Identity (Patreon)

Cassandra Wilson was sitting with her feet up on her comfy couch. Cassandra is an African American woman in her late twenties. She is a woman of independent means. She is wearing a gray elbow-length V-neck crop top which left her midriff bare and a pair of black skinny jeans. She hopes to get married someday but isn't particularly looking for someone. Although she has a boyfriend, she isn't serious about him.

Cassandra is watching the latest episode of Survivor. She didn't watch it when it was first broadcast, she is watching it On-Demand from her cable company. She enjoys Survivor.

There is a knocking at her door, but it isn't her front door. The knocking is coming from the glass door that leads to her backyard.

Cassandra throws her legs off the couch and onto the floor. She is still wearing her black heeled sandals. She walked through the living room to the great room where the backdoor is located. She can see who is knocking. It is a white man. The man was wearing a green sweatshirt, with brown pants and white sneakers.

Cassandra doesn't know why any man was knocking at her back door, especially a white man she had never seen before. The man did look distressed though.

Composite Picture by Yan Krukov, RODNAE Productions, and Oleksandr Chepys 

Cassandra slid back the glass door to talk.

“Sweetie, what's da matter?” she asks.

“Miss, you have to help me. They are after me. You have to hide me. I really need your help!” The words flew rapidly out of the man's mouth.

“Who's after you?”

“It's better if you don't know. Please help me!”

“Sure Sweetie, come on in.”

Cassandra allowed the man to pass into her house.

“Let's go where they can't see me.”

“Sure thing,” she said as she led him into the room where the TV was still playing.

Cassandra turned off the TV. “What's your name?”

“I'm Joe Elliot.”

“Good to meet you, I'm Cassandra.”

Joe took Cassandra's offered hand in his own and shook it.

“You're not in trouble with the law, are you?” Cassandra asked.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then who?”

“Bad people. Real bad people. You really don't want to know. Just let me stay here for a little while.”

“No problem, Sweetie. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. You're very kind.”

“I always want to help people in trouble. I'm that type of person.”

“I can see that.”

“I need something to disguise myself when I leave here.”

“I don't have any men's clothing. Nothing that'll fit you. My man isn't your size.”

“I see.”

“But you know what? Maybe there is something of mine you can wear. Come with me.”

Cassandra turned to walk upstairs towards her bedroom. Joe followed behind her. He stared at her big round ass in her jeans in front of him as it climbed the stairs in her heels. Cassandra's life was about to change. Soon she wouldn't be Cassandra anymore.

Joe entered Cassandra's bedroom behind her. The room was well kept. The queen-size bed was the centerpiece of the boho-style bedroom. The gray and white comforter with matching pillows complimented everything else in the room. The bedroom was a gallery for displaying books, handmade crafts, and other eccentric pieces from different cultures and art styles that Cassandra collected from around the world. Unique furniture pieces, distinct layering patterns, trinkets, and souvenirs from Cassandra's travels. Compelling textures are all at home in her bohemian bedroom.

Cassandra moves toward her closet. There were many garments contained within. Mostly dresses, skirts, and other feminine finery, but she was looking for a knitted sweater that she bought for herself from the men's department, boyfriend-type jeans, and an old baseball cap.

Joe kicked off his sneakers while Cassandra was searching in her closet.

She turned to Joe after fetching what she was looking for.

Joe reached into his own pocket while Cassandra's head was turned to retrieve something of his own.

“What's that?” Cassandra said as Joe reached to touch her forehead. Her eyes went blank.

“IDENTITY SWAP!” Joe announced. The magic was instantaneous. From this moment on Joe is now Cassandra Wilson and she is Joe Elliot. Everyone who doesn't know Cassandra will see Joe as a black woman and Cassandra and everyone else will see herself as a white man. The people who know Cassandra, will see and treat Joe just as they would her. As far as they know, Joe is and always has been Cassandra.

Cassandra's eyes cleared. She appraised the apparel she was holding.

“I think this will be perfect.”

“Me too.”

“I have also an old pair of sneakers you might like.”

“Yeah.”

“Go into the bathroom and try this one. I'll wait here.”

“Thank you.”

Cassandra, the new Joe, went into what was her bathroom and removed her top and jeans. She didn't notice that she had been wearing women's apparel. When she returned, she was wearing a sweater, jeans, and sneakers. On her head, she wore a baseball cap. Her breasts hung loosely under the sweater, but she didn't notice.

“What do you think?” Cassandra asked.

“It's good. You look different.”

“OK, now what?”

“I was thinking, why don't you borrow my car? Just leave it at the bus depot and I'll pick it up later.”

“I couldn't do that.”

“Sweetie, it's my pleasure.” Joe purposefully added the terms of endearment.

“But it's your car.”

“Don't worry about it. I trust you. Just park it. I'll get it. I'm a good judge of character. I know you'll never do me dirty.”

“I never will!” Cassandra agreed.

“OK, let me get a few bucks for you also. Where's my purse?”

Joe looked around the house. He found Cassandra's purse downstairs in the living room. It was black and white in a boho style like her bedroom. He opened it. The purse was big enough to carry scores of things. It had a single strap that could be carried by hand or over the shoulder. Joe reached in and found a wallet. There were several hundred dollars inside. Joe selected three twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Cassandra.

“Oh no, I couldn't take this.”

“Don't be silly, Sweetie.  It's my pleasure. I know you need it.”

“You don't know what this means to me.”

“I might. I've had my share of troubles.”

Joe walked Cassandra to the garage. Inside was two cars. He offered up keys to the BMW to Cassandra. The key indicated which car.

Cassandra beeped the key fob and the doors unlocked.

”I'll never forget this.”

“Neither will I. Give me a hug!” Joe threw open his arms.

Cassandra hugged Joe tightly for several seconds.

“Good luck!”

“Thank you. Bye.”

Cassandra backed out of the driveway and drove to the bus depot.

Joe stood in the garage alone. He was still holding Cassandra's purse, although the purse belonged to him now.

“Let's see who I am.”

He didn't even know what was now his own last name. He found the place where Cassandra kept her ID and credit cards. He found his driver's license and looked it over. He saw his picture on the right side of the license. It was his picture, as far as the world knew he was Cassandra Wilson, a black female, born 28 years ago on July 16th. Under sex it said F, height was his height and eyes were his color. Did the real Cassandra have brown eyes? Joe wasn't sure. It really didn't matter. The address was this house of course. It's his house. No, it's her house, he is considered by everyone to be a woman.

The new Cassandra walked to her bedroom. It was time to get out of these male clothes. She saw the clothes abandoned by the new Joe. There was a T-shirt bra, gray crop top, and black skinny jeans. Joe's heeled sandals were also left in the bedroom.

Cassandra decided she should redress in the apparel she was wearing when she met Joe for the first time. Cassandra looked around, there weren't any used panties left for her. Maybe that's a good thing.

Cassandra moved to the dresser which must have her panties and her casual apparel. “Will my panties be in the top drawer or the bottom?” Cassandra wondered. It didn't matter, she looked in the top drawer. There was a score of tops there. Cassandra bent down to open the bottom drawer. There were both panties and bras in this drawer.

The former Cassandra was a big woman, her panties were big too. They were mostly size seven. Since she was going to wear black jeans, she decided to select a black pair of panties also. Every color of the rainbow and lots of patterns of panties were in the drawer. There had to be over a hundred pairs of neatly folded panties in that bottom drawer. Cassandra selected a pair of black, bikini-style panties. Cassandra didn't care that the pair she selected had a scalloped trim.

Cassandra removed her clothing. Naked, she put on the panties first. She knew that her penis was outlined under her panties, not that anyone else could see it. She then picked up the T-shirt bra. She put her arms through the straps. It took about a minute before she fastened the hooks in the back. The cups hung loosely, he didn't really have any breasts, but she knew she had to wear a bra anyway. She stepped into the jeans and fastened them. They were a bit tight at the waist but mostly fit. Finally, she pulled the crop top over her head. It fit over her bra. She was fully dressed, except for the shoes. Would she be able to get into the sandals? There was only one way to find out. The former Cassandra had 'big' feet, and her shoes fit.

Cassandra wanted to see herself. She looked in the bathroom mirror. She was wearing clearly women's apparel. The T-shirt bra even gave her the illusion of breasts under her top, but she still recognized 'his face' as well as 'his body'.

“What the hell?” she thought and then opened the medicine cabinet. What he was looking for was in front of her: several tubes of lipstick and other cosmetics. Cassandra selected a purplish color. She looked at the name, it was called Emotion.

“Perfect,” she said out loud. Then he coated her lips.

Composite Photo by cottonbro and Chait Goli 

“What now?”

“Watch TV.”

Cassandra returned to where she was before she met Joe. She turned On-Demand back on and watched Survivor 'again'.

From her place on the couch, something caught Cassandra's eye. She could see someone through her sliding glass door that overlooked her backyard.

Cassandra walked over to the door and saw a couple of men walking through her yard.

Cassandra opened the door and shouted, “Hey, what are you doing there? This is private property!”

These were the men who were looking for Joe. They saw Cassandra but didn't recognize her.

“We're sorry, we must have gotten lost.”

“You aren't supposed to be here. Get off my property, I'm calling the police!”

“We're leaving. We're leaving.” A moment later, they asked, “Have you seen anybody?”

“Just you. You had better get out of here!”

Cassandra closed the door and returned to her show and her new life. None of Joe's pursuers recognized her. They thought that she was just some fat woman.