new underwear. 'Of course' she said. She disappeared into her room and reappeared; holding two pale blue pairs ... of lace trimmed panties.

'These are from a pack I bought for Jessica, but you can have the blue ones.'

Not wanting to make a fuss I took them and wore them. They are a bit snug and, when they see me wearing them, Jess and Mum tease me a bit, but I can cope. The knickers did start a bit of a recurring theme. When I told Mum I didn't have any vests to wear she produced a pink strap top!

Things began to get really weird last summer,four months after my 18th birthday and a few weeks before Jessica took her school examinations. It became clear that she was struggling with maths, which was a problem as the job she was hoping to get when she left school needed her to pass both English and maths. Hoping to earn some credit I offered to help by tutoring my sister.

'Well we think you can help, but we've got something else in mind' replied Mum.

My jaw dropped further and further towards the floor as she outlined the plan, which was, in short, that I should 'help' by impersonating my sister and sitting the exams for her!

I tried to object but one by one my objections were over-ruled. It was true that with my long hair we looked alike. It was true that, since she was tall for a girl and I was short for a boy, we were about the same height and of a similarly slim build. It was also true that I would be certain to pass the exam whereas she might not.

'It's the best way you can help, Peter, do it for you sister and for me.'

I was in a hopeless situation. I couldn't think of a reason they would agree with and to flatly refuse would be letting down my sister and that would make Mum very cross. One day an analyst will earn loads of money trying to sort out the problems caused by the fact that even though she so obviously favoured my sister, I still wanted so badly to make my Mum happy. I agreed.

I had a week to perfect my impersonation. That evening I was made to swap my own clothes for an outfit more 'suitable'. This was rather humiliating. Stripped to the pretty blue panties I was already wearing I had to stand there and be dressed, like a mannequin in a shop window. Certain that I would agree, Mum had already padded an old bra of Jessica's and I was strapped into it. It was a simple white cotton bra, but it served to give me a bust. For what seemed like ages I had to stand there in bra and panties while Mum and Jessica debate over what I should wear. Eventually they agreed on a simple white blouse and a short blue skirt, on the grounds that it was most like the uniform I would have to wear the following week. I was made to wear an old pair of Jessica's flat shoes and then, once Mum had brushed my hair into a plausible style, for the rest of the evening that was it: I was now Jessica! Well not exactly. They both called me Jessica, so I could get used to it but I still had to do all my own chores and do the usual favours for the real Jessica, but if I didn't do it in a feminine enough way, or in a way that matched her style I was criticized. By the end of the evening my impression of my sister was getting quite good. Part of the time was spent copying from an old exercise book of hers so I could recreate her writing.

I actually quite enjoyed myself. The outfit was surprisingly comfortable and to be completely honest it felt quite nice to wear. It was also nice to get praise from Mum when ever I did something particularly well.

The following evening the ritual was repeated, except that this time I was made to wear Jessica's school uniform, once she had changed out of it. This consisted of a fitted white blouse, a maroon jumper, a short, pleated gray skirt and white ankle socks. Oddly, I also had to wear a maroon pair of gym briefs, as this was still part of the uniform requirements. These were a bit snug, but, on the plus side, they served to squash any unfortunate bulges! Mum did my hair again and this time she put on a small amount of make-up (as set down in the uniform code). With the discrete application of some foundation, eye shadow and lipstick I looked, and felt, even more feminine. The look of pure joy in mum's eyes as she admired her handiwork made me happy – even though it was only because I looked like a copy of my sister.

For the rest of the week before the exam I dressed in my sisters clothes every day. I became quite accustomed to wearing short skirts and seeing myself with feminine curves. The highlight of the week was a shopping trip, dressed as Jessica, with Mum to the local mall. Before the trip I had to be given the full treatment. My not-very hairy legs were waxed, my eyebrows plucked and shaped. Once I was made-up as I looked at my reflection even I found it hard to believe I was looking at me. Even so it was a little scary how completely Mum treated me as Jessica. I had never felt so loved and in-tune with Mum before that evening. Okay, I was pretending to be my sister, looking at dresses and high-heeled shoes, but I was getting the attention normally reserved for my sister.

Did I say 'looking' at dresses and high-heeled shoes? Make that 'trying on' Going into the changing rooms of the clothes shop and coming out into the shop wearing the blue dress we'd chosen, so Mum could see how it looked! . Slipping on my first pair of high heels and walking up and down in the shoe shop! Both items looked great, so great that, somewhat bizarrely, Mum bought them! I was going to protest that I didn't actually need them, but Mum was so pleased with them I kept quiet, assuming that she could bring them back for a refund or, more likely, give them straight to my sister.

The day of the exam arrived. It was in the afternoon, so I had all morning to prepare... and all morning to get nervous! Could we really get away with it? The first two parts of the plan went perfectly. I arrived, as planned, a fraction late. All the other candidates were seated ready to start. I went in and took my seat without having to talk to any of Jessica's friends - or should that be my friends? Part two, the exam itself, went perfectly to plan. My handwriting matched Jessica's perfectly and I knew I had enough right to pass the exam. Then things began to go wrong a few minutes before the end of the exam.

I was checking my work through when I became aware of someone standing by my desk.

"Come with me, Jessica"

It was the deputy head-master Mr. Brown. He was a small, bearded man with the first signs of middle-aged spread showing round his waist. Obediently I followed him out of the exam room, very conscious that the eyes of everyone in the hall were in us, and along the corridors to his office. Neither of us spoke. Inside I was in a panic – what did he want to see me for? In his office we were joined by Miss Carlton, one of the senior teachers. She was older than Mr. Brown, but still slim and elegantly dressed in a flattering skirt suit, wearing very high heels.

"Let's be honest, shall we?" Mr. Brown said, "Whilst we will concede that you look very much like the real Jessica, we are firmly of the opinion that you are not, in fact, the real Jessica." I started to protest, but he cut me short. "The real Jessica has never got through an entire maths exam with out asking countless stupid questions, nor has she produced such excellent work. Shall we call the police to sort out your true identity?"

The police! They had to be bluffing. Dumbly I shook my head.

"We have a suggestion that you should consider. Clearly with you taking the exam the real Jessica will pass, which is good for her, but it is also good for us, since it will help us hit the ridiculous targets the government sets us. However you cannot go unpunished. Initially we propose a spanking, which Miss Carlton will administer. What do you say to that Jessica?" He made that annoying gesture of miming the inverted commas he was placing around my current name.

I thought quickly and realized that I had no choice.

"If I agree to be spanked, it'll be the end of the matter?"

"I said 'initially'. They may be other, um, matters to attend to."

I nodded my head and took a deep breath.

"Come over to the desk, bend forward, resting your forearms on the desk." 

I took my place bend over the desk. Miss Carlton raised my skirt to reveal my bottom, tightly covered by the maroon briefs. The she went to work bringing her hand sharply down on my bum with a loud slap; it hurt even worse than it sounded. I yelped.

"Silence girl!" she ordered, "That one will not count."

You know the phrase 'six of the best'. That's what I got, each one more painful than the last as the pain burned like fire. Also, in between each slap, her hand lingered on my bottom, almost caressing it.

I realized that by looking at the glass-fronted display case in front of me, I could clearly see their reactions. Judging by the smile on her face Miss Carlton was enjoying herself very much. So too was Mr. Brown. He was staring intently at my exposed rear and by the way his hand kept moving to his crotch I could tell that he was quite aroused by the sight.

After the last slap I was ordered by Miss Carlton to stand up and cover myself up. I stood there waiting, unsure of what would come next. I soon found out.

"You've caused me a bit of a problem young lady," Mr. Brown began, and he gestured down to his crotch, where his arousal was plain to see. "What do you propose to do about it for me? Remember, of course, that you need to keep us both happy."

I hesitated, unsure of his intentions.

"Perhaps it's a shame the young lady wasn't taking an O-level examination this afternoon!" joked Miss Carlton.

I felt my knees tremble. I understood the reference. I'd seen postcards in telephone booths where prostitutes would advertise that they had 'O and A levels'. At first I had wondered why they were advertising exam results, perhaps they thought their clients might want clever women, but I heard some friends talking about it and found out O stood for oral sex and A stood for anal sex.

I didn't fancy performing oral sex on Mr. Brown, but there didn't seem to be much option. I decided to take the initiative before they suggested anything even less appealing.

"I suppose I could help with that Mr. Brown, if you gave me some guidance." I moved towards where he was leaning against the edge of a desk and knelt before him, trying to keep up the feminine act. I reminded myself of two things. I couldn't let Mum down causing Jessica to fail the examination and it was the sight of my bottom being spanked that had caused his excited state.

Reluctantly I unzipped his trousers and on his prompting undid his belt to allow his trousers to fall down around his ankles. He had on a hideous pair of boxers that may once have been white but now were a dingy off-white. There was a damp patch where his pre-cum hand leaked out onto them. I helped his cock out of the boxers where it sprang to attention. Putting off the moment I had to take it in my mouth for as long as possible I cupped his balls in one hand and stroked it with the other, firmly enough to pull back his foreskin. From the soft moaning he made Mr. Brown was enjoying himself and I began to think that I might be able to make him cum without having to put his cock in my mouth.

I was wrong. I felt his hands on the back of my head, pulling me forwards and only by reacting quickly did I make it go into my unwilling mouth and not poke me in the eye. I nearly gagged as his cock thrust forwards into my mouth, but, luckily, I still had his balls cupped in one hand and my other hand was wrapped around his cock. In this way I managed to control his thrusts and force his foreskin back even further. Bravely I began to tease the exposed head of his cock with my tongue, tasting his salty pre-cum.

Then in a flash he came, squirting hot cum into my mouth. I didn't know what to do and faced with the dilemma decided that trying to swallow it was my best bet. In between moans he muttered "Good girl!" so I guess I made the right choice. Luckily after a couple of spurts he was finished, so swallowing it wasn't a problem and it didn't taste too bad. Next Miss Carlton was offering me a tissue and he was pulling up his trousers.

"We'll consider the matter closed then 'Jessica'" he said again miming the inverted commas. "Off you go."

As I opened the office door I turned and said "Thank you Mr. Brown. Thank you Miss Carlton." Looking at their smug, satisfied faces I had done a good job.

Mum was waiting in the car. "Where have you been?" she asked.

"It's a long story" I replied.

She listened intently all the way home. Once out of the car and in our house, she held me in a tight embrace.

"I love you and thank you for doing all those extra things. Go up to your room and change, I've got a surprise for you."

On my bed was the blue dress, some sheer black tights and the high heels. My heart leapt. Amazingly I was thrilled by the fact that Mum wanted me to dress in such pretty things. Swiftly I took off the school uniform and pulled on the tights, being careful not to snag or ladder them. I slipped on the dress and then sat down to try on the shoes. I made my way down stairs, adapting to the high heels with greater ease than I had anticipated.

"You look beautiful!" exclaimed Mum. "I'm taking you out for a meal at that new restaurant as a treat." As we walked out of the house I found myself hoping that I'd get more chances to dress like this in the future...


Instead of My Sister Ch. 02



Nearly two years had passed since the time I had taken the place of my younger sister in the exam room. Now aged 20, I still lived at home, with my Mum and Jessica, my 'little' sister. Our deception had mixed results. On one hand it allowed Jessica to get the grades needed to start the college course she wanted, which was good. On the other hand there was the effect it had on me. Dressed in my sister's school uniform I had experienced things I couldn't have imagined doing! In order to keep the plan working I had allowed myself to be spanked by one teacher and sucked the cock of another. The memories of those events still whirled in my head, prompting conflicting and confused emotions, but the greater memory of all was the way my Mum had responded to my sacrifice: she had been pleased with me in a way I hadn't known for years and I yearned for this approval constantly.

Whenever I was alone in the house I developed the habit of slipping upstairs and trying to recapture the feeling by dressing up. My outfits were nothing too elaborate. Some of the items I had kept from the first time. There was the simple white cotton bra, still with the padding Mum had put in it. The blue panties I had worn were still in my underwear drawer. In the uniform I had worn white ankle socks. I decided these were too childish to wear now so I had bought a pair of black tights, which I kept hidden under the other items in my drawer.

The risky part was the rest of the outfit. Since I had nothing that was suitable I had to borrow from my sister. Each time I borrowed a blouse, a skirt and shoes from my sister's wardrobe.

Once dressed my routine was always the same. I still had my long hair and I would carefully style it as best I could. I wasn't confident enough of putting everything back into the right place to risk using either my mum or my sister's make-up, although I longed to. I would simply read a book or listen to music, taking the opportunity to enjoy the memories evoked by the feel of the feminine clothes. The swish of the tights against the skirt lining as I moved; the feminine curves of my false breasts; the shape of my legs when wearing the heeled shoes - it was bliss!

I always made sure I was changed back well before Mum and Jessica returned home, being careful to replace the borrowed items carefully. Or so I thought. A couple of months ago I guess I must have got a little careless. Shortly after they got back I was confronted in the lounge.

"What have you been up to this evening Peter?" asked Mum in a tone of voice that made it clear she knew I had been up to no good. Jessica stood beside her, wearing a smug grin. I felt uneasy and had the feeling I was busted. I opted for the 'truthful but leaving out the details' answer.

"Just sitting here reading."

"And what were you wearing? Was it one of Jessica's fitted white short sleeve blouses and her short black pleated skirt?" Mum asked, with the confident air of someone who knows the answer to her question already.

"And were you wearing these shoes?" Jessica added, holding the very pair of black sling-backs I'd been wearing.

I didn't answer. Annoyingly I began to cry, just like a girl. Mum comforted me, telling me that they had suspected what I was up to for a while and that they had set up a small web-cam in Jessica's room, linked to her lap-top to confirm their suspicions. I was expecting to be told off, or ridiculed. I didn't expect what happened next.

"In future" Mum began, "I want you to confine your dressing up to times when you and I are here together, when Jessica's out with her friends. I can help you fix your hair and teach you about make-up; it'll be much more fun than you dressing up alone." She placed her hand caringly on my shoulder as she said this.

"I've sorted out some of my clothes and shoes that I don't need any more. I've put them on your bed. You can keep them in your room and you won't have to borrow mine anymore!" added Jessica.

It seemed weird; my mum and my sister helping me to carry on dressing up as a girl, but I wasn't going to complain. When Jessica was out, I would get dressed up and spent quality time with my Mum. Okay you could quibble that it wasn't entirely healthy for me to be dressed as my sister and for us to be discussing make-up, fashion, the best methods of hair removal and that sort of girly stuff, but I didn't care one bit. For each of those evenings, those glorious few hours, I was making my Mum happy!

Perhaps I should have expected it, but after a couple of months Mum asked me to take Jessica's place once again. This time it was her driving test. She drove well enough in her lessons, but the first time she took her test she had a bit of a panic attack and failed miserably. Their chosen solution was, of course, for me to take the test instead of my sister.

Her driving lessons had been a source of irritation to me. Mine had been paid for by me, out of the wages I had earned in my lowly paid supermarket job. My sister's had been paid for completely by Mum. However to keep Mum happy I agreed.

On the day my nerve nearly went. The clothes Jessica and I were comfortable in were different. I favoured her former style, pretty and feminine, but her new style was heading towards what I thought was a bit tarty. Her skirts were tight and short, her blouses low cut and figure hugging, often cropped to reveal her belly-button! Even to take her test that's what she insisted on me wearing. I was most reluctant, but Mum talked me round. So I wore the pink blouse that tied under my bust and I wore the tight, black, Lycra mini skirt. Mum had produced a new more convincingly padded bra for me to wear and the blouse was arranged to make my new bust look convincing. I felt very exposed by the gap between the blouse and the skirt, although my waist did look slim and very feminine. I had to wear a very tight pair of knickers to trap my cock between my legs, just as the gym knickers I wore before had done. I wanted to wear a pair of shiny natural-coloured tights, for added security as it were, but Jessica wanted me to wear the black lace-top stockings that she favoured. Luckily Mum agreed with me. For driving she always wore a pair of flat black pumps, so I did too. Once Mum had fixed my hair and make-up I was ready for the instructor to arrive.

'Bro?' Jessica said in an ominous tone of voice. 'There's something I need to tell you.' She paused then blurted out her news. 'To save some money I've been, um, doing 'things' for the instructor.'

'What things?' I asked, dreading the answer.

'Well so far I've given him a few hand-jobs. You know wanking him off. But...' she paused. I waited as the silence grew. I prompted her.

'But what?'

'Well, um, I've kind of promised to give him a blow-job today.'

I was about to protest, complain to Mum, but at that moment a car horn tooted outside and I was bundled out of the door to face Clive, the driving instructor.

The look Clive gave me as I got in the car made two things very clear. He hadn't spotted the substitution and neither had he forgotten Jessica's promise. Although this was the pre-test lesson designed to put the candidates at ease, he wasted no time in putting his had on my thigh before I had even turned the key in the ignition and he proceeded to direct me to a car-park on the edge of a thickly-wooded park. It was quite deserted but we parked in the corner furthest from the entrance.

His hand stroked my thigh again.

"So Jessica I think it's time for you to fulfil your part of the bargain." Just in case the sleazy leer he gave me wasn't enough to make it clear what he expected, he proceeded to unzip his fly, take out his already hardening cock and place my hand on it. I began to stroke his cock, then, wrapping my fingers around it I gave it a few firm tugs, pulling his foreskin back a little further with each downward movement.

This wasn't enough for Clive. Pulling my head down towards his cock he said "Come on Darling, get sucking, we haven't got all day!"

Trying not to get caught on the handbrake and the gear stick, I twisted in the seat and bent over. I tried not to think of myself taking his cock into my mouth, but rather as if I was Jessica doing it -- Clive thought it was! One of his hands stayed on the back of my head, pushing it back down, forcing his cock deeper into my mouth, whenever I tried to pull away. Alarmingly his other hand began to stroke my thigh, getting higher and higher. Although it felt nice being stroked through the sheer material of the tights, I didn't want him exploring any higher! I focussed on his cock, teasing the tip with my tongue and forcing his foreskin back with my teeth and lips. All the time he was muttering to himself things like "yes", "that feels good, babe" and (my least favourite of all) "come on you little cock sucking slut".

I was praying for him to cum, but when he did I almost wished he hadn't! His hot salty cum squirted into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. He was holding my head down so I had no choice but to swallow. As I did I sucked his cock further into my mouth which he loved! Eventually he stopped twitching, and let go. I don't know what came over me next; I found myself licking the last stray drops of cum off his cock as if I were licking a lollipop. I sat up and swallowed the last remnants.

"Fucking brilliant babe! Now let's get to the test centre." With that he tucked his cock back into his trousers, zipped himself up and reached into the glove compartment. "Want one?" He was offering me an extra-strong mint. I took one, eager to remove the taste from my mouth.

I felt tears welling in my eyes. I was confused and a bit numb. I felt used. All he had cared about was him. Also I was a bit surprised to find that I had enjoyed having my leg stroked while I was doing it, it had quite turned me on. I drove to the test centre following his instructions on a kind of auto-pilot. At the centre I escaped into the loo, the ladies of course, and sat there for a while trying to regain my composure.

A few minutes after I rejoined him in the waiting room an examiner called out my name. Well my sister's name, but you know what I mean. I lead him to the car. Before we drove off he introduced himself as Nigel and carefully checked my driving license. There was a photo of my sister, but it was small and we looked enough alike for me not to be concerned. I drove off and the test was underway.

After about 10 minutes Nigel asked me to pull over in the next safe place.

"Well congratulations... Jessica."

The noticeable pause before he added Jessica and the slight emphasis he placed on the name alerted me that something was wrong.

"What do you mean?"

"You drive very well and you make an excellent girl. However now we need to discuss what happens next."

His comment about making an excellent girl made it clear he suspected the truth but I had no choice but to bluff. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Now Jessica, don't be difficult. In one way you're unlucky, but in another you're very lucky."

"I don't understand."

"Impersonating a driving test candidate is a very serious offence. I suspect that you are not the real Jessica, but a close relative." He paused for a moment then added "A close, male relative."

I blushed deeply, but hoped to bluff my way out of it.

"That's an outrageous suggestion!"

"That's where you've been unlucky. I am probably the only examiner who could be certain enough to make such an accusation. You see I have several close friends who are trans-gender, like you. Although you make an extremely convincing woman, at this close range, if you know the tell tale signs, and I do, such a deception in very difficult, so I am almost certainly correct."

This was a new predicament for me. I was flattered that he thought I was extremely convincing, but what was he going to do?

"So I'm going to give you a choice. Either you can protest your innocence and we'll let the police decide or you can consider my alternative."

Once again I had no choice. "What have you got in mind, Nigel?" I said in as encouraging tone as I could manage.

"Well Jessica," he began...

Five minute later I was parked in virtually the same spot in the same secluded car park as before. This time we got out of the car. As we reached the front he put his arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. Passionately, almost roughly, he began to kiss me; on the lips, on my cheeks and on my neck. At the same time his hands roved over my body, stroking the exposed part of my belly and my back, squeezing my bum and caressing my thighs, raising my skirt as he did.

I was overwhelmed. I should have felt repulsed, but his passionate caresses were a turn on. He wanted me! Before I knew what I was obeying his urgings and pulling down my tights and panties to expose my bottom to him. I glanced round. He had put a condom on his cock and had a small tube of gel.

"This'll help," he said as he began to rub the gel around my virgin bum-hole. I moaned involuntarily as his finger pressed against me, forcing its way in a little. Disappointingly he pulled it away, but a moment later he replaced it with something much fatter; his cock! 

As I bent over the bonnet of the car, he began to push forward, holding onto my hips as he did, pulling me back as he pushed forward. At first his cock just pressed hard at my bum. It wasn't probing as deep as his finger had reached but it was making my head swim in anticipation. Then, in an instant, he pushed a little harder and the tip of his cock forced my bum wide open and he slid in. I let out another moan; it felt strange and wonderful all at the same time.

"God that feels good, you're so fucking tight" he muttered, He began to rock backwards and forwards and I couldn't help myself; I began to match his rhythm, pushing back as he pushed forward. Soon he was sliding deep, deep inside me. I glanced down, between my 'boobs', he was pushing in so deep that it felt as if I would see his cock pushing out the front of my slim tummy, but of course I couldn't. My cock was as hard as it had ever been, slightly trapped in my knickers, the tip rubbing against the material with every movement. Then he gave a loud moan, his cock twitched and he slumped over, pinning me against the car bonnet. With almost painful swiftness, he pulled his cock from my bum and that was it. I bit my lip in sorrow: I wanted more, I wanted to cum with him inside me, but he was gone.

"Hurry up and get dressed, we've got to get back to the test centre."

Getting my self redressed wasn't at all easy. My still hard, aching cock did not want to be tucked between my legs and held snugly in place by my knickers and tights. I was quite painful and until it subsided I had a most unladylike bulge. By the time we reached the test centre I was decent again. I was still sore, physically and mentally, on the verge of tears. Almost unbelievably Clive was aware enough of my highly emotional state and he offered to drive me home. I sat there, saying nothing but with a head full of thoughts and feelings, clutching the paperwork to say that Jessica had passed her driving test.

At home, Jessica was delighted and quickly went out for a drive in mum's car. Mum could see that, although I was trying not to show it, I was upset.

'Tell me what's up, Darling' she said holding me in a maternal embrace.

She listened as, between my tears, I poured out my story. She made sympathetic noises and assured me that everything would be alright, telling me how proud she was of me and I began to feel better.

That evening as I got ready for bed, I began to wonder how soon I would be asked again to do something instead of my sister... and I secretly hoped it would be soon!



Instead of My Sister Ch. 03



After taking my sister's place on her driving test almost another year passed before my next opportunity to take her place. A month before we had moved as a family to a new part of the country where Mum had found a good job although we had yet to make any friends. I was still doing a minimum wage job in a supermarket, whilst Jessica was away on a holiday in Spain, before she started a new secretarial job at a firm of solicitors next week.

I still dressed up when I could. I did think I'd have the chance to go out and about, but Mum and Jessica didn't want me to, in case someone saw me and thought I actually was Jessica. That was only a good thing when it suited them. For now my dressing-up was restricted to the odd evening staying in and keeping Mum company.

The phone message that changed everything came on Saturday morning, while we were both out. From the time on the answer-phone it had been made shortly before Jessica was due to fly back. The line was bad but the message was clear. Apparently Jessica had injured herself in an accident, not too badly, but badly enough not to fly home. She might be able to get a flight on Monday or Tuesday, but wouldn't be home to start work on Monday. As I listened my stomach began to tingle with butterflies of excitement as my mind raced ahead to the inevitable request. It came right at the end of the message.

"Can Peter cover for me until I get home?"

The message ended abruptly, with the sound of pips indicating that the caller had run out of credit. There was no doubt in my mind how my weekend and the start of next week were going to be spent! Mum's planning skills went into overdrive. After a frenzied hour of internet browsing, telephone directory thumbing and phone calls, she was on her way to a nearby super shopping mall, whilst I was on my way to the shower, armed with some hair removal cream and the instruction not to wash my hair.

I was out of the shower wondering what I should wear, when mum returned. She explained that she had made the arrangements for me to make the best imitation of Jessica ever. The rest of the day was all such a whirl, its hard for me to remember all the details in the right order!

First there were two items designed to enhance my appearance. One was something called a 'gaff', a cross between a g-string and a jock strap, which was to be worn under my knickers and designed to keep my cock tucked safely between my legs. The other item, or should that be items, were a pair of fabulous synthetic breasts, that Mum swiftly stuck on my chest using some adhesive. She assured me that the glue was strong enough for me to go bra-less and would last up to 48 hours and probably longer if I was careful. Soon I was experiencing the feeling of 'loading' them into my bra. They were fabulous! They moved as I breathed, bounced slightly as I walked and accurately weighted to match the real thing; they looked frighteningly real. They actually took quite a bit of getting used to, but added to the realism. I spent the rest of Saturday perfecting my walk, trying on the clothes I would wear to work. Mum had treated me to several new matching bra and panty sets, all in pretty pastel shades with a lacy trim. With the new false boobs I looked and felt so curvaceously feminine, although their weight meant it took me a while to get used to walking in high heels.

We spent Sunday quietly. There was no news from Jessica and our attempts to contact her at her hotel were foiled by our inability to speak Spanish. I spent the day at home, wondering about the next day. I was so nervous I could hardly sleep!

I woke well before my alarm went off. Mum was up too, watching my preparations carefully, making sure my hair and make-up were perfect. I was wearing a tailored white long-sleeved blouse and a skirt suit, with a fitted jacket and a short skirt. In truth I felt the skirt was a little too short, but it was what Jessica would wear so I had no choice. I carried a matching black handbag and wore a pair of shiny black high-heels. As I walked to the bus stop the heels clicked wondrously on the pavement and I felt so contented.

The first thing I noticed was the difference in people's reactions to me. Before I had been trying so hard not to be noticed and I had wanted to get the deception over as soon as possible. Now I had more confidence. It started with the bus driver. I recognized him as I had often caught his bus to work, as Peter. He never spoke or showed any interest as I paid him.

Today, I got a smile, a 'morning' and my hand squeezed as he handed me my change. I was also fairly sure that he had been staring at my breasts. Normally it was hard to find a seat as men often sprawled over both seats. Now, two of them sat up, clearing the space next to them. An older woman took advantage and nipped into the first seat. I took the second one, which meant sliding past the guy into the window seat. I know his hand brushed my bum as I did and I'm pretty certain it wasn't an accident. As the journey went on his hand somehow found itself resting against the side of my leg, just below where my skirt ended. I generously ignored these incidents; pondering for a moment to wonder what his reaction would be if he knew the truth, I turned my attention to the view out of the window, watching out for my stop.

I got off at my stop and walked along the high street to the solicitors' office. I paused to read the shiny brass plate by the door: 'Jenkins & Jenkins Solicitors'. I knew it was Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, but that was all. I took a deep breath and tried the door. It was locked. I didn't want to be late on my first day, or on Jessica's first day to be precise, but I didn't know what to do. I saw a doorbell and rang it.

A tall elegant woman answered the door. "You must be Jessica, I'm Catherine Jenkins." She held out her hand, with beautifully manicured nails, and we shook hands. The touch of her hand made my tummy flutter delightfully; I realized that I quite fancied her! Once inside I was introduced to Mr. Jenkins ("Call me Michael, unless we're with a client"). He flashed me a brilliant white smile that did credit to his dentist. To my surprise my tummy gave another little flutter. Michael was much nicer that the horrible weasel-like driving instructor or the slimy test examiner; I realized that I quite fancied him too!!

The morning passed uneventfully, as I began with some filing, some note taking and a little typing. As I went to get a sandwich for lunch I began to think that this might end up being quite easy!

In the afternoon I took a letter into Mr. Jenkins for him to sign. I ended up standing next to his chair as we looked at the letter and, to my amazement he began stroking the back of my leg, right up my thigh to the hemline of my skirt! My tummy fluttered again; it felt so nice, I was actually sad when he stopped. As I sat at the reception desk I kept replaying the moment over and over in my head.

We closed to clients at 5pm. Michael called me into his office.

"Well Jessica, not to bad for a first day, but you were five minutes late back from lunch." He went on to explain that I was on a week's trial and poor punctuality might be held against me. "Unless, um, no" he muttered, "I couldn't really ask you to do that."

"What Mr. Jenkins? I really need this job. Tell me what I could do." My mind was racing with possibilities as I said this.

"When my Father founded the firm, he used to administer reasonable physical chastisement for small misdemeanors like being late. If you were to sign this form accepting reasonable physical chastisement then we could overlook the lateness and administer a small spanking as your punishment."

My mind whirled; a spanking from Michael!

I heard myself saying, "Well Mr. Jenkins, if it will help me keep my job, I'd be happy to sign the form."

In a flash, he'd printed out a form for me to sign, I'd signed it, without even reading it, he had called Mrs. Jenkins in from her office and I was bent over, with my forearms resting on the desk waiting for my punishment.

"On this occasion, as it is the first time, you may keep your skirt in place," he said and with that he spanked me! He administered five, firm slaps, one for each minute, his hand lingering just a fraction on my bum after each slap.

"Thank you Mr. Jenkins" I said as when he finished.

The next day I made sure I was not late. I didn't want the Jenkins' to think that I wanted to be spanked, even if, secretly, I did. I started the day off taking notes for a client meeting. The client was a bit of a tart in my opinion. All fur coat and no knickers as my Mum might have said. To be fair I don't know for certain that she owns a fur coat, but from the number of times she crossed and uncrossed her long, tanned legs plus the shortness of her dress, I do know she didn't wear any knickers. After she'd gone Mr. Jenkins asked me to return to his office to show him my notes.

Once again I found myself standing by his side, at his desk and once again he began to stroke my leg, further up this time, beyond my hemline!

"That bloody woman, she always leaves me all flustered, flashing everything like that!" he exclaimed as he stood up. "Blast!"

"What's the matter Michael?"

"She's given me a bloody erection and my next client is due any minute. I'll never be able to concentrate."

"Can I help at all?" I said in a small voice.

"Not unless you're offering me a quick blow job!"

Trembling with anticipation and amazed at my own sluttish behaviour, I knelt down in front of him. I looked up through my fringe and said softly "Anything to help, Mr. Jenkins."

With his help I freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and pants. I let out a startled gasp. His cock, fully erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum, was much bigger than the others. I lowered my head and began to lick his monster cock from tip to balls and back again, before I tried to take it into my mouth. Using my lips to grasp it firmly, I felt his foreskin slid back and his exposed tip brushing against the back of my throat. I made a conscious effort to relax and his thrusting pushed his cock deeper and deeper. Sucking hard and swallowing seemed to be having a good effect as he let out moans of pleasure.

I heard a voice in my ear. It was Catherine!

"If you could be quick, Jessica, I have a client due shortly and I need you. By the way, make sure you swallow it all, I don't want my husband's suit needing the cleaners."

I was completely flustered and, to add to my confusion, Michael chose that moment to release his cum, filling my mouth. With each squirt his cock twitched, making it hard for me to keep things under control, but I swallowed as fast as I could and just coped. I finished by licking his cock clean as he let out a satisfied sigh. He handed me a tissue to clean myself up and thanked me for my 'assistance' as he put it. I wiped my face and hurried into Catherine's office for her meeting, only a few moments late, but late enough for me to realize from the look on her face I could expect a spanking later. 

Sure enough, on my return from lunch, Catherine called me into her office.

"You can guess why I've called you in here, I hope?"

"I was late for your meeting. I'm very sorry."

"I'm glad you have apologized, but it won't spare you a spanking. I'd like to do it now, if that's convenient as I other things to attend to at the end of the day." I nodded. "Over here then. I prefer to administer my spankings over the knee."

Obediently I found myself over her knees, high enough for my toes to barely touch the ground and for me to feel very vulnerable. Swiftly she spanked me, six slaps in all, much less gently than her husband, even though she did rub it gently for me saying "this is all for your own good. Incidentally, don't think this has anything to do with the blow-job you gave to my husband. You can do that whenever you want, personally I can't stand the taste."

I returned to my desk, with my bottom still stinging. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, comparing the two spankings. Surprisingly Catherine's had hurt more and for longer. It had also been more humiliating, being over her knee like a naughty child.

The day ended with a call from Catherine. She was in the flat above the offices and needed my help at once. I hurried up the stairs. The sight that awaited me took my breath away. She had taken her dress off and was wearing just her beautiful coordinated lingerie- black bra, panties, stocking and suspenders. She looked totally stunning and my cock strained against the restricting gaffe. She explained her problem. She had just painted her nails and she badly needed a pee!

As if in a dream I followed her into the bathroom, slid her panties down and helped to her sit. Then I waited while she pee-d, blushing a very deep shade of red and finding my gaze drawn to her beautiful body. It sounded so loud and I was amazed by how unconcerned she was.

"Thanks Jess, you're a life saver" she said.

Then I had to wipe her dry! My hands shook noticeably as I gingerly wiped some folded toilet tissue over her pussy. Then I slid her panties back up again. I was so turned on, so embarrassed and so confused I nearly tripped as I left.

That evening there was another message on the phone from my sister saying that she still couldn't get a flight and could I keep going to work in her place? Needless to say I was delighted to oblige, although she gave no indication of when she'd be back. 

Wednesday began quite uneventfully. Again I found men noticing me on the way to work, but this time I also noticed that women looked at me in a very different way to before; perhaps sizing up the competition! From being an anonymous guy to a girl worth a second look was quite a journey. At work I took notes, typed letters but nothing unusual happened.

Just before the end of the day Catherine invited me up to the flat.

"Yesterday I put you in an embarrassing position, sorry for that Jess, but I couldn't help noticing the way you were staring at me. Are you bi or just bi-curious?"

I decided to be honest, up to a point. "Curious, I guess. I've never been with a woman, but I do find you very attractive."

(It was sad, but true; I had sucked cock, twice, no three times now, and been taken up the bum by the driving test examiner, but I still had no experience with women.)

"Jessica, I think what's good enough for my husband is good enough for me. How would you like to lick my pussy?" She stepped out of her skirt, slid her panties off and posed for a moment. "Well?"

"I'd like that very much Catherine."

She took control and was very dominant. I laid on the bed and she knelt astride me, pinning me to the bed. She lowered her pussy onto my face and told me to lick. I licked. Smothered by her moist pussy, I licked and licked, running my tongue along her pussy lips again and again. All the time she was writhing about, grinding her crotch into my face. I probed with my tongue, sometimes pushing it deep inside her, which she seemed to like. I also probed a smaller hole and was rewarded with a metallic-tasting tiny squirt of liquid that I assumed was her pee. She like it best of all when she had pushed her clit right into my mouth and I could suck really hard on it, pulling it gently between my teeth, allowing me to give it a frenzied licking. She reached her climax, grinding into my face and squirting more pee into my mouth as she cried out "Yes! Yes! Yes!" She stayed there for a moment, before getting off.

"That was great, Jessie; but I really need a pee. I didn't leak any when I came, did I?"

"Um, well, yes, you did a bit." I blushed, adding, "but it was ok. I didn't mind."

"Really? That's delightfully kinky of you Jessie. I'd kiss you, but your face is covered with ... well you know what. You'd better wash your face before you go home."

I took her advice, also wiping my cock clean -- I had suffered some dribbling fluids of my own!

I wondered what Thursday would have in store. While I was typing some letters my mind wandered to the events of the previous days and I made some errors. Michael was not pleased and before I went to lunch he called me into his office.

"You're still making careless errors but for now I'm prepared to allow you to carry on. Assuming you'll accept the punishment of a spanking?" I nodded and he added "very well, raise your skirt up above your waist and assume the position across my knees."

My knees trembled as I hitched up my skirt up, walked self consciously across the office to where he was sitting on the sofa and I laid across his lap. He pressed his hand on my back, pinning me in place. I could feel his cock hardening as he pushed me down and I could feel it twitch with every slap, all twelve of them. These were much harder than the first time. I cried out in pain the first two times and was told that if I made any noise the slap didn't count. I bit my lip and felt tears welling up in my eyes. After the ninth slap, I saw a pair of black high heels standing in front of me, so I guessed Catherine was watching, which didn't make it any better. Now my humiliation had an audience, making things even worse.

After my ordeal was over I stood up, my bum cheeks stinging. I was certain that they were as red as my blushing face. I started to pull down my skirt.

"Stop!" Michael ordered. "I don't like tights. Get some proper underwear. Catherine will advise you. Come to work in tights tomorrow and it'll be your last day."

He strode out. Catherine put her arm round my shoulders and comforted me.

"Don't cry, Jessie, we'll go shopping after work, my treat. It'll be fine."

After work Catherine drove us to a shopping mall which stayed open late. There she made a bee-line for a lingerie store. I was very nervous but also excited. The thought of wearing such beautiful lingerie as Catherine thrilled me. The thought of trying it on in a shop terrified me. Luckily I knew my sizes so didn't need the measuring service the shop advertised.

Together we went round the shop, commenting on the different styles and materials.

"I think today we only need to buy one set. If you like it and more importantly, if Michael likes you in it, we can buy more later." She handed me some items. I looked at silky, white, lace-trimmed garments. They were so much flimsier and so much sexier than the plain cotton undies I was wearing. I waited while she paid, then she handed me the bag, explaining that she had a few more things to buy and that she'd see me tomorrow.

At home I told Mum what had happened, as I had done every day. On her prompting I tried on the new lingerie. It felt great, but whilst the bra had an uplifting effect, it didn't cover my false boobs as well as my old bra. However, Mum used some foundation make-up which disguised the joins quite well. The knickers were just sufficient to cover my gaff, which came as a relief.

I got up early the next day, to allow for the 'camouflage' job. The new lingerie certainly had an effect. With my boobs virtually thrust into the faces of passers-by, I attracted a lot of stares, admiring ones from men, and some from women that I couldn't be sure about. Some, especially from women who were with men I smile back at, were hostile; some seemed to be sympathetic, almost pitying me. The stockings also affected my walk although this was a more subtle effect. Being without my tights made me slightly less self confident so I took smaller strides and the suspenders seemed to tug at my legs, giving me quite a wiggle in my walk!

At work I was kept busy as usual, but things eased off in the afternoon. Michael called me into his office, when Catherine was already waiting. He launched into a speech.

"Right Jessica, time for your evaluation. Your work and punctuality have been acceptable; you've been willing to do that little bit extra, so to speak, to keep things running smoothly. There are just two more things. Firstly if you could just take off your blouse and skirt, we can inspect your underwear and see if you've made the requested changes."




Instead of My Sister Ch. 03



My heart sank. I unbuttoned my blouse slowly, putting off the inevitable. Unless they looked very superficially I was doomed to be discovered. Finally I stood there wearing the matching white lingerie, natural-coloured lace-topped stockings and my black high heels; I felt very exposed, especially when Catherine picked up my blouse and skirt and took them across the room. I stood there hanging my head slightly, hands held in front of me.

"You look very nice Jessica, well done. Now move your hands behind your head."

I obeyed, but now felt totally exposed as Michael and Catherine circled around me.

"Another plus point is how obedient you are; almost submissive. However that brings us to the second matter -- your honesty." I must have looked confused. "You look confused, Jessica, but it's not very honest pretending to be someone else is it? Would you care to explain, Peter?" 

Tears welled in my eyes as I stammered "My sister really wanted this job, so when she got stuck abroad on holiday, I took her place. I've done it before you see."

"Tell us all about it." said Catherine.

"Can I get dressed or at least put my arms down please?"

"No, stay standing exactly as you are."

So standing there, hands behind my head like a naughty schoolgirl, wearing just lingerie and high heels, I told them. I told them about the first time at school and the second tine for the driving test. They kept asking for more details and I gave them all they wanted.

"So your sister knew you'd do anything to keep the job?"

"Yes."

"Would it surprise you to know we got a letter from her on the Friday, before you started work her on the Monday?"

"What? She didn't ring home until Saturday morning."

They read the letter to me. My beloved sister had set me up. She told them he would be staying in Spain and that she was certain I would arrive for work on that fateful Monday, pretending to be her. She also told them all the things I had done before.

"So you knew everything?"

Catherine answered, "Yes, that's why we did the things we did, we knew you wouldn't, in fact, couldn't complain, but then you did everything so willingly anyway. You've enjoyed this week haven't you?"

"Yes... until now."

"You're not enjoying this? Aren't you a bit excited wondering what we're going to do to our pretty little transvestite secretary next?" As she spoke she walked around me, allowing her long red nails to trail across my body. "Will it be a spanking? Some cock-sucking perhaps? Maybe more pussy eating? Or ..." she paused "... maybe something else. Perhaps its time for us to use that pretty little arse of yours?"

She was right. Now I was less nervous and more excited. I decided to take a risk. They had played their little game all week, using me for their pleasure. 'Almost submissive' they had said. I decided to be even more submissive.

"Well Mrs. Jenkins; Mr. Jenkins," I said looking at each of them in turn, "I would really like to keep working for you, so whatever punishment you see fit, I'll gladly accept."

"Anything we see fit?" said Michael.

I nodded.

"Stay there and don't move at all." They went out leaving me in the middle of the room.

They were gone for what seemed like ages. I willed myself not to move, whatever happened.

"Anything we see fit?" repeated Michael, when he returned to the room.

"Yes" I confirmed.

He called out to his wife who came in and placed a small pile of clothes on his desk.

"Change into these."

They stayed to watch, so I had to change in front of them. In place of my quite tasteful white lingerie, I put on some much tartier stuff which was black, almost see-through, with pink lace trim. The bra was strapless and the suspender belt was much wider and tighter, squeezing my waist in. The stockings were black, with a lace top and a seam up the back.

"You look stunning..." Catherine paused. "I was going to say 'Jessica' but I think you deserve our own name. What do you want us to call you? Choose something exotic and fabulous!"

I thought for a bit. "I don't know if it's exotic or fabulous enough, but I'd like to be called Arabella. It's just a name I like."

"Arabella it is then."

As I stood there Catherine explained a few things to me. When they had received Jessica's letter they could hardly believe their luck, since, if her letter was genuine, I was their ideal secretary. I was ok at the actual secretarial work but good at the 'extras'. Both of them liked to receive oral sex, but neither enjoyed giving it. I filled that need.

As if to emphasize their control over me, they made me perform some tedious office tasks, fetching files and making coffee for them in just my underwear. I was just getting over my self consciousness when Catherine called me into her office. She had also stripped down to her underwear, but, to my amazement, she was wearing a strap-on dildo, shaped like an enormous cock. She ordered me to kneel down and bend over. She slid my knickers down, moved the strap of my gaff to one side and rubbed some cold gel around my bum-hole, explaining that she licked the feeling of being dominant. I soon felt the dildo pushing against my arse. She held my hips and pushed! I gasped but could do nothing to stop her so I tried to relax and enjoy it. Slowly at first she slid in and out, gradually building up the speed and depth of her thrusts. I felt something hit my face. It was Michael's cock, just a mouth level. I took it in my mouth and began to suck and lick, but it was tricky, Catherine's thrusting would push his cock deep into my mouth when I least expected it.

Suddenly they both pulled out. Confused I called out "don't stop!" but I needn't have worried. They were swapping ends! Catherine had removed the strap-on and beckoned me to lick her pussy, while Michael, having slipped on a ribbed condom, was nudging my bum. His cock was slightly smaller than the dildo but he made up for it with the angle and depth of his thrusts. I was lost in a sea of pleasure, overwhelmed by waves of sensation. He held on tight, thrust deeply one more time and then pulled out.

"Stay where you are" he whispered to me. They both moved again. Catherine lay next to me and Michael positioned himself between her legs. My own cock was as hard as it had ever been, I was ready to come, but it looked as if my needs were to be forgotten again.

I was wrong. As Michael fucked Catherine, she reached between my legs, freed my cock from the gaff and began to wank me. The sensation was divine and I came almost at once. Not long after Michael tensed up and shot his load into Catherine. That just left Catherine. Eagerly I moved across and began licking her, tasting the mixture of her pussy juices and her husband's cum. She came too and we collapsed in a heap...

So my days of pretending to be my sister were over; I had my own identity and my own job - a job that I adored. I was very content. My first task on Monday was to arrange for the rugs to be replaced in Catherine's office; after I had been spanked for making a mess on it of course! And so began my life as Arabella.