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Women In The News By Jennifer White A new business opened it's doors in the spring of last year, in my home town. It was called a 'transformation clinic', with the mission of turning men into women. Not to have surgery mind you, and become real women, but to take a man, and teach him how to dress up like a girl, wear makeup, wigs, falsies and everything. They had their own on-site supply of accessories, so a man could come in wearing a business suit, and walk out fully femmed. Or course, the neighbors were outraged that such a business was in their back yard. The men howled in protest, because they were afraid that the customers were going to be gays, which of course scared and intimidated them. Women protested too, afraid that somehow this place would take their men away from them. All sorts of false accusations were leveled against the place, so they were constantly fighting off building inspectors and such. There were also rumors of unauthorized credit card transactions, but nothing had been proven yet. Based on some of the rumors of illegal drugs and unlicensed surgery, my editor put me on the case. You see, I work for The Tribune, and I specialize in investigative journalism. It was I who uncovered the corruption at the county road department. I was the one who found out that the food stand in the airport was owned by the brother-in-law of the head of the airport commission, and that he got his contract without competitive bids. I was the one they sent after the hard cases. So I got this assignment too. *** I knew, based on my knowledge of how to get information out of people, that a frontal attack was not going to work here. If I barged in, waving my press credentials, I would get shut out, and never find a thing. But since I worked for the paper, my face was unknown, so unlike my TV colleagues, I was able to just walk in, and pretend I was a perspective client. But of course, like any good journalist, before I began the undercover part of my assignment, I needed to do some background research. That's where the World Wide Web comes in so handy! Things, which would have taken weeks to find just 10 years ago, are right there a Yahoo search away. I searched on feminization (and found that our British cousins call if feminisation), but much of what I found was pornographic. I learned of something called "forced feminization", and found and found many interesting web sites. I learned many things, such as the fact that most men who are into the scene are actually heterosexual, and just like to crossdress or be a woman as a fetish. Only a very small fraction of them ever undergo gender reassignment surgery. Interesting! On a whim, I did a search on "be a girl", and found lots of good web sites, although I had to filter out 'scouts', since that was something which came up often in the Girl Scouts' web sites. It was then that I stumbled upon a few sites, which had archives of stories of transformations. There were literally thousands of stories at each site. This told me that I was not looking at a small fringe group, but a movement of some size. There must have been enough of these people to keep a business going in town, so there had to be a lot more men and women who enjoyed this, then would admit it in public. I spent two days reading through stories on the web sites, so I could gain an understanding of what drove these people, what turned them on, and what made them tick. It seemed to me that one key aspect, which was common, was a loss of control. My suspicion is that these men liked the idea of giving up control of everything, and letting someone else, usually a woman, control their destiny, at least for a while. That is why I believed that so many of the stories involved the men not having any choice in the matter, due to blackmail, physical pain (or being tied up), their minds being taken over by an outside force, or even magic. And these seemed to be the sort of men who would frequent an establishment like this one. At last I felt I was ready to infiltrate the clinic. *** I had my staff prepare for me some false credentials. While I wasn't a household name like Woodward and Bernstein, there was always the chance that they would recognize my name from The Tribune, so I needed an alias. Armed with drivers license, credit cards, and other little authentic looking items of ID, I headed out. The clinic had a nondescript looking lobby area, with a receptionist (who definitely was a *real* female!), and a door leading to the back. There were several chairs in the waiting area. She smiled, and gave me an application to fill out, since I was a new client. I entered the data of my name, address, phone number, and so on. Then there was a checklist of fetishes, and turn- ons. Based on the stories I had read, I selected several of them: forced feminization, crossdressing, long nails, and women's shoes. Then there was a section asking when I had first crossdressed, if I ever wore women's clothes when I was alone, do I take hormones, have I seriously considered having surgery, and so on. I filled them in, pretending I was into the scene, based on what I had read in the stories. Lastly, there was a section on my medical history, which I thought was strange to have along with the other information. But I filled it in, based on my own background. When I was done, I handed the receptionist the clipboard, and sat back down. I leafed through Cosmo and YM, pretending to be interested, while I took mental notes, and kept an eye on the place. I noted a security camera in the corner, so I knew I was being watched. I also noticed that she created a file for me, and put it in a large cabinet, which must have held hundreds of others. If there were fraud and deception, I would need to find a way to get into that cabinet, and get some names to check out. My mind raced. After a while, a pretty young woman dressed in a white nurses outfit called my name and had me follow her through the door. She used a security badge on the proximity reader to get the door to open. This was not a place where I would easily be able to sneak in and poke around. Between the camera and the prox-reader, security was tight. She took me to a room, which had a small sofa, a desk, and a television. She asked me to wait. After just a few minutes, another woman came in, dressed smartly in a business suit. She sat at the desk, and waved me to sit on the couch. "Hello, I am Doctor Weiss. Welcome to the clinic." "Thank you." I said. "Jason Laddis. Nice to meet you." "Yes Mr. Laddis. I see from your application here, that you are interested in our services." "That is correct. But to tell you the truth, I'm a little scared. I mean, if anyone ever finds out I was here..." "Oh, don't worry. We have very strict security, and strict rules on disclosure. I am a licensed medical doctor, so anything which goes on here fits under the doctor-client relationship, and must be kept secret by law. Does that help ease your mind?" "Yes, that is good to know." "Now before we begin, we need to first do a few tests. We don't want any lawsuits, so I first need to do a physical on you. If you are healthy, then we will do a psychological exam. We don't want anyone suffering from paranoia, schizophrenia, or other serious problems to try this, because it does place a heavy psychological burden on the client." "Tell me about it." I said, pretending to be worried, be secretly impressed that they took such special care. This didn't sound like the typical scam, which was usually a fly-by-night way of getting quick money, then sneaking out at night with the loot. This was sounding more and more like a legitimate business. I went through the physical with flying colors. I ran regularly, so I wasn't afraid of finding anything there. They then administered a psychological test, which was interesting to take, but I couldn't tell how anyone would discover anything based on answering the type of questions they gave me. I waited half an hour after completing the exams, before Dr. Weiss returned to the room. "Well Mr. Laddis, everything checks out physically. You are a very healthy man." "Thanks!" I blurted out. I had to be careful, I didn't want to say something again without thinking. I might blow my cover. "You also did well on the psychological exam, with one exception." "What's that?" I asked. "Well, the human mind differs greatly from person to person, but there are some things which tend to be the same in people of certain types. For example, there is a male- female continuum of personality. In other words, some people test out as having very female thought patterns. Some test out as very male. Most test out somewhere in the middle. With the clients we get here, most tend to be 10-30 percent on the feminine side of the median. But you tested out just to the male side. Is there something you're not telling me?" I had to use all of my years of training and experience not to flinch and give myself away. But I had been through worse than this. I have had guns pointed at me. I had my family threatened. I held it together through all that. I then remembered something I read in one of the stories on- line, and pretended that I was like that person. "Well, there is one thing," I lied. "You see, when I'm dressed up as a girl, my personality seems to change. I bet if I retook your test wearing a skirt, I would come out as almost 100% female. But when I dress up as a man, I feel so stiffed. I only feel free when I'm a girl." "Ah then, that is not such an unheard of condition. I have not seen any patients for a long time with this, but I have read about it in the journals. Go on." "I think my male side likes to dominate my personality, so that's why I put forced feminization on the sheet. He needs something to force him to back down, so that my female side can emerge." That sounded convincing. She seemed to buy it. "Alright, we can begin then. I just wanted to make sure this was right for you, and for us. Now tell me, do you really want to *be* a woman? If there was a magic potion which would really transform you, and you had it here in front of you to drink, would you do it?" Now this sounded like something to investigate for the story! But I didn't want to sound too far out of my profile. Did they have such a potion, or was this more of a test? "I don't know," I said. "I like being a woman, but I don't know what I would do if there was a magic potion." "How about surgery? Would you consider going under the knife, and waking up with breasts and female genitals?" "No, I don't want to go that route." I said. "Good. I was just checking. You see, if a man truly wants to be a woman, then this is not what he wants. He needs to find a clinic where they do surgeries, and do real transformations. Here, we only enable a man to create the *illusion* that he is female." "That's what I want." I said, disappointed that my hunch was another dead end. "Okay, lets get started." she said, with a smile on her face. *** After signing an agreement for services, with a cost of $1000 for a membership, plus a monthly fee, I could use the services of the clinic. The company was paying for all this on the credit card, so I didn't mind. The form also said that anything I needed like clothes, wigs, etc. were available for purchase there on-site. It was so the men wouldn't have to be embarrassed buying women's clothes in public. I was going to run up quite a bill for The Tribune! I'd love to see the CPAs when they get to my expense report! First, I was taken to the back. There were two locker rooms, labeled 'Mens' and 'Ladies'. I was handed a towel and a robe. Dr. Weiss handed me over to a girl named Lillian, who was to show me around. "Here's how it works." she started. "When you arrive here as a man, you need to enter the Men's locker room. You are not allowed into the Ladies room unless you are femmed out. You will be assigned a locker, where you can put your belongings and clothes. There is a shower, where you can clean off, and shave your legs if you need to. Most men here also shave their chests and armpits." I nodded as if I already knew to do that. "Next, you can put on your robe and move to the middle room. There, you can begin to dress up as a woman. We will do some shopping to stock your locker, so you can put on your bra, your breast forms, panties, and so on. Most of the clients keep their wigs in that middle locker as well." "Once you have your undergarments on, you may go into the Ladies room. You closet in there will have your dresses, skirts, shoes... all the rest of your clothes. There are lighted vanity mirrors and tables, so you can take your cosmetics tray over to pretty yourself up. We also have technicians if you need help. Then you can put on your shoes, grab your purse, and head out." "Outside?" "Some of our clients like to go out into the world once they have transformed themselves into women. However, it sounds like you're one of the shy ones. For girls like you, we have a variety of activities here, so you don't need to go out in public if you don't want to." "That's good. I'm a little shy." "I can see." she said. "Now some of the activities are free, like the makeup clinics. Some have a cost, like the ballet classes. I'll give you a full schedule of events once you walk out that door, and you're a girl." "Great." I said. I didn't know about this. I was hoping to find out the dirt before I had to actually dress up. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt to do it. And that way, I'd get to meet some of the clients. I could ask sly questions of them, and see if any of them had any problems I could report on. I decided to go ahead. "Before we get started with your transformation, we need to do a few things. First, we need to go shopping, so you can pick out a few outfits. And don't forget makeup and accessories." "Oh yes," I said, "we can't forget that. And shoes!" "Yes, and shoes." she laughed. We walked down a hallway to another room, which looked like the ladies clothing area of a small department store. "We specialize in larger sizes, since most men are not petite enough to fit into a size 8 dress. Do you know your size?" "It's been a while, you had better measure me." I said. "Hold your horses there tiger." she said. "First, you need to have a bust before we can figure out your bust size. We're going to fit you for a bra, and get you into some panties before we can try on dresses." It was humiliating, but strangely exciting to get measured for a bra. I wasn't a large man, but it took a D cup to look the right proportion on my frame. Lillian helped me pick out a few outfits, a couple pairs of shoes, sexy underwear, pantyhose, a purse, a makeup kit, jewelry, and a long blond wig. An assistant took my new acquisitions to the locker rooms, and Lillian led me back to the men's locker. "Go ahead, shower up, get rid of that awful hair, and move on through. I'll meet you in the women's locker room once you have your bra and panties on." I went in, undressed, and hit the showers. There were free disposable razors in sealed plastic covers (darn, no health code violations there). I shaved off my body hair, although I noticed that some of the other men in the room used Nair. I also shaved my face, even though I had done it that morning, just to get rid of the stubble. In the middle locker room, I found my bra, panties, breast forms, pantyhose and things in my locker. There was the smell of perfume in the air, and flowers, and other feminine scents unfamiliar to me. I put all of my undergarments on. I felt so strange, so alien, to be dressed up in women's underclothes. And to see myself in the mirror with breasts jutting out from my chest. Yet, I could not deny that between my legs, I had a bigger hard-on than I had felt in years. Perhaps, there was something to all this after all. I tried to chat a bit with the other men, but everyone seemed to avert their eyes from each other, and there was no conversation. But all that changed when I entered the ladies room. Inside, there were men in various phases of dress, and feminization. Some, like myself, were walking around in ladies undergarments. Some were fully dressed. Some were putting on makeup. Yet others were in all sorts of in- between states. And they were all very chatty. There was a definite change in their personalities once they were in their new personas. Perhaps because you could not recognize them... some of the men looked good as women, and you couldn't always tell which were which, between the men and the female technicians who were there to help with the transformations. I kept a sharp eye open, but no signs of sex, or anything illicit. Lillian met me, with a smile on her face. "Look at you!" she said. "You sexy girl." I managed to smile back. I hoped my hard on didn't show too much, but as her eyes drifted down, I felt uncomfortable. For the first time, I think I understood what my wife complained about when a man leered at her. I had always told her that is should make her feel good, but being ogled myself felt anything *but* good. "Now before you go any further, we need a female name for you." "Oh yes!" I said, pretending to be excited. "We have two ways to do it. Some men come in here with a name already in mind. But some like for us to name them. Most of you who are into forced feminization like for a girl to assign a name. Does that sound good?" "Oh yes! Please tell me who I am," I said. Lillian stared at me for a while, then an evil looking smile crept in on her face. "I have it. You remind me of a girl who was in my dorm at college. I think I'll name you after her. From now on, when you enter here, you are no longer Jason. You are now a woman, and your name is... Andrea." "Andrea..." I said, letting the name roll off my lips. "Everyone, this is Andrea. Say hi to her!" "Hi Andrea!" "Hey there girl." "Hello Andrea!" said all the women in the locker room, real or not. Okay, so now I was Andrea. This would take some getting used to. She now helped me get dressed up. I had purchased a mid- length black skirt, and a black turtleneck. It really made my boobs show up, and I couldn't help but admire myself in the mirror. With the wig on, much of my face was hidden, and it was harder to tell it was me. Next, she led me to the makeup area. Some of the men were putting their own makeup on, but since I was new to it, she called for one of the makeup artists to come do me. I almost died when I saw who it was that was assigned to me. It was my wife. *** I had not told her that I was to undertake this mission. I had been too embarrassed to tell her. Now she was going to see me, and my cover was going to be blown. How could I let her know that I was doing this for work without giving myself away? "Sarah, this is Andrea." said Lillian. "Andrea? I've seen her before..." she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "Really? Oh good. She said she's been doing this for years, but was never any good with the makeup. Make her look pretty, and I'll be back soon!" she said, sauntering off with her tight strut. "So Andrea, you've been doing this for years?" said Sarah. "This is my first time here. Steven suggested that I look into this place." I said, referring to my editor, hoping she would pick up on it. "Oh, he comes here too?" she said, in a tone, which I could tell was full of hidden anger. I knew her well after our 15 years together. "No, but he heard the word on the street." "Hmmm..." she said as she finished the base coat of foundation, and started to work on my cheeks. It was time to turn the tables on her. "So, how long have you worked here?" I said. "Oh, since they opened." she replied. "They pay better than any salon in town, and they have much better hours and benefits." Sarah started on my eyes. I had to try hard to hold still. "I'm glad you like it here. You've been putting in long hours." "Yes I have. Pout your lips," she said, as she worked at my lips. I hoped she had picked up on what I said, but her eyes still seethed with anger. She held up a mirror for me, and I almost fell out of my chair. I knew that Sarah was skilled with her makeup, but I did not believe that she could make my face look like that of a teenage girl. I was just floored. As I gasped, I noticed my ruby red lips, so full and moist looking. My eyes were so alluring. I became as hard as a rock. All of the softness around me, the smell of the perfume and makeup, the long hair falling on my face... I was starting to feel overwhelmed by all the new sensations. And most of all, I was *liking* it. I wanted more and more now. I could not believe it, but I liked being a woman! Had they done something to me? I never even thought of trying this before, but now I was so excited about it! And I wanted more! I was almost floating as Lillian picked me up, helped me into my pumps, and helped me learn to walk in them, with my purse slung over my shoulder. I was taking tight inline steps, careful to keep my balance. I couldn't help but to swing my hips. The extra padding in the special panties gave me the illusion of wide female hips. Enveloped within a skirt, I felt so vulnerable. I felt weak. I felt frail. I felt *feminine*. And it just kept getting more and more. Another girl came over to do my nails. Lillian helped me put on my jewelry. She coached me on how to talk with a more feminine voice. We chatted, and it wasn't long before I was falling into 'girl talk'. If it wasn't for the hardness between my legs, I would have forgotten that I was a man. At last, it was time to walk out the doorway, and into the activity room. I took one more look at myself in the mirror, and marveled at my newfound femininity. I was a girl now. I was Andrea. *** I walked out the door, and looked at the schedule of events, which were offered at the clinic. There were classes on how to walk, talk, sit, stand, and move like a real girl. There were activities, which women liked to do together, which we could participate in. There were so many things to choose from, I didn't know what I was going to do. But then my mind was made up for me. By my wife, Sarah. "Andrea!" she said as she marched out the door. "Yes?" I replied. "Come with me!" What choice did I have? I followed her into the parking lot, and into her silver Saturn. Now we had some privacy, and we could talk. "Honey, I..." I started, but I was cut off. "You pervert. How could you?" She said. "Listen! I'm doing this for work! I..." "Oh yeah, like I'm going to believe that." "It's true! I'm doing an undercover investigation." "Yeah, and I'm the president." "Why don't you call Steven, and ask yourself?" "I have a better idea. Let's drive to your office and ask him face to face." "No way!" "Why?" "I can't go into work like this! I can't let people who know me see me dress up like this! I look like a girl!" "And a pretty convincing one if I do say so myself. You're kind of pretty!" "Gee, thanks." "It looks like you enjoy being Andrea." "Its strange, but somehow, I do. I never thought that I would like this. But the move they feminized me, the more I liked it. I'm so turned on now! I want to make love to you." "No you don't. You're a girl, remember?" "Maybe I'm a lesbian. I want you." "Still thinking with your little head, eh?" "Come on, babe, be fair." "Fair? You do this behind my back, and you talk about fair?" "How could I tell you I was going to do this?" "Even if it was for work, you shouldn't keep a secret like this from me. No, you need to really learn about being a woman. I'm going to make you understand. You're going to spend a few days as with me, as Andrea, and I'm going to teach you. When I get done, you'll really understand women. You'll understand how to communicate properly. You won't keep any secrets from me after this." she said, as we started to drive off. I was angry now. "What about you? You didn't tell me you were going to work there." "I told you I was working at a new place doing makeup," she said. "But you left out a detail... that you were doing it on men!" "Look. Makeup on women is easy. If someone is already beautiful, all I have to do is to accentuate her features, and make her look nicer. But a man, now that's a challenge. I have to take an ugly, manly face, and try to make it pretty. Now I'm being stretched to my potential. Now it gets interesting. Now I have a job where I get to be truly creative, and take someone like you, and make them pretty. So this is different." I didn't know how to reply to that, and I was scared about what she was going to make me do when we got to the office. My worst fear came true when we pulled up to the visitors parking at The Tribune building. "Get out." she said. I obeyed. Having her order me around aroused me too now. We walked up to the security desk. "Ah, Mrs. Laddis. I don't think your husband is in today," said the guard. "Well, can my friend Andrea and I go check? You know how he doesn't always check in when he sneaks in here at all hours." "Sure thing Maam. Both of you need to sign in here please." I had a hard time remembering to sign as "Andrea", to make up a last name, and to try and use a different writing from my own. We rode the elevator up to the 11th floor, and I glared at her as we walked out the door and towards my desk. "Hi Sarah." said my friend Kathy. "Who's this?" "I'm Andrea," I said, blushing, and hoping that Kathy didn't recognize me. "Nice to meet you. I like your shoes." she said. "Thanks, I just got them." At least that was true. "Kath, have you seen Jason around today? I've looked everywhere for him, but I haven't seen him. Any ideas?" "Well, you know Jason," said Kathy. "He's probably off on one of his hot undercover stories, which make him think he's such a big shot. I'm sure once he gets his little article in the paper we'll have to deal with his over inflated male ego for another month." The girls laughed, so I chucked along, shyly. "Don't worry about him, I'll keep him reigned in." said Sarah, which made Kathy smile. Did they always talk about me this way behind my back? There was some chitchat for a while, and I tried to chime in now and then to keep in my role. Kathy's pager when off, so mercifully, she said goodbye and left us. We walked over to Steven's office, and entered. "Ah Sarah. You look as lovely as ever," he said. "Why thank you Steven. Nice tie. Did your wife pick that out for you?" "You got me again. She has good tastes though, doesn't she?" We all laughed. "I bet you're looking for Jason. He's out on assignment, so I don't know exactly where he is. If he drops in, I'll have him give you a call." "Thanks, but that's not the only reason I'm here. My friend Andrea here is new in town, and she's looking for work. Jason said how Terri got promoted from secretary to Administrative Assistant. I was wondering if you still had that opening? "Yes we do! The temp agency was supposed to send someone over today, but they were late, and didn't know how to use our software. Have you worked for a paper before?" he said, looking at me, then looking me up and down. "Yes I have." I replied. "And I can type 50 words a minute." "Well great, you're hired until the full time girl starts next week. Report tomorrow at 6:30am, and we'll get started." "Thank you so much!" said Sarah, who elbowed me, to remind me to thank him too. As we rode the elevator back down, and walked to her car, she smiled. "Now you're a lowly secretary. You'll have to come in on time, and remember to make the boss's coffee if you're going to get ahead." she snickered. "I'm not going to be a secretary." I said. "Someone will find out about me." "If you don't show up tomorrow, I'll make sure they find out about you. I'll get the security film from today, and make sure the whole place knows it was really *you*." I was really stuck now. I was going to have to be a secretary for the rest of the week, unless I could find a good way out of this. It was getting worse and worse by the minute. *** Sarah called up the clinic on her cell phone. "Lillian, I'm with Andrea, and she has decided to remain as a girl for a few days with me. We'll bring her back in on Friday. Don't worry about her, she's in good hands with me." I thought we were going home, but we first went to the mall, where Sarah made me buy several new outfits (for work), a nightie (for bedtime), and other female clothes, in public with her at the stores. She also made me get my ears pierced at the mall, which made me strangely excited. I really looked like a girl now. When we did get home, after watching her copy of Titanic, we went to bed. Normally, she would go to bed in her nightshirt, and I with just my boxers on. But she made me wear my new nightie, with its lacy fringe, and silky fabric. As we lay in bed, I normally leaned over to kiss her. Instead, she got on top of me. "Andrea, you're such a beautiful woman," she said, which instantly made me hard. She slipped a condom on me, and rubbed me as she told me how pretty I was. "You're such a pretty girl. You have such nice breasts. Look at you baby. You're so sexy. Ooh, I can feel you're getting wet between your legs. You have such a lovely pussy. Let me touch your pussy. Let me lick it." She was touching me in a way I have never been touched before. I was so excited that I thought I was going to burst! She kept rubbing me, then stopping, so that I never came. She dragged it out more and more, and I just wanted to come. "I just love your pussy. I love it that you're a girl now too." she said. I was breathless. "You want to come, don't you Andrea." "Yes! Make me come!" I said. "Tell me you're a girl." said Sarah. "I'm a girl!" I said. "Tell me what you have between your legs." "I have a pussy. I have a vagina. I'm a girl!" "Now really mean it!" "I am female! I am a woman! I'm a girl!" I said, as she touched me just right, so that I exploded into the condom. I never came so hard in my life. With her on top of me, rubbing me, I kept on pulsing and surging. My eyes rolled back into my head. Wow! "Don't you just love the *female* orgasm?" she said. "Yes. Can we do that again?" "We're going to do that every night. I love giving my girl orgasms. You're so pretty! I just love to see that smile on your face when I touch your pussy." We fell asleep in each other's arms. The last thing I remember was her whispering in my ears: "You're a girl now. You're a girl." *** The alarm went off at 5:15 in the morning, making me wake up with a start. "Why so early?" I said, as I tried to roll over and get back to sleep. "You have to get going Andrea! You have a lot to do to get ready. You only have an hour to shower, shave your legs, put on your makeup, and get dressed up. Now move it!" I was groggy as I showered, and shaved with her razor. My mind was dull and clouded as she helped me get into my panties, bra, and slip. Soon, I was in my business suit, with its navy blue skirt, jacket, and light blue blouse. Once I was in full makeup, I looked like a real businesswoman. Sarah helped me put on my jewelry (my earrings stayed in of course, since you have to wear them for a couple of months after the ear gets pierced so the hole doesn't close back up). We only had time for a glass of grapefruit juice and vitamins, before she had to drop me off at work. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. Steven was there to meet me, and had me sit for an ID photo, and fill in the paperwork. By 10:30, 'Andrea' was an official employee of The Tribune. I was shown my desk, and told to start by typing in some business letters, which he had dictated the day before. Now since it was my first time typing as a woman, I had problems at first. My long nails would hit the key above what I was aiming for. I would type two letters, then have to hit the backspace key. I was getting really frustrated, until I hit upon the idea of going over to introduce myself to some of the other secretaries. As we chatted and they typed, I was able to see how they help their fingers to hit the keys better. Once I had that down, I was able to get up to 40 words a minute. Not my normal pace, but much better than most people out there! Another difficulty came when I had to go use the bathroom. First, I almost walked into the men's room, because it was so automatic, and I was conditioned to do that ever since I was a kid. But I caught myself, and went into the ladies room. Of course, there were no urinals, so I had to wait for a stall. But there was a couch to sit on while I waited, and I chatted with the other women who were waiting. Now that we were alone, among just 'the girls', the talk changed. I heard a lot of what was going on in the office, behind the scenes. I heard who was sleeping with who, and things, which I would never have guessed. When I finally got into a stall, pulled down my pantyhose, and figured out what to do with my skirt, I was sitting down when I heard two of the girls gabbing. "That new secretary Andrea had better watch herself." "Yeah. Once Jason gets back and sees her, he's going to be all over her." "Do you think we should warn her about him?" "I don't know. She seems kind of quiet. I don't know what's up with her." "Oh Phyllis, I think she's just shy. It is her first day today." "That won't stop Jason from going after her." "Yeah, that guy chases anything in a skirt. I don't know how his wife tolerates it." What? I didn't do that! I was going to say something in protest, but I shut my mouth. Sure, I liked to look at pretty women, but what's the harm in that? I mean, if they didn't want men to look at them, why do the dress that way? And yes, I've invited a few of them out to drinks after work when Sarah was going to be out of town visiting relatives or such, but that didn't mean I was trying to get them into bed. Where did they ever get that impression? Now I was done, but I had another problem. I had long nails, and I had to wipe myself off. It sounds gross, but how do you do it with such long nails? I ended up having to use a ton of tissue so as not to get my fingernails dirty. How did women do things like this? These nails were sexy, but they made everything so hard to do! I never would have thought anything of it, but now that I had these nails, I began to gain a new appreciation. *** The next day, something came up where I ended up being a big help. One of the reporters (Steven didn't say which one) had failed to file a story on time, so there was a last minute panic to fill in a column. He told each of the secretaries that we had fifteen minutes to write a 300 word column on anything we wanted, and that he would put in the one which he liked best. I was a great writer of course, with all of my experience. I didn't want to give myself away with my normal style, so I decided to write a column on how hard women work to make ourselves look good for men, and all the extra things we have to do because of it. Like my experience with the fingernails today (on the typewriter, not in the bathroom!). Or how much work it really is to do full makeup. And of course, due to my superior skills, my column was selected to be run in the paper. Steven told me that I'd get a bonus of $100 for the extra work, and thanked me personally. I smiled and smiled. I loved being a writer! *** After two days of Sarah forcing me to go into work as Andrea, I decided that I was going to have to drop in as Jason to keep my editor, Steven updated on my assignment. So I told him that I (Andrea) had to take the afternoon off, because I had a doctor's appointment about a 'female problem'. This was a great excuse, because he didn't even think of asking for any details. I went to the clinic, entered the women's room, and emerged an hour later as Jason again for the first time in a while. It felt good to be in my own normal shoes again, and in my own clothes, although I was afraid that I would still walk and move like Andrea, and give myself away. And I had to make sure my hair covered my ears so that my new piercings would not give me away. But I thought I was doing okay. I also missed my purse. It felt strange to go out with just a wallet in my rear pocket. There was no room to store anything in there compared with a purse! I drove up, took the elevator up to my floor (being careful to use the 'Jason' badge, and not the 'Andrea' one), and went to get my mail. As usual, mostly junkmail, but a few interesting things to read later on. My phone message light was flashing, so I listened to my messages. One was from Steven, who asked me to come see him right away. I normally listen to my messages every day, but I had been so busy lately (and had been Andrea so much lately), that it has slipped my mind. I hurried over to his office to see what was up. He made me wait fifteen minutes while he talked to someone on the phone, which was unusual. Normally, he would tell them to call back later, and would talk to me right away. When he finally hung up the phone, he was in a foul mood. "Jason, we need to have a long talk." "What's up boss?" I asked. "That is the question for you. First of all, you didn't return my phone call last week. You were late with your story, and I had to get a secretary to write something at the last second to fill in. What do you have to say for yourself?" "I didn't realize I was late. I fell behind on my messages and..." "That's not all you've fallen behind on. Your expenses are through the roof, and you haven't even come up with one piece of evidence in your investigation. Every time I look, you've got another $500 in charges, but you return nothing. What in the hell is going on?" "I'm getting closer to the story, but it's going to take time. This isn't an easy one to crack." "They never are. But you've been cracking less and less lately. You are expensive, you don't come through, you don't return calls, and you don't bring in the readers like you used to. When was the last time you had a story run on page 1? You've been slipping Jason." "Like hell I have!" I replied. "What about the airport story?" "That was 18 months ago. And back then, you filed on time, and you didn't spend five thousand dollars to get me nothing!!!!" "That's crap and you know it old man!" I said, but it was a mistake. "That's enough! You don't talk to me like that! You're fired!" bellowed Steven. "Get the hell out, and I don't ever want to see you in here again!!!" I was told to just go home, and that my personal items would be mailed to me. My ID was taken away, and I was escorted of the grounds. I drove home, and broke down in tears. Just like a woman. *** When Sarah came home, I told her what had happened. "Well, there is only one real choice then, isn't there." she said. "Yes, I'll go find a new job." "Find a new job? That will take months! We have to pay for the cars, the house, medical insurance, car insurance...how are you going to do all that? We don't have much in the way of cash reserves. No, you need to keep your secretarial work going, Andrea." she said. "But I don't make that much as a girl! We need more money!" "Then you'll just have to figure out how to get a raise." she said, and stormed out of the room, meaning that the conversation was over. Now I was really stuck, having to go to work as Andrea full time. Sunday I transformed back into Andrea, and went into work all week as a secretary. Steven called me into his office one day, and I was interested in why a lowly secretary such as myself would rate a meeting with the editor. "Andrea, we've been receiving lots of mail about that column you wrote," he said with a gentle smile on his face. "In fact, it was 97% positive. And the 3% negative were all men. As you know, demographics are everything in the newspaper business these days. Our advertisers would love for us to have a younger readership, and an increase in female readers. Young women 18-36 are the best target market for clothing, and the department stores are one of the biggest advertisers we have." I nodded my head. Of course, I understood all this, but a secretary might not, so I pretended that I was learning something new. "Now since you have done such a great job of creating excitement among our female readers, I am going to change your assignment. I am promoting you to junior staff writer, and giving you a column, which will run Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Welcome to the staff Andrea," he said, extending his hand. I was promoted! Well, now the money problem was solved. While I didn't quite have the pay that I did as Jason (wasn't it just like a big corporation to pay less to us hard working women then to men in the same position!), at least we would be comfortable now. That evening, I went to the clinic to see Sarah, who was now working extra hours to help pick up the slack. As she did my makeup, I told her the good news. She said that she had some good news of her own for me. "Andrea, you know how you come here a lot, because I have to do all this work to get you looking pretty?" "Yes?" I said. "Well, I figured out a way that you won't have to go through all this every time. You won't need my help to put on your makeup. And it will save us both money." she said. "How is that?" I asked, eager to help with the money situation. "Well, first tell me: how do you like the way your makeup came out today? I know this took a lot longer than normal, but I was using a different technique. How do you like it?" "It's wonderful." I replied. "I love how my eyes look. And my lips. You did a great job. As always." "So you're happy with it?" she said. "Yes!" I replied, eagerly. "Well good, because the makeup I just applied is the new *permanent* kind, which never comes out. Your face is going to look like that for the rest of your life now." "What!" I said. "Permanent?" "Yes dear. Now you won't have to come in here as often, and you won't have to spend your money on makeup. Isn't that wonderful?" "But this will never come off! My face is going to always be like this!" "Yes, isn't it just so exciting? You look so pretty dear." I broke down again, and started to cry. First, I lost my job as Jason, and was now employed as Andrea. Now, my face was permanently covered with makeup. I was going to look like a girl now for the rest of my life. The tears flowed. "There, there, let it out and cry like a good girl. Yes, feel your emotions taking over control of your logical mind. You're more and more a girl every day. And now you're going to look like one too." she said. *** That was five years ago, and what can I say? After working full time as Andrea for a few months, and not being able to go back to being Jason because of my permanent makeup, I fell more and more into thinking and acting like a woman, all of the time. Sarah was very supportive of me, and helped my transition, along with Lillian and the good women over at the transformation clinic. When I felt the need to get real breasts, they helped me find a good doctor. When I decided to start taking estrogen, they were there to help me. And when I finally realized that the organ between my legs was wrong, and that I would not truly be happy until it was removed (and the proper genitals built through cosmetic surgery), again I had loving women to help me through my transition. Sarah and I are still together, and I love her more and more each day. We wear each other's clothes, do all the same things together, and are closer than any two people could ever be. She still works at the clinic, and I volunteer there when I'm not too busy between raising our daughters, working on the school board, driving the kids to soccer practice, and yes, writing my weekly columns for The Tribune, which are soon to go into national syndication. What more could a woman ask for in her life?