Feminization Factory free porn video

Feminization Factory By Jennifer White I grew up in a small town in the middle of the country, where you either took up farming, worked in the one and only local factory, or you left. I had no desire to work as hard as a farmer does, for so little money, but I couldn't afford college. So I ended up working at the plant, which still employed a few hundred people. TriCounty was a small local company, which had made quality clothes for three quarters of a century. There had been some recent acquisitions, and it had grown in size to the point where it went public. But there was too much debt, and the upper management was replaced by the board. We all worried about our jobs. If the plant closed, and they moved operations overseas where the labor was cheap, what would we all do? The economy was rough, and there were only so many jobs outside the plant. We would all have to move away from our homes, which would become worthless with so many on the market. We all waited, holding our breaths as the new CEO was to be presented to us before we began work for the day. A woman in a business suit walked up to the microphone. She had graying hair, light makeup, and with a very organized look about her. Must be the new secretary. "Hello, my name is Eleanor Alfredson. I am the new CEO for TriCounty." There were gasps from the crowd. A chick running the company? A lot of the guys who worked on the line would never take orders from a skirt. This was going to be trouble. "Let me start out by saying that I know you're all worried about your jobs. I'm not a ruthless man who is looking to make the quick easy dollar. I am a woman, and I care about you and your feelings." It was not going over well with the crowd. There were murmurs and even a few boos. Factory workers didn't care about feelings! We cared about our jobs, not chick stuff! "I know that some of you are going to be uncomfortable taking orders from a woman. But trust me, in time you will find that we've forged a relationship where we're on equal footing. We'll all be the same, in it together, and that fact that I'm a woman won't matter to you." More boos, a few hisses thrown in for good measure. You don't talk to guys about feelings and relationships, then expect them to be excited! Duh. "With your futures in mind, I have a few announcements to make. First of all, I am announcing a new program, where each of you will have the chance to earn stock options in the company. If you take more ownership, you'll care more about your work, and do a better job. And we are introducing profit sharing, so that if the company does well, you will do well." That was better, and brought some murmurs of agreement. "Next, in order to take advantage of better profit margins in the market, TriState is going to change over to making only women's clothes from now on." Lots of boos. "Lastly, in order to foster an environment of teamwork, we are changing to a new unisex work uniform. Every worker in the plant will dress the same, so we'll all be on the same footing." Just like they did in those Japanese car plants in Ohio. I guess that was okay. She then told us that she would be asking for more employee input over the coming weeks, and that we'd get to vote on key issues. We would adopt new policies, and new procedures. We would use new philosophies like "Just In Time", which also came from the Japanese auto plants. Lastly, she announced the rest of her new staff. All of the senior management positions, the CIO, CFO and COO were now women! She had an entirely female management team. Oh well, maybe they knew the women's clothing industry better. As long as we got to keep our jobs, I didn't really care what we made. *** A few weeks into the new management's reign, there were a few changes which started to trickle into the plant. For one thing, they changed the color of the fork trucks to hot pink. They claimed that there was a study, which said that it was more noticeable than yellow, and would cut down on accidents. The new uniforms also turned out to be a shade of pink, which we didn't like. We also started to have group meetings with our new manager, Wendy, once a week. We were told that we were free to speak our minds, and could bring up any issues without fear of reprisal. We were afraid to speak up at first, but we soon found that they were actually willing to listen to us for a change. We kind of liked this new CEO so far. *** Three weeks later, we had a plant meeting with the Chief Financial Officer, Jasmine Williams. "Fellow employees." she said, "We have a critical decision to make. As you know, TriCounty has struggled with its finances over the past few years. Most companies in our position would start by making job cuts, but we are trying to be creative here to avoid that." There were murmurs of agreement, and even some applause. "Keeping costs in mind, we have a decision to make, which *you* are going to have the final say on. We have had some problems in the past with quality on new product lines. We come out with a new style of clothes, it passes quality checks, but once on the market, we get a high rate of returns. That costs us a lot of business, which could cost you your jobs if we don't fix it right away. "The past management team had hired an outside firm to help us. We send them samples of new garments we are going to introduce. They put them through all sorts of tests, and report back the results to us. However, we feel this is very expensive. It costs us more than it takes to employ thirty of you to renew our contract with them. "So I put it to you: we have a choice to make. We can move our testing in-house, and use the people we already have - you," (she pointed to the audience). "Or we can retain a testing firm, but be forced to lay of thirty of you." (A rain of boos fell.) "Any questions?" "What would we have to do?" asked one voice from the back. "We would ask you to field test the new garments. We would have our workers wear them during their shifts, then turn them in at the end of the day. We can't let them go outside the plant, since they're not released yet. But if they were worn during the day for a few weeks, we'd have a very good indication of wear patterns, and be able to fix problems before the public release." "So what do you say? How many want to move testing in-house?" Every single person in the place raised their hands. Who would want to vote to get rid of jobs? It could be your own job you were cutting. "Any for retaining the outside firm?" Silence. "The Ayes have it!" Loud applause. Thirty jobs saved! "This is Donna Lawrence. She will tell you about our newest product line, and what testing you will have to do." Donna was a hot babe, and got a lot of whistles from the crowd. She looked like one of our models for the product flyers. "All right," she said "before we begin, I want to remind you that as part of your contract, you signed a nondisclosure clause which says that you can't tell anyone about unreleased products. Right?" The people nodded in agreement. We had been reminded of this many times before. "Our new product line is revolutionary undergarments which are going to change the market." A model came out, a blond chick who looked like a centerfold. She was wearing a pink robe. "Behold the new UltraBody line!" The model dropped her robe, and our jaws all dropped as we gaped at her breasts. She had on a red bra and matching panties. Her tits were awesome! They had cleavage, and that slight upturn which drove men wild. Wow! She started to strut around on the stage... "This new bra is designed for comfort, as well as support and shape. It was scientifically designed to maximize the attraction effect on men. This is the sexiest bra on the market. It not only enhances cleavage, but gives the breasts a slight upturn, like a young woman in the first flower of her womanhood. Men are genetically programmed to be most attracted to women like this, because that is when they are the most fertile. So the more we can attain this breast shape, the better the attraction factor" There were howls of delight from the crowd. Woo Woo!!! "The matching panties are designed to eliminate pantylines, as well as accentuating a woman's curves for maximum femininity. They help shape and control, as well as offering a high side cut for increased attraction in the bedroom." There were lots of whistles. The model took a bow, and we had a great view from the front. She got a standing ovation! Woo Woo!!! "At the rear of the room," continued Donna (although we were more staring at the model at her side, than listening to her!), "you will find your own set. You need to put it on each morning." "Wadda you mean!" yelled out a guy from the back. "I ain't wearing no bra!" Cheers from the crowd. "But that's what you just voted for." said Donna. "I ain't no chick!" he yelled. "And I ain't dressing like one!" Again the cheers. "This ain't right!" yelled another. "Okay, we can vote again. I have a list of the thirty positions we're going to have to eliminate. Come on up here so I can see your ID, and tell you if you're on the list." Chaos ensued. Yelling, screaming, shouting. After debate back and forth, we decided that we would have to go along with their idea of testing the products in-house. We'd be in the plant all day, and nobody would see us. This was going to save our jobs too, so not too many people were anxious to be to vocal against it. You have to understand that in this town, if you lost your job at the factory, there's really no where else to go. After unemployment dries up, you have to sell your house and move. And you won't get a lot for your house in this down economy. So they had us over a barrel. We all lined up like cattle to get measured and fitted for our bras. The next day when we came in, inside each of our lockers were one of the red bras and a set of matching panties. There was also a signed picture of the hot model, which we all pinned up. But when it came time to actually put it on for the first time, I felt unsure. I didn't know if I could actually go through with it. However, Carol (who had done the fittings for our department) came in to help us the first time. "What's the matter," she said, "scared of a little piece of cloth?" "Uh... no" I said defensively. "Just because it has straps you men freak out. My five year old daughter is braver than all of you." That did it, we were cornered. Nobody wanted to admit being scared, or less brave than a little girl, so we all put them on. We all looked foolish, and nobody wanted to look at each other. I felt so silly wearing them, and I was glad to be able to put on the uniform to cover up the bra. At the end of each day, we would take off our bras, and would inspect them for wear. We had a form where we'd check off different criteria, rating different aspects. It rapidly became routine and 'normal'. After a few days they told us that since the bras were not 'bearing a load' (a P.C. way to say that we didn't have tits), they weren't getting a proper test. They handed out 'breast forms' to us, which were some kind of silicon gel shaped like a breast, and weighted like one. Mine were 38D. I wish my girlfriend had breasts that good! It felt so alien to wear them. Now I could feel the straps on my shoulders pulling down from the weight. And I had mounds sticking out in front on my chest. It made me feel meek. Me, with tits. I prayed that nobody would see me like this. But once we wore the breast forms for a few days, we sort of got used to them. Larry found a split in a seam on his bra one day, as did most everyone wearing 38C or larger over time. Since Larry was the first one to come up with the flaw, he got a $1000 bonus check! Donna said his discovery would save the company tens of thousands of dollars. Mike found that the inside of his panties were getting rough where the tag with the washing instructions were. He got $500 for that. So over the next few weeks, as they started to give us more products to wear each day, we were actually pretty eager. It was funny to hear men saying things like: "Does that look like a run in my pantyhose to you?" "The zipper on my blouse feels a little flimsy" or "If that control top works on Tony's beer gut, it will do wonderful on Chrissie!" There were several new lines of dresses, blouses and skirts, which needed testing, as well as casual wear, undergarments, and wigs from our newly purchased subsidiary. After a few weeks, I was the lucky one who found that the zipper in back of my black leather skirt kept getting jammed. When three other testers found the same problem, I got a $350 bonus. Cool! *** On Monday the next week, after we all came into work, and got dressed up, we had a team meeting. Wendy, our manager talked to us. "As you know, TriState is very committed to workplace equality and diversity. We have been getting complaints from female coworkers about discrimination. I can only tell you in the strongest possible terms that this behavior will not be tolerated. Therefore, we all have to go through a mandatory Diversity Training class this week. Our team is going first, this morning. Follow me to the training room." We all walked down the long halls to the back of the plant, where the training room was located. Our trainer was a beautiful woman named Crystal. She had long blond hair, and looked as hot as a pinup model. Where did they get all of these chicks? We all loved 'training' classes. You didn't have to work, and still got paid! And now, we also got to look at a hottie talking to us. What a deal! She started off with boring speeches about equality and diversity, then said we were going to do several exercises, including role playing to learn about diversity. "Each of you men is going to play the role of a woman. You're going to read from a script, and try to understand what it feels like to be discriminated against because of your gender. Each of the women is going to play the role of a man. While being discriminatory, try to understand and feel what the person who is suffering your lack of decency has to feel." I was paired with Cindi. She read to me, and I answered back from the script. "Nice tits babe." she said. "Let's get a good look at 'em. I'd love to get into your pants!" "Oh, please leave me alone." I read. "But you're such a hot chick. How'd a girl like you end up in a place like this?" "I'm a woman for your information," I replied. "And I have rights too. You don't get to take advantage of me just because I'm pretty and female!" And so forth. After a few hours of going through this, I really had a better appreciation of how a woman felt at being ogled at and hit on. I even took down the pinups from my locker at the end of the day. I didn't realize what it was like for them for us to treat them that way. *** It was now six months after the women took over the company. Donna, the CFO, reported that we were doing great. Profits were up 35%, and revenues from the new products were looking promising. TriState had just purchased a small cosmetics formulation lab, and was going to be coming out with a new line of cosmetics, to provide a complete shopping experience to our customers. So of course, we voted to do the product testing in-house, rather than farming it out. We'd have to start wearing makeup every day, but we all looked forward to the money if we found any flaws. And the profit sharing checks, once the money started rolling in. In fact, TriState was planning on offering makeovers at the stores, so they started to bring in the beauticians who were going to perform the makeovers, for training. Every day when we would arrive, a professional beautician would apply our makeup, and try to teach us about what colors worked for us, and techniques to use, just as the would for their customers. "Your eyebrows are very bushy." said Anne, my beautician for the day. "You'd look much nicer if we waxed them back a bit." I agreed, as long as she didn't take too much off. Well, it turns out that since she was newer, she did take off too much, and I ended up with thin eyebrows, just like a woman. "Oops, I'm sorry." she said. "I guess I need more practice." So I was stuck with the eyebrows until they grew back in. They also were doing our nails, and every day we'd get different colors to match our outfits. I was learning how to coordinate colors and how to put together an outfit. It was hard! How did women do this every day? *** On Monday, Sarah, the plant manager, asked if there were any issues. There were a couple of complaints that workers had injured their ankles, bumping into the rail at the bottom. "We need to move them all so that we don't hit our ankles on them." It was decided that with all the miles of railing on the lines, it would be very expensive. Sarah promised to look into different work shoes. It was two weeks later when the new shoes came in. They turned out to be more like a women's pump, with a higher heel, so that the ankle would now be safely above the rail. They were also more fashionable, so that our overall outfit looked nicer. Everything was going well, except when payday came, there was a slight problem. All of our paychecks were for the right amount, but all of our names were preceded by "Miss", "Mrs." or "Ms.". We showed our manager, Wendy. She went up through the bosses, and came back with the answer: we had a new computer system in the front office, and that was just a glitch which was going to be fixed as soon as possible. "Don't worry about it." she said. "We have our computer processing department working on it." "But the computer thinks we're women." said Jack. "Maybe it sees how you're dressing these days." said Bill, which got a good laugh out of everyone. One of my coworkers was a pretty girl named Gina. She had long black hair, a really cute face, great curves, nice bust line. She was smart too, making her really in demand. Every guy in the plant had been chasing her as long as she had worked there. I'd known her since high school, and had tried more times than I can count to get her to go out with me, but I never had any luck. One day at lunch, she sat at the table with me, and we had a great talk. "I know this sounds funny," she said, "But now that you're dressed up like a woman, I feel that I've really gotten to know you. Before, I looked at you like everyone else; a wolf ogling me, undressing me with your eyes. But now that we dress the same, and you act so much nicer, I think I'd like to accept your proposal you've been asking me for all these years. Let's go out to dinner Friday." My heart leaped. The girl of my dreams, and she asked me out! "That would be wonderful!" I said. "I'll make reservations for us." "I already did," she replied, "at Vincent's Ristorante". It was a fancier place with dim lighting and great service. It was a 30 minute drive, two towns over, but worth the trip. Wow, she must really think something of me to have gone through the trouble to do all that. "But I have one thing to ask you," she continued, "Would you dress up for the date like you are now?" "I... I don't know. Going out in public like this?" "Well, if you're that interested, you'd be willing to do this for me." Gina said. "Okay." I said, not wanting to blow my chance. "I'll do it, for you." "Great!" she replied. "I'll pick you up at 6:30. Wear that nice red dress you had on last week Thursday." She got up and left, giving me a glance over her shoulder, and a flirty smile. I smiled back and winked. Wow, this was going to be an experience. I didn't know why she was so insistent on me going out with her dressed like a woman, but if that's what it took, I'd do it. I had spent the better part of my life trying to get her to go out with me. Now was my chance. It was hard to concentrate on work the rest of the day. I was constantly thinking of her. I changed to a wig that was more like her hair, and tried to get myself looking more like her. I wanted to understand what she was thinking, so I tried to be as close to her in my thoughts as possible. There were two more changes at work that week, but I didn't even really care about them, with Gina in my thoughts so much. First of all, the women at the plant had always complained about how long the lines were in the ladies room when we were on break, compared to the short line in the men's room. We came in one day, and found out that to fix the situation, they had remodeled, and we now had just one room for all the workers. We all wore dresses, skirts, pantyhose and such to work, so we all needed stalls. We all primped and preened our hair and makeup on our breaks, so we needed lots of sinks and mirrors. So one large bathroom for all was an ideal solution. So now we just had one large ladies room for everyone to use. The other change was that because summer was getting on, and it was hot, the smell in the plant wasn't always the nicest. So we started adding perfume to the list of items we would put on every morning. So instead of smelling like work and sweat, we now had a nice floral scent hovering over the plant. As a result, the products coming off the lines were nicer smelling, which would make the customers happier. Friday dragged on forever, but once it was done, I didn't shower at work. I grabbed the dress I was going to wear that night. It was red, so I grabbed a red bra and matching panties. Then I got my car keys out of my purse, and headed home. I got home, showered, shaved my legs, then dressed up in my nice outfit. I did my own makeup, by now having mastered the techniques. I put on my 'Gina' wig, and made some little adjustments. I had bought a nice pair of pumps at the company store, which matched the outfit. I even painted my toenails to match, since they were open toed shoes. She was a woman, so she would notice all the little things I did for her to prepare for the date. Men never noticed all the work a woman goes through to prepare. I smiled, knowing already that it would please her. I put on some nice perfume, a necklace and earrings I had bought at the mall, then I sat down to read Redbook while I waited for Gina to arrive. She was prompt, and I got into her black VW Jetta, as we tore down the highway going to dinner. We had a great evening, with lively conversation on a variety of topics. We had quite a few guys try to hit on us, and several of them asked if we were sisters! I guess it was my hair, and the fact that I had been trying to cop her look all week. I was floating on air the whole time, but when the evening finally ended and she took me home, I was exhausted. It was such a great date, and we ended up kissing and hugging good bye. We promised each other that we'd do it again as soon as possible. It was more than I could have hoped for. "Promise you'll call me." I said. "I will babe." she replied, and give me one last quick kiss good bye. From then on, Gina and I were close friends. We ate lunch every day, hung out a couple of times a week, and had real dates on weekends. The only catch was the I had to keep dressing like a girl. I was afraid to ask her why though, I didn't want it to end. It was the best experience of my life. Back at the plant, things were running smoothly. Production and profits were way up, and our in-house product testing was a great success. They have us more and more things to wear, and we all eagerly accepted. One day Wendy told us that they had fixed the computer system, we would all see our proper names on the next paycheck. But when Friday rolled around, things got worse rather than better. Besides having "Miss" in front of my name, they also had my first name down as "Karen". The same computer messed up other things too, because Monday my name tag also had me as Karen. We had to wear a tag for security purposes, so I was stuck with it. However, when Gina saw me, she took to it right away. "Karen!" she gushed, "You look wonderful today. I love your hair!" "Gina!" I replied, "It's so great to see you. Your outfit looks nice. Are those new shoes?" "Yes, I got them at the mall last week. You should come with me Karen. There's a pair you'd love." So she picked up right away with my female name. In fact, all the women at the plant called me Karen, so I started to get used to it at work. Having a female name did have one advantage though; when the company golf league started up that Tuesday, I was down as a woman on the sheet, so I got to tee off from the red tees. Gina and I had gone shopping, so I had a white golf skirt, with a little bit of pink in the trim. I got a matching sleeveless collared shirt with pink strips, as well as a visor. It was fun golfing with the girls, a lot more social than it had been with the men. I had a much better time. In fact, the score didn't matter as much as the conversation, so there was no pressure. And I got to play with Gina. On Thursday, Wendy came to me for a talk. "Karen, you have a great record with TriState. I wanted you to know that you are being considered for a management position." I was excited. My big chance to move up in the world. "As you know," she continued, "most of our lower level managers are still men. We want to reach gender equality here, so I'll let you in on a little secret. If you were to register with the state as being female, it would greatly increase your chances." "But how would I do that?" I asked. "Here's a form I have. I knew this would come up, so I wanted you to get a head start. Don't tell anyone I gave you this info though, I would get in trouble. I just want to see you get a good break, and this is your chance. Get breasts, and you'll be forewoman in no time." It was so much like a woman to do that, to be caring about someone else. Most men in the corporate world are so concerned only about themselves. But women tend to think of other people too. In the pile of papers Wendy gave me was a form to register my new gender with the state. There was also a photocopy of a section of the company handbook, showing that certain operations were covered in full by our medical benefits. It said I could get full gender reassignment surgery for free. I didn't know what to do, so I went over to Gina's that night to talk it over. She was very supportive, and in fact encouraged me. "This is what you've always wanted, a chance to get into management. Once you're there, they'll pay for your college so you can get your degree. You can go far. I think you should do this." "But what about us?" I asked. "Karen: the more feminine you've become, the more I've fallen in love with you. I love you when you act like a woman. I think you've shown me that inside, I really am a lesbian. Go ahead, become a woman. If you do, I'll marry you." *** So now I had to do some thinking. Become female, get promoted, and marry the girl of my dreams. Or stay a man, alone, in a low level position. How could I say no? I filled in the forms, mailed them in, and told Wendy I was ready. She said that if you're going to be a manager, the first thing you need to do is to work at many different various jobs at the plant. That way, you get a better sense of how it all goes together, not just your old department. The first one I was assigned to was as a waitress at the executive cafeteria. I had to wear an outfit that wasn't far from a French maid's dress. It was strange serving all women executives. Here I was, a man, wearing a dress, serving women. But I knew my hard work was paying off, because they made some comments to me on how well I was doing, and how they were going to keep track of my progress. "You've got the right material we're looking for." said one upper manager. "Some day you could make something of yourself." said another. I smiled and curtsied, like I had been taught. "Karen, please get me some more tea." said Donna. "Yes Maam!" I replied, and went off to the kitchen. This was great! Next, I spent a week as a receptionist. This was a position where you face the public every day, so you need to be polite, perky and being pretty doesn't hurt. An angry supplier is much less prone to resort to yelling at a pretty blond than they are to a gruff man. So the girls in that area taught me how to be perky, how to project an air of friendliness to the customers, but how to also keep my distance. "The trick," said Patricia, "is to make the men think that you're really hot, and that you're the one person the world revolves around. But you also have to project an air of not caring for them, keeping them at arms distance, yet being friendly. If they think they can get you into bed, they think they have you in their control. So you can flirt with them to perk their interest, but don't let them get any hopes up. You need to shoot them down, to keep them in their little place, as weak inferior men. They know that we are the ones who can get things done for them, or lose a file so they get screwed. We have the power. We're in control. We just let them prance about like little dogs, trying to please us, hoping for a favor." Wow! I never realized all that. No wonder I'd seen so many aloof receptionists, filing their nails, acting like they could care less if I had to wait in line an hour. "Oh yeah," added Veronica, "don't forget these." She handed me two plastic rubber rings with protruding bulges. "What are these?" I asked. "They're fake nipples. You put them on the outside of your bra, so men think they're seeing your nipples erect. Its a sign of sexual arousal, which makes the men think you're hot for them. That really works them up. Here, let me show you how to put them on." She undid the top four buttons on my blouse, attached the fake nipples, and buttoned up just two of them (to show a little more). Looking in the mirror, you could see the outline of nipples under my blouse. It really did make it look like I was an aroused woman. Cool. I ended up loving that job the best yet. If management didn't pan out, I'd try to transfer over here full time. Over the rest of the months I had several other jobs lined up where I'd have to learn what the girls did day to day. However, I was warned about the last one on the list which I'd have to do. Wendy and I had lunch together, and she discussed the details. "Karen, you've come a long way. Remember how we talked about you registering with the state as being female?" "Yes." I replied. "Well, soon you'll have to go in to see them, get your new photo ID, get your name officially changed, and so on." "Sounds good." I said. "From past experience, I can tell you one thing. If you show up as you are now, they may reject you, and it would be six months before you could apply again." "But then I'd have to wait to get my promotion..." I said "That's right. That's why I think you should go see Dr. Greenbaum this week. You can make an appointment for next Monday to get your breast implants. Then when you go in for your application, you'll easily pass." I thanked her for her advice, and called the doctor right away. She had said that the company would pay for the surgery, so it wasn't going to cost me anything. They were also going to do some laser hair removal, which was permanent. That way, my chest and back would be hairless. I was shaving it now, or using Nair, but the thought of permanent removal of all that unwanted hair was very exciting. *** On Monday, I went in at 8:00am as planned, the first appointment of the day. They washed me up for surgery, put me on the cart, and rolled me into the operating room. By that time, the drugs were kicking in, so I was calm and relaxed. The last thing I remembered was them putting the gas mask on me, then blackness. I woke up laying on my back, feeling weak and sore. I glanced down to my chest, and could see it bulging upward, but it was covered in gauze bandages, so I couldn't really see my breasts yet. There would be time though. I went back to sleep... It took several days to recover to the point where I could take off the bandages and move around without pain. I hadn't counted on the pain of recovery, but the results were well worth it. I now had a wonderful pair of 38Ds on my body. It was a wonderful feeling the first time I put on a bra without needing breast forms to fill it out. To see real cleavage in between, and real boobs. It opened up so many options for how I could dress. At last, I could wear plunging v-necks, halter tops, go bra-less (although the doctor said I'd have to wait a few more weeks before trying that). It was wonderful. So now when I went to get my new drivers license, voting card, and other IDs with my new female identity, all it took was one look at my breasts, and They stamped their approval. Wendy told me that I looked lovely, and prepared me For the next step. "As a manager, you'll have to manage both men and women. In order to be effective in managing women, you need to understand us better. I'm sending you off for two weeks of management training, so you can learn how to deal with situations." I was excited, and could hardly wait as I flew to Minneapolis for my training. I checked into the hotel, had a light dinner, and got a good night's sleep to be ready for the first day. I was sad to leave Gina behind, but she was going to fly in for the weekend to join me. I got up at 6:30 am on Monday. I showered, shaved my legs (the only place other than my head where I still had hair growing now). By this time, I had abandoned the wig, since my own real hair was getting long enough. I had to put on my makeup, do my hair, put on my jewelry, get dressed up. Being a woman took quite a bit of work! But it was fun. I followed the directions to the office center where the training was. The classroom held 16 seats, all large comfortable chairs behind long tables. I looked around the room, and say that all 15 of my classmates were like me: a man on the way to becoming female. I wondered what we were going to do. "Hello class, I am Tina. I will be your trainer. We have a lot of work to do, so lets start out by going around, saying who you are, and what you hope to get out of the class." It turned out that we were from all over the country. We were in various stages of our change. For example, almost half the class was taking female hormones, four of us had breast implants, and Louise had even undergone full surgery. "You are going to learn how to think like real women, and feel like real women." said Tina. "What's the one thing which makes a woman a real woman?" "Beauty." said one student. "Grace." said another. "A pussy!" shouted a third. "Wrong!" replied Tina. "A woman is a real woman when she can fulfill her deepest feminine desire, which is to bear and nurture children. You all don't have the right plumbing to do this, so you are lacking our one true universal bond. This week we are going to simulate the experience, so you learn what it really means." We started out by each getting a flesh colored pouch, which attaches to the stomach, with a band going across the back. We each were given a small five pound blob to put inside. "This will simulate the beginning, when you're just starting to swell up a bit. As we move day by day, we'll go to bigger and bigger sizes. You must wear this 24 hours a day, and never ever take it off until I give you the okay." We were given maternity dresses which we'd need in the upcoming days, once we got too big for our current clothes. Then we moved to the room in back to put on our 'wombs'. Next, we had half a day of voice training, learning to talk in high pitched feminine sounding voices. There were exercises to do, and scripts to read from, all with female phrases to repeat to each other (girl talk). After lunch, we all changed into tights and leotards, and did 2 hours of ballet to learn grace. Then after a quick shower (the 'womb' was water tight), it was a class on feminism and female thought. Next, we watched a 'chick flick', and discussed it afterwards. We focused on what the women in the film were feeling in different scenes, and tried to sympathize with them. "When a person watches a film, they identify with a character, and see themselves as experiencing what their film idol does. After watching "Apollo 13", you feel like you've gone to the moon. After seeing 'Saving Private Ryan', you feel like you landed at Normandy." There were nods of agreement. "The real trick, is to find a woman in the film, and see yourself as her. When she is anxiously waiting for her lover to return from a dangerous trip, try to feel the anxiety she feels. Or when she beams with pride at the accomplishments of her daughter, put yourself in her place and feel what its like to have your baby grow up and be successful. See yourself as her. See the film through her eyes." We made sure to do that every day from then on, during the films. We broke for dinner, but we were given homework: three women's magazines and a Gloria Steinem book. We would get a heavy load of homework every night. On day two, the moved us to a bigger, heavier weights inside. By the end of the week, we had a full weight inside, the size and weight of a real pregnant woman. All that weight was giving us back pains, and the size made it cumbersome to do simple normal tasks. But we all knew it was a wonderful experience, and that we were getting just a small sampling of what real women had to go through for nine whole months. When we broke for the weekend on Friday, Tina reminded us not to take off our wombs all weekend, and that we would move to the birth stage on Monday. I hurried off to the airport to pick up Gina. When she saw me, she was shocked. "Why you've put on some weight. Eating well?" We laughed. I talked with her every night for hours, and she had expected to find me pregnant when she arrived. It was still so different for her to see me with the look of a pregnant woman. But we had a wonderful weekend of shopping, going to art museums, and going out to eat. Sunday came around all too soon, and she had to go home. She bought me a teddy bear at the airport gift shop, which I promised to keep on my pillow every night, and think of her. Some of our shopping was at the Mall of America, where we each bought lots of cool clothes, shoes, accessories, and a matching set of earrings. I also had some assignments from the class: I needed to buy three baby outfits, diapers, and a baby carrier. We found a few baby stores, and picked out some nice ones. A woman in the baby store touched my stomach and asked: "When's the blessed event?" I almost cried! Monday was my 'due date', and I was ready to give birth. Just a weekend of going through the rigors of carrying that much weight, the bulk, not being able to sleep comfortably... it gave me such an appreciation for women. But now was the time for labor. "Before we begin this day, I want to give any of you a chance to back out." said Tina. "You're going to reach a point of no return. We're going to turn something on inside of you, and once its on, you cannot shut it off. You are going to open yourself to a new feminine perspective, and if you go through with your training today, it will stay with you *forever*." I certainly didn't back down, although two others did drop out. Of those who stayed, we each got a private room, and were hooked up to a device with several electrodes. "This will simulate contractions by stimulating your nerves." said Tina. "It will hurt a bit, but believe a mother of three: this is nothing compared to real childbirth. You won't even get a fraction of the pain that a real woman goes through." My first contraction came at 9:30am. It was brief and uncomfortable, but not painful. Over the next three hours though, they became more frequent and finally very painful. I was lying on my back on a medical gurney, with my legs spread apart in the stirrups. I had on just a skimpy hospital gown, but with a cloth covering my legs. Just like any pregnant woman in labor. As the contractions become closer together and more intense, I was sweating. It was hard! Now the 'nurse' called the doctor in since I was close. They told me I was fully dilated, and it was time to start. The doctor, a woman, spread my legs as far apart as they would go, and reached in between my legs. "Push" she said, "as hard as you can. Remember your Kegal breathing! 1, 2, 3!" This repeated several times. At long last, when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, I felt the pressure on my stomach go down, and felt a warm gush between my legs. "Congratulations!" said the doctor, "you have a healthy baby girl!" She held up to me a realistic looking baby doll, which was covered in a thick wet fluid, which the nurse was wiping off. They gave her to me to hold, and I did, cradling her in my arms. The doll had electronics, and made different noises. I just beamed. "Here comes the placenta." said the doctor, and I could feel the pouch which had been attached to me for so long pulling away. At last they loosened the leg braces, so my legs could be unspread. They were sore! I ached all over. The nurse took the baby, and gave me a pill, which put me to sleep. I had deep peaceful dreams. When I awoke, it was just past noon. I was still in a bed, with the baby doll in a baby bed just to the side. "Don't you want to hold her again?" asked the nurse. I agreed, and held her tight to my breasts. She was mine! By two, we were all back in the classroom to resume our lessons. In real life, we'd need days to recover, but there wasn't time for that. Those of us who had stayed and had worked through the birth experience now had a common bond. A bond like real women have to each other. We talked, and compared how it felt, and what we had gone through. We all had our dolls in carriers by our desks. "Okay class," said Tina, "time to go hit the pool for some aquarobics. Grab a swimsuit by the door on the way out." The class all got up, and walked out the door, picking out a good color for the one-piece suit from the box on the table. I was near the front, so I was one of the last ones out of the room. After I stood up, I grabbed the carrier with baby Terri, and walked over to the swimsuit box, which was down to just a black or a yellow suit. "Hold it class, come back in here now." said Tina angrily. We all came back in and sat down. I carefully laid Terri back on the table. "You all just gave birth, so why is it that only Karen has enough maternal instinct to take her baby with her? The rest of you would just abandon your child? Who you just carried for nine months? And went through painful labor to give birth to?" The class hung their heads in shame. I didn't gloat, I just felt sorry for them. Tina continued to rip into them, and I felt uncomfortable on how harsh she was. "Please," I said, "don't be mean to my friends. Maybe they thought you were providing a sitter while we exercise." Tina smiled at me. "You're acting just like a woman. You feel their pain, and you're being considerate, trying to help. At least the lessons are sinking in for some of you!" Class was like boot camp from then on, with a harsh rigorous schedule. Tina told us that since we didn't have the privilege of having female genes, it would take behavior modification training to get us to think and act like women. We went home exhausted. But all night long, when I tried to sleep, baby Terri kept waking me up. She would make crying noises. If I held her, or held her to my breast, she would quiet right down. Otherwise, she would howl surprisingly loud. So by morning, I was bleary eyed and worn out. When we came to class in the morning, Tina had us leave the babies in the daycare center, while we did some class work. When we came back to the classroom, the babies were all mixed up, with the wrong ones at the wrong desks. All of them were crying. I recognized Terri's voice right away, and picked her up. It took about 10 minutes to get everyone straightened out on which baby went with which mother. "Class," said Tina, "I want to explain something to you. In a woman's genes, there is something I call 'Mother Mode'. When Mother Mode is turned on, a woman starts to care for her baby more than anything. She hears the baby crying, and comes running, no matter what time, day or night. She is attuned to the voice of her baby, so that no matter what, she comes to its aid." "Last night, your babies all cried. Only three of you consistently got up to comfort them. Two of you tried to quiet the noise by putting a pillow over it! You baby would be dead in real life! If you were in Mother Mode, you would have held your baby, and let it try to breast feed from you." We all looked around. I knew I was one of the ones who had passed the test. It was almost easy to pick out 'Roberta' as one of the ones who failed. She got defensive, and said: "What, you're spying on us now?" "Each baby has a computer inside. We downloaded the results of the past day while you were practicing your ballet. And you Roberta, would have a dead baby if it was real. Shame on you." We all bowed our heads, not wanting to upset Tina any further. "Now as I was saying," she continued, "In men's DNA, there is only a trace of the Mother Mode. A man wants to run instinctively once he's impregnated a woman. But with the right environment, and perhaps the use of hormones, we can often trigger this mode in a man too. And once it has been turned on, watch out! That man will now be more female than male inside. Once the feminine instincts have been unleashed, the feminine thoughts, feelings, and urges will soon follow. Karen, I think you might already be female inside. Crystal, you and Tammy will be girls soon too." Me? Female already? No way! Cool! "The rest of you have a few days to catch up. I want each and every one of you to walk out of here thinking of yourselves as a woman. Your life as men is over. You've passed the point of no return. You are women forever now. You are girls." I could only think to myself: "I'm a girl! I'm a girl!" I smiled and held Terri tight. The rest of the week seemed to fly by, although we worked hard. There was so much to learn, and so little time. There is no way you can learn everything there is to know about being a woman in just two weeks. There are something innate to women which men can never touch, because we're programmed wrong in the genes. And there are some cultural things, which take a lifetime to learn. We as men weren't lucky enough to get to grow up as little girls, so we missed out on a lot of things. The two weeks really opened my eyes, but what Tina told us at the end really rang true. "Class, you've come a long way in just two weeks, but it will take a lifetime of learning for you to truly gain femininity. The best thing you can do is to find a woman or a girlfriend who you can be close to, and let her continue to teach you. Tell her you want her to help mold you and shape you. Obey her every command, do everything she tells you. Only in that way can you Ever come close to the one true goal in your heart: being a woman." When we walked out the door, I took baby Terri with me, but we were told that we had to leave our babies for the next batch of women to be, who were coming in on Monday. I cried, because I felt such an emotional attachment to her. It was hard! They gave me some pictures of me holding her just after giving birth, and pictures of us smiling together in class. I would cherish those forever. I wiped my tears up, took the bus to the airport, and went to my plane home. I had some time to do some serious thinking. In my heart, I really felt like I was female, but I knew Tina was right, and I would need Gina's help. I had three priorities in my mind for my life: First: I wanted to marry Gina, as we had talked about. I would do as Tina suggested, and let her mold me into a woman. Second: More than anything, having baby Terri made me realize that I had an inner need to nurture a child. After we married, we would adopt a poor orphaned baby, then raise and nurture her. Third: I just had to be a woman. I would sign up for surgery as soon as possible, and get the awful growth between my legs removed. It just didn't feel right being there! I would get a doctor to cure me. *** I spent the whole weekend with Gina, and told her that my heart was hers, and that I needed her to help me become a woman. "I love you," I said, "and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You're so lucky to have been born female. I need you help." "What can I do for you my love?" she asked. "I want you to help me keep learning about being a woman. Teach me. Show me what to do. I need you to mold me, train me, educate me." Gina agreed to help me. She gave me an old sundress of hers, and had me do the "women's work" of the house. I washed and ironed the clothes, did the floors, vacuumed, weeded the flower beds, changed the bed sheets and linens, cooked meals, dusted and mopped. I was *so* lucky to have someone understanding like her who would help me like this. And I was *so* happy to be able to get to learn from her. She was just so nice to me! I was truly a lucky girl. Back at work Monday, I noticed some things were different since I had gone to training. Before, I had thought of myself as feminine, because I was wearing a dress, and hit boobs. But now when I was with my male coworkers, they seemed so far removed from me. The way they walked, talked and even how they thought seemed different from me. They were men still. They were partly feminized, but they were men. I didn't feel like I belong among them anymore. I felt at home however with the real women at work. I could communicate with them so much better. "What's with you," asked Brad, "you're acting just like a chick!" "For your information, I *am* a chick!" I replied, and marched off angrily. How dare he question my femaleness? But they were just men. Men didn't have feelings like we did, and didn't care about others, just their piggish selves. My manager Wendy said I was the star pupil of the class, and she showed me that my name was on the list of employees recommended for manager. I really didn't care so much now whether I made it or not. I had all I needed with Gina, our upcoming wedding, and the baby we planned to adopt. I might quit and become a "stay at home mother" anyway. The baby would be my priority, not work anymore. Thursday I found myself in the doctors office, waiting for the operation to begin for my surgery. Once they removed those awful growths between my legs, I'd be free... Epilogue: In downtown Manhattan, in a penthouse suite overlooking central park, four women met in a darkened room, around a table. "How is project ReGen coming along?" asked the older lady, clearly the leader of the group. "The Midville plant has been fully feminized." responded Sarah Jackson, the plant manager, who was in town for 'corporate meetings'. "What are the results?" asked a third woman at the table. "Profits are up 147%. Productivity is up 85%. Since we feminized the men, there have been no union grievances, no fights, no suspensions. Without testosterone running the show, they have calmed down. Once we got them into skirts and bras, we were able to tame them. The female hormones in the fabric absorbed into their bloodstreams as we planned. Some have really taken to their feminization. Several of them have even undergone gender reassignment surgery. It has been a great success." "Excellent!" said the old lady. "I think we're ready to roll this out to a few large plants in Detroit and Cleveland next. Soon UAW will stand for United As Women!" All four shared a laugh at the joke. "Are we ready for the next targets?" she continued. "Yes." said the fourth woman, quiet until now. "We have three senators and seventeen house members now. They wear dresses at night, and bras under their suits during the day. They will vote however their wives instruct them. Our legislation will pass now." "Good. And how about the beef plants?" "We've improved the formulations, so more of the estrogens get absorbed when the meat is eaten. Just think: every boy eating a McDonald's burger is getting a healthy does of female sex hormones. Adds for fast food restaurants are really adds for feminization now. And it even starts the little girls developing earlier." "Great work. What else?" "There are three more films coming out from Hollywood this year with men in dresses. It is getting to the point where it now seems 'normal' in film. Once we've desensitized every man to wearing women's clothes, they'll more readily accept their new wardrobes. Skirts and halter tops will soon come out for men, and they will wear them by the millions, and clamor for more." "You have all done a great job. We can all look forward to the day in the near future when we will outlaw maleness, and feminize the entire country, then the world..."