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Vindictive By Morpheus There is nothing within the world as hard and cruel as the heart of a vengeful woman. No man can possibly match a woman for sheer spite and vindictiveness for even the slightest of wrongs against her, real... or imagined. I learned this the hard way. My name was Neil Sanderson and I was a 34 year old man, just short of 6 feet tall and with perhaps just a little too much around my waist, though I was still some ways from being called fat. It was just one of the downsides of my job as a low level manager. A job that frequently kept me working many hours of overtime. It was late when I finally finished work and started for the door, exhausted from all the work that I'd been putting into the project, and all of the extra hours. And unfortunately, being a salaried employee, I didn't even get any financial compensation from the extra time. "Finally," I sighed, glancing down at my watch and then staring out the doors of the building, at the dark sky beyond. Then, just as I stepped out the door, I heard someone call out, "Hi," from behind me. I turned around and saw a young woman in her early twenties coming towards me. "Working late again I see," she added once she was next to me. The pretty young woman was Tara Macintosh, a secretary who worked just down the hall from me. I knew her only in passing, but from several looks I'd occasionally caught her giving me, I strongly suspected that she had something of a crush on me. However, as much as that interested me, I never acted on it. Instead, I just kept myself at a distance, remembering the gorgeous thing that I had waiting for me at home. "Oh, hi," I finally answered, leaving the building with her beside me. I glanced up at the sky and asked, "What kept you working so late?" She let out a sigh, "Marcus asked me to rewrite some of his reports." Then she grumbled, "But the damn computer went out and I had to do them over AGAIN." "Sorry to hear it," I told her, feeling genuine sympathy. Then I started towards my car, calling out, "Take care." "Will do," Tara called back. A minute later, I was in my car and heading home, eager to get something warm in my belly and maybe rest in front of the TV for a little while before going to bed. I knew that the next day was going to be another busy one, with perhaps even more overtime. I didn't know for sure yet, but it wouldn't surprise me in the least. When I finally got home, I remained in my car, letting out a sigh and smiling as I thought about Betsy... my girlfriend who would be waiting inside for me. Sometimes, I thought that she was the only thing that let me remain sane after a long day. Knowing that her beautiful face would be waiting for me when I got home. "I'm home," I called out as soon as I went inside, hanging my coat by the door. When I didn't hear anything back, I went into the living room, calling out, "Betsy?" Then I saw Betsy, standing in the middle of the living room, staring at me with a look that shocked and confused me. It was a look of pure hatred. "So you're finally home," she growled, "I know what you've been up to. Did you really think that I was too stupid to realize that you were cheating on me?" I just stared at her for a moment in confusion, "Cheating on you?" I blinked, "What the hell are you talking about?" Betsy snarled, "Do you really think that I'd buy your story about working all that overtime? I know what you were doing." Her eyes narrowed, "You and that secretary I saw you with." For a moment, I just stood there, feeling confused, as well as angry at being accused of something that I'd never done. "I've never done anything to cheat on you!" I yelled back, a bit more venom in my voice than I intended. "And you're crazy if you think I did." "I knew you were cheating on me... when I saw you with that tramp tonight," Betsy snarled, her voice filled with hatred. "And you're going to pay." With that, she held out her hand, which was pulled into a tight fist... the same as it had been since I'd walked in on her. Then she darted towards the bedroom, slamming and audibly locking the door behind her. I stood where I was, my own hands clenched tightly as I cursed under my breath, wondering what the hell was going on. After a long day at work, the last thing that I expected was to come home to an angry Betsy who was accusing me of cheating. "Damn it," I muttered, stomping towards the kitchen and deciding to see what I could find in the kitchen. Hopefully Betsy would calm down and be more reasonable once she'd had a little while to think about it. Several minutes later, I was just in the middle of eating some leftover chicken when suddenly everything felt... wrong. A burning sensation ran through my entire body, as well as several others that I couldn't make any sense of. It was almost as if everything was being pushed and pulled in different directions at the same time. It only lasted several seconds before it stopped, but it was the longest several seconds that I'd ever imagined. "What was that?" I gasped, grabbing the counter for support and then freezing. That hadn't sounded like my voice, and more, something else was wrong. Very wrong. Then, as I stood up, I felt the wrongness in my body. The strangeness that cried out, assaulting my senses and telling me that nothing was as it should be. All in an instant, I realized that I could feel some sort of weight at my chest, that my balance was off and that something was tickling my neck. Even my clothes suddenly felt wrong against my skin. Feeling almost overwhelmed with confusion, I looked down and gasped, my eyes going wide in shock. I wasn't wearing my own clothes anymore, and there were two rather obvious bulges pushing out from my chest. I just remained frozen, staring at my chest for a moment before slowly looking further down, noticing that I was wearing a skirt and pantyhose. And even women's shoes. "W... what the hell?" I squeaked out, realizing this time that my voice was very feminine. "What's going on?" I grabbed at the prominent bulges on my chest, feeling my own flesh though it stuck out much further than it should. And with sudden flash of understanding, I grabbed at my crotch, which was now smooth. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd somehow become a woman... but how? Gulping, I weakly gasped, "What happened to me?" Then I heard the laughing from behind me. Not a pleasant laughing either, but a harsh... cruel laughing. I snapped around at that, only to see Betsy standing there with an amused expression. "I did," she told me, her eyes gleaming cruelly. "I told you that I was going to make you pay." "Huh..." I squeaked out, looking down at myself in disbelief, and then back up at her. "How... this can't be happening..." Betsy just laughed at my confusion, "Not that it will do you any good, but I found a magic coin that granted me a wish." She smirked as she added, "And of course I used it on you." I just stood there, frozen in confusion and shock. "But why..." I squeaked out. She glared at me, her hands on her hips. "Since you like secretaries so much," Betsy snarled, "I decided that you can be one." "But... but..." I started to protest, my mind swirling with emotions. "Now get out of MY house," Betsy growled, "or I'll call the police." At my blank look, she added in a quiet, threatening tone, "Do you really believe that they'll believe you are my boyfriend?" Then her eyes narrowed as she grabbed for a kitchen knife, "GET OUT!" Terrified and confused, I did the only thing that I could think of. I ran for the door with all that I was worth and then down the sidewalk. Once I was out, I glanced backwards, only to see Betsy slam the front door on me. "W... what'll I do?" I cried out, nearly in tears, still not sure what I could possibly do. Then I noticed my car... which wasn't my car anymore. Instead of the nice, relatively new Honda, an older looking Chevy was sitting in it's place. One with a dented fender. And with a sinking feeling, I started towards it, glancing back at the house and having a feeling that my body wasn't the only thing that had suddenly gone through a drastic change. "Oh Betsy..." I whispered, shuddering at the way she'd lashed out at me. It wasn't at all like the Betsy I knew, though a smaller voice suggested that maybe I never really knew her in the first place. After a few minutes, I found that the car door was open, and a purse was sitting on the front seat. With a nervous gulp, I opened the purse, finding the keys as well as a wallet. I hesitated for several more seconds before slowly opening that and staring at the drivers license. There was a picture of a beautiful blonde woman with the name Theresa Bellows beside it. It even said that she was 24 years old. "C... can this be..." I glanced into the rear view mirror, seeing the same face as on the license. "Shit." Not knowing what else to do, I got the address from the license and started driving there. A short while later, I found myself at an apartment building, nervously stepping into a second story apartment, both hoping that I was wrong, and that I was right. The keys in the wallet opened the door with ease and I went inside, glancing around at the relatively small apartment. It was definitely a woman's apartment, and after a quick look around, I saw that it was only a one bedroom. "I..." I gulped, tears beginning to run down my eyes, "I guess this is home." After I was through taking a look around the apartment, I looked down at myself with a scowl and then started towards the bathroom, knowing that there would be a mirror in there. By that time, I was growing desperate to get a better look at what I'd become. Moments later, I was standing in front of the mirror, staring at myself in disbelief. The woman in the mirror was absolutely gorgeous, with long golden blonde hair. She had the sexiest face and from what I could see through the clothes... a killer body. "That can't be me," I croaked out. Then, after staring for another few seconds, I frantically started tearing my clothes off, desperate for a better view. At the moment, I was shocked and horrified at what had happened to me, so it was easier to face my curiosity than those emotions. Soon I was completely naked, amazed at the sexy woman that I saw. She... I had a body that any woman would kill for. One that could easily have been a stripper in any club, or even a centerfold for Playboy. I didn't know how long I remained standing there, staring at my reflection with mixed emotions of awe, desire and disgust. I didn't want to be that woman. Not in the least. However, I wouldn't mind starting at her, or better yet, making love to her. Then I shook my head, amazed that even such a small action just made me look sexy. I grumbled and left the bathroom, trying not to think about how I looked. Instead, my thoughts quickly drifted back to Betsy... and why she'd done that to me. "But I didn't cheat on her," I whispered, knowing that I'd have to find some way of convincing her that. Somehow though, I didn't think it would be easy. Not with the look of hatred that she'd had in her eyes. "I didn't do anything..." I sat on the couch... my couch for some time, just staring silently down at my naked body and feminine hands, thinking about what had happened to me and wondering what would happen to me next. I certainly couldn't go into work looking as I did now. There was no way that they'd believe that I was really who I was. However, I was shocked out of my thoughts by the telephone ringing. I scrambled for the phone, picking it up with a nervous, "Hello?" "Enjoying yourself yet?" Betsy's voice asked. "Betsy," I gasped, then taking a deep breath, "Change me back. Please." There was silence for several seconds, then Betsy finally answered, "I don't think so." There were another few seconds of silence before she continued, "At least not yet." "Why?" I cried out, tears beginning to run down my cheeks. Betsy just laughed, coldly... cruelly. A shiver ran through me and I wondered what ever happened to the nice and kind Betsy that I knew. Had she ever existed? "I told you that you were a secretary now," Betsy told me over the phone, "but I neglected to mention who's secretary you are. Mine." "Secretary..." I squeaked out, realizing for the first time that she must have seen me and Tara leaving the building together... and assumed the wrong thing. "You know where I work," Betsy stated coldly, "Your shift starts at 8AM. Trust me, you do NOT want to do anything that would get you fired... or make me any angrier than I am." The threat was clear in her voice, the hint that perhaps she could torture me even worse than she already was. Then she added, "And if you manage to keep me happy... well, you might get your old body back." "But..." I started, however it was too late as the phone was already dead. For a moment, I just stared at the phone, then I dropped it and started crying as the true horror of my situation began to really sink in. I was in desperate trouble, and there seemed to be no answer in sight. Only that I might... might get back to normal if I kept Betsy happy. It was less than an hour later that I finally cried myself to sleep, too exhausted to do anything else. --- The next morning, I woke up, shocked at first to find the changes in my body, though everything rushed in all at once, reminding me of what had happened. I cursed, nearly throwing the alarm clock against the wall as I climbed out of bed. "Damn..." I cursed as I looked down at myself, at my full breasts and sexy body. "I can't..." However, I knew that I could. That I would. I had no choice but to live as a woman for the moment. With that, I tried to ignore the drastic changes in my body, though it wasn't easy. Nor was I particularly successful. But I did manage to do so long enough to take a shower without focusing too much on how strange I felt. The whole time, I knew that I had to get ready for 'work'. After what Betsy had told me the night before, I knew that I didn't dare take the chance of not showing up... of getting her even angrier at me. All I could hope for at the moment was that if I played along, maybe she'd calm down enough and I could talk some sense to her and get her to change me back. It was the only hope that I had. After I was finished showering, I got dressed in the somewhat revealing business type clothes that I'd found in the closet. I'd seen enough attractive women dressed to be secretaries that I knew what would be expected, though I cringed at just how short all the skirts were. It was as if everything Theresa... I owned was designed to show off her body. The bra had been a slight problem, but not so much as working with the longer fingernails. After remembering how Betsy had done it, I'd gotten the bra on... and even the pantyhose. By the time I was finished dressing, I looked the part of a woman. However, when I looked into the mirror, there was one blaring omission that stood out. One that made me cringe at the very thought of it. "Makeup," I cursed. Any woman that looked and dressed as I did was certain to wear makeup. Taking a deep breath, I sat down at the makeup table and slowly started going to work, trying to remember everything that I'd seen Betsy do when she put hers on. Trying to take it step by step, hoping that I could get it right. Or at least passable. At first, the makeup was a real pain and I had to wipe it off and start over, however, just as I was doing it for the second time, something strange happened. The makeup went on a lot easier... almost as if my hands were using some half remembered skill rather than doing something completely alien. Then again, perhaps it was just the fact that my pride and kicked in, and my determination to do my best... even if it was something I didn't like. Either way, by the time I was finished, I had a very passable makeup job. "That should do it," I told myself, turning away from the reflection and trying to keep myself emotionally distant. It was about the only way that I'd be able to stop from getting angry, disgusted or turned on. "Now for work..." With that, I slipped on the shoes that I'd been wearing the night before, realizing for the first time that they actually had several inch heels. I'd been walking... even running in them without any problems, which surprised me once I finally took a good look at them. Then with a shrug, I put them on, finding that as I walked around my apartment, I didn't have any problems with them unless I started thinking about it too much. If I just focused on walking, there were no problems at all. And with a deep sigh, I took a slow look around the... my apartment and started on my way to Betsy's work. To... my work. I hated the very thought, especially since I'd spent so long getting to where I was with my own company. But that was gone now... all thanks to Betsy and whatever magic it was she'd used to take away my life. --- I looked around the office nervously, knowing that the first day of work at a new place was always the worst, but how many had to do it in new body. In a new gender and identity. I was scared and confused, though I struggled hard not to show it. Then, Betsy came in, dressed in her best business attire, her eyes narrowing dangerously the moment that she saw me. "You're late," Betsy half hissed. "That's one write up. Get two more and you're fired." With a nervous gulp, I nodded slowly. "All right." I remembered her threat about what would happen if I got fired from the night before. It was even worse since she was the one would could fire me. Betsy glared at me, then coldly said, "These are the rules. You are to address me as Ms. Simpson. You are the secretary... I am the boss. Remember that." She paused at that, waiting for my answer. I nodded, staring at the ground, feeling humiliated. "Yes." I answered quietly. And at her glare, I repeated, "Yes... Ms. Simpson." She smiled faintly at my response, though she still glared at me. "You work there..." she gestured to a small desk in the hall, adding, "You know where my office is." I nodded at that, remembering that it was the first door down from me. "You do what I tell you, when I tell you. There is to be no talk from you about... before. And if you make me happy, then maybe... maybe I'll change you back." Again she smiled, but it was cold and cruel. Again I nodded, "Yes Ms. Simpson," hating myself for saying it but knowing that I didn't really have much of a choice. That seemed to please her a little... though she quickly demanded that I get her coffee, just as she left for her office. Several minutes later, I brought a cup of coffee to Betsy's office and she just glared at me, exclaiming, "Took you long enough you stupid slut." I grimaced but said nothing as I left, feeling angry, shamed and humiliated. However, it was only to get worse. It didn't take me long at all to learn that I wasn't just Betsy's secretary. Instead, I held a position that was something like a secretary for three other people as well, typing, copying and running errands around the building for all four of them. However, none of them was near as horrible as Betsy. Throughout the day, Betsy constantly snapped and belittled me, insulting me in nearly every way imaginable. Her favorite was to call me a 'stupid little slut', though there was nothing that I could do except get her coffee and do the mindless work that she piled on me. At lunch time, I stood in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror and cringing. I felt shamed and humiliated from the constant verbal abuse and veiled threats, and it was visible in my eyes. "Oh God," I cried, staring into my beautiful face, then down at my fine nails, "What did I ever do to deserve this?" I remained where I was for several minutes before I finally turned, deciding to grab a quick sandwich from one of the machines before heading back to work. Betsy had made sure to keep me overloaded with work, much to my annoyance. However, there was little I could do except grin and bear it. My pride... as shaken as it was, still wouldn't get away with doing things half-assed. "Maybe once she calms down," I reminded myself hopefully. At that, I couldn't help thinking about the Betsy that I knew. The charming and witty one, not the vicious bitch that she'd become. Of course, as I thought about it, I remembered that she'd always had a sharp temper, though I'd never been caught directly in it before. All I'd seen were brief glimpses. But I'd never imagined that she could do something like that to anyone... especially me. Then, taking a deep breath, I braced myself for more abuse and left the relative safety of the rest room. All I had was the hope that I could hold out long enough for Betsy to calm down... to convince her of the truth. --- I was finally 'home' after a very long day at work, kept late because of Betsy and some last minute busy work. And as I looked around the small apartment, I never would have imagined how good it looked just then. How safe. With a sigh, I collapsed onto the couch and finally broke into tears, crying out all the shame and frustration that had been building all day long. I could finally let out all of the tears that had been building, nearly to the point of exploding. "Why me?" I cried out, looking at my hands... at my sexy nails. Then I looked down at my breasts and the rest of my body, hidden behind the clothes that did little to hide it's sexiness. "Why me?" As bad as things had been before my brief lunch period, they had gotten worse since. I cringed in shame as I thought about it, as well as frustrated anger. While I had been walking down the hall, some man whom I barely recognized had come up and started hitting on me. That had been bad enough, confusing me with his unwanted advances and how I could possibly chase him off. Then he'd pinched my ass and strolled off, confidently calling out, "See ya later babe." But it hadn't stopped there. Several other men had started hitting on me, none to subtly. More than one had 'bumped' up against me or put a hand on my shoulder while talking. Each time I had cringed, feeling helpless and humiliated. It was all I could do to escape them all... the men who had suddenly become predators. "I'm not a piece of meat," I cried out, furiously tearing off my clothes and staring down at myself. At my naked, sexy body. "I'm not a slut." A minute later, I was standing there in my living room, completely naked again. This time, I took a long look at myself, seeing exactly what it was that had drawn all those men to me at work. And as much as I hated to admit it, I would have been more than tempted to hit on a girl who looked like that. Then again, as I calmed down and thought about it, I knew that most of them wouldn't have risked the possible sexual harassment trouble that they'd get into for some of what they'd done. Like grabbing my ass, or even one guy 'accidentally' grabbing my breasts as he 'fell'. "Damn her," I cried out, knowing that Betsy was responsible, though I hadn't found out until everyone else in the office was leaving. Then I'd overheard a few things. "Damn her," I cried, tears pouring down my cheeks. Betsy had spread a few rumors around the office that I was a nymphomaniac slut who liked the attention, encouraging every man around to hit on me and humiliate me. At the same time, it ensured that every woman in the office avoided me, treated me as if I had the plague. And then, Betsy threatened me, letting me know that if I tried reporting any of that... I would never see my own face again. Ever. Eventually, I calmed down some, though it remained in the back of my mind, sitting there like a lead weight, a constant reminder that I would face it again the next day. I silently ate what little I found in the fridge, then went to the bedroom, deciding that things would probably be better once I was asleep. However, once I was in the... my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at myself, I couldn't help but feeling a growing curiosity about myself. About my transformed body. Nor could I help but feel at least slightly turned on from the most beautiful woman whom I'd ever seen. "Damn..." I whispered, absently rubbing at my nipples and crotch. They felt good. Different... but good. At first, I hadn't intended to go very far, only to touch myself experimentally, however the pleasant sensations encouraged me to keep doing it. It was a distraction from the pain inside... from the memories of the day. And without consciously realizing it, I grabbed at that distraction for all that I was worth. I moaned from the pleasure as I fingered myself, amazed at the strange but incredible sensations. Then I even screamed as I finally brought myself to orgasm, exploding in raw pleasure. First one... then several more. I finally fell asleep, wrapped in the warm comfort of an afterglow that offered me the only solace I'd had since my life had been ripped away the night before. The next several days were nearly the same as the first, with me being constantly shamed and humiliated by Betsy. With me being the social outcast among the women at work... and the prize as far as most of the men were concerned. However, there was something else added to the mix. Something that scared me... that shamed me... that confused me. On the second day, I didn't really notice it... at least not consciously, but by the third it was far more noticeable. And by the fourth... I could no longer deny it. I was becoming attracted to men. I was staring at them and absently noticing their attractiveness. Every day since my change, I had hoped that Betsy would calm down... that she would listen to the truth... that she would use whatever it was she used to change me to turn me back to normal. But that didn't happen. Instead, she seemed to be even colder... crueler. As if she was taking some great delight in my torture and humiliation. It was a week since I had first been changed and started work as Betsy's secretary. I was sitting at my desk, hunched over and staring at the pile of papers around me and feeling tired. Feeling exhausted physically, but even more so emotionally. I looked up for a moment, forming a half smile as a cute young guy whom I'd seen around walked past. Then I sighed, wondering again just what it was that I was thinking, that I couldn't like guys. I was a guy. However, as I looked down at myself, I scowled, "You sure don't look it," I muttered. Having my sexual orientation changing like that was confusing... and scary. I definitely found myself turned on by men now, but I was still attracted to women. But then again, I had to admit that I wasn't finding them quite as attractive as before. It was like I was a bisexual now, leaning towards me and perhaps even slowly losing my interest in women. In another week, girls might not do anything for me at all. That was just another thing to dread. "Why me..." I half whimpered, nervously darting a glance towards Betsy's office then sighing in relief when there was no sign of her coming. I stared down at my hands, knowing as I did so that if Betsy caught me, I'd just get yelled at more for slacking off. My fingernails were bright red and perfectly manicured, looking very feminine and sexy. I'd already gotten used to using them, almost even seeing them. As I sat there, I couldn't help but thinking about everything that Betsy had taken away from me. She'd taken away my job... my body... my very identity. She'd taken away even more though. She'd taken away my self respect... my confidence... and even my family. There was no way that I could ever see my parents again... at least not as their son. Then, I slowly glared at Betsy's office door, all my anger and frustration slowly boiling to the surface. How dare she do that to me? All I'd ever done was love her, and she betrays me in the worst way imaginable. She was not only humiliating me for some petty revenge... but enjoying it. With a sudden flash of insight, I knew that she wouldn't change me back... even if she could. She was having too much fun playing God. And at the same time, I remembered just what it was that she'd said the first night. That she'd found a coin that had granted her a wish. It was obvious that she'd already used the wish and couldn't change me back... even if she wanted to. "I'm... I'm stuck..." I whispered, half in horror, half in something else. For a moment, I just remained frozen, staring down at my breasts, feeling oddly shocked, but perhaps not as much as I should have been. Perhaps it was because a large part of me had already known that, though I kept clutching onto hope because I was in denial. But there was no more of that now. My whole future stretched in front of me like a dark road, with nothing certain except the fact that I would be a woman. And oddly enough, I knew that I could handle that. I might not like it, but I knew that I would eventually get used to being a woman. I had already been one for a whole week and had taken a rather large step in that direction. But then, as I glared at Betsy's door, there was one thing that I knew that I would never get used to. Being shamed and humiliated. I wouldn't... couldn't allow it to continue. By this time, I was seething with anger, though I remained perfectly still. And with a burning determination, I knew that I was going to get free. No, I was not just going to get free, I was going to make her pay for what she'd done to me. I was going to hurt Betsy the same way that she'd hurt me... by taking away everything that she held dear. "You're mine now..." I threatened in a quiet, hate filled voice. However, I didn't do anything at the moment, somehow managing to the effort of will necessary to keep myself in control. Appearing calm. There was one thing that I needed to succeed, and that was patience. My chance would come. --- It was just over two weeks since the day Betsy had transformed me... and a week since I had made my fateful decision. It took me several days of planning before I knew what I was going to do, then started setting the ground work. In that time though, something new had been added to the mix and I wasn't sure whether to be happy or frustrated at the further complication. Betsy had found a new boyfriend whom she was going hot and heavy with. A fact that she delighted in rubbing in my nose. I'd almost lost count of how many times Betsy had made comments such as, "His cock is nearly twice as big as yours was," or "At least he's a real man." I just gave a forced smile to her taunts, reminding myself that my turn was coming. During the past week, I had begun my preparations. I'd been very careful with the reports that I was given... and with the other managers that I worked with. I made myself invaluable to the other three, using my experience as a manager in a similar company to get them exactly what they needed and show that I was a highly competent worker, not just a sexy body. "Let's see," I mused, glancing at one of the reports that had been passed to me. I quickly noticed several errors and things that could be improved. And with a faint smile, I typed up both the original report that he'd requested, and an altered one, putting a number of sticky notes to point out things that I 'suggested' he might consider. "That should do it." Especially since the alterations would save the company several thousand dollars... and he'd get the credit. Just then, I noticed that Betsy had stepped out of her office and was coming straight towards me with a predatory grin. "I've got some more reports for you to type up you stupid little slut." And with that, she dropped the reports onto my desk and started moving away, adding, "I've got a hot date tonight." I glared at her but did nothing, instead focusing on the reports on my desk. Scowling at them, I smiled, knowing that my best shot was to hype them up, improving them drastically and then handing them up to the next higher up myself, subtly letting him know that I'd made one or two 'minor' edits. Then, I'd 'accidentally' let him get a look at a supposed 'unedited' copy of the report, with a few other additions. "Gotcha," I whispered, glancing after Betsy, then getting up and sneaking into her office. A minute later, I was in her computer, looking at a file that she was about to e-mail out. It was a spreadsheet with quite a few numbers. And with a wicked grin, I changed a few of them. It wasn't enough that she'd notice before sending it out, but it was something that would cost the company nearly $10,000. Something that she would get the blame for. With my small sabotage completed, I hurried back to my desk, a faint smile on my face. There was more to do at work... and as I glanced down the hall in the direction Betsy had went, something outside of it as well. --- My heart raced, threatening to burst through my chest as I looked around the bedroom that was not my own. From the bathroom, I could hear the water running, knowing that it would soon be too late to back out. That I only had a few more seconds before it was too late. However, I grimaced, taking a deep breath, refusing to quit now. Not after all of my planning. It had been easy to find out about Betsy's new boyfriend, and to follow him around, learning even more about him. I'd felt like a stalker while doing so, realizing that I probably was a stalker. However, it wasn't Tom that I was really interested in, even though he was the one that I followed. He was just a means to an end. Albeit a cute one. The day before, I had arranged an 'accidental' meeting with Tom at the supermarket, bumping into him and then apologizing profusely. My attempt to get his attention had obviously worked, especially since he nearly drooled while staring at my breasts. It hadn't taken much effort at all to get him to agree to a date as my way of 'apologizing'. Of course the date had gone fine, with me playing the part of sexy bimbo. The dinner had ended just a short time earlier and I had ended up at Tom's place... at my suggestion. I gulped, glancing down at my sexy dress and wondering if I might be going too far with this. Then I spat out, "No!" A minute later, Tom stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in nothing but his underwear. I smiled almost in spite of myself, my new feminine sensibilities beginning to act up. I was unable to tear my eyes from his firm muscular chest. He was so sexy... There was no doubt in my mind that this was definitely going to be a lot easier than I expected. "Hello handsome," I purred, already feeling turned on. And with a sexy wiggle to my ass, I slowly dropped my dress to the floor. "Like what you see?" Tom nodded emphatically, a grin on his face. His eyes were staring straight at my breasts, almost making me feel rather... proud. He liked the way I looked. It was a rather unusual sensation for me, at least about something like that. Within almost no time at all, we were both laying down on the bed naked, with Tom enthusiastically licking at my nipples. To my surprise, it felt incredible. No wonder women liked foreplay so much. It didn't take too much longer before the foreplay escalated. I couldn't help noticing that Betsy had been right, Tom was bigger than I had been. There was some envy over that fact, but not as much as I would have expected once he started moving it towards my crotch. Instead, there was an odd... excitement. When Tom finally... entered me, I was filled with a mixture of emotions. Both loathing at the fact that I was actually fucking a man... and euphoria that I was actually doing so. Finally, it was easier to push the thoughts that I had been a man out of the way and try thinking of myself completely as female. It made it a lot easier, and hell of a lot more enjoyable. "Oh God," I moaned in ecstasy, loving the awesome sensations that were filling my body. As Tom and I fucked, I wrapped my legs tightly around him instinctively, almost as if trying to pull him in tighter. There was only the briefest worry about unexpected consequences since I had taken birth control pills and insisted that Tom wear protection. Still, it came... then passed just as quickly. Then it finally came, the orgasmic explosion inside of me that filled my entire body. I'd never felt anything quite like it and was completely stunned. It was much... much better than an orgasm as a man. Tom kept at it though, brining me to a second one before he finally came as well. I remained in bed, almost delirious from the unfamiliar afterglow, however feeling just a little annoyed that immediately afterwards, Tom had just rolled over and gone to sleep, leaving me stuck in the wet spot. After I'd finally regained my senses, I climbed out of bed and glared at Tom for a moment. Then a slow smirk started to form and I rushed to where I'd left my purse, glancing in his direction to make sure that he was still out, then pulling out my camera. "Gotcha," I whispered, carefully setting the camera on his dresser, aimed at the bed with the timer set to go off in a few seconds. A moment later, I was back in bed, pushing myself up VERY close to Tom, making sure that my body was somewhat in view but that my face was turned away from the camera. And as I saw the flash, I couldn't help smiling. Once that was accomplished, I scrambled out of bed and quickly got dressed again, nervously glancing at Tom the whole time. Then I couldn't resist giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek before leaving the apartment, feeling a bit guilty for using him... but not too much. I had too good a time doing it. --- During the next few days, I called Betsy several times... then hung up as soon as she spoke. I knew that it wouldn't take much to get her suspicions going... then I dropped the bomb on her. Specifically, an anonymous envelope with a certain photo inside. It was enough to drive her through the roof. I felt a bit sorry for what I'd done to Tom, but he deserved better than her. Nobody deserved to have a girlfriend like her... one who would betray and torture them. Who would steal everything they ever had and then humiliate them sadistically. Things continued the same at work, with me slowly getting a bit of respect from the people I worked with, while Betsy started to look a little less competent. I knew that she'd really gotten reamed out for the huge loss of money, especially since she took her frustrations out on me. But it was worth it. But I still wasn't finished ruining Betsy's social life either. Sure, I'd hurt her when she and Tom broke up, but it wasn't enough. I knew of something else that would get her a little more personally. Something that made me laugh at the sheer irony. And all that I had to do was hang around her favorite bar. It didn't take more than a few days before she showed up while I was there, the sight of her dressed up for the prowl bringing a cold smile to my lips. "Perfect." I stood back, waiting in the back and trying not to attract any attention, until she'd spent some time with a man she'd met, obviously intending to take him home. It was then that I decided it was time to act. "Hello," I half purred, walking right up to Betsy and the man she was in the middle of dancing with. The look on her eyes was enough to make me smile for real. "Want to dance with a real woman?" I asked him. The man's eyes bulged out, though I wasn't surprised. Betsy had wanted to humiliate me by making me a total knockout... and now I was making her regret that. I was using the looks that she'd given me to take away her date, rubbing her nose in it. And as I started to step away from Betsy, she screamed, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She glared at me and then the man I'd taken from her, "Get your ass back here!" That just made the man glare at her, shaking his head in disgust. "Shut up bitch." Betsy grew even more furious at that, "She's really a MAN!" she screamed, pointing at me. However, the man shook his head in disbelief and I gasped in shock, "Me? A man?" Then I gave a sexy laugh, "Do I look like a man? I've heard some jealous ravings, but this takes the cake." By this point, everyone was staring at us, especially at Betsy who looked as if she was about to freak out completely. I just did my best to look like a hurt innocent who was the target of jealousy, which was working quite well. "YOU!!" Betsy screamed, nearly foaming at the mouth, "It was you with Tom!" I gave her my best 'who me?' look and shook my head. That only made Betsy scream out in fury and charge at me with her fingernails extended like claws. However, she never reached me, getting stopped by several large men who'd been watching from just a short distance away. A few others called out, "Catfight," but it was too late. Within a few seconds more, Betsy had been kicked out of the bar, leaving me with her former date, much to my delight. I only stayed though to dance for a few more songs, long enough to be polite and make him a very happy man. --- Over the next week, I took several more potential boyfriends away from her, pushing the body that she'd given me right into her face. At work, Betsy grew MUCH more vicious and irate, becoming even louder as she yelled and insulted me. There were almost constant threats of firing me. I just cringed back, pretending to be shamed and humiliated, but smiling inside. She was playing right into my hands. Finally, I had pushed her too far. It was the day after I'd taken away a man whom she'd been dating for several days, one whom she'd really had it good for. It was then that she fired me, loud enough so that the whole office at work could hear... and being nearly rabid as she did so. "You're fired you fucking slut!" Betsy screamed at the top of her lungs. "Get your ass out of her and go be a whore like you deserve!" I just smiled at that, surprising Betsy when I said a polite, "Thank you." A short while later, I was sitting in the office of Mr. Gimbold, one of the higher ups who supervised Betsy and the group of managers that I worked for... among other things. I sat in front of his desk, keeping my back straight and taking great effort to look professional and self controlled. Of course, I knew that I could easily have vamped him... especially since I'd had a LOT of practice doing that lately, but that wasn't what I wanted. Mr. Gimbold stared at me silently, having heard about the outburst from some other people but trying to find out the full story. I knew that he'd already talked to several other employees before he'd asked me in. "Ms. Simpson has had some personal grudge against me since I started here," I told him, sounding apologetic, "Though I can not understand why." I took a deep breath, slowly continuing, "I really hate to bring this up to your level and had hoped that we could resolve our differences, but I'm afraid that Ms. Simpson has left me little recourse." And with that, I gently set a small tape recorder onto Mr. Gimbold's desk. It was a recorder that I'd had turned on during quite a number of Betsy's insults, rants and threats. And as it slowly played, Mr. Gimbold's eyes started to widen. When the tape was finally finished, Mr. Gimbold gulped noticeably, giving me a sympathetic look. "I see..." His voice sounded just a little shaky. Then he said, "I'm very sorry that you had to deal with this Ms. Bellows. I'll see what I can do." With that, I left Mr. Gimbold's office, hoping that my hard work would pay off. I'd already earned the respect of my co-workers, though it had been very difficult fighting against all of the rumors that Betsy had spread around. Very few men tried harassing or hitting on me anymore, and even the women had become much more friendly, though I still didn't feel completely as if I belonged. Not completely at least. All that I could hope for was that all of my work would have been noticed, not just the size of my tits and Betsy's rumors. It didn't take long for Mr. Gimbold to finish talking to the three other managers and the rest of the people in my section, discovering that Betsy had been spreading the rumors about me and encouraging sexual harassment. All of that just verified that she'd had some 'irrational jealousy of my beauty', and that she'd somehow felt threatened by me. It was no surprise then when Betsy was fired right on the spot. I loved the look of complete shock that flashed over Betsy's face when she was told... none too politely. Mr. Gimbold had even threatened her with a lawsuit if she ever attempted to harass me again. However, what happened next surprised even me. Mr. Gimbold ignored normal company procedure... and put me into Betsy's old position. Apparently the other managers had told him that I'd been doing most of Betsy's work anyway... and he had definitely noticed the hints that I'd left him. This was a complete surprise since all that I'd intended was to give myself some kind of future with the company while robbing Betsy of hers. However, it was a surprise that I was more than thankful for, especially since it was the last straw for Betsy. --- It was a week since I had been fired, then almost immediately promoted, and I was sitting in Betsy's... now my office, smiling to myself as I glanced over my new workload. There was a lot to do, but not nearly as much as I used to have with my previous managerial job. The one that Betsy had stolen from me. After glancing at the door to make sure that it was closed, I looked down at myself, staring at my now familiar breasts and sexy body. It was strange since they were almost normal now, though I still had flashes of surprise upon waking with them. However, those were coming less and less. "Not bad," I mused quietly, knowing that I looked incredibly sexy, even if I was dressed rather professionally. As much as I hated to admit it, Betsy did give me a nice body. Even if I was still getting used to it. However, all the practice that I'd had stealing Betsy's dates had helped me in that very much. More than I would have wanted. Then, I thought about Betsy, feeling deep regret for the relationship that we'd once had... now lost. But that didn't last long, the memory of what she'd done to me still clinging very close. My taking all of the men she liked away from her had been very hard on her ego, but my taking her job had been more than she could handle. She had left for Mexico City just a few hours earlier, determined to get as far away from me as possible... even if temporarily. I just smiled at that, wishing that I could be there when the customs agents found the small bag of heroine stashed into one of her suitcase pockets. One that I knew she'd never look inside of. "After all," I mused aloud, grinning smugly, "she should have moved where the emergency house key was hidden." And with that, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling with a gentle smile, finally feeling free. Free from Betsy and what she'd done to me. At least as much as I could be. But more so, I was finally free to start my new life. To actually live. It might not be the one that I'd had, or one that I would have chosen, but it was now all mine... and I was going to make the best of it. There was an old saying, that hell had no fury like a woman scorned... Or like a woman angered. And like it or not, I was a woman now... and would be for the rest of my life. Now I knew just how true that saying was. No man could possibly be as spiteful... as vindictive as a woman. I learned that truth the hard way. THE END