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Michelle's Story

Book One: Falling, Smooth and Pink

By Cindi J., Dallas Texas

Part 1

Typical of lunch hour, the restaurant was crowded and noisy. Three young

ladies sat in a booth in the back or the dining area, sipping coffee. They

talked in hushed, earnest voices, as if the subject were of a serious nature.

"Yes, it's true. And I've got the proof right here," said the young lady as

she set various documents on the table. Lisa was strikingly pretty, with fair

skin and jet black hair cut in a fashion made popular by the film Pulp

Fiction. She wore a business woman's suit colored soft green, with a white

blouse.

"Look, here they are. Four travel vouchers, all filed for the same month, all

using photocopies of the same receipts, all with our signatures forged by

Mike," said Lisa. "I tell you, the stupid guy tried to rip off the company. He

figured that by putting our SSNs on the vouchers that nobody would ever know.

And by putting his address on the vouchers, the checks went right to him. Then

he would forge our signatures again on the checks, and deposit the endorsed

checks into his bank account. Since we never travel, there wouldn't be any

duplicate vouchers filed. And he would have gotten away with it, if I hadn't

happened to notice my name showing up on the Accounts Payable listing."

"Unbelievable," exclaimed Josie, a young hispanic woman. Like Lisa, Josie was

in her mid-twenties; she had a dark complexion and shoulder length hair so

dark that it glistened under the restaurant's lighting. Not as professionally

dressed as Lisa, Josie wore a pink dress with matching shoes.

"So, what are you gonna do," asked Mary. Mary was the tallest of the girls,

almost 5 foot 9. She had long blond hair with a red ribbon tied in back; She

wore a sexy, low-cut pink blouse and a short blue skirt. Mary was definitely

able to turn any mans' head.

"Well, I was going to turn him in, but then I got to thinking. Mike has been

such a jerk since he came to our unit. Always strutting around like a rooster

in a hen house; always stealing the best assignments; always, well, you know,

just acting like he deserves better treatment just because he's a guy," said

Lisa.

"Don't we all know it," exclaimed Josie. "But he is the only guy working in

the Payables Department, so I imagine he does consider himself as the number

one rooster in our little henhouse."

"Until he came around, our department was just a great place to work," Mary

added. "We had twelve women and no men. We girls weren't out trying to compete

with each other. Then he came, and started acting as if he was god's gift to

all of us. Always going around with his macho superior attitude. The pig!"

"Don't you know it," laughed Lisa. "Well, I think it's time that we cut off

Mike's macho attitude."

"But how," Mary inquired.

"Listen, girls. I've got a plan," said Lisa.

Part 2

Sunday morning, while watching Meet The Press, I heard the phone ring. I had

been up for an hour or two, had read most of the Sunday newspaper, and had

settled back to enjoy a bit of political jostling on television.

"Yea, this is Mike. What's up," I said into the phone.

"Mike. This is Lisa. Say, my car won't start. Will you please come over and

give my battery a jump."

"Lisa," I said. "What a surprise. But why are you calling me. You've always

ignored me when I asked you out."

"Oh, come on, Mike. My house is only a few blocks away. Surely you can do me a

favor, can't you."

"Well maybe, but I may require a little payment, if you know what I mean," I

laughed.

Part 3

I was surprised to see three cars in Lisa's driveway as I approached. What the

hell, I thought, why couldn't she get a jump from one of those cars? Lisa

opened the door as I walked up to the house, and invited me in. I noticed she

wore tight blue jeans which showed off her feminine figure. Inside, I was

surprised to see two coworkers, Mary and Josie.

"Hey," I said to the three girls, "maybe I can jump start all three of you!"

"Shut up, bozo," replied Lisa, "and sit down. We've got something to talk

about."

Part 4

"You're crazy! No way! I'm outa here!" My face was flushed from tension as I

began to get up from the table.

"Fine," Lisa said. It's your choice; you can live with the consequences."

Damn, I thought, what will I do now? Surely the company will file charges

against me, and I may even end up in jail. At the minimum I'll be fired and my

career will cease to exist. All my studies, my years in college, all my work

trying to get established, all for naught, just because I got greedy for a

few extra bucks. I hesitated, then sat back down.

"OK, OK, you win. I'll do what you want," I said with a sigh of resignation.

"Smart decision, Jim. But just remember, you will do as we say, or else. Now,

Jim, since you've become so adept at using a feminine persona when preparing

travel reports, we've decided to give you a real, full fledged female persona.

Jim, you're going to be a girl for awhile, just like us. You'll dress like us,

act like us, and who knows, maybe even think like us. That would definitely be

a worthwhile change, considering your innate macho arrogance."

"But wait," I stuttered, "you can't..."

"Shut up," Mary yelled. "Shut up and listen, or off to jail you go!"

"That's right," Lisa added. "Now do as I say. Go to the upstairs bathroom. You

have a half hour to shower and shave. Not just your face, but everywhere.

Legs. Arms, Underarms, Rear, Everywhere. Now go to it, girl."

Wide eyed but speechless, I rose from the chair and started walking up the

stairs. This was all so crazy. Maybe the girls weren't serious. Maybe once I

shaved they would make a little fun of me and then send me home. I could

handle that. After all, anything was better than getting fired and going to

jail.

Lisa's bathroom was large and decorated in a very feminine fashion, with

flowered wall paper, thick pink throw rugs, and jars and bottles of women's

toiletries all over. I stripped, then looked at myself in the mirror: I saw a

man, average height (I was 5'9"), with a thin build. I tried to imagine what I

would look like without body hair, but the idea was too strange to even

imagine. I located an electric razor and a regular razor, and shaving lotion,

and then I set to work on the task facing me.

Part 5

"Well, Lisa, it looks like you were right. He is going to do it after all,"

said Josie.

"I knew he would. Generally, guys that act tough are insecure inside. Jim's

just scared shitless of his whole world crashing down on him if we turn him

in. What he doesn't realize is that it's gonna crash anyhow. We'll see to

that, won't we," Lisa said.

Part 6

Having removed all my body hair, I sat under the shower and watch the

remaining loose hairs wash from me and flow down into the drain. I heard the

bathroom door open.

"I've left your panties and your bra next to the sink. Put them on and come

out so that we can see you. And Hurry," Lisa said.

I quickly got out of the shower and dried myself. Just as Lisa had said, my

lingerie was on the counter. Picking up the panties, I noticed that they were

soft pink in color, and had a triangle of lace in front. The panties were of a

tight lycra material and fitted me very tight. Once I got the panties on I

fumbled with the bra for a few minutes before giving up and leaving the

bathroom with the pink bra still in my hand.

Blushing under the gaze of my coworkers as I stepped into the living room, I

said to Lisa, "This thing is crazy. I have no idea how to put a bra on."

"Well, girl, you had better learn," exclaimed Lisa. "And you also had better

adopt a better attitude, one more in keeping with your new role in life. So,

from now on you will be shy and passive; you will always show deference to

all women. That means you will ALWAYS address us by our title. If you speak

to me, you address me as Miss Lisa. And if you don't like it, leave right now.

Either face the consequences of your actions like a man, or get used to acting

like a shy little girl.

"Yes, Miss Lisa," I replied after a long silence. So, I thought to myself,

this is it. No turning back. I got myself into this, and now I must pay the

consequences.

"So, what do you think? Is the new girl smooth enough? Or should we spread

Nair all over her," Lisa said, addressing the others.

"Oh, yes," Josie said, "I'd say Mike is very smooth indeed. Such soft skin!" I

felt a shiver through my body as Josie walked around me, inspecting me from

head to foot.

"But Mike is no longer a fitting name for our little girl, is it," asked Mary.

"How about Michelle. That's a very feminine name, don't you think. Well, what

do you say, Michelle," she asked, looking at me, with a broad smile on her

face.

"Yes, Miss Mary. That's fine," I said, not sure what kind of response Mary

wanted from me.

"Good! Now, introduce yourself to us, girl," Mary commanded.

I swallowed hard, then forced out the words, "Hi. My name is Michelle."

"Michelle! Oh, what a pretty name," laughed Mary. "Tell us, Michelle, are you

a boy or a girl?"

Anger seethed within me; I wanted to take Mary and..., teach her a lesson! But

I couldn't. These women had me trapped. After a few moments I calmed down and

responded, "I'm not a man. I'm a girl."

"And a sweet young thing at that, Michelle," Lisa chimed in. Now, girl,

let's put your bra on. A girl shouldn't go around with her titties showing,

you know." With that. Josie and Mary took the bra from me, had me hold my

arms out, put the bra on me and fastened it securely in back. Obviously I

lacked anything to fill it, which made me look even more ridiculous.

I felt foolish standing there in the middle of the room, hairless, in women's

lingerie. What was next, I wondered.

"OK, Michelle," Lisa said, as if to answer my thought, "we're off to get you

prettied up. We'll take my car. Let's go!"

"But, Miss Lisa," I replied, astonished, "I can't leave here. Not like this.

Please, Miss Lisa!"

"Shut up, Michelle, and do as I say," Lisa commanded.

Luckily Josie came to my rescue. "Maybe Michelle is right. A girl shouldn't

go outside dressed only in her lingerie. Lisa, do you have anything Michelle

could slip on for the trip?"

I had hoped that Josie would talk the others out of this foolishness, but

instead, the girls just agreed to let me wear one of Lisa's raincoats for the

trip. The coat was colored a pale rose hue. I quickly donned it (anything was

better than standing around like I was) and buttoned it up. My bare legs still

showed, and considering the fact that it wasn't cold or raining outside, I

still looked odd, to say the least, but overall it was better than crossing

town wearing only lingerie.

Part 7

Quickly I shut the car door, then crouched low in the seat. I wanted no one to

see me; after all, with my fairly short hair and lack of makeup and breasts,

it was clear to anyone that I was a male; a man with bare, hairless legs

wearing a girl's coat. Luckily no neighbors had been outside to see my exit

from Lisa's house. Josie sat with me in the back seat; Mary sat in front while

Lisa drove.

During the trip the girls talked about work, movies, and fashions, all the

while ignoring my presence completely. Meanwhile, I became increasingly

fearful of what was in store for me. Finally, after fifteen minutes of being

ignored, I gathered the courage to ask about my fate.

"Miss Josie," I said, "where are we going? What is going to happen to me?

Please help me, Miss Josie. You know, I was never mean to you at work, was I?"

Josie paused for several moments before responding. "Well Michelle, you were

never very nice to me at work either, were you? But that's OK, I'll tell you

what you want to know, although it doesn't matter. What's gonna happen is

gonna happen. Neither you nor I can really change that now. You shouldn't have

tried to steal from the company, and you sure shouldn't have done it using our

names!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Josie," I pleaded.

"OK. Like I said, it's too late now. But don't worry, your so-called

punishment will actually be kinda fun. You are going to Loretta's, a women's

specialty shop down in the Turtle Creek area. It's a really nice place; they

do everything from makeovers to selling lingerie and nice clothes. It's rather

expensive, but that's OK, you'll be paying with your credit card. I tell you,

any of us girls would simply love spending an afternoon at Loretta's, getting

pampered and buying nice fashionable clothes. Indeed, Michelle, if this is

punishment, I only wish that I could be punished in such a manner!"

"You mean I'll be treated..."

"Michelle," Josie interrupted sharply, "have you forgotten how to address me

already?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Josie," I replied, biting my tongue in frustration. "Miss

Josie, what will happen to me at Loretta's?"

"Oh, don't worry, they will treat you well, just like they treat all the young

ladies that shop there," she replied. "Look, Michelle, we're here!"

Sure enough, Lisa had pulled into a parking lot across the street from a

shopping center. Loretta's was in the middle of the center. Before I knew it

the girls had gotten out of the car and were starting across the street. I had

no choice but to follow.

Feeling foolish, I got out of the car and walked swiftly to catch up with the

girls. We had to wait a moment for the light to change before crossing the

street. Dressed as I was, I couldn't help but imagine that every occupant of

every car was staring at me with bewilderment.

Part 8

Loretta's was a fancy clothes shop. Racks of expensive clothes were

everywhere. Full length mirrors were scattered throughout the store. Far in

the back was a small salon and an adjoining tea room. A clerk was standing

behind a cosmetics counter near the door; she was young, probably still a

teenager, had long blond hair, deep blue eyes, and wore a red blouse, short

black skirt, a gold necklace and bracelets. Her name tag read "Amanda".

Amanda was staring at me when we reached her counter. "Hi," Lisa said, "my

friend here, Michelle (she nodded towards me) would like to get a full

makeover, if you have an opening. She also would like assistance in selected

several nice outfits, as well as accessories, jewelry, makeup, and lingerie.

Heck, Michelle needs the works, if you know what I mean. Don't you, Michelle?"

"Yes," I said quietly, "I do."

"Yes..., Amanda said after thinking for a few moments. "Sunday is not our

busiest day. We'll be able to get started right away, if you prefer."

"Great! Michelle will really like this," exclaimed Mary with a giggle.

"Here is Michelle's credit card. She prefers to charge everything," Lisa said

as she handed my Mastercard to Amanda.

Amanda looked at card, then at me. "Mike Jackson. This is your card?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied with my eyes cast down.

"Mike..., I guess you prefer to go by the name Michelle," Amanda asked with a

smile.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied sheepishly.

"Well, Mike, Michelle is a very pretty name. And we'll have you looking very

pretty too, before long. Yes, we'll get you looking like the girl of your

dreams, Michelle," Amanda exclaimed.

At that point the girls had me go to the salon and have a seat. "Bye,

Michelle," Josie said after I had sat down. "We are going out to lunch and a

movie. We'll pick you up afterwards. Enjoy your makeover, girl!"

The girls and Amanda left me sitting alone; I couldn't hear what they were

saying, but apparently my coworkers were giving Amanda instructions on what to

do with me. Still shellshocked by all that had happened, I sat alone,

shivering and frightened, wearing only Lisa's coat and lingerie, awaiting my

makeover. I considered just leaving and taking the rap, but how could I? The

girls had left me stranded here, miles from home; and besides, the threat of

jail and unemployment was still all too real.

Part 9

After about ten minutes Amanda approached me, accompanied by a fashionably

dressed middle-aged woman. "Hi, Michelle, Amanda said, "this is Jeanette.

Together, we will try to make you into a beauty."

"Hello, Jeanette," I said, casting my eyes downward in embarrassment over my

situation.

"Hello Michelle," Jeanette said cheerfully. "Your friends say that you'd like

to cross the bridge, so to speak, and become a woman. I must admit that your

request is a bit odd. We don't get many males coming in here, you know. But

we will do our best to help you realize your dream. By the time you leave

here you will be a smartly dressed young lady," she said as she took my hand

and helped me remove Lisa's coat. I stood there, hairless and naked save for

Lisa's bra and panties, as the two women looked me over. Both appeared

momentarily shocked and embarrassed at the sight of me, but they soon

regained their composure.

"Luckily for you, Michelle, you are not large. I know many women who are

taller than you. And you are not at all muscular, I see. Yes," Jeanette

continued, talking to herself more than to me, "your body has feminine

possibilities, to be sure. Tall and thin, just like a model, you are. You

will need to wear a bit of hip padding..., it'll give you girlish curves; and

of course you'll need breasts. But we have that right here. Silicon to

replace what God forgot. Yes, Michelle, you'll make a fine girl. Now here,

put on this smock for us. We can't have you standing around in your lingerie

all day, now can we."

Gratefully I took the pink smock from Jeanette and put it on. Although it was

clearly a feminine garment, with a bit of lace trim about the hem, it

nonetheless hid my gender-blurred body from view.

"Michelle," Amanda asked as Jeanette led me to a salon chair, "I was just

wondering. Do you have, you know...., well,...., what real men have between

their legs?"

"Ah..., yes, Miss Amanda, I suppose I do..." I replied, blushing a bit.

"You do," she replied in a voice expressing surprise. "I didn't know. I

thought maybe you had it removed or something. Well, Michelle, when are you

going to have it removed?"

"Good question," added Jeanette. "With a name like Michelle, you'd surely be

much happier with a vagina, wouldn't you?"

Clearly put on the spot by their pointed questions, I hesitated before

responding. "Well, I suppose you are right, Miss Jeanette. But that's a big

change that I'm not, well, really ready for that yet, don't you think?"

"No, I don't agree at all," Jeanette said. "I say go for it. Believe me,

you'll feel much more comfortable once you have real breasts, and once you

replace your thing with a vagina."

"Oh, yes," Amanda quickly added. "You'll get used to it. I mean, the only big

difference is that you'll have to sit down to pee," she laughed.

"After all, Michelle," Jeanette continued, "if you were a real man, you

wouldn't be here right now getting your nails done, would you?" She had

already begun to work on my fingernails, shaping them, gluing, and I don't

know what else.

"I suppose not," I replied somewhat gloomily. "I suppose that if I were a

real man, I wouldn't be here at all, would I?"

I sure can't imagine my boyfriend sitting in here like you are, Michelle,"

Amanda said. "No, you're not a real man, that's for sure. But we'll make you

into a nice looking girl before long. Tell us, Michelle, if you don't mind me

being nosy, do you have a boyfriend of your own?"

"No, Miss Amanda, no," I replied, somewhat upset about the implications of her

question. But then, what was she to think? No, her question wasn't out of

line; it was I who was raising their questions just by being here.

"Don't worry, Michelle," Jeanette said. "When you leave here today, you'll be

so cute that men will be on you like bees on honey. It would help, though, if

you would get your own vagina. When it comes to a long term relationship with

a man, that thing between your legs could definitely botch up your chances.

Really, Michelle, you had better start thinking seriously about it."

"Yes, Miss Jeanette," I replied. Then, hoping to change the topic of

conversation, I asked her what all was on today's agenda.

"Michelle, your friends have asked that you be given our princess treatment.

I hope you realize how lucky you are to have such caring friends. It won't be

easy for you to become a woman. They'll be able to help you in a lot of ways.

But, to get back to your question, this is what we have planned. After your

manicure and pedicure, we'll fit you with a pretty wig. Then we'll work on

your breasts, and size you up with nice silicone inserts. You'll have to use

those until you get your own titties, girl," she laughed.

"And while you're there in our lingerie department," Amanda said,

interrupting Jeanette, "it'll be time to select your unmentionables. We girls

love nice, feminine lingerie, don't we? We'll fit you with several bras and

let you select your favorite styles of panties; judging from what you were

wearing when you came, you obviously love pink, and lots of frilly lace!"

I sat in disbelief as the two women continued. I saw myself slipping into a

new reality from which I would not be able to extricate myself. This was all

going so far! I knew Lisa intended to punish me, but to what lengths would

she go? I accepted that the three girls would humiliate me, but I had hoped it

was for just today. After all, we all had to get back to normal tomorrow for

work. So why all this? What was Lisa thinking?

"And we'll also give you some nice hip padding, just to enhance your feminine

shape a bit," Amanda continued.

"Yes, Michelle," said Jeanette, "you'll need all your padding properly in

place, because after that we'll be helping you select several nice outfits.

Your friends gave us a pretty good idea on what you'll need, starting with

several dresses, several skirts, white and pink blouses, all

office-appropriate, of course."

"What do you mean, office appropriate," I asked.

"Oh, you know, something you can wear to work, of course. Obviously a girl

can't wear a halter top to work, can she? Just nice, conservative clothing,

rather like Amanda and I are wearing," Jeanette said.

"And don't worry, Michelle, you'll also get to select a few casual outfits,

too. But your friend Mary says no slacks or jeans. She says you don't like

those. I guess you like the feel of skirts, don't you," Amanda said, giggling

a bit as she watched me, seated at the salon chair, wearing my pink smock,

while Jeanette finished up with my nails.

"And, of course, you'll go to our shoe department to pick out several pairs of

nice high heels, and to the accessories department to pick out a purse, maybe

two, and finally to cosmetics for mascara, lipstick, foundation, as well as a

quick course on how you'll apply your makeup. And perfume. You'll want to

both look like a girl and smell like a girl, won't you?"

"And all these were Lisa's ideas," I asked, dumbstruck by what she was forcing

upon me.

"No, not really," Amanda said, grinning like a cat. "Your friends said that

this was all your idea, but that you were a little too embarrassed to come

here by yourself. You know, Michelle, you don't really need to be ashamed. Men

are not really superior to us, are they? You should be proud of the fact that

you want to be, and will be, a girl. You don't need to be so shy about your

dreams!"

I couldn't tell whether Amanda meant to belittle me with her lecture. Soon

she returned to the front of the store, as Jeanette worked on my pedicure,

then on my face. I felt her plucking my eyebrows and started to protest, but

didn't. It was too late now. I didn't want Lisa to turn me in tomorrow.

Jeanette gave me a women's magazine, "Glamour", to read while she worked on

me. Several times I noticed Amanda walk by the salon with other ladies; from

the way they talked in hushed tones and took hurried glimpses of me, it was

clear to me that Amanda was showing me of to other customers, as if I were

just a pet. I was actually a bit relieved when, at last, Jeanette fitted me

with a wig; at least with the wig on my head I wouldn't be instantly

recognized as a male. Jeanette tried several wigs on me, then had me use the

mirrors to look myself over. To be honest, I was amazed how feminine I looked.

She had applied makeup to my face, arched and shaped my eyebrows, and applied

bright red lipstick. My hands now had long, shaped nails, also painted bright

red.

"I must say, dear, that you look just beautiful," Jeanette said as she stepped

back to inspect her creation. She had placed an auburn wig on me, one softly

shaped in a feminine manner, with the hair coming down to about an inch above

my shoulders. "What do you think, Melissa, do you like it?"

"Yes, this one is very nice," I replied truthfully.

"Indeed it is, girl. Well, you've got a good start on realizing your dream,

princess. Next stop is the lingerie department. I just know you'll like it

there. Come on, girl, let's go!"

Part 10

I stood up and followed Jeanette. The lingerie department was near the other

back corner. We passed through the Tea Shop, where two women about my age were

having coffee and cheese cake. They quit speaking when they saw us pass; from

the way I walked, as well as my flat chest, they were easily able to recognize

my true gender.

Jeanette reached the lingerie department with me, still dressed in the pink

smock, closely in tow. Another woman was waiting there; she was about 30 years

old, hispanic, petite, and like all the employee's at Loretta's, very finely

dressed. Wearing a simply styled black dress highlighted by a thick gold

necklace, she welcomed Jeanette by warmly grasping her hand and kissing her

on her cheek. I noticed the wedding ring on her finger had a very large

diamond inset.

"Hi, Maria," Jeanette said warmly. "Let me introduce Michelle. She's here

getting our full princess treatment. I just finished with her nails and

makeup, and now Michelle would like you to help her select some pretty

lingerie, isn't that right, Michelle?"

"Yes, Miss Jeanette, that's right," I replied, trying to look as casual as

possible, as if my situation was not at all out of the norm.

"Well, Michelle....," Maria said as she closely looked me over from head to

toe, "I see...., and how exactly can I help you first?"

My air of self-assurance quickly disappeared under the gaze of Jeanette and

Maria. "I don't know," I stuttered, "I suppose that first I'll need, ah...,

well I'll need...breasts..., female breasts...you know."

"Whoa! Michelle needs female breasts," Maria said in mock seriousness. "You

are lacking a bit in your feminine development, I see. Not a lot of cleavage

on you, girl. But OK. Jeanette, you've brought me a real challenge this time,

but I'll do my best to make Michelle here into a true princess. Michelle,

take off your smock and let's get started."

"Right here, out in the open? Can't we go into the fitting room for this," I

pleaded.

"Oh, no. It's too cramped in a fitting room, and besides, girl, you'll have

to get used to this, you know. I assume you are planning to become a

full-time woman," she asked as she lifted my pink smock over my head, leaving

me standing there in the middle of the lingerie department, hairless, wearing

only panties and a bra with empty cups, although now with makeup and wig.

Embarrassed to be exposed in such a manner, I wanted to run for cover and

leave, but I knew I had no place to go, no clothes to wear.

"Well, I suppose so, Miss Maria," I replied, "but still, this is embarrassing

to be out where everyone can see me."

"Michelle, if you are so concerned about being embarrassed, why are you

wearing a bra and panties", she asked. "Are you a man or are you a woman,

Michelle?"

Good question, I thought. Even I wasn't sure what I was anymore. "I'm a.....,

woman. I'm a woman," I replied, not wanting to admit I was a man in girl's

clothes, even though such was obvious to Maria.

"So, Michelle is a woman? Good! Then you needn't feel funny about being fitted

for your new bras, should you? Now I could see why a man would be very

embarrassed to be wearing a bra and panties in public. I know my husband would

never be seen in such a situation. But then, he is a real man. He doesn't

shave his legs and wear mascara like women do. He has thick hair on his chest

and underarms. Us girls don't have hair like that, do we? For example,

Michelle, your chest is as smooth and soft as a peach, and you haven't a trace

of underarm hair. But then, Michelle, that's because you are a woman, isn't

that so?" As she talked, she used a tape measure to determine the size of my

hips, waist, and chest; meanwhile, Jeanette left us to return to her own

department.

"Yes, ma'am. I am a woman," I replied; after all, how could I claim a place in

manhood looking as I now did?

"OK, young lady, then let's get you some breasts! Here," she said as she

handed me a lacy bra, "put this on while I go in back to get them." With

that, Maria disappeared through a door to the storeroom. I stood there for a

moment, uncertain of what to do, then started struggling to remove Lisa's bra.

Just as I got the bra off, Amanda came by together with the two women that I

had passed in the tea room.

"Hey, Michelle, she said loudly, "you're looking nice, girl! A bit flat

chested, though," she joked.

"Yes, Amanda," I replied, trying to portray a calm demeanor as I worked on

getting the new bra onto my chest, "but Maria's promised to fix that."

"I'm sure you'll look stunning, Michelle," she said, giggling, as she and the

two customers walked away.

Maria came out from the storeroom carrying two white boxes. "Oh, you've got

your bra on already, I see. You must wear bras often, don't you? Well, here

are your new charms," she said as she opened the boxes to reveal two soft,

skin colored objects, each the size and shape of a woman's breast. I couldn't

help but blush bright red as Maria inserted the one, followed by the other,

into the bra's cups. Just like that I was as full breasted as most any girl.

"Go ahead, Michelle, move around a bit, feel them, see how you like being

blessed with a female body," Maria commanded.

Still blushing, I walked about a bit, wiggled my chest, and even felt my new

breasts with my hands. As I looked into the full length mirror I could tell

that now I did appear, at first glance at least, to be a woman. Rather than

feeling humiliated by this, I actually felt a bit better; being perceived by

others as just another woman was far better than being perceived by them as a

man dressed like a girl. Next she led me to a dressing room where I donned

some type of girdle; it was long, extending from my waist to a couple of

inches onto my thighs, made of sturdy lycra, and padded in the hip and

buttocks area. This garment was white and covered with white lace. Once on, it

was so tight that my maleness was squeezed out of sight. After donning this

garment I returned to Maria, who waited for me in the lingerie department.

"Well look at you now," she exclaimed as I approached, "such a feminine figure

you have, Michelle!"

"Thank you, Maria," I said with sincerity. "This is much better. Maybe people

won't stare so much now."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Michelle," Maria said. "You'll still get stares,

at least from men," she laughed. "But, now that we've got you shaped right,

let's set you up with some cute and lovely unmentionables. I just know that a

girl like you loves shopping for lingerie, don't you?"

"Well, I really haven't done this before," I responded.

"Sure you haven't, Michelle. Somehow I can't help but question that. I bet

you've worn panties since you were a little girl, or should I say boy?"

"No, Miss Maria," I said, reverting back into the submissive mode as her

questions shredded my masculinity.

"Oh, Michelle, how can you say that. Here, look at these," she said, holding

up a pair of lacy pink panties, "they are so frilly, so pretty, so girlish!

You must love to wear nice feminine items like these, otherwise you wouldn't

be here. But don't worry, Michelle, being a woman is a blessing from God.

Being female is much better than being male. I tell you, Michelle, I never

once wished that I were a man! But now, let's get busy, girl, or you'll be

here all day!" With that, we began to select numerous items, including bras,

panties, slips, half-slips, and even a frilly pink nightgown; often I would

have to slip on an article to allow Maria to fit it properly. All the while

Maria kept chattering, explaining, for example, that my bras must fit properly

so that my breasts wouldn't sag like "an old woman's"; that I must always

remember to move with controlled, feminine movements; and always interjecting

embarrassing comments about how I would be so happy as a female.

Part 11

Once finished in the lingerie department, we moved on to the Misses

Department, where both Maria and Amanda took turns in selecting a number of

outfits for me. Initially I tried to influence things, thinking that perhaps I

could negotiate into buying clothes of a more or less unisex nature. Amanda

first took me into the "working women" area and showed me what was available;

as a man whose dress was limited to, basically, gray suits or blue suits with

white shirts, I was surprised and confused by the variety of office wear

available to women, something I had never realized before today.

"Oh, Michelle, isn't this all just so exciting," Amanda gushed after the tour.

"It's hard for a girl to know where to start. But you're the customer, and

around here, the customer is the queen! What strikes your fancy, girl?"

Damn, I thought to myself, I wish they would stop calling me girl all the

time! They knew full well I wasn't a girl. But I said nothing; dressed as I

was now in lacy white lingerie, including a slip and sheer pantyhose, I

probably couldn't expect to be called sir.

"Well, Amanda," I stammered, averse to selecting Misses outfits for me to

wear, "how about this suit over here?" I selected a nice, gray women's suit,

with double breasted jacket and tailored slacks, and held it up for Amanda to

see.

"Are you kidding, Michelle," Amanda said with exasperation. "Here we are

busting our fannys to make you into a sexy lady, and you want to wear that!

No way, girl. Come over here!" Amanda grasped my hand and led me across the

aisle, and within a minute she too had selected a women's business suit, only

this was was a soft rose color, and had a short, pleated skirt instead of the

slacks of the previous one. "Now when you wear this, Michelle, you'll present

the image of a professional woman who is secure in her femininity. Other

women will look at you and think "educated professional" while men will look

at you and think "cute and sexy"! You can have it both ways, girl!"

After selecting a lacy white blouse, Amanda accompanied me to the dressing

area and helped me put on my new outfit. I thought how, before today,

undressing in front of a girl would be for both me and the girl a very

sexually charged action, but here I was, changing clothes in front of this

very cute young lady, and she was not in the least bothered. In fact, it was

obvious that Amanda saw my predicament as amusing. Clearly I was no longer, in

her eyes, a male; while she may not have considered me a true female, neither

did she think of me as a man dressed as a woman. Maybe she thought of me as a

type of eunuch, I don't know. But the tension that normally seperates

male from female had vanished; Amanda no longer considered me as the opposite

sex.

When I looked into the full length mirror, I saw what appeared to be a rather

normal looking woman. Seeing my legs exposed beneath the short skirt (which

came to at most four inches above my knees) was embarrassing; the short skirt,

with its pleats, looked like something a high school cheerleader would wear.

"Miss Amanda," I said, "maybe this suit is just a bit too..., a...., you know,

too feminine. Especially with this short skirt. I just feel uncomfortable in

it."

"Oh, don't worry, Michelle, you'll get used to it very soon. Believe me, you

look really sexy! You know, your friend Lisa warned me that you might resist

the best fashions, but she wisely says that we must get you dressed properly.

If you buy clothes that you'll consider stale after you wear them once, then

you'll be wasting a lot of money. Now this suit looks so nice on you, you'll

always enjoy wearing it. OK, Michelle, we have a lot to do, so quit fighting

me like a little girl."

"Yes, Miss Amanda," I said unenthusiastically, "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am, Michelle. But before we can continue, you've got to get

shoes on. It's too hard to make a proper judgement on clothes unless you are

wearing your high heels. Come with me."

Amanda led me across the store to the `shoes and accessories' department,

where a young man was stocking a shipment that had just arrived.

"Michelle, this is John," Amanda said, introducing me to the young man, "he's

the manager of the shoe department, although I work here myself occasionally,

so I'll be able to assist you here." John looked to be about 25, was of

medium build and height, and conservatively dressed in white shirt and tie.

"John, this is Michelle," Amanda continued, smiling. "She's getting our

princess treatment today. She needs several pairs of shoes."

"Pleased to meet you, Michelle," John said to me. "I'm sure you'll find many

styles you'll like here. Amanda and I will show you all you need. Besides", he

glanced at Amanda with a grin, "I'm rather partial to Amanda, so I'll really

enjoy working with both of you."

"Quit flirting with me on the job, John, cause you'll never get anywhere," she

said with a coy grin. Apparently John and Amanda liked each other a bit.

"Michelle, that's a very nice looking suit you've selected. I would suggest

these beige pumps would go well with that suit," John said as he showed me a

shoe that was on display. It was an open toed shoe with a 2 or 3 inch high

heel, and a tiny bow on top the toe section.

I sat down as John measured my foot and went to get a pair in my size. "See,

Michelle, John just thinks you're a regular girl. Aren't you proud of how

cute a girl you've become today," Amanda asked.

"Yes, I suppose so," I replied, a bit embarrassed to be accepted as a woman,

"but I think he's all eyes for you, Miss Amanda."

"Don't I know it! He's always after me. But he is kinda cute, don't you

think?"

"Yes he is, Miss Amanda," I replied, regretting that I steered the

conversation in this direction.

"Don't worry, Michelle, I won't tell him what you just said," she giggled as

John returned with my shoes.

John slipped the heels onto my feet and had me stand up and walk around a bit.

Wobbling, and able to take only very short steps, it was obvious to anyone

watching that I had never worn high heels before.

"Be careful, Michelle! You walk like a little girl who's slipped on her

mother's shoes for the first time," Amanda joked. "Did you know, John, that

this is Michelle's first time out as a woman. She was Mike until about an hour

or two ago, and now look, she's blossomed like a rose in sunshine! What do you

think, John, haven't we done a good job of making her pretty?"

John grimaced, but held his tongue. After that he treated me coldly, while

Amanda, having a great time, fitted me into five other pairs of shoes,

including a pair of navy blue pumps with three inch heels, and a pair of pink

shoes with a lower, one and a half inch heel. I tried to convince Amanda that

I should get flats, like penny loafers, but she stonewalled my suggestions.

"High heels will force you to walk with nice, feminine steps, and will also

make your legs look long and sexy," Amanda said. "Believe me, Michelle, you'll

grow to love them. I bet that before long you'll have a closet full of the

prettiest shoes in town!"

Since the Accessories Department was adjacent to the Shoe Department, Amanda

took me directly over there after we had selected my shoes. She wasted no time

in selecting three purses for me: two were of average size and had long

straps, apparently meant to hang onto my shoulder; one was beige and the other

blue. The third was a small pink clutch purse.

"But why do I need three purses, Amanda," I asked incredulously. "I mean, all

guys get by with just one small wallet. Why would I possibly need three

purses?"

"Michelle! Calm down! Remember, you're a woman now, so try to think like one.

First, girls like us love to carry purses, and second, we girls need to carry

purses. After all, guys don't carry around lipstick, mascara, face powder,

perfume, tampons, and the like, do they? I mean, like, when Mike went

off to work in the morning, he probably didn't take spare tampons with him,

but when Amanda and Michelle go out, we better carry some with us, just in

case! And lipstick: I bet Mike seldom had to touch up his lipstick after

lunch, did he? But I promise you Michelle will! And really, Michelle, would

you want to carry a blue purse while wearing a pretty pink outfit? Of course

you wouldn't, girl! Let me suggest, Michelle, that you look in a mirror every

so often, just to remind you of who you are. Then maybe you won't ask such

foolish questions."

"Yes, Miss Amanda, you're right," I replied, intimidated by her lecture.

Part 12

And so the afternoon continued. After selecting my purses and belts, we went

back and selected another half dozen outfits. After that I was handed back

over to Maria's care, who proceeded to help me select earrings and other

jewelry, as well as makeup. Maria was especially animated as we methodically

chose item after item of makeup. For each, she instructed me how I should

apply it, all the while talking to me as if I were a little girl being allowed

for the first time in her life to use real makeup. After that, since Lisa and

the girls had still not returned, Maria led me back to the lingerie department

where together we selected another more items, including two slips, pantyhose

of various hues, several pairs of panties, another lacy nightgown, a robe "for

cool evenings", and two more bras.

Maria was packing up all these purchases when the girls returned. I noticed

them walking through the store looking for me; they walked right past Maria

and I without recognizing me. Apparently my transformation had been

considerably more successful than any of them had anticipated. Amanda

intercepted them and led them to me.

"Well," Amanda gushed, "what do you think? Isn't she something!"

All three stared at me for a moment, wide-eyed. "Damn," Lisa exclaimed, "you

really did a job on our friend, Amanda. I would never have recognized you,

Mike," she added as she studied my outfit.

"Hey," Maria said, "there's no Mike around here. This is Michelle. And we are

very proud of her. She's been a very nice and cooperative young lady all

afternoon, and very helpful, too. Michelle will definitely make a nice woman!"

"So I see," Josie said with a nervous grin. "I had no idea a man could be made

to look so..., feminine."

"You said it! I tell you, Michelle, looking at you a lot of real girls could

get jealous," Mary added.

Embarrassed by my situation, I just followed along as Lisa, Josie, and Mary

met with Maria and Amanda to review my purchases and finalize the bill. Lisa

had Amanda add a $200 tip to the total, then told me to sign the credit card

bill. I saw the figure as if it was unreal: $2,962.11. What did it matter, I

thought as I signed the bill. This life of mine had ended anyway.

The girls animatedly discussed my new wardrobe as Lisa drove home. They helped

transport all my acquisitions into my car, and when finished, Lisa said "OK,

Michelle, go home now and rest. We will see you at work tomorrow. Choose a

pretty outfit, Michelle. Oh, and by the way: don't be late, or else."

Michelle's Story

Book Two: Workplace Blues in New Shoes

Part 13

Sunday's strange events had so drained me that I quickly went into a deep

sleep, broken only by the buzzing of my alarm clock. It took me a few minutes

to orientate myself; something felt odd....; then I remembered! No, it wasn't

all just a dream.

I lay in bed for ten minutes, just thinking. What should I do? Although I

still hoped that the girls would call and tell me their joke was over, that

looked less and less likely to happen. It now appeared Lisa really expected me

to go through with this, and if I didn't, she would turn me in. No doubt about

that! And I would be fired. And my career would be over. And most likely I

would be prosecuted and perhaps jailed.

But if I really succumbed to Lisa's punishment, what then? I would face great

ridicule. Maybe I would be let go, but gently: I doubted that the company

would want to make a big show of it. In fact, I could probably get them to

agree not to mention my "situation" to any others, so that I would still have

a good reference when I sought a new job in a new city. And maybe that would

be best; to get clear of this cloud and then leave town. I wasn't from Dallas,

after all. I had no family here. I could just quietly move to another state

and start over again, if only I had no criminal record and if I could use the

company as a reference.

So it was that I convinced myself to do it; besides, I kept thinking that

maybe Lisa would call off this nonsense at the last minute.

I showered and shaved my face, legs, and arms, just as Lisa had commanded me

to do yesterday evening. A sense of shame swept through my being when, while

drying myself with a towel, I glimpsed the sight of my new, feminine looking

body in the mirror. I quickly sat down and began to apply my makeup; I

followed the written instructions Amanda had given me: start with mascara,

then apply blusher, foundation, lipstick, powder, etc., and lastly my wig and

earrings. All this took so long I soon found myself falling behind; how do

girls do it, I wondered. I then began to dress: putting on the shaped panties

and the white pantyhose wasn't too bad; men wore underwear, which really

weren't that different from panties. Only when I grasped the lacy bra did the

magnitude of my situation fully hit me: men don't wear bras; men don't have

breasts. Once I donned my bra, and inserted my silicone breasts, I realized I

had crossed that line which so completely separates the sexes. Now, to the

eyes of others, and even to an extent in my own mind, I was no longer male: I

was female!

But I had no time for such musing, or I would be late to work, Lisa would turn

me in, and all would be lost. Hurriedly I donned my slip and then went to the

closet to select my outfit. Panic! What should I wear? As a man it never

mattered, gray suit, blue suit, no one cared. But now.....

First I took a pastel green dress that Amanda had forced me to model for her,

but then, embarrassed at the thought of wearing an actual woman's dress, I put

it back and took the rose colored suit with the short pleated skirt; Amanda

had also sold me a white silk blouse with lace cuffs and collar. It took some

time, but soon I was again wearing the outfit that I had become almost

accustomed to yesterday. Thankfully it hadn't wrinkled much!

I glanced at the clock; it was already after 8, and work started at 8:30. I

had to hurry! Not even time for any breakfast. Shoes were not a problem: I

chose pink pumps with a two inch heel, quickly checked my purse to make sure I

had my lipstick and compact, and then, after taking a furtive glance through

my window (luckily I saw nobody around), I walked outside and hurried to my

car. Still stunned by all that had happened, I drove away in an apprehensive

mood.

Part 14

It was 25 minutes after eight when I pulled into the parking lot. The

accounting office was located in a converted department store, a stand alone

structure, one story tall, with its own parking lot. Only a few bookkeeping

and accounting departments were located at this site, the head office being in

a large complex ten miles west of here. All together, only about 100 employees

worked at this site.

I pulled into an empty space and just sat, frozen with fear and anxiety. Could

I go through with this? What choice did I have? I looked at my hands, smooth

hairless hands with long red nails, and noticed they were trembling. With a

sigh, I took my purse and got out. I had to walk across the parking lot to

reach the door. Wearing high heels made the walk slow, as I was forced to take

only short steps and had to carefully watch where I stepped. I hoped with all

my heart that Lisa would come out and, with a laugh, let me off the hook and

send me home. But she didn't.

Part 15

I grasped the door and pulled it open; it seemed somehow heavier to me, as if

I was becoming physically weaker, like a female. Inside was a receptionist's

desk. The receptionist, Candy, was a young girl just out of high school,

pretty, maybe 5'6", with a very sweet, sexy voice. I had hoped she would be

away from her desk so that I might just slip by, but luck was not on my side

today.

"Yes, ma'am, may I help you," Candy asked, looking up from the magazine she

had been reading. I felt a cold sweat and considered just turning around and

leaving.

"Well..., I work here.." I replied in a feminine pitch, thinking maybe she

would just let me enter.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. What's your name so that I may check

our roster?"

"My name?" I replied, hesitating. "Why, I'm Jackson. Mike. You remember me,

Candy. I work in Payables."

She stared at me for a long moment as if I were crazy, then a large smile

crossed her face. "Mike? Is that really you? I can't believe this! It really

is you, isn't it? My God, what happened to you over the weekend?"

"Yes, Candy, it's me," I said, blushing. "Please don't make fun of me. I've

got to get going or I'll be late to work."

"Sure, Mike, whatever you say. By the way, that's a very pretty skirt you're

wearing, MIKE," she said, emphasizing my masculine name.

"Thank you, Candy," I replied as I hurried past her, sitting at her desk,

staring wide-eyed at me. The payables department was located towards the back

of the building; it wasn't really in a separate room, although dividers were

set up along its perimeter. As I walked through the building a few women

glanced at me, but none seemed to recognize me or my true gender. The sound of

my heels clicking as I walked further unnerved me.

Part 16

Entering the Payables department, I noticed several of my coworkers sitting in

the break area, which was located adjacent to the entrance, getting coffee and

gossiping before starting the day's work. Lisa and Mary were there. All heads

turned towards me; I saw Lisa and Mary smiling, while the other women just

stared, apparently not sure just who I was.

"May I help you, Miss," Lisa said aloud as I tried to walk by.

"Hello Lisa, it's me..., Mike," I replied. I had no choice but to act as if

Lisa and Mary knew nothing about what happened yesterday.

"Mike? Mike, is that really you," Lisa exclaimed. "Why Mike, you look so...so

pretty! Come here and let us all admire your new...your new look!" Lisa

grasped my hand and led me over to the breakroom; I couldn't help but blush as

the young women all stared at me.

"What's going on? Why are you dressed like a girl, Mike," asked Angie. Angie

was a single mother of two; she sat adjacent to my work area and had always

treated me well, although I had more or less ignored her existence. Though she

was pretty, I was never a man who would date a woman with kids. I had always

thought that beneath me.

"Well, Angie," I replied, actually speaking to the eight women that had

crowded around me, "it's kinda hard to explain. You know, a, me being the only

man here, it seemed like, sometimes, I didn't fit in so well. So, I thought

that, maybe, if I became...a..., more like the rest of you..., then we all

would..., a..., work better together. You know, as a team..." I blushed and

stuttered; I knew my line was unconvincing, but what could I say in this

situation?

Angie stared at me, dumbfounded. "What? You want to be more like us? You mean,

you want to be more like a woman?"

"Well Mike," Mary said, "I'd say you sure succeeded. You are a very cute

girl!" She and Lisa both started giggling uncontrollably.

"Yes Angie," I said softly. "I want to be more like you all are. I hope you

all don't mind. I hope you don't mind..."

"Well...I don't know...this is odd, Mike," Angie said, "but no, I guess I

don't mind if you, well, wear skirts and all. What do you all think, girls?"

Most of the others were still too surprised to say anything. Anna, a married

woman about my age, said, "Whatever you want, Mike. I suppose I can live with

another girl in the department."

"Oh, and by the way," I said sheepishly, "I'm using a different name now.

Michelle. If you all don't mind..., you know....you can call

me....Michelle...instead of.... Mike..., you know."

"MICHELLE," exclaimed Susan, another co-worker. "Damn! This is all a real

surprise, Mike....I mean Michelle. You never seemed to be...that way...you

know, effeminate. I know I never suspected that you wanted to be a girl! Why

didn't you tell us earlier, Michelle?"

"I was just a..., a little embarrassed," I replied, meekly.

"Yea, I suppose so," Susan said. "But anyway, Michelle, you make a nice

looking young lady. Your taste is impeccable, and a bit rich, too. You didn't

buy that pretty outfit at K-Mart, I bet."

"No..., but I better get to work now. Thanks for not making this all too hard

on me," I said to the women with sincerity.

"That's OK, Michelle. It'll take us a while to get used to your new.., ah...,

look, but it'll be all right," said Angie.

I walked over to my workspace and, feeling completely drained, sat down at my

desk. Since my cubical was mostly surrounded by space dividers, I had a

semblance of solitude there. My desk was empty except for my beige purse; I

thought to myself how lucky I was not to have one those big ugly purses that

so many women carry. From where I sat I could hear the girls talking

excitedly, but could not make out what they were saying. Most likely they were

talking about me. Eventually I pulled myself together a bit, opened my desk

and took out a couple case files, turned on my computer, and began to work.

All was strangely quiet for the first hour. No one came in to my cubical,

though I heard more people walking by then was usual. I guessed that Candy had

begun to spread word of me around, but I purposely did not look up from my

work as I did not want to get into any conversations.

Repeatedly I caught myself staring at my short skirt and at my legs, now clad

in white pantyhose. The sight was strange, so sexy as to be erotic had another

woman wearing it.

It was after ten before I had my first unwanted visitors.

"Hi, Michelle," I heard Angie say. Looking up, I saw Angie and Lisa.

"Michelle, Lisa and I just wanted to welcome you. We really don't mind that

you are like you are. I know it must be tough, your first day out and all, but

anyway...welcome, Michelle!"

"Thank you, Angie, I really appreciate that," I said.

"And just to show you how much we like you as Michelle, Lisa has some flowers

she would like to share," continued Angie with sincerity.

"Yes, Michelle," Lisa added with a devious grin, "a very pretty bouquet to

match your new, very feminine persona! Oh, you just look so cute, Michelle! I

already like you much more than that surly predecessor of yours, what was his

name, now? Oh yes, Mike. Anyway, I'm glad Mike is gone and Michelle is here.

Now, just to make you fit in with us girls a bit more, let's set this nice

vase on your desk." Lisa put a vase with a dozen red roses on my desk. "Now,

girl, it's break time. Come with us to the cafeteria!"

Knowing that Lisa's request was really a command, I had no choice but to

accompany them to the cafeteria. I got up and started to leave, when Angie

said, "Michelle, take your purse! My, you'll have a lot to learn, Michelle.

But we'll help you, so don't worry."

"Thank you, Angie," I replied as I placed the strap of my purse onto my

shoulder and followed the two young women to the cafeteria. I tried to smile

as we walked, but my quesiness made it difficult. I noticed now that people

were staring at me as I passed; no doubt, word of my transformation had spread

throughout the building already. After buying coffee and donuts, the three of

us sat at a corner table; I was able to sit with my back towards the

cafeteria, so that I wouldn't be watching others stare at me.

"How was your weekend, Angie," Lisa asked.

"Oh,it was OK. Always running here to there. With kids, you know, a mother

never has any peace!"

"I can imagine," Lisa said. "Heck, even single girls like Michelle and I have

an impossible time just keeping up with shopping and all, don't we, Michelle?"

"Oh, I suppose so," I replied.

"So, Michelle, tell us, have you always wanted to be a girl," asked Angie.

"I've read that some boys are like that, wear their sisters clothes and all,

but I never thought much about it, to be honest. I suppose it's been hard for

you to really be yourself all through your life."

"No, it's not so much that I want to be a girl," I replied, not knowing quite

how to rationalize my "change". I couldn't tell the truth, after all. "I just

think that since I've been the only male in our department, I've been treated

differently than the rest of you. Now that won't happen anymore. I'll be one

of the team."

"Oh come off it, Michelle. Your being the only male in our department worked

to your benefit. While I admit you make a good looking woman, there's no way

you're gonna get ahead around here by wearing short skirts. But that's OK,

Michelle. You don't have to tell us whether or not you wore your sister's

dresses or anything, though I don't see anything that terrible about it. But

tell us, are you going to be a girl from now on around here? I certainly hope

so!"

I glanced at Lisa; she was watching me closely. "Yes, I suppose so. From now

on I'll be just another girl around the office," I said to Angie.

Part 17

"Speaking of the office, our fifteen minutes is almost up. Let's go to the

little girl's room and freshen up a bit," Lisa said.

"OK. Come on, Michelle, I suppose you'll now be using the little girl's room

too, won't you? Come on with us, we'll show you how the other side pees,"

Angie said, laughing at her joke.

"Oh, no..., I don't know that I should...," I replied, caught off guard by

this dilemma that I hadn't recognized until now. I would eventually have to

use the restroom. But which one?? Deeply embarrassed by this new crisis, I

blushed as the girls taunted.

"What do you mean, Michelle? You can't go into the men's room dressed like

that, can you," asked Angie.

"No..., you know, I never thought about this before...., I don't know what to

do..." I said as I followed the girls.

"You don't know? Well, it's time we decide, cause we don't want you to wet

your panties, Michelle," Lisa scolded. "Come on, we'll work this out right

now." I followed her back to the payables department; Lisa quickly walked

around and gathered all the girls together. Only the department supervisor was

absent, as she had taken the morning off.

Once all of us were gathered together near Lisa's desk, she walked over to my

side and put her right arm around my shoulders. We stood there like that in

front of ten women, I dressed in a rose colored woman's suit with short

pleated skirt, high heels and white panty hose, Lisa wearing a simple blouse

(white with no lace, such that it could have been worn by any man without

raising any eyebrows), slacks and loafers.

"Girls," Lisa said in an authoritative voice, "most of you have met our new

girl, Michelle. Well, Michelle has a problem that she needs our help with. Go

ahead, Michelle, tell us what it is."

Lisa had put me on the spot, apparently keen to humiliate me. But I knew I had

to answer something. I blushed.

"Yes..., I have to know.., which, ah, restroom to use..." Once they knew what

was up, most of the women couldn't help but smile. Josie began to giggle

uncontrollably.

"Well, Michelle, that's one problem that the rest of us have never had," Susan

said in a joking manner.

"Which restroom do you want to use, Michelle," asked Debbie. "Wouldn't you

feel kinda strange with the men, looking like you do? You will sure get some

stares in there, especially when you touch up your makeup."

"Yes.., I know...., so I would like, I guess, to be able to use the, ah, the

little girl's room...., if you all don't mind, that is...," I replied.

"Well, what do you all think," Lisa asked. Little Michelle would like to

pee-pee with us girls. Would anybody here feel at all uncomfortable with her

using the little girls room?"

"Not me," said Susan, "but you know, Michelle, there's no urinal in the ladies

room. You'll have to squat now just like all girls do."

"Yes...., I understand that.." I said.

"And remember," Mary added with a laugh, "don't flush your tampons down the

toilet, cause we'll get blamed for it!"

"OK, then, if nobody objects, it's decided. Michelle, from now on you may use

the little girl's room. Congratulations," Lisa exclaimed as she leaned over

and gave me a little kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you, Lisa. Let me thank all of you. I don't think I could face the

other guys in the men's room looking like this," I said, sincerely glad that

they wouldn't force me into confrontation with the guys in this office.

Susan came up to me, grasped my hand in hers, and said, "Don't worry,

Michelle, you'll get used to being a girl. It's fun!" Several of the other

women also came up and touched me in a sisterly manner, apparently trying to

make me feel accepted. They all then went back to work, except Lisa and Angie,

who dragged me off to the ladies room.

Part 18

"Come on, Michelle, you're acting like a fraidy cat," said Angie when I

hesitated at the door to the Ladies room. "None of us are going to cut off

your thing just because you use the ladies room!"

"Hey, I don't think Michelle would mind it if someone did do that," Lisa said,

laughing.

But what if someone's in there? They might get mad at me," I said, afraid to

go in.

"Hey, girl, you're going to have to get used to it, or else," Lisa said. I

knew exactly what the "or else" was.

"Besides, Michelle, you can't have one of us guard the bathroom for you each

time you go pee-pee," Angie said. "Just act like a girl, and we'll treat you

like a girl. After all, that's what you want, isn't it?" Angie held the door

open while Lisa more or less shoved me through. Inside, the walls were pink,

there were many more stalls then the men's room had, and of course there were

no urinals. More mirrors, including a full length mirror, and much better

lighting. Luckily, no one was in there.

"Now go ahead, Michelle, use a stall and squat. Remember, you're a woman now,

so act like one. And after you finish you had better touch up your makeup a

bit," Angie said. She was apparently taking on the role of my "big sister"

and was enjoying it immensely, but at least she wasn't doing all this just to

make fun of me. Her heart was in the right place, I could tell.

"Yes, Michelle, I'll check you when you come out, and I want your lipstick to

be perfect. And powder your nose, too," Lisa said in the tone of an

authoritative mother talking to her daughter.

"Yes, I will, I promise," I said to them, then entered a stall at the far end.

It took me a while to lower all my garments enough to free what used to be my

manhood; I carefully raised my slip and short skirt, then squatted. I heard

the girls talking and laughing, and then they left the room. I was alone in

this all too foreign place!

Part 19

Quickly I did my business and then pulled my panty girdle and pantyhose up.

Once assured that everything was OK, I left the stall and was about to flee

when I recalled Lisa's veiled warning. Nervously I went to a mirror, set my

purse on the counter, opened it and removed my Covergirl makeup compact and my

tube of red lipstick, all the time wondering if all of this was worth it. But

least Lisa had kept her word so far; apparently nobody else had been told of

my stupid crime.

Surprised at how my lipstick had apparently rubbed off when I had eaten, I

carefully took the lipstick and started to apply it. Engaged as I was in this

task, I didn't hear the door until it closed. Startled, I looked over towards

the door, only to see Maria standing only about five feet from me, watching

me. My lipstick smudged as I involuntarily jerked it away from my face.

Maria was a CPA who worked in the Internal Audit Department. Although her

office was in the headquarters building, her job required her to make frequent

visits to our site. We had met shortly after I was hired, and had developed a

relationship of sorts over the past year. I had grown very fond of her, and I

think she felt likewise. We had dated on a number of occasions, and I had even

accompanied her to a couple of after-hour office socials, a retirement party

and the previous Christmas party. We had been intimate once, about a month

ago, an act which had scared both of us a bit, as we both tended to be afraid

of commitment. Afraid that she was angry with me for "taking advantage" of

her, I hadn't spoken to her over the past three weeks. While we had never

discussed marriage, the thought had crossed my mind, as I enjoyed her company

very much.

Physically, Maria was pretty in a normal, feminine way rather than a fashion

model way. Most beautiful were her dark eyes, long black hair that would

glisten in the sunlight, and her clear skin. She didn't dress up that much;

she purchased all her clothes at company stores (using employee discounts)

rather than using high dollar fashionable stores like Loretta's. Maria was

about five foot five; in my high heels, I now stood several inches taller than

her, such that she was looking upward, with a shocked expression, at me, her

friend and lover, standing there in the ladies room.

Several long moments passed before she spoke. "So it's true. Candy was telling

me, but it didn't make sense. I thought she was crazy. But it's true!"

"I'm sorry, Maria," I muttered. "It's not really what you're thinking."

"Not what I'm thinking! What do you mean, Mike," she said, her shock being

replaced by anger. "I see you there putting on lipstick, wearing a pink skirt

and high heels. I see you with female breasts! You tell me, Mike, what am I

suppose to be thinking?"

"Maria, please...., don't get upset."

"Upset? I'm confused, Mike, not just upset. Oh, I forgot: you're Michelle now!

So, tell me, MICHELLE, what am I supposed to think!"

"I feel the same for you, Maria. This doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't change anything? My boyfriend is wearing skirts to work now, and it

doesn't change anything? My boyfriend wants to be a girl, and it doesn't

change anything? My boyfriend is wearing high heels and pantyhose, but that

doesn't change anything? Really, Michelle, why didn't you tell me you were

like this? Maybe I would have borrowed you a dress to wear, or helped you shop

for your panties. But I would never have went to bed with you!"

"Please Maria, we can work through this."

"Sure, MICHELLE, sure we can. Maybe we can double date sometime. I'm sure the

men around here find your short skirt a real turn-on. Go ahead, finish with

your make-up, girl, pretty yourself up. Be a good little girl, cause you're

surely not a man, are you?"

"Please, Maria, just give me a chance."

"Do it, Michelle. Quit talking and fix up your makeup, right now!"

I knew I had to get back to work or I would be in even worse trouble. With

resignation, I turned back to the mirror. Using a piece of tissue I wiped the

lipstick smudge from my cheek, then I patted powder on my nose and cheeks.

Maria just stood there watching me in disbelief. When finished, I put my

makeup back into my purse, placed the strap over my shoulder, and started to

leave. I stopped and, with tears in my eyes, turned to Maria and again told

her I was sorry.

"Go back to work, young lady. I'll talk to you later," she said coldly. I

turned, exited the ladies room, and, with a very heavy heart, hurried back to

my desk.

Part 20

Time passed slowly. I tried to keep my mind on my work, with less than great

success. A mental image kept forming in my brain of me, the new me, smartly

clad in the latest fashions, standing there surrounded by the women in my

life. In a strange way I felt a bit of pride that at least I looked fairly

decent as a woman; I began to sense how real women come to so value their

beauty.

But I was still working. I had anticipated that by now I would have been

gently walked out the door, and would be on my way to start life anew,

somewhere far away. But so far, nothing! Maybe this was because my immediate

supervisor, Ellen, hadn't shown up at work yet.

Things were quiet until a few minutes before noon, when various people began

to come by to check me out. By now, everyone in the building knew of my

change.

First Candy came by, accompanied by two of her girlfriends, both of whom were,

like Candy, still teenagers, and both of whom were secretaries at other

departments.

"Hi, Mike, you know Liz and Sally, don't you," Candy said as they crowded into

my cubical. "We just wanted to come by and look you over. They simply didn't

believe me when I told them what a pretty girl you have become!"

"Thank you, Candy," I responded, blushing as I turned my chair to face the

girls. "Hi..., how are you all?"

"Oh! You really look gorgeous, Mike. Such sexy legs for a sissy boy," gushed

Liz.

"Thank you," I said, embarrassed by the attention and comments of these cute

teenage girls who stood looking down at me. Afraid my slip or panties might be

showing, I quickly crossed my legs in the feminine manner. "But please don't

call me Mike. Call me Michelle instead."

"Michelle! Such a pretty name for a pretty girl, don't you think, Candy," Liz

teased. "Say, we're on our way to lunch, Michelle. Won't you come with? We can

drive over to Chili's. There's always bunches of hunks there. Maybe we can

meet some!"

Blushing from the insinuation in Liz's remarks, I replied, "Oh,..., no

thanks,..., I'm not, ...ah... hungry." I really couldn't tell if these girls

were mocking me or just being friendly.

"Oh, OK, girl, we'll let you out of it this time. But you just must come with

us one day this week. We want to find out how you like being a woman, you

know, compared to what you were before. So, is it a date, Michelle," asked

Candy.

"OK, Candy, some time this week," I promised, just to end this ordeal.

No sooner had they left than two women approached, Jane and Sandy, both of

whom I barely knew, as neither were from my department.

"Hi, Michelle, we heard all about you and just had to come see for ourselves.

My, you make a good looking woman. Congratulations on your entry into the

fairer sex," Jane said, laughing in a mocking tone of voice.

"You're so cute I'll make it a point to keep my husband away from you, girl,"

added Sandy.

Two other groups of women followed, one after another, each mostly just

curious, but also poking a bit of fun in my direction, or so at least it

seemed to me. Then Angie called to me from the other side of the divider,

where her desk sat.

"Hey, Michelle, let's go out to get a bite to eat. You need break from all yor

admirers, don't you?"

"Yes, Angie," I said, almost in tears, "I sure do. I feel like everyone is

laughing at me."

"OK, let's get out of here. Grab your purse, girl!"

Part 21

Angie and I walked to McDonalds, which was only a couple of blocks away.

Although I was getting a bit more accustomed to walking in high heels, I had

difficulty keeping up with her. Angie was pretty, but not striking. Thirty

years old, she had married, had two children, and been divorced. I had heard

that her husband abused her physically, though she had never talked much about

him. Her clothes were nice, but not at all extravagant, mostly items bought at

Target or WalMart. With kids, and on her income, it was probably difficult to

make ends meet. But Angie never seemed to complain; in fact, she usually was

smiling.

Today Angie was wearing a maroon colored skirt, knee length, and a simple pink

blouse. Her auburn hair was cut in a page boy, and she seemed to wear only a

little makeup, usually just lipstick. Her sheer pantyhose showed off pretty

legs, and unlike me in my high heels, Angie wore plain penny loafers.

I walked along behind her, impressed by her simple beauty and soft, girlish

body. Strangely, I felt a bit of angst that I would never be able to exude

such a natural, graceful femininity. Did I envy Angie, I wondered; what was

happening to me?

A pickup truck slowed down as it passed; the passenger rolled down his window

and called out, "Hey girls! How bout ya'all come with us and party!" I noticed

that Angie just ignored the truck, didn't even look towards the men in it. I

followed her lead and did the same. The truck squealed off.

"Well, Michelle, that's one thing you'll have to get used to now. All men

treat us like dirt, it seems. But the best reaction to come-ons like that is

just to not react at all."

"Yea," I replied, embarrassed by my failure to react, "but I wanted to tell

them where to go, Angie. It's not right for them to do that to us."

"That's true, Michelle," Angie said, laughing, "but you're a girl now, and

girls don't shout obscenities, you know. And wouldn't you look funny trying to

duke it out with some guy dressed while wearing high heels! Just consider it

a compliment of sorts. I mean, those guys wanted us, sexually. We shouldn't be

too upset by that."

"Maybe," I groused, "but I sure don't want them sexually."

By this time we had reached the restaurant; Angie did the ordering for us,

which was fine for me as my voice was not very feminine. The place was packed

with workers and with mothers tending their children, but we were able to find

a table at the back. Once seated, an immense sense of relief swept through my

being; for the first time today I wasn't threatened by ridicule and worse.

Other than Angie, nobody here knew me nor cared to know me; nor was there any

indication that anyone thought I was other than the woman I appeared to be.

And Angie, I felt, accepted me, even seemed to like me, or at least my new,

feminine persona.

"So," Angie asked between bites, "are you planning to be Michelle from now

on?"

"Oh Angie, I just don't know. All this has happened so, well, unexpectedly. I

really hadn't planned to be Michelle at work. To be honest, I kinda expect to

be fired as soon as Ellen comes in."

"No, I doubt you'll get fired, Michelle, though it's possible. But you'll

never advance around here anymore. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they

demoted you to a clerical or receptionist position, just to show you how tough

real girls have it. But that's not really so bad, is it? At least you'll have

a job, and you'll be able to wear dresses and skirts and all."

"You know," Angie continued, "us girls may mostly be willing to accept you,

but the guys in the office, I don't know. I suspect they may not like the new

you. Luckily for you, there aren't too many guys that work in the office."

"Sure, your chances of getting ahead may be zero, but as a girl, you won't

experience the pressure to get ahead that Mike probably felt. In fact, I bet

that's one of the reasons you chose to be Michelle, isn't it?"

"Maybe, Angie," I sighed, "but today the pressure has really been unbearable.

I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me today. Just accepting me.

I know Mike mostly ignored you. I guess he was a real jerk, ha?"

"Oh, I don't know. Mike was kinda handsome, even if he was a little too small

for some of us. Most of the girls thought he was maybe a bit too macho, if

you know what I mean. But now, look at you. Michelle is pretty, and much

nicer than Mike ever was," she kidded. "So tell me, is Michelle planning on

making it official anytime soon?"

"What do you mean," I asked innocently.

"You know, surgery. Cut off that thing between your legs. Get real breasts.

That stuff?"

I involuntarily grimaced at the thought. "No, no, I haven't really thought

about that, Angie."

"Well, in a way it would be a shame for you to lose your family jewels, but

your panties will fit you a lot better afterwards," she laughed.

"Yea," I said, smiling for the first time all day, "wearing tight panties all

day does get a bit uncomfortable."

We continued chatting through lunch. Before leaving, Angie wisely suggested I

use the ladies room so that I would be able to avoid the one at the office for

a bit longer. Without a smirk or snide comment, Angie accompanied me into the

restroom and even assisted me a bit with my makeup.

"Angie," I said as we were walking back, "I really enjoyed your company. I

hope we can be friends from now on."

"Sure, Michelle, you can be my girlfriend," she replied happily. Yes, I

thought to myself with disappointment, I'm now just a girlfriend. Neither

Angie, nor any woman, would consider me a man anymore. How could I expect them

to? I looked down at my high heels and, for a second, a feeling of revulsion

coursed through my being.

Sensing something was troubling me, Angie continued, "Michelle, if you don't

mind my prying, do you have someone special, you know, like a boyfriend?"

"No, Angie. I've never been with a man."

"Is that why you seem so down? I tell you, Michelle, you're not missing much.

My ex-husband, Bill, he was really good looking and all. Tall and muscular,

with a big hairy chest. Not at all like Mike, I bet. And yes, he swept me

off my feet. I mean, I fell so madly in love with him that my heart shattered

when he left. He had no reason to go. Just got tired of being married. So

believe me, Michelle, these macho types are not so great over the long run. If

you never fall in love, you'll be lucky. But you are cute, so some guy surely

use you, just wait and see. But at least if you get taken advantage of like I

did, you probably won't end up being a mother of two kids. Heck, If you do,

your picture will be on the cover of the National Enquirer," she exclaimed

with a laugh.

"Yes," I laughed, "wouldn't that be something. I can just picture me walking

around, nine months pregnant. Why, I could get on all the talk shows!"

As I followed her into the building and back to our department, I

realized how Angie had a way of making life seem pleasant, even for a guy

walking around in high heels and pantyhose.

Part 22

I had just gotten back to work when Jill, our secretary, came over. She was a

young, skinny girl with long red hair and a few freckles. She couldn't help

but grin as she looked at me sitting there, my legs crossed like a girl, with

the bouquet of roses on my desk.

"Ah, Mike...., or Michelle...., I just don't know what to call you, it

seems," she said nervously, "Ellen would like to see you in her office."

I could almost feel my stomach drop. So this was it. Either I would be fired

for coming to work in inappropriate dress, or perhaps Lisa had told Ellen of

my travel voucher fraud, in which case I would be hauled off to jail wearing

high heels. I felt cold and clammy, and just sat silently.

After a few moments Jill walked to where I sat and put her hand on my

shoulder. "Don't worry, Michelle," she said in sympathetic tone of voice,

"I'm sure everything will be OK."

"It's OK, Jill...," I replied, "please tell Ellen I'll be there in a second. I

just need to get a drink of water first."

"Sure thing," Jill said. "And by the way, Michelle, I really like your

earrings. They look so cute!"

"Hey, girl, don't look so down," I heard Angie say after Jill left. She

peeked around the divider that separated her desk from mine. "I'm sure

everything will be fine. Just don't cry in front of them. Managers hate it

when women cry at work!"

"Thanks, Angie. I'll try not to. Though I kinda feel like crying right now."

Part 23

Like all the managers in the building, Ellen had a private office. Jill was

there to usher me in, after which she excused herself and, upon leaving,

closed the door. When the door closed, thinks got serious, or so the office

joke went.

Ellen was a tall, slender woman, still young at about 40, and still quite

pretty. Her hair was cut straight and mid-length, and she was always very well

dressed. I doubt she ever used her employees discount, at least not for her

clothes, preferring instead to shop at more expensive stores.

"Have a seat, Mike," she said, motioning me to a chair across the desk from

her. Carefully I straightened my skirt before sitting, just as Amanda had

taught me to do yesterday. Although Ellen's legs and lower body were hidden

from my view by her desk, I had to sit out in the open, fully exposed to

Ellen's view. Meekly I crossed my legs in the feminine manner, embarrassed as

she scrutinized my entire body: hair, makeup, outfit, legs, and heels. This

wasn't fair, I thought, having to sit in the open like an object on display.

"That's a cute skirt, Mike. Pleated skirts look good on women with firm, thin

legs," Ellen said.

"Why, thank you," I replied warily.

"Well, Mike, to be honest, I was very, very surprised when I arrived here this

morning. Candy at the front desk told me about your, ah, is change the proper

word? Anyway, I never expected this of you."

"I realize it's too late now, Mike, but you should have told me about this

long ago. Maybe we could have eased into this transition of yours. You could

have started off with, say, just a bit of mascara, then worked into pantyhose,

flats, and nicely tailored womens slacks. I think you wouldn't have drawn so

much attention that way."

"I suppose you're right," I said.

"You know, Mike, you were in line for a management position here. It was

almost preordained. But now, I don't see that in your future at all. You've

traded a lot just to be able to wear dresses."

"Yes, Ellen, I realize that. But it had to happen. It just had to."

"So, Mike, I'm curious. Why? Do you think women have it easier than guys

around here? Are you getting a sex change? Are you just trying to attract

men? What is it?"

"It's nothing complicated, Ellen. I just feel this role fits me better. I'm

simply more comfortable as a woman," I said, trying to rationalize the

situation. I felt a bit more at ease now; true, I was under pressure and maybe

about to get fired, but at least it was obvious that Lisa hadn't snitched on

me. "And besides, our entire department is female. I was the only exception.

There was always a wall between Mike and his co-workers. But maybe Michelle

will get along better with her co-workers. Maybe, as Michelle becomes accepted

by the others, friction in the department will decrease. I know some of the

others resented Mike as a fair haired boy who would be given positions he

didn't deserve, simply because he was male in a predominantly female

department. With Michelle, nobody will harbor such thoughts. I really believe

Michelle's presence will not harm productivity in our department. It could

actually boost productivity."

"So," Ellen said after a moment of contemplation, "let me get this straight.

Mike now wants to be Michelle. From now on Mike will wear dresses, skirts, and

high heels to work, as well as, I imagine, panties and bras. And as a result,

our department will produce more than ever?"

"Well, yes, maybe so," I replied, flushed.

"In that case, maybe all the men here should shave their legs and apply

makeup, just like you. Just think how productive a company we would have

then," she said sarcastically.

"OK, Mike..., or Michelle, here is what we'll do. Management prefers to

project a tolerant image. In particular, since most of our customers are

women, we must be very considerate of women's concerns. Maybe that extends to

transsexuals like you. In any case, Bob, the chief of this division, checked

with Personnel and they don't see that your dress is an automatic reason for

dismissal. So you'll get to stay, with conditions: you must always be dressed

as a woman from now on. No exceptions. We do not need the confusion of an

employee whose sex changes from day to day. Also, Mike, you've always been

excused from various duties just because of your sex. Things like making

coffee, cleaning the snack room, toy drives, and secretarial backup. That

won't happen anymore. You want to look like a woman, so you'll have to work

like one. And since you've been off secretarial backup for so long, you will

be at the top of the list for a while. So, next week when Jill is on her

vacation, you'll be taking her place. Usually Lisa or Mary fills in for Jill,

but now you will. For the entire week you'll be my secretary. And of course,

when other secretaries take time off, their managers may also like to use you

as their temporary secretary. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the women

managers in the building might like to use you for secretary duties, if only

for the novelty of having a..., whatever you are.., around. But if any ask

for you, you'll do it: secretarial backup is part of your job description from

now on. You can get with Jill tomorrow and she'll show you the ropes. Do you

agree to all this?"

"Yes, Ellen, I'll do my best," I replied.

"I'm sure you will, Michelle," Ellen said with a sly grin.

"Now, Mike, there's one more problem. One I've never faced before in my life,

to be sure. I have to decide which restroom my employee may use. This is not

really the kind of problem I like to face, particularly on a Monday morning,

Mike."

"Yes, ma'am, I understand," I said sheepishly. Ellen seemed to enjoy calling

me by my male name just to humiliate me.

"Well, Mike, which restroom would you prefer to use?"

"I glanced at the floor as I answered, not willing to look her in the eye,

"the ladies room would be best, ma'am, considering how I'm dressed."

"The ladies room. So, Mike wants to use the Little Girl's Room from now on.

Gee, Mike, this is all just too much. But I've discussed it with Bill. Seems

the men in the building strongly prefer to not see you in their bathroom

anymore. I suppose they think that having you in there straightening your

skirt would be a bit awkward. Myself, Michelle, I don't really care. If you

need to be treated like a girl, then by all means, come pee with us. But...,

I don't know that other women in the building feel the same. And they have

rights, do they not?"

"Of course..., I don't want to upset anyone," I said.

"Well, Jill and I drew up a memorandum. We'll distribute to all females in the

building. If we get just a few objections, we'll try to arrange it for you to

use only the ladies room in the back, and those women with objections can use

the front restroom with total assurance that you won't be in there. However,

if we receive more than a few objections, then the only options are to let you

go, or have you use the small toilet down in the maintenance room. I'm sure

you won't like either of those options, so let's hope no women object to you.

"Here's the memo we drafted; please read it over and sign it." Ellen handed a

single piece of paper to me; I had to rise from my chair to take it from her.

I blushed as I read it:

Memorandum

TO: All Female Employees at North Satellite Office.

Subject: Restroom Accommodations

Hello. My name is Mike Jackson. I've worked in the Payables

Department for the past three years. Because I have not been

comfortable as a man, I have recently begun to dress and act as a

woman. I have chosen the name Michelle to replace my former

name.

I intend to continue living as a woman from this time on, both at

and away from work, for the rest of my life. However, I

unfortunately do remain an anatomical male, at least for the time

being. Perhaps, though, at a later date I will be able to

complete my journey into the fairer sex.

In the meantime I face a dilemma here at the office. While I

would greatly prefer to use the ladies restrooms, rather than the

mens restrooms, I understand that some of you may object to that.

Therefore, I am asking any woman who prefers that I not use the

ladies room to please voice your objections to either your direct

manager, or, off the record, to Jill, secretary of the Paybles

Department. Only if all of your concerns are satisfactorily

addressed will I venture into your restrooms.

Please understand that if I am allowed to use your restrooms, I

will be fully discreet. Never will I reveal my unwanted male

characteristic outside of a stall.

I plead for your empathy and compassion in this matter. It is

with the greatest joy that I have embarked onto a new and better

life, as a woman!

Sincerely,

Michelle Jackson

I read the memo once and then, stunned, read it over again. All of this had

gotten so out of hand! Everything seemed so irrevocable, so permanent. Now I

would be forced to be female away from work too? And what would the others

think of me as they read this memo? I could just imagine that copies of this

memorandum would soon be circulating in each of the company's offices and

stores. Employees nationwide would laugh and make disparaging comments about

my "dilemma".

"But," I stuttered, "this seems so, ah, descriptive. Maybe we could make it

simple and short. Just poll a simple yes or no. Is it really necessary to

have all this, ah, detail...."

"Now wait one moment, Michelle," Ellen said, apparently upset. "Jill and I

worked hard to produce an honest memo describing your problem. Remember, you

are wearing a short skirt and high heels, so I assume you must want to be a

woman very badly."

"Yes, that's true, but, well," I said, staring at the memo, "maybe we could

delete the section about my "male characteristic."

"Well, young lady," Ellen said sarcastically, "I realize that what "male

characteristic" you have is probably laughably small, but nonetheless it is

there hiding somewhere beneath your pretty panties. Now enough of this. Sign

the memo so that we may distribute it this afternoon. That way, by tomorrow

you should know where you can pee."

"Yes ma'am," I replied. I took a pen and carefully signed the memorandum,

following Ellen's advice, as "Ms. Michelle Jackson", after which Jill was

summoned into the office.

"Jill, Michelle wanted to personally thank you for your help with writing her

memorandum," Ellen said.

"Yes, Jill," I replied softly, "thanks for helping. You did a good job."

"A very good job, Jill," Ellen added. "Now, I want you two young ladies to go

to the copy machine and make 125 copies. I think that should be enough for

every woman in the building. And then, Michelle, you will personally

distribute your memo to all the departments. Just ask the secretary of each

department for a head count of the women working there, and leave that number

of copies. And by the way, Michelle, be very nice. Smile a lot. Remember, it's

to your advantage to win over the women in this building. You want them to

accept you, and the best way to do that is to act like a woman in every facet

of your life. And Jill, while Michelle is delivering her memorandums, would

you please get the paperwork in order to officially change Mike's work name to

Michelle. Once that's done, Mike, I promise to always treat you as the girl

you are!"

"Thank you, ma'am," I said before following Jill out of the office.

Part 24

"I'm glad you didn't get fired, Michelle," Jill said while helping me make the

necessary photocopies. "You know, Ellen can be tough at times. When she first

came in today, and heard about your change, she was furious. I think she took

it as a personal affront that you didn't clear it with her."

"Maybe it would have been better if I were fired, Jill. I'm sure everybody is

laughing at me."

"Oh, no, Michelle, it's not just that we're all laughing at you. It's more

than that. Thinking of how you used to be, and how you are now, it's just all

kinda threatening to the females around here. The situation, I mean, not you.

It's like when we see you we all just feel, oh, maybe a bit afraid. Not afraid

of you, Michelle, but afraid that maybe other men could make the same change.

Maybe our own special men. I mean, to me, the thought of me seeing my

boyfriend in high heels and a dress, like you, well, it's kinda terrifying. So

when we see you we worry a bit, and by laughing we relieve that worry. Do you

understand?"

"Yes, Jill," I replied sadly. "So would it really be that bad if your

boyfriend liked to dress up occasionally, in lingerie, maybe in an outfit like

mine," I asked, wondering if, as I was now dressed, I was really such a

sexual turnoff to women.

"Oh, God! You've got to be kidding! That would be totally gross! I mean,

you're not gross, but then, you're not any girl's boyfriend. You ARE a girl,

at least sort of, so it's OK if you wear pantyhose. But not my man! If I ever

saw him even looking at my panties I'd leave him. Unless, of course, I was

wearing the panties at the time," she said, giggling.

Jill didn't know she had hurt my feelings. So, I realized with sorrow, now no

woman would ever again look at me with desire. Was keeping my career and

freedom really worth this, I wondered.

"I mean, Michelle, you know how it's so fun when you get all dressed up for

your boyfriend. Put on a nice slinky short dress and sexy high heels. Surely

you must dress up like that when you date, don't you? Well, how would you like

to get all dressed to the nines, and then go to your boyfriend's place and

find him wearing a skirt, too? I mean, that would really be a downer," Angie

continued as if she were talking with just another girl, rather than to a

girl-boy.

"Yes, Jill, I suppose you're right," I said.

After we had finished making the copies Jill handed the stack to me. "Now you

get to pass out your memorandums to all the women here. I'm sure you'll be

surprised how well we accept you as a girl. I know all my friends will. In

fact, we were talking about you during lunch, and we all agreed we would enjoy

having you in the little girl's room. Most of the girls want to help you with

your makeup, advise you on clothes, that type of stuff. Things all girls learn

early, but that you may need a little help with."

"Yes, Jill," I replied as I left with the memos, "there's much that I'll have

to learn about being a woman."

Filled with trepidation, I left the relative security of the Payables

Department, where I had hoped to more or less hide until Lisa relented on my

sentence.

Part 25

Dreading the task at hand, I considered just walking out the door. The only

thing that stopped me was the knowledge that the company would surely have me

arrested when Lisa presented the evidence against me. After today, I had no

supporters around here; nobody would have any qualms about filing charges.

And besides, I was already the joke throughout the office; would this memo

make it much worse? Probably not.

Jill had listed the departments I would have to visit: nine departments, plus

the the Division Manager's office. She had also listed the name of the

secretary for each department. First on the list was the lease department.

Seeing me approach, Jeri, the secretary, got up from her chair and rushed over

to me.

"Michelle! Hi! Jill told me all about you. Oh, you look so pretty," she

exclaimed as she leaned over and gave me a girlish kiss on my cheek, "prettier

than a lot of real girls I know. I know you're gonna like being a woman.

Believe me, it's much more fun than being a man, no doubt about it. And say,

anytime you need help with anything, come ask. We've got a lot of women in

this department who can answer most any question you might have about being a

female."

I couldn't help but blush with embarrassment. Jeri spoke loudly enough that

everyone around was now staring at me. Sheepishly I handed Jerry 15 copies of

the memorandum and asked her to distribute one to each woman in the

department.

"Sure thing," Jeri said as she read the memorandum. As I was leaving she

added, "And, Michelle, you've got my vote. I mean like, where does management

expect you to freshen up? Like wow, you sure can't go into the mens room

wearing a dress, can you?"

Most every department I went to was the same. At each, the young secretaries

would look me over, comment on my shoes, or outfit, or earrings, or makeup,

and say how pretty I looked. I had heard that so much that I almost

believed it, though in my heart I knew everyone was just saying it out of

politeness, pity, or both. The last department on my list was the overaged

receivables department, which was basically a collection agency. The

secretary here was Dorothy. Unlike the other secretaries I had visited,

Dorothy was neither young nor pretty. She must have been about 50,

considerably overweight, and had a face wrinkled from far too much tobacco

use. Her voice sounded like a man's, probably as a result of years of heavy

smoking. She sat at her desk reading a newspaper, not even looking up. I

stood in front of her desk in silence for at least a minute, until it became

clear this woman would ignore me until I spoke.

"Hi, Dorothy," I said in as cheerful a manner as I could, "would you please

distribute copies of this memorandum to the ladies in your department?"

"Maybe," she replied gruffly as she took copies of the memo from me. It took

her a couple of minutes to read the memo.

"What's this all about," she asked me, looking at me suspiciously. "Who's this

Michelle person, anyway?"

"I'm Michelle," I replied. She stared at me. It seemed to upset her that some

guy wearing a skirt looked so much better than she did.

"So, you're a guy who wants to use the ladies room? Are you crazy? What's the

matter with you, anyway, going around looking like a young girl?"

"I'm sorry, Dorothy, but the memo explains it all. Would you please give a

copy to everyone?"

"I dunno. I don't like this. Maybe you better talk to my manager. But she's in

a meeting. You'll have to come back..."

Just then the door to the her manager's office opened and out came Janet,

manager of that department, followed by Maria. I was stunned and ashamed to be

there in front of Maria. Unable to look into her eyes, I instead looked down

at the floor.

"What's up," asked Janet, a dark haired middle-aged woman, slightly

overweight, but with a reputation in the building as being maybe the nicest

manager around.

"This a.., person..., wants me to hand out this memo to everone. Is that OK

with you," asked the surly secretary.

"I don't know," she replied cheerfully, "what's the memo about?" She walked up

to me and said, "Hi, I'm Janet. I don't believe we've met?"

"Hi Janet," I replied nervously as Maria took one of the memos and began

reading it, "I'm Michelle. I'm from Payables. I was hoping you could pass this

memo around to your group." I tried as best I could to maintain a professional

bearing, but felt flushed; certainly I was blushing noticeably. Janet took one

of the memos, read it, looked at me again, then read it again. I noticed that

she also blushed, apparently embarrassed by what she read or saw. I glanced

towards Maria; she just stood there, holding a copy of the memo, staring at me

in apparent disbelief.

"Well, ah, Michelle...., yes....,ah, I guess I don't know what to say....

This is a different type of memo than I usually see," she said, breaking into

a large grin, "quite a bit different. But don't worry, I'll have Dorothy pass

the memorandum around. Oh, and by the way, just speaking for myself, I don't

have any problem with you using the ladies room, if that's what you

really want. What do you think, Maria?"

"No, I don't mind if SHE uses the ladies room," Maria said icily. "Dressed

like that, it might be dangerous for Michelle to use the mens room. We don't

need Michelle getting sexually harassed by the guys in the office, do we?"

"Good point, Maria," Janet said, clearly unaware that Maria and I knew each

other well. "My god, Michelle, you are a very nice looking young lady! I guess

you made a good choice when you decided to change your sex."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said as I turned and walked away. I could hear my high

heels clicking on the tile floor. Without a doubt, I realized, Maria had now

lost all respect for me.

Part 26

When finally I returned to my department, Jill asked that I distribute the

memo to each woman in the unit. So it was that as closing time neared I was

going through the department personally distributing copies of a memorandum

which, in a very transparent manner, served only to belittle my masculinity.

In the break area I found my three persecutors, the women responsible for my

emasculation.

"Look at this," Lisa exclaimed as I approached, "it's the new girl! So tell

us, Michelle, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm doing OK, all considered," I replied with a bit of anger in my

voice. "I've got a memo to give you all."

After they read the memo they all began to laugh. "Really, Mike," Josie said,

"I never expected this of you. And you had to give every women at work a copy

of this! Wow! You know, everybody will be laughing at you!"

"Sorry about your "unwanted male characteristic", Mike. Don't you wish you had

a nice girl "characteristic" instead," Lisa said, enjoying all this greatly.

None of the others in my department were so cruel; for the most part they

seemed to truly sympathize with me. Most of the comments I received were

supporting.

By the time I finished distributing the memo the day was over. I slowly

cleared my desk, purposely leaving a little late to avoid unnecessary contact.

Angie, who was also running late, walked with me to my car. I was immensely

relieved that the day, by far the most stressful and eventful one of my life,

was at last winding down.

"Say, Michelle, I read that memo. Did you actually write that," asked Angie as

we walked through the nearly deserted office.

"No, Angie, I didn't. It was Ellen and Jill's doing. Ellen basically told me

to sign it or else. Jill didn't intend to be mean or hurtful. She was just

trying to help me out. But Ellen, she only wanted to humiliate me with that

damn memo, and she did."

"Well," Angie said, weighing her words carefully, "the memo wasn't really

that bad. But I bet you were a bit embarrassed having to hand it out to

everyone. It definitely severs all your ties to Mike. Looks like from now on

you're Michelle, like it or not."

"Yea, Angie, I guess so. From now on I'm Michelle. Mike the man is dead;

Michelle the woman has taken his place. I'll have to accept it, won't I," I

mused.

"Believe me, it'll be for the best. Before you know it you'll be just like the

rest of us, worrying about what dress to wear, complaining when your pantyhose

runs, maybe even hoping for Mister True Love. So. Michelle, are you gonna be

OK tonight," Angie asked with concern.

"Yea, Angie, I will. The worst of it is over, isn't it? I mean, after today,

tomorrow will be a breeze. Now I just want to go home, take off these high

heels and tight panties, and relax! How about you? Got any plans?"

"No, just pick up the kids, feed em, get them to do their homework, that type

of stuff. Hey, maybe you'd like to come by some evening this week and have

dinner with us."

"Oh, I don't know. Your son might not take to a guy in high heels. I wouldn't

be much of a role model, would I," I said with some bitterness.

"Hey, Michelle! Come back to planet earth, girl! Are you forgetting

something? You aren't a guy in high heels, you're a woman, plain and simple.

Just forget that other life of yours. It's over. You obviously didn't like it

much at all, or you wouldn't be wearing that nice outfit now, would you? So

just rejoice in your new identity. And don't worry, my son and my daughter

will know you only as Michelle. So what do you say, is it a deal?"

"Well, it would be fun Angie. I could help you with the cooking or something.

But what should I wear?"

"Gosh, Michelle, you do sound just like a girl! Always worrying about what to

wear. Just put on something cute and comfortable. Tell you what: you can make

a salad and the potatoes, and together we'll barbecue hamburgers. I'll make

the dessert. How about Wednesday at six?"

"Sure, Angie. And thanks," I said.

"It's OK. I know this has all been kinda tough for you. While I realize you

want to be a girl, you probably could do without the embarrassment of

changing from a man into a girl. Tell me, do you still think it worth the

trouble?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "To be honest, I was an emotional

wreck this morning. But now, well, I feel kind of at peace, almost happy in a

way. Instead of being embarrassed by wearing these women's clothes, I now feel

very comfortable in them. Not physically, but spiritually. Maybe I will be

happier as a woman. Really, Angie, I'll have to sort all this out in my mind.

But I must say, you've helped me today more than you would believe, just by

treating me as a person."

"Not just as a person, Michelle, but as a woman," Angie said seriously.

When we reached her car, Angie took my hand for a second and squeezed it

softly. "Have a nice evening, young lady," Angie said as she leaned towards me

and kissed my cheek. I waved to her as she drove off.

A light rain began to fall as I drove home. I stopped at the supermarket and

bought some lettuce, tomatoes, and avocados, thinking that I would have to

start dieting in order to keep a good figure. Nobody took a second look at me.

To everyone there I was just another woman doing her grocery shopping.

The store was crowded with women, most wearing office attire, who had stopped

by to purchase items for their family's dinner. I felt a bit of envy towards

them, as they all had families and loved ones, husbands and kids. They all fit

in. I, on the other hand, was a misfit. I realized, for the first time in my

life, that I had never really fit in. As a man I had always been alone. But

now, as a woman, maybe this all would change; and even if it didn't, I still

felt oddly comfortable as a woman, as if I had for the first time found true

peace. My soul was content; maybe God somehow meant for all this to happen.

I stood in the checkout line at the busy supermarket. In front of me were

three young ladies, all nicely dressed and pretty. Each wore a skirt; so did

I. Each wore pantyhose which showed her smooth, attractive legs; so did I.

Each wore high heels, as did I. The woman checking out set her purse down and

removed her checkbook to pay for her purchases; soon it would be my turn and

I, too, would perform the same ritual, as I, too, now carried a purse. With an

inner joy I realized how very much alike we were, these women and I.

Yes, I envied these women, but I also felt proud of myself, proud to be

accepted as a female, proud to be almost one of them. Proud, in fact, to be

wearing my high heels with my pretty, rose colored outfit with the short

skirt.