On The Lam 4

I am Inspector Winters of Scotland's Specialist Crime Division, writing to appeal for information concerning the whereabouts of David Simpson, the real identity of April Showers and the organisation known as "on the lam".

David Simpson is a Caucasian and UK national, born in May 1999. He is believed to be 5'8" tall, of slight build and his last known address was in Edinburgh, Scotland. He is wanted in connection with the K9 crypto scam and a warrant for his arrest was issued in June 2022. So far, he has evaded justice.

In November 2024, during an unconnected investigation of the Dark Web known as Operation Dark Star, the attached email and diary entries were discovered. We believe the diary was written by David Simpson. If true, it points to him living under a new identity. It also implicates a porn creator known as April Showers with assisting David. Further, it suggests there is a criminal organisation which assists fugitives known as "on the lam"; a slang expression meaning to be on the run from the authorities.

I have decided to publish the diary in full in case any incidents or details resonate with events that members of the public may recall.

We are appealing for any videos or images of April Showers or her partner referred to as Ken. Any information about "on the lam" or the person named as Maxine would also be of great assistance. You can supply information anonymously via our web page or by phoning Police Scotland.

Thank you in advance for your support

Bob Winters

The Email

Hi V,

I want to add a testimonial to our dark pages. Below is my intro and the link below is to a diary blog written by an ex-client, David Simpson. He was one of the masterminds behind the K9 crypto scam and made a fortune. We got David away so there is a good story in this. There were some downsides which you will need to edit out, and if he says anything that might embarrass me or help the police then please remove it. I have been too busy to read this. Here is my intro:

"At On the Lam we go to great lengths to help wanted criminals like you avoid arrest and re-settle abroad under a new identity. One success story is David Simpson, wanted since June 2022 for his daring K9 crypto scam that netted millions. David now lives comfortably under a new identity thanks to our network and expertise. Below is David's story in his own words."

Speak soon,

Maxine

CEO of On the Lam, a charity dedicated to supporting criminals on the run

Diary Entries

June 18, 2022

The last few days have been bloody awful. On Tuesday morning I went cycling to keep out of the way of my cleaner. I knew my elder brother Michael was flying to Moscow to finalise our crypto exit, and my flights were booked for the end of June. Really there wasn't much to do beyond daydreaming about yachts and fast cars.

About 9:30 I got a call from K to say Michael had been arrested and the police had raided my flat. Fuck. I ditched the phone and cycled to the City Centre. I knew I'd be on CCTV but I had on a smog mask and Oakleys, so I'd be OK for a bit.

We had planned for this, but it wasn't a plan I ever intended to use. I cycled to Hanover Street and found the phone number I had etched into the glass of the phone box. It's in code and looks like a manufacturers mark, but it's the emergency number for On the Lam. I called Maxine for a pick-up and cycled to meet her at a safe place.

Since Tuesday I have been stuck in a bedsit, hearing about myself on the local news. I am really trapped here. My only clothes are pretty distinctive - dayglow lime lycra one-piece with "K9 Crypto Cycling" in 8-inch letters. The citywide CCTV is now tuned in to find me through facial recognition alone, so for now I am stuck here in a bathrobe watching daytime TV and eating tinned food. I hope Maxine gets a plan together before I die of boredom or bad diet.

June 22

Maxine has scanned my face with a 3D scanner and matched it to the people on her database willing to loan me a passport. Weirdly, I am an 83% match to a woman called April who has red hair and is passably hot. Maxine says that isn't good enough to fool anyone, but a little surgery to reshape my jaw would make all the difference. And I'd need hair removal and skin treatment. All that could be arranged. Once I looked a bit more like April then Maxine would put a detailed plan together.

I am not sure if I want to do this. If I just put on a wig and skirt for the ten minutes it takes to go through passport control then I'd agree. But surgery sounds too drastic. I am a bloke after all. Hair I don't care about. No problem shaving it all off. And loosing stubble is fine, it will grow back eventually. But surgery?

On the flip side, it's just a chin job. It's not essentially very feminine, and anyway I can always grow a beard later to hide a girly chin.

To keep everything moving along I have agreed to getting exfoliated and some basic cross-dressing to avoid CCTV to get me across town to where I have some cash stored.

June 26

Maxine and I had a spat. Her idea of a "basic make-over" was well beyond what I had in mind.

Firstly, facial electrolysis took a full day. I agreed to it but thought it would be over in 20 minutes. And I owe her a grand for it! That was unexpected.

I was so fed up that I started to argue this wasn't needed. I just needed enough of a disguise to collect £40k from the honour bank without CCTV picking me up. But Maxine says it needs to be done properly because if I get caught then she doesn't get paid and maybe On the Lam is compromised.

In the end she won. "If I didn't like it then I could move out". Frankly I have nowhere to go, other than to turn myself in.

Next day she had some hairdresser come over and my hair, always long, is now red and wavy. My hair looks like Christina Hendrix in Mad Men, but then I suppose that's what April looks like. My legs got waxed, and Maxine said she will sort out some clothes.

June 27

Maxine has done some shopping for me. She started hooking on a plain, black satin, uplift bra with matching panties then had me carefully smoothing a pair of sheer black pantyhose up my hairless legs. She padded the bra with some silicon falsies, then had me sit down while she did my make-up.

She applied a moisturiser in upward strokes, then a primer that smelled of watermelon. She brushed on foundation then a bronzer to create some warmth - I'd been out of the sun for over a week.

Maxine told me my eyebrows need a lot of work, but for now she plucked a little and applied a black eyebrow mascara. She chose a soft pink lipstick and applied eyeliner to my upper eyelids.

It struck me like a bolt of lightning. Maxine was getting turned on. She is about the same age as my mother, but there was no doubt she was enjoying this on multiple levels. I figured this wasn't the right time to investigate - I had a task to perform.

I slipped into a gold shiny leopard-print blouse and a black leather-look skirt that came to my mid-calf. She's clearly been to the high street because the pointed-toe kitten-heel sling-backs all came from the same shop.

Just when I thought I was done she spritzed me with Angel perfume and handed me a black tote bag. Good point - I would need somewhere to stow a fat envelope of cash.

Catching myself in the mirror was the strangest experience. I just did not recognise myself. The young woman staring back at me was simply not David Simpson. Inhaling my own perfume and feeling the silky blouse on my shoulders, plus the weight of the silicon breast forms, was starting to turn me on too. I couldn't imagine how I'd feel when I stepped outside though.

The first ten minutes were sheer terror. I am in a residential area. There is no one about, or at least everyone who is about is absorbed in their own world. But my heart beat so fast I thought I was going to collapse. In the end I figured I could just do this on autopilot. Stop thinking David, start walking. No one is looking.

It would be dumb of me to explain how the honour banking system works, but I can assure you it is secure (there is a man with a fingerprint reader) and your cash is delivered by an elderly Indian lady who leaves the Edinburgh Post behind with your cash wrapped in the quiz pages. All in all, my first outing enfemme was a complete success and I returned to the bedsit within an hour carrying enough cash to hopefully get me out of the UK.

Maxine was still buzzing when I came in. I remember telling her to "buy herself something nice, doll" as I handed over the agreed fee. We decided to go for dinner to the bistro.

It was a fun evening. Maxine confessed that she had worked as a beautician and was really pleased with how I had "turned out". And we spoke about getting me out of the UK. A told her I needed to get to Estonia because I could collect some funds. If you scam crypto for a living then you naturally end up with pots of money in odd locations. The Estonia nest-egg is enough for a good few years.

Waking up next to Maxine was a bit odd. I remember kissing on the way back from the bistro. I remember sucking on her nipples. She definitely went down on me for a bit, and I most definitely fucked her in the missionary position. She had said "fuck me". I have never heard a woman speak like that. She is so confident, and we both know this is just for fun. None of that "I love you" crap that the girls I normally date get into. Last thing I need is to have her parents ask me about how a crypto currency makes so much money with so little effort.

July 15

I haven't written for a while. A lot has happened.

My dad had a Johnny Cash CD with the song about a guy stealing a car one piece at a time. There is a bit that goes...

But up there at the courthouse

They didn't laugh

Cost to type it up took the whole staff

And when they got through the title weighed fifty pounds.

They have thrown the book at Michael. Money Laundering, market manipulation, various financial services offences and conspiracy to commit fraud. In the past, guys got off with four years and out in two for good behaviour. This looks a lot worse. I am 100% committed to getting out of the UK before they find me.

I went to the cosmetic surgery clinic with Maxine. I am a world-class liar, but this is a big one to pull off. "Do you really want to look more feminine or are you just evading justice?" is a question I could do without. Maxine was my stepmom (I couldn't handle her pretending to be my mom knowing we had fucked!)

The session started easy. Past health forms, allergies, confirm I am on hormones (I lied) etc, then a quick x-ray. The surgeon seems OK, just the usual staff like "don't eat in the morning" and "get someone to drive you home in the afternoon". He said £6k, which I said I'd pay in cash, and he didn't blink. Then the kicker.

"We have some new breast inserts from Thailand that are designed specifically for transsexuals. They can be inserted without hormone therapy and the surgery is very lightweight. Given that the costs of preparation and anaesthetics are part of the planned surgery, why don't you accelerate your transition?"

I hadn't planned for this. I wiggled. "I can't afford it" was countered by "these breast forms come with slow release hormones, so you will be saving hundreds a month. I can insert them for just £1400." This is where I hoped Maxine would come to the rescue, but she did the exact opposite. "Sounds like a great opportunity, and I will lend you the money of you need it".

I was truly cornered. I could of course just shout "no fucking way, I just need to use a woman's passport to get away from the UK police", which I considered.

Now I have titties. Well, more like two ice hockey pucks under my nipples which will expand into breasts of apparently an unknown size. To begin with I was furious with Maxine, but it does kinda make sense. I don't know how long I will need to keep up being April and nothing says "I am a girl" louder than cleavage. I expect this time next month I will have something to put in a bra that isn't made from silicon.

Maxine said she has wanted to rent out her bedsit for some time but needed my money to pay for some building work. I have now moved into a spare room at her flat. She hasn't said, but I get the feeling the room used to be an S&M playroom. Black ceiling, dark red walls, full length black curtains and nets, but most of all the fake timber supports with holes in them for bondage eyes. I can believe this was (or maybe is) one of Maxine's side hustles by the way she has been behaving.

It's not just her. The ice hockey pucks are designed to leak female hormones. The doctor didn't really talk about that because I lied when I told him I was already taking hormones, so I guess he thought I knew that it would be hard to keep an erection. Fucking Maxine is no longer an option so she has found other ways to make me useful.

When she is at her part-time day job I am left with a list of chores. Usually she locks me into the 5" heels which she tells me I have to get comfortable wearing. Most days I wear the PVC Hobble Maid dress because that's what Maxine wants. It's tight, wipe down if I splash myself while cleaning and locks on at the neck. No way could I go out dressed like this. If I do my chores and succeed in the make-up challenge that Maxine leaves for me then she will release me when she gets home. I know this is super-kinky, but I secretly like being Maxine's maid.

Maxine gets home about 2pm. Sometimes she has me lick her to orgasm. If she is in a good mood then she puts on some washing up gloves and rubs my dick through my sheer high-waist black panties while calling me a slut and a cheap whore. I cum really fast and it leaks into my panties which Maxine makes me keep on.

If we go out then I'll be wearing lower heels and a dress that does not attract much attention. There are always little improvements Maxine wants to make to me. At the nail bar, medium length French tips with diagonal diamante stripes were selected for me. I wasn't given a choice because that's Maxine's new thing - I don't get choices, ever.

The earrings I wear are also diamante. They're really heavy. Even the slightest movement of my head causes them to swing. You might think that it's wearing heels or having inconvenient nails is the constant reminder of my new womanhood. In truth, it's the little tug of gravity on my earlobes at the smallest movement.

False eyelashes are another little treat. Mine are long and have little silver sparkles in them. It's another little reminder of how feminine I need to be to escape the UK.

One day Maxine wanted me dressed to the max. Black stockings, suspender, lacy bra and panties set. A pink satin blouse that is slightly see-through, so my bra definitely shows. Skirt is a business grey pinstripe and is shorter than anything I have worn before. Stiletto heel shoes with double thin strap detail on the front, ankle strap with buckle fastening and pointed toes. We took a taxi across town towards the zoo and pulled up outside one the big Victorian houses that sit back from the road.

The door was opened by a tall, slender lady who I suppose was ages with Maxine. I was ushered into a room which was clearly a sewing room. "Welcome to Orchard House Designs" she said and offered us seats. She pulled a vintage bell pull. Lots of old houses in Edinburgh have the fittings that would have rang for servants, but I have never heard of any actually working. Even more surprising when a young lady in a black dress arrived and left with an order for afternoon tea.

Maxine and the lady (I think she was called Jane or Jade, but she never spoke to me) started discussing a corset for me as though I was not in the room. Under bust, because her breasts are a work in progress. Bones with steel would be essential, as would a back brace to ensure a proper posture. A side fan lacing seemed to be the way to go because a back lacing would interfere with the brace plate. And the style would be similar to an open bottom girdle, fitting from under the breasts to below the bottom of my bum.

Jane has a "modern twist on strict corsetry". The core material is Kevlar, because it does not stretch or tear. The inner lining is sweat-wicking bamboo and the outer is satin. The bones are 1/4 inch steel covered in plastic. The back brace is 3/4 inch to prevent slouching.

Apparently, it is expensive to make a proper side-lacing system and it's easy for the wearer to adjust. To remove both problems this corset would be tightened using bolt fittings set one inch apart. Each bolt would have a neat Allen key head and could be quickly tightened using a power screwdriver. Jane said she had commissioned these for a past client and had ordered far more than she had needed. A corset is now on order!

July 20

We have heard from April and her partner Ken. They want to meet. I was strongly against it. If they know that I am David Simpson of K9 then why wouldn't they tell the police. But Maxine is pretty cool about it. She says that many people who support On the Lam want to know that they are not helping terrorist or child molesters. And they want to be sure that I look enough like April not to be arrested within minutes. We have arranged to meet them in the Voodoo Rooms midweek when it won't be crowded.

My breasts are no longer like pucks. They look and feel like a natural "C" cup. Maxine thinks I need my nipples pierced and I have no say in the matter. I have half inch silver rings which are cute.

July 24 - Voodoo Rooms

I have gone for smoky eyes and a dark red lipstick which I have glossed to the max. Dress is a little black number with a fairly short skirt and my stiletto heels. We agreed to meet at 5pm, but we got there a bit early so we wondered around Harvey Nicks and I blitzed myself in Poison. "Sillage" means the trail of perfume a woman leaves behind her. You could follow mine for half a mile!

About ten past five a couple walk in. It's definitely April, but she looks a lot different to her passport photo. Her hair is the same, but her lips have been blown up to the max. She is in an electric blue halter next dress with a split that runs from the neck to her waist. On me it would be daring, but April's oversized breasts are almost falling out of it. She's wearing killer heels to match, and walks with a natural grace. I am envious because the real April is an absolute knockout.

Ken is a good looking chap in a black suit with a pristine white shirt. They join us and Maxine leads the chit-chat. Actually it's my corset, which I wasn't wearing, that brought the conversation around. Maxine said that using the toilet would be a problem. Ken said I should be put in diapers and PVC pants, just like April. April lifted her skirt to prove she was in blue PVC pants and an adult diaper.

"They are sooo convenient. I don't need to interrupt Ken and I don't worry about changing because Ken takes care of that. And we have made it into a business. We earn loads from our website because lots of kinks like a girl locked in diapers". April spoke like this was her divine calling and I wrote down the details.

The trouble came when we started discussing the plan to get me out of the country and across to Estonia. Flying, even internal Europe flights, was too risky. The automated passport control cameras would not match me to Aprils passport and facial recognition would end up catching me. The best plan was a road trip and to use the ferry to France. To keep traffic flowing, the border control guys just do an eyeball check, and they won't be looking for April.

A road trip would be safest in a motorhome. There won't be any hotel staff or baggage complexities. Ken had a motorhome. And Ken wanted to drive it, noting that way he could keep hold of April's passport.

But April could not post much without Ken. She certainly did not feel safe doing fan meet-up without him, and her online porn business needed constant new material. The answer is for me and Ken to post for her. She could edit in a face close-up if needed. If we did two posts a day for seven days from Edinburgh to Tallinn, then she could spread out the posting and save some for Ken's return trip.