Get some backup

You grab the pair of breasts on your chest, giving them a generous squeeze with a chuckle. You could hardly believe it was real. These feelings, these tits, this face. You were happier than ever. This pen gadget really worked!

"God, I bet you hate this, don't'cha?" You tease your own reflection.

You chuckle again, lifting your breasts up and letting them drop, enjoying your delicate new voice, your tone and New Yorker accent sounding completely unnatural on it.

You weren't even sure who you were talking to, Elaine or David, maybe even George, but you did know you loved this taunting. But as you stood there thinking, you realized what a waste this was. You didn't just want to live her life, this power had so much more potential. This chick's body could drive any man crazy, and you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. But for that, you would have to make a quick call.

You give a short goodbye to Elaine's beautiful visage in the mirror before reaching to the back of your head to take it off. The spectacle left behind was ridiculous, but it weirdly turned you on. Your scruffy and perverted face ploped on top of Elaine's slim and curvy figure reminded you perfectly of the control you had now, and you loved it.

You reach back to the pile of clothes you left at the floor, finding in the front jeans pocket George's beaten old phone. Soon enough, you were scrolling through his contacts, looking for one particular name. George's life was certainly shitty. Being divorced twice, stuck with paying alimony for a kid he knew for certain wasn't his. For the last few years he has been banging hookers, doing ****, and working minimum wage to stay afloat. He resorted to petty thefts, and even served a few months in jail for it, currently being on parole. He would've probably resorted back to it if it weren't for one thing, the thing he considered his craft. His cons.

George was an artist in the world of conmen, having a billion and one tricks to scam someone's money out of them. From card tricks to phone scams, and from college girls to grown businessmen, nobody was safe. And that's exactly how he met his partner, Mickey. A fellow conman, George met him at a bar he frequents when funnily enough, Mickey tried to con him. He was good, but George saw right through it. And on a kind spill, he offered to help him improve his scam. Lo and behold, minutes later the two managed to scam a wealthy investor out of nearly 1,000 bucks for a simple dime they had convinced him was a collector's coin. And so, a friendship was born. And now, you had a recipe to make you both rich.

"Oy, what is it?" Mickey's gravely voice answered, tortured by years of excessive smoking. "I'm busy." You roll your eyes at his heavy breathing. He was probably in the middle of banging some hooker.

"Get your fat ass down to Jameson's. I have a new act that's gonna blow your tits off."

You couldn't help but chuckle at your own joke, cupping the perfect pair on your chest.

Mickey growls, but reciprocates. "Gimme 30."

With a smirk, you hang up, and throw the phone aside. You grinned at your strange reflection again, adoring the sight presented from the neck down, but sorry that you will have to take it off. Unless...