Kyle worked for the FBI as an analyst, but when his field agent sister is injured he has to step into her shoes and go undercover - as her! Forced to become feminine and flirty by his boss, Kyle learns some unexpected lessons by emulating his sister -and maybe comes to terms with a part of himself that he never knew he had. Contains every chapter of Becoming Kayla in a single volume at a lower price.
Excerpt: Excerpt: “Thanks.” There was no excitement in my voice – field work was not going to be quite the thrill I thought it would be. After Mary had loaded up my car with bags and bags of Kayla's old clothes I hobbled in, clumsy in the heels, and carefully began to drive off. The heels made working the pedals awkward and I had to change how I grasped the wheel because of my long, crimson nails. It seemed like everything I did had to change in some way to better fit being 'Kayla', it was all very bewildering. I was so wrapped up in the new sensations that I didn't notice I was speeding until I saw the blue lights in my rear-view mirror.
I cursed, realizing my wallet was still in my pants on the floor of the salon. If I wanted to avoid trouble and uncomfortable questions I'd have to pass my first test as Kayla. I wait with butterflies in my stomach as the cop sauntered up. He was clean shaven and wore dark sunglasses, and asked “License and registration, please.” Shaky, I picked through my purse for my identification and grabbed the paperwork from the glovebox. He studied the license for a moment, then flashed his flashlight on me and studied me. I shrank under his scrutiny, feeling vulnerable and helpless even though the worst end for this was only a call to Michelle. He walked back to his car and I was allowed to stew in my anxiety for a bit.
Finally, he returned with my license and waved me on my way. Through his dark glasses I couldn't tell where his eyes went but part of me was sure they were lingering on my cleavage. Still a little stunned, I numbly put the car into drive and rode off. I had passed my first test as Kayla, but I'd nearly lost my cool without even having to talk. Michelle was right; I needed to test myself in public.
I wobbled uneasily up the stairs to my apartment, kicking off the troublesome shoes as soon as I could. The skirt came off next, I was tired of it hobbling my steps, and the rest of my outfit followed. By the time I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth I was down to my panties, and the small protrusion on them was the only hint of my masculinity. Even brushing my teeth caused my breasts to jiggle and sway like mounds of jell-o and I began to understand a little deeper why women wore bras. Finally I stripped off my panties and fell into my bed, the sheets embracing me cooly on my smooth, bare skin.
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About the Author
Lyra K. is a long-standing reader and lover of transgender fiction who has finally found her calling in detailing the lurid fantasies that occupy her mind. When she's not appreciating fine works of fiction she indulges in her other hobbies spanning all aspects of nerddom, and is especially fond of P&P roleplaying games and driving ludicrous distances to attend concerts.