I had only been at this job for three months, I handled emails from customers seeking a specific product, not found in our catalog. It was my job to point out similar items that might be to their liking. Then research the item they requested finding out if it might fit our product mix. I had to find out who made the product, who was selling it, and the prices it was selling for. This information was then forwarded to my boss for consideration. I added to the return email that our company is considering adding the product, so be sure and get back with us in the near future.
I doubted that I accomplished much, my suggestions of similar items probably ignored by the customer. From my research most of the products that I looked up would not be viable as a product for us, their potential sales not enough to be worth adding the item to our warehouse. It is a simple job, not difficult, my typing skills though coming in very handy.
I learned typing in high school, my typing teacher constantly harping on me, forcing me to learn to type properly. As a result of her intervention my speed of eighty words a minute makes this job a breeze. I owe my typing teacher a debt of gratitude, a skill I didn’t want, that I use every day now.
The company has been making quite a few changes lately, leaving me a little worried for my continued employment. The lack of a strong economy and our diminishing sales had forced them to take the initiative and make a lot of drastic changes. I managed to survive the reduction of the work force, how that happened escapes me. Now they were focusing on changes to the workplace to make it a more enjoyable place to work, according to them.
They hoped that would increase productiveness and persuade well trained employees to stay with the company, saving them more money in the long run. Along with trying to make the employees more comfortable, they had increased the workload, asking each employee to accomplish quite a bit more in their job every day.
Of the fifteen hundred employees, over fourteen hundred are female. Except for a couple of males in the office, one of which is me, the other males all worked in the warehouse, shipping out the orders. Then one of our executives noticed that a lot of companies were splitting up their workers, forming smaller companies with groups of them then sub-contracting their services to the main company. This saved on benefits and gave the company another way of hiding some of the profits, something that was shrinking as the days went by.
So last week all of the male and female shipping employees were separated from the company forming a new entity that sub-contracted the shipping work. That left me and one other male working for the main business, along with thirteen hundred females. All of our executives were female, the one only other male a PA to the CEO of the company. The separation seemed to work out fine, things running smooth right from the start with no interruption.
I noticed a few days later that emails from our bosses tended to be more female oriented, conveniently forgetting the two males among the employees. Bathrooms on our floor of the office were being converted to ladies bathrooms, since the bulk of the employees were female now. In fact, I think they forgot completely about the two lowly males working for them. I know I had to use the one handicap restroom on the main floor, a twenty minute trek to get to it. There is nobody to complain to, my supervisors apparently oblivious to the one male working on the third floor.
Then a new CEO was hired in, I imagine to try and turn the company around. Rumors still had us in declining sales, with not much prospect of the situation getting better. Morale was at an all-time low, the new executive having her hands full from the start. She split up all of the employees into work groups, which held meetings daily to discuss work, areas to focus on and new ideas to get things back to normal.
The idea is a widely used concept in the orient, one that has done wonders for their companies. I was in a group with thirty females, all office workers on my floor. I attended the meetings, but tried to stay inconspicuous. Some of the ladies had some good ideas, they were tried and proved to be quite successful. The ideas were spread to the other work groups and soon there seemed to be a glimmer of hope that things might be turning around some.
My email that morning definitely got my attention. It was headed new dress code. I read with some apprehension that dresses or skirts and blouses were mandated for all employees of the company. No slacks, jeans, or pants were allowed anymore. The change in dress code is to make the office more professional, and establish some working standards that are sorely needed. To ease the financial burden that this might place on some of the employees, a local company has agreed to furnish three complete outfits per employee at no charge, in exchange for some advertising in our catalog and merchandise that they could use in their business.
At the bottom of the email is our individual appointment times to be measured and fitted with our outfits. I swallowed hard, mine is tomorrow morning at eight A.M. I tried to get a hold of my immediate supervisor, this can’t be happening to me. It was a few minutes after quitting time when she eventually called me back, telling me to come to her office as I was leaving the building. I finished closing down my computer, gathered my things and headed to her office.
As I entered her office, she gave me a questioning look, asking me where I worked. I told her that I had just phoned her about the dress code, wanting to know if it applied to me. She asked my name, as I was spelling it for her she typed it into her computer. She repeated it as the info came up on her screen, then listed the info on the file. “Loren Davidson, hired 3/15/2016, email specialist, age 27, unmarried, female.”
I caught my breath suddenly at the last word out of her mouth. “Did you say female just now?” She stared at the screen again, then looked my way. “Yes, you are a single female employee of this company. As to the question about the dress code affecting you. Yes it does, failure to follow the dress code can lead to termination if you fail to follow the published guide lines.”
I tried to point out that I am a male employee, not a female, but she reiterated that the personnel file is correct, and I should attend my clothing appointment in the morning as scheduled. “Now I have other matters to attend to, I will see you after lunch, when you return from your fitting. You should be properly attired as to the terms of the new dress code or I will have to send you home without pay.”
I was in a daze as I made my way to my car. “The company thinks that I am a female, how in the hell am I going to get them to see that I am a male.” One look in the rear view mirror confirmed my predicament. The face and head looked slightly female, with my hair in a high ponytail and some wisps of hair on my forehead like I had bangs, it would not be impossible for somebody to presume that I was a female.
I have dressed fairly masculine since I was hired, pants and polo shirts most days. I have no breasts, in fact, my figure is fairly straight up and down no matter which angle you view me from. My beard is light, but in the afternoon you can definitely see a beard shadow, a definite sign that the employee is male.
I tried to put together how I had been classified as a female on my personnel file. A clerical error, is the only explanation I could come up with. Now I had to decide if I am going to attend the appointment in the morning or face the reality of losing my job. This job had been hard enough to find, I imagine finding a replacement would be almost impossible. Being fired would only add to the problems, so I tried to find some reasons to persuade myself to swallow my pride and show up dressed as a female tomorrow at work.
I fretted about my situation most of the evening, then decided to see where I had to go to get my outfits tomorrow. I had printed the email when it arrived in my inbox. Even when I received the email, I had the feeling in my gut that I would not be able to escape this cruel fate. The name of the place is the Turnabout Gurl Salon, a beauty salon and clothing boutique. The address was another bad omen, only two blocks from our corporate headquarters.
Nothing transpired the rest of the evening to stay my execution the next morning. No phone calls wanting me to be somewhere else tomorrow, no last minute pardon from higher up. Somehow I managed to get asleep, but the dreams left me with an extremely upset stomach the next morning. I skipped breakfast, I am sure anything I ate would not stay down long. The email told all employees to only wear some workout clothes, since the clothing furnished would be business appropriate for use after the appointment.
My stomach doing flip flops as I got up out of bed. I finally ended up leaving last night’s meal in my bathroom, my nerves were on edge and I couldn’t relax. I finally had to leave for the salon, to be able to keep the appointment. I had thought about not going, but my bosses words kept playing through my mind as I left my home. I needed the job too much, too chicken to stand up to them, then have to find another job. I guess the main problem now is how to correct my gender status on my personnel file.
I parked and slowly made my way to the door. After swallowing hard I let out a big sigh and entered the salon. “I am Loren Davidson and I have an appointment this morning made by my employer.” She checked her computer, then found my name and told me someone will be right up to get me. A few minutes later Beth appeared and took my hand to lead me to the back. She had given me a quick head to toe look as she approached me, so I am sure she realizes that I am a male.
In an office in the back of the salon I am shown to a chair in front of an absolutely gorgeous woman. She is talking on the phone to someone, although she stands to shake my hand. I wasn’t trying to listen to her conversation, but when my name got brought up, my ears also perked up. “Yes I am sure, Loren is a male and you have him listed as a female. I know things are chaotic over there, but since when do your executives fail to notice the difference between a male and a female. Surely your eyesight is not that bad.” She listens to the response, then tells them she will handle the problem, but there better not be any fall out because of this. She promptly hangs up, then comes around and hugs me like my Mom used to do. She grabs my hand and leads me to a sofa against the far wall. After I set down, she sits right next to me.
“Well Loren it seems we need to have a talk and try and resolve this little problem. First off I need to know a lot about you, when you started with the company and what you want to do with your life. I need the truth, so that I can properly advise you in what your options are. There is a lot more to this than what appears on the surface, especially concerning you. So we have all morning, so let’s get talking.”
I stared at her, she seems so friendly, but wanting to hear my story seems a little much. I hesitate, trying to think of what to do. She grabs my hand, squeezes it some, and then holds it in her lap. I break down and tell her all about me, how I got the job, and what I do for the company. She never interrupts, but listens carefully to everything I say. I do find out that her name is Dallas, the COO of the Turnabout Gurl Salon. She is in town checking on other businesses for the owner of the salons. Forty minutes later I am talked out, and visibly relax into the sofa. I didn’t realize how tense I was as I gave her my history.
She gets up, goes to her computer, and starts typing. As she is waiting for a response, Beth gets us something to drink, and then asks if she can get some measurements while we wait. I hoped that would not be necessary, that the problem could be straightened out, but eventually let out a big sigh, telling her to go ahead. I am stood up, and Beth measures me in all the necessary spots, writing the figures on a pad. Dallas’s computer pings and she reads the response to her question. Beth is told to go ahead and get some things picked out, and also arrange for a full temporary transformation for me. Beth leaves and Dallas comes to sit next to me again.
“Let me explain what has happened and my recommendation to handle the problem that it has caused. When your male workers were separated into a separate company, the parent company applied and received outside funding for a female owned and run business. That means that all employees of your company are supposed to be female. Your records and one other individual were shown as female, even though both of you are of the male gender. We will presume someone in personnel did the changing of the records, but of course no one is admitting guilt or why it was done.”
“Since the funding stated that all employees are female, you and this other individual either have to appear as female in the workplace or you have to be let go. They have already accepted and used part of the money, so they have no recourse now. I have already handled the other male employee, and I suggest the same for you. He has agreed to present as a female for the future, in exchange for better benefits and a salaried position. All of his transformation costs and clothing will be paid by me, in exchange I get that same sum of money in advertising and merchandise thru your companies catalog. I am alright with that arrangement, so from my standpoint we have no problem.”
“I take it that you have not spent any time as a female in your life, so I suggest that we do a temporary transformation for you, along with a wardrobe sufficient for a week or two. Spend the time exploring whether you can live with this, then come back and we will talk some more about the future. Before you turn this down, you will be promoted to your boss’s job, and be paid a salary instead of an hourly rate. The salary is equal to three times you annual earnings, so take some time to think it over. If I may suggest that you join Beth in our dining room, where we will order you some early lunch. When and if you decide let her know and we can either start or I can notify the company of your refusal to participate. I think you will find the experience enlightening and well worth the time and effort.” I get a hug from Dallas as Beth reaches out her hand to lead me away.
Beth then led me to another room, much larger with a refrigerator, sinks and a microwave. Among a group of tables scattered around the room, a table in the corner already has some food on it and this is where she took me. There was a delicious looking salad with several different dressings, fruit slices with another sweeter type of sauce and then some cookies, they didn’t look low in calories, but the way I drool over cookies I soon tried one of them. I closed my eyes, I couldn’t believe how good they tasted. I was letting out a low moan, Beth giggling at my actions. I was good, taking some salad, then some fruit, then at least one of each type of cookie. With my appetite somewhat sated I asked her some questions.
“I presume you can handle the transformation, but I know nothing about being a female, I don’t even pay much attention to them, how am I to learn to act and talk like one.” Beth smiled, that is something we can also handle. “We offer classes for all our customers to teach them anything they are not comfortable with. The classes are offered after work, so they will not interfere with your job. Most of the instruction is one to one, so you learn fast, and we then reinforce the instruction so that you get in the habit of acting female at all times.”
I took in a large breath, trying to relax some. “I will give it a try, I am not really sure about this and am extremely nervous about this decision.” I received a hug, and then am hustled off to a treatment room to start the process. I am sure Beth could feel my body shaking as she led me to the private room to start my transformation. When we got there I did start crying, all of this too much, too soon, and too outside anything I am even remotely used to. I am hugged and held in her embrace until I calm down a little. I seldom cry, the death of my father the only other time I have shed tears in my life.
She helps me undress, then helps me up onto a table. Before I know what is happening she is spreading a cream over my front side, not missing any areas. Even my male appendage is covered, although the cream had no effect on him. I am sure he is shrunk in fear of what may happen to him. After the cream has been on for twenty minutes, she wipes it off with a damp cloth, removing all of my body hair with it. “If you use the cream again your hair will not regrow after that. A lot of our customers like that aspect of its use, even if they do not dress feminine all the time.”
I am turned over, my back side handled in the same manner. After the last of my body hair is wiped from my body I am again turned over and she approaches my face. “Do you want your beard area treated also, or do you want to shave close every day to perpetuate your change to the fairer sex?”
I didn’t have to think long on that question, I absolutely hated shaving every day. “Please remove every last hair, I so despise shaving I will forever be in your debt if you can arrange that feat.” The cream is applied all over my face, then also my eyebrows. It is left on much longer, almost an hour transpired before she removed the cream and my facial hair.
During that time she worked on my nails, shaping them, removing any cuticles and then adding extensions. She did ask if I could handle the length when I typed. “I think so, it may take me a day or two to adjust but I think I can manage that task.” When she quit applying coats of nail polish my elegant nails had a shiny pink gloss to them and looked so feminine. My fingers were treated under a UV light between each coat of polish, Beth telling me that made the polish more secure, soaking in acetone the only way to remove the color now.
She obtained my choice of diet drinks, then handed me a robe to wear for a while. My hair is the target next, her shampooing and conditioning the first step in its treatment. After that is handled, she put a towel wrapped around my head and showed me some pictures of me with different hairstyles and colors of hair. I pointed to one that after thinking about it for a minute maybe was the wrong choice. It was so feminine, the color a very light blonde, with tons of ringlet curls. I pointed to it because it looked so attractive, but then after a few minutes thought I realized I would be the one inside of those curls. I realized it was too late to change my mind, as she was adding a foul smelling mixture to my hair strands.
After the hair color is rinsed thirty minutes later, she puts a multitude of curlers in my hair, I can feel each curler as she rolls up the hair. A dryer is positioned above me, and turned on. I am allowed to sit there while my hair is drying, a respite for a while. I can see my image from a mirror across the room, very little masculinity apparent in the image. When the hair is dry, the dryer is removed and she helps me slip off the robe.
Back on the table, flat on my back, curlers still in my hair, two wobbling masses are placed on my chest and positioned for the best effect. I am genuinely surprised at the weight, never aware of what a female carries around with her. As Beth is marking the placement they wiggle, and jiggle, almost never staying still. In an almost whisper, “Are they going to be like that on my body, can’t I remove them when I am at home, at least?”
Beth is giggling away, “A bra helps considerably, a must with larger cup sizes like these. You do eventually get used to the movement of them, I suggest a bra 24/7 until you become accustomed to them. I will be gluing them on, so you will not be able to remove them when you want. After you get a feel for what it is like to be a female, removing them for a while might be an option for you.”
“Since you are a female in the company’s eyes, it will be necessary to live like one for the near future. I think you might like the life, from what you have told us, you fit more in with the female sex than as a male. Give it a couple of weeks before you decide if this is the life for you, and then we can go from there. The money and promotion offered to you should not be turned down until you see what it is like to be female.”
My penis is tucked away behind a false vagina, a necessity according to Beth if the authorities check the company for deceit in applying for the funds. Since some records were altered by their personnel department, a real possibility when an audit is performed. The fact that the sex was changed, but nothing else might raise red flags with the governing agency. Beth assured me that only a cursory examination is performed, not an actual strip and show. If the rest of the disguise shows no signs of anything other than a female, they usually stop there. Government agencies can be a stickler when money is involved. A masculine erection a dead giveaway of some possible deceit.
I asked about the other male in the company, Beth just smiled. “There is one employee, works in the executive offices that showed a few signs of masculinity, but after we outfitted her with the new clothes there is no doubt about her gender. However, she will never be as pretty and beautiful as you.” I can’t believe that statement, I had seen the PA several times in the halls in the past few days, he definitely showed very few signs of masculinity, almost pretty even as a male.
Laying there on the table, jiggling mounds on my chest, and now a void between my legs. I wanted to feel down there, to make sure Beth hadn’t managed to remove it somehow. Yeah, a very stupid thought, but looking at my groin, I wondered what she did with it. I guess Beth also mind reads, as she takes my hand and places it on my new female slit. “Slip your finger inside the slit, and probe to the back and down some, you can feel a lump and at the end at very erotic area. That is your new clit, the gateway to female ecstasy.” I was moving my finger as she directed and then I hit the spot, my new clit, suddenly I couldn’t get a breath, my body almost convulsing.
It took me quite a while to recover, that single moment will be etched in my mind for quite a while. All of a sudden this crazy disguise might not be such a bad idea. I closed my eyes letting my mind wander as Beth started working on me again. I heard her giggle a little though when I found my point of ecstasy. The sting in my right ear, interrupted my thoughts, but before I could figure out what is going on another sting was felt, presumably I now can wear two earrings in my ear. Then to my astonishment she repeated the process again, but for my other ear. A fact that I am now capable of wearing pierced earrings, a long wanted wish of mine, not.
My hair was removed from the curlers, then brush into a style. It was feminine, but not in excess. I was made to style the hair myself, since I would have to recreate the style every morning. Next came the makeup and the same instruction for doing it myself.
I was taken next door, to get my clothes for the next few weeks, the size of their clothing store taking my breath away. How would any woman be able to make a choice from this kind of selection? Beth coordinated my choices so that from each three items I would have other combinations also that I could wear. Loaded with bags of clothes and the necessary undergarments, in my newly dress code approved style for today I made my way back to the office.
I left my other things in the car, swallowed hard and tried to find the nerve to enter and find my old supervisor. She had been promoted too, I found her in her new office one floor up from where I worked. As I entered her office she acknowledged me, her attitude seeming to have changed. She approved of my new look, then changed the subject to my new job. Due to the cutbacks I would still be doing what I did before, just having the added responsibility of my fellow co-workers added to my job. The one good thing was I now had my own office.
I somehow managed to find my new office, settled in and started on the huge workload that had accumulated while I was changing sex. The longer nails proved to not be a problem, after thirty minutes I was typing without much difficulty. Several of my new responsibilities showed up wanting help on what to do with a problem they had encountered. I spent the next two hours seeing to my new charges, answering questions and giving them guidance in their individual projects. Then back to my work, as I set back down at my desk the pile seemed to have grown, I spent until six that night handling as much of the work as possible, cleaned up and then headed home.
On the way I thought of all that had happened, wondering why I allowed it to be implemented. I never did come to any conclusions, every minute things seemed easier to accept, not as foreign as when they were first done to me. By the time I reached my first destination I had forgot about the breasts on my chest and the long nails on my hands covered with polish. They were there, I could feel them but they no longer caused me any distress. I was female and that is what came with the package.
I didn’t feel like cooking, actually in my case that would be warming up something previously frozen. So I stuck my neck way out and stopped at a neighborhood restaurant to get something to eat. Looking at the menu the steaks looked good, but another look at my clothes, maybe not such a good idea. I settled for a broiled chicken salad, which turned out to be quite good. I did finally make it home, taking all my new clothes in and finding a spot to hang them Beth had insisted they be hung tonight so that any wrinkles would have a chance to fall out before morning.
I sat in front of my computer at home, looking at a blank screen, my mind wandering off somewhere, thinking of the day’s activities. One day and now I was a female, the changes that were made while not being permanent would require me to live the female role for the near future. I did manage to survive the day, maybe this could be done.
I did like the idea of more money, but remembering the price tags when Beth helped me pick out my clothes, a lot of my new found income would end up being spent on clothes and makeup. I gave up looking at the blank screen, turned off the computer and headed to bed. I undressed hanging up my clothes as instructed earlier. I reached into the last bag, pulling the thin lacy nightie out, handling it like it would bite me if I was not careful.
As it slid down over my shoulders and breasts, a million sensations suddenly sprouted wings causing all kinds of feelings to attack my body. I was tempted to take if off quickly, but it had already made such an impact on me that my body resisted the urge with all of its being. I hugged myself, the sheer material and the lace trim sending thousands of feelings to my overworked mind. I finally laid down in bed, and pulled the sheet over me, trying to keep all the good feelings trapped and unable to escape. I guess I drifted off to sleep, the alarm the next morning waking me from a most restful and pleasant night.
I woke severally disoriented, the nightie rubbing against my body brought all of yesterdays activities back into focus. Then we have the problem of me re-creating what the salon did yesterday. It took me much longer to get ready for work but I managed somehow. The trip into work was a non-event, although I did worry about being stopped by a policeman. I can imagine my possible explanation and the laughs it might create. I did make it only a few minutes late. I had several of my new subordinates waiting for some guidance so that was the first thing I handled. Then I started on my workload, which by the size of the pile had grown exponentially overnight.
I had skipped breakfast, something I never did in the past but the fit of my clothes and how they looked on me made the sacrifice worth it. By lunch I had managed to whittle the pile down to just a few tasks, something I was very proud of. One of the company executives came into my office just before lunchtime, closed my office door and sat down in front of my desk. In my old position I didn’t have an office and no chair in front of my desk. I feared the worse immediately, maybe my good fortune had already run out.
Her name was Delia, and she was COO of the company. She seemed all business, very prim and proper and focused on what she was here for. “It has come to my attention, of a few things that has transpired concerning your employment. None of the things that you have had to experience were meant to be, circumstances and a lack of communication causing most of the trouble. What caught my attention was how you have handled the situation. In the past we have had trouble with the department that you have been assigned to. None of the trouble concerning you, but your work associates. Since you have replaced the former head of the department it has suddenly stopped. I and many others never placed the blame where it belonged, thinking it was just the employees that were the source of the trouble.
Well our eyes are now open and I am proud of your achievements since you have taken over. I have followed your employment here, for quite some time. Since the change you have fulfilled one of my fondest wishes. As I was looking over your personnel file and your past achievements I noticed a few discrepancies. On further investigation I discovered even more. I ended making a call to the salon where you were outfitted with your current clothing and the whole ugly scenario came to light. I was curious since my PA is the other male who was changed to the female sex. A lot of mistakes made by previous management has caused the situation we are in now.
Unfortunately I can’t tell you that a change back to the male sex is possible and stay employed with us, but maybe I can make it a little easier to accept and live with. I have another position available for you, it is related to what you have done in the past, just more involved. It is another salaried position but requires quite a lot of contact outside the company. It is as head buyer, where you will analyze data given to you and decide whether we should handle the product. If the decision is yes you will see to its addition to the inventory and its projected inventory level. You will only report to me, as far as executives are concerned and I expect you to look nice and represent the company to the best of your ability. I am sure a twice weekly appointment at the salon will be necessary and the company will handle any and all expenditures for beauty services and wardrobe.
Now do we have a deal or do I need to try and find someone else. I swallowed hard and started a response several times to find that my voice had suddenly left me. I did manage to get out the word yes, and was pulled into a hug as she came around the desk and pulled me from my chair. Oh one last condition and it is a big one, I need you to go to dinner with me at least twice a week, so some evening gowns and dressier dresses are to be a necessity. She leaned over to my face and carefully pulled me closer to her then kissed me on the lips, I lost track of everything at that point, as my mind melted. The kiss went on and on, till she pulled back and suggested that I leave early today and pick out something nice to wear tonight. One more shorter kiss and she returned to her office leaving me standing there mouth open with a huge smile on my face.
I sat back down in my chair, coherent thoughts were impossible at this point. Then like a regular female I opened my purse and withdrew my compact to check my appearance. I laid it down and called the salon to get an appointment so that I would look my best. I closed down my computer and grabbed my purse and headed for the salon. I wonder what style of evening gown to purchase, but knew the experts at the salon would be able to help me. This whole thing of dressing for success was definitely the right way to go. I wonder if it was just an accident that I ended up as a female or if it was planned. Only time will tell, either way I am very thankful.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker