Another change from corporate in my morning’s email. Ever since we were pressured into a takeover a year ago, it has been a never ending stream of changes. The company has always been profitable, a niche market we had capitalized on before any competition came along. In a way we had been ripe for a takeover for several months before Vassar Secretarial Services came along and tried to do just that. They had a similar name since they patterned their company after us. They never could break into our market, our customers quite happy with our services and prices. Wellesley Secretarial Services is the name we operated under, one that we had built up over the five years we have been in operation.
So they planned and tried to execute a takeover of our company. The founders of our company had to get a loan to start the company, so our competition bought the company that made the loan to our founders. Thus, they now had control of the purse strings. It took them a few months to make the squeeze on us, a lot of new requirements to keep the loan in force, new rules involving how the payments were to be handled, lots of reports that had to be furnished to insure that we were stable and profitable. In other words making, it almost impossible to keep functioning with all the new requirements.
The owners tried to secure new financing with another company, but our nemesis had already spread rumors of our financial instability, so no one would touch us. The present employees were involved quite a bit since the original owners had given the employees some interest in the company. If we left, we would lose all of that. Each year, we would get a bonus depending on the profitably and our interest in the company. Last year, mine alone had almost exceeded my salary, a most appreciated occurrence.
We now wished that all of those bonuses had been used on paying off the loan, a better choice in hindsight. The owners were stuck, the loan they now had, the only one they could get. Vassar insisted on one of their own managers to be appointed to oversee the business, a fact that our present owners had to accept when they threatened to not renew the loan. It was not clear, at the time, what their motive was for wanting one of their own as a manager.
The new executive from Vassar issued a lot of changes, minor in a way, but mostly aimed at the founding staff of the company. Especially the ones that had interest in the company. After a week, the reason becoming evident to all of us, the original employees had a meeting off the companies’ premises to discuss the information. We all made a pact to accept whatever was demanded of us in the short term, for if we didn’t, all that money would be lost to us forever. If they succeeded in making us quit, we would lose the interest in the company, thus giving them more income to misappropriate into their pockets.
The manager’s salary alone, obviously one of those ways to siphon off money. There were several new loan charges leveled that year, all for the same purpose. Our customers stayed with us, the look-a-like company, Vassar, failing miserably. Their only saving factor was they owned the loan company, thus us.
The most recent change involved a revision to the dress code. Except for me, the entire staff of our company was female. The company hired out our services as secretaries, not just a run of the mill secretary, but one highly trained and skilled in their duties. Most of us type at over eighty words a minute, mistake free. We handled any software program with ease, Word, Office and many others no problem. Shorthand or dictation of any kind also not a concern for us.
The reputation of the company was exceptional, word of mouth getting us most of our jobs. If we ever did any work for them, we were assured of repeat business later. Our rates were reasonable, not like some of the temporary services, so most of the time we were booked solid.
I presume this new manager had figured out how to frustrate some of the original staff, all in the name of appearance of its employees. The new changes required heels of at least four inches, appropriately matched to the clothing for the day. Stockings were required, which also meant garter belts, or girdles. Pantyhose were forbidden no matter what other undergarments that were worn. No reason given other it will improve our appearance, thus our desirability. There was a lot of talk that night after work, it was Thursday, the change taking effect next Monday.
Then Paula, one of my friends mentioned the wording in the change to the dress code. ALL employees will be affected, no exceptions allowed. Since I was the only male in the company, it would affect me too. Their appointed manager was female, so I would be the one most affected by the change. In previous discussions with the new manager, I had been a spokesperson for the employees, so I imagined that was another reason for this particular change to the dress code. Maybe force me out and then some of the others might cave in too.
We all decided to wear heels Monday, I would go shopping for mine tonight. Paula assured me she would help find me the prefect pair, to match my slacks and meet the requirements of the dress code. We went to the nearby mall and had a ball. One shoe store after another, asking the clerk for a four inch heel in black in a size 11 wide. The third one we hit, the young female that greeted us said no problem have a seat and I will get the heels. Paula and I looked at each other than burst out in a fit of giggling.
Patty, the sales clerk brought several boxes, sat right down in front of me and started removing my shoe and sock. She slid a footie on my foot and then the heel right after. Then she removed the other shoe and sock and did the same to that foot. She suggested that I slide my feet more underneath my body and then try to stand. They would take a little getting used to, but the amount of money I would lose out on if I didn’t conform, would feel far worse. I staggered around the store some until I was able to keep standing and moving at the same time.
It ended up me buying two pair, the black pumps I had on now, and the ivory sandals I had tried on earlier. It would require some more practice, that is for sure, but since most of my day is spent at a desk it wouldn’t be that bad. I was shocked when I paid for the shoes, both pairs of shoes about seventy dollars each. Paula told me that was not bad, some of hers ran more than hundred dollars a pair. Of course, I had to have stockings, then a garter belt to hold the stockings up.
I asked about knee highs, something my Mother always wore with her slacks, but was reminded that the dress code specified stockings. Besides, they never stayed up like they should according to her. When I got home, I put them on again after getting the stockings up my legs and attached to the garter belt. I practiced most of the evening walking around my apartment.
I let caution to the wind and wore the heels and stockings to work. Being Friday, I was a day early in compliance, thinking I would beat the deadline, and get in some much needed additional practice in them. By noon, I was in pain, wearing heels of that heel height, a disaster for the foot without lots of prior practice. Somehow I made it through the day. Paula walked out to my car with me after work. With a smile on her face, she asked I if wanted to go out to dinner with the girls. I groaned a little, but declined, home and out of these heels with a long soaking bath is all I wanted to do.
Monday, back to work, I had dressed in the heels all weekend except when I went shopping for groceries, so my feet were a little better, at least somewhat accustomed to the heel height. Everything was fine until shortly before lunch. I was called into the manager’s office and told starting tomorrow, I had an out of office placement for the next two weeks. It is one of our better older customers, I thanked her for the placement, but there was more to tell me.
“You are expected to do the placement adhering to the new dress code, heels of four inches or more. I can’t have a male prancing around in heels ruining our reputation, so you will have to dress as a female for the entire period of the job. They specifically asked for you, so I can’t send someone else, as of tomorrow, you are Roni, your female equivalent. Is that a problem for you?”
I knew that this was crunch time; if I refused, she could dismiss me with grounds for failing to follow orders. Yeah, it was borderline, but any reason is usually good enough by the time lawyers get involved. I reluctantly agreed to the placement, wondering how I was going to handle this. When I got back to my desk, I punched out for lunch, trying to figure what I might be able to do to get through the next two weeks. A few minutes later, I was joined by Paula, as she led me to her car. A short trip of fifteen minutes and she pulled up into a salon parking lot. The place was fancy, much larger than any beauty salon I had seen before.
I was literally dragged inside, Paula asking to talk with one of their stylists. Melody joined us a few minutes later asking what she could do for us. Paula explained the position I found myself in and asked if they could make a convincing female out of me later today. Melody never hesitated, quickly pulling up their appointments on a computer. She then told us she had an opening at five, I would be finished around midnight. That is with their Turnabout Gurl Special. Other specials are also available but this one will match your requirements the best.
My mouth was open, all of this unexpected, the fact they could do it, the most surprising. Paula committed me to the appointment, and we left the salon. We talked briefly about the appointment on the way back to the office; Paula could see no other way to comply and stay employed. All of the girls wanted me to do as they asked, not wanting to face the new management alone. They were afraid if I quit, or got let go, they would be easy pickings. I had the largest share of ownership, a past spokesperson and also the senior employee, working here longer than any of the others.
All afternoon I thought of my transformation, not even sure I could act like a female even if I looked like one. I dragged myself out of the office a few minutes before five, making the short trip to the salon. Melody was waiting for me, quickly leading me to a treatment room at the back of the salon. My clothes were removed and my body covered in a cream. I was standing naked in the room covered in a white cream. It didn’t feel different than a lotion to keep your skin soft. I felt funny, standing naked in the room, luckily my male organ kept his profile low, not reacting to the cream at all. I was wiped clean with towels, all of my body hair leaving with the cream.
Then in the ensuing seven hours my masculinity was done away with. I left the salon a little after eleven-thirty, wearing a dress, panties and a bra. The bra was not just a piece of clothing, it was supporting my new breasts. There were other changes, the panties now fitting snug against my groin, my male organ had been glued back between my legs leaving a smooth front now. Eyebrows drastically reduced, pierced earrings now in place and lessons in makeup had been supplied so that I could do it myself.
Perhaps the biggest change other than my breasts was my hair. Extensions were added, now my hair length was at the top of my shoulders. Set in rollers with lots of setting gel, a very curly tussled look was now mine. I was shocked at the changes, but also mesmerized with my new image.
Of course, I needed the appropriate clothes, in this case, all skirt suits with pastel blouses. The colors were so feminine, peaches, pinks, greens and purples. I will have to agree that they looked good on me, the total image now feminine, maybe a little too feminine but what I will have to live with.
Working as a female was still a question mark with me, I now looked the part, but could I act the part in person. I made it home and quickly changed for bed. In minutes I was asleep, way too much stress for the day. The next morning I woke earlier than usual, all of the new clothes, hair and makeup would require more time to make myself presentable. I managed a passable presentation and headed off to my placement.
It was an insurance agent’s office, one of the bigger ones in town, always busy with people coming and going all the time. Marjorie the office manager was already there, giving me a quizzical look as I entered the office. In my best female voice, I told her I was Roni here for my placement. Her hand went to cover her mouth and I was dragged into a back office. She wanted the whole story, every detail and nuance. It was over thirty minutes later when I finished, suggesting to her that maybe I should do some work, since that is was what I was here for. She showed me to another desk, this one piled with file folders and letters to be answered or sent out. I sat in the chair in as lady like manner as possible and started on my work. Marjorie stopped by often, asking a few questions here and there, then would go to speak to the agent, in private.
At lunch I was dragged away from my work as Marjorie and Stan her boss was leading the way. We went to a little restaurant a few blocks from their office, ordered salads and iced tea. I was nervous, in the office I was not in front of everyone like I am here, but my fears were apparently unfounded as nothing happened. Stan had a couple of ideas, he had a lot of friends that were often investing in other businesses, he wanted to make a few inquiries then maybe get back with me. I told him I was here for the two weeks unless they didn’t need me. He smiled then left early, wanting to make a few phone calls about the business, mine not his. Marjorie and I finished and then walked back, she was astounded at my appearance and my mannerisms. If I hadn’t revealed myself she would have never known.
I dug back into my work, Paula had called during the day asking if I would have dinner with her. Of course I accepted, being alone in my apartment not the most looked forward thing tonight. I finished then drove to the restaurant that we had agreed to meet at. I was in the lobby when she walked by me asking the hostess if I had showed up yet. I tapped her shoulder and she turned around and screamed.
“Gawd, Roni you are beautiful.” This was stated as she was embracing me in a huge hug. Then a million questions came from her mouth, faster than I could answer them. The hostess was able to seat us after the commotion had died down some, we ordered our meals and then I told her everything that had happened today. I made no mention about Stan seeing what he could do to help us. I was hopeful, but that is a pipe dream that most likely will not happen.
After we had worn out our welcome we headed home, Paula to another day at her work and me to another day at my placement. I did manage to make myself presentable again the following morning, then drove to their office. Marjorie handed me this huge file and told me to digest it all and then right a pertinent report on the contents. I pointed to all of the other things that I hadn’t finished yesterday, she grabbed them and placed them in a drawer, then put my hand on the thick file and told me to get to work. A few pages into the file I realized the file dealt with Wellesley Secretarial. It was facts and figures from the initial startup to the present day.
By lunch I had read everything and was starting to assemble a pertinent report. Marjorie wanted me to go to lunch with her, I waved off, telling her that I needed to watch my figure. She let it go, she knew I wanted to finish the report before the end of the day. At fifteen minutes till five I printed the report and gave it to Marjorie. She immediately took it to Stan for his perusal. I spent a few extra minutes doing some of the work in the drawer, feeling a little better that I hadn’t wasted the entire day.
Tonight it was straight home, I needed to think things through, everything changing around me, some of the changes affecting me greatly. After two days the clothes were a non-issue, I looked at them as my clothes, not just clothes I wore for work. The heels were still requiring me to concentrate, although each day walking in them was getting better. I was getting used to the makeup, the only problem still frustrating me was my hair. I decided to handle it the way a lot of women did, making an appointment to have it done for me twice a week. The charge was not that much and I quickly learned to enjoy the pampering each Monday and Thursday.
On the last day of my placement, around ten A.M. a number of gentleman entered the office. They went straight to Stan’s office and closed the door behind them. It was an hour later when Stan came out and got Marjorie and me, leading us to chairs in front of his desk. I looked around, not sure what to make of this. I was greeted with smiles, then I noticed several copies of the report I complied in their hands. My heart skipped a beat, and I took in way more air than I could handle starting a coughing fit. I was handed a glass of water by Marjorie, that handling my problem temporarily.
Stan started it off. We have talked and read your excellent report. Now to finish the deal we need both of your participation. Marjorie will handle the financial end, essentially you will be a CFO for the company. I have known you for years and have complete faith in your decisions and actions.
Now for Roni, we need someone to run the company, not associated with the previous owner or the ones that have managed to force a takeover. Your report proves that you are that individual. All things pertinent were covered with the proper emphasis on each topic. That shows that you understand the company and its proper operation. If both of you agree, we are ready to make our move, both companies will be in our hands within an hour. I looked at Marjorie, she smiled and told Stan she accepts the position, then stares back at me. I don’t know what to say, this is so unexpected and way out there. Marjorie leans close whispers in my ear asking if I love my job, I say yes and everyone smiles and several phones are being used to make calls. I look at her, mouthing you tricked me. She sticks her tongue out at me and giggled.
As I sat there as these gentleman did their work I realized how much I wanted this, not necessarily me as the CEO, but our company back in the hands of its employees. With me in charge it will stay that way. I also became aware that it wasn’t just the original company but the one that tried to force us to do as they wanted, since the two had been combined in the deal. They apparently had some outstanding loans from way back, Stan and his fellow partners doing the same thing to them that they had done to us. Then called in the loans, Vassar not able to pay off the loans now a subsidiary of Stan’s company and one that I will be the CEO of starting tomorrow.
After the last two weeks I did note one area that will not be changed, the dress code stays as it is, no changes at all to such a fine document. Well I might be persuaded to require higher heels, at least for all executives.
All went well, I took over the combined companies at nine A.M the following morning. Memos out to all employees about the acquisition and how things will be run. Nothing to be drastically changed, but a return to our basic philosophy that proved to be such a success to our reputation and our success. I did get a little satisfaction when I sent their manager off to a new assignment, one that she refused ceasing her employment with us.
Things continued to improve, all prior debts were repaid in less than a year. Now the company is mainly employee owned, with Stan and his group still having a forty-five percent interest in the company. An arrangement that everyone is quite happy about.
On another front Marjorie and I still see each other often away from the business, usually every evening when we get ready for bed. At home she is the boss, while I handle the company during the day. Tonight I have my hands full, a list of things I must see to before we can slip into dreamland. As our lips touched, this is going to be so much fun. Maybe I can can catch a nap during lunch tomorrow, there definitely will not be much sleeping tonight. So much work for a secretary these days, not all of it being able to be done during normal business hours.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker