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Public Relations by Diana Kimberly Heche I shut off the overhead projector and the crowd of 300 applauded. I sighed with relief, that went better than I could have expected. I gathered the material from the podium and took a deep breath, after all I had been through, the speech itself was easy part. I smoothed down my skirt and left the stage. Dan Waterman, my boss, and his assistant Kirsten McDonald were waiting for me. "Bravo" Kirsten said, giving me a hug, "Bravo. And you look fantastic. Very professional." I thanked her. She was assuaging my fears from this morning. I had been a little worried that my heels were a bit too high, my cleavage a bit too exposed, and my skirt a bit too short for a truly professional wardrobe. But Kirsten had assured me that the eye catching professional look was appropriate for something like this. Dan Waterman was eyeing me strangely. "Kirsten, could you wait for me in the hall?" Waterman asked. "Of course sir," she replied. Kirsten shot me a look that I couldn't quite discern. Waterman put his hand on the small of my back and guided me to walk with him as he was talking. His hand slowly slid down my skirt across my ass. I wasn't sure what he was up to, but I was sure his touching me was a mistake. We reached the corner of the backstage next to the exit stairs. He turned to face me. He was standing very close. "Do you know how much money Kirsten makes?" "No sir," I replied. "She makes a lot." he informed me, "Perhaps twice what you are making, if you can believe that since you don't come cheap ... especially after we ... altered your dress code." he laughed and continued, "But she is worth it, every penny. However, she is becoming overwhelmed as my ... and I hate to use this egotistical sounding term, but it fits ... empire continues to grow. She could use some help. After watching you on the podium tonight and watching how well you've handled your job, I want promote you so you and Kirsten can both hold that position. Of course I would have to give her another raise and better title to let her know that this isn't a negative reflection on her work, but for you that would be a doubling of your salary." Why was he telling me this? I've never had an employer discuss other employees' wages. Here he was offering me the most intriguing job of my life, one that I have waited my entire life for, yet I could barely concentrate. Waterman now stood a mere inches from my face. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. He placed his hand on my stockinged leg right below my hem line and swept it up underneath my skirt, rubbing my pantyhosed clad ass with his hand. He was now pressed against me. I could feel his large hard on pushing against my body. He moved his lips millimeters from mine and his hand now squeezed my ass with urgency. With his other hand he took mine and placed it on his hard penis. Despite myself, I squeezed. He desired me badly. This was too unreal. This couldn't be happening. Cupping my smaller hand in his he gripped the zipper of his pants and zipped it down. "I know it would be considered unethical to some to offer you the best job of your life at the same time that I expressed to you how much I want you ..." He was making the bargain clear. "But you wouldn't think that I was being unethical would you?" He pushed my hand into his open fly. Again I found myself with my hand around his penis. "You can't want me ... I whispered ... I'm a man ... I'm straight, you're straight ..." "I know what I am." he said soothingly, " I don't need you to tell me. But I don't care what you are. You're beautiful as beautiful as any woman I've seen. Anyone who looks, sound and moves that much like a woman ... is one to me ... and I need to have that woman now. He pressed his lips against mine and forced his tongue into my mouth. His hands pawed greedily at my body. Time froze as I weighed my options; thought about the past thought about the present ... how I ended up in this situation in the first place. I thought about life as it would be with the kind of wealth and opportunity he was offering me. In that blink of an eye, I sold my soul. I motioned him downward to the descending stairwell next to the emergency exit. I sat him on one of the bottom stairs and pulled his rock hard penis out of his pants. I had never done this before, but I had planned to do it right. I slid his cock into my mouth pressing my lips against his shaft firmly and I moved my mouth up and down slowly. I ran my hand underneath his shirt and squeezed his nipples. As my head bobbed up and down I took his shaft in my hand and beat him off in rhythm to my sucking. A moan of pleasure escaped his lips. I was doing this well. I pushed my mouth all the way to the base of his dick, his hips lifted off the stair and he grunted as he shot his load into my mouth. I pushed him back on the stair. I continued working his penis between my lips until he was stiff again. I looked in my purse and notice I didn't have what I needed. I took out a tube of chapstick and rolled it completely out of it's shell, I then smashed it in my hands and rubbed it all over his cock until it glisten with a lubed sheen. I stood up and turned my back towards him. I slid my foot out of my shoe and rubbed his hard slick cock with my stocking foot. I then leisurely slid my pantyhose halfway down my ass as I shook my butt from side to side slowly, sensuously. I took my finger, still slick from the mashed chapstick, and slid it in and out of my ass hole slowly. I locked my gaze on his as he watched my finger move in and out, knowing soon that finger would be replaced by his hard cock. Watching me he grew even harder. I was ready. I bent all the way over, reaching down and grabbed my high patent leather heels causing my already short skirt to ride up. "Come fuck me Dan Waterman. Come feel my hole squeeze you" I purred. He stood up and slid his dick into my ass all the way. It was painful. Dan had a large thick cock and it was all I could do not to scream. I bit my lip. He plunged in deeply and began pumping away hard. His hands squeezed my hips as tightly as he could, he grunted with each slam of my ass. My hole stung with pain. Pumping at a furious pace he groaned masterfully and for the second time shot waves of sperm into my hole. He pulled up his pants and fixed his shirt. I slowly slid my hose back over my ass, and smooth my skirt down. I walked over and pressed against him, giving him a long wet kiss. He responded in kind. Smiling at me he said one word "Hired," I thanked him, "Listen, I need to check my make up and get some things together, plus I have to run errands this afternoon, so I'll be skipping that lunch if that's alright." He nodded his approval. I continued, "I might ll catch up to you and Kirsten later ... lover." I wasn't sure where it came from, but I was able to act the part just the way he wanted it. He smiled again and brushed my cheek. "You were all that I imagined and more," he told me. I matched his smile. Dan Waterman walked up the stairs and disappeared from my sight. As soon as he was gone I slid down the wall and sat in a heap on the floor, crying. I never cried, men don't cry. But I wasn't much of a man anymore was I? I began to sob uncontrollably. I felt so violated. So dirty. I was very, very tired. Pretending to be the sexy vixen Waterman wanted took all of my energy. I wept more as I realized I had sold myself, my soul, my gender ... for what ....a job? How did this happen? I curled up and waited for a full hour before I decided it was safe to leave. I didn't feel I could face anyone now and just wanted to get back home. I pushed open the emergency exit and strolled into the afternoon sun. I hadn't checked myself, but I suspected I was looking less than pristine. I just wanted to hurry back to my apartment. ***** I, like everyone who worked for Dan Waterman, lived on the "Grounds", a series of buildings and living quarters surrounding his mansion. The Grounds were easily the size of a small town. Unlike the thousands of employees who worked for Waterman's various companies, he called those of us who worked for him directly his family and claimed he liked to be surrounded by his family. Most of those who worked for him on the Grounds viewed his motives much more cynically. The "Grounds" were often referred to as the "Compound" or the "Prison Camp" by the employees who viewed them as a means of control. What seemed to confirm this idea was most who had actual extensive contact with Waterman were on twenty-four call, undoubtedly a technique to govern our comings and goings - control what we said about him, control what we heard about him. And although there was no way to be certain, it was common wisdom that our phone lines were monitored. There has never been a question in my mind much of what Dan Waterman did was about control. I have known that for some time. I am certain his sexual conquest of me this morning was as much about power as it was desire. He had already taken a man and made him, for all practical purposes, look and act like a woman. But that was not enough. It was the ultimate control to have me willingly succumb to his sexual wishes. And I did it, like everyone who worked around here, because of the large sums money he paid us all. He controlled us through our greed and our environment. Waterman was no different than a cult leader; he understood the importance of manipulating people and the environment. And like many cult leaders he was charismatic and powerful. There were very few people in the civilized world who did not know his name, very few who would not do a great deal to bask in his reflected glory. Isolated, charmed by his vast allure, lead by our own greed, we slowly accepted what would be to the outside world unacceptable. He was our cult leader: there was very little doubt that he regularly slept with the wives and daughters of many of the employees, rumor had it sometimes at once. Many of the husbands rubbed their pay checks and pretended not to know. As I looked down at the shards of light reflecting off of my high patent leather heels and my stocking clad legs in my too short skirt, I knew the power of the cult of Waterman better than most. From the auditorium it was a short half a mile walk to my apartment. Although I was able to navigate quite well in my four and a half inch heels, I had never tried walking quite this distance. I looked down at my feet and wished I had worn something lower. The thought made me smile a smile devoid of humor. Several months ago, I would have been wishing for my male tennis shoes, or hiking boots, not a more comfortable version of a woman's heel. Again I wondered to myself at what point I became lost. My apartment was located in a small complex that housed just Mr. Waterman's personal staff. The majority of the employees were located in a massive complex known as "The Hill" because of its hillside location. I walked down the long hallway and bumped into Ramon, Mr. Waterman's personal trainer. He stopped me and looked me over. "You look like you've had a hard day so far Martin," I put my fingers up to my lips urgently, even though no one could hear us, I did not use my former name ever. "Marianne. It's Marianne. Ramon, you know that. I've gone too far to get fired for something stupid." Ramon nodded with embarrassment. He understood. He was not one of the ones who was supposed to be in on my transformation. "Okay sorry." He disposition changed back to it's sunny self, "Look. Let me give you that foot rub, and fix a drink, and then you can tell me all about your crappy day." I smiled. This was part where I usually politely blew Ramon off. Ever since I went from Martin to Marianne he has been gently hitting on me, my true sex seemed to make no difference. He matter of factly shrugged it off and explained some of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen back home in Brazil were once, or could still be, men. His attitude was very nonchalant. I looked at him for a moment. He has always been very nice to me and at this moment I did not want to be alone inside my own head. He must of known walking around in heels this high was going to make a foot rub a difficult offer to pass by. I agreed. We went to his apartment and he fixed me a vodka neat. He sat down next to me and I slid my feet out of my heels and placed them in his lap. He began rubbing them. It felt fantastic, I closed my eyes and went with the feeling. His hands were warm and strong, and I didn't object as they occasionally slid off of my feet and up my leg. "How did I ever get in this fix Ramon?" I asked him, almost rhetorically, "How did I ever get in this fix?" I gulped down the Vodka, he got up and fixed another. "Tell Marianne. How did this happen?" I sighed, "Most people weren't able to figure it out like you were Ramon. I look too different. I know I don't have to tell you since you've kept quiet this long, but none of this can go past this room ...." Not realizing how badly I wanted to tell someone, the story began spilling from me. Ramon listened intently, occasionally nodding sympathetically: "I took this job when my former employer, MaximTech industries downsized the public relations department when they merged with another company. We had twice the number of people doing half the number of jobs. Somebody had to go. Despite my six years of loyal service, I was one of the many. "I was interviewing a bit here and there, nothing spectacular, and unfortunately nothing nearing what I made at my former job. I went back to the agency that had placed with MaximTech to begin with. I was loathe to use them because even though they had successfully placed me, we did not part on good terms. "I arrived ready to go through the usual drill. I stapled my resume to the application on the receptionist's desk, and was ready to sit and wait in the lobby forever, when a voice called out to me. I turned back around. A tall, attractive, professionally dressed, brunette walked over and picked up my resume. It was Kirsten McDonald. I had noticed her standing discreetly in against the wall when I entered. A woman as striking as Kirsten is difficult to miss. "Sir," she called again. She read over my resume quickly and then looked at me. It was a calm clinical gaze. I was being sized up, and from the head to toe sweep of her eyes, it looked to be more than just taking in the cut of my suit. "Martin Peterson, I am Kirsten McDonald." her firm grip combined with her baby soft hands was pleasurable. "I see you were in public relations at Maxim Tech. I am looking for someone to take a private public relations position with an individual employer. May we go somewhere and talk?" Over coffee in the lobby's Starbucks Kirsten McDonald leisurely interviewed me. She was chatting away largely herself and slipping in key questions in the guise of casual conversation. I admired her skill. It would have escaped most people, but six years in public relations had taught me a range of information gathering and spinning. After awhile she seemed satisfied with the answers I had given her, and even though we barely touched upon my employment record she made an offer "My employer is willing to pay you eight thousand dollars over what you were making at Maxim Tech. He is additionally willing to give you a signing bonus of three months pay." I stopped her. "Ms. McDonald. You don't even know what my pay was at Maxim Tech and you're extending this offer." I shifted in my chair, this was a bit unusual. "Well Martin, there are a couple of things that are different about this job that require additional pay, the first is that all employees live on something called the Grounds ..." "I noticed she didn't call it the Prison Camp." It was the first time Ramon had interrupted me since I started the story. I brought myself back from my memories and focused in on the present. He was still rubbing my foot, but I noticed he was rubbing it in a fashion that it slid slightly back and forth in his lap. Slowly, but certainly, he was growing hard. I was having mixed emotions. Unlike the aggressive sexual advances of Waterson, there was something nice about this. This morning I let Waterson have his way basically for money. But I was beginning to feel something stir, a desire. I pushed the thought away. Must just be confused from the day's events. My sexuality had been turned on it's head and this must just be some sort of mixed up after affect. I didn't have the energy to fight emotions anymore. And making Ramon feel better, after all he had done to make me feel better, just felt like the right thing to do. I curled my toes and lightly ran my stocking foot against the outline of his crotch, lightly giving him a foot job. He smiled approvingly. "But you didn't look anything like a woman when I first saw you" Ramon said "I mean you were a little small, a little soft in the features ... But how did you get to ...?" He gestured at my current form. "Greed, Ramon, greed," I continued telling my story: "Looking back on it, I can see how I was manipulated so easily and how dumb I was. The story they handed me was just plain ridiculous. I should have just walked away, but they were just paying me so damn much I couldn't see the truth. "I had been working here for about a year when Kirsten approached me about a promotion. A hefty one." I paused as it sunk in, " It seems as though my chasing these money promotions is what gets me in all this trouble in the first place... " I was beginning to well up again, thinking about how the love of money caused me to coquettishly beg Waterman to fuck me like some corporate ladder climbing whore this morning. I was burning with shame. And like the woman I now seemed to be, I was going to cry. I pulled myself together and went on: "Kirsten calmly explained that they needed a senior PR person and that I was easily the best qualified, but it wasn't that simple. Waterman's own diversity program determined that the position needed to go to a qualified woman, but Waterman didn't want to bring in an outsider into such a high position when the most qualified candidate is a male who already understands the culture of the Grounds. His paranoia of outsiders made that seem plausible to me at the time. "Their plan was simple." I explained, "On paper they would hire Marianne Anderson using my social security number. They would then create a complex legal paper trail, similar to the one created by writers using a pseudonym, to get the money in my pocket. This Marianne would be my boss and a telecommuter, so she would never have to be seen. Therefore I would be making all the decisions and claiming they came from this mysterious boss. And if it got sticky with any of the authorities that actually matter, well, since it was my social security number being used on the employment papers, we would just claim the error was a typo or two." Ramon looked up. He was engrossed in the feeling of my foot against his growing hard on, but managed to divert his attention for a moment to what I had been saying. His face was quizzical, "I don't get it. We are part of his personal staff, we aren't covered by his company's diversity policies. And why couldn't he promote you and hire a woman to your old position? That would keep this make believe balance". "Ah, Ramon. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. The only thing I heard was 'promotion' - meaning more money." He nodded undertandingly. "So," he asked, "You're still not answering my question. How did Marianne go from being a name on the paper to this beauty that sits before me? That's the leap I am interested in," He flashed me a warm smile, "in more ways than one." I continued, "Things were going fine for a few months. I ran the show, issued the press releases, handled the spin for the newspapers and tabloids, standard PR stuff you do for an individual like Waterman. I'm good at what I do and was doing a bang up job. "One day Kirsten was knocking frantically on my apartment door When I opened the door she was a whirlwind of activity and speech: "We're in trouble," Kirsten explained, "The Public Relator, the public relation industries biggest magazine -" "I'm well aware of what the Relator is." I told Kirsten. "Well they want to do an article on Marianne." I shrugged, I didn't see what the emergency was, "Just tell them we can't." Kirsten was adamant, "It's not that easy. I talked to Waterman about this. He is nervous that putting them off too much may get people sniffing the trail." As a veteran PR person, I reluctantly knew knew she was right. The press is basically lazy. Hand them everything they need and they will look no further. Make them work, and they will irritatedly dig deeper than you want them to. "We've worked out a fairly simple solution. The interview will go back and forth by email, so that's no problem." She looked me in the eyes, then said, "It's the pictures. They want pictures. You are going to have to pose as Marianne." I shrugged again, I still didn't see why this was my concern. "Well then, get someone to pose for the pictures. You pose for the pictures. Because I know you must be kidding about me. Besides, it won't work." Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she gave me a stern look. "I run all of Dan Waterman's affairs. I run much of what happens on the Grounds. I am very well known. I can't do it." She sat down on the chair in my entrance way and explained, "The problem is two fold," she spoke with hurried intensity, "If we get someone to pose for you, then that creates a weak link in the chain that could break. It's worth a lot of money to a lot of people to discover irregularities about Waterman. Truism: the best way to keep anything secret is reduce the number of people in on the secret." She was right there. One of the reasons we were paid so well was to keep the temptation of tabloids or companies searching for dirt at bay. Much of what went on around the Grounds was on a need to know basis. "Secondly, on the slim chance the IRS or someone snoops around we can show you actually posed for the pictures, you did the interview, you are receiving the pay checks. At best it's embarrassing. But this way is a harmless hoax, the other way may be construed as attempting to defraud the government by creating a phantom employee. Big, big, difference in the eyes of the law." Kirsten popped up from the chair. "We don't have a lot of time." I frowned, "I'm not doing this." Without missing a beat Kirsten said, "There is a two thousand dollar on the spot bonus for doing this. Now hurry up." She did not wait for my answer. She shoved me towards the bathroom. Reaching into suitcase like bag she had been carrying, she produced a jar of cream. Hair remover. "I'll help you, if you do this wrong, it'll burn you." "Strip down to your underwear and I'll apply it". Caught up in the whirlwind of events, my mind very much on the two grand bonus, I complied. Kirsten spread the cream over my face and body with near loving care. The firm swirling motion of her hands on my legs and chest began to give me a tingle in my groin. I made myself think of something other than this beautiful woman rubbing my half naked body. I waited 15 minutes then showered it off and toweled myself completely dry. I looked at myself in the mirror and was shocked at how strange I looked hairless. My body looked thinner and more fragile. Without pubic hairs, even with my penis in full sight, I had a softer more feminine look. The bathroom door swung open and Kirsten boldly strode in. She looked at my new softer nude appearance. I was mortified. I grabbed quickly for my towel. "Don't be embarrassed," Kirsten said softly. "You look good ...very good". Her tone was almost seductive, very unusual for Kirsten. In all the time that I worked with her she never indicated any interest in me, or any one else for that matter, she was never anything but completely professional. She showed me out of the bathroom into my bedroom. She tossed a pair of pantyhose to me. "Put these on." At this point I was just flowing with the momentum. I slid the nylons across my hairless legs, one at time. I pointed my toe, as I had seen done by women so many times, pulling the hosiery over my foot and sliding it up my first leg. There was a cool smooth sensation that I found honestly quite pleasurable. I slid them half way up my leg and did the same thing with my other. Once I had them half way up my thighs, I pulled them up to my waist while I shimmied back and forth to ease them on. The nylons gripped my legs in a comfortable, supporting fashion, not at all constricting like I expected. The material felt good against my penis. I pulled on the pair of panties handed to me by Kirsten. They had hard foam rubber in the hip area, and straps that went around the bottom of my butt cheeks to pull them as high as they could go, giving them a round, full feminine look. I had never quite seen anything like them. I ran my hand down the back of my ass across the exposed nylon. It felt good. I looked down to my stockinged feet. I've never had big feet, but now covered in the tan hosiery, they looked absolutely small and feminine. I was given a waist cincher which I found to be extremely tight. Kirsten stepped back and observed. "We are definitely going to have to go for a smaller waist ... but first ..." Out of her suitcase of tricks she produced surgical tape. She pushed my pec muscles up and toward the middle, taping them in place. She then smeared some sort of goo over my entire chest. She pressed two breast like objects against the goo and waited. After what seemed an eternity she released them. They stayed attached on their own. The feeling was instantaneous. I felt more weighted on top, and the breast forms she stuck to me pulled at my chest much like they were a part of me. The last undergarment I was to wear was a padded push up corset. I pulled it on and Kirsten worked the strings in the back until the corset pulled my waist in as far as it would go. To finish off the outfit, I put on a white silk tank top, and very short brown skirt with matching brown jacket. I looked down to see my own skin pop over the top of the tank top. With the forms and tape, there was no question, I had breasts and cleavage. Kirsten then went to work on my make-up. Laboring for what seemed eternity she poked my eyebrows with some electric device, before running it under my nose and across my cheeks carefully. "That," she announced, "should keep that pesky hair off your face forev... for quite sometime". Kirsten applied foundation, blush, eye shadow, eye pencil, and lip liner. She put a brown colored lip stick on my lips. She placed a cap over my head which pulled my eyes and eyebrows upwards, making them even more arched and feminine. And as the final touch she placed a brunette wig on my head, cut much in the fashion of her own long but neat locks. She fussed with the wig, hair spraying and combing until she seemed satisfied. Fishing through the bag she produced two pair of brown shoes. One was an alligator skin like pair of heels. They looked very expensive. The second pair were very low brown heels, what most women would call sensible shoes. "You walk in this pair" she said holding up the lower heels, "You take your picture in these. But put this higher pair on first, I want to see how you look." I slid the heels onto my feet and walked in front of the mirror with a little bit of wobble. The person who looked back at me was unquestionably a woman. I had begun to have some idea, looking down at my legs, hips and the cleavage that protruded from my tank top that my lower half of me had taken on a feminine look ... but I had no idea I was so womanly in the face. It was a shock. But looking at myself closely in that mirror, I had a very strange mix of emotions. I was oddly intrigued in part by my ability to look so much like an attractive woman. It was like a door opening up that I never realized was there. There was an entire look, world and mode of behavior that I could now explore if I chose. The world of looking like a woman ... a good looking woman. The other feeling swirling around inside me was that in a weird way, I was attracted to myself. It is difficult to describe, but I looked at my legs, the curve of my body, the prettiness of my face in the same admiring way I look at other women. It was a very odd feeling indeed. All of this topped by the confusion caused by my possibly liking this experience. I was afraid of what this said about me as a man. As I looked at Kirsten's work I felt myself grow hard. There was nothing I could do about it. The harder I became, the more my penis pressed against the cool nylon making me even that much more excited. There was no hiding the bulge in the front of my skirt from Kirsten. But the generally reserved Kirsten I knew, reacted in a very different way than I expected. She approached me putting her hand against my bulging package. "Now that would be a dead give away wouldn't it? Let's see what we can do about that." She reached around and unzipped the back of my skirt letting it fall to the floor. She pulled the front of my panties and hose down, hooking them underneath my balls. My penis on stood straight and hard. Kirsten dropped to her knees and took my dick in her mouth, licking expertly around my tip, taking in my entire shaft without as much as a gag. The fingers of her left hand played with my balls as the right ran down the side of my sleek hosed legs. Standing above this beauty as she engulfed my cock, looking down on the slopes of her curvaceous breasts, made me pulsate with excitement. But it was the sight of my silky nyloned feet arched in high heels, my calf and thigh encased in the sleek material, while I looked down across my cleavage to this beautiful woman sucking me with such great skill, that finally caused my cock explode every ounce of sperm I had down the back of her throat. Pulling every bit of sperm out she smiled. She then pushed my dick and balls between my legs and pulled my panties and hosiery back into place. She stood up and pressed her breasts against mine. "There that's better. There's something about you dressed as a woman that makes me very hot for you .... too bad you're so against it, I think I could show you some things that could make this worthwhile. If only ... you could dress up for me every once in a while" Ramon paused my story as he commented, "Ah yes, the exquisite Kirsten. So now you had been lured by both money and sex with the divine beauty herself. You found a part of you that liked how you looked as a woman and you wanted to explore more. All the factors were in place, I can begin to see how you got caught in the spider web." "Yes, exactly. Everything fell right into place in a matter of hours. Later, much later, I began to realize that the whole thing was a set up. Kirsten's advances toward me was just to help cloud my mind and lure me into womanhood. If I would have not been rushed, if I would have stopped to think and use just a little bit of logic, I would have seen through the scores of holes in what she was going on." Ramon knew what the holes were, "Like, why were you being rushed to do an interview? They must have known long before Kirsten knocked on your door, it had to take time to set up." "Exactly," I agreed, "That perfectly fitting female wardrobe didn't materialize from thin air. I'm sure breastforms and padded panties aren't found at the local 7-Eleven either. That was why I was being rushed, so I couldn' t think it through." "My experience at the photo shoot clouded the issue even more." I explained to Ramon, "Kirsten rushed me over to the old lab building on the west side of the Grounds. Her only instructions to me were to relax, and to not speak. When we arrived everything was set up. The photographer, a man in his early thirties, lit up when Kirsten and I walked in the room. He looked Kirsten over quickly with a admiring, near lustful glance ... and to my great surprise he did the same thing to me." "When I had first seen myself in the mirror, I knew that I looked good, but was having doubts as Kirsten and I were driving the golf cart over to old lab building. People who usually didn't pay me any mind were staring. I was feeling self conscious and certain it was because I looked strange. After all, I was a man. There had to be something slightly off about me. Kirsten assured me it was the opposite. In the enclosed world of the Grounds, a new good looking woman was going to get attention. It was the same with her when she arrived. "But it wasn't until I saw the look in the photgraphers eyes ... the same look he had for Kirsten ... that I became a little more confident and relaxed. I cleared my mind and fell into the role of what I thought a woman should be, that helped thing go well." "The photo shoot was more elaborate than I expected for a couple of pics to grace a magazine such as the Public Relator. There were changes of outfits, different poses. It was quite an experience. I had to admit I was enjoying it quite a bit." "The photgrapher shot a handful of Poloroids to give me a rough idea of how some of the pictures would turn out. They looked fantastic. He told me if I ever wanted to do anything else, he would be flattered to do the work. He placed his card in my hand, holding my hands a little too long. I could see he was attracted to me. It was strangely flattering, and I admittedly liked it. The photographer had been very attentive to me, getting me drinks, making sure everything was okay, just generally being very nice. I found that I enjoyed the attention that good looking women got." "Kirsten and I returned to the room directly from the shoot. We sat at my kitchen table and per Kirsten's request I made us some strong drinks. We sipped quietly away for some time, each of us lost in our own thoughts, absorbing what had been quite a day so far. Two or three drinks were downed before one of us said more than a couple of words." "That photographer back there had quite an eye for you." Kirsten observed, "He didn't even realize that I was in the room." I laughed, "Kirsten have no worries. There is not a room in the world you where could go in unnoticed." She waved off my flattery with a flutter of her hand. She leaned towards me, her voice took on a conspiratorial tone, "How did it feel to have a man wait on you hand and foot? Pretty good didn't it? Men will do anything for you, anything at all when you look the way you do. It's power, and you have it now." She leaned back in her chair, her look slightly apologetic, "Listen I have to be square with you. The glue ... the glue I used to put on your fake breasts is not the solvent kind. Meaning, we have to wait a couple of days before they come off safely without ripping your skin to shreds," she held up her hands halting the objection about to be uttered from my mouth, "Look. I like having Marianne around, I find myself attracted to her in ways that I could never be with Martin. I know I'm asking a lot on top of the favor you have just done both Mr. Waterman and me, but ... let Marianne stay around for just a couple of more days ... just through the weekend. As I said before," her face slid into the seductive look that I had never seen before today, "it'll be worth your while" she promised. To prove her point she grabbed my hand in hers and slid my middle finger into her mouth. "Follow me," she said. I walked with Kirsten and found myself with her in my bedroom for the second time that day. She threw my jacket into the corner and lightly pushed me against onto the bed and falling on top of me. Even with my breast forms, hers pressed against mine was a pleasurable sensation. She kissed me deeply, running her hand down my side slipping underneath my skirt. She grabbed my penis in her hands and slowly stroked me until I was hard. She was whispering intently in my ear, telling me how much she wanted me. Kirsten stood up, sliding my skirt off of my legs. "Let's make you a real woman," she declared. Gently she slid the hose off of my smooth legs placing my high heels back onto my feet once they were off. She slid her head between my legs cupping her hands underneath my ass. Lifting it slightly, she licked around the outside of my ass, and without warning, plunged her tongue inside. I shuddered with pleasure. I had not felt anything like this, it was amazing gratification and pleasure. I moaned quietly with joy. Kirsten plunged her tongue deeper and deeper before pulling it out. She then slid onto my lap pressing my penis between her large breasts. Squeezing them together, she slid up and down. My dick ached as the warm flesh of her tits surrounded my hard shaft. "Now let's really make you a woman," she whispered. Kirsten spun around into the sixty-nine position, placing her wet box millimeters from my face. I licked greedily at her clit. She took my dick in her mouth and shoved her finger into my tongue wetted hole - sliding it in and out slowly, sensuously. It felt great as my sphincter relaxed for the ride. This seemed to be what she was waiting for as she rolled off of me. Reaching into her suit case like bag of tricks she quickly slipped into a strap on dildo and just as quickly lubing the rubber cock. Falling back onto me she pushed my legs apart and into the air, spreading my ass cheeks for what was to come. I relaxed, thinking about the pleasure of her tongue,knowing this could feel good too. She gently pushed the cock into my ass little by little, working it in bit by bit. I was surprised at the pleasure it gave me. I looked across my spilling cleavage up to my smooth feminine legs spread and in the air; one heel dangled off of my foot, swaying with each light pump of my ass. I grew harder as the thought of my being fucked like a beautiful woman excited me. Kirsten pumped away at my ass using her lubed hand to jerk me off. I blew my load everywhere. She pulled out and laid on top of me, breast to fake breast, cock to fake cock. We fell asleep that way. The next couple of days were a whirlwind of sex. It was the weekend so Kirsten was constantly around. In between the sex Kirsten was giving me pointers on behaving more like a woman. She liked me dressed so I spent the two days completely as Marianne. The pointers she had been giving evolved into out right lessons and I found myself spending an hour or two each day walking, sitting and learning to speak and move in a female way. On Sunday night Kirsten informed me she had spoken to Waterman about me, explaining how convincing I was as a woman. They both thought it was a good idea for Marianne to be seen on the Grounds from time to time, making the mysterious pr woman reality and alleviating suspicions that much more. With Waterman's approval and Kirsten's sexual and verbal coercing, I spent a great deal of time as Marianne. At the same time Kirsten and I were becoming very close - half lovers, half sisters. The times that I would return as Martin, Kirsten would be scarce only to reappear as Marianne did. Marianne's appearances were becoming easier and easier for me. The hair remover had a long term effect, and after a few weeks of use, I suspected it may actually be permanent. My female wardrobe was growing, and Kirsten and I were constantly shopping for more. After awhile, it was almost easier for me to go through the routine of being Marianne than it was Martin, especially since I had breasts that were glued to me for three or four days at a time. As Martin dissapeared, things to make Marianne remain came into play. I grew my hair out and styled it as a woman's. I grew out my nails and had them manicured. It was nearly impossible for Martin to return unless he did so for good. And it was very clear throught Kirsten's actions, that if I chose Martin, there would be no Kirsten." ***** I paused from my recounting. Ramon was very attentive to my every word ... I was quite certain he hadn't heard many stories like this. "So when did you begin to suspect that something was not right?" He asked. "The tip off was these ...." I unbuttoned my jacket, pulling up my blouse. My braless c- cup breasts protruded from my push up bra. I unsnapped the front and let them fall before his eyes. "They're real ..." he said, despite all of his talk of his experiences in Brazil, he seemed surprised. "As real as they can be when you aren't born with them. Yes. I have implants, and not just there ...." I patted my hips and slapped my ass. I explained to Ramon the events that lead up to this. "Kirsten had been suggesting for sometime that we go get our lips done - collagen. I was very far along in being Marianne at this point and was quite enjoying it, I hadn't worn male clothes in months. With what Waterman paid me I could well afford it and I knew that collagen injections wore off after time. If I didn't like it I could just wait it out. "We scheduled the proceedure to be in house and it should have been fairly routine. But it was far from that. I don't remember going under but I woke up in a hospital type bed in my apartment feeling like I was run over by a truck. Everything ached and I had an IV sticking out of my arm. My chest, my face and lower extremities were tightly bandaged. I was being heavily drugged and fell in and out of consciousness. When they finally took me off of the intravaneous drugs, several days had passed." "When my mind cleared, the room was empty except for Kirsten. She was standing over me waiting for me to wake. Her faced beamed with joy and her eyes were strange. In a voice that reminded me of a cult member explaining their religion, she told me what surgical alterations had been done to my body: breast and hip implants, a nose job and a voice box scrape. She explained that she and Waterman thought this was best. "I was surprised at how calm and calculated my reaction was. I smiled back at Kirsten and lied to her telling her I thought this was for the best and thanked her for doing for me what I didn't have the nerve to do myself. But my mind was also racing, trying to pin point motive. Kirsten was easier to understand. She had fallen for me as Marianne and she wanted me to be Marianne all the time. And like so many others around here, Waterman is god to her and she can see no wrong in his decisions. Once he agreed it was a done deal. But it was Waterman that I was worried about. What did he get out of this? Making Kirsten happy, perhaps? I didn't make sense to me." "Once I got back on my feet, I dove full steam into being Marianne. It felt like the safest thing to do. I couldn't imagine that Waterman would let me walk around for long if I was raising hell about his turning me into a woman. That would be exactly the kind of exposure he couldn't risk. I figured too many wrong moves wouldn't be good for my health, and I may just mysteriously evaporate as malcontents do around here from time to time. So to prove I wanted to embrace Marianne, I set up and lead high profile meetings, met with the staff often and today even gave a lecture to three hundred PR people from around the country." "And it was after today's lecture ..." I told Ramon of Waterman's forcing himself on me while offering me a job. He pondered it. "You know, he said, "this could just be a display of power and control. What would prove your power over someone more than changing their sex and making them live with it?" It was my turn to ponder. I recoiled at the idea of thinking someone turned my life upside down as an arbitrary display of their strength. It was too perverse to consider. "The only way I know to find out what's going on," Ramon suggested, "is to ask Waterman himself. Which may require .... a little more coercian than you would like ..." "You mean sleep with him. Use my looks to try to turn the tables long enough to try to coax the truth. It's a disgusting concept, but it may have to be done." I looked up at Ramon, who was still rubbing my feet distractedly as he thought. I had never spoked in length to Ramon, never knew how keen his mind was. We had dealt briefly when I was having small troubles caused by my hip implants and I needed to work out to make my muscles stronger to adjust. That was when he easily figured out that I was once Martin even though I look nothing like I did. He was truly sharp. And actually handsome. I felt a surge of emotions toward him. I made a decision. Running my stockinged foot up his chest I whispered, "Okay Ramon, I think you've waited long enough." Sex with Ramon was very nice, he was gentle in the way Kirsten was, yet strong without being hurting the way Waterman was. He took his time on my body, licking and sucking my breasts patiently. He kissed my stomach and to my surprise took my penis into his mouth. He moved up and down on my cock slowly and unhurriedly until I was stiff. His hands ran up and down my thigh high stockings. He rolled me over to my knees and mounted me from behind with his lubricated shaft. He was big. He gently pushed inward, moving his cock slowly, enjoying the gripping of my tight hole. He leaned down and told me how long he had watched me and how badly he wanted me. His pumping motion remained paced and languid and his load exploded inside me. He rolled me over again and took my cock in his hand. He used the lube and smeared it all over my hard dick. He gave me a long hard kiss and said, "This is seal our trust." He turned around and got onto his knees sliding one of his slick fingers into his ass. I understood what he meant. I crawled up behind him and pushed into his tight butt. I squeezed his rock hard cheeks and pumped in and out with the same care he showed me. It had been so long since I had entered anyone with my cock, Kirsten never let enter her. I slowly pumped faster and faster until I was slamming away at his ass. It felt so good. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair fell wildly about my face, my large breasts swayed with each slam of his ass. My dick was shiny with lube and moving in and out - all that could be seen were the garters of my stocking legs pressed against his cheeks as my dick disappeared deep into his ass then reappeared as I reared back again. My patent leather heels shone brightly in the light, reflecting each small movement. His face was scrunched in a mixture of agony and bliss. I increased the tempo until, I too exploded leaving my sperm in his ass. We collapsed together and held one another. I woke up the next morning still in Ramon's apartment. For the first time in weeks I felt confident and good about myself. I snuck out of bed not to wake Ramon and headed to my apartment. I took a nice long shower and carefully washed and rinsed my hair with my best conditioner. I toweled off and checked my legs and face: still as smooth as a baby. I took a razor and shave what little hair remained of my pubics. Sitting down on the toilet I polished my toe nails a bright red. Satisfied they were dry I headed to the bedroom. Rooting through my drawers I picked out a nice pair of black satin panties. Before putting them on, I pulled my penis firmly between my legs, taping it hard. I slid the panties on and looked at myself. No trace of the bulge. I looked in the drawer for my most padded push up bra. I put my c cups in them and looked in the mirror. Fantastic, I looked huge, my cleavage poured over the cups. I slipped on a black garter and rolled the silky black sheer stockings up each leg. It was time to pick out an outfit. I pulled out a very low cut, very tight crushed velvet top that barely containing my large round breasts. I decided on a short clingy skirt with a slight slit on the side. The right movement made it apparent that I was wearing stocking. To finish off the outfit I chose a pair of very high clear and black platform slides. It was time to go see Waterman. After much wrangling with his personal secretary, I was able to block off an hour right after lunch. Even though it was a warm day, I chose a long thin jacket to cover the revealing clothing I was wearing and headed over to his office. Dan Waterman's office was a palatial as one would expect from a man of his standing. It was elaborately furnished complete with a bar, couch and entertainment center. When I entered Waterman did not look up, he was fiercely typing away on his PC and indicated with his hand for me to sit. It was a typical tactic of those in power to make you wait. I sat down on the couch. After a few moments, Waterman turned his attention to me. Unlike when he pushed himself upon me yesterday, today he appeared to be all business. Perhaps he was wary of the aftermath of his actions. I was going to have to do a little work. It was time for the bold approach. I pulled out some paperwork from my briefcase and stood up. "I'd like to go over some matters with you sir," I took off my jacket hanging it up mumbling about it being too warm. I went over to his desk and brazenly sat on the front of his desk mere feet from him, I crossed my legs my a swish of nylon; the incredibly high heeled platform slide dangled from my foot. The look in his eyes told me I had caught his attention. I poured over routine matters asking for his input on things he would generally not concern himself with. Throughout the conversation, I leaned forward letting him get an eyeful of my bra popping cleavage, and crossed and uncrossed my legs often watching his eyes guide themselves under my skirt. As he shifted in his chair, I could detect he was growing hard. "Would you mind if I said something on a personal level?" He nodded, albeit uncomfortably. "I just want to thank you," I began, "for the other day. Not just the promotion .... although I am grateful for that ... but for what you've done to make me truly feel like a woman. It was a great experience for me, I couldn't get it out of my head. All I could think about was your hot cock sliding in my tight hole ... how I couldn't wait to have you again." Waterman could no longer hide his bulge. I was touching a nerve. I let the slide drop to the floor and rubbed his hard on with my stockinged foot. "I hope I was good to you too." I got off the desk and sat on his lap, slowly grinding my ass on his dick; he was very stiff. His hand reached up and cupped my breasts. I arched back to give him a bigger handful and licked his neck. His hard dick told me all I needed to know, "you were good" he groaned. I unzipped his pants and let his penis pop out. I turned around and licked down the side of his hard shaft. He shuddered with anticipation. Now was the time, "I just love what you've done for me, making me the woman of my dreams. What made you decide on me lover?" "Let's not talk quite now" he said waiting for me to go down on him. I went to work on his dick sucking it as expertly as I could. I felt him stiffen as he was ready to come, I stopped and asked him again, "Why did you make me woman. I can't seem to finish the job," I licked around the tip of his head, and squeezed his balls lightly in my hands "with that nagging at the back of my mind." "It was a bet okay, a bet." I didn't want him to see the shock on my face so I went back down on him. He immediately lost his load in my mouth. I licked it all, giving myself time to get composed. I sat back on the desk as he buttoned up his pants. "A bet?" I asked. I was no longer pretending I was happy about it. Waterman was a bit uncomfortable, "this conversation we're about to have never happened. No one will believe you over me anyway." He was becoming less uncomfortable as his usual air of arrogant self confidence took over. "I made a bet with Thomas Milkstern, the billionaire CEO of Milkst - " "I know who he is." I interrupted. He started again, "To be frank, when you have this much money, the challenge in life sometimes slips away. Sure there is the always the challenge of making more money, but even that is not enough. That is why you see these rich guys float around the globe in balloons or racing cars." He settled back in his chair, "The same goes for women. Sure, I can have sex with three or four at a time or any one of my employees wives, but that no longer is interesting. It got too easy. So I made a bet with Milkstern that to get an employee to keep his job, I could make him dress as a woman and live that way for some weeks." He waved his hand in my direction as case in point "Obviously I won." He continued, "The sex with you was an afterthought. You just turned out to be better looking than I could have imagined. And it was interesting to me that not only could I make you look like a woman, but I could make you take it like a woman. But why did I do all the surgery stuff when you were drugged up? Kirsten, that's why. She has been making noises about leaving for some time. She is by far the most valuable person who works for me, and I would do anything to keep. When I saw she fell for you when you were a chick - and, yes I did notice - I made a decision and turned you into one permanently, making your leaving the Grounds a lot more difficult in your current condition. And it seems to be working, I haven't heard much about Kirsten wanting to go some where." "Look," Waterman said, "I've already won the bet. If you want the surgery to be reversed, I'll do it. But think about the money you make here for a relatively easy job. And figure out how you feel about Kirsten. She's quite a woman, and by changing you I've given you a fantastic woman who was clearly out of your reach." I looked at him a bit taken back. Kirsten actually was important to him, he honestly cared about her welfare. I got up and gathered my coat, "Thanks for being honest with me, even if this is your doing. I'll let you know about the surgery later. I want to sort some things out." "No," he said, "thank you. Just come around anytime you feel like taking care of that itch." He rubbed his crotch. ***** I walked directly into Kirsten's office and closed the door. She eyed me oddly, although my jacket covered my body, I realized she must be wondering about my stripper shoes. I had a lot to say, but really wasn't sure what it was going to be until I said it "Listen Kirsten, I was offered a promotion by Waterman. To help you run the Grounds." she shrugged, "I could use the help." "But that's not why I am here. Waterman also offered me the opportunity to go back to being Martin." Kirsten's face did not register as she glanced at me coolly. "I miss being Martin sometimes. In a lot of ways it can be easier to be a guy. But I have the feeling that only Marianne can have you .... and I very much want to be with you ..." "Not Waterman or the personal trainer Ramon?" She snapped. So she knew, "I was confused, it is strange to become a woman overnight. I know I did some things ....but again, I want to be with you. And I will stay as Marianne as long as you remain here on the Grounds with me." Kirsten smiled and rushed over and embraced me. The decision had been made. ***** Kirsten and I moved in together. She loosened up and understood my wanting to test my womanhood from time to time with Ramon and less frequently Waterman. She came to understand the more I was a complete woman, the better mate I was for her. Running the grounds with Kirsten put me in close contact with Mr. Waterman. I learned more and more about his affairs, and gained his trust. We talked casually about the most sensitive subjects. Over dinner Kirsten, Waterman and I were discussing hiring new personnel. Waterman leaned back in his chair. "A new accountant, huh?" he asked, "Boring group, those accountants. What do you say we make this interesting. I'll bet you ten thousand dollars against your bonus that you can't bring one in as a woman and turn her into a man ...." Despite myself I smiled, "You're on." The end