Cousin Amy 02

Chapter 2: For Love and Money

A few days later, Scott and Jessica found themselves back in Amy's apartment, a place that was becoming increasingly familiar yet still felt foreign. The mood was calm, a stark contrast to their last visit, where the seed of a wild scheme had been planted. In Scott's mind, that conversation was a distant memory, one he had hoped would fade away with time.

As they entered the apartment, Jessica immediately vanished from sight, leaving Scott assuming she had gone to the bathroom. He began his routine of watering the plants, moving methodically around the space, letting his thoughts drift. The lush greenery under his care seemed to thrive, unaware of the complexities of human lives that surrounded them.

Moments later, Jessica reappeared, a triumphant grin on her face, holding something in her hand. "Found it," she announced, waving the object with a flourish.

Scott, halting his task, turned to her. "Found what?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Amy’s passport," Jessica replied, holding it up for him to see.

Scott's brows furrowed in confusion. "And why would you need Amy’s passport?"

Jessica's eyes sparkled with determination. "Well, after calling the attorney, he told me he needs me to send him through some identification."

Scott sighed deeply, the weight of her words sinking in. "Are we still talking about this?" he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Don’t you think this crazy idea has gone far enough? I’m not sure if you’ve checked in the mirror lately, but you're Asian, and Amy isn’t. How do you possibly expect this to work?"

Undeterred, Jessica replied confidently, "I’m going to edit a picture of me over the image of Amy."

Scott shook his head, his frustration evident. "And when you have to go in person and show the real document. What then?"

Jessica paused, the reality of the situation dawning on her. "They won’t check, will they?"

"Of course they will," Scott retorted, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. "They're not just going to give you a check because you turn up saying you’re my cousin."

Jessica, not easily dissuaded, opened the passport to the identification page. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "she kind of looks like you."

Scott chuckled dismissively. "Yeah, right," he replied. "Perhaps when we were children."

"But this is old," Jessica insisted. "She must have been sixteen or something when she got this. Here, look." She crossed the room in her high-heeled boots and thrust the passport into Scott’s hands.

Scott couldn't deny the family resemblance as he examined the photo, but the idea of him looking like Amy was still far-fetched in his mind. He handed back the passport, trying to refocus on the plants.

Jessica, however, was persistent. "You could do it, you know?" she said, following him.

"Do what?" Scott replied, a sense of unease building within him.

"Be Amy! At the meeting!" Jessica declared, her voice filled with excitement.

Scott stopped in his tracks, staring at her in disbelief. "Me!" he exclaimed. "No way, Jess! This idea was a nice fantasy, but you have to let it go. You tried."

Jessica's expression hardened. "No!" she countered forcefully. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You told me you weren’t like all the other losers when I met you. But perhaps I was wrong!"

Scott's heart sank at her words. "Come on, Jess," he pleaded, his voice softening. "That’s so unfair. What you’re suggesting… well… It’s madness."

Jessica's tone shifted, becoming more gentle, more persuasive. "We could try?" she suggested. "Why not put on an outfit or two just to see how you look? If you look silly, I’ll forget the whole thing, promise. And if you play dress up for me, I’ll play dress up for you when we get home. We could recreate Valentine's night."

The memory of Valentine's night flickered in Scott's mind, Jessica had looked unbelievable in the lingerie he had bought her, and the sex that followed was out of this world. He hesitated, torn between reason and desire. "One outfit," he finally conceded, his decision driven more by emotion than logic.

"One outfit, just to see," Jessica echoed, her excitement palpable.

"And no pictures," Scott added firmly.

"Cross my heart," Jessica replied, her eyes dancing with mischief. She grasped Scott's hand, guiding him toward Amy’s bedroom, which, like much of the apartment, was decorated in varying shades of pink.

Upon entering the room, Jessica marched directly to the far end, where Amy had transformed the space into an expansive closet and dressing area. Scott lingered at the doorway, his nerves palpable as he watched Jessica peruse the wardrobe. “Hmmm… Too tight. Too much. Ah! This could work!” she exclaimed, pulling out a woollen, turtleneck pink sweater adorned with a diamond-stitched pattern.

Scott's face contorted into a grimace, clearly uneasy about the choice. Noticing his reluctance, Jessica teased, “Or I guess I could find you a dress if you'd prefer?” her smile widening.

“Err… no, that’s fine,” Scott replied hastily, his voice tinged with nervousness. “But does it have to be pink?”

Jessica chuckled softly, the sound light and playful. “Most things in Miss Barbie’s closet are pink. And besides, they will go perfectly with these shoes,” she said, bending down to pick up a pair of hot pink platform sandals.

Scott’s eyes widened in sheer horror at the sight of the shoes. “Jess, I can’t wear those,” he protested.

Jessica chuckled again. “Another time then,” she said casually, as she plucked out another item of clothing. She then walked over to Amy's makeup counter, placing down the heels, and looked back at Scott with expectation. “Well, don’t just stand there, get undressed,” she commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

With a sigh of resignation, Scott began to undress, wanting nothing more than to get this bizarre experience over with. He removed his shoes, followed by his top and sweatpants, standing in his socks and underwear, feeling a mix of embarrassment and absurdity.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, they're just clothes. Think about later when I ride you, Big boy. Now socks off and come over here,” Jessica coaxed, beckoning him with a long-nailed finger.

This comment seemed to perk Scott up a bit. “Okay, Mistress,” he replied, attempting to inject some humour into the situation. As he approached Jessica, she instructed him to raise his arms, and in a swift motion, she pulled the sweater over his head, plunging him momentarily into darkness. As the fabric settled over him, Scott's world was briefly obscured, a sensation that was both disorienting and strangely comforting.

Once his head emerged from the neck of the sweater, his eyes adjusting to the light again, he felt Jessica's hands gently guide him. "Lift your feet," she instructed softly. He complied, lifting first one foot and then the other, as she deftly guided a tight fabric over his legs, pulling it smoothly up over his hips. The sensation of the fabric hugging his form was unfamiliar, yet it was executed with such precision that he barely had time to process the feeling before he heard the zip being fastened at his backside.

He almost protested upon realizing he was wearing a skirt but thought better of it, just wanting to get through this ordeal. “Sit,” Jessica commanded, and Scott obediently took a seat.

Jessica briefly returned to the closet and came back with a pair of knee-high boots. Seeing the look on Scott's face, she pre-empted his objection. “Just to see if your feet fit her shoes. It’s these or the sandals,” she said, gesturing towards the daunting heels on the makeup station.

Scott glanced over at the monstrous platforms, their intimidating height making his decision for him. The boots, though daunting in their own right, seemed like the lesser of two evils. With a resigned nod, he allowed Jessica to help him into them. To his disbelief, they fit perfectly, snugly encasing the lower half of his legs and leaving his feet and ankles securely enclosed within the glossy confines of the pink patent leather.

“Okay, take a look,” Jessica urged, almost pulling him to his feet. The huge mirror that covered most of the back wall beckoned, and as Scott caught his reflection, he emitted a sound that was half gasp, half wheeze.

He quickly turned back to Jessica, who was examining him closely, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. Embarrassed, he tilted his head, trying to avoid her gaze. “Okay, are you happy now? I look ridiculous.”

(See image 03)

Jessica's expression was one of contemplation, mixed with a hint of satisfaction. "It's a start," she said softly, her eyes still fixed on him. "Wait here."

Jessica, with an air of determined creativity, strode back to the closet and reached in to pull out a short black bob-styled wig. Scott's heart sank as he watched her, realizing that this transformation was far from over. "Oh, no!" he complained. "You said one outfit."

"And the outfit isn’t complete, yet. Sit down again, and let me try a little makeup on you," Jessica said, her tone playful yet firm.

Scott knew arguing was futile; he had seen Jessica in this mood before. She wouldn’t be satisfied until her curiosity was fully indulged. With a resigned sigh, he muttered, “You owe me for this,” and hobbled back to the chair. The unfamiliar height of the boots altered his gait, making each step an awkward, cautious venture.

“I’m going to make myself look extra sexy for you later, but first, it’s your turn to get all dolled up,” Jessica announced, her excitement palpable.

For the next twenty minutes, Scott sat with his back to the mirror, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. He wasn't familiar with makeup products, but he could sense Jessica's meticulous approach as she worked.

She began by gently dabbing concealer under his eyes, followed by a layer of foundation, which she set with translucent powder. Scott remained still, albeit uncomfortably so, as she transformed his face. Then came the eye makeup. Jessica skillfully applied eyeshadow, blending shades to give him a pink smokey eye look. The black eyeliner along his water lines and the liberal application of mascara made Scott wince, each stroke of the wand near his eyes eliciting a muffled complaint.

With his eyes done, Jessica moved on to his lips. She lined them with a pink lip liner, instructing Scott to pucker up. Reluctantly, he complied, grimacing as the tube of baby pink lipstick approached - a colour he associated with the epitome of femininity. It felt strange, the lipstick gliding over his lips, but he endured it without further complaint.

Jessica finished by applying a touch of gloss to his now pink lips before adding a dusting of blush across his cheeks. Finally, she placed the wig on Scott's head, arranging it carefully. Stepping back, she observed her creation with satisfaction and delight.

(See image 04)

"What?" Scott asked nervously, sensing her gaze.

"Take a look behind you," Jessica responded, her smile widening.

"I don’t want to," Scott replied, his voice tinged with apprehension. "I’d rather you just get this gunk off me, and we get out of here."

"Oh, we will," Jessica assured him. "But I really think you should take a look in the mirror. I think this could work."

Scott's heart raced at her words. Slowly, with a mix of dread and curiosity, he stood up. His movements were hesitant, almost in slow motion, as he turned to face the mirror. The reflection that greeted him was startling. The gasp that escaped his painted pink lips resonated through the room, a sound of surprise and disbelief at the transformation Jessica had orchestrated.

His eyes, now framed by darkened lashes and eyeshadow, looked larger, more expressive. The foundation had smoothed out his complexion, and the pink lipstick gave his lips a fuller, more defined appearance. The wig, framed his face, softening his features. It was a look so strikingly different from his own, and he didn’t like it one bit.

For a moment, Scott just stared, his mind trying to reconcile the image before him with his own sense of identity. Jessica's reflection appeared beside him in the mirror, her smile beaming with pride. "See? This is going to work," she said triumphantly.

Scott glared at Jessica through the mirror, the disbelief and frustration evident in his expression. "There’s no way I’m going to a meeting with an attorney dressed like this," he declared, his voice firm and unwavering.

"And why not?" Jessica countered, her arms folded across her chest, her stance challenging.

"Do I really need to answer that?" Scott retorted, his mind racing to articulate the myriad reasons why her plan was absurd.

"I’d say it was pretty simple really," Jessica replied, her tone tinged with disappointment. "If you love me, you’d do this."

Scott was taken aback, his words stumbling over each other. "It’s got nothing to do with that, Jessica. Of course, I love you, but this is crazy!"

"I was going to do it for us, but seeing as I can’t, it’s up to you to step up. It’s one meeting, Scott, and then we’ll be set for life. We could be millionaires, and all you have to do is man up and wear a dress for an hour or two," she pressed.

Scott hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I… I’ll make a fool of myself. The attorney will see through the disguise straight away."

"Not with a little training," Jessica asserted, sensing his resolve starting to waver. "With a little practice, I know you can do this. The question is, will you? Think of the money!"

Scott's eyes locked with Jessica's, her gaze pleading. He let out a sigh, a mix of resignation and apprehension. "I’ll… I’ll try, okay. But this isn’t me saying I’ll do it."

"Thank you. Thank you, Babe," Jessica exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and excitement as she reached over to hug him. "I love you, Baby. I’ll help you all the way. I know you can do this."

As Jessica embraced him, Scott's arms hung limply by his side, his eyes fixed on his feminised reflection in the mirror. His mind struggled to reconcile the image before him with the reality of the situation he had just agreed to.

"We’ve got four days until the meeting. I think we should move in here, so you can practice without being disturbed," Jessica suggested.

"Move in here?" Scott echoed, the magnitude of his agreement suddenly dawning on him.

"It makes sense. This place is nicer than yours. And look on the bright side, no more traipsing across town to water the plants every other day," Jessica reasoned, her tone optimistic.

Scott's gaze shifted from the mirror to Jessica, his emotions a blend of fear and resolve. Despite the overwhelming thought of impersonating Amy while living in her apartment, his love for Jessica and the allure of a potentially life-changing fortune bolstered his determination. The risks were significant, yet the possibility of a better life for them both was a compelling force. Embracing both love and the promise of a new beginning, Scott prepared to embark on this daring and unconventional journey.