by Violet Carson
Two weeks had passed since the official sale of Andrews Facilities Management and Klava as she was forcing herself to believe she was again lay awake as the morning sun streamed through the curtains of her large bedroom. She had agreed to go into the office most days for the next two weeks to assist in the handover to the new owners and after that as far as they and her former employees were concerned she was returning to Russia for a few months to catch up with long lost family members. This would create enough of a cover for her to re-emerge as Klava the humble East European cleaner.
She looked around her room at the half packed boxes stacked ready for storage and the first items of her new down-market wardrobe.
At the weekend she had gone out wearing her oldest jeans, a cheap T-shirt and an old pair of trainers that she hadn’t worn in an age and visited one of London’s street markets that as Claudia she would never have even considered as a shopping destination.
She came away with the cheapest looking fake leather Bomber jacket and a couple of mini-skirts, one in lycra and the other in faded denim as well as some cheap vests and a leopard print T-shirt. They were all ghastly, but exactly what she wanted. She also visited a chemist to stock up on some of the bargain make-up on sale and some ultra blonde permanent hair dye. The dye was about three shades paler than her current colour and she hoped that very soon her darker roots would start to show creating the exact image she was after.
She realised that she’d also need cheap Polyester underwear as all of hers was far too expensive looking for an East European cleaner. Today she decided not to visit the office but to again make another visit to the market and a few other high street stores as well as some online purchases to get exactly what she was after.
She felt brave and with only two weeks of this life to go she was becoming far less concerned by what any of the few neighbours that she ever spoke to would think if they saw her looking slightly less well dressed the she normally would. It was a warm day so she decided to wear the new denim mini skirt, lycra vest and the new bomber jacket. She tried on almost all her remaining unpacked shoes on and none were right, they were either far too classy for her new image or were summer sandals and it wasn’t quite that warm so she wore the trainers again which with the mini skirt actually made her look far younger than her 36 years. She made a mental note to herself that today she needed to find a discount shoe shop and buy some very high heels and a pair of cheap flats. She tied her hair back in a tight ponytail and with some slightly brighter eye shadow than she would usually wear looked at herself in the mirror and repeated to herself “Hi I’m Klava, pleeezed to meet yzou” emphasizing her accent as much as possible. She drank a quick coffee and headed off to the underground to get to the market. After just a few such trips she was again getting used to public transport as she used to use it as a student.
She toured a number of shops and purchased a pair of ultra tight jeans another vest and two pairs of shoes: silver coloured ballet pumps and a pair of 4” black patent stiletto heels. Trying them on in the shop she couldn't believe how uncomfortable they felt when compared to her designer heels, but knew she had no choice of she was to be convincing in her new persona. She also purchased some very cheap multi-packs of thongs.
On her way back she also picked up one of the free Russian newspapers from outside one of the tube stations as she wanted to get into the mindset of her new creation as soon as possible. Reading it on the way back home on the tube dressed as she was, she began to feel very different and far more self conscious than she normally would out in public. She couldn't quite understand why she felt so compelled to recreate this new life for herself but the sense of danger was making her feel moist and she could feel herself blushing slightly. This was only accentuated when she looked up and saw the middle-aged man sitting opposite had been staring at her crotch and she briefly caught his eye as he turned away. She didn’t know quite what came over her but she snapped at him:
“Take a goood loook did zyou?” trying to exaggerate her accent as much as she felt she could get away with.
He looked mortified and went even redder than she was and she was torn between apologising to the terrified man and getting an amazing thrill at having the nerve to suddenly display an element of the course uneducated East European cleaner that she was desperate to become.
She quickly returned to reading her paper hoping he wouldn’t cause a scene and she began looking for names of as many shops as she could that sold East European food in London as she knew that she had to totally immerse herself as the new Klava.
Emerging from the underground she had an idea and stopped at the small newsagent that she had only ever been into once or twice previously and bought a packet of plain white postcards. It had just occurred to her to advertise her cleaning services on these cards and that she’d get a new Pay As You Go mobile number and ask some shops near her new East London home to take them. This would create an air of surprise, not knowing who might call and what environment she might find herself in. She didn't know why, but this sense of potential vulnerability seemed strangely thrilling.
She finally got home, opened the door of her large fridge and poured herself a glass of chilled wine and then raced upstairs with her plastic bags of new clothing.
She took her jacket and t-shirt off and then her skirt and trainers and stood admiring herself in her full length wardrobe mirror. She had to admit that she still had a very firm toned figure and could easily pass for under thirty. She undid her silk bra and beautifully lace trimmed panties and reached for her vibrator, she rarely used it, as she normally had enough young lovers to satisfy her but the events of the day had made her feel very turned on. She lay on her bed and started to feel its gentle buzzing as she moved it along her clitoris and labia, but then she stopped and turned it off. She went to her shopping and pulled on one of the cheap pink nylon thongs she had bought, along with the denim mini skirt and looked again in the mirror.
She again lay back on the bed and turned the vibrator back on and forced it into her wet pussy, passed the side of her tight thong and quickly reached the most amazing climax she’d experienced for some time. She then showered and decided to shave off all of her remaining finely shaped pubic hair. She wanted to look cheap and tacky and decided that the next day she would visit a piercing studio and get her clitoris pierced. She wanted to feel cheap tacky and filthy and to become someone else as soon as possible.
Emerging from the shower, she finished her wine, made herself a quick snack and retired to bed again with her vibrator for company and drifted off to sleep thinking “Only two weeks to go!”