Art of the Con - Sneak Peak (Patreon)

This is a sneak peak of the first chapter for Art of the Con, rest of the chapter is currently available on my Exclusives Tier. The subsequent chapters will be posted there in their entirety. 

~

‘…In other news, a man has defrauded hundreds of Californian socialites with a fake VIP Access card. Kenneth Hurley, pictured here, claimed that the over three hundred thousand dollars of investor funding he had collected from Malibu’s wealthiest would be used to create a membership card, allowing holders to purchase VIP experiences country wide. Instead, he was caught attempting to embezzle the full amount to his own personal accounts. After spending several weeks rubbing elbows with the elite and showing off his own vast wealth it came to light, thanks to the hard work of several forensic accountants, that Hurley was in fact, a con artist without a penny to his name save those he’d scammed off other unsuspecting victims. While police were able to stop Hurley from accessing the stolen funds, they were unable to apprehend him.

Hurley is twenty-nine years old, with a tanned complexion, brown hair and black eyes. Any sightings should be reported to the police at your earliest convenience. Any tips leading to the successful capture of the fugitive will be handsomely rewarded. And now for the weather-‘

Ken huffed in annoyance. This report had ruined his life; they could have at least granted him more than thirty seconds of air time. Not to mention the picture they’d flashed across the screen. He’d seen the same image in newspapers and magazines all morning; after weeks galivanting about with super models in designer clothes they had ample choice, yet they picked his old mug shot from a few years ago when he got caught using counterfeit bills. Not only had infamy been thrust upon him, the last thing a hustler needed, his name was now forever tied to that haggard looking image.

For months he’d been working on that scam. It was amazing what you could fake with the right amount of confidence and a good word here and there. Once he’d befriended one heiress, it was just a matter of time before he’d infiltrated the inner circle of many and the cash was flowing. If he’d just emptied that shell account earlier, he’d be a thousand miles away on a private plane to some tropical paradise. Instead, he was stuck in this pay by the hour motel room in the shittiest part of town, hiding behind high collars and sunglasses. Not only that but with his face everywhere the chances of him ever getting such a big scam up and running again were slim to none. Changing his name was a simple thing but his face, that took money and connections, all of which were currently up in flames. None of his usual contacts, underworld or otherwise, would want to do business with him now.

With a sigh he took stock of his assets, having only had the briefest of moments to pack a bag and make his daring escape before the police descended upon his beach house. His laptop, now almost entirely useless since the IP was being traced, a single burner phone, a few thousand in unmarked bills and several fake IDs which were also now useless. Every alias he had was compromised, every back up bank account, each safe house, years of work, all worthless. He had one last hope, one tiny thread he could pull; but it was a long shot.

With a world-weary sigh and no small amount of trepidation he picked up the burner phone and punched in Benny’s number. A small-time fence, Benny was a snake. Ever since he’d promoted himself to hustling trust fund babies and tech upstarts, he’d distanced himself from the man. Working with Benny was fine when you were selling fake Fendi bags and hustling pool but he was hardly living the upper class, five-star lifestyle Ken was aspiring to.

“You got the B-man!”

Oh God he already regretted this.

“Benny, it’s Ken.”

“Holy shit, dude! I thought the feds gotcha!”

“They wish.” Ken swore he could smell the cheap pizza wafting off Benny through the phoneline, “Listen, I need some new docs, good ones.”

“Sorry my man, even I ain’t risking my neck on this one.”

Ken felt that last thread of hope slipping through his fingers.

“C’mon man, you and I go way back!” He tried, voice smooth and confident, “All I need is a passport, maybe a driver’s licence, enough to get me over a border-“

“Man, your face is everywhere, you’re gonna need some heavy-duty surgery to hide it. Hair dye and a fake moustache can only go so far.”

“There has to be something you can do, you’re the best fence on the west coast!”

A blatant lie but Ken was yet to meet a man who couldn’t be charmed with a few subtle strokes of the ego. Or in this case, not so subtle. He could hear Benny chewing on something, humming in thought.

“Look, how about a new laptop?” He offered, “One with a dark web connection, I am sure you can find somebody on there to get you what you need.”

Ken hated using the dark web, ever since Silk Road got taken down getting contraband there was more of a headache than it was worth. But if it was his only hope, he’d have to take it.

“Deal.”

Benny gave him a grunt that sounded affirmative. Quickly relaying a drop off point and time; were it any other fence Ken would be wary but one good thing about Benny was his loyalty. He knew if he rated Ken out, his name would be on the lips of every prison snitch and subsequently their liaisons on the street in a matter of days. There was little truth to that old saying ‘honour among thieves’, the closer analogy would be ‘mutually assured destruction among thieves. But that didn’t quite have the same ring to it.

~

The Dark Web was a lot less cool in real life as compared to the world of fiction. A lot of boring, plain looking sites mostly listing drugs and guns for sale with varying degrees of quality. Surprisingly, things like fake IDs and bank accounts were not something easily stumbled across and Ken grumbled, slowly scrolling through page after page, sweet talking his way into passcodes and various hidden stores in search of anything useful to him.

The TV hummed in the background, some vapid late night talk show host nattering on about the latest charity ball in New York.

‘…And here comes the man of the hour! James Dubois, this famous young philanthropist has recently returned from Silicon Valley with a brand-new start up under his belt. But of course, the thing on this reports mind is the lack of a lovely lady on his arm!’

Ken rolled his eyes as he scrolled through yet another page full of prescription drugs. This was the sort of shallow, mind numbingly out of touch drivel he’d been subjected to for months in Malibu. It would have been worth it, had his plan actually worked.

‘Mr.Dubois is quite the catch, with a net worth of well over six million dollars, yet he just can’t seem to find Mrs. Right! What a shame.’

At the mention of a Dubois’ wealth Ken’s eyes slid upwards. A young, dark-haired man in a fancy suit was standing waving as reporters snapped photos on a red carpet. Ken gazed at his chiselled jaw and golden skin with envy; if he had that guy’s good looks and money, he certainly wouldn’t be single. Again, that sting of failure hit him. He’d become accustom to a certain lifestyle in Malibu, fine clothes, and even finer food. The fact that he was now stuck in this shitty motel, sharing a bed with cockroaches and searching yet another dark web page made him want to scream at the indignity of it all. Eyes dropping back to the task at hand his eyes came to focus on a drug he’d never heard of before.

“Bimbathroyne?”

The nondescript round balls pictured were milky white with a tinge of pink. The description simply read ‘for men who want to get in touch with their feminine side, physically’. Curiosity peaked and badly in need of a distraction after the last few hectic days he looked it up. There was very little available, even on the dark web, which was unusual and what information he did find seemed unbelievable to say the least. Where and how the drug was created was impossible to find, though there seemed to only be one distributor. Moreover, the drug claimed to help rewrite chromosomes in the body temporarily, or something like that, the science behind it was way beyond Ken’s understanding. The important part was the effect, this wasn’t a drug for getting high, according to the claims it transformed men into women.

Ken stared at the screen for a moment before flicking back to the TV. More footage of that charity event was playing. James Dubois was on screen again, smiling at a gaggle of young women with polite indifference. Young, rich, single James Dubois. Years ago, when he’d first decided to start going after big money with his cons, Ken had considered trying to seduce and sucker a rich heiress but found the competition too fierce. God had blessed him with a face perfect for hustling; plain and forgettable, unfortunately, said face was at a distinct disadvantage when it came to seduction. He’d also been inexperienced, unable to fit in and woo young women of the elite social classes but now, after his time in Malibu…

A plan began to form in his mind as he clicked the link and began negotiating with a seller. Getting two weeks’ worth of bimbathroyne would drain most of his remaining cash but if he could pull this off, it would be worth it. If he played his cards right not only would he be rolling in dough but creating a new identity would be easier than it ever had been. All he’d need now was a pilfered dress and a bus ticket to New York…

~

The process was a slow and difficult one. Getting his cash converted in the Bitcoin needed to buy things on the dark web was frustrating but after a day or two, with no small amount of bribery, he managed it. Ordering the bimbathroyne to a random address he’d scoped out in the suburbs he spent several days camped out on a bench waiting for it to be delivered. Fortunately, vagrants and hobos were diligently ignored by the upper middle class for the most part and he was able to pass by undetected. By the time he had the nondescript package in his hands it had been almost two weeks since he’d been forced to flee Malibu. His funds were basically non-existent and he was desperately missing the comforts of his California retreat. His hands shook, unwrapping the brown carboard box to reveal a small yellow pill container, made up to look like the ones you got prescriptions in at the chemist. The milky pink pills clinked together against the plastic and he smiled nervously, if this didn’t work he was well and truly fucked.

The note was handwritten hurriedly stating that due to the new nature of the pills the long-term side effects were unknown. The pills lasted twenty-four hours before the effects wore off and while under the influence the following may occur:

“Brain fog, loss of coordination, increased libido and minor memory loss.” Ken muttered to himself, not ideal but for this plan to work he’d have put up with much worse.

Stuffing the pills inside his filthy hoodie he made his way to the closest gym. It was late morning and the place was mostly empty, making it easy to sneak in the back. Dodging the security camera, he dashed into the women’s change rooms and swiftly locked himself in private shower cubicle. Even as a fully grown man, sneaking into the girls’ room elicited a certain thrill he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager.

Fingers trembling with both nerves and excitement he twisted open the container and gently lifted a pill out before resealing. With nothing left to lose he popped it on his tongue, rolling it around his mouth for a moment taking in the unusually smooth texture before swallowing. The outer shell glided down his throat without issue and Ken found himself standing in the cubicle waiting for something to happen. There were no notes on how long the pills took to take effect and after five minutes he was beginning to worry these too good to be true drugs were just that. Had the scammer just been scammed? How humiliating.

He was tempted to take another but he was smarter than that, while he was no junkie this wasn’t his first foray into illicit substances. Taking more because you don’t ‘feel it yet’ was a rookie move. Instead, he sat on the floor, mood slowly dampening as he realised, he’d probably just eaten a tiny sugar pill. That would explain the slight sweetness lingering on his tongue. He stood, feeling all hope for regaining the high-class lifestyle he so missed slowly slipping away as he reached to unlock the door only to freeze. His hand was…smaller. He blinked a few times to ensure he wasn’t imagining things but he wasn’t, his hand was ever so slightly smaller, where a small amount of hair had once been on the back of his knuckles there was just smooth skin.

Instinctually his free hand flew to his mouth in shock only to find that hips lips also felt strange. The thin skin was fuller, lips plumping with a much more pronounced cupids bow. He felt them pull into a victorious smile, the pills were working! Without a mirror he was forced to explore with just his hands, running the now smooth finger tips across his face. If he stayed his movements enough he could even feel the skin shifting beneath them. His vision blurred for a few moments and he blinked to clear it, long lashes visible for the briefest of moments as his eyes opened.

His heart pounded in his chest as bigger changes started to take place; Ken swore he could feel his insides churning as the skin began to stretch. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant; his whole body seemed to burn like a muscle being stretched. A pressure began to form at his chest and rear as they inflated, coming to press against his clothing. Swearing quietly under his breath he moved to undo the fly of his jeans, he really should have undressed before taking these but it was too late. Already his hips and ass had grown so much the zip was jammed, he couldn’t undo them and had no choice but to fall to the ground as his body strained against the fabric. The tight material cut into his skin and he groaned, just as the pain was becoming unbearable the sound of ripping reached his ears and then a sense of relief. His jeans had torn across the ass cheeks, he turned and saw great gashes in the material and tanned skin beneath. The tears loosened the zip enough for him to struggle out of it, rough fabric scraping against his legs. He marvelled at them as they emerged from the torn fabric; long and slender, with only the lightest dusting of hair compared to the thick black fur that had coated them before. He wanted to admire them more but he didn’t get the chance.

The tightness across his chest was becoming unbearable, swiftly he divested himself the hoodie but his shirt was a lost cause. He’d barely shrugged off the other garment before his nipples, now pink and hard, burst through the fabric. He could only watch, gasping for air as his new tits burst forth, fabric shredding around them as they grew. He felt his face flush with desire watching them emerge; so round and heavy against his chest as they sagged ever so slightly into teardrop shapes. The slightly bronzed skin was so smooth it reflected against the harsh light of the bathroom.

With some effort he peeled what remained of the shredded shirt away, leaving him in nothing but his shoes. Unlike the other clothes, they were at no risk of being destroyed by his growing body, if anything they were starting to feel looser. With a kick to the heel the shoes fell off and he held up his new dainty foot and inspected it. Like the rest of his body the dark hair he’d grown so accustomed to was gone, replaced with a dusting of blonde so fine you could barely see it. Looking down at his body he marvelled at all the small details that were changing. His skin felt as though it had been airbrushed, smooth and silky, making his curves seem that much more alluring.

He leaned forward, ready to gaze over his chest and behold what was now between his legs but found himself distracted by a lock of long dark hair that fell over his forehead. He lifted the hair between his thumb and forefinger, watching with fascination at the slack increased as it rapidly grew. His dull black hair was now glossy and smooth like silk between his fingers, with a subtle wave that granted it added volume. He could feel more of it, slowly growing down his back until it started to tickle at the ridge of his ass. The sensation made him shiver.

He pushed his hair back with his now slender fingers, taking a second to enjoy the slight tug it caused against his scalp before turning his attention southwards once more. His briefs had ripped off with his jeans, leaving him bare. It was more than a little disconcerting to see the lack of cock between his legs, at the very least he couldn’t help but feel a stab of emasculation but he pushed it aside, this is what he had to do. It was only temporary. It seemed this was the one place he hadn’t had his dark hair bleached and removed by the bimbathroyne, a mound of dark curly hair was still nestled there where it always had been. It was however, short, and neat with a distinct pink slit down the middle. He had seen quite a few pussies in his life, especially during his stint in Malibu; maybe it was just arrogance but as he spread his legs and looked at it properly, he couldn’t help but feel his was the best looking he’d ever seen. A deep blush pink, he could see the lips glistening with moisture.

His face split open in a grin. He’d done it! Quietly, he unlocked the shower stall and peaked out, the room was still abandoned so he rushed over to the mirror to take in his full reflection. The woman who stared back gave him a triumphant look; tanned skin, dark hair, and matching eyes, she was the sort of woman who could make men fall at her feet. Her almond shaped eyes were heavy lidded and even without make up had a slight darkness to their lids. She pouted her lips slightly, blowing him a kiss. This woman would have James Dubois eating out of the palm of her hand in no time. The sound of approaching footsteps had him retreat back into the shower stall, mind still buzzing with the high of success. He took a short, sharp breath and clapped his palms against his high cheekbones. Time to focus.

He switched on the shower and jumped under the warm spray, sighing as the heat seeped into his new skin. It was his first shower in weeks, a proper one anyway, and he revelled in the water gliding down his new curves. He experimented, raising his arms above his head and letting the water pour down his sides, bending backwards and letting his splash across the top of his breasts and even leaning forwards and spreading his ass cheeks to ensure the liquid got into every crevice. He shivered at the last gesture, feeling the water flow over his ass and then down between the folds of his pussy. A gentle, pleasurable sensation flowed through him at the warm touch and he couldn’t resist teasing more.

He sat down on the warmed tiles and leaned backwards, spreading his legs wide and allowing the spray to gently fall on his open pussy lips. Each droplet sent more of that pleasurable tingling shooting down his legs and up his spine and a breathy moan escaped before he could clamp his mouth closed. Biting down on his lip he stiffened, letting his eyes flutter closed as the water continue to pleasure him. He’d always known pussies were sensitive but he’d never realised something as light as water could gift such feelings. Didn’t the warning say increased libido was a side effect? Perhaps that was already coming into effect, now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop.

The water could only do so much however and soon the pleasant feeling turned to an ache. A desperate need for more friction was building within him and he had no choice but to slowly place a finger atop those wet lips. The featherlight touch made his eyes snap open in shock, without even moving, that simple pressure above his new clit was extraordinary. He watched, unable to tear his eyes away as slowly he stroked it, up and down, causing a different kind of wetness to mingle with the water around his thighs. Each tough sent electricity coursing through his being; his hips bucked and legs shook with the intensity of it. More than once he was worried the arm supporting him may give way as it trembled. As a man, orgasm came fast, the build barely lasted longer than a few seconds before the pleasure crested but as a woman it was slow. Each stroke increased the ecstasy, yet it was never quite enough. Desperate for release his pace and pressure increased, breath coming in sharp bursts he was sure whomever had entered the bathroom would be able to hear. Finally, he hit it, the point of no return. For a few beautiful moments he was on the edge before plunging down into a sea of sensations. His body jerked as he came, muscles spasming out of his control and his knees came together, squeezing around the finger still resting on his clit.

With a satisfied sigh he stood once more, washing all trace of his activities from his fingers under the hot spray. Finally clean and familiarised with his new body he switched off the water and dried himself with a pilfered towel. His underwear was ruined, as were his jeans but luckily he still had a spare pair of black trousers and his hoodie. With a satisfied smirk he zipped up the hoodie, feeling the tension in the zip as he pulled it closed over his new tits.

It was time for his greatest scam of all time; he may have entered this building Kenneth Hurley, wanted fugitive but he was leaving as Kellie Lake, a complete unknown who would soon become famous in her own right for snagging New York’s most eligible bachelor.