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Identity Theft
Stealing a great deal of money is not so difficult. Keeping hold of your ill gotten gains is somewhat harder. I worked for....well let's just call it a small outpost of a large UK financial firm. Working in a small office, with few employees, meant that there were less controls in place to stop the determined thief. Being part of a large firm meant that there was potentially a lot of money available for any embezzler to liberate. In my first week in the new posting I mused how easy it would be for me to steal money from my employer. I even started to prepare a report to head office to warn them of my concerns.
I suppose I should introduce myself to you. Let's call me John. That's not the name I was born with. But it will do. I was 27 years old when I was sent by head office to the distant posting. I was considered to be a bit of whizz kid which is why I was made manager at such a young age. I was nothing special. Average height; average weight; average looks. I suppose average summed me up quite well. But I loved finance and was good at my job. That meant that I was well paid. And people with money, even when superficially average, are very attractive to the ladies. So I had lots of short term girlfriends. Well that's not quite true. I had lots of sex!
I did not mind taking up the distant posting as I had no close family, and few friends that I could not discard. But frankly I became very bored very quickly. There was just not enough work to keep my brain occupied. So more and more my mind returned to thinking about how I could, were I a thief, steal large amounts of money. Getting the money from my employers accounts, and through a chain of transfers and into untraceable accounts that I controlled, was easy. Well easy for someone with my financial skills. But I could not for long hide the fact that the money had disappeared. My first thought as to how to keep the money and not get caught was to hide my involvement. I came up with a way as to how that could be done. If my employers could not link the theft to me, I could stay out of prison. But then I could not spend the money. If I ever did, assuming that the company would keep looking for their cash for all eternity, then I would get caught. If I could not spend it then why steal it?
The other choice was to disappear with the money. But how was I to do that? It seemed like an impasse. Then I heard about a criminal part of the internet. You know that advertise places where you can buy drugs or weapons or launder money. I tentatively started to explore it. There were plenty of people advertising fake documents. But how was I to know how good the fakes were? And I would still look like me. A bad fake passport could mean my arrest, and when they looked at my fingerprints or other means of identification they would unmask the real John. I would end up in prison. For months I kept coming back to this problem. After all it helped to keep my mind busy. But each time I decided that I could not be certain to make it work. And if I could not make it work, then nor could anyone else. So I forgot the idea of making a report to my bosses.
But then something happened that forced my hand. I was sent, either by error or by someone trying to warn me, a copy of an internal company document that spelt out plans to change the focus of the firm that would involve not only closing the outpost I was working in, but would also mean that a lot of people with my grade and skills would be made redundant. And although I was good at my work, the jobs market was tight after the financial crash, and I might find it difficult to get new employment, and even harder to get a job at the rate of pay I was then enjoying. I could see poverty staring me in the face. OK I would not exactly be starving. But poverty is a relative concept. I was used to a very high standard of living. Anything less looked like destitution to me. According to the document the plans would be made public and implemented in less than 2 weeks.
I went back to my plans to make myself rich at the expense of this company that was planning to ruin me. It would be justice on them. One site I looked at on the subterranean internet had the intriguing message 'Want to become someone else? Contact us.' Over the next couple of days I exchanged messages with a person on the other end of the net. What they promised was to transform you, including your looks and even your fingerprints, and then set you up with all the documents and history of another person so that you could live quite openly as that person. Guaranteed. For an extra fee they would attempt to make it look as if your current persona had died in an accident. What gave their story additional credence was the fact that they did not promise that the second aspect would succeed as they said it was very difficult. But they assured me that they would use their best endeavours to make it happen.
My self-imposed deadline - which was a week after I received the document - was getting close. So I told them I was interested and asked them the price. The message came back. Ten million US dollars. If I wished to accept, I was to go to a pre-arranged place. There I would transfer half the money to them. I would then disappear for 6 months. At the end I would be someone completely different and would pay them the balance of the money. I looked at this message for nearly an hour. Then I took a deep breath and said 'yes'.
The details were sorted out fairly quickly. I sent them a few photographs and details of my physical characteristics. I told them that I had been called back to London - presumably to fire me - and would be flying out two days later. I had to change planes at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport to fly to London. They told me to leave the airport rather than change planes. Then I must go up to the main concourse and outside and wait at the number 12 bus stop. Someone would come and ask me if my name was John. I was to reply, 'well it is now'. And they would take it from there.
I spent the next 24 hours setting up my theft. It was near the end of a quarter and I was able to move nearly 70 million dollars through a labyrinth of channels and into a number of accounts I had set up. I estimated that as it was already the weekend in London, that I would have nearly 2 days before anyone noticed the money was missing, and probably another day before it was attributed to me. Stage one was complete. There was no going back. I had been told to make sure that I brought all the identification I could - presumably to help with my disappearance - but otherwise to take what I would normally carry on such a trip. So I took my usual small suitcase, that fitted into the overhead lockers on the plane, and my laptop.
Although it was a long flight, I did not sleep very much. Maybe that was as well. When I presented my passport at Schiphol the guy looked at me and asked if I was alright. I was nervous and guess I looked a bit shifty. "I can't sleep on planes. I am just tired," I said. He gave me back my passport and I was soon standing at bus stop 12.
After a couple of minutes a man came and stood behind me. I wondered if he was my contact. He was fairly tall and certainly a little bit taller than me. He had mid brown hair and brown eyes and was wearing an expensive suit. He was probably in his early 30's. I looked at him waiting for the question. But he just looked back at me. So I turned away. A BMW car with dark tinted windows drove up to the stop. The man behind me whispered in my ear 'Are you John?'
"Well I am now," I replied and he leant forward and opened the back door of the car. He shoved me to get in and then got in himself. There was a darkened glass partition inside the car so that I could not see who was in the front. As the car drove off, the guy next to me pushed my head against the window and plunged a hypodermic syringe into my neck. I was soon out cold.
I awoke, lying on a bed, in a windowless room. I learnt that it was a full day later. I was naked. The guy from the bus stop was sitting on a chair reading. He looked up and noticed that I was awake and came over. He was smiling and held his hand out. "Call me Max," he said. "First things first. You need to give us 5 million US dollars." He handed me my own laptop. I started it up. He gave me the details of the account that the money was to be transferred to. The money was swiftly moved from one of my accounts to theirs. The man's 'phone buzzed and he looked at the message. "Very good. We have the money. Would you like something to drink?" he asked.
"Coffee would be nice," I replied. He went into another room and came back with 2 mugs which he put down on the table near where he had been sitting. He looked at me. I did not move.
"I suggest you come and drink it here. We will be more comfortable. I know you have no clothes on, but as it was me that stripped you, I know what, shall we say, you look like." I got out of bed and went and sat opposite him. He was still smiling.
"This is where you will live for about the next 6 months. You will not be allowed to leave until we have completed our task. But there is everything you could need here, so I think you will be comfortable."
"You mean I am your prisoner?"
"No, no, no. When I said you could not leave, I meant you cannot leave if you want us to complete your metamorphosis into another person. But if at any point you wish us to stop, then just tell me. You can pay me the rest of the money and we will take you wherever you want to go. You will then be on your own. But while we are creating your new identity you must do as we say and that means you must stay here. Do you understand? We have plenty of experience of giving people new personas. So you should trust us."
"Yes I understand. Where are we? What happens next?"
"We are in an eastern suburb of Berlin. We are currently putting into action a plan that we sincerely hope will persuade the world that you are dead. I would say that we succeed completely in about half of the attempts we make. And in about a third of the cases there is some dispute as to whether the person is dead or not. It is in a comparatively small number where we fail and the world knows that the death was a fake. So the odds are on your side." Max picked up a folder from the table while I drank some coffee. He got out a number of photographs which he placed on the table in front of me. They were all of the same man. A couple were just face and head shots. One showed him standing in what looked like a garden, and another showed him astride a BMW motorbike wearing a red white and blue one piece leather suit. In the last photo he had a broad grin on his face.
"This is who you will become. His name - your name - is Johannes Dieper."
"But I look nothing like him. He has blond hair. He looks as if he is taller than me. He is far more muscular. Who is he?" I looked at the photo's again. "You did not kill him did you?"
"No we did not kill him or anyone else. We are not murderers. In a sense Johannes Dieper does not exist. The old East German state made detailed plans for how they would infiltrate their spies into the west for many years into the future. They therefore created full biographies for people that did not exist. Every year they created phantom births and medical records and school records for children, which they kept up to date. And, through the years, everything else about a person, so that anyone who looked into their history would find detailed information that was created at the time it was supposed to have happened. And when the new united Germany was created these people automatically became citizens of the new country. My Father worked for the old East Germany and he took a number of these 'legends' for his pension. He kept them going throughout the years. The photographs were created by clever use of computer graphics, to allow us to apply for various official documents, such as driving licenses. Then when someone like you comes along and we have found a body that will become the real person, the legend takes his physical place in society. I took over from my Father when he died.
"It is true that there are some significant differences between the old you and Johannes. I will be honest with you. There were only so many legends remaining and it is the closest match we have. But that is both a problem and a benefit. If you want to disappear completely, it is far better for your appearance to differ markedly from your old self. It then becomes practically impossible that anyone will recognise you. But it does mean we have much difficult work to do to make you look like him. But we are skilled at what we do, and as I said on the website, we guarantee the transformation. None of the many people who have passed through our hands have had any problems. There will be much to do and we will start tomorrow."
He showed me around what I suppose you could call an apartment, except that it had no windows. He told me that it was underground. There was a small kitchen and bathroom as well as the bed sitting room. It was well provisioned and I had access to television and radio and I could surf the net, although I could not send any messages out. But there were no clothes. Max told me that I would remain naked for the time being. He said that it would help with the healing process although I suspected that his main reason was that it would make it harder for me if I decided to leave without paying the rest of the money. He left me at about 5.00pm - I had found a clock - and I prepared something to eat and sat down to watch the television. Although I had some basic school German I chose BBC world. I was watching a news bulletin when my picture appeared on the screen. The caption said "British Banker in £100 million fraud dies in car crusher". The news reader went on to say that the remains of my body had been found inside an old Toyota, in a car crusher in France. A policeman was interviewed who gave scant details of my crime and said that they believed that I had been double crossed and murdered by my criminal associates, who they were still trying to identify. I turned the television off. So my employers were exaggerating how much I had stolen. I guessed that they were going to try to hide other losses in my crime. They were clearly as dishonest as I was. I went to bed early and slept fitfully.
Max arrived early the next morning. "Did you kill that man they found in the crusher?" I asked.
"I have explained to you that we are not killers."
"Then who was he? How did he die?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" I nodded. "We dug up a recently buried body that broadly fitted your description. With some carefully planted documents and some of your blood - which we took while you were unconscious - we staged your death. So far it seems to be working. The French can be very sloppy with the death of foreigners which is why we chose to have you crushed to death in that country." I must have gone a little pale. I certainly felt a bit squeamish. "You asked to know, and our crime is no worse than yours. If I had known you had stolen so much, I might have asked for more." He smiled at me.
"I stole less than 70 million US dollars. My employers - or maybe the police - are lying."
"Well it doesn't matter. I am happy with ten. We have much to do. The first stage will be some plastic surgery. I am afraid it will be painful. Do you want me to go into details?" This time I decided I would rather not know and shook my head.
Max took me into a room that had been locked when he showed me the apartment. It was a mini operating theatre. I lay down on the table as I heard others come through the front door. A few minutes later two men entered the theatre. They both had on gowns and masks so that I could not see their faces. They said nothing but one anesthetised me and I was soon dead to the world.
I woke up back in bed. Max was looking at me as I opened my eyes. "Do not try to speak. Your jaw is wired up. Johannes has a much squarer jaw so we had to reconstruct yours. We have also changed the shape of your eyes and made your nose a little smaller. And various other things to your face. We have changed your fingerprints. That was a trick that the old Nazi's perfected after the war. Oh and we have circumcised you." I must have looked alarmed. "According to Johannes's medical records he was circumcised. So you have to be. We are perfectionists. You asked not be told the details before the operation." He offered me some water and I took a few sips through a plastic tube. I slept on and off for the next 36 hours. Max stayed the whole time and gave me pain killers when I asked for them, and more sips of water. Every time I woke up my face felt as if it was on fire.
It was two weeks before the stitches were removed and my jaw was unwired. Max had told me that I must improve my German and learn my personal history, and indeed the history and way of life of my newly adopted country. He showed me how to put on a large helmet attached to a computer that fed me images and sounds. He said it was the best way of completely immersing myself in the new me. I spent long periods attached to the machine. It took my mind off the pain I still felt and it gave me something to do. As I said before, I have an active mind and like to keep it busy. But it was not until my jaw was unwired that I could really practise my German.
I described myself at the beginning of this account as average. The person who looked back at me in the mirror once the stitches and wire were removed was anything but average. My eyes were now more almond shaped. My cheek bones seemed a little higher. My chin was now decidedly square jawed and my lips seemed fuller. There was still some scaring and puffiness, but I did not recognise the me that looked back. I was beginning to like Johannes. It took me rather longer to get used to my new circumcised cock. For a couple of weeks I sat down to piss. I also did not get the throbbing erection the old me had had most mornings. I told Max about my concerns.
"Have you tried masturbating?" I shook my head. "No? Well I suggest you do. When I have gone of course."
Once Max had left me alone, I went into the bathroom and started playing with my cock. It soon became fat and erect. It was a different feeling as I stroked it, slowly at first. But it was now three weeks since I had come. I increased the pace and shot a lot of spunk into the sink. Well at least I now knew that I still worked.
The next day I was back in the operating theatre. It was not necessary to give me any aesthetic. All the hair was removed from my body - head, arms, legs chest, crotch - all of it. I was then rubbed with a pungent smelling solution. I was told to close my eyes, and to keep them closed, as a bright light was shone on me. Then the same was done with my back. I do not know how long I was under the lamp for. But eventually Max helped me to the shower, as I could not see. I took a long shower as my eyes came back into focus. As I dried myself I looked at my hairless head and face. I looked away quickly. I noticed Max standing in the doorway. "Your hair will start to grow again quite quickly and you will be a permanent and natural blond. I promise."
"You could make a fortune with this on the beauty market," I said.
"Not really. A one off treatment is not what that type of market wants. It wants lots of repeat custom. It is much more profitable. And anyway this is another secret of East Germany that I am not inclined to share."
"Is it safe?"
"We think so. But life is a risk. You must have known that when you stole so much money."
We went back into the bed sitting room and had some coffee. "I think that you will not need any more surgery. Although we can only be sure of that when everything is completely healed. But if you do, it will only be minor nips and tucks. But there is one more thing that we must do. You noticed that Johannes is taller than you. Actually it is only one and half centimetres. But we will need to stretch you. For the next week or so, you will have to spend several hours each day in a contraption that will make you that little bit taller. I am told that it is unpleasant rather than painful. You will be able to continue with your studies while on the rack." He laughed at what he must have thought was a good joke! And that is what happened. I would call it painful rather than unpleasant. But I tried to concentrate on my lessons. After 9 days, Max was happy that I was the correct height. With my blond hair now growing, my face and head really looked like the Johannes in the photo's.
It was at that time that Max began to speak to me only in German and would only accept me speaking to him in German. He did not forbid me to watch English language television, but urged me not to. He said that he was fulfilling his part of the contract and I had to work hard to fulfil mine if we were to have complete success.
After my time on the rack, he told me I had to go on an intensive exercise routine to improve my body to look like the Johannes in the photos. So he took me through two 90 minute exercise sessions a day. (The operating theatre was converted into a makeshift gym). He would then give me a massage and I would lie under a sun lamp as I was going pale from lack of sunlight. Day by day my body improved and Mr Average became Mr Alpha Male, courtesy of the East German Secret Service - and of Max of course. I continued with my studies, although it seemed to me that they kept changing in some small way that I could never quite put my finger on.
I had now been in this cocoon for 4 months and was over half way to growing my wings and flying away. I was eating breakfast - mainly fresh fruit for the health conscious Johannes - when Max arrived with another guy of about my age. He was tall and dark haired and I knew him, although I could not think from where. He looked at me, as if he recognised me as well. He seemed to exude a power that I found a little in intimidating. I stood up to shake his proffered hand and together we both noticed that I had a monster erection. I seized my hand back and tried to cover my embarrassment.
"I am sorry. I don't know what happened. Can't I have some clothes Max?"
"Please let's all sit down," Max said. "This is Dieter. He is your partner."
"Partner? What do you mean?" And then I remembered where I knew him from and why I had got the erection. I had seen him in the mask and he had been fucking me. "What the hell have you done to me?".
Max looked embarrassed. "While I have not actually lied to you, I have not told you the whole truth. The East Germans trusted no one - not even their own spies - and maybe not even themselves. So they teamed people together to watch one another. These could be a man and a woman or two women - or, as in Johannes's case - two men. We have been conditioning you both to have strong attractions for each other, so that at least when you set out on your new life, you will be and act like a couple. If you get divorced....."
"We're married?"
"Yes. You married in Amsterdam 18 months ago. We have photographs of the ceremony. The picture of you on the motorbike was just before you set off on your honeymoon."
"Are you mad?"
"No, I don't think so. We promised to make you a new person and we will deliver on that. My offer for you to leave remains open. But we are so close to giving you freedom and the chance to enjoy your wealth, that it would be a pity to give it up - not to mention 10 million US dollars - so near success."
"You expect me to pay you another 5 million?"
"Yes you will as that is the terms of our contract. Please don't make me threaten you."
"But who is Dieter?"
"He is another omission on my part. An organisation like ours cannot operate completely under the radar of the authorities. To keep them happy, and so that they help us maintain the fiction of the created identities, we give some people they refer to us new personas. Dieter worked for the intelligence authorities of the new state - the good guys. But his cover was blown and he is now wanted by the bad guys. You can make up your own mind as to who they are. So he needed to disappear and this is how he is going to do it. As your partner. I would suggest that neither of you talk about your previous lives even in private. You know your own new history. Just live that, even with each other. I will leave you now to get acquainted. There is no requirement for you to....well you know what. But work on the basis that for the next year or 18 months you are partners. When you are both established in your new lives in the open, it will be up to you to decide how to go forward, be that together or separate.
Max left, and Dieter and I sat and looked at each other for a few minutes. Then Dieter asked "Do you remember our wedding? I do quite clearly, although I know that is impossible."
"So do I. I remember driving to a hotel on the Belgian coast on our matching motorbikes wearing matching leather one piece suits. I remember.....I know Max said not to talk about the past but I must ask one question. Was the old you gay?"
He nodded. "And I really want to go to bed with you. I don't know if that is normal animal passions or whether it is part of the conditioning. Do you feel anything? Your erection implies that you do?"
I stopped and thought for a moment. The old me would have said an instant no, but my feelings were now rather more complex. "I don't know if this makes any sense, but I would like to go to bed with you, Dieter, but I don't really like the idea of going to bed with a man."
"Do you want to try? Max did not mention one thing to you. He thought it might be better coming from me. I guess from what you say that you have never been fucked. But Johannes certainly has been. It would be best if your arse....well shall we say....looked the part."
"You mean you want to fuck me to stretch my hole?"
"Well we could do it with dildos and things if you really don't want to."
"Will it hurt much?"
"If you relax and trust me it won't be too bad. But yes it will hurt at first I am afraid."
"Can you take your clothes off?"
Dieter got up and moved close to me. He removed his jacket and then took off his tee shirt. He was as well muscled as I now was but had dark hair all over his chest. I gasped as it looked so beautiful to me and I put my hand out and stoked his torso. He smiled at me. He removed his boots and socks followed by his jeans. He stood in front of me in just his white briefs that were being tented by his cock. The look on his face told me that I should pull his underwear down. I put my hands on each side of his waist and hooked my fingers into the band on the top of his briefs. Then I slowly pulled them down. His cock was dragged down by the material until it was able to spring free. I was mesmerised by the long thick tool with the circumcised helmet pointing at me. I think I must have licked my lips as Dieter said "You can suck it if you want to."
I took his cock in my hand about half way down the shaft and moved my open mouth to surround his cock head. I licked it with my tongue, but did not take any more until he put his hands behind my head and encouraged me to take more in my mouth. I did not resist until I felt it near the back of my throat and I felt a gag coming on. I pulled my head off his tool and looked up at him while still holding his cock in my hand. "I remember that going down my throat, but that's not possible."
"I remember too. Deep throating is something I like to make you do to me. It is possible and with practise you will swallow if for real." He gently stoked the blond hair on my head.
"Dieter I am very scared about this, but half of me wants you to fuck me. And if I am to be Johannes I have to know what it is like and be comfortable with it. I want us to go to bed now and I want you to make love to me as I remember you doing and I want you to fuck me. And if I try to back out and tell you to stop, I want you to go the whole way, even if you have to force me. More and more memories are coming to the surface and I know you were always forceful in bed. We both liked it that way, I think. Will you do it?"
He didn't reply, but he put his hands under my armpits and I stood up. He moved his mouth towards mine and we kissed for both the first and the millionth time. His tongue came into my mouth and joined mine in curling around the other. He moved his hands from my head, obviously content that I was not going to try to escape, and massaged the cheeks of my arse. I felt a finger moved towards my hole. I broke our kiss. "No. I want the first thing up there to be your cock and not your finger."
We went to the bedroom and I lay down and he got on top of me. I had stopped thinking about how I was in bed with a man. I just gave myself up to the moment and to this man. We kissed more and his hands went all over my body causing ripples of pleasure to flood through me. My nipples became very sensitive as he played with them and the more sensitive they became the harder he was with them. But the pain felt good, as it did when he squeezed my balls.
The foreplay must have lasted for 20 or 30 minutes and I was enjoying both him and his body more and more, and certainly more than any woman I had ever been with. Maybe it was because he was in control of me. Then he moved back and knelt between my legs. He put my knees over his shoulders exposing my arse. I felt the wetness of his cockhead at my entrance. He increased the pressure and started to enter me. My channel felt full as he slowly went in. I know that it hurt - and hurt a lot - but I felt quite relaxed as I knew that I wanted this and that he wanted to make this good for me. It was painful and it was glorious. I felt his heavy balls against my arse. He was fully inside me. He moved down onto me so that we could kiss again as he started leisurely to fuck me. The pain lessened as I felt the seed rising in me. He increased his pace and like in so many memories when he had fucked me before, we came at almost the same time. As our climaxes ended, he kissed me one more time. Then he carefully extracted his penis and rolled to lie alongside me.
"I think you enjoyed that," Dieter said. "It was just as I remember it. Wonderful. The more we do it, the easier and better it will become for you. And I have a big sexual appetite. I think I will fuck you at least once a day. I know I can satisfy you completely."
He then looked at me and could see that there were tears rolling down my cheek. "What's the matter? Did I hurt you too much?"
I looked him in the eye. "No. It is just that I know I love you with a total passion and commitment. I want you to fuck me and fuck me hard every day. Is that me or is it just conditioning?"
"Let us give ourselves the 18 month together out in the world, just as Max suggested, to find out."