My first interview out of college and I was nervous for several reasons. There had been a lot of changes recently in business, affecting their employees and how they were perceived. The business I was interviewing with was one of those companies supporting the changes, while embracing them within their own company. A lot of the changes were immediately challenged in court, but a court involved resolution was probably years off. If the company was interested in me, those changes would affect me immediately and for as long as I was employed there.
I was with the head of their human resource department for over two hours, every thing about me and my education talked about at one time or the other. My family life, college friends, interests outside of college and many more topics were examined in detail. With regards to my college friends they wanted phone numbers or addresses to check the validity of my statements. I had mentioned my interest in volunteer work, then had to furnish where I had done the volunteering and who my supervisor there was. By the end of the interview I was sweaty and mentally drained. I was told they would get in touch with me the following morning and if I was deemed acceptable I would need to come back in before lunch to fill out my paperwork. Beside being mentally drained I was in a daze, not sure if I would be accepted and not sure if I wanted to work for them as they seemed to be quite demanding and strict.
Like most other college graduates, we were faced with a small number of companies that were hiring, and even less that were thought to be reputable and able to survive in this chaotic world. Of four possible companies to work for I had only received one offer of an interview. The other three let it be known they were not hiring in the foreseeable future. Another indication of a troubled economy. If I left my career choice the prospects of anything resembling employment were nil, most businesses were either laying off people or in a hiring freeze till things turn around if they do, a big if in these troubled times.
Looking back most would have seen the evolution of what we have experienced as impossible. It was several years ago when an election in one of the western states signaled a change in the air. An upstart female running against an incumbent senator started to gain some national attention. He was the typical politician, promise anything to get elected and then deliver nothing. She was a state legislator representing a district that encompassed the state’s biggest city. Her record stood for itself introducing over a hundred and fifty bills during her two year term as a state senator. Very few got passed, but her direct appeal to the state’s voters about her fellow legislators did make all kinds of news. She called them out, for backing their special interest supporters and ignoring what their constituents wanted. There were several other female legislators that joined her in her effort, but the good ole boys were in control and they knew it.
She decided to take it national, getting signatures so she could run for the U.S. senate. Her critics underestimated her, dismissed her as irrational and obviously a female, one that needed to be ignored. When she brought her signed petitions to the Secretary of State to be registered as a candidate there were several raised eyebrows. She only needed fifty thousand signatures to qualify, but she presented petitions with over a hundred and twenty thousand signatures to the Secretary of State. There was no press coverage, at the time, most everybody writing her off as a militant female that will never amount to anything. The press had already covered the submission of the incumbents qualifying petitions for the election yesterday, his seventy thousand signatures thought more than enough to get approval and re-election once the voting was held in November.
When the press caught on to what was happening and questions started being asked the senator, the no comment answer was used quite extensively. In an attempt to disqualify the challenger they challenged her petitions, only to have the lady submit another twenty thousand signatures to the inquiring officials. That was done one day before the time limit expired. The challenging candidate then questioned the senator’s signatures presenting evidence that a lot of the signatures on his petitions were not valid, no such address or no one living at the furnished address.
Her petitions were checked thoroughly, not one signature proved to be invalid, much to the senator’s dismay. His petitions were a different matter, after all the dust had settled he did qualify but only one hundred and fifteen signatures more than he needed. That amounted to almost twenty thousand signatures that proved to be fake. Quite a stain on his claims of truthfulness and honesty.
At the challenger’s campaign quarters there was cheers and celebration, it had worked out just as they planned, they did have enough signature challenges to disqualify him, but they shelved those wanting a campaign against him, part of a larger plan for during the campaign. The press meanwhile were playing this all up, very good for newspaper sales and TV ratings. Almost everyday a new facet of the story was explored front page or as a leading news story for the evening news.
Then the allegations about the senator’s voting record and his relationship with the special interest groups started coming to light. Copies of deposit tickets showing checks from a lot of groups he claimed to know nothing about. His signature on the back of the check proving otherwise. The fact that he even deposited the checks into his account proved that he thought he was above the intellect of his constituents. Then we have tapes of conversations with a lot of people known to be soliciting support for certain legislation showing up, and the resulting vote records when that legislation came before the legislature. The result of the first few polls told everyone that his re-election campaign was in serious trouble. They started running lot of ads, trying to discredit his opponent, all paid for by the special interest groups.
The lady candidate is a daughter of a regent for the largest university in the state. Her mother, the regent, holds several degrees in various subjects from a number of colleges and university’s around the world. The candidates father died in one of the Arab conflicts in the middle east, the conflicts she is adamantly against in any way or form. The daughter’s name is Hillary Walker, and is currently the CEO of a worldwide charity organization that aids needy children all around the world. They tend to focus on children left to their mother after the father leaves when told he is the father. They help with paternity tests, and legal fees for the mother to get some support for herself and her child. Each case is well researched as to its validity and that the facts disclosed are true and provable. They do not take the word of the mother as unimpeachable. There help does not have to be paid back, and a careful followup is performed every three months to make sure the mother and child are still doing okay. Since Hillary has been at the helm, over a million dollars has been raised for that charity.
With regards to her campaign she takes no campaign donations from any groups, including religious groups, only individual donations from her constituents of less than ten dollars.
The bottom line in all of these changes due to political favoritism is that most males are now looked at being basically dishonest, taking favors and money to advance themselves at the cost of everyone else. A lot of companies saw this and started making changes that would even out some of this distortion in life. They started easy, changing dress codes for the male, making him appear less masculine, which stopped some of this male only mentality. The males that did not conform left the companies employment, making vacancies for more female employees or males that were essentially neutered gender wise. Since a lot of the corruption left with the good ole boys the companies flourished making record profits and making huge strides in gaining market share. The males that fled, found finding any kind of employment sparse, most of them still unemployed even to this day.
The companies that did not make the changes found themselves losing business at an alarming rate. So they either had to join the ranks of the others embracing the new changes or end up going bankrupt.
The company I had just interviewed with was one of the leaders in adopting these changes. As I was walking to the personnel department that morning I saw very few males that were dressed masculine. No skirts per say, but hair in a feminine cut, blouses instead of shirts and basic makeup like lipstick and mascara. Otherwise they seemed happy in their role, doing their jobs with a smile on their face.
I was called in the next morning, getting dressed quickly and was at their offices before nine o’clock. I had to sign a pile of papers, acknowledging the rules I will have to adhere to. Just like I thought, there was no one employed who fit the normal male image or personality. After my interview that morning welcoming me to the company I was given a list of things I would have to have done to be able to work here. When I took a minute to look at the list, I let out a huge sigh, my days as a normal looking male were over with, the feminine haircut, use of makeup and their no pants rule for all newly hired employees would leave me severally lacking in anything masculine. Then there was the proviso that my male organ had to be tucked away, unavailable for use and not to be seen at any time. In the case of new hires, like me, I was to wear some type of breast forms for the first three months, that to make me aware of my new status here. They even furnished an address of where these changes could be obtained, if I had them done there, they would handle the cost of the procedures.
I was shown where I would be working at, so that after tomorrow all I had to do was show up to work, my first day’s tasks laying on my desk. My boss did tell me she would see me after I showed up for work, making sure that I was adhering to the rules of my employment explicitly. Before I left the cubicle I did notice the name plate on my desk, Miss Lee Hanover. Quite a change from Lester Hanover.
The job I had been given is a glorified secretary, the small cubicles just so that the male secretaries can’t talk with each other. My boss’s office at the head of the row of cubicles. On her desk is a monitor where she can see what each one of her secretaries is doing at any time of the day. All kinds of hoops to jump through for a minimum wage job, that will lead nowhere in the following years. I was reminded the job was seven days a week, only on major holidays was the company closed.
I did call the salon after I left the companies headquarters wanting to get these changes over and done with. I was already dreading them, but either I complied or I would have no job. I arranged an appointment early the next morning, the one taking my information telling me it would take up to eight hours to accomplish the changes depending on the procedure that I chose to accomplish those changes.
I picked up some take out to eat, but did not buy as much as I usually consumed. All of this having a profound effect on me. I went to bed early, but ended up laying there for quite some time before I managed to get to sleep. The next morning I dragged myself out of bed and slipped on some sweats, what the salon suggested I wear for my appointment. With a sense of dread I made my way to the salon, and was greeted warmly and hustled off to a room near the back of the salon. On a table was all of my information, including some info from the company. Most of it was permission slips that I needed to sign agreeing to the procedures. Each was one explained to me, then the options available to achieve those changes. I did ask a few questions, but it seemed the only way for me to stay employed was to embrace the changes wholeheartedly.
I swallowed hard and took the more long lasting options, hoping after this all settled I could expect to be still employed with them over the following years. Since I had only one offer of an interview after college, the job prospects if I lost this job were non existent.
They started right away, a cream to remove all of my body hair, I had chosen the permanent option, never enjoying having any hair on my body. Then my feet were placed in stirrups extended from the end of the table and junior glued to my groin, then a silicone vagina was glued over that to give the appearance of a female’s sex. I shed a tear as that was being completed, I never did masturbate much, but now that was a mute point. Once the tech was done down there, I had slit between two puffy lips, my male genitals now gone. I closed my eyes trying to cope with what had been done.
My eyes popped open quickly when two cups were glued to my chest right above my nipples. From the size of the cups I will be well endowed. When I signed the permission slips I had no idea about what a C cup looked like, much less how they were going to be formed. Since it could be reversed later on down the road, I thought it a better option then wearing breast forms. Maybe that was not a wise decision, now that I had seen the size of my soon to be breasts. Well they don’t have to fill the cups to overflowing so I might be alright. Hoses were hooked to the cups and a pump somewhere started pulling extra flesh into the cups, the start of my soon to be breasts.
While the pump was doing its thing my nails were worked on, soaked, cuticle removed, extensions added and then polish, a pale pink color. All males that were employed anywhere had to wear pink polish on their fingernails, another one of the rules of the new society. Then my hair was washed and conditioned, then cut into a feminine style. As she finished the cut she spread a paste over my hair roots first, then through the rest of my shoulder length hair. The paste was a pale pink, now my hair would also be that color. The new society making sure that any male employed would be distinguishable from his female superiors.
The hair was placed in curlers, then a dryer was slid over my head, the pump still encouraging my breasts to grow. I looked down at my nails again, not to be taken for granted anymore a chipped nail or poor polish job and I could be sent home without pay for the day. If I was to wear open toed heels my toenails had to be similarly polished at all times.
So many rules, all devised to make sure the male knows his place in society. There have been rumors about how things used to be, but when told of them they seemed improbable. Imagine a male being able to ask a female to marry him, what a laugh.
It indeed take them most of the day to complete my transition. Finally I was inspected, the result of each procedure to satisfy a rule photographed, a copy of which to be place in my personnel file. My nails were measured for length, having to meet the .75 of an inch past my fingertips. Of course, a picture of my breasts, and my new vagina to prove that those requirements had been met. Then I received a standard secretarial uniform, pencil skirt whose hem was five inches above the top of my knee. Then we have the blouse, white lace with a plunging neckline showing at least three inches of my cleavage. The standard heels were five inches in height, stiletto heel and open toed, my pink toenails proudly on display. My makeup semi-permanent lipstick and rouge pink to match my nails. Three piercings in each ear, two studs and one pair of four inch hoops all in shades of pink. My hair had been styled, the pinkish blonde color tying all of my outfit together.
Now for the bus ride home, another rule of the new society. No males allowed to own or operate a car, much less ride in one unless he was engaged or married, his significant other to be the driver. Once home I slipped out of my heels and put on the required mules for the evening. The calves of my legs already throbbing, but there was nothing I could do about it. Rules are rules. I ate my salad, now that I am employed a bit larger one than when I was un-employed. I am allowed thirty minutes of TV, from the restricted list of shows for males. Then had to get ready for bed. Undressed, a ten minute shower, then moisturizing cream for my whole body. Thus prepared for bed I made my way to the chair and slipped into it positioning my arms in the restraints and leaning my head back into the holder for that purpose. At exactly 09:01 the restraints tightened around my arms and my head was secured in its holder. The butt plug was eased into my rear passage and inflated keeping it secure for the rest of the evening. At 08:01 the next morning the procedure was reversed, then I dressed to go to work. Much better than when I didn’t have a job.
Whether I fell asleep right away or later was not the problem of the chair, its function was to see that my hairdo remained pristine and that I did not engage in sex of any kind during the evening. As a secondary function it will handle all normal excrements for a male during the evening. Males are not allowed any kind of a sexual release unless they are married and their spouses want it to happen. Such is the life of a male who now has a job in a female led society. I am so happy I finally have a job. Years of hoping and praying finally fulfilled.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker