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Farber, Underwood, Carruthers, Kinshaw, Young, Oswald, Updike is its city's first openly transgendered firm. Follow the lives of its partners, associates, staff and clients. Today we learn the history of one of its members. GLADYS By Eugene Webber "Have you called the agency, Heloise?" John Farber asked his office manager. Heloise Farber, John's sister, older by three years, was taking a week off to visit their parents. Their father had retired eight months earlier and their mother was about to go mad with him around the house. The small office was just the two of them. Whenever they needed extra staff, they would call one of the temporary agencies. They also used students from the local college for some jobs, such as research and fact-checking. "Not yet, John," she replied, then added with a smirk. "Why don't you try Howard? I'm sure he could fill in perfectly." Howard Melrose was one of the students that they used on a regular basis. In fact, it had become so regular that Howard was like a third member of the office. He was completely familiar with most of the clientele, and all of the office procedures. More than once he had filled in for Heloise when she had appointments with her kids, or the myriad other things that takes a widow with three children away from the office. While she had not discussed this with her brother, on more than one occasion she had noticed that Howard's face showed traces of make-up, and that his eyebrows arched a little too much for a man. "Howard?" John answered. "No, I'd like a woman around the office. Clients like a pretty face to look at when they're waiting." "Like I said," Heloise continued, "try Howard." Her remark surprised John. He had never thought of Howard that way. There was nothing obviously feminine about the nature of his work. As for filling in for Heloise, these occasions had always occurred when he was already in the office during other work. Before John could answer, the outer door of the office opened and in walked the devil. Howard!" Heloise chimed, "We were just speaking of you." Howard stopped dead in his tracks, looking very much like the proverbial deer caught in headlights. He looked at Heloise, then at John then back at Heloise. John was staring at him intently, so intently that Howard felt extremely uncomfortable. He moved over to the coat rack, removed his coat and hung it on the rack. When he turned around, the duo was still staring at him, their expressions unchanged. He advanced to Heloise's desk, his usual behavior, to await whatever assignment she had for him. "Howard," she beamed, "how would you like to sit in for me next week?" "Sure," Howard answered. He knew she would be out of town the next week, but had expected John to get a temp in. Maybe a temp wasn't available. Anyway, he had done it before, though not for a whole week. No problem. "I mean really sit in for me," Heloise stated. Howard looked at her with his deer-in-headlights stare. "John wants a girl as the receptionist. We couldn't get any of the temps who know our business enough to work alone, and John doesn't have the time to train anyone next week. You know the operation as well as anyone. But you'll have to dress as a woman for the entire week." Howard's jaw dropped, his eyes bugged, and his face flushed. He looked at Heloise, then at John, then Heloise, John, Heloise. All this time John said nothing, just stood behind Heloise, looking at Howard. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see Howard as a woman. "Forget it," John finally said. "My sister gets weird ideas sometimes, Howard." He turned to go into his office. "Not so fast, little brother," Heloise rejoined. "We still need someone for next week. Suppose we offer Howard the full amount we would have to pay the temp agency. For forty hours! That's about two weeks of pay, right, Howard?" Howard nodded slightly, barely able to stand. Swiveling her chair to face her brother, Heloise continued. "We'll not be out any extra money, and Howard would have a little extra." John frowned at her. What had seemed like a wild idea had now become a sick joke. "Forget it, Heloise." Looking at Howard, he apologized, "I'm sorry about this, Howard." As he turned to go into his office, Howard spoke for the first time. "How... much... would... it... be... exactly?" The question caught John by surprise. He stopped and turned slowly to look at Howard, then at Heloise. Howard was a deep red and sweating as if he had ran up the stairs to the office rather than take the elevator. Heloise was grinning like the Cheshire cat. Howard swallowed hard, then asked again. "How much would I earn?" "Eight hundred." John replied. "I'll do it," Howard stated. Heloise nearly fell out her chair. "Not so fast," John said. "This is more than wearing a dress to the office for a week. You have to look like a woman.... A young and pretty woman!" "I'm quite sure that Howard can manage that," Heloise tittered. John looked at Howard, the skepticism speaking for itself. Heloise saw the doubt in her brother's eyes, and knew he was wavering. "Howard, why don't you go home and change, and come back this afternoon... as a girl." Turning to John she challenged, "If he doesn't meet your approval, then we'll get a temp and you'll have to muddle through next week as best you can." John's curiosity quickly overcame his doubts. He still couldn't see Howard as a girl and was intrigued as to how he would look. "Whatever," he said, with a note of resignation. He turned again and went into his office Heloise and Howard just stared at each other, Heloise beaming with her Cheshire smile and Howard somewhat dumbfounded. After several awkward minutes, Heloise broke the silence. "I think you should go home now, Howard." Howard did not remember anything about how he got from the office to his apartment. All he could think of was that Heloise knew about his feminine persona, and now his boss knew too. It wasn't until he was in the shower shaving his legs that the full impact of that morning hit him. If he didn't return, would he have a job? If he returned as Howard, would he have a job? If he returned as a girl, would he have a job? Not that finding another job as a part-time researcher would be that difficult. But he liked working at Farber Resources. In fact, he was the main resource at Farber Resources, doing most of the research that formed the industry reports the company sold. Sure, twelve dollars an hour wasn't much money, but it paid the rent on his student apartment. With his grad student grant and loans, he was not bad off. Except for Gladys. Gladys needed things. Pantyhose and stockings that always ran after being worn only a few times. Control panties to keep Howard in his place. Garter belts, bras, slips, camisoles, breast forms and pads. And make-up! Howard never ceased to be amazed at how expensive make-up was! Foundations, blushes, mascara, eye shadow, lashes, lip gloss, nail polish. And wigs, and clothing! Blouses, skirts, dresses, sweaters, suits. And shoes. Pumps, slings, sandals, slippers, skimmers. Amazing how the same shoe became different just by changing the height of the heel, or adding a strap here or there. And then there were accessories. Jewelry. Handbags. Hats. Scarves. Coats. Yes, Gladys enjoyed being a girl, and Howard enjoyed being Gladys. It was Howard who stepped into the shower; it was Gladys who stepped out. John wanted a young and pretty girl. Well, a young and pretty girl John would get! Gladys sat at her vanity and started with her eyebrows. Just a little thinner and with a slight arch at the end--nothing that couldn't be undone with a washcloth. A light pink eye shadow, almost the same tone as her skin. Darken and brush out her own lashes. No mascara. After all, Gladys is young and innocent, don't want her looking like a tart! Enough foundation to hide what little five-o'clock shadow Howard left. Finish with a pale pink lip gloss, just enough to show that she's wearing it. Underwear would be easy. Two pairs of full-cut control briefs, with control-top pantyhose. Hot, yes, but no chance of Howard rearing his other head! Since Gladys would have to maintain her ladylike posture all day long, a longline bra was required. Gladys decided to use breast forms although the bra she chose could have stood up by itself. The clothing posed a slight problem. Should Gladys make her entrance as a career woman or an administrative assistant? For this Gladys had to think about Heloise. She didn't want to overshadow the older woman, but she did need to impress her. Oh yes, the wardrober she had bought! Tan, a blend, a skirt with a hem three inches below the knees, long-sleeve jacket. A white, pleated long-sleeve blouse with ruffled cuffs would create the proper blend of femininity and seriousness. Pumps were the only shoes that would meet this occasion. Gladys chose a medium brown pair with 2-inch heels. Higher would have been pushing it, not that Gladys couldn't walk in them. These heels would alter her walk enough to make it feminine without making it camp. She decided to pass on the earrings, but chose a thin single strand gold necklace. The wig was her final decision. Her favorites were the blonde ones, one with masses of curls, the other straight to her shoulders. While she looked good in either one, she decided that, like the heels, the hair should be understated. The first wig she had ever bought was a mousy brown bob with bangs. As she put it on and fitted it into place, she made a mental note to get a wig with more flair, but not as much flash as the blonde ones. The last item she put on were her nails, slightly longer than her real ones. She painted them a bright red, figuring that John would expect this color. It didn't really fit with the overall effect she was trying to achieve, but it was John who had to be convinced. She had a spare pair of round rimless glasses that gave her a bookish look. Ready to face the world, Gladys placed her purse with its long straps over her left shoulder, her handbag over her right, and picked up her attach? case. As she looked at herself in the hall mirror, the effect was different than she had aimed for. Instead of a pretty, young office worker, what she saw was a pretty woman trying not to look pretty - the type of woman who does not want to attract to much attention, especially male attention. Instantly Gladys realized this look was perfect. Any man looking at her would wonder why such a pretty girl chose to hide her beauty! Her trip back to the office was the opposite of the morning's return to her apartment. Then, Howard saw nothing, remembered nothing. Now, Gladys saw and remembered everything. Still uncertain of herself, she walked with her head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone, unaware that many women traveled the streets of the city the same way. At the corner newsstand where Howard normally bought a paper, the vendor looked directly through her as if she wasn't there. However, there was a slight change in the world. Whenever she was on a collision course with a man, like a game of chicken the man would step aside just steps before they met. Howard often had to stop dead in front of other men as they tested each other before deciding who would step aside. At the office building, the security guard opened the door for her, something he had never done for Howard! When she walked into the office of Farber Resources, Heloise took one look at her and yelled, "John!" John came running out of his office, looked at his sister, then at the woman at the door, then around the room. "What's the matter, Heloise?" His sister pointed at Gladys. John looked at her. "May we help you, Miss?" "That's Howard!" Heloise exclaimed before Gladys could answer. John stared at Gladys, trying to see Howard. Heloise, more composed now, got up and walked over to Gladys. She gave her the once over - three times - each time becoming more pleased with what she saw. Turning to her brother, she said. "If you didn't recognize him, I guess he starts on Monday." John had sagged so that he was sitting on Heloise's desk. He continued to stare at Gladys, not sure of what he was seeing. Heloise stood next to Gladys, smirking, her arms folded across her chest. Gladys just stood there, not knowing what was next. After several minutes, John spoke. "He does look like a woman... but what about handling himself like one?" "Let him complete the work you have for him today, then make a decision," Heloise suggested. Turning to Gladys, "Hmm. We can't call you Howard, do you have a girl's name?" "Gladys." Gladys said in Howard's voice. "That's it!" John shouted. "Wait!" Heloise interrupted. "How... Gladys, try raising your voice a bit." "Gladys," Gladys responded, still sounding more male than female. John groaned, looking exasperated. "John, you said you'd give him... her... a chance." John looked at the two of them, then went into his office, slamming the door behind him. Heloise went to her desk, indicating that Gladys should take her regular place at her other desk. There were several reports, industry data, and trade magazines for Gladys to read and distill. As she started, Heloise spoke again. "Er, Gladys, since we need to work on your voice, why don't you tell me how you got into all... this." "My tale is a simple one. As an undergraduate I came across some women's lingerie left at the laundromat where I did my laundry. I took it home and tried them on. I was hooked. From found lingerie I went to ordering them in mail-order catalogs. Soon I followed with clothing, shoes, make-up. I only did it in my room on weekends when I was an undergraduate. By trial and error I learned what works and what didn't. I had to cut more than one Monday and Tuesday class to let make-up wear off or my beard to grow. By the time I was a graduate student, I became more confident, sometimes venturing out at night en femme. I thought I had been very careful, and wonder how you guessed my secret." As she spoke, Gladys modulated her voice so that it sounded like a low contralto by the time she finished. "You can never fully remove make-up, How... Gladys," Heloise informed her. "You do a good job, but some Mondays I could tell how you spent your weekends." Gladys blushed, the flush showing underneath the foundation. "When you went out as a woman... did you... you know... with men?" Gladys shook her head vigorously in the negative. She wasn't gay, she thought. She knew others would assume that, but she just liked the feel and freedom of women's clothes. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" Heloise asked. Gladys again shook her head negatively. "I go out on dates, sometimes, but it never seems to work out." "So you're still a virgin?" This time Gladys shook her head affirmatively. At this point the phone rang, ending the conversation. For the rest of the afternoon, Gladys carried out her regular duties. Heloise marveled at the way she carried herself, the seemingly natural flounce of her walk, the way she knelt rather than bent to reach the lower shelves or files. John came out of the office several times to talk to Heloise about inconsequential things, taking the time to watch how Gladys moved or otherwise deported herself. By four o'clock, Heloise was calling her Gladys without hesitation and Gladys' voice was high enough that John would not had noticed it if he didn't know its source. At five o'clock Heloise went to the door of John's office, giving him a quizzical look. John knew she wanted a decision, and he knew what she wanted that decision to be. He went to the door and looked at Gladys, standing by the door to the outside. "See you Monday, How... Gladys," he said. Gladys smiled and left. Gladys nearly floated home. She had passed with flying colors. John Farber was not the most open-minded of men. If she could satisfy him, then she could satisfy anyone. That evening she went to dinner at a local family restaurant as Gladys, a first. For the rest of weekend, Gladys did the housework, went for a walk around the neighborhood - in daylight - and even visited the local mall. She was tempted to go into the women's specialty shops, but passed. She would live nearly ten days as Gladys. Maybe then she would be willing to try the shops. With Heloise gone, Gladys decided to try a more professional look. She replaced the tan skirt and jacket with navy blue skirt suit, the blouse with a pale blue scoop-necked shell, the single-strand gold necklace with a single-strand pearl one. This time she added matching pearl earrings. With her make-up she used a shade of blue-gray eye shadow, and mascara. Gladys did not want to wear her mousy wig on Monday, but it was the only one that fit the image she had created on Friday. She chose navy blue pumps with 3" stiletto heels. After all, she had spent the last three days in heels of various heights, she could handle these classics now. As she walked to work Monday, she did not look down or avoid eye contact with passersby. When she bought her morning paper, this time the vendor smiled at her. At the entrance to the office building, she thought she saw the security guard giving her the once over as he held the door open for her. She was the first one at the office, and was seated at Heloise's desk when John walked in. John had buyer's remorse since agreeing to have Gladys come in. He took one look at her and all remorse was gone. They exchanged some awkward greetings, then settled into the daily office routine. By the end of the day, John was easily calling her Gladys. For Tuesday, Gladys decided to try her straight blonde wig. She lightened up her make-up: pink eye shadow, light pink lip gloss, clear nails. She changed the suit for a short- sleeved print sheath, and the pumps for slings with two- inch heels. She had her back to the door when John walked in. At first he thought Gladys had chickened out and called in a temp until she turned and said "Morning, Mr. Farber." "Good morn... morning, Gladys," Farber stammered. Gladys thought that her new look may have upset him, and hoped it would not be a problem. What she did not see was the way his pants tented. John quickly rushed into his office and sat behind his desk. He tried hard - very hard - to remember that the person in his outer office was a man in a dress. He had said he wanted a pretty girl in the front office - now he had one! John stayed in his office all morning, causing Gladys to worry about her position. All through the morning John listened to the traffic of business in the outer office: phones being answered in what was increasingly becoming a sultry voice to him, the various delivery men flirting, the clatter of the typewriter, the hum of the copier. "I'll be having a long lunch, Gladys," he announced when he came out of the office at twelve. He left abruptly, leaving Gladys to wonder if she too should take a long lunch. She decided against it, which was fortunate since the phone was ringing as she returned to the office. "Good afternoon, Farber Resources, how may we serve you?" she answered. "Is Mr. Farber available?" a female voice asked. "Mr. Farber will be in later this afternoon. Is there anything I can help you with?" Gladys responded. There was silence on the other end of the line. Gladys guessed that some secretary was placing a call for her boss, who didn't want to get on the line until Farber was already on. Games! "Is Mrs. Oswald there?" the voice asked. "Mrs. Oswald is away for the week. Family emergency. I'm the only one here." Gladys hoped to head off any further questions. "Hello?" The voice on the other end was now male - a very impatient male. "This is Albert Kinshaw, who are you?" "I'm Gladys... Melrose," Gladys replied. "I'm filling in for Mrs. Oswald, Mr. Kinshaw. May I assist you?" "Look... Gladys did you say... Look young lady, John was working on an industry analysis on outsourcing training and orientation services for hospitals. I thought I wouldn't need it for another week, now I got to make a presentation on Thursday. Did John mention it?" Kinshaw Marketing was one of Farber Resource's most important clients. The industry analysis was one of the projects Gladys - or rather Howard - had worked on the previous week. "Mr. Farber had not mentioned it, but I am familiar with it," Gladys informed Mr. Kinshaw. "It's in a rough draft right now. I can prepare a final report and have it FedExed first thing in the morning." "Can't wait for FedEx," Kinshaw said. "I'll be there myself first thing in the morning to pick it up." Hanging up the phone, Gladys went to the files and pulled out the report. It was a rough draft, not near ready for delivery to a client. She sat down and began typing, hoping her typing skills would prove adequate. She wished for one of those futuristic typewriters she heard about that would store everything you typed, so that you only have to recall the document, make your changes, and have it printed on the copier in multiple copies. Even do graphics! Well, someday. Right now, she had to type this as a final report. At least she could make corrections and changes as she typed, since it was her draft. She had finished about two-thirds when the phone rang. "Good afternoon, Farber Resources, how may we serve you?" she answered. John was pleased with the professional way Gladys answered the phone. If he hadn't known, he would have thought the voice belonged to a woman. "Gladys, this is Mr. Farber, I won't be returning this afternoon. Just handle things and lock up at the end of the day." He then hung up. Gladys was very upset. She had expected Farber to return and assume responsibility for everything, even if Gladys was doing all the work. If it wasn't possible to have the final report ready in the morning, it should be the owner of the company, not some clerical replacement, who called one of the firm's most important clients to inform him of that. It wasn't until 9 pm. that she left the office. No temp would have done this, she thought. At home, she fell asleep with her clothes on, waking up at two am. by hunger. After eating a sandwich, she showered and returned to bed, to sleep the sleep of the profoundly tired. Only the automatic alarm kept her from oversleeping. Not having he opportunity to properly prepare herself, she put on her brown wig, a straight skirt, a plain blouse, pantyhose and flats. She did not touch up her make-up, and arrived at the office fifteen minutes late looking every bit a frump. Farber and Kinshaw were already in the office. Farber took one look at Gladys and all his misgivings resurfaced. Kinshaw was very upset since Farber didn't know anything about the report. "Here it is, Mr. Kinshaw," Gladys said, reaching for the finished report, which was right on top of Heloise's desk. Kinshaw looked it over, "Very nice, very nice indeed." He looks at Farber, "Sorry about the temper, John, but this contract can make or break me." Turning to Gladys, "So you're Gladys. What agency are you with?" "I'm not from an agency," Gladys replied. "I'm from the university... I help out here occasionally." "Don't try stealing my help, Al," John interjected. Both men laughed. "Well, I got to be going," Al said, turning to Gladys. "Thank you, young lady." After Kinshaw left, John looked at Gladys as she hung up her coat and sat at Heloise's desk. "How... Gladys," he began, his voice disapproving, "When I agreed to this arrangement, you were supposed to look like an attractive young lady." Gladys was tired, and not having eaten breakfast, also hungry. She responded, as Howard never would have. "Mr. Farber, I worked until 9 pm. to finish that report. I not only had to type it, but prepare and put in the graphics, then photocopy it, and bind it. I didn't have any one to help me, and most importantly, no one to tell me what the final report should look like. I'm supposed to replace Mrs. Oswald as a secretary, not as co-owner. I know that Mr. Kinshaw is a very important client, and that's why worked late and I left the report on the top of the desk, so it would be the first thing you saw. I'm sorry if I'm not the sexy thing you expect to see. It takes a lot of work to look like a woman, and I thought making sure that Mr. Kinshaw got his report was more important than how pretty I looked." Farber was shocked! Howard would never have said these things to him. In fact, he had always considered Howard a wimp. If Howard had made this speech, Farber may have fired him. But Farber was used to women talking back to him, especially his sister and co-owner of the firm. Plus the fact that she was right! He shouldn't have taken the afternoon off, even if it was because he was sexually aroused by Gladys as a blonde - a pretty blonde. And she had done the right thing. That final report was important to Kinshaw, which means that it is important to Farber Resources. "I'm... sorry, Gladys," he apologized. "You did good.... No, you did great." He looked at her and realized that she needed to fix herself properly. "Look, you already put in four hours extra yesterday. That's worth today off." Gladys did not fully accept Farber's apology. She believed he just wanted her to leave the office, looking as she did. Still, he was the boss. She gathered her things and headed for the door. "Gladys," Farber said as she opened the door, "do you think you could wear your blonde wig tomorrow?" Gladys nodded, sure only that she was not being fired. Gladys got home around 10:30. She ate nearly everything in the refrigerator that didn't have to be cooked, then ran herself a hot bubble bath. She had barely settled into the tub before she fell asleep. The coldness of the water awakened her. She stood and took hot shower as the water drained. After drying herself, she went to her bedroom, checking the digital clock of the clock-radio. It was 1 pm. Still drowsy, but not sleepy, she decided to stay home, wearing a half-slip and camisole. It was the first time she did not have the longline bra or the control panties since last Friday; she wished she could dress this freely at work. She curled up on her couch to read some magazines and dozed off around 3 pm. She woke about 6 pm., feeling rested for the first time that day. She decided she would treat herself to dinner at the new Vietnamese restaurant a few blocks away. Feeling more self-confident, she decided to wear a regular bra, a thong, stockings and a garter belt. She decided on a black pleated skirt and a red mock-turtleneck sweater. Red stiletto pumps, red handbag, bright red lipstick. A necklace of large black beads, which she knotted, a black bracelet. Gladys had a moment of hesitation as she looked at herself in the mirror. This was a little wild! For the first time in her life, Gladys felt like the center of the universe as she strolled to the restaurant. She felt that every pair of male eyes was on her and could have sworn that she heard a whistle or two - or more! The restaurant was nearly deserted, this being midweek. She was shown to a table where passersby could see her. Gladys realized that the waiter had hoped to attract more customers by having her in view! Many women would have felt manipulated, even used. Gladys was extremely flattered. She didn't recognize the names of any of the dishes, but the menu conveniently had pictures of each dish. She chose items, which looked like dishes she had had at Chinese restaurants. The food was delicious, but what she enjoyed most was the lip print she left on the tea cup. Well, almost the most enjoyable. Two other groups did come into the restaurant while she was eating, a quintet of young men she recognized from the college, and two couples in their thirties. The college boys kept looking at her salaciously, none having the courage to approach her. She nearly giggled when she wondered what the two who had been in one of her classes would think if they knew they were ogling their teaching assistant! The married men were more furtive in their glances, trying to check her out without alerting their wives. From the visual daggers the women threw her way, they were not successful. She returned home very contented, and slept soundly. Thursday morning, Gladys chose a sky blue sheath to go along with the curly blonde wig. For one of the few times she wore the body shaper with the padded hips and derriere. Since she seldom went out in public in the daytime, she had not felt the need to appear more voluptuous. But after yesterday, she knew she had to re-establish her en femme persona in Mr. Faber's eyes. The sheath fitted perfectly, nipping in at the waist and swelling out gracefully at the hips. A triple-strand silver necklace, silver earrings, and a wristwatch with a silver band completed the outfit. With white pantyhose and her blue stiletto pumps, Gladys was sure she would win Mr. Farber's approval. The look in John's eyes when she walked into the office was all the confirmation she needed. The rest of the day nearly flew by since she still had to perform the research, fact-checking, and analysis duties of Howard, as well as the duties of Heloise. The only highlight was when Mr. Kinshaw called and thanked her for her work before she switched him to Mr. Farber. She detected a hint of disappointment on Farber's face when she said goodnight at five. Friday. My last day as Gladys at work, thought Gladys. Gladys arrived as a demure young lady, she should depart also as a lady. Only not so demure! She knew she wanted a skirt that flounced and swung when she walked, yet looked conservative when she stood still or sat down. She decided on a forest green, white polka-dot shirtwaist dress with a flared skirt. The white pearl necklace and earrings she wore on Tuesday, and a pair of white stiletto pumps. With a white purse, and white gloves, she was the essential Junior Leaguer. She had just finished making coffee when the deliveryman came into the office with a large bouquet complete with vase, followed by Farber. "I guess these are for you, ma'am," the deliveryman said. "Why thank you, John," gushed Gladys, taking the flowers and putting them on Howard's desk. "I didn't send them," John replied, puzzled. Gladys looked at John, then at the deliveryman, then at the flowers. Spotting the card, she opened it. "Gladys, Thank You. Your work clinched the deal! Albert Kinshaw" Gladys looked at Farber, who was signing the deliveryman's sheet. "It's from Mr. Kinshaw" "That's Al Kinshaw," he replied, letting the deliveryman out. "Your report clinched the deal for him. It still had Howard Melrose on some of the documentation. When he asked who Howard Melrose was, I told him Howard was your brother. He said he wanted to thank him personally, and I said the person he really should thank is the woman who stayed until 9 pm. Tuesday night preparing the final report for him." "Thank you, Mr. Farber," Gladys responded. Just as she was about to return to Heloise's desk, the door opened and another deliveryman walked in. "Special Delivery for Howard Melrose," he stated, matter- of-factly, holding up an envelope. This time Gladys took the envelope and signed for it. Opening the envelope, she found a greeting card and a credit card. The greeting card read: "Thanks for the research, Howard. The card is good for dinner for two at Il Venezia. Albert Kinshaw." "Seems like you win twice," smiled John. "Yeah, except I don't have anybody to take to dinner." Gladys replied. "Well, I enjoyed having dinner with you." "Mr. Farber, may I have the pleasure of your company at Il Venezia this evening?" "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Melrose." The two of them laughed at their mock formality. Friday went as quickly as Thursday. Gladys made reservations for two in Mr. Farber's name for seven that evening. "Would you like me to meet you there?" Gladys asked when she told Farber of the reservation. "Of course not!" Farber exclaimed. "I'll pick you up at your place." This was something Gladys had not anticipated. After a moment's panic, she replied, "Okay." After all, the apartment was clean and there was nothing there to hide. At home Gladys was stumped for what to wear. She had nearly exhausted her wardrobe of career clothing. She didn't have any evening wear. The only thing suitable that she hadn't worn to the office was a wrap dress that was part of the wardrober collection. She decided to go with the look she had Tuesday. She decided to wear a regular bra rather than her longline because of the way the dress wrapped. Panties, garter belt, stockings. She had just finished dressing and applying her make-up when the doorbell rang. John Farber could not speak when he saw Gladys. The vision, which had caused him such consternation on Tuesday, was now before him again. Resisting the urge to grab her and kiss her, he nearly garbled, "You look beautiful, Gladys." "Thank you, Mr. Farber," Gladys responded, stepping outside. As they rode to the restaurant Farber asked her, "Have you ever eaten at Il Venezia?" "Oh no! I never could afford a place like that, Mr. Farber!" "Call me John. You'll like it. The food is superb, the ambience is Old World, and the service is great!" Il Venezia was everything John had said it was. John did the ordering, and Gladys enjoyed each of his selections. Especially the wine. Gladys got a bit tipsy and nearly went into the men's room rather than the ladies'. When she returned, Gladys asked, "Do I pay or should I give you the credit card?" "Don't worry about that. You're my date tonight." Gladys giggled and drank the last of the wine. As they left the restaurant, Gladys experienced her first unsteadiness in heels in a long time. She leaned against John, who put his arm around her. They drove to Gladys' apartment in silence. As she was escorted her door, Gladys was thinking only of the enjoyable evening she was having. She had some difficulty putting the key in the lock, so John took the keys and opened the door for her. John guided her inside, closing the door behind them. She turned to thank him for a lovely evening only to have him take her in his arms and kiss her. Gladys was shocked. Still tipsy, she tried to clear her head as she realized she was being pushed toward the bedroom. "Mr. Farber... John... Mr. Farber... what are you doing?" Farber did not reply. All evening he had studied Gladys, figuring out how her dress fastened. As they entered the bedroom he undid the clasp at the side and pulled the dress open. He grabbed her again and kissed her roughly, waltzing her backwards until she bumped into the bed and fell onto it backwards, John on top of her. By now Gladys was aware of Farber's intentions. "No, Mr. Farber... I'm not that way... Please, John... don't!" Her pleas went unheeded. Farber stood and looked down at her. All he saw was a pretty woman, her face framed by her blonde hair, her white body against the darker material of the dress, her legs in stockings attached to the garter belt at her waist. And a thong! He unfastened his pants and pushed them down as Gladys continued to protest that she was not that way. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was about to fuck a man, but it was way back there. He grabbed her legs and pushed them up and back until the knees were nearly touching Gladys' bra. He pulled the crotch of the thong aside revealing the crack of her ass. Kneeling on the bed, he crawled forward until his dick pressed against that crack. He pressed forward, ignoring Gladys' screams as he entered her. He lay on top of her, pumping in and out as he tried to kiss her. Gladys kept rolling her head from side to side, constantly saying, "No... Don't... Please... I'm not that way." Farber heard none of it. He was making love to a beautiful and desirable woman; Gladys was being raped. John came, buried deep in Gladys' ass. The sensation was as good as any woman he had been with. For the first time in a long while, he did not deflate after coming. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at the tear- streaked face beneath him. Gladys' eyes were still closed and she kept repeating: "No... Don't... Please... I'm not that way." like a mantra. God, John thought, I just raped somebody! Then it hit him: I just fucked a man! But as he looked at Gladys' shaped eyebrows, painted eyelids, glossed lips, he did not see a man. As he felt the softness of her bra against his chest, the fact that that softness was foam rubber did not dawn on him. And that the hole his now resuscitated cock was in was an asshole, not a vagina. He knew he had hurt her and wanted to caress her and comfort her, but when he went to touch her face, Gladys just turned away, reciting her mantra. Rejection brought out something cruel in Farber. "Yes you are," he spat. He began fucking her again, this time more forcefully. He grabbed her head and held it still while he kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Gladys ceased resisting, and let him have his way with her. It took longer for him to come the second time, but when he did he went soft. He pulled out and stood, looking down at Gladys. The thong had settled in the crack of her ass, and his come oozed around it, pooling on the inside of the dress. With the front of the thong still covering Gladys' cock, she looked like a sexy, fresh-fucked woman. John knew he had to have her again. He pulled his pants up enough to waddle into the bathroom where he cleaned himself. Dressed and composed, he took one last look at Gladys before heading for the door. On the drive home he thought about how to make it up to her, how to let her know that he wanted to make love to her, not rape her. Flowers. She liked the bouquet Kinshaw sent. I'll do the same. Yeah. She's now a woman, right. Yeah, flowers. GLADYS (c) 2/27/03 EUGENE WEBBER