Undercover

by Jennifer White

  

Every day in the US alone, 3 women are murdered by husbands or boyfriends. Over 31% of all women report abuse some time during their lives. Women have had enough, and a secret organization was started to end abuse. This organization was run by women, and served the victims. They could call, and their problem was taken care of. Word of the organization spread from woman to woman, and not even they knew the true extent of it.

* * *

 

"Jack, come into my office" said the gruff voice of Anthony Cauldwell of the FBI. Jack was an experienced agent, who worked on undercover operations. He was experienced, but he still had a boyish face that felt trustworthy to people. He smelled a new assignment. This was his favorite part of an investigation, when it was all new and exciting. There would be a lot of dull hard work ahead, with no reward until the case closed. But this was the good part. He eagerly walked into Anthony's office.

"Sit down Jack. We have a new case. What I'm about to tell you is classified. Only those with top clearance even know about this. You know in the movies when an agent says 'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you'? Well, this is like that. From what you'll know after leaving this room, you would be on The List."

The List was the a list of agents on jobs so sensitive that the FBI would shoot them without hesitation if they felt that there was any chance of the information being compromised. But it was also an honor to be on The List, and Jack wasn't afraid. He had been on The List before.

"Lets get down to work" he said eagerly.

"Jack, what I'm going to show you may shock you. There have been a rash of strange incidents lately, but we had no way of knowing they were connected. But as luck would have it, a few of the incidents happened to people that we were watching closely. You'd better sit down to watch this."

He put a DVD in, and hit the play button.

"This is a film of George Carlone. He is a mid-level drug dealer that we're trying to use to get to the big bosses. We have his apartment wired. See how yells at his girlfriend? He's been doing that for the six months that we've been looking in on him. But then he was picked up by a pretty blond woman at a bar, and we lost sight of him for three days."

"Yeah, so?" asked Jack.

"So? Watch something we taped two days ago."

The tape showed George getting upset, and starting to yell. But then he turned, and ran into the bedroom. The other camera showed him stripping naked. He rummaged through the drawer, and pulled out a bra and panties, which he proceeded to put on. Then he dressed, and came back to his girlfriend, where it looked like he was trying to apologize.

"For some reason, whenever he gets upset now, he puts on female clothing. Then he starts to act like a woman. The agent on his tail says he's been wearing a bra full time now, and has even been stuffing it sometimes."

"What the hell did the woman do to him?"

"That's what you're going to find out. But lets look at case number two. Gregory Karanov is a high ranking Capo in the Russian Mafia in New York. You can see from this video that he likes to slap his girlfriend around."

"God, he's terrible! How can she put up with that? It looks painful."

"He said he'd kill her if she leaves or tells anyone."

"That's awful! Aren't you going to do something about it?"

"We were holding this tape as insurance. Physical abuse doesn't get you nearly the sentence that racketeering does! So we were going to wait."

"Terrible" said Jack, shaking his head.

"We lost Gregory for a few days, after he was picked up in a bar..."

"...by a pretty blond woman?"

"Exactly. Now look at him once he came back."

The next scene showed Gregory with his girlfriend. He looked upset, but suddenly kneeled on the floor in front of her. He kissed her feet. He allowed her to spank him. She ordered him around, and soon he was wearing a French maid's outfit, mopping the floor, and doing the windows.

"She completely dominates him now. In bed, she's on top. He goes to 'work', but once he's home, she owns him."

"A total transformation."

"Just like George. But wait until you see this one. We had been tracking Jake 'Snake Eyes' Wilson. He is in a biker gang that distributes coke and pot in the tri-state area. These bikers are real tough SOBs. But they sicken you with some of the things they do. They share their women. They're always high on drugs. Violence, robbery, all sorts of things. We think Jake has committed multiple rapes. We were close to making a bust when Snake Jake was picked up at a bar.."

"Same woman?"

"Looked like her. He disappeared, but we never found him. However, our agent at the bar said that one day a pretty brunette showed up with the blond. She took the brunette over to a table with the bikers, and told them "She is for you."

"Our agent asked the brunette her name. She said 'Jake', but the blond slapped her. 'Janice' she corrected."

"You think Janice is really Jake?"

"We're certain of it. Unless Janice has the exact tattoo that Jake did, on the same ankle, with the same birthmark."

"But we're talking about a woman!" said Jack.

"Yes, but look what we have: three tough men. One now dresses up like a girl and always wears a bra. One who used to beat up his girlfriend. Now he is dominated by girl, dresses up like a maid, and servers her hand and foot. So what's so wild about another one who looks like a real woman?"

"So they have mind control, and they did something to Jake's body?"

"Yes, we think so."

"What happened to Jake?"

"Janice? Oh, the bikers all share her, like they do their other 'bitches'. A nasty term. I hope we can bust the whole lot of them. Scum."

 

Jack was shocked at what was going on. He had never heard of anything like this before.

"Jack, there is more information. We have reason to believe that there is a ring of women who are behind all of this. We sent some men into the field, but they failed to get inside the organization. So we sent out some women. At first, they sent back good information. But all three of them, once they got closer, all stopped reporting. We think they all crossed over to the other side."

"So how can I help?"

"You're not going to like this, but it's our only shot. A man can't get inside. A woman can, but she can only get so far before she moves to the side of her 'sisters'. We need another approach. An agent who will be a man on the job, and not betray us. But one who they will accept as one of their own."

"And how do I accomplish this?"

"By being a woman."

 

"Now hold on! What do you mean? I can't dress up like a woman. They'll make me in a moment. That would never work!"

"Correct. But what I propose is this. We give you surgery to make you look like a woman. We'll leave you alone down there" he said pointing to Jack's crotch, "but you'll need breasts and such. We'll train you on how to walk and talk, how to dress, how to act. Everyone will think you're a woman."

"So I can penetrate the organization."

"Yes. But you're a man, so you'll have no problem doing your job."

"I don't know. That sounds awful risky. Can I think about it?"

"Remember Jack, you're on The List now. If you turn this down..."

"In other words, I can't turn it down."

"As usual Jack, you're right. Or should I say 'Jane'?"

"Not Jane! That's my sister's name."

"Of course it is. We've actually selected the name Wendy for you. Get used to it *Wendy*. And you had better start getting used to thinking of yourself as a girl."

"Yes boss" said 'Wendy' reluctantly.

"Report to the medical center right now. We have no time to lose!"

* * *

 

Jack had been on many other undercover assignments before, but none like this. The first step in preparing was a cultural emersion. If he was going after the Mafia, he had to learn their customs and their traits. Their language, their figures of speech, the way they walked and talked.

Son in that regard, this training was no different. Except that ever since he woke up from the surgery at the medical center, he now had breasts. Two large mounds on his chest which jutted out proudly in front of him. They changed his whole sense of balance for his body, which made his current task of walking in six inch heels all the more difficult.

After they gave him breasts, they put implants in his hips to give him curves. A laser treatment on his chest and face were supposed to prevent the hair from growing back, but he wondered if they were lying about it be temporary.

"Oh well, at least he wouldn't have to shave anymore" he thought as he changed into his leotard and joined the real women for the lunchtime aerobics class at the fitness center.

They made him exercise hard, and his legs were starting to look good. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he danced gracefully with the other women. None of these women knew he was really a man. They just worked here. And he had every single one of them fooled.

His long hair was held up in a ponytail, which swung from side to side as he danced and dipped in time to the music. He could see his reflection on the mirrored wall, and he checked to make sure his makeup was properly applied. By now, he was getting good at putting it on. Not like the first day where they had to bring in a 'makeup artist' to show him the basics.

He scratched an itch on his left arm, and admired his long red fingernails. They got in the way at first, but now he was used to the longer nails. The only problem was that whenever he did something like work around the apartment, he always seemed to be chipping them. No matter how careful he was, he'd have to touch them up after a few days. How did women do it?

After aerobics, he showered in a private room, and changed into his dress. He had quite a collection by now. They had suggested that he wear things that showed off his new breasts, so there would be no doubt that the mounds on his chest were real. That way, he would be more readily accepted as a woman. So he wore a dress with a deep plunging "U-neck" today, one with a decidedly high hem line to boot. Even the few bosses who knew he was really a man had a hard time not looking down at his boobs as he passed them in the hall. His hips swayed side to side as he strutted, looking like a woman's walk to all but the most observant.

With his purse swung over his shoulder, he went into his bosses office. It was time for him to go out into the field. The endless hours with the women tutoring him were over. He had learned much about women, and now could easily pass for one.

 

"Wendy, nice to see you" said Anthony.

Jack came in, sat down, and crossed his legs. The silky pantyhose made them look perfectly smooth and tan. Even knowing that 'Wendy' was really Jack, the beauty in the chair across from his desk made Anthony squirm when he felt the tingle between his legs. 'She' had long flowing hair, a pretty face, gorgeous legs, and her well endowed bust was mostly exposed with the dress she wore.

"Hello Anthony, how are you today?" said Jack in the voice he had been working on for weeks. It was sultry dark and low.

"Wendy, the time has come to deploy you into the field. The police have received many more reports of missing men. There have also been many women who have just turned up, not knowing who they were."

"You think they used to be the men?"

"Exactly. Now we have a an agent who is keeping tabs on a group that we suspect to be involved with this matter. Her name is Ellen, and you will go meet her today at a protest at the capitol."

"What sort of protest?"

"They're protesting the inequality of women in positions of power in our government."

"I'll be there" said 'Wendy'.

* * *

 

Jack arrived at the protest, sign in hand. He looked around, and soon spotted Ellen. They had worked on another case together, and were on a friendly basis. She had seen a recent photo of him, so she recognized 'Wendy' right away. If not for the photo, she would have mistaken Wendy for just another woman at the protest.

"Hi Wendy, nice to see you. I'd like you to meet someone" said Ellen, leading Wendy over to a tall blond woman.

"Hi Ellen, good turnout today, huh?"

"Really good Claire. I've got a friend I'd like you to meet. This is Wendy."

"Hello, nice to meet you" said Jack, surpressing the male urge to do a firm handshake. "Ellen has told me all about you, how wonderful you are dedicating so much time to worthy causes like this."

"Its my passion" said Claire. "How come I've never seen you at one of these before?"

"Well, when I was married, the old goat didn't like me going out and about causing trouble. That's why I had to dump him. If I can't even do what I want with my own life, who am I to tell others what to do?" said Jack, using his cover story he had practiced.

"I hear you" said Claire, nodding.

"Wendy and I met in college. We organized a 'burn your bra' protest for equal rights."

"That was before I filled out. I *need* a bra now!" joked Wendy, motioning towards her very large breasts. All three laughed at the joke.

 

The protest went on, and the three joined the crowd shouting slogans, waving their signs, and hoping to raise awareness for their cause. There were protests all the time in the capitol, and most politicians were now jaded to them. But it was something that had to be done.

When it was all over, Wendy, Claire and Ellen went out to get a salad for lunch at a favorite local restaurant. They talked about politics and feminism, along with how women fared in the world today.

"I just read that article about how often women are victims of domestic violence. We need to do something about that." said Wendy.

"I belong to an organization that is taking a stand" replied Claire.

"When do you meet? That's just what I'm looking for" declared Wendy.

"Well, I'd have to clear it with the others. We're trying to keep things small for now. But we meet on Thursday, in case they give the OK"

"Ooh, Thursday I'm supposed to be at a seminar on women's empowerment over the university. Maybe next week?"

Jack wanted not to appear too eager. That could be a tip-off to a suspect. But by actually refusing an invitation? She would never suspect him. Ellen and he had convinced Claire that Wendy was a woman who cared deeply about women's causes. She had no clue what was really going on.

Wendy exchanged phone numbers with Claire, and they all said their good-byes. The FBI had set up an apartment for Wendy, and had falsified records, so that if they did a search on her, they would find a life's history that seemed to match the cover story. Anthony had been sure they would do a background check on Wendy. He even made a few entries in the police record system, showing that Wendy had been arrested at protests in the 80s. As far as public and private records were concerned, there really was a woman called Wendy North.

* * *

 

The week of waiting gave Jack more time to get used to being 'Wendy' in public. He was getting used to being called 'she'. She even thought of herself as a woman sometimes. When she was shopping for a new skirt, and tried it on in the fitting room, she looked at herself in the mirror. For the first time, she wasn't somewhat shocked or surprised to see a woman staring back at her. It was 'normal' now. She smiled. She was ready to move in.

 

When Thursday finally came, Wendy met up with Claire for dinner, then went in Claire's car to a large house in the suburbs where the meeting was to take place.

"Before we go in, we need to discuss something" she said.

"Sure Claire, what?"

"The organization you are going to join today wants to keep its existence secret, at least for now, until we grow large enough. You can't tell anyone what goes on here tonight."

"That's fair enough."

"Wendy, we did a background check on you to make sure you were a good candidate. I can see that you are a true believer in the cause. You were even willing to go to jail to stand up for women's rights."

Wendy nodded her head.

"The jail was a hell-hole, but it was worth it."

"So you understand that once you go in with me, you're in. If you have any doubts, we will turn around right now and go back home."

"I have no doubts. Lead on" said Wendy, starting to open the car door.

"Wait!" said Claire. She drove on a few blocks away. "In case you chickened out, I didn't want you to know where we really met. This on is it. Follow me."

They got out of the car, and walked in. They were greeted at the door by two women who appeared like friendly greeters. Wendy's trained eye saw that they were carrying guns. They were serious about security!

 

They had a drink and ate fruit, then went with the others to the basement for the actual meeting. Wendy tried not to show any emotion through the proceedings. From what she heard, things were worse than the FBI had ever imagined.

"Progress report?" asked the president.

"This week, we have successfully closed 87 cases. Thirty men who hit their wives are now feminized slaves to them. Twenty two men who verbally abuse their women were reprogrammed to express their anger by wearing women's clothes. and the other 35 were fully feminized."

"Excellent. District 2?"

"Yes Ma'am..." started another woman. District 2? This organization was far more advanced and far larger than ever imagined. Wendy gasped as the numbers added up across the country, then Europe and Asia. HQ needed to know this ASAP."

 

After the status was reported, there were speeches about women's rights, and how they must fight back against the bigger stronger males. Finally, the plans for the next week were announced. Each woman was to talk to other women they knew, and seek out more victims. Once the victims were identified, their male counterparts could be stopped. They would be reprogrammed and or feminized.

Wendy took mental notes, trying to remember the numbers, as well as the names and faces of the women in the meeting. Some were prominent women in the community, who she would never have suspected. But most were just plain, ordinary housewives and mothers. They had enough, and they had banded together to fight back.

* * *

 

Claire led Wendy on a tour of a facility in the other half of the basement. There were several men there, bound and gagged. Two were tied down, IV bags dripping into their arms, as they recovered from their surgeries. Others were hooked up to machines that hummed as they sat there glassy eyed.

"They are being reprogrammed" said Claire.

A woman brought up another man in a wheelchair, and strapped him in.

"Now comes the fun part" said Claire. "You get to push the button, and zap his mind. The device will erase some of his memories, and replace them with gentle feminine ones. In his mind, he will think that he has always been a woman. He will struggle with the fact that his body is male though, so to compensate, he will have an irresistible urge to wear women's clothes. He will only feel comfortable when he is feminine."

Wendy looked at the button. If she pushed it, she would be committing a crime. But if she denied Claire's request, her cover would be blown. She was paralyzed, and didn't know what to do.

"I don't know...destroying a person's mind?"

"He beats his wife Wendy. You are saving her. And you are freeing his mind, curing him. Do it!"

"I'm not sure I can..." said Wendy.

"I didn't think so. You FBI are too high and mighty to do the right thing" said Claire.

Wendy was stunned. Claire knew? How? It was only then that Wendy noticed Ellen had come into the room, and had been standing behind her. Ellen had a syringe full of a clear liquid, and before Wendy could turn, she had poked her arm and emptied it. The room began to spin.

"Sweet dreams babe" said Ellen.

* * *

 

When Wendy came to, she was lying on a table, strapped down. She saw an IV bag dripping into her arm. What had they done to her?

"Ah, she's awake" said Claire.

"Good, we can begin phase two" said Ellen in reply.

"What did you do to me?" said Wendy? She was shocked to hear her voice. It was now high pitched.

"Ready Ellen? Green light!" said Claire.

Ellen pushed a button, and Wendy's eyes glazed over as a feeling of euphoria swept over her. All was glowing and warm. Her mind was in chaos, being so upset and shocked. But slowly, things began to become orderly again. It all made sense now. She sighed. Everything was right.

 

"Tell me Wendy, about your girlhood" said Ellen as Wendy sat up in her bed and sipped her hot tea.

"Well, I would have to say it was the best time of my life. Things were so much simpler then! I thought that wearing the right clothes and having a boyfriend was all that mattered in the world. That was before I ever got a job, and learned what it was like to be sexually harassed."

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean" said Ellen, clasping Wendy's hand. Ellen had been such a good friend. She and Claire had spent a lot of time as Wendy recovered from her operation. She was so sad when they told her that they had to take out her uterus and ovaries. They gave her estrogen pills, which she had started taking every day. She was devastated that she would never be a mother. She decided that since she would never be able to have children now, she would dedicate her life to the cause.

* * *

 

A week later, Wendy walked into Anthony's office.

"What do you have to report?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just a bunch of women who get together and make a lot of noise, but there is nothing behind it."

"So Ellen misled us?"

"No, she thought it was the organization. But it wasn't the right one. She just never got close enough to them to find out."

"That's too bad."

"You should have trusted her more. Just because she's a woman, you didn't have to treat her like a child."

"I guess" said Anthony, not really caring.

"Listen, I would like to stay on this job for a while. Stay in my current persona. I'll keep looking for them, and when I find something, I'll report back to you."

"Good idea. You are doing such a good job of being a woman, that I would never have guessed that you're a man."

"I *am* a woman" said Wendy.

"Good. Keep up the cover. Very convincing. Now go find them" said Anthony, showing her the door.

She didn't understand him. Why didn't he understand that she *was* a woman? She had always been a woman, and that's why she got the job in the first place. Ugh. Men. Who could ever understand them?

  

  

  

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