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This story may not be re-posted without the permission of the author. OVER-EXPOSURE By Lana B. Ken read the book as he rested comfortably in bed with his head propped up against the padded headboard. He'd already read this particular book several times but he returned to it every now and then to browse some of his favorite passages. It was, after all, no ordinary book. Ken had written it himself. He closed it and gazed at the title: "Confidential Scandal." And right below the title he saw the byline: "by Kenneth Huff." "Confidential Scandal" concerned the sport of professional boxing. More specifically the book dealt with the disrepute, notoriety and damage many boxers and their managers and promoters had inflicted on the sport. Ken had blown the lid off the entire boxing scene by uncovering the prevalence of bribes, fixes, threats and other assorted immoral and criminal activities extant in professional prizefighting. But most significantly, his exposure of boxing's unseemly underbelly had had far-reaching positive effects on the sport. Ken was proud of the job he'd done. And he'd reaped material benefits as well. The book had left him rich and famous. He felt senses of pride and self-satisfaction wash over him. He reflected on his successful career as an investigative journalist. For as long as he could remember he'd wanted to be a reporter. When he was younger he loved to read Superman comic books. But unlike the other kids who'd idolized the super-hero Ken had read the comics to follow the exploits of cub reporter Jimmy Olson. To Ken the mortal reporter was the real star and central point of the comic book. When Ken was in high school he became a reporter for the school newspaper. He mainly covered varsity sporting events and social events like the prom. But his crowning achievement had been his expos? of the school lunch program. Ken had uncovered evidence that the school cafeteria manager accepted lower-than-permissible quality foodstuffs in exchange for bribes. He'd written a story about it in the school newspaper and it'd caused quite a stir. The manager had been fired and the supplier's contract terminated. And Ken had basked in the limelight. He'd become as popular with the girls as most of the school's jocks. When Ken graduated from high school he skipped college and went directly to work. He got a job as an apprentice reporter for the New York Post. And three years later he was promoted to the position of beat reporter in the newspaper's sports division where he was assigned to cover ice hockey and boxing. He'd never really cared much for hockey. But he wouldn't allow his dislike for the sport to compromise his work ethic. He fully and fairly reported on hockey as if it were his passion. He wouldn't permit his personal preferences to disadvantage his readers. But boxing was something else altogether. Ken had always loved the sport. He'd grown up watching boxing matches on television with his father. In fact his father had been an amateur boxer who'd sparred with the likes of Sugar Ray Leonard and Roberto Duran. In covering professional boxing for the paper Ken had heard all the sordid rumors of graft and corruption in the sport. But nothing had ever been proven. There was innuendo to spare but no one who ran in boxing's inner circles had been willing to provide Ken with tangible proof of improprieties. Ken resolved to get to the bottom of the matter. He'd thoroughly investigate the sport of professional boxing for illegal activities and, if found, fully expose it for all to see. He knew that he'd have difficulty prying information from the sport's players. If corruption existed they'd conceal it to protect their own skins and wallets. So Ken decided that he needed to be a player too. He'd become a professional boxer. Ken had a good background to build on. His father, who'd tragically died of a heart attack 3 years ago, had taught him how to defend himself as a young boy. Mr. Huff kept a speed bag and heavy bag in the basement of the family home and Ken had frequently practiced on the equipment. And he'd become quite good at pounding the bags. He'd also become proficient at skipping rope and sparring with his father. The boxing lessons his father gave him had come in quite handy as he progressed through high school. Ken wasn't tall for his age or tough- looking and school bullies periodically attempted to take advantage of his perceived weakness. But Ken had surprised them all. He'd given the larger boys severe beatings. It had been a classic case of size doesn't matter. Ken put his plan to investigate professional boxing in motion. He joined Carney's Gym on the Lower East Side and trained there after work every day and on weekends. And after three months he'd caught the eye of Jonnie Gleason, a crusty 68-year-old semi-retired trainer. Gleason liked what he'd seen and agreed to train Ken on the finer points of pugilism. Ken was 5'7" tall and weighed 151 pounds. Gleason believed he was a classic welterweight. So Ken shed a few pounds to make the welterweight division limit of 147 pounds. Ken incrementally improved his skills and 4 months after he'd come under Gleason's wing he had his first amateur fight. And he'd knocked out his opponent in the first round with a sweet left hook that landed squarely on the jaw. Ken had 27 amateur fights in 13 months and amassed an undefeated record. All but one of the fights had ended in either a knockout or technical knockout. Gleason decided it was time for Ken to turn professional and arranged a fight with a lowly regarded welterweight. Ken knocked out his opponent in the third round with a perfectly timed left hook-right cross combination to the head. Ken took a leave of absence from his job at the paper to pursue his professional boxing career on a full-time basis. His co-workers wished him well and urged him on. Gleason became Ken's manager as well as his trainer and kept him busy. He scheduled a fight for Ken every two months. He found opponents who were more and more proficient. And Ken continued to excel. After two years he had an undefeated record of 13-0. And that's when something unusual happened. All three of professional boxing's sanctioning bodies ranked him in the top ten of welterweight contenders. Ken had been taken by surprise and questioned his trainer over the development. "What the hell's going on Jonnie? I've only had 13 fights. How did I break into the top ten so fast?" Gleason shook his head at his boxer's naivet?. "Welcome to the politics of boxing kid. It's no big surprise." "I don't understand Jonnie." "Okay. It's like this. Most of the best fighters in the division are Latino or African American. If you haven't noticed you're white." "So? What does that have to do with anything?" "You've been anointed the great white hope of the welterweight division." "I'm not sure I'm following you." "You're a welterweight version of Jess Willard. He's the guy who beat Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion." Gleason could see that Ken didn't fully comprehend the implications of what he'd just been told. "Look kid, a lot of fans want to see a white welterweight champion. And the promoters could make a bundle giving the people what they want. And so could you and I for that matter. Am I getting through to you?" "You're saying I was given a high ranking just because I'm white? That's not right Jonnie." "For crying out loud kid, don't look a gift horse in the mouth!" Ken shook his head in astonishment. He couldn't believe that race was a factor in professional boxing's ranking system. Over the next several months Ken discovered a number of other unsettling practices in professional prizefighting. Boxers paid money to sanctioning bodies for higher rankings. Promoters and mobsters paid off or threatened boxers to lose fights in order to advance the careers of other fighters. Boxers bribed promoters for a higher standing on the fight bill. Referees and judges were pressured or bribed to give or take away points from fighters. And promoters black-balled fighters, managers and trainers who'd refused to cooperate with them. Ken had even heard a story of a boxer who'd been killed for refusing to throw a fight. His source had told him that the fighter had been shot dead and buried in the marshlands of southern New Jersey. As he came across instances of wrongdoing and transgressions Ken made every effort to document his findings. He carried out a number of black-bag jobs and photocopied records and ledgers kept by unscrupulous promoters that chronicled the details of their shady undertakings. He paid a secretary of a crooked manager for copies of confidential letters setting forth illegal arrangements. And he secretly taped his own conversations with other boxers and their trainers and managers. Ken had one more fight in his short but illustrious boxing career. He met Luther Johnson, the fifth-ranked welterweight contender, in a hard- fought contest in Cleveland, Ohio. The fight went the distance and Ken was awarded a split decision. Ken earned $75,000 for fighting Luther Johnson, his biggest payday yet. But he knew he'd never advance much further in the division on merit. The top three contenders were much better fighters than Luther Johnson. And the unified welterweight champion, Oscar "The Nightmare" Nunez, was a 147 pound version of Muhammad Ali. Ken knew he wouldn't stand a chance against Nunez. Besides Ken had accumulated enough information to write his story. It was time to return to his real job as a reporter. So Ken abruptly retired from boxing. Jonnie Gleason was flabbergasted at hearing the news and passionately implored him to reconsider. But Ken stuck to his guns. He'd told his trainer, "My decision's final Jonnie. It's time to move on. I'll never be champion while Nunez is around and he's only 28 years old. What's the sense?" "You can beat Nunez. This is professional boxing. Anything's possible kid. Things can be arranged." "I want no part of that crap Jonnie. I'm out." So Ken retired from boxing and a month later he returned to the New York Post to resume his career as a sports reporter. And shortly thereafter he wrote a series of stories exposing professional boxing for the hoax and fraud it had become. Ken's series captured the attention of a wide audience. Casual readers were captivated by his tales of deceit and corruption. Sports fans were allured to his exposure of widespread fraud amidst a seemingly legitimate sport. And politicians found a popular issue to hang their hats on. Ken's stories precipitated a whirlwind of activity. Congressional hearings were held. Formal inquiries were made by numerous State Athletic Commissions. Even the President, a life-long sports fan, expressed his unhappiness with the situation when asked about it in a nationally televised press conference. And when the smoke had cleared remedial action was taken. The sport of professional boxing was placed under the jurisdiction of a national governing body. Ken's popular boxing series yielded substantial material benefits for him. He was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. And although he didn't win the award the nomination alone had garnered considerable publicity which led several publishing houses to offer him a book deal. Ken weighed the offers and accepted a deal from a publishing house that specialized in sports books. He was given a six-figure advance and a year later put the final touches on "Confidential Scandal." The book was a smash hit. It stayed on the New York Times non-fiction best seller list for over a year. The reading public was enthralled by the experiences of someone who'd actually become a successful prizefighter to surreptitiously uncover corruption in the sport. Ken had become famous and wealthy from the success of his book. He'd banked millions and hired an investment counselor to diversify his portfolio. He decided to resign from his job at the New York Post. Billy Myers, the paper's sports editor, had begged him to stay but Ken expressed his gratitude and gave Myers the customary two weeks' notice. Ken placed the book back on the night-table. He considered that he'd left his job at the paper six months ago and hadn't worked since. He'd rested, relaxed and enjoyed his new-found fame and wealth by dining in plush restaurants and taking week-long vacations in Bermuda, Puerto Rico and Montreal. But he'd become restless. He knew it was time to return to work. Ken decided that he'd write another book. All he needed was a controversial issue to examine. He turned off the light and slipped under the covers. He thought hard for 15 minutes but couldn't come up with a topic for his next book. But he was confident he'd think of a suitable subject to investigate and expose as the darkness of sleep fell over him. *** Ken awoke and gazed at the clock-radio. It was 9:25. He got out of bed and showered. He then dressed and left his Park Avenue apartment. He made his way down to the street and headed for The Caffeine Jolt, his favorite coffee shop. When he got to Lexington Avenue he noticed the mass of people across the street on the sidewalk in front of the Sinclair Hotel. Some carried placards. They appeared to be demonstrating about something. He became curious. He crossed the street and approached one of the demonstrators in the rear of the mob. She was a middle-aged woman with grayish hair and she carried a poster depicting a rather ill-looking rabbit. And in large red letters the poster was inscribed: "STOP RUBY DANYON AND HER CRUELTY TO ANIMALS." Ken walked up to the woman. "Excuse me ma'am. I'm a newspaper reporter. What's going on here?" The woman looked him up and down. She appeared satisfied. "There's a cosmetics convention in this hotel and some of the companies experiment on animals." "Experiment on animals?" "That's right. They test their new products on animals. And some of the cosmetics cause terrible side-effects. Animals are living beings. They shouldn't be subjected to things like that. It isn't right. It ought to stop." Ken nodded in agreement. He looked at the poster again. "Who's Ruby Danyon?" "She's in charge of Savoy Cosmetics. That's the worst company. They torture and maim innocent animals for profit. Animals are God's creatures too Mister. This has to end!" Ken noticed a commotion near the hotel's entrance. "Thank you for your time ma'am." "Write a story about this in your newspaper Mister. People have to realize what's going on!" "I'll do that." Ken turned away from the woman and inched his way through the crowd. He saw a black limousine parked at the curbside in front of the hotel. The chauffeur stepped out of the limo and opened the rear door. Ken watched as a tall redhead in a mink coat exited the vehicle. She was stunning. The crowd chanted and yelled at her. Someone loudly shouted, "Murderer! Murderer!" A contingent of four men in black suits quickly exited the hotel. They ran to the redhead's side and encircled her. The men ushered her through the menacing crowd and into the hotel. Ken detected a vague notion of intrigue hatch in the back of his mind as he slipped away from the crowd and continued on to the coffee shop. *** Ken sat before his computer. He'd returned from breakfast two hours ago and had spent the time on the Internet researching Savoy Cosmetics. The fervor displayed by the demonstrators he'd witnessed this morning had provoked his interest. Ken discovered a number of interesting things about Savoy Cosmetics. Ruby Danyon had started the company seven years ago by rolling her life savings of $125,000 into it. She'd targeted young girls between the ages of 13 and 19. And she'd advertised her cosmetics line exclusively on MTV to reach her demographic audience. The television advertisements worked. Young girls had been attracted to the flashy ads and bought Savoy's products. Ruby Danyon used her early profits to expand the company's cosmetics line. And she'd also hired two young pop divas to endorse Savoy's products and make a series of advertisements for broadcast on commercial television. Ruby Danyon's strategy worked like a charm. Seven years after its inception Savoy Cosmetics had cornered a 76% share of the cosmetics market for girls 13 to 19-years-old. Danyon became rich selling cosmetics to young girls. But her wealth had not come without controversy. Innuendo, criticism and gossip regarding her business practices and personal life abounded. Consistent with the demonstration he'd seen this morning Ken came across accusations that Savoy Cosmetics experimented on animals. Several animal cruelty websites charged the company with testing new cosmetics on rabbits, ferrets and rhesus monkeys to evaluate the products for adverse side-effects such as skin sensitivity and eye irritation. Savoy Cosmetics vehemently denied the charges. Ruby Danyon challenged her detractors to substantiate their allegations. "Let them put up or shut up," she'd told a reporter in a televised interview. Ken saw that the European Union had recently banned the use of animals to test cosmetic products. While the practice wasn't technically illegal in this country evidence had never been found that American cosmetics companies experimented on animals within the borders of the 50 states. They wouldn't dare expose themselves to the adverse publicity which could put their profits at risk. The companies universally denied the practice of experimenting on animals. Some American cosmetics companies, however, were accused of secretly practicing animal experimentation on foreign soil where it was difficult, if not impossible, to substantiate. Savoy Cosmetics was one such company. Ken had also read that Ruby Danyon didn't seem to like men. She'd surrounded herself with female advisors. All of the corporate officers and board directors at Savoy Cosmetics were women. Even the attorneys and accountants Danyon used were women. Malicious gossip about Danyon's sexual preferences swirled around her. Some claimed she was a man-hating lesbian. They'd even contemptuously dubbed her inner circle as "Danyon's Dykeocracy." Ken felt the eye strain from glaring at the monitor for two hours. He turned away from the screen and considered. A story began to take shape in his mind. He went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face and eyes. He then returned to his computer and initiated a new search. *** Ken brought the fork up to his mouth and tasted the eggplant parmesan. It was delicious. "This is terrific Angie. It's the best you've ever made." "Yeah? Thanks Ken. It's a new recipe I got from one of the girls at work." Ken looked at his friend sitting across from him at the dining room table. Angie Romero was as beautiful as she was a great cook. Her father was Italian and her mother Spanish and Angie had inherited the best features from both. She had a fine olive complexion and long straight black hair. Her eyes were big and brown and her lips full and supple. Her nose was rather long and linear and her contoured face came to an end at a finely pointed chin. She was about 5'8" tall and 130 pounds and had a well-rounded figure. Angie was classically beautiful in a Mediterranean sort of way. Ken had met Angie while working at the New York Post. She was the paper's fashion editor. They'd hit it off as soon as they met and had become good friends. And a few months later they'd had sex after they both consumed one-too-many margaritas to celebrate Angie's 27th birthday. They'd realized they were a good sexual fit for each other and had continued on with their intimate escapades. They weren't so much boyfriend-girlfriend as they were fuck buddies. But over the past several months they'd become closer to one another. They'd even made an informal arrangement that if they hadn't married by the time they were 35 then they'd marry each other. Ken wanted Angie's opinion on his plan. "I'd like to run something by you Angie." "Sure. What?" "I think I've found a topic for my next book." Yeah? That's great Ken. What is it?" "Well, it may sound a little bizarre at first but I want you to hear me out. Okay?" "Alright." "I'm going to go after animal experimentation in the cosmetics industry." "That's great. I've heard about some of the atrocities inflicted on those poor creatures." Angie looked a little puzzled. "But what's so bizarre about that?" "Well, there's one company I'm pursuing. Savoy Cosmetics. Maybe you've heard of them?" "Yeah. I have. They market themselves to teenagers I believe." "That's right. The company's run by women." Ken paused. "And?" "Well, to have a chance of getting close to their inner circle I've got to become a woman." "Become a woman? What are you talking about Ken?" "Well, I don't mean I'm going to become a woman." Ken paused again. "Well, I will a little I suppose." Angie had a perplexed expression. "You're not making sense Ken." Ken gathered his thoughts. "Okay. Here's the gist of it. In order to successfully investigate Savoy I need to get close to their main players. Company officials and board members. Hopefully even Ruby Danyon. She's the company's president and CEO." "I've heard of her." "Right. And to get close to them I've got to make them believe I'm a woman. They apparently have little or no dealings with men." "But how in the world are you going to do that?" "Have you ever heard of transsexualism?" "Isn't that where a man or woman believes they were meant to be the opposite sex?" "That's right. And a lot of transsexuals undergo hormonal and surgical reassignment treatment to change their gender. I've researched the whole thing on the Internet." Angie nodded. She thought for a moment and the realization set in. "You've got to be joking. You're going to have medical treatment to change your gender to female?" "Well, I'll have partial treatment." "Partial treatment? What does that mean?" "I'll pretend I'm a transsexual Angie. I'll see a doctor and go on hormones. I'll go through the process until I convincingly look like a woman. But I naturally won't go through with the last step." "The last step?" "Sexual reassignment surgery." "Oh." "And when I reach the point where I can pull off the charade I'll apply for a job with Savoy. Then I'll be in a position to investigate the whole animal experimentation question. And if it's true I'll blow the cover off the whole thing." Angie considered. "That's a pretty drastic way of going about it Ken." "It's the only effective way Angie. I learned that from when I exposed the boxing scandal. If you want to get the inside information then you've got to get close to the main players." "But what if you get a job at Savoy and discover there aren't any improprieties? Maybe they don't experiment on animals. Then look what you'll have gone through for nothing. Where's your story then?" "I've thought about that Angie. I'll still have a story." "What story?" "I'll get a different job and write a book about what it's like to be a woman in the work- place. You know, a lady working in a man's world, but from a man's point of view. I'll explore the issue of sexual discrimination and harassment of working women." "Hmm. You may have something there." "This has the potential to be as big as 'Confidential Scandal' Angie." Angie nodded. As bizarre as Ken's plan sounded she couldn't disagree with his conclusion. *** "Are you really sure Ken? Do you have any reservations at all about this?" "I'm sure Dr. Norton. I have no reservations at all. For as long as I can remember I've always wanted to be a girl. I've always felt that I should have been born female." This was his third appointment with Dr. Ralph Norton, a psychiatrist at The Transgender Institute, a reputable sexual dysphoria facility in midtown Manhattan. Ken hoped he'd finally convinced Dr. Norton to commence the therapy. "Okay Ken. Let's go over the protocols." "Alright." "In order to have sexual reassignment surgery you first have to undergo at least 12 months of hormonal therapy. That means you'll be given estrogen and progesterone. They're female hormones. And as a result of taking these medications your skin will soften. Fatty tissue will redistribute from your shoulders and elsewhere to your hips and rear end. You'll grow breasts and develop curves. You'll experience female emotions. The production of testosterone by your testicles will be suppressed. And you may become unable to attain an erection. Do you understand?" "Yes Dr. Norton. That's what I want." "And you'll also have to live and work as a woman for at least 12 continuous months." "I understand." "And before you can have surgical reassignment a qualified health professional who's been acquainted with your case has to make a recommendation for surgery. As your psychiatrist I can make the recommendation when the time comes." "Good Doc. That's what I'm shooting for." Dr. Norton studied his patient. He'd been persuaded that Ken Huff was an appropriate candidate for sexual reassignment treatment. He reached into his desk drawer and came away with a pad. "I'm writing you a prescription for female hormones Ken." Ken watched as Dr. Norton finished writing and tore the paper from the pad. "Here." The doctor handed Ken the prescription. "You can get this filled for a reasonable price at our pharmacy on the sixth floor." "Thanks Doc." "You're welcome." Ken got up to leave. "We're not finished yet. Pull down your pants." "Pull down my pants?" "Yes. I'm going to give you an estrogen shot. I've found that I get much quicker results when I combine injections with oral medication Ken." *** Ken stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. He exited the bathroom and headed for the bedroom. He felt his breasts gently bounce as he took each step. He stood before the bedroom wall mirror and studied his reflection. He paid particular attention to his budding breasts. Three months had elapsed since he'd gone on female hormones and he'd grown breasts. They were an A-cup at best but they were clearly visible. Ken wiggled a bit and watched as his small breasts bounced and swirled. They felt so strange and foreign. And they tugged at his chest too. He'd shown them to Angie last night and she'd said he was ready for a training bra. She told him she'd buy a few pair for him. Ken examined himself and noticed a few subtle changes. His face appeared rounder and softer. His beard, which had always been very light, had all but disappeared. His brown hair had grown to the point where it fell an inch or more past his ears, obscuring them. He also observed the emergence of slight curves. His waist had tapered a bit and his hips had sprouted some. Even his legs looked a little shapely. He'd gone on a low carb diet which undoubtedly contributed to his slighter appearance but he knew that the hormones were the primary cause of his newer and softer look. He gazed between his legs and saw his old pals down there. His penis and scrotum dangled freely as they always had. He could see no change in his genitals and was thankful for that. He'd read on the Internet of a case where a male-to-female transsexual's genitalia had withered and atrophied from long-term exposure to female hormones. Ken wanted no part of that. He returned to the bathroom and stepped onto the scale. He saw that he weighed 138 pounds. As an adult he'd never been this light before. But then again, he thought, he'd never attempted to masquerade as a woman before. He dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt and sneakers. He needed a belt to keep his pants up but other than that everything else was the same. And then he felt his breasts wiggle as he took a step. 'Oh well. It's all the same except for that I guess.' Ken left his apartment and made his way to the subway station. He had two classes in marketing and public relations at Pace College this morning. He'd enrolled at the school a week after he'd commenced his treatment. He hoped the courses would help him gain a position with Savoy Cosmetics in their New York office on Madison Avenue. He kept his fingers crossed for good luck as he stepped down into the subway station. Two months later... "How's everything going Ken?" "Pretty good so far Doc." Dr. Norton studied his patient from behind his oak desk. He saw that he wore jeans, a loosely fitting black sweat shirt and sneakers. "I see you're still wearing your old clothes. How's the adjustment coming along?" "Uh... adjustment?" "Yes. How are you adjusting to the changes in your body?" Ken thought about the question. His breasts had continued to grow and the training bra he'd worn for the past few weeks had become a little tight. And the curves at his waist and hips had become more pronounced. He'd also noticed that his rear end had taken on a rather padded and full appearance. "I'm adjusting to the changes just fine." "When do you plan on changing your wardrobe? To women's clothes I mean?" Ken had been putting that decision off. He knew the time was quickly approaching where he'd be unable to stall it much further. "I don't know Doc. It's only been four or five months. Maybe in another month or two I figure?" "Are you really sure you want to go through with this thing Ken? Most male-to-female transsexuals I've treated can't wait to discard their male clothes." "Absolutely Dr. Norton. I really want this." "Well, I'd like to see a few changes when I see you next month Ken." "Changes?" "Yes. I want you to appear more feminine. Wear women's clothes. And maybe a little makeup too. I want to see the adjustment with my own eyes. Alright?" Ken swallowed. "Sure. No problem." "Good. Now pull down your pants." *** It was the night before Ken's next appointment with Dr. Norton and Angie was helping him prepare. Ken had told her about the doctor's expectations and she'd volunteered to help. Angie held his hand and ran the emery board over his nails. She'd instructed him to stop clipping his nails last month and she was shaping them into oval points. Ken saw that they were only about a quarter of an inch past his fingertips but they looked so strange shaped like that. Ken watched as Angie took the bottle of red nail polish out of her purse. "Whoa! I'm not wearing that stuff!" "What are you talking about? It'll make your hands look nice." "I'm... I'm not ready for that yet Angie." "Okay, okay." She went back to her purse and this time came away with a bottle of clear polish. "Angie, I said..." She abruptly cut him off. "Look Ken. Dr. Norton said he wanted to see some changes, right? Don't you want to show him you're serious about this?" Ken had a defeated expression. "Yeah. You're right. Go ahead." He watched as she ran the small brush over his nails. He continued to watch as the clear shiny polish dried. He was fascinated at how feminine his hands looked now. Angie saw the look of wonder on his face and smiled. "See. I told you. Your hands look nice like that. Now I want to show you how to put lipstick on." "But..." "Come on Ken. You told me Dr. Norton mentioned makeup. Stop resisting." "Okay." She handed him her compact and instructed him to watch in the small mirror as she applied a light coat of red lipstick to his lips. And she gave him handy tips as she worked. She finished and reminded him, "This is what you have to do before you leave for your appointment tomorrow morning Ken." He sheepishly nodded his assent. For the next twenty minutes Angie trimmed and styled his hair. She parted it down the middle and brushed it out. His wavy brown hair had grown to the point where it fell to the top of his shoulders and it looked quite nice when she'd finished. She gave him a small hand- mirror. "Here. Have a look." Ken examined his reflection and felt his heart jump. The long and stylish hair joined together with the red lips to make him look quite feminine. He knew that he shouldn't be surprised because that had been the whole point. But he was surprised anyway. Angie broke his concentration. "You know, I was thinking Ken. Maybe I can stay here tonight so I can help you get ready tomorrow morning. I can sleep, you know, on the couch." Ken knew that Angie had created an awkward moment for both of them but she was obviously willing to force the issue. They hadn't spent the night together for months. Ken hadn't made a move on her since he'd grown breasts. He was afraid of how she'd react to his new growths in bed. "Uh... fine. Thanks Angie." *** Ken climbed into his bed and slipped under the covers. He thought fondly of Angie. She'd been so helpful and encouraging. And he was happy to have her company. They'd ordered Chinese takeout and watched a video afterwards as they worked off a bottle of chilled white wine. He wanted to get a good night's sleep before his appointment with Dr. Norton tomorrow. And the wine had made him drowsy. So he'd fetched a blanket and pillow for Angie and excused himself. Ken was on the verge of falling asleep. He could feel himself go under. He sensed movement. He thought he was dreaming. He opened his eyes and turned onto his other side where he touched and smelled her. "But Angie..." She put a finger to his mouth, silencing him. She slowly slipped her finger away and replaced it with her mouth. He responded and their tongues met. They passionately kissed but Ken worried. He remained flaccid. And then Angie took his breasts in her hands and fondled them. He felt himself go hard and mounted her to strike while the iron was hot. He entered her and they rocked back and forth. They knew each other well and were practiced in the art of holding out for as long as they could to prolong the rapture. And they finally came together just as they always had. It had been as good as ever. Ken rolled off her and softly kissed her. "Thanks Angie. I needed that." "It was my pleasure." They giggled at the little joke and kissed once more. *** Angie clasped his bra from behind and spun him around. "Hmm. This looks a little snug. How does it feel Ken?" "You're right. It's tight." "I'll pick up some new bras for you today. It won't be long before you match me Ken. Here. Put these on." She handed him a pair of white cotton panties. He slipped into the underwear and when he looked up he saw Angie holding a pair of pantyhose. "Nylons Angie? Is that really necessary?" "You want to impress Dr. Norton, don't you?" "Well... yeah." "Wearing nylons will help you do that. And besides Ken, women wear these things. If you intend to successfully pose as a woman you've got to get used to things like nylons. You've got to stop resisting." Ken knew that Angie was right. If he was going to pull this thing off he'd have to become accustomed to all of the changes in his body and his new wardrobe. He knew that he had to establish the illusion of appearing female in order to succeed in the project he'd undertaken. After all that was the whole point of taking hormones. But he hadn't anticipated that he'd find the whole process so embarrassing. Every time he looked at himself in the mirror or felt how soft he'd become he questioned his own masculinity. He'd always liked the ladies and now he was slowly becoming one himself. It was as if he was turning into an object of his own desire. The experience was weirdly erotic and humiliating all at once. Ken resolved to deal with it. He realized he had no choice. He wasn't prepared to abandon the project. More than anything else he wanted to write this book. He knew there was a good story here. 'Just go with the flow for God's sake!' He looked at Angie. She'd been so helpful and supportive. He thought back to last night and smiled. "I want to thank you Angie. For helping me through this whole thing. I'm not sure I could do it without your help." "Hey, what are friends for?" She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Here. Let's slip these on." Angie helped him with the nylons and gave him handy tips as she pulled them up his legs and over his waist. "Take a few steps Ken. You'll be surprised." He walked a few paces and impulsively smiled. The stockings produced an erotic sensation on his thighs and calves that he found more to his liking than he cared to admit. "See. I told you Ken." He felt a little embarrassed at his reaction to the nylons. 'Stop it! You've got to get used to this!' Angie pulled a pair of black cotton slacks and a white silk blouse from her suitcase. "Okay. Time for some outerwear. These are mine Ken. We're about the same size so they should fit you just fine." Ken realized that Angie was being charitable. He was at least an inch shorter than her. He knew that Angie thoughtfully wore flats in his presence to avoid making their height difference more pronounced. She helped him slip into the clothes and then retrieved a pair of black leather shoes from the suitcase. Ken saw that they had high-heels. He was about to object but restrained himself. 'It's part of the masquerade. Deal with it, Goddammit!' He felt himself relax and was proud he'd been able to calm himself down. "These are 2 ?" heels Ken. They'll go nice with that outfit." Angie was pleasantly surprised that he stepped into the shoes without protest. For the next 15 minutes Ken practiced walking in the heels until he became reasonably comfortable in them. And then Angie made him up by applying a little foundation to his face and a light coat of red lipstick to his lips. She brushed his hair and proclaimed, "There it is. I'm done." Ken stood before the full-length mirror and shook his head in astonishment. He saw that he looked like someone else entirely. Someone who was well on his way to becoming a woman in appearance. *** Dr. Norton looked at his patient and smiled. "Now that's more like it Ken. You've done a nice job on yourself." He studied Ken closely and decided he appeared rather attractive. "Now remember, you've got to keep moving forward. Build on this Ken. It's a good start. Okay?" "Yeah Doc." "Have you thought about getting a job? You'll have to work as a woman for at least a year before you can have surgery Ken." "Yeah. I remember. I'm going to start looking around for work in the next few weeks Doc." He'd actually sent a resume to Savoy Cosmetics two days ago. "Well, do you want your employer to know you're a male-to-female transsexual or do you wish to conceal that information Ken?" He thought for a moment. For obvious reasons he certainly didn't want Savoy Cosmetics to know his real identity. Even if his original plan didn't pan out and he ended up working elsewhere he'd need to conceal his true identity as well. A book about unequal treatment of women in the workplace certainly wouldn't succeed if his co-workers knew he was a biological male. He had to be perceived and treated as a real woman if he hoped to write an authentic book. "I think I'd like to conceal the information Doc." "Then we're going to have to effectuate a name change now." "Why?" "If you don't want them to know you're a transsexual, Ken, then you'll need new identity papers. A woman's identity papers." "Oh. I see." Dr. Norton telephoned the Documentation Department on the 7th Floor and made an appointment for Ken. He got up to leave. "See you next month Doc." "There is one more thing Ken." "What?" "If you don't want your employer to know you're transgendered then you may want to consider a little facial cosmetic surgery. It'll help you pass as a woman better." Ken was puzzled. "What type of surgery are you talking about?" "For starters you should have your Adam's apple shaved off. It's not that large but it is noticeable. And maybe a nose job to remove the small bump and make it a bit smaller. And a little procedure to round off your chin a bit. It's a little too square now. And you should also see one of our speech therapists to learn how to modulate your voice so you sound like a woman Ken." "Oh." Ken considered. "I'll think about it Doc." *** Ken looked at his face in the mirror. Dr. Norton was right. All the things he'd mentioned might prevent him from passing as a woman. He'd discussed it with Angie last night and she'd agreed with the doctor. "I think he's raised a good point Ken. Those things will make you look and sound more feminine. They'll definitely help you pass as a woman," she'd said. "But when this whole thing's over I want to look like a man again Angie," he'd stressed. "Once you stop taking hormones, Ken, you'll look male again. Maybe a little androgynous at worst. But you can always have cosmetic surgery to harden your features if necessary," she'd stated. Ken gazed at his reflection and considered. He knew that if his plan had any chance of working he'd have to pass as a woman with no questions asked. And he desperately wanted his plan to work. He was obsessed with recapturing the fame and glory he'd experienced when "Confidential Scandal" was released. He decided to have the cosmetic surgery. *** Ken carefully studied his face in the bathroom mirror and decided he no longer looked like himself. He'd had the recommended facial cosmetic surgery a month ago and it had changed his appearance more than he'd imagined. He wondered whether he'd ever look like a man again. He saw that his nose was smaller now. It almost looked pert. His rounded face terminated in a soft point at the chin. His neck now appeared long and smooth, like a swan's neck. And the skin on his face looked so soft and smooth too. When he'd checked into the facility to have the cosmetic surgery he made a last-minute decision to also have laser electrolysis to remove a few isolated facial follicles. He studied himself further and saw that his hair had grown to the point where it fell past his shoulders and onto the top of his back. It framed his pretty face like a crown. He softly shook his head in disbelief and watched and felt his long hair swirl. He realized that even without makeup he no longer looked like a man. There was no question about it. "I look like a girl now." He suddenly felt his face redden. He rationalized that he wouldn't have to worry anymore about passing as a woman. "That's why I went through all of this." He immediately noticed that his voice sounded higher pitched and feminine. All those sessions with the speech therapist had really helped. He heard the mailman at the front door. He tightened the belt on his robe and exited the bathroom. Ken saw two pieces of mail on the floor beneath the door's mail slot. He retrieved them. He saw that one was a large manila envelope from The Transgender Institute and the other was a business envelope from Savoy Cosmetics. His heart raced. He didn't know which one to open first. On impulse he opened the manila envelope and set his sight on his new identification papers. He saw a Social Security card, driver's license and birth certificate. And they were all in the name of Karen Huff. He slowly said "Karen." It sounded so strange. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it. He opened the other envelope and unfolded the single piece of paper. He read the short letter: "Dear Ms. Huff- Thank you for your submission. I liked your ideas. Please present yourself at our office at 10:00am on Monday, March 9th for a job interview. Sincerely, Sherry Lane, Personnel Director." His heart raced again. In just four short days he'd be taking a job interview at Savoy Cosmetics. As if out of nowhere the pieces of the puzzle had begun to come together. *** The alarm clock on the night-table went off awakening Ken. He pressed the small round button to shut it off. He'd set the clock for 6:30am to give himself plenty of time to prepare for the interview. He went into the bathroom and relieved himself. He then took a relaxing shower. He enjoyed the feel of the warm water's fine spray on his breasts. He'd previously tried to ignore the delightful sensations that now came with showering but discovered that that was impossible. So he'd simply succumbed to this guilty pleasure. He toweled himself dry and slipped into a pair of white cotton panties. He then retrieved a matching bra from the dresser drawer and stepped over to the full-length mirror where he scrutinized his breasts. He saw that they were substantial now. They'd progressively grown over the past several months and were now as large as Angie's. Like her he was a B-cup. Ken shook his body a bit and watched and felt his breasts jiggle and bounce. They came to a stop and he could feel them tug at his chest. Although he'd had them for months he still couldn't get used to their look and feel. He slipped into the bra and struggled to fasten the rear clasp. In itself it was no easy task and his long nails had made it all the more difficult. He gazed at himself and saw how curvy he'd become. His waist had continued to thin and his hips had sprouted like yeast. And he looked and felt smaller now too. He recalled that he'd weighed only 128 pounds when he stepped onto the scale last night. He pulled himself away from the mirror and opened a new package of flesh tone pantyhose. He carefully pulled the nylons up his legs and over his waist. He exercised great care to avoid snagging the stockings with his nails. Ken spent the next half-hour putting on his makeup at the vanity he'd bought several weeks ago. Following all the tips and instructions Angie had given him he applied foundation, mascara and eyeliner. He ran the brown pencil over his brows which Angie had painfully plucked and shaped into two tapered arcs. And then he coated his lips with red lipstick. He looked at his reflection as he brushed his long and wavy dark brown hair. He was simply amazed at his appearance. It was unbelievable. 'Is that really me? I can't believe it. I look like an attractive woman now.' He shook his head. Ken placed the brush onto the vanity and glimpsed his hands. They looked so delicate and soft. And the long nails made them look so feminine. He retrieved the emery board and did some filing and shaping. He contoured his long nails into soft points. He held out his hands before him and examined their improbable appearance. He picked up the small bottle of red nail polish and considered. He'd never worn colored polish before but last night Angie had made a big fuss about it. "It'll help you pass Ken. And it'll show that you take pride in your appearance," she'd said. He unscrewed the cap and ran the small brush over his nails. He waited for the polish to dry and then applied a second coat. Ken extended his arms and saw how attractive his hands now looked with the long red nails capping his fingers. He begrudgingly conceded that Angie had been right. He arose and stepped over to the closet. He viewed several dresses which Angie had delivered yesterday afternoon before she flew off to Chicago to cover a fashion show. He looked down and saw the shoes she'd brought over too. He grasped the dark red floral print silk dress and looked at it. He carefully considered. It appealed to him since it matched his lips and nails. And he'd always liked the way Angie looked in that dress. He decided to wear it. Ken slipped the dress over his head and pulled it down onto himself. He reached around to his back and slowly hoisted the zipper. He felt the dress hug his body as if it were attaching itself to him. He looked down and scanned the shoes. He spotted the 3" black leather pumps and recalled that Angie had worn them with this dress. And he thought they'd match the black leather purse Angie had bought him for his birthday last month. He stepped into the high-heels and felt himself elevate. He then carefully walked back to the wall mirror and soaked it all in. Ken's first thought was that he needn't worry about passing as a woman. No one could conceivably believe that he was a man. Not looking like this. He shook his head in amazement. 'Can that really be me?' It was as if he were looking at someone else. Someone who, Ken decided, was a girl. And all at once realization set in that the attractive girl staring into his eyes was him. 'This is unbelievable.' He pulled himself away from the mirror and looked at the wall clock. He saw that it was 9:15. He decided it was time to go. He couldn't risk being late for the interview. Ken grabbed his purse and left the apartment. *** "Hello Ms. Huff. It's nice to meet you." Sherry Lane extended her arm and they shook hands. "Please sit down and make yourself comfortable." Ken sat on the chair in front of the desk. "Thank you. Please call me Karen?" "I was wondering about your first name. You signed your letter 'K. Huff.'" "Oh. Sorry about that." "No problem at all. Karen's such a pretty name. It fits you well." "Thank you Ms. Lane." "I'll return the favor. Why don't you call me Sherry?" "Okay." "I was really impressed by some of your ideas and recommendations Karen." "Really?" "Yes. I liked your suggestion to advertise our products in the media that young girls are attracted to. Television shows, radio programs and magazines that they like. It's all about the demographics you know. That's the way you've got to think to survive in this industry." "Yes. I know." "Of course we're already doing that. It's fairly fundamental. But do you know what really caught my eye Karen?" "My proposal for a Savoy backpack line?" "Exactly. What you've argued is true. Lots of high school girls lug their books and possessions around in backpacks. If we manufactured a line of backpacks we could put our name right on the item in big bold letters. Girls would see 'Savoy Cosmetics' every time they looked at their own or another girl's backpack. They'd see our name on other students' backs as they walked down the hall between classes. It's quite a good idea." "That's what I thought too Sherry. I figured why limit yourself to producing cosmetics? Why not make another product that could make money and at the same time advertise your brand name too?" "Exactly." Ken nervously watched as she read the paperwork he'd submitted. "I see that you don't have a college degree but you've taken a few courses at Pace in marketing and public relations." "Yes. I really liked those courses." "Are you married Karen? "No. I'm single." Sherry smiled. "Me too. You know we don't usually hire anyone without a college degree Karen. But I have a good feeling about you. Would you be willing to come on as an apprentice? It doesn't pay too much, about $30,000, but it's a start." "I'd love a position like that Sherry." "Could you report to work two weeks from today?" "Absolutely." "Good. It's a deal then. Go see Marge in Personnel. She'll set you up with all the necessary employment forms." *** Ken sat on his apartment couch and sipped white wine in celebration of his good fortune. The job interview had ended three hours ago but he still felt jubilant. He knew he'd fulfilled the most important condition of moving forward with his plan. He heard the door bell ring and opened the door. He set his gaze on Angie. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in Chicago?" Angie looked at him and smirked. "The show was cancelled. Half the models came down with the flu. I just got back. Hey, get a load of you! You look absolutely gorgeous! I can't believe it!" Ken blushed. "Uh... thanks. Come on in." They settled into the living room and Ken poured her a glass of wine. He handed it to her and broadly smiled. "Don't you look like the cat who ate the canary? Okay Ken, what gives? "A few hours ago I was hired as a marketing apprentice at Savoy Cosmetics. I start in two weeks Angie." "That's great Ken! Congratulations!" "I just want to tell you that I appreciate all the help you've given me Angie. Thanks." "You're welcome. Hey! What are your plans for today?" Ken considered. "I suppose I don't have any. Why?" "Then let's go shopping!" "Shopping? For what?" "For clothes silly. You're working in an office now. You need a wardrobe." "I suppose you're right Angie. Okay." That afternoon Ken extravagantly spent thousands of dollars building a wardrobe. He bought an abundance of dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, coats, underwear, makeup and accessories. And while shopping for jewelry at Macy's Angie had convinced him to get his ears pierced. *** Ken walked into his apartment and immediately kicked off his heels. His feet were killing him. He contemptuously glared at the 4" pumps. 'Why do I wear those things?' But he already knew the answer. He liked the way his legs looked in them. He changed into a comfortable denim skirt and cotton blouse and poured himself a glass of white wine. He retrieved an emery board and went to the living room where he sank into the sofa. Ken alternately sipped at the wine and filed his left thumbnail. He'd chipped it at work this afternoon and had been dismayed to discover he didn't have an emery board in his purse. The chipped nail had bothered him all day. He held out his thumb and inspected it. The flaw was gone. He smiled. Ken put his feet up on the coffee table and took a healthy gulp of wine. He reflected on the events of the past year. He'd been working at Savoy Cosmetics for almost 13 months now and had done quite well in establishing himself there. Three months after he'd arrived the company decided to proceed with his backpack proposal and in a rather bold and innovative move had placed him in charge of the project. He had to report directly to Sherry Lane but he'd been given the authority to make major decisions on design, marketing and advertising. And the move paid off handily. The Savoy backpack became an overnight success story. The new item had turned a tidy profit and Savoy saw a spike in the sale of its cosmetic products that marketing research had shown was directly connected to the success of the backpack. Ken had been given a bonus of $30,000 for his efforts. And three months ago he was promoted to the position of research and development analyst. He saw his salary more than double. Ken discovered that he really liked the work. It was challenging. He was responsible for supervising the ongoing backpack venture. And he was working up some other interesting development proposals too. He headed his own small division and supervised five girls who reported directly to him. Just like the backpack undertaking Ken had become somewhat of an overnight success too. But in contrast to his accomplishments in advancing his position in the company Ken had had no luck at all in uncovering any evidence that Savoy practiced animal experimentation. During the past year he'd scoured over a wealth of physical documents and computer files and had seen no reference to the matter. Ken decided that Savoy either didn't experiment on animals or it stored its records somewhere other than in its New York office. He really didn't know what to do next. He wondered whether he should abandon the investigation and move on to a different job. If he stayed here and failed to uncover evidence of animal experimentation he'd waste valuable time he could otherwise spend concentrating on his back- up project. He certainly wouldn't experience or uncover any evidence of sexual discrimination or harassment against women at Savoy simply because the company didn't have any men on its payroll. This outfit favored women. In that precise vein when Ken had come to work at Savoy it didn't take him long to verify the rumors about its hiring practices. He hadn't seen any men at all. He'd questioned Sherry Lane about it and she'd basically brushed him off. "Ruby Danyon simply wants to give women employment opportunities," she'd claimed. But Ken knew that there was more to it than that. A number of women at the company had asked him to lunch and dinner. They'd wanted to socialize and become friends. Ken had politely declined. He'd built a reputation as a loner. Ken knew that some of these women had been interested in more than simply exchanging chit-chat. He could tell by the way they'd acted and looked at him. Some of the bolder women had even openly flirted with him. He'd considered his experiences at Savoy Cosmetics and tried to settle on a course of action. He couldn't make a decision. So he discussed the roadblock he'd hit with Angie and asked for her advice. "I think it may be time to move on," he'd said. But she'd urged him to stay with the company a while longer. She'd reminded Ken that it had taken him more than two years as a professional boxer to accumulate the information he'd needed to write "Confidential Scandal." Ken had decided that Angie was right. He realized he shouldn't rush things. He resolved that he'd stay at Savoy for another year. Ken refilled his glass and took a sip of wine. He gazed at his hands and studied his long red nails. He'd grown accustomed to them over the past year. He rubbed the rim of his left thumbnail over the pad of his forefinger. He involuntarily smiled. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he liked the way his nails looked and felt. He reflected that he'd been masquerading as a woman for over a year now. He was proud of his accomplishment in fooling everyone at Savoy into thinking he was female. He knew that it hadn't been easy. The hard work had really paid off. Dressing as a woman and wearing makeup had by now come to be rather second nature to Ken. He really didn't even think about it that much. He basically just did it out of habit. He was more than a little reluctant to admit that he'd come to enjoy it somewhat. It had become fun to make himself look attractive. And there were so many options he could use to change his looks. There were all the different hairstyles, makeup combinations and ensembles. On the down side he'd lost the ability to attain an erection three months ago. But Dr. Norton had assured him that that was normal. "It's from taking female hormones for an extended period of time. The hormones suppress the testicles from producing testosterone. The phenomenon's called 'chemical castration' Ken," he'd explained. Ken was nonetheless concerned and researched the matter on the Internet. And he was greatly relieved to discover that men who'd experienced chemical castration from taking female hormones had usually regained the ability to have an erection a month or so after they'd discontinued the medication. Ken also worried he'd be unable to sexually satisfy Angie now that he couldn't achieve an erection. He'd questioned Dr. Norton about taking Viagra. "I'm against prescribing Viagra or similar medications to any of my patients who are taking female hormones Ken. It may not be safe. Research on this issue needs to be done," Dr. Norton had emphatically stated. It had turned out that Ken's concerns over his erectile incapacity had been unnecessary. Angie had assured him that he didn't need an erection to satisfy her. "You make wonderful use of your hands and mouth Ken," she'd told him. He was relieved and loved her all the more for it. But he knew that it would be preferable if he could have an erection. Especially for him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone this long without experiencing an orgasm. Ken toyed with the idea of discontinuing the hormones. But he worried that his body might masculinize if he did that. He decided he couldn't take that chance. 'It's the price I have to pay,' he rationalized. He thought of last month's session with Dr. Norton. He'd congratulated Ken on successfully living and working as a woman for over a year. "You've done a great job adjusting to it Karen. Would you like me to certify your readiness for sexual reassignment surgery?" he'd asked. Ken had told Dr. Norton that he'd like to prolong making that decision. Dr. Norton had been a bit surprised by Ken's reaction but he'd understood. "It's the final step Karen. It's irreversible. You shouldn't make that decision until you're absolutely sure. And only you can know when that is," he'd said. Ken took another sip of wine. He felt a slight comforting buzz develop. He felt oddly content and at peace with himself. He was glad it was Friday. As much as he'd enjoyed his work he was looking forward to a few days off. Angie was in Boston covering a fashion show and he really didn't have any firm plans. He considered what he'd do over the weekend. Ken decided that he'd rest and relax over the next two days. He'd sleep late. He'd rent a few videos. He'd make a lasagna. Maybe he'd go shopping for clothes. And he also decided to treat himself by having his hair and nails done at the beauty salon tomorrow. *** Ken walked into his office and closed the door. He sat behind his desk and booted up his computer. While he waited he looked down at himself and admired the new outfit he'd bought just yesterday. It was an off- white matching linen skirt and jacket sprinkled with a light green and yellow leaf pattern. The skirt ended an inch above his knees and the matching jacket fell two or three inches below his waist. He wore a lime silk blouse under the jacket. He gazed down at his feet and smiled at the white open toed strap-on sandals with three-inch heels. He saw his red toenails peek out from the front of the shoes. The knock on his door broke his concentration. "Come in." He saw Sherry Lane as the door swung open. "Morning Sherry." "Hi Karen. Hey, nice outfit. Is it new?" "Yeah. I bought it yesterday." "You're not going to believe this. Guess who's just arrived in the office?" "I have no idea Sherry. Who?" "Ruby Danyon. We weren't even expecting her. And guess what? She wants to meet you." Ken reflected that he'd worked at Savoy Cosmetics for over a year and had never met Ruby Danyon. To his knowledge this was Danyon's first visit to the New York office since his arrival here. "When?" "Now silly. Come on. I'll bring you to her office." *** Sherry ushered Ken into the spacious office and introduced him to the president and CEO of Savoy Cosmetics. Ruby Danyon politely smiled. "Thanks Sherry. Can you get me some coffee and a buttered bagel?" "Sure thing Ms. Danyon." Sherry left and closed the door behind her. Danyon stood up from behind her desk and extended her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Karen. I'm sorry I haven't been able to meet you before now." "The pleasure is mine Ms. Danyon." Ken shook her hand and noticed her impossibly long red fingernails. And her hand engulfed his. But Ken wasn't surprised at that because Danyon was one tall lady. She towered over him. He figured she was probably at least 6'2" tall in stocking feet. And she was wearing what appeared to be 4" heels. "Take a load off Karen. Make yourself comfortable." Ken sank into the plush black leather chair and watched Danyon sit down behind the big mahogany desk. He saw that she looked striking in the green silk dress. It contrasted brilliantly with her red hair, lips and nails. And he couldn't help but notice her huge bust. She was possibly a D-cup. "This is a lovely office Ms. Danyon." "Thanks. I don't get up to New York as much as I'd like. So you're Karen Huff, the brains behind the Savoy backpack. That was a brilliant idea Karen. The company is proud of you." "Thank you Ms. Danyon." "Next month Savoy Cosmetics is holding its annual week-long executive conference at my estate in Bermuda Karen. We expect to do some serious brainstorming there. Maybe introduce a few new product lines. I'd love to have you attend." "I'd be honored Ms. Danyon." "Good. Then it's all settled. See Sherry about the travel arrangements." It was clear to Ken that she was finished with him. He stood up. "Thanks again Ms. Danyon." "See you in Bermuda Karen." *** Ken finished packing the suitcase and went into the kitchen where he poured a glass of chilled Chardonnay. He walked into the living room and sank into the sofa. He took a